Fablehaven: The Complete Series (24 page)

“And if I ever find a giant cow milking trophy, I’ll buy it for you,” Kendra offered.

“I’d rather we kept it our little secret. You ready?”

“Go for it.”

Hesitantly Seth placed a hand against the huge teat. The cow mooed, and he recoiled, crouching and grabbing the ladder with both hands to steady himself. Kendra tried to stay balanced as she laughed. Finally the foghorn moo ended.

“I changed my mind,” Seth said.

“I’ll count to three,” said Kendra.

“You go first or I’m not doing it. I almost fell and wet my pants at the same time.”

“One . . . two . . . three!”

Seth stepped off the ladder, embracing the teat. He slid down it and fell to the floor along with an impressive jet of milk. Kendra stepped off and hugged the teat as well. Even with her holding tightly, it slid through her embrace faster than she expected. She hit the floor with warm milk already soaking her jeans.

Seth was on his way back up the ladder. “I’m already disgusted,” he said, stepping off and sliding down again. This time he kept his feet when he landed. Kendra went up and slid down again. Hugging as hard as she could, she descended a little more slowly, but still fell over when she hit the floor. Already milk was everywhere.

Soon they fell into a rhythm, both of them landing on their feet most of the time. The engorged udder hung low, and they got better at using the teat-hug to control their fall. Milk gushed copiously. While they were sliding, the teats sprayed like fire hoses. It must have been at least seventy jumps each before the output began to slacken.

“Other side,” Kendra gasped, breathing hard.

“My arms are dead,” Seth complained.

“We have to hurry.”

They scooted the ladders over and repeated the process. Kendra tried to pretend she was on a surreal playground, where the kids waded in milk instead of sand and slid down thick, meaty poles.

Kendra focused on climbing the ladder and landing as lightly as possible. She worried that if either action became routine, she could have a bad accident, spraining an ankle, breaking a bone, or worse.

At the first sign that the flow of milk was slackening, they collapsed in exhaustion, not worried about lying in milk because their clothes and hair were already drenched. Both of them gulped air desperately. Kendra put a hand to her neck. “My heart is beating like a jackhammer.”

“I thought I was going to puke, that was so foul,” complained Seth.

“I’m more tired than sick.”

“Think about it. You’re dripping with warm, raw milk while your face rubs down a cow nipple about a hundred times.”

“More than that.”

“We doused the whole barn,” Seth said. “I’m never drinking milk again.”

“I’m never going to the playground,” Kendra vowed.

“What?”

“Hard to explain.”

Seth scanned the area under the cow. “The floor has drains, but I don’t think much of the milk is going down.”

“I saw a hose. I doubt the cow would like milk rotting all over the place.” Kendra sat up and squeezed milk out of her hair. “That was the best workout I ever had. I’m dead.”

“If I did that every day I’d look like Hercules,” said Seth.

“You mind grabbing the ladders?”

“Not if you do the hosing.”

The hose was long and had good water pressure, and the drains seemed to have plenty of capacity. Flushing the milk away turned out to be the easiest part of the process. Seth had Kendra hose him off, and then returned the favor.

From the time the milking began in earnest, the cow made no more noise and displayed no more interest in them. They called for Grandpa and Lena in the barn, just to be sure, starting with small voices to avoid startling the cow and gradually building to shouts. As had been their lot all day, their calls went unanswered.

“Should we go back to the house?” Kendra asked.

“I guess. It will be dark before long.”

“I’m tired. And hungry. We should look for food.”

They left the barn. The day was waning.

“You have a big tear in your shirt,” Kendra said.

“I ripped it while we were running from that ogress.”

“I have a pink one you can borrow.”

“This will work fine,” said Seth, “once it dries off.”

“The pink one would hide you just as well as the camouflage,” Kendra said.

“Are all girls as brainless as you?”

“You’re telling me a green shirt will make you invisible to monsters?”

“No.
Less
visible. Less is the point. Less than your blue one.”

“I guess I should find a green one too.”

Chapter 13

An Unexpected Message

Sitting on the floor in the dining room, Kendra took a bite of her second peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Scouring the kitchen, she and Seth had found enough food to last for weeks. The pantry contained canned fruits and vegetables, unbroken jars of preserves, bread, oatmeal, cream of wheat, crackers, tuna, and lots of other stuff.

The fridge still worked, even lying on its side, and they cleaned out the broken glass the best they could. There remained plenty of milk, cheese, and eggs. The freezer held a lot of meat.

Kendra took another bite. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. She had felt hungry enough for a second sandwich, but now she doubted she would finish it. “I’m exhausted,” she announced.

“Me too,” Seth said. He put a piece of cheese on a cracker and topped it with a sardine bathed in mustard sauce. “My eyes feel itchy.”

“My throat feels prickly,” Kendra said. “The sun isn’t even down.”

“What are we going to do about Grandpa?”

“I think the best thing we can do is get some rest. We’ll think more clearly in the morning.”

“How long did we sleep last night?” Seth asked.

“About half an hour,” Kendra guessed.

“We’ve stayed up for almost two days!”

“Now you’ll sleep for two days.”

“Whatever,” said Seth.

“It’s true. Your glands will secrete a cocoon.”

“I’m not that gullible.”

“That’s why you’re so hungry. You’re storing up fat for hibernation.”

Seth finished the cracker. “You should try a sardine.”

“I don’t eat fish with the heads still attached.”

“The heads are the best part! You can feel the eyes pop when you—”

“Enough.” Kendra stood up. “I need to get to bed.”

Seth rose as well. “Me too.”

They climbed the stairs, passed down the cluttered hall, and mounted the steps to the attic. Their room had taken a beating, everything except the beds. Goldilocks strutted over to the corner and started clucking. Her feed was scattered across the floor.

“You’re right that the salt didn’t seem to be working,” Seth said.

“It might only work in here.”

“They were jerks, but those goat guys were pretty funny.”

“They’re called satyrs,” Kendra said.

“I need to find some C batteries. They said they’d give us gold.”

“They didn’t say how much.”

“Still, trading batteries for gold! I could become a millionaire.”

“I’m not sure I’d trust those guys.” Kendra flopped onto her bed, face in her pillow. “What does Goldilocks keep clucking about?”

“I bet she misses her cage.” Seth crossed the floor to the flustered hen. “Kendra, you better come see this.”

“Can I look in the morning?” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“You need to look now.”

Kendra pushed herself off her bed and walked over to Seth. In the corner on the floor, more than a hundred feed kernels had been arranged to form six letters:

I M

GRAM

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kendra said. She gave Seth a suspicious glance. “Did you write this?”

“No! No way!”

Kendra squatted in front of Goldilocks. “You’re my Grandma Sorenson?”

The hen bobbed her head, as if in affirmation.

“Was that a yes?”

The head bobbed again.

“Give me a ‘no’ so I can be sure,” Kendra said.

Goldilocks shook her head.

“How did this happen?” Seth asked. “Somebody transformed you?”

The chicken bobbed her head.

“How do we change you back?” Kendra asked.

Goldilocks held still.

“Why didn’t Grandpa change her back?” Seth asked.

“Did Grandpa Sorenson try to restore you?” Kendra inquired.

Goldilocks bobbed her head and then shook it.

“Yes and no?”

The head nodded.

“He tried but failed,” Kendra guessed.

The hen gave another affirmative.

“Do you know a way we can change you back?” Kendra asked.

Another head bob.

“Is it something we can do in the house?” Kendra asked.

The head shook.

“Do we need to take you to the witch?” Seth tried.

The head bobbed. And then the hen flapped her wings, moving away.

“Wait, Grandma!” Kendra reached for the hen, but the flustered bird dodged her grasp. “She’s freaking out.”

Seth chased her down. “Grandma,” he said, “can you still hear us?”

The hen made no acknowledgment of comprehension.

“Grandma,” Kendra said, “can you still respond to us?”

The chicken squirmed. Seth kept hold of her. The chicken pecked his hand, and he dropped her. They watched Goldilocks. For several minutes, she did nothing to suggest abnormal intelligence and offered no recognizable reaction to any questions.

“She was answering us before, right?” Kendra asked.

“She wrote us a message!” Seth said, pointing at the I M GRAM in the corner.

“She must have had just a short window to communicate with us,” Kendra reasoned. “Once she got the message across, she left it in our hands.”

“Why hasn’t she spoken up before?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s tried, but we never got the message.”

Seth cocked his head thoughtfully and then gave a small shrug. “Do we take her to the witch in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Muriel only has one knot left.”

“No matter what, we don’t undo the last knot. But maybe we could bargain with her.”

“Bargain with what?” Kendra asked.

“We could bring food. Or other stuff. Things to make her more comfortable in that shack.”