Fablehaven: The Complete Series (26 page)

Grandma Sorenson rose to her feet. She was shorter and stouter than Muriel, with hair the color of cinnamon and sugar. “You must vacate this property immediately.”

Muriel glowered at Grandma, the joy in her gaze eclipsed by spite. A tear escaped and slid down a crease to her chin. “This is my thanks for unbinding your curse?”

“You have your reward for the services you rendered. You have emerged from confinement. Eviction from this preserve is the consequence of prior indiscretions.”

“My debts have been paid. You are not the caretaker.”

“My authority is the same as my husband’s. In his absence, I am indeed the caretaker. I invite you to leave and never return.”

Muriel turned and began tromping away. “Where I go is my business.” She did not look back.

“Not on my preserve.”

“
Your
preserve, is it? I object to your claims of ownership.” Muriel still had not looked back. Grandma started walking after her, an old woman in a bathrobe trailing an old woman dressed in rags.

“New crimes will entail new punishments,” Grandma warned.

“You might be surprised who administers the penalties.”

“Don’t provoke new enmity. Depart in peace.” Grandma quickened her pace and caught hold of Muriel by the upper arm.

Muriel twisted free, turning to face Grandma. “Tread lightly, Ruth. If you seek trouble here and now, in front of the little ones, I will oblige you. This is the wrong moment to cling to antiquated protocol. Things have changed more than you realize. I suggest you depart before I regain authority here.”

Seth ran toward them. Grandma took a step back. Seth flung a handful of salt at the witch. It had no effect. Muriel pointed at him. “Your recompense is coming, my bold little whelp. I have a long memory.”

“Your actions require retribution,” Grandma warned.

Muriel was striding away again. “You speak to deaf ears.”

“You said you’d tell us how to find our Grandpa,” Kendra called.

Muriel laughed without looking back.

“Hold your tongues, children,” Grandma said. “Muriel, I have commanded you to depart. Your defiance is an act of war.”

“You issue evictions in order to build a case for wrongdoing and thereby justify retaliation,” Muriel said. “I do not fear a feud with you.”

Grandma turned away from Muriel. “Kendra, come here.” Grandma pulled Seth to her in a tight hug. When Kendra drew near, she embraced her as well. “I am sorry for misleading you children. I should not have guided you to Muriel. I did not realize this was her final knot.”

“What do you mean?” Kendra said. “You heard us talking.”

Grandma smiled sadly. “As a chicken, thinking clearly becomes an exhausting challenge. My mind was in a haze. To interact with you like a person, even for a moment, required tremendous concentration.”

Seth nodded toward Muriel. “Should we stop her? I bet the three of us could take her.”

“If we attack, she will be able to defend herself with magic,” Grandma said. “We would forfeit the protection afforded by the foundational covenants of the treaty.”

“Have we messed things up?” Seth asked. “Setting her free, I mean.”

“Things were already dismal,” Grandma said. “Having her on the loose certainly complicates the situation. Whether my assistance can compensate for her interference remains to be seen.” Grandma looked flushed. She fanned her face. “Your grandfather left us in quite a predicament.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Seth said.

Grandma bent over, placing her hands on her knees. Kendra steadied her. “I’m all right, Kendra. Just a little woozy.” She stood up experimentally. “Tell me what happened. I know undesirable beings entered the house and took Stan.”

“They took Lena, too, and I think they turned Dale into a statue,” Kendra reported. “We found him in the yard.”

Grandma nodded. “As caretaker, Stan is a valuable trophy. Same with a fallen nymph. By contrast Dale seemed unimpressive and was left behind. Any clue who took them?”

“We found some footprints near Dale,” Seth said.

“Did they lead you anywhere?”

“No,” Seth said.

“Have you any idea where Grandpa and Lena are being held?”

“No.”

“Muriel probably knows,” Grandma said. “She has an alliance with the imps.”

“Speaking of Muriel,” Kendra said, “where did she go?”

They all looked around. Muriel was no longer in sight. Grandma frowned. “She must have special means of hiding or traveling. No matter. We aren’t equipped to deal with her now.”

“What do we do?” Seth asked.

“Our first order of business is to find your Grandpa. Learning his location should dictate how best to proceed.”

“How do we do that?”

Grandma sighed. “Our nearest option would be Nero.”

“Who?” Kendra said.

“A cliff troll. He has a seeing stone. If we can successfully bargain with him, he should be able to reveal Stan’s location.”

“Do you know him well?” Seth asked.

“Never met him. Your grandfather had dealings with him once. It will be dangerous, but at present he is probably our best alternative. We should hurry. I’ll tell you more on the way.”

Chapter 14

Trolling for Grandpa

Have you ever heard people conversing while you’re falling asleep?” Grandma said. “The words reach you from a distance, and you can barely glimpse the meaning.”

“That happened to me in a motel once when we were on a trip,” Kendra said. “Mom and Dad were talking. I fell asleep, and their conversation turned into a dream.”

“Then to some degree you can grasp my state of mind as a chicken. You say it is June. My last clear memories are from February, when the spell was enacted. For the first couple of days I remained fairly alert. Over time, I lapsed into a twilight consciousness, incapable of rational thought, unable to interpret my surroundings as a human would.”

“Weird,” Seth said.

“I recognized you kids when you arrived, but it was through a clouded lens. My mind did not reawaken until you let those creatures in through the window. The shock jolted me out of my stupor. It was a struggle to cling to my elevated consciousness. I cannot describe the concentration it required to write that message to you. My mind wanted to slip away, to relax. I wanted to eat the delicious kernels, not arrange them into bizarre patterns.”

They traveled along a wide dirt road. Rather than head back toward the house, they had continued on the trail beyond the ivy shack, venturing deeper into the forest. The trail had eventually forked and then intersected the road they were currently following. The sun blazed overhead, the air was heavy and humid, and the forest remained unnaturally silent all around them.

Kendra and Seth had brought a pair of jeans, but they turned out to be from Grandma’s skinnier days, and were not even close to fitting. The tennis shoes belonged to Grandpa and were several sizes too big. So Grandma now wore a bathing suit under her robe, and her feet remained in slippers.

Grandma raised her hands, staring as she opened and closed them. “Strange to have proper fingers again,” she murmured.

“How did you become a chicken in the first place?” Seth asked.

“Pride made me careless,” Grandma said. “A sobering reminder that none of us are immune to the dangers here, even when we imagine we have the upper hand. Let’s save the details for another time.”

“Why didn’t Grandpa change you back?” Kendra asked.

Grandma’s eyebrows shot up. “Probably because I kept laying eggs for his breakfast. I like to think that if he had taken me to Muriel in the first place, I could have prevented all this nonsense from happening. But I suppose he was searching for an alternate cure for my condition.”

“Besides asking Muriel,” Seth said.

“Exactly.”

“Then why did he have Muriel cure me?”

“I’m sure he knew your parents would return soon, leaving insufficient time to discover another remedy.”

“You had no idea Seth had become a mutant walrus and been restored by Muriel?” Kendra said.

“I missed all that,” Grandma said. “As a hen, most details escaped me. When I urged you to take me to Muriel, I assumed she still had two knots remaining. Only when I looked up and observed the single knot did I begin to fathom the actual predicament. By then it was too late. Incidentally, how did you end up as a walrus?”

Seth and Kendra related the particulars about turning the fairy into an imp and the subsequent retribution. Grandma listened, asking a few clarifying questions.

As the path curved around a tall thicket, a covered bridge came into view up ahead. Spanning a ravine, the bridge was composed of dark wood. Although aged and weathered, it appeared to be in reasonably good repair.

“Our destination draws near,” Grandma said.

“Beyond the bridge?” Kendra asked.

“Down in the ravine.” Grandma stopped, studying the foliage off to either side of the road. “I am suspicious of the stillness in these woods. A great tension rests upon Fablehaven today.” She resumed walking.

“Because of Grandpa?” Seth asked.

“Yes, and your newfound enmity with the fairies. But I worry there may be something more. I am anxious to speak with Nero.”

“Will he help us?” Kendra asked.

“He would rather harm us. Trolls can be violent and unpredictable. I would not solicit information from him if our situation were less dire.”

“What’s the plan?” Seth asked.

“Our only chance is clever bargaining. Cliff trolls are cunning and ruthless, but their avarice can be a weakness.”

“Avarice?” Seth asked.

“Greed. Cliff trolls are miserly creatures. Treasure hoarders. Cunning negotiators. They relish the thrill of besting an opponent. Whatever agreement we reach, Nero will have to feel like the undisputed victor. I only hope we can determine something he values that we are willing to part with.”

“What if we can’t?” Kendra said.

“We must. If we fail to reach an arrangement, Nero will not let us leave unscathed.”

They arrived at the brink of the ravine. Kendra placed a hand against the bridge and leaned forward to look down. It was surprisingly deep. Tenacious vegetation clung to the steep walls. A narrow stream trickled along the bottom. “How do we get down there?”

“Carefully,” Grandma said, taking a seat at the edge of the precipice. Rolling over onto her stomach, she started backing down the slope feet first, looking ridiculous in her robe and slippers. The incline was not completely vertical, but most of the descent was quite steep.

“If we fall, we’ll tumble all the way to the bottom,” Kendra observed.

“A sensible reason not to fall,” Grandma agreed, moving carefully downward. “Come along, it looks worse than it is. Just find solid handholds and take it one step at a time.”

Seth followed Grandma, and then Kendra started down, desperately hugging the side of the ravine, taking tentative steps, hunting blindly for the next place to rest her foot. But Grandma was right. Once she got going, the climb was less difficult than it appeared. There were many handholds, including scrawny bushes with well-anchored stems. After proceeding gingerly at first, she grew in confidence and increased the speed of her descent.

When Kendra reached the bottom, Seth was squatting near a cluster of blossoms at the edge of the stream. Grandma Sorenson stood nearby. “Took you long enough,” Seth said.

“I was being careful.”

“I’ve never seen somebody move an inch per hour before.”

“No time for bickering,” Grandma said. “Kendra did just fine, Seth. We need to hurry along.”

“I like the smell of these flowers,” Seth said.

“Come away from those,” Grandma insisted.