Fablehaven: The Complete Series (34 page)

She shook with sobs. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She let them come. She needed the release, to stop trying to suppress the horror of it all. The tears she had shed while fleeing the Forgotten Chapel had been of shock and terror. These were tears of realization.

Tears slid down her chin and plopped into the silver bowl. Her breathing came in ragged gasps between sobs. “Please help me,” she finally managed.

An aromatic breeze drifted over the island. It smelled of rich soil and new blossoms, with just a hint of the sea.

Her crying began to subside. Kendra brushed the tears from her cheeks and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She sniffed, amazed at how swiftly congestion could appear.

The miniature statue was wet. Had she cried on it? No! Water was seeping from its eyes, trickling down into the silver bowl.

The air stirred again, still redolent with potent aromas. Kendra inexplicably sensed a presence. She was no longer alone.

I accept your offering, and join you in weeping.

The words were not audible, but they struck her mind with such a forceful impression that Kendra gasped. She had never experienced anything similar. Clear fluid continued to leak from the statue into the bowl.

From tears, milk, and blood, devise an elixir, and my handmaidens will attend you.

The tears were obvious. All Kendra could picture was Viola for the milk. Whose blood? Her own? The cow’s? The handmaidens had to be the fairies.

“Wait, what do I do?” Kendra asked. “How do I get off the island?”

In reply, the wind swirled for a moment, and then gusted. The pleasant aromas vanished. The little statue no longer wept. The indefinable presence had departed.

Kendra picked up the bowl. About the size of her palm, it was nearly a third of the way full. She had hoped the Fairy Queen would resolve the situation for her. Instead she had apparently shown her a way to resolve the problem herself. The telepathic message felt as precise as spoken words. Her family was still in danger, but the spark of hope was now a flame.

How would she get off the island? Rising, Kendra walked to the shore. Unbelievably, the paddleboat was drifting in her direction. It steadily approached until reaching the island.

Kendra stepped inside the boat. It pulled away from the shore spontaneously, turned around, and started toward the little white pier.

Kendra said nothing. She did not paddle. She was afraid to do anything that might disrupt the effortless progress to the pier. She held the bowl in her lap, careful not to spill a drop.

Then she saw it, a dark figure standing on the pier, awaiting her return. A puppet the size of a man. Mendigo.

Her throat constricted with fear. She had worked magic on the island! Getting the tears from the statue—that was magic, right? Her protected status was finished. And Mendigo had come to apprehend her.

“Can you drop me off someplace else?” she asked.

The boat moved steadily forward. What could she do? Even if they dropped her off elsewhere, Mendigo would just follow.

The boat was twenty yards from the pier, then ten. She had to protect the contents of her bowl. And she could not let Mendigo haul her away. But how could she stop him?

The paddleboat brushed up against the pier, coming to a stop alongside it. Mendigo made no move to grab her. He seemed to be waiting for her to disembark. Kendra set the bowl on the pier and stood up, noticing that the boat was being held steady.

When she stepped onto the pier, Mendigo moved forward, but as before, he could not seem to grab her. He stood with both arms half-raised, fingers fluttering. Kendra picked up the bowl and walked around the limberjack. Mendigo followed her along the length of the pier.

Why would Muriel have sent Mendigo after her if he could not seize her? Did Muriel know she had communed with the Fairy Queen? If so, the puppet sure moved quickly. His being there was probably precautionary.

The problem it posed was severe. Evidently Kendra had not actually worked magic on the island; she had merely collected an ingredient. But in concocting the elixir the Fairy Queen described and giving it to the fairies, she would certainly be performing magic. The moment her protected status ended, Mendigo would be on her.

That was not an option.

Kendra set the silver bowl on the steps leading up to the gazebo. Then she turned and confronted Mendigo. The puppet was more than half a head taller than her. “I think you work like Hugo. You have no brain and just do what you’re told. Is that right, Mendigo?”

The limberjack stood still. Kendra tried not to get creeped out. “I have a feeling you won’t obey me, but it’s worth a try. Mendigo, go climb a tree and sit up there forever.”

Mendigo stood motionless. Kendra walked straight at him. He was trying to lift his arms to grab her, but was unable to carry out the intention. Standing close to him, she reached out a tentative finger and touched his wooden torso. He did not react, except to continue struggling against whatever force prevented him from seizing her.

“You can’t touch me. I haven’t done anything mean or used any magic. But I can touch you.” She gently stroked both of his arms just beneath the shoulders. The limberjack jittered with the effort of trying to grasp her.

“Want to see my second decisive move of the night?” she asked. Mendigo quivered, hooks jingling, but remained powerless to take hold of Kendra. Unconsciously biting her lower lip, she grabbed both arms just below the shoulders, unhooked them, and dashed away from the limberjack. She heard the overgrown puppet chasing her as she raced to the edge of the pond and hurled the wooden arms into the water.

Something clipped Kendra’s shoulder and sent her spinning to the ground. A crushing force pressed against her back, pinning her down. She could hardly breathe. Craning her neck, she saw Mendigo looming over her, using his foot to hold her in place. How could a creature that looked so flimsy be so strong? The spot where he had kicked her stung deep—it would certainly bruise.

Kendra reached for his other leg, hoping to unhook the shin, but the puppet danced out of reach. For a moment Mendigo appeared indecisive. Kendra prepared to roll away in case he charged and tried to kick her again. If she could just unhook a leg!

Instead, Mendigo hurried onto the pier. Both of his arms were floating on the water. One had almost drifted within reach of the pier. Mendigo crouched, balancing carefully on one foot, and stretched out a leg toward the nearest arm.

Just as his toes made contact, a white hand shot out of the water and seized Mendigo by the ankle, yanking him into the pond with a splash. Kendra waited, holding her breath as she watched. The limberjack did not resurface.

She dashed back to the steps and picked up the bowl. Kendra dared not run while holding the tears. Instead she walked swiftly, careful not to waste any of her precious cargo. She walked across the lawn, through the arch, down the path, and onto the road.

Stars continued to fade in the eastern sky. Kendra hurried along the road. She was pretty sure her sheltered status was at an end. But, if mischief had to be done, at least it had felt worthwhile. She had a feeling it would not be her final mischievous act of the night.

Chapter 18

Bahumat

By the time Kendra reached the barn, a predawn gray dominated the eastern horizon. Her journey from the pond had been uneventful. Not a drop had spilled from the silver bowl. She went around to the little door Seth had kicked open and ducked inside.

The titanic cow stood munching hay from the loft. Every time Kendra saw Viola, she marveled anew at her enormity. The cow’s udder was bloated, nearly as badly as the first time they had milked her.

Kendra had the tears. Now she needed milk and blood. Since the Fairy Queen had been communicating men-tally, Kendra trusted her first impressions. The milk would have to be Viola’s. And the blood? Her own? The cow’s? Probably both to be safe. Maybe both were required. But first the milk.

Kendra set the silver bowl in a protected corner and retrieved one of the ladders. She intended to steal only a few squirts. There was no time for a proper milking.

Kendra had never tried to collect Viola’s milk. She and Seth had simply been relieving pressure for the cow and letting it spill all over the floor. There were plenty of barrels, but trying to dump a barrel into a little silver bowl seemed tricky. And considering that she would be sliding down a teat to get milk out, it seemed like it would be hard to avoid falling in the barrel herself.

She located a large pie tin, the kind Dale used to leave milk around the yard. Perfect. Small enough to dodge, but big enough to catch all the milk she would need. She positioned the tin under the teat, trying to estimate where the milk would squirt.

Kendra climbed the ladder and jumped, embracing the fleshy teat. Milk gushed to the floor. Only a little splashed into the tin. She adjusted the tin, climbed the ladder, and tried again. This time was a direct hit, filling the tin almost to the brim, and she even managed to keep her feet on the landing.

Kendra brought the tin over to the silver bowl. She poured milk until the bowl was three-quarters of the way full. Only blood remained.

Viola mooed thunderously, apparently upset at having her milking abruptly halted right after it began. “You’re going to moo louder than that,” Kendra muttered under her breath.

How much blood would she need? The Fairy Queen had not specified quantities. Kendra went through the closets looking for tools. She ended up with a weed digger and another pie tin. Getting enough blood to pour from a pie tin into the bowl would be disgusting, but she was scared that if she tried to put blood from the source directly into the bowl she would end up spilling everything.

“Viola!” Kendra called. “I don’t know if you can understand me. I need some of your blood in order to save Fablehaven. This might sting a little, so try to be brave.”

The cow gave no sign of comprehension. Kendra returned to the teat she had been milking. It was the one area not protected by fur, so she figured it would be the best place to harvest some blood.

She climbed the ladder only a couple of steps. She wanted to stab the teat low, so it would drip. If she had found a knife, she would have tried to make a cut. The only thing sharp about the weed digger were the points at the end, so she would have to go with a puncture wound.

Up close, as she contemplated stabbing it, the pink teat looked alien. She needed to stab hard. On an animal this big, the skin would be pretty thick. She told herself it would just feel like a thorn to the enormous cow. But would she want somebody jabbing a thorn into her? The cow would probably get upset.

Kendra raised the weed digger, holding the pie tin in her other hand. “Sorry, Viola!” she yelled, plunging the weed digger into the spongy flesh. The tool sank almost to the handle, and Viola made a terrified bellow.

The heavy teat swung into Kendra, slamming her off the ladder. She kept hold of the weed digger, wrenching it free of the wound as she fell. The ladder clattered to the floor beside her.

Viola sidestepped and tossed her head, bellowing again. The barn shook, and Kendra heard timbers splitting. The roof shuddered. The walls swayed and cracked. Kendra covered her head. Gigantic hooves thumped against the floor, and Viola let out a long, plaintive moo. Then the cow settled down.

Kendra looked up. Dust and hay floated down from above. Blood trickled down the teat, already dripping from the tip.

Since Viola had calmed down, and the blood was flowing freely, Kendra cast aside the pie tin and retrieved the silver bowl. Standing under the teat, she started catching drops of blood. She had toured a cave with her family once, and the sight reminded her of water dripping from a stalactite.

Soon the mixture in the bowl turned from white to pink. The flow of blood slowed. The lower side and tip of the teat were stained red. Kendra supposed it was enough.

She went and sat by the little door. Now for her blood. Maybe she could just try the cow blood and see if that worked. No, haste was essential. How would she get blood out? No way was she using the weed digger unless she could sterilize it.