Fablehaven: The Complete Series (67 page)

Again, she felt she had spoken for her own ears alone. There was no hint of response from her shadowy surroundings.

“Why is she back again?” a voice said from off to her right. The sound came up out of the water, the words soft but undistorted.

“Who said that?” Kendra asked.

“She’s here to show off, what else?” another voice answered from directly below the pier. “Mortals get so proud when they know our language, as if speaking it weren’t the easiest and most natural ability.”

“I’ll allow that it beats her clumsy honking,” a third voice giggled. “Barking like a seal.”

Several voices giggled from under the obscure water. “I need to speak with Lena,” Kendra pleaded.

“She needs to find a new hobby,” the first voice said.

“Maybe she should take up swimming,” the third voice suggested. Laughter rippled all around her.

“You don’t have to talk like I’m not here,” Kendra said. “I can hear every word just fine.”

“She’s an eavesdropper,” the voice under the pier said.

“She should come closer to the water so we can hear her better,” said a new voice near the end of the pier.

“I’m just fine where I am,” Kendra said.

“Just fine, she says,” said another new voice. “A big clumsy scarecrow glued to the ground, plodding around on stilts.” The comment initiated the longest bout of tittering yet.

“Better than being trapped in an aquarium,” Kendra said.

The pond became silent. “She is not very polite,” the voice under the pier finally said.

A new voice chimed in. “What do you expect? Her feet are probably sore.” Kendra rolled her eyes at the giggles that followed. She suspected the naiads would gladly trade insults all night.

“Fablehaven is in danger,” Kendra said. “The Society of the Evening Star has taken my Grandma and Grandpa prisoner. My brother Seth has been killed. I need to talk to Lena.”

“I’m here, Kendra,” said a familiar voice. It was slightly more light and musical, slightly less warm, but it was definitely Lena.

“Hush, Lena,” said the voice under the pier.

“I’ll speak if I choose,” Lena said.

“What do you care of mortal politics?” one of the earlier voices chided. “They come and go. Have you forgotten what mortals do best? They die. It’s the one talent they have in common.”

“Kendra, come close to the water,” Lena said. Her voice was nearer. Kendra could vaguely see her face beneath the surface of the pond to the left of the pier. Her nose was nearly breaking the surface.

“Not too close,” Kendra said, squatting well out of reach.

“Why are you here, Kendra?”

“I need your help. The preserve is at the brink of falling again.”

“I know you think that matters,” Lena said.

“It does matter,” Kendra said.

“It seems to matter for a moment. Just like a lifetime.”

“Don’t you care about Grandma and Grandpa? They could die!”

“They will die. You’ll all die. And at the time it will seem like it matters.”

“It does matter!” Kendra said. “What do you mean, nothing matters? What about Patton? Did he matter?”

There came no answer. Lena’s face broke the surface of the water, gazing up at Kendra with liquid eyes. Even in the weak light, Kendra could see that Lena looked much younger. Her skin was smoother and more evenly colored. Her hair had only a few strands of gray. The water around Lena sloshed and churned and she vanished.

“Hey,” Kendra said. “Leave her alone.”

“She’s through talking with you,” said the voice under the pier. “You are not welcome here.”

“You pulled her away!” Kendra accused. “You jealous little airheads. Waterheads. What do you do, brainwash her? Lock her in a closet and play songs about living under the sea?”

“You do not know of what you speak,” said the voice under the pier. “She would have perished and now she will live. This is your final warning. Go face your fate. Leave Lena to enjoy hers.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kendra said resolutely. “Bring Lena back. You can’t do anything to me if I stay away from the water.”

“Oh, no?” said the voice under the pier.

Kendra did not like the knowing tone of the speaker. Too much confidence. She had to be bluffing. If naiads left the water, they became mortal. Still, Kendra looked around, worried that somebody might be sneaking up on her to push her into the water. She saw nobody.

“Hello?” Kendra said. “Hello?”

Silence. She felt certain they could hear her.

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” one of the earlier voices sang.

Kendra crouched, trying to be ready for anything. Were the naiads going to throw something at her? Maybe they could collapse the pier? The night remained quiet and still.

A hand reached up out of the water at the end of the pier. Kendra jumped back, her heart in her throat. A wooden hand. Little golden hooks served as joints. Mendigo scrambled out of the dark water and crawled onto the pier.

Kendra backed away as Mendigo stood, the wooden limberjack Muriel had changed into a fearsome servant. The overgrown primitive puppet had been pulled into the water by the naiads the year before. It had not crossed Kendra’s mind that they might release him. Or even that he would still be functional. Muriel had been imprisoned. She was locked up with Bahumat deep beneath a verdant hill. Apparently nobody had told Mendigo.

The wooden figure rushed at Kendra. Although she had grown since she last saw the limberjack, he was still an inch or two taller. Kendra turned and ran along the pier back to the boardwalk. She could hear him gaining, wooden feet clacking against wooden planks.

He caught up to her at the bottom of the gazebo stairs. Kendra whirled and tried to grab at him, hoping to catch hold of a limb and unhinge it. He nimbly evaded her grasp and caught hold of her around the waist, flipping her upside down. She struggled and he changed his grip, pinning her arms to her sides.

Kendra was caught in a helpless position—facing away from him, upside down, arms immobilized. She tried to wriggle and flail, but Mendigo was alarmingly strong. As the oversized puppet trotted away from the pond, it became apparent she was going wherever he wanted.

Chapter 14

Reunion

Seth stripped off another piece of the spongy wall and placed it in his mouth. The texture reminded him of citrus pulp. He chewed until he was left with a small amount of tough, tasteless matter, which he swallowed. Puckering his lips, Seth pressed his mouth against the wall of the cocoon. The harder he kissed the wall, the more moisture flowed into his mouth. Water with a hint of honeydew.

Olloch roared again, and the cocoon shuddered. Seth flopped around as the cocoon lurched from side to side. By the time he braced himself, the movement stopped. Seth was growing accustomed to the roars and the flurries of motion, although the thought that he was listening to a roar from inside a cocoon inside the belly of a demon remained peculiar.

Seth had tried to sleep. When he had first started dozing, the roars had awakened him every time. Eventually, with the help of his mounting fatigue, he had managed a few fitful stretches of slumber.

Time was becoming meaningless in the endless blackness. Only the growls and motion of the demon interrupted the monotony. That and snacking on fragments of the padded walls. How long had he been inside of Olloch? A day? Two days? Three?

At least Seth remained reasonably comfortable inside his womblike enclosure. It fit him rather snugly. There was just enough room to move his arms when he wanted to pick at the walls. Even when he was flung around, he never got injured, because the walls were soft, and there was not enough room for him to get shaken into dangerous positions.

With so little space, it seemed the air would run out in a matter of minutes, but his breathing remained unstrained. Being swallowed by Olloch had made no difference—the air remained fresh. The closeness of the cocoon made him a little claustrophobic, but in the darkness, when he lay still, he could pretend the enclosure was spacious.

Olloch gave a particularly ferocious roar. The cocoon quaked. The demon emitted a couple of prolonged growls followed by the loudest roar Seth had yet heard. Seth wondered if the demon was in a fight. The snarls and roars continued. It felt oddly like the cocoon was being squeezed, first by his head, then near his shoulders, then at his waist, then at his knees and feet. The vicious growls continued unabated.

The cocoon was jostled one final time and silence followed. Seth lay in stillness, waiting for the turbulence to resume. He waited for several minutes, expecting more roaring at any moment. The growls had been almost desperate. Now all was eerily calm. Could Olloch have been killed? Or perhaps the demon had won a battle and then collapsed in exhaustion. It was easily the longest interval of motionless silence Seth had experienced since being swallowed. Uneventful minutes accumulated until Seth felt his eyelids drooping. He slipped into a deep slumber.

* * *

Mendigo dumped Kendra onto the ground. A thick carpet of wildflowers cushioned her landing. The air smelled of blossoms and fruit. As disoriented as the dash through the woods had left her, Kendra knew where they were: at the site where the Forgotten Chapel once stood. The last order from Muriel to Mendigo must have been to bring Kendra to the chapel.

During the entire run through the woods, Kendra had wriggled and twisted and squirmed. She had kicked Mendigo in the head and tried to unhinge his limbs. But the oversized puppet had just shifted his grip and continued doggedly onward. She had been carried upside down, over his shoulder, and curled up in a ball. No matter how vigorously she struggled, Mendigo had adjusted.

Kendra lay sprawled on a bed of wildflowers beneath a starless sky, the dim night pungent and mild. Mendigo crouched and started digging, clawing at the soil with wooden fingers, tossing stones aside when he encountered them. Somewhere under the hill, Muriel was buried, imprisoned with Bahumat. Apparently the order had not merely been to bring Kendra to the chapel but to bring Kendra to Muriel.

Kendra sprang to her feet and bolted down the hillside. She had not traveled six steps before Mendigo slammed into her from behind, tackling her near the trunk of a peach tree. They rolled and she wrenched her back. Kendra shrieked as Mendigo clung to her with unnatural strength, wrapping her up with his arms and legs.

At least if he was clinging to her, he wasn’t digging. What would happen if he tunneled down to Muriel? Would the witch issue new commands to her wooden servant? Would she get in touch with Vanessa and figure out a way to escape?

“You’re in a fine predicament,” a tiny voice giggled. It was high and musical, like the tinkling of a little bell.

Kendra turned her head. A yellow fairy hovered near her face, emitting a golden glow. She wore a shimmering slip of gossamer and had wings like a bumblebee and a pair of antennae. “I wouldn’t mind some help,” Kendra said.

“A heroine of your reputation should have no trouble escaping such a feeble adversary,” the fairy said airily.

“You’d be surprised how strong he is,” Kendra said.

“His magic is weak,” the fairy sniffed. “Muriel is sealed in a mighty prison. Her will no longer supports the enchantments she left behind. And yet you can do nothing but beg for help. Forgive me if I am unimpressed.”

Mendigo was dragging Kendra up the hill toward the spot where he had started digging. “Obviously I’m having trouble,” Kendra said. “I don’t know what to do.”

The fairy laughed, a twittering sound. “This is priceless! The great Kendra Sorenson being hauled through the dirt by a puppet!”

“You act like I think I’m some big shot,” Kendra said. “I think you’re projecting. I know I’m just a girl. Without the help of all the fairies I would have died last summer.”

“False humility is more insulting than open pride!” the fairy sniffed.

Mendigo picked up Kendra, cradling her in his arms, folding her knees up to her chin and keeping her arms trapped at her sides. He resumed digging with his feet. “Do I look like I could possibly be feeling superior to anyone?” Kendra demanded.