Fablehaven: The Complete Series (82 page)

“It turned mean,” Kendra said.

“It is mean,” Warren corrected. “This is certainly no mere housecat. We have not yet seen the true form of our adversary.”

The feral cat spat and hissed.

Warren began investigating the big key. He rolled it, examining it from end to end. “Ah-ha!” he said, inserting the tiny key into a hole just below the spearhead. When he turned the miniscule key, the handle at the opposite end of the big key detached and clattered to the ground. Connected to the handle was a long, slender blade. A sword had been hidden in the shaft of the tall key, with only the handle showing!

Warren picked up the sword, swishing it through the air. The handle had no guard. The sharp blade was long and sleek, and it flashed dangerously in the glow of the sunstones. “We have ourselves a pair of weapons,” Warren said. “Take the spear! Without the sword it has a better balance.”

Eyes on the cat, Kendra drew near and took the spear from Warren. “How do I use this?” she asked.

“Stab with it,” Warren said. “It’s probably too heavy for you to throw it effectively. Pay more attention to soaring away if trouble comes near.”

“All right,” she said, taking a few practice jabs.

Without warning, the cat charged at Kendra. She swung the spear and it veered away, darting toward Warren. His sword whisked down and lopped off the head of the cat. Warren stepped away from the corpse, watching it intently. Both the head and the body of the feline began to boil as if full of writhing worms. The head melted into a soupy pool. The headless body began to heave inside out, revealing wet glimpses of muscle and bone, until the churning finally stopped and the black cat was whole again.

The cat hissed at Warren, fur rising along its arched back. It was bigger now, larger than any domestic cat Kendra had ever seen. Warren took a step toward the cat and it bolted, body stretching long as it raced fluidly away. The next two times Warren came close, the cat streaked away, in the end returning to the pedestal.

Warren approached the pedestal. Baring teeth and claws, the cat sprang at him. A slash of his sword intercepted the feline, and the cat flopped to the floor. Warren stabbed it to ensure the animal a quick demise, and then backed away.

Once again, the lifeless body began to pulse and roil. “I’m not too keen about this pattern,” Warren said darkly. Moving in close, he began stabbing the churning mass of fur and bone and organs. With each wound it seemed to grow, and so he retreated to let the process finish.

The reborn black cat no longer looked like a domestic animal. Not only was it much too big, the paws were proportionately larger, with crueler claws, and the ears were now tufted like those of a lynx. Still entirely black, the lynx let out a fierce yowl, showing intimidating teeth.

“Don’t kill it again,” Kendra said. “It will keep getting worse.”

“Then we will never get the artifact,” Warren said. “The cat is the vault, and the sword and the spear remain the keys. To get the artifact, we must defeat all of its incarnations.” The black lynx crouched, eyeing Warren cunningly. When Warren feinted forward, the lynx did not flinch.

Staying low, the lynx prowled toward Warren, as if stalking a bird. Warren stood ready, sword poised. A dark blur, the lynx rushed at him, low and silent. The sword flashed, opening a gash, but the lynx got through, clawing and biting furiously at Warren’s pant leg. A fierce return stroke ended the flurry of claws. The lynx lay motionless.

“Fast,” Warren complained, limping away, blood dripping from his tattered pant leg.

“Did it hurt you bad?” Kendra asked.

“Surface wounds. My pants got the worst of it,” Warren said. “But it got to me. I’m not sure I like what that says about my reflexes.” The hide of the carcass began to bulge.

“Would the spear be better?” Kendra asked. “You could stab it before it gets close.”

“Maybe,” Warren said. “Trade me.” He crossed to her and they exchanged weapons.

“You’re limping,” she said.

“It’s a little tender,” he said. “I’ll hold up.”

The lynx yowled, a heartier, more powerful sound. As it stood on all fours, its head was higher than the bandage on Warren’s stomach. “Big cat,” Kendra said.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” Warren coaxed, edging toward it with the spear. The beefed-up lynx began pacing, staying out of range, moving with sure grace, hunting for an opening. The lynx darted at Warren and then pulled back. It faked a second charge, and Warren danced backwards.

“Why am I starting to feel more and more like a mouse?” Warren complained. He lunged forward, thrusting with the spear, but the lynx sprang to one side and received only a glancing blow before streaking toward Warren, low and impossibly quick, inside the reach of the spear. Warren jumped high into the air.

The lynx instantly wheeled around and raced toward Kendra. Invisible or not, the animal knew her exact location. She reversed the rod and shot upwards, coming to a stop fifty feet above the floor. After halting her ascent, Kendra did not turn invisible. It was impossible to reach a complete standstill in the air. No matter how she held the rod, there was always a slight drifting that apparently prevented the glove from working. Warren hovered about twenty feet below her, glaring at the lynx. He glanced up at Kendra, and then his eyes fixed on something beyond her. “We’ve got company,” he said.

Kendra looked up and saw Vanessa and Errol gliding down from the catwalk. “What do we do?” Kendra asked.

Swinging the spear to ward off the lynx, Warren dropped to the ground and jumped at an angle that let him float near to Kendra. “Give me the sword,” he said.

“I propose a truce,” Vanessa called down to them airily, as if it were all a game. Kendra handed Warren the sword. He gave her the spear. The exchange caused them to slowly drift apart.

“A convenient idea, since we have the weapons,” Warren growled.

“How many times have you slain the guardian?” Vanessa asked.

“None of your business,” Warren said. “Come no closer.”

She stopped, hovering with Errol beside her. Errol’s suit was torn. One of his eyes was purple and swollen shut, and there were scratches on his cheeks.

“You do not look well, Warren,” Vanessa said.

“Neither does your friend,” he replied.

“I think you two could use some assistance,” Vanessa said.

“What got him?” Warren asked. “The hobgoblin?”

Vanessa smiled. “He was injured before we entered the tower.”

“I picked up a bar of gold on the back porch,” Errol said. “Apparently it was stolen from a troll. He took it back very impolitely after we left the yard.”

Kendra covered her mouth to hide her laughter. Errol glared at her. “Your real name is Christopher Vogel?” Kendra asked.

“I have many names,” he said stiffly. “My parents gave me that one.”

“We elected to fight the Cyclops,” Vanessa said. “Lots of bare skin for my darts. And we deduced from the ax and the ape not to enter the nearby chamber armed. But this cat may pose a problem. How many times has it died? We’ve seen once.”

“You better turn around and clear out of here,” Warren said.

“I hope you aren’t counting on other help,” Vanessa said. “We found Tanu in the woods and took care of him. He will be asleep until this time tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised you came in person,” Kendra said bitterly.

“Where finesse is required, I prefer my own body,” Vanessa said.

“We have no intention of harming anyone,” Errol said. “Kendra, we just want to take the artifact and leave all of you in peace. This can still end well for you and your family.”

With a flick of his wrist, Warren soared up to their level. “Sorry if we’re out of reach,” Vanessa said.

Although hovering at the same height, they were separated by a good distance. “Either you will depart, or I will emphatically insist,” Warren said, raising the sword menacingly.

“We could fight,” Errol said calmly. “But trust me, brave as she may be, it would not take much for me to wrest that lance from the girl.” Errol pushed off of Vanessa so that both of them drifted over to opposite walls. They landed softly against the walls, staying near enough to control their direction by pushing off.

“A contest between us will end in injuries none of us can afford,” Vanessa said. “Why not first slay the beast together?”

“Because I don’t want to be stabbed in the back,” Warren said.

“You don’t imagine you can walk out of here without the artifact?” Errol asked. “There are always safeguards against such actions.”

“I’m well aware,” Warren said. “I can handle the cat.”

“How many times have you killed the beast?” Vanessa persisted.

“Three times,” Warren said.

“So this is its fourth life,” Errol said. “Hang me if it has less than nine.”

“At your best, uninjured, this guardian is too much for you or any single person,” Vanessa said. “All together we may have a chance.”

“I will not arm you,” Warren said.

Vanessa nodded at Errol. Both of them dropped rapidly along the wall until they were level with Kendra. Warren fell with them, but without a way to control his lateral movement, he could not intervene. Vanessa and Errol kicked off the wall, floating toward Kendra. She tilted the rod, floating upwards, and Vanessa and Errol adjusted to float upwards with her.

They were approaching her from opposite directions. At best she could poke one of them with the spear. Warren had lowered himself almost to the ground, but the fierce lynx was keeping him from touching down. He swatted at it with the sword. In a panic, with Vanessa and Errol closing in, Kendra tossed the spear toward Warren, yelling, “Catch!”

The spear turned end over end and narrowly missed piercing Warren before it clanged to the floor beside the lynx. Yowling, the overgrown cat guarded the spear, fangs bared. Vanessa and Errol plunged to the ground in pursuit of the fallen weapon. Errol struck the floor much harder than he must have intended, and he crumpled. Vanessa landed perfectly.

It was claw against sword as Warren lowered himself toward the snapping, hissing lynx. Vanessa dashed toward the lynx across the floor. Kendra saw a little white stick fly by her on its way back to the top of the room, and realized Errol had dropped his rod.

With Vanessa approaching from behind and Warren slicing it from above, the lynx darted away, ignoring Vanessa and racing toward Errol, who was rising shakily. Vanessa dove and grabbed the spear at the same time as Warren. Errol screamed, hobbling hopelessly away from the charging lynx, favoring his right leg.

Warren released the spear and jumped toward where the lynx was about to converge with Errol. Vanessa sprinted across the floor. The lynx sprang, and Errol vanished, reappearing a few feet off to one side. The lynx landed and swerved to stay after Errol. Spreading his hands, backing away, Errol create a puff of smoke and a blazing shower of sparks. As the undaunted lynx sprang through the fiery flash, Errol raised his arms defensively. The heavy lynx knocked Errol down and began mauling his forearm, shaking and dragging him. Vanessa arrived before Warren and buried the spear deep into the animal’s side. Warren alighted beside her and decapitated the lynx.

Kendra looked on from above in hypnotized horror. She had no love for Errol, but watching anyone get mauled like that was a terrible thing. It all happened so quickly! Smoke curled up from where sparks had singed the lynx.

“Hurry, get him another gravity stick,” Vanesssa cried.

“You can only hold one at a time,” Warren said, stepping toward her.

“Then back off!” Vanessa panted, holding up the spear defensively. Warren soared into the air. The dead lynx was churning. The severed head was melting. Vanessa glanced upwards, as if considering racing for a stick after all, then looked at the roiling corpse. “Errol, get up,” she commanded.

Dazed, the injured magician rose, standing on one leg, his tattered sleeve a bloody ruin. “On my back,” she said, turning.

He climbed up piggyback and Vanessa bounded into the air. She rose about twenty feet before slowing, stopping, and drifting back toward the ground. The black tip of the rod was pointed straight down, but still she descended. The revived cat roared. The head was shaped differently, and the body was much more muscular. The cat was now a panther.

“Errol’s bigger than her,” Warren whispered to Kendra. “Gravity is pulling him down and her up, but he’s heavier.” Warren compressed his lips. “Hand him the rod!” he shouted.

Vanessa, struggling, either didn’t hear or didn’t care. “Let go of me!” she demanded. Errol clung to her desperately.

“Don’t look,” Warren said.

Kendra closed her eyes.

The panther leaped, claws raking Errol and dragging both him and Vanessa to the floor. Errol lost his hold, and Vanessa took off like a missile, escaping unscathed as the panther finished her partner.

Vanessa shot past Warren and Kendra, then slowed and descended, hovering not far from them. “I have the spear; you have the sword,” she said, panting, her voice slightly unsteady. “The guardian probably has several more lives. How about that truce?”