"We mustn't succumb," Warren warned.
"We'll help each other," Bracken said. "Make up your minds now. No matter what happens while we are under those trees, no matter what cravings strike us, no matter what desperate urges arise, no matter what argument we make with ourselves, we will sample no fruit."
"What if the fruit overpowers our common sense?" Kendra asked. "What if we can't resist?"
"I might prefer the type of threat I can stab," Warren muttered. "In the grove our enemies will be ourselves."
Kneeling, Bracken scraped together dirt. Spitting into his palm, he mashed the dirt and worked it into pellets, then slipped two into his nostrils. He held out his hand. Kendra hesitantly took a pair of dirt balls and pressed them into place. Warren did likewise.
"I have to believe our wills are stronger than the allure of some fruit," Bracken said. "To be slain by a troll or a chimera would be sad. But to destroy ourselves to scratch an itch would be so pathetic I refuse to accept the possibility. The dirt will help you, and so will I."
"Good enough for me," Warren said, his voice a little different with his nose plugged. "Kendra?"
"Let's try the grove." She spoke like she had a cold.
"Promise me that you will not sample the fruit," Bracken said. His voice sounded no different with the dirt up his nose. "Promise me and promise yourself. Say the words."
"I promise," Kendra said.
"I swear," Warren offered.
"Link arms," Bracken instructed, rising. "Breathe through your mouths and ignore your senses. I suggest we jog."
Elbows linked, the three of them broke into a trot, breathing only through their mouths. Kendra wondered if her fairykind status would offer extra protection from the enchantment. After all, she was immune to most magical forms of mind control. But experience had shown that although her mind was protected, her emotions were vulnerable to manipulation, like from Tanu's potions or magical fear. She worried that the attraction of the fruit might attack emotion more than intellect.
Ahead of them, the trees looked like what autumn aspires to be but never quite attains. Kendra marveled at the variety and vibrancy of the leaf colors: fiery reds and oranges, deep blues and purples, electric yellows and greens. She also saw leaves of more peculiar shades, including bright pink, shiny turquoise, metallic silver, and radiant white. Some leaves featured stripes or other patterns. Even the trunks of the trees displayed unusual colors, ranging from lava red to sparkling gold to midnight black.
As they passed beneath the trees, the plump fruit came into view. Different from the leaves, the fruit tended to exhibit opalescent blends of color, smooth skin shimmering like mother-of-pearl. Other fruit possessed the rich shades of fine jewels: sapphire blues, emerald greens, and ruby reds. Kendra found herself fascinated, unable to help speculating what such beautiful fruit might taste like.
But it was not until the scents of the Beckoning Grove began to trickle past her clogged nostrils that Kendra felt a dangerous pull from the fruit. The fragrance awakened hunger like she had never known, a desperate starvation that she instinctively knew could be quickly cured by the fat fruit dangling within reach. With the hunger came a profound thirst, along with a certainty that the juices inside the fruit would satisfy the need as no thirst had been quenched before.
Kendra knew she could not be experiencing the full smell of the place. A carnal impulse screamed for her to tear the dirt balls from her nostrils so she could luxuriate in the undiluted aroma of the orchard. Her reason tried to support the urge, telling her that smelling was not eating. Why should she needlessly forgo the most stimulating smell of her life? The aroma alone would cause no harm!
Bracken released Kendra, swatting at Warren's hands as he reached to unplug his nostrils. If she exhaled sharply, Kendra felt certain she could blow out the dirt pellets. Why not? She was salivating almost painfully. The full scent of the grove might actually provide enough limited satisfaction to help distract her from the raging hunger.
"Remember!" Bracken shouted. "This orchard is a death trap! The pleasures it promises are garish wrappings over deadly gifts. Remember that we chose not to partake. Force your mind to control your base urges."
Kendra resisted.
Warren slapped himself and then bit down on his thumb.
Bracken linked arms with them again. "Take a deep breath, hold it, close your eyes, and let me lead you."
Kendra obeyed. With her breath held, the call of the fruit became less immediate. She tried to see the situation logically. What would those sumptuous fragrances do to her without the pellets in her nose? She had imagined the grove would smell good, but had ignored the desperation that smell might awaken in her appetite. If she removed the pellets, the smell would probably overwhelm her reason.
It was difficult to run while holding her breath. After a time she simply had to breathe, so she began gulping down air, trying to compensate for lost oxygen. With those deep breaths, the scents of the grove assaulted her as never before. The overpowering aroma promised more than a way to sate her appetite and slake her thirst. The smells promised ecstasy. They promised rest. They promised peace.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut and resisted. The smells were lies. False promises. Her instincts rejected the mental assertions. How could something so sublime be hazardous? But Kendra kept her mind in control. As her breathing began to stabilize, she held her breath again. The lack of air quickly made her feel light-headed, so she promptly returned to inhaling.
She could hear Warren gasping greedily on the other side of Bracken. Their progress slowed. Then Bracken released Kendra. She opened her eyes. Bracken and Warren were on the ground wrestling.
"Go," Bracken demanded. "You're almost there. Leave the grove!"
Looking ahead, Kendra could see where the exotic orchard ended. Focusing on the clearing beyond the final trees, she started running. She was acutely aware that Bracken was no longer there to help her. Her solitude increased the weight of the temptation. She tried to envision a bite of fruit blasting her to pieces, but her body would not believe the image. Maybe Warren had misunderstood the Sphinx. Maybe the grove would provide all the joy its aroma promised! Bracken and Warren might already have given up. They might be behind her right now, delicious juice dribbling down their chins, laughing at her for fleeing.
Kendra glanced back. Bracken was dragging a thrashing Warren by his feet.
Turning forward, Kendra saw that she was almost out of the grove. What if she removed the dirt pellets just for the last few steps? She wanted at least one unobstructed whiff of the grove before she exited.