"I can't make complete sense of his actions either, but there are many plausible aspects of his explanation," Grandpa maintained. "It harmonizes with what Vanessa told us about the Sphinx. It agrees with the fact that we never found the corrupt nail Seth extracted from the revenant. It names a viable source of the plague. This afternoon, Hugo and I investigated the pond where Lena now dwells, and the magic guarding that sanctuary is indeed holding off the darkness. As Graulas claimed, many of the remaining creatures of light have gathered there."
"You don't think desperation might be tainting your opinion?" Grandma asked.
"Of course it is! In order to grasp at straws, we need straws! This is our first reasonable lead since Vanessa suggested that the prisoner of the Quiet Box might be involved. It gives us a place to focus, and it has a ring of credibility to it."
"You spoke with Vanessa?" Kendra asked.
"Twice," Seth said smugly, enjoying Kendra's glare.
"What did she say?" Kendra inquired.
Grandma explained how Vanessa had implicated the prisoner as a probable source of the plague, offered her assistance in finding a cure, and hinted that she knew of other spies among the Knights of the Dawn.
"I thought she might have useful information," Kendra said. "What's the next step to follow up on Kurisock?" Warren asked.
"That is the question," Grandpa said. "If the demon can bind himself to other creatures, in effect producing a new being, we suddenly have to reconsider every entity on the preserve as a possible source of the plague. Who can say what relationship might have spawned this evil?"
Seth had something to contribute, but wanted to phrase it carefully. "When I was playing up in the attic earlier, I knocked over a journal, and it fell open to a page about Kurisock." Everyone was watching him. He swallowed and continued. "Patton thought that Kurisock was involved in destroying his uncle."
"One of Patton's great secrets," Grandma murmured. "He never fully explained how his uncle met his demise, but it was evidently connected with the fall of the old mansion, and the reason none are to trespass there. Could Kurisock have somehow reached beyond the boundaries of his realm?"
Grandpa shook his head. "He could not have personally left his domain. Like Graulas, he is bound to the parcel of land he governs, even on festival days. But he certainly could have orchestrated the mayhem from afar."
"My question is whether we abandon Fablehaven for the present," Grandma said. "This plague has enveloped so much in such a short time."
"I was ready to leave if we found no new leads," Grandpa said. "But two new reasons to stay have arisen. We have a possible source of the plague to investigate, and we have reason to suspect a second artifact may be hidden on the property."
Grandma sighed. "There is nothing in the journals or histories-"
Grandpa held up a finger. "Patton would never have passed on such sensitive information, at least not openly."
"But he passed it on at the scene of the crime?" Grandma asked dubiously.
"In a runic language that neither Warren, Dougan, nor Gavin even recognized," Grandpa reminded her. "Some obscure fairy tongue that only Kendra could decipher. Ruth, if an artifact might be here, I must remain until we either recover it or disprove its presence."
"Should we at least send the kids away?" Grandma asked.
"There remains great danger for the children beyond the walls of Fablehaven," Grandpa said. "We may reach a point when they must flee the preserve, when all of you must, but for now, as long as the kids stay in the house, I think they're safer here."
"Except for me," Seth corrected. "I can't stay indoors. Graulas said I need to figure out how to stop Kurisock."
Grandpa reddened. "Which is precisely why you shouldn't be involved. Graulas was likely luring you into peril. If the nail opened your eyes to certain dark elements, who knows how else it might be able to influence you. More than any of us, you must not take any chances."
Warren chuckled. "Then we better lock him in the Quiet Box." Seth grinned.
"So help me, Seth, for your own good, if you don't behave with maturity through this crisis, I'll take Warren up on that," Grandma vowed.
"What about our parents?" Kendra asked. "Have you heard more from them?"
"I told them we would send you home on Thursday," Grandpa said.
"Thursday!" Kendra exclaimed.
"Today is Friday," Seth said. "We're going home in less than a week?"
"Today is early Saturday morning, technically," Dale pointed out. "Midnight has passed us by."
"It was the only way to stall them," Grandpa said. "Your school starts the week after next. We'll figure out something between now and then."
Seth tapped his temple thoughtfully. "If it means getting out of school, maybe we should lock Mom and Dad in the dungeon."
"We'll do what we must," Grandpa sighed, not seeming to take the comment quite as jokingly as Seth had intended.
Chapter Fifteen
Brownie Sunday
Kendra sat before a plate of hot apple pancakes dusted with powdered sugar, already satisfied after her third swallow. Smiling at Grandma, she cut away another bite with the side of her fork and swirled it in syrup. Grandma beamed at her. Saturday morning pancakes were a Sorenson tradition, and apple pancakes were Kendra's favorite.
Kendra's meager appetite had nothing to do with the food. She was still trying to shake off the dream from the previous night.
Kendra had been back at the carnival, the same one from the limo dream, the same one where she had wandered lost as a child, except this time she was riding the Ferris wheel, rising high until the festive lights twinkled far below and the calliope music became faint, then plunging back into the smells and sights and sounds of the lively fairground. She was alone on her bench, but other friends and family were also riding the attraction. In alternating positions above and below her sat her parents, Seth, Grandpa, Grandma, Lena, Coulter, Tanu, Vanessa, Warren, Dale, Neil, Tammy, Javier, Mara, Hal, and Rosa.
As the ride went on, the speed of the Ferris wheel increased alarmingly, until Kendra was rocking precariously with wind washing over her as she repeatedly fell forward, fell backward, rose backward, and rose forward, the machine's gears squealing, riders screaming. The enormous wheel had shuddered and tilted, no longer rotating vertically. With the sound of shattering wood and groaning metal, individual seats began breaking free and plummeting to the fairground below.