"I think I'll also ask Lena if we can get the bowl back," Kendra said.
"The bowl from the shrine?" Grandpa asked.
"I was talking to a fairy earlier this summer, Shiara, who told me the naiads claimed the bowl as a trophy."
Grandpa frowned. "They guard the shrine. I assumed that trusting the bowl to their care would be the best way to ensure it was returned, since treading on the island is forbidden."
"Shiara said I wouldn't have been punished for personally returning it. Her words felt true. I was thinking, if I could get the bowl-"
"-maybe you could use it as an excuse to safely gain access to the island and approach the Fairy Queen about the plague. The odds for success aren't terrific, but we can at least inquire about the bowl."
"Right," Kendra said. She strode down the pier, glancing back when Grandpa did not accompany her. "I'll hang back and let you call to Lena," Grandpa said. "I had no luck last time."
Kendra walked to the end of the quay, stopping a few feet from the edge. She knew not to get near enough to the water for the naiads to grab hold of her. "Lena, it's Kendra! We need to talk."
"Look who blew in with the homeless land-plodders," said a snide female voice from below the water.
"I thought that puppet would have strangled her by now," responded a second speaker.
Kendra scowled. Upon one of her previous visits to the pond, the naiads had released Mendigo. Still under orders from Muriel the witch, the limberjack had snatched Kendra and taken her to the hill where the Forgotten Chapel once stood.
"You might as well summon Lena," Kendra stated. "I brought her a present she'll want to see."
"You may as well hobble away on your clumsy stilts," admonished a third voice. "Lena wants nothing to do with ground-stalkers."
Kendra raised her voice even more. "Lena, I brought a picture of your favorite land-plodder. A photograph of Patton."
"Go dig a hole and lie in it," hissed the first voice with a hint of desperation. "Even a dull-witted air-gulper should recognize when her company is undesired."
"Grow old and die," spat another naiad.
"Kendra, wait!" called a familiar voice, dreamy and musical. Lena drifted into view, her upturned face just below the surface of the water. She looked even younger than the last time Kendra had seen her. Not a trace of gray remained in her black hair.
"Lena," Kendra said, "we need your help."
Lena regarded Kendra with her dark, almond-shapedeyes. "You mentioned a photograph."
"Patton looks very handsome in it."
"What would Lena care about some dry old picture?" squealed a voice. Other naiads tittered.
"What do you need?" Lena inquired sedately.
"I have good reason to believe Patton brought a second artifact to Fablehaven. I'm talking about the serious artifacts, the ones the Society wants. Do you know anything about it?"
Lena stared at Kendra. "I remember. Patton made me pledge not to share the secret unless it was absolutely necessary. That man was so funny about his mysteries. As if any of it really mattered."
"Lena, we absolutely need to locate the artifact. Fablehaven is on the brink of collapse."
"Again? Do you hope to trade the photograph for information about the artifact? Kendra, the water would ruin it."
"Not the photo itself," Kendra said. "Just a peek. How long has it been since you've seen his face?"
For an instant, Lena looked wounded, but her serenity returned almost immediately. "Don't you see that finding the artifact is irrelevant? Everything up there ends. Everything is fleeting, illusory, temporary. All you can show me is a flat image of my beloved, a lifeless memory. The real man is gone. As you will be also."
"If it truly doesn't matter, Lena," Grandpa said from farther back on the pier, "why not tell us? The information means nothing to you, but here, now, for the short time we live and breathe, it matters to us."
"The old one is yapping now," complained an unseen naiad.
"Don't answer him, Lena," encouraged a second voice. "Wait him out. He'll be dead before you know it."
Several voices giggled.
"Have you forgotten our friendship, Lena?" Grandpa asked.
"Please tell us," Kendra said. "For Patton." She held up the picture.
Lena's eyes widened. Her face broke the surface of the water and she mouthed Patton's name.
"Don't make us drag you under," warned a voice.
"Touch me and so help me I'll abandon you," Lena murmured, entranced by the image Kendra held.
Lena's gaze shifted to Kendra. "All right, Kendra. Perhaps this is what he would have wanted. He hid the artifact in the old manor."
"Where in the manor?"
"It will be hard to find. Go to the northernmost room on the third floor. The safe with the artifact inside appears every Monday at noon for one minute."
"Does the safe have a key?"
"A combination: right twice to 33, left once to 22, then right to 31."
Kendra glanced back at Grandpa. He was jotting down the numbers. "Got that?" she asked.
"33-22-31," he said, giving Lena a funny look.
His former housekeeper averted her eyes shyly.
"I have another question," Kendra asked. "What did Kurisock do to Patton's uncle?"
"I don't know," Lena said. "Patton never shared that story. It plainly pained him, so I never pressed. He meant to tell me, I think, in his later years. He repeatedly told me I would hear the tale one day."
"So you know nothing about Kurisock?" Kendra asked.
"Only that he is a demon on this preserve. And he may have been somehow affiliated with the apparition who usurped the manor."
"What apparition?" Kendra asked.
"It happened before my fall to mortality. Like I said, I never learned the details. The apparition who destroyed Marshal no doubt still resides in the manor. Patton hid the artifact there because it would be well guarded."
"Marshal was Patton's uncle?"
"Marshal Burgess."
"One last thing. There is a silver bowl. The Fairy Queen gave it to me."
Lena nodded. "Forget the bowl. You cast it into the pond, and we have claimed it."
"I need it back," Kendra said. There was a chorus of hearty laughter from the other naiads. "It's the key for me to safely approach the Fairy Queen again. She may be our only hope of overcoming the plague."