Home > Grip of the Shadow Plague (Fablehaven #3)(79)

Grip of the Shadow Plague (Fablehaven #3)(79)
Author: Brandon Mull

"I can't believe you left the pond so eagerly," Kendra said to Lena. "I've wanted you out of there ever since you entered."

"You were sweet to come for me," Lena replied. "I remember when you first tried to talk me out of it. My mind was cloudy. It functioned differently. I had lost much of who I became in mortality. Not enough to really fit in, but enough to stay put. Life in the pond is indescribably easy. Virtually meaningless, but devoid of pain, almost devoid of thought. There were many things I did not miss about mortality. In a way, returning to the water was like dying. I no longer had to cope with living. Until I saw Patton, I wanted to stay dead."

"You feel lucid now?" Patton asked.

"Like my old self," Lena said. "Or I guess I should say like my young self. With my present mind, with or without you, Patton, I would never choose the numbness of the pond. That spell grips me only when I'm in there. Tell me about this plague."

Kendra and Seth related all the details about the plague. Seth told about his meeting with Graulas and the cords he had seen connected to Ephira at the manor. Lena was saddened to hear that Grandma, Grandpa, and the others had become shadows. Patton expressed surprise at the mention of Navarog.

"If Navarog has truly emerged from captivity, you have not heard the last from him. In lore, Navarog is widely acknowledged as the most corrupt and dangerous of all dragons. Recognized as a prince among demons, he will stop at nothing to liberate the monstrosities confined in Zzyzx."

Next the conversation shifted to the artifacts. Kendra and Seth shared all they knew about the five artifacts, and recounted how they had recovered the healing artifact from the inverted tower. Kendra went on to outline her exploits at Lost Mesa, and told how the Knights of the Dawn lacked information about one of the secret preserves.

"So the inverted tower held the Sands of Sanctity," Patton said. "I never checked. I wanted to leave the traps armed and undisturbed."

"Why did you take the Chronometer from Lost Mesa?"

Kendra asked.

Patton scratched his mustache. "The more I thought about the potential of those artifacts to open the gates of the great demon prison, the less I liked how many people knew where they were hidden. The Knights of the Dawn mean well, but organizations like that have a way of keeping secrets alive and helping them spread. I knew only one person in the world I would trust with such vital information. Me. So I took it upon myself to uncover all I could about the artifacts, in order to make them harder to find. The only artifact I ever actually removed was the one at Lost Mesa."

"How did you get by the dragon?" Kendra asked.

Patton shrugged. "I have my share of talents, among them taming dragons. I am far from the most accomplished dragon tamer you will meet-barely passable, in fact-but I can normally conduct a conversation without losing control of my faculties. The artifact at Lost Mesa was protected by a wicked dragon named Ranticus, rotten to the core."

"Ranticus was the name of the dragon in the museum," Kendra recalled.

"Correct. Vast networks of caverns lurk below Lost Mesa. After much exploration, I learned of a band of goblins with access to the lair where Ranticus dwelled. The goblins worshipped him, using their secret entrance to bring him tributes-food, mostly. Slaying a dragon is no small feat, a task more for wizards than for warriors. But there is a rare weed called daughter-of-despair from which you can derive a toxin known as dragonsbane, the only venom capable of poisoning a dragon. Finding the weed and formulating the poison was a quest all its own. Once I had the toxin, disguised as a goblin, I brought Ranticus a dead ox saturated with the poison."

"Couldn't Ranticus smell it?" Seth wondered.

"Dragonsbane is imperceptible. If not, it would never work against a dragon. And I was heavily disguised, down to wearing goblin skin over my own."

"You poisoned him?" Seth exclaimed. "It worked? Then you really were a dragon slayer!"

"I suppose I can own up to it now. During my lifetime I did not want word getting around."

"You started a few of those rumors yourself," Lena chided.

Patton cocked his head and tugged at his collar.

"Vain glory aside, after disposing of Ranticus, I defeated the guardians of the artifact, a troop of ghostly knights, in a battle I would rather forget. Then, in order to avoid suspicions that I had removed the Chronometer, I needed to restore a guardian to the caves. When other business took me to Wyrmroost, one of the dragon sanctuaries, I swiped an egg and hatched it at Lost Mesa. I named the dragon Chalize and kept an eye on her during her infancy. Before long, the goblins took to her, and my assistance was no longer required. Some years later, I donated the bones of Ranticus to the museum."

"Have you killed other dragons?" Seth asked eagerly.

"Killing a dragon is not always a good thing," Patton said earnestly. "Dragons are more humanlike than most magical creatures. They have a great deal of self-possession. Some are good, some are evil, many are in between. No two dragons are identical, and few are very much alike."

"And no dragons appreciate it when somebody outside their community slays one of their kind," Lena said. "Most consider it an unpardonable crime. Which is why I insisted that Patton keep his dragon slayings unconfirmed."

Seth stabbed a finger at Lena. "You said 'slayings.' As in multiple dragons."

"Now would be a poor time to relive past adventures unrelated to our present predicament," Patton said. "I can fill in some of your other missing connections. I know a lot about Ephira. Much more than I would like." He lowered his eyes, the muscles tensing in his jaw. "Hers is a tragic story I have never shared. But I think the time has come."

"You used to tell me I would hear this story one day," Lena said. "Is this what you meant?" "I expect so," Patton replied, folding his hands. "Long ago, my uncle Marshal Burgess ran Fablehaven. He was never officially the caretaker-my proud grandfather retained the title but delegated all responsibility to Marshal, who managed the preserve admirably. Although not the best in a fight, Marshal was a skillful diplomat and a wonderful mentor. Women were his big weakness. He had an undentable knack for attracting them, but he could never settle on one. Marshal weathered numerous scandals and three failed marriages before becoming infatuated with a certain hamadryad.

"Of all the tree nymphs at Fablehaven, she was the brightest, the bubbliest, the most flirtatious, always laughing, always leading a game or a song. Once she caught his fancy, Marshal became obsessed. When Marshal gave chase, I never knew of a woman who could resist him, and this vivacious hamadryad was no exception. Their courtship was brief and passionate. Amid ardent promises of everlasting fidelity, she renounced the trees and married him.

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