Home > Grip of the Shadow Plague (Fablehaven #3)(84)

Grip of the Shadow Plague (Fablehaven #3)(84)
Author: Brandon Mull

Kendra swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. "Do I need to be the person who touches them together?"

Not necessarily. I would prefer that you survive the endeavor. But whether you or another will complete the task, if the light and dark objects can be joined, the sacrifice will be worthwhile. Much that has darkened will be restored.

"Can we fix your shrine afterward?" Kendra asked hopefully.

This shrine will be beyond repair.

"I won't hear from you again?"

Not here.

"I'd have to find another shrine. Could I approach it if I find it?"

Kendra sensed laughter mingled with affection. You wonderwhy my shrines are so heavily protected. Having points ofcontact to your world makes me vulnerable. If evil finds my kingdom,all creatures of light will suffer. For their welfare, I mustkeep my realm unspoiled, and so I zealously guard my shrines.As a rule, all trespassers must perish. I rarely grant exceptions.

"Does being fairykind allow me access?" Kendra asked.

Notinherently. If you ever find another shrine, search your feelings for the answer. You have sufficient light to guide you.

"I'm afraid to try to destroy the nail," Kendra confessed. She did not want the conversation with the Fairy Queen to end.

I am reluctant to destroy this shrine. Kendra could feel her deep sadness. The emotion brought tears to her eyes. Sometimes we do what we must.

"Okay," Kendra said. "I'll do my best. One last question. If I survive this, what am I supposed to do? As fairykind, I mean."

Live a fruitful life. Resistevil. Give more than you take. Help others do likewise. The rest will take care of itself. Step away from the shrine.

Kendra backed away from the miniature statue on the tiny plinth. Her vision blurred, and a flood of sensations overwhelmed her. She tasted sweet honey, crisp apples, fleshy mushrooms, and pure water. She smelled plowed fields, damp grass, ripe grapes, and pungent herbs. She heard the rush of wind, the crash of waves, the roar of thunder, and the faint crackle of a duckling punching through an eggshell. She felt sunlight warming her skin and a light mist cooling her. Sight was temporarily unavailable, but she simultaneously tasted, smelled, heard, and felt a thousand other sensations, all distinct and unmistakable.

When her vision returned, Kendra found the tiny fairy statue shining intensely. She instinctively squinted and shielded her eyes, worried that the brilliant light might cause lasting damage. When she peeked, the radiance did not inflict any pain. Hoping the brightness was benign, she gazed openly at the statue. By contrast, the rest of the world became dull, drained, dreary. All color, all light, had converged on the thumb-sized figurine.

And then the statue shattered, stone flakes chiming as they dispersed. Upon the small pedestal remained a dazzling, egg-shaped pebble. For an instant, the pebble flashed brighter than the statue had gleamed. Then the light diminished, absorbed into the stone, until the ovoid pebble became rather unremarkable, except for being so white and smooth.

Color returned to the world. The late afternoon sun shone brightly again. Kendra could no longer sense the presence of the Fairy Queen.

Kneeling, she picked up the smooth pebble. It felt ordinary, weighing no more or less than she expected. Although it no longer glowed, she felt certain the pebble was the talisman. How could all the power protecting the shrine fit inside such a small, nondescript object?

Looking around, Kendra saw that Patton had the rowboat back on the shore. She hurried over to him, worried that the naiads would haul the boat away before she got there.

"No rush," Patton said. "They're under orders."

"Reluctantly," a voice muttered from under the water.

"Hush," a different naiad scolded. "We're not supposed to talk."

"I got a free ride back last time as well," Kendra said, stepping into the boat.

"Good news?" he asked.

"Generally," Kendra said. "I'd better wait until we're back at the tent."

"Fair enough," Patton agreed. "One thing I'll say-that stone shines almost as brightly as you do."

Kendra glanced at the stone. It was flawlessly white and smooth, but did not seem to her to emit any light. She sat down. Patton rested the oars across his lap. Guided by unseen hands, the rowboat coasted away from the island and drifted toward the boathouse. Glancing up, Kendra saw a golden owl with a human face gazing down at her from a high limb, a tear sliding from one eye.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Light

Seth waited beside Lena in the gazebo above the pier.

None of the satyrs, dryads, or dwarfs lingered on the boardwalk or in any of the other pavilions. As Patton had asked, they remained out of sight.

Kendra and Patton reclined in the rowboat, returning placidly toward the boathouse, apparently towed by the same naiads who had recently been attacking them. Seth wished he could have seen what Kendra was doing out on the island, but she spent most of the time screened by bushes. Lena had described a blinding light, but Seth had failed to see it.

"You were awesome at dodging those naiads," Seth said.

"Anything to distract them from drowning my husband," Lena replied. "Part of me will always love my sisters, but they can be such pests! I was glad for an excuse to bait them."

"Do you think Kendra succeeded?"

"She must have made contact. Only the queen could have ordered the naiads to conduct them safely back to shore." Lena narrowed her eyes. "Something has changed about the island. I can't quite put my finger on it. After the flash, there is a new feeling permeating this whole area." Lips pursed, Lena thoughtfully watched the rowboat glide into the boathouse.

Seth bounded down the steps to the pier, arriving at the boathouse door as Kendra and Patton exited. "Anything good happen?" Seth asked.

"Pretty good," Kendra said.

"What's with the egg?" Seth inquired.

"It's a pebble," Kendra corrected, closing her fingers around it tightly. "I'll fill you guys in, but we should do it back at the tent."

Patton embraced Lena. "You were wonderful," he said, pecking her on the lips. "However, I don't enjoy seeing you so near those naiads. I can think of few people they would rather drag to the bottom of the pond."

"I can think of few people they would have a harder time catching," Lena responded smugly.

They mounted the stairs to the gazebo and then descended a few steps into the grassy field. Three towering dryads strode briskly toward them, obstructing their route to the tent. In the middle, tallest of the three, walked the dryad Seth had seen consulting with Grandpa and Grandma, her auburn hair flowing past her waist. The dryad to her left looked Native American and wore earthy robes. The dryad on the right was a platinum blonde with a gown like a frozen waterfall. All of the graceful women stood at least a head taller than Patton.

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