Kendra leaned to prevent the boat from capsizing, and the boat abruptly rocked the other way. Kendra changed position, counterbalancing desperately. She saw wet fingers holding the side of the boat and slapped at them. The action was rewarded by giggling.
The boat began to rotate quickly. Leave me alone!
Kendra demanded. I have to get to the island. This earned a longer titter from multiple voices.
Kendra paddled furiously, but it did no good. She kept spinning and getting hauled in the wrong direction. The naiads started rocking the boat again. Thanks to the low center of gravity, Kendra found that leaning was enough to prevent the boat from capsizing, but the naiads were relentless.
They tried to distract her by banging the bottom of the vessel and by waving at her. The boat pitched and rocked and spun, and then suddenly the naiads would heave in earnest, trying to catch her off balance. Time after time, Kendra reacted quickly, shifting her weight to spoil their attempts to flip her. It was a stalemate.
The naiads did not show themselves. She heard their laughter and glimpsed their hands, but never saw a face.
Kendra decided to quit paddling. It was getting her nowhere, and wasting energy. She resolved to exert herself only to keep the boat from tipping.
The attempts grew less frequent. She said nothing, made no response to the taunting giggles, ignored the hands on the side of the boat. She simply leaned as needed when they tried to tip the boat. She was getting better at it. They were not able to tilt it as much.
The attempts stopped. After about a minute of no activity, Kendra started paddling toward the island. Her progress was soon halted. She quit paddling immediately.
The naiads spun her and rocked her some more.
She waited. After another minute of tranquility she paddled again. Again they pulled her away. But less eagerly.
She sensed them giving up, getting bored.
On her eighth try using this technique, the naiads apparently lost interest. The island grew closer. Twenty yards. Ten yards. She expected them to stop her at the last moment. They didn't. The front of her paddleboat scraped against the shore. Everything remained still.
The moment of truth had arrived. When she set foot on the island, either she would transform into a cloud of dandelion fluff and drift away, or she wouldn't.
Almost indifferent at this point, Kendra leaped out of the boat and landed on the shore. There did not seem to be anything magical or even special about it, and she did not turn into a cloud of seeds.
There was, however, a barrage of laughter from behind her. Kendra whirled in time to see her paddleboat drifting away from the island. It was already too late to do anything without jumping into the water. She slapped herself on the forehead with the heel of her hand. The naiads had not given up-they were trying a different strategy! She had been so distracted by the prospect of becoming dandelion fluff that she had not hauled the boat out of the water as she should have. She could have at least kept hold of the rope!
Well, one more favor to ask the Fairy Queen.
The island was not large. It took only about seventy paces for Kendra to walk around the edge of it. Her tour of the perimeter revealed nothing interesting. The shrine was probably near the center.
Although the island had no trees, it had many shrubs, many of them taller than Kendra. There were no trails, and pressing through them was irritating. What would the shrine look like? She pictured a little building, but after crisscrossing the island a few times, she realized there was no such structure.
Maybe she had not turned to dandelion seeds because the island was a hoax. Or maybe the shrine was no longer here. Either way, she was stranded on a tiny island in the middle of a pond full of creatures who wanted to drown her. What would drowning feel like? Would she actually inhale water, or just pass out? Or would the demon get her first?
No! She had come this far. She would look again, more carefully. Maybe the shrine was something natural, like a special bush or stump.
She walked around the perimeter of the island again, more slowly this time. She noticed a thin trickle of water.
It was strange to find a stream, no matter how small, on such a tiny island. She followed the stream toward the center of the island until she found the place where it came bubbling out of the ground.
There, at the source of the spring, was a two-inch-tall statue of a fairy, finely carved. It rested on a white pedestal that added a few more inches to the height. A small silver bowl sat in front of it.
Of course! Fairies were so tiny, it made sense that the shrine would be miniature as well!
Kendra fell to her knees beside the spring, directly in front of the small figurine. The night was very still.
Looking to the sky, Kendra noticed that the eastern horizon was turning purple. Night was coming to an end.
All Kendra could think to do was pour her heart out in complete sincerity. Hello, Fairy Queen. Thank you for letting me visit you without changing me into dandelion seeds.
Kendra swallowed. This felt weird, talking to a diminutive statue. There was nothing regal about it. If you can help me, I really need it. A witch named Muriel is about to set free a demon named Bahumat. The witch has my Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson prisoner, along with my brother, Seth, and my friend Lena. If that demon gets out, it will wreck this whole preserve, and there is no way I can stop it from happening without your help. Please, I really love my family, and if I don't do something, that demon is going to, he's going to- The reality of what she was saying hit her like a great weight and spilled out as tears. For the first time, the fact that Seth was going to die fully entered her mind. She thought of moments with him, both endearing and annoying, and realized that there would be no more of either.
She shook with sobs. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She let them come. She needed the release, to stop trying to suppress the horror of it all. The tears she had shed while fleeing the Forgotten Chapel had been of shock and terror. These were tears of realization.
Tears slid down her chin and plopped into the silver bowl. Her breathing came in ragged gasps between sobs.
Please help me, she finally managed.
An aromatic breeze drifted over the island. It smelled of rich soil and new blossoms, with just a hint of the sea.
Her crying began to subside. Kendra brushed the tears from her cheeks and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She sniffed, amazed at how swiftly congestion could appear.
The miniature statue was wet. Had she cried on it? No!
Water was seeping from its eyes, trickling down into the silver bowl.
The air stirred again, still redolent with potent aromas.
Kendra inexplicably sensed a presence. She was no longer alone.
I accept your offering, and join you in weeping.