Fablehaven I (39 page)

unable to carry out the intention. Standing close to him,

she reached out a tentative finger and touched his wooden

torso. He did not react, except to continue struggling

against whatever force prevented him from seizing her.

You can’t touch me. I haven’t done anything mean or

used any magic. But I can touch you. She gently stroked

both of his arms just beneath the shoulders. The limberjack

jittered with the effort of trying to grasp her.

Want to see my second decisive move of the night?

she asked. Mendigo quivered, hooks jingling, but remained

powerless to take hold of Kendra. Unconsciously biting her

lower lip, she grabbed both arms just below the shoulders,

unhooked them, and dashed away from the limber jack. She

heard the overgrown puppet chasing her as she raced to the

edge of the pond and hurled the wooden arms into the

water.

Something clipped Kendra’s shoulder and sent her

spinning to the ground. A crushing force pressed against

her back, pinning her down. She could hardly breathe.

Craning her neck, she saw Mendigo looming over her,

using his foot to hold her in place. How could a creature

that looked so flimsy be so strong? The spot where he had

kicked her stung deep-it would certainly bruise.

Kendra reached for his other leg, hoping to unhook the

shin, but the puppet danced out of reach. For a moment

Mendigo appeared indecisive. Kendra prepared to roll away

in case he charged and tried to kick her again. If she could

just unhook a leg!

Instead, Mendigo hurried onto the pier. Both of his

arms were floating on the water. One had almost drifted

within reach of the pier. Mendigo crouched, balancing

carefully on one foot, and stretched out a leg toward the

nearest arm.

Just as his toes made contact, a white hand shot out of

the water and seized Mendigo by the ankle, yanking him

into the pond with a splash. Kendra waited, holding her

breath as she watched. The limberjack did not resurface.

She dashed back to the steps and picked up the bowl.

Kendra dared not run while holding the tears. Instead she

walked swiftly, careful not to waste any of her precious

cargo. She walked across the lawn, through the arch, down

the path, and onto the road.

Stars continued to fade in the eastern sky. Kendra hurried

along the road. She was pretty sure her sheltered status

was at an end. But, if mischief had to be done, at least it

had felt worthwhile. She had a feeling it would not be her

final mischievous act of the night.

Bahumat

By the time Kendra reached the barn, a predawn gray

dominated the eastern horizon. Her journey from the

pond had been uneventful. Not a drop had spilled from the

silver bowl. She went around to the little door Seth had

kicked open and ducked inside.

The titanic cow stood munching hay from the loft.

Every time Kendra saw Viola, she marveled anew at her

enormity. The cow’s udder was bloated, nearly as badly as

the first time they had milked her.

Kendra had the tears. Now she needed milk and blood.

Since the Fairy Queen had been communicating mentally,

Kendra trusted her first impressions. The milk would

have to be Viola’s. And the blood? Her own? The cow’s?

Probably both to be safe. Maybe both were required. But

first the milk.

Kendra set the silver bowl in a protected corner and

retrieved one of the ladders. She intended to steal only a

few squirts. There was no time for a proper milking.

Kendra had never tried to collect Viola’s milk. She and

Seth had simply been relieving pressure for the cow and

letting it spill all over the floor. There were plenty of barrels,

but trying to dump a barrel into a little silver bowl

seemed tricky. And considering that she would be sliding

down a teat to get milk out, it seemed like it would be hard

to avoid falling in the barrel herself.

She located a large pie tin, the kind Dale used to leave

milk around the yard. Perfect. Small enough to dodge, but

big enough to catch all the milk she would need. She positioned

the tin under the teat, trying to estimate where the

milk would squirt.

Kendra climbed the ladder and jumped, embracing the

fleshy teat. Milk gushed to the floor. Only a little splashed

into the tin. She adjusted the tin, climbed the ladder, and

tried again. This time was a direct hit, filling the tin almost

to the brim, and she even managed to keep her feet on the

landing.

Kendra brought the tin over to the silver bowl. She

poured milk until the bowl was three-quarters of the way

full. Only blood remained.

Viola mooed thunderously, apparently upset at having

her milking abruptly halted right after it began. You’re

going to moo louder than that, Kendra muttered under

her breath.

How much blood would she need? The Fairy Queen

had not specified quantities. Kendra went through the closets

looking for tools. She ended up with a weed digger and

another pie tin. Getting enough blood to pour from a pie

tin into the bowl would be disgusting, but she was scared

that if she tried to put blood from the source directly into

the bowl she would end up spilling everything.

Viola! Kendra called. I don’t know if you can understand

me. I need some of your blood in order to save my family.

This might sting a little, so try to be brave.

The cow gave no sign of comprehension. Kendra

returned to the teat she had been milking. It was the one

area not protected by fur, so she figured it would be the best

place to harvest some blood.

She climbed the ladder only a couple of steps. She

wanted to stab the teat low, so it would drip. If she had

found a knife, she would have tried to make a cut. The

only thing sharp about the weed digger were the points at

the end, so she would have to go with a puncture wound.

Up close, as she contemplated stabbing it, the pink teat

looked alien. She needed to stab hard. On an animal this

big, the skin would be pretty thick. She told herself it

would just feel like a thorn to the enormous cow. But would

she want somebody jabbing a thorn into her? The cow

would probably get upset.

Kendra raised the weed digger, holding the pie tin in

her other hand. Sorry, Viola! she yelled, plunging the

weed digger into the spongy flesh. The tool sank almost to

the handle, and Viola made a terrified bellow.

The heavy teat swung into Kendra, slamming her off

the ladder. She kept hold of the weed digger, wrenching it

free of the wound as she fell. The ladder clattered to the

floor beside her.

Viola sidestepped and tossed her head, bellowing again.

The barn shook, and Kendra heard timbers splitting. The

roof shuddered. The walls swayed and cracked. Kendra covered

her head. Gigantic hooves thumped against the floor,

and Viola let out a long, plaintive moo. Then the cow

settled down.

Kendra looked up. Dust and hay floated down from

above. Blood trickled down the teat, already dripping from

the tip.

Since Viola had calmed down, and the blood was flowing

freely, Kendra cast aside the pie tin and retrieved the

silver bowl. Standing under the teat, she started catching

drops of blood. She had toured a cave with her family once,

and the sight reminded her of water dripping from a

stalactite.

Soon the mixture in the bowl turned from white to

pink. The flow of blood slowed. The lower side and tip of

the teat were stained red. Kendra supposed it was enough.

She went and sat by the little door. Now for her blood.

Maybe she could just try the cow blood and see if that

worked. No, haste was essential. How would she get blood

out? No way was she using the weed digger unless she could

sterilize it.

Leaving the bowl, she hunted through the closets

again. She noticed a safety pin on a pair of coveralls. She

unpinned it and ran back to the bowl.

Holding her hand over the bowl, she hesitated. Kendra

had always hated needles, the idea of being fully aware that

something was about to hurt but having to endure it

calmly. But today was not a day to be squeamish. Gritting

her teeth, she stuck her thumb with the pin and then

squeezed two drops of blood into the mixture. That would

have to do.

Kendra looked at the pie tin. She should probably

drink some milk herself, since a new day was beginning.

She took a sip. Then she realized that her family would

need milk as well when she found them.

There had been bottled water in one of the closets.

Kendra hurried to the closet, selected a bottle, unscrewed

the cap, dumped the contents, and filled it with milk from

the pie tin. The bottle barely fit in her pocket.

Kendra retrieved the small silver bowl. Swirling the

solution a bit, she exited the barn. Predawn colors streaked

the horizon. Sunrise was approaching.

Now what? There were no fairies in sight. When the

Fairy Queen had given instructions, Kendra had felt no

doubt that the handmaidens she referred to were the fairies.

She was supposed to make a potion for them that would

somehow get them to help her.

What would it do? Kendra realized that she had no

idea. What could it do? Win their affection? Then what?

Lacking other options, she had to trust the reassurance she

had felt when the Fairy Queen spoke to her mind.

First she needed to find fairies. She wandered the garden.

There was one, clad in orange and black with matching

butterfly wings. Hey, fairy, I have something for you!

she cried.

The fairy darted over to her, looked at the bowl, started

chirping in a squeaky voice, and zoomed away. Kendra

roamed until she found another fairy, and ended up with an

identical reaction. The fairy acted excited and then flew

away.

Soon multiple fairies were flying up to Kendra, peeking

in the bowl, and then soaring off. They were apparently

spreading the news.

Kendra ended up beside the metal statue of Dale. She

set the bowl on the ground and backed away, in case her

proximity might discourage the fairies. The morning grew

brighter. Before long, dozens of fairies hovered around the

bowl. They were no longer showing up only to zip away. A

crowd was forming. Occasionally one would fly right up to

the bowl and peer inside. One even laid a tiny hand on the

rim. But none took a drink. Most stayed several feet away.

The crowd swelled to more than a hundred. Still they

would not drink. Kendra tried to be patient. She did not

want to frighten them away.

Suddenly the sound of a mighty wind interrupted the