Grip of the Shadow Plague

Page 39

"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.
"I do not believe Marshal planned to betray her. I am convinced that he sincerely believed he would finally settle down, that winning a hamadryad would allow him at long last to conquer his wandering heart. But his behavioral patterns were deeply ingrained, and before long, the infatuation began to wither.
"The hamadryad truly was a remarkable woman worthy of a loving mate. She quickly became my favorite relative. In fact, it was through her guidance that I became fairystruck. Tragically, our relationship was short-lived. "Within months, the marriage unraveled. The hamadryad was crushed. She had forsaken immortality under false pretenses. The betrayal cut her to the core. It poisoned her reason. She abandoned Marshal and disappeared. I searched, but failed to find her. It was years before finally I pieced together what happened to Ephira."
"Your aunt is the shadow lady!" Seth exclaimed.
"I'm beginning to see why you withheld this story," Lena remarked sadly.
"Ephira became obsessed with regaining her status as a hamadryad," Patton continued. "She did not care that such a feat was impossible. She saw it as the only possible compensation for her unjust treatment. As part of her desperate pursuit, she loosed one of Muriel Taggert's knots. She later visited the swamp hag, who directed her to Kurisock. It was finally the demon who struck a bargain with Ephira that would enable her to return to a nonmortal life.
"To understand what comes next, you must realize that the life of a hamadryad is inextricably connected to a particular tree. When the tree dies, she dies with it, unless the connection is passed through a seed of the original tree to a new one. Because their trees can be reborn as seedlings, hamadryads are virtually immortal. But the tree also constitutes a weakness, a secret that must be zealously guarded.
"When Ephira fell to mortality, she lost the connection with her tree. But any magic that can be done can also be undone. Ephira still knew where her tree was located. Under orders from Kurisock, she cut it down with her own hands, burned it, and brought the last seed to the demon.
"The bond between Ephira and her tree may have been sundered, but like all broken magic, it was mendable. Using his unusual gifts, Kurisock bound himself to the seed, and through the seed to Ephira, reforging her connection."
"But she didn't turn back into a hamadryad," Kendra realized, chills racing down her back. "She became something else."
"Something new," Patton agreed. "She became dark and spectral, tainted by demonic power, a negative of her former self. Merging with Kurisock magnified her vengeful feelings. Still within her rights to enter the manor, she returned and destroyed Marshal and some others who lived there. I managed to swipe the key pages of the treaty from the register and flee."
"How did you piece all this together?" Kendra asked.
"I became preoccupied with knowing. Many of the details are inferences, but I am convinced they are correct. I interviewed Muriel and the swamp hag. I found the tree Ephira cut and burned. And finally I visited the tar pit and beheld the dark sapling. I wish I had hazarded to hack it down at the time. Now, presumably, the nail from the revenant has been added to the accursed tree, heightening Kurisock's might and Ephira's power, making the darkness that cankered her soul contagious. The same way Kurisock transformed her by inhabiting the tree, he can now reach out through her and transform others."
"Did you ever visit Ephira?" Kendra asked.
"I rarely approached the manor," Patton said. "I left her notes, and a picture of me and Lena after we were married. She never responded. The only time I reentered the manor was to hide the Chronometer in the safe."
"How did you get the safe in there?" Seth asked.
"I went during the night of the vernal equinox," Patton said. "I had noted on a previous festival night that Ephira roams the preserve on those boisterous evenings. It was risky, but to me the danger was worth hiding the artifact in a secure place."
"Patton," Lena said tenderly. "What a burden this tale must have been! What a source of worry throughout our courtship and marriage! How did you ever fall in love with me?"
"You can see why I hesitated to share the story," Patton said. "After I allowed myself to be drawn to you, I vowed our relationship would be different, that you would have all Ephira had lacked. But the story haunted me. Haunts me. Those who knew the tale of Ephira and Marshal questioned my judgment when I led you from the water. I sent away those who could not keep quiet. Despite my determination to make our relationship flourish, there have been times when doubt has tormented me. I could not imagine what the tale might have done to you, with so much more at risk."
"I'm glad I didn't hear the account during the early years of our marriage," Lena admitted. "It would have made a difficult period harder. But know this now: Ephira understood the risks before she made her leap. We all do. She did not have to ruin her existence, betrayal or no. And even though you may not want me to spoil the secrets of our years together, know this much: I made the right choice. I proved that, didn't I, by choosing you again?"
Patton struggled with emotion. Veins stood out on the back of his fists. All he could manage was a nod.
"What an unfair situation for you, Patton, speaking to me after I've experienced our entire mortal relationship. You are not yet fully the man you will become. In your life, our relationship has not yet arrived at full fruition. I don't mean to overwhelm you with implications about what our marriage will be, or make you feel obligated to take it there. Don't worry, just let it happen. As I look back, I loved all of it, the man you were at first, as well as the man you became."
"Thank you," Patton said. "The situation is extraordinary. I must say, it is a relief to come here and find my best friend waiting."
"We should save some of these words for later," Lena said, glancing at Kendra and Seth.
"Right," Patton said. "You all now know the secrets I have carried about Kurisock and Ephira."
"Now the big question," Seth said. "How do we stop them?"
The tent was silent.
"The situation is dire," Patton said. "I am going to level with you. I have no idea."
Chapter Twenty-One
Fairykind
A heavy atmosphere pervaded the tent. The housefly performing acrobatics above Patton and Lena sounded unusually noisy. Kendra smoothed her hands over the fabric floor, feeling the contours of the ground underneath. She exchanged a concerned glance with Seth.
"What about this thing?" Seth asked, hefting the Chronometer. "Maybe we could travel back in time and stop the plague before it starts."
Patton shook his head. "I spent months trying to unravel the secrets of the Chronometer. It has the reputation as the most difficult of the artifacts to use. Although the artifact allegedly has many functions, I managed to discover only a few."
"Anything useful?" Seth asked, fingering a slightly raised dial on the sphere.
"Careful," Patton warned sharply. Seth stopped fiddling with the dial. "I know the button to use in order to travel forward in time to the next moment that same button is pressed. I figured out how to set the Chronometer in order to make the safe appear once per week for a minute. And I can temporarily slow down time, making the rest of the world move faster than the person in possession of the Chronometer. I can't foresee how any of those functions will help resolve our present concerns."
"If we're out of ideas," Kendra said, "the Fairy Queen might be our best chance. I could return the bowl to the island and explain the situation. Maybe she can help."