other, and a smaller paddleboat. The paddleboat was the
kind with bicycle pedals. Kendra had once ridden in one at
a park with a lake.
On one wall hung several oars of varying length. Near
the door were a crank and a lever. Kendra tried to turn the
crank, but it would not move. She pulled the lever.
Nothing happened. She tried the crank again, and this
time it turned. A sliding door on the opposite side of the
boathouse from the dock began to open, letting in more
light. Kendra kept cranking, relieved that she would be
able to paddle a boat directly out of the boathouse onto the
pond.
Standing in the gloom of the boathouse, staring out the
open door at the pond, Kendra began to doubt. She felt
nauseated with fear. Was she really prepared to go to her
death? To have naiads drown her, or to fall victim to a spell
protecting a forbidden island?
Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson were resourceful.
They might have already escaped. Was she doing this for
nothing?
Kendra remembered an occasion three years ago at a
community pool. She had desperately wanted to jump off
the high dive. Her mom had warned her that it was higher
than it looked, but nothing could dissuade her. Many kids
were jumping off it, several her age or younger.
She stood in line at the base of the ladder. When her
turn came, she started climbing, amazed at how much
higher she seemed with each step. When she arrived at the
top, she felt like she was standing on a skyscraper. She
wanted to turn back, but all the kids in line would know
she was scared. Plus her parents were watching.
She walked forward along the diving board. There was
a slight breeze. She wondered if the people on the ground
could feel it. When she approached the end of the board,
she stared down at the rippling water. She could see all the
way to the bottom of the pool. Jumping no longer seemed
like a fun thing to do.
Realizing that the longer she hesitated, the more attention
she would draw, she turned around quickly and
descended the ladder, trying to avoid eye contact with the
people waiting in line at the bottom. She had not been up
a high dive since. In fact, she rarely took any sort of risk.
Once again she was standing on the brink of something
frightening. But this was different. Jumping off a high dive,
or riding a roller coaster with multiple loops, or passing a
note to Scott Thomas-those were all voluntary thrills.
There was no real consequence to avoiding the risk. In her
current situation, her family would probably die if she failed
to act. She had to stand by her previous decision and carry
out her plan, regardless of the consequences.
Kendra considered the oars. She had never rowed a
boat and could easily picture herself floundering, especially
if nasty naiads were giving her a hard time. She examined
the paddleboat. Designed for a single passenger, it was
wider than it needed to be, presumably for additional stability.
The childish craft was not nearly as big as the rowboats,
and she would be close to the water, but at least
Kendra thought she could maneuver it.
Kendra sighed. Kneeling, she untied the little boat,
tossing the slender rope onto the seat. The paddleboat
wobbled when she stepped aboard, and she had to crouch
and use her hands to avoid falling into the water. The bottom
of the novelty craft was completely closed, which
meant nothing could grab at her feet.
After getting situated, Kendra sat facing the dock.
There was a steering wheel to control lateral movement.
Turning the wheel all the way to one side, she pedaled
backwards and slid away from the dock. Cranking the
wheel the other way, she started pedaling forward, and the
boat quietly slid out of the boathouse.
Ripples radiated out from the front of the paddleboat
as she steered it toward the island, pedaling briskly. The
island was not far-maybe eighty yards. The paddleboat
moved steadily closer to her destination. Until it started
moving away from the island.
She pedaled harder, but the boat kept sliding diagonally
backward. Something was towing her. The boat began to
spin. Turning the wheel and paddling did nothing. Then
the boat suddenly tilted precariously to one side. Something
was trying to tip her!
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 th
e 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.
The words were not audible, but they struck her mind
with such a forceful impression that Kendra gasped. She
had never experienced anything similar. Clear fluid continued
to leak from the statue into the bowl.
From tears, milk, and blood, devise an elixir, andmy handmaidens
will attend you.
The tears were obvious. All Kendra could picture was
Viola for the milk. Whose blood? Her own? The cow’s? The
handmaidens had to be the fairies.
Wait, what do I do? Kendra asked. How do I get off
the island?
In reply, the wind swirled for a moment, and then
longer wept. The indefinable presence had departed.
Kendra picked up the bowl. About the size of her palm,
it was nearly a third of the way full. She had hoped the
Fairy Queen would resolve the situation for her. Instead she
had apparently shown her a way to resolve the problem
herself. The telepathic message felt as precise as spoken
words. Her family was still in danger, but the spark of hope
was now a flame.
How would she get off the island? Rising, Kendra
walked to the shore. Unbelievably, the paddleboat was
drifting in her direction. It steadily approached until reaching
the island.
Kendra stepped inside the boat. It pulled away from the
shore spontaneously, turned around, and started toward the
little white pier.
Kendra said nothing. She did not paddle. She was
afraid to do anything that might disrupt the effortless
progress to the pier. She held the bowl in her lap, careful
not to spill a drop.
Then she saw it, a dark figure standing on the pier,
awaiting her return. A puppet the size of a man. Mendigo.
Her throat constricted with fear. She had worked magic
on the island! Getting the tears from the statue-that was
magic, right? Her protected status was finished. And
Mendigo had come to apprehend her.
Can you drop me off someplace else? she asked.
The boat moved steadily forward. What could she do?
Even if they dropped her off elsewhere, Mendigo would just
follow.
The boat was twenty
yards from the pier, then ten. She
had to protect the contents of her bowl. And she could not
let Mendigo haul her away. But how could she stop him?
The paddleboat brushed up against the pier, coming to
a stop alongside it. Mendigo made no move to grab her. He
seemed to be waiting for her to disembark. Kendra set the
bowl on the pier and stood up, noticing that the boat was
being held steady.
When she stepped onto the pier, Mendigo moved forward,
but as before, he could not seem to grab her. He
stood with both arms half-raised, fingers fluttering. Kendra
picked up the bowl and walked around the limberjack.
Mendigo followed her along the length of the pier.
Why would Muriel have sent Mendigo after her if he
could not seize her? Did Muriel know she had communed
with the Fairy Queen? If so, the puppet sure moved quickly.
His being there was probably precautionary.
The problem it posed was severe. Evidently Kendra had
not actually worked magic on the island; she had merely
collected an ingredient. But in concocting the elixir the
Fairy Queen described and giving it to the fairies, she
would certainly be performing magic. The moment her
protected status ended, Mendigo would be on her.
That was not an option.
Kendra set the silver bowl on the steps leading up to
the gazebo. Then she turned and confronted Mendigo. The
puppet was more than half a head taller than her. I think
you work like Hugo. You have no brain and just do what
you’re told. Is that right, Mendigo?
The limberjack stood still. Kendra tried not to get
creeped out. I have a feeling you won’t obey me, but it’s
worth a try. Mendigo, go climb a tree and sit up there forever.
Mendigo stood motionless. Kendra walked straight at
him. He was trying to lift his arms to grab her, but was
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