Kendra and Seth ran toward the stone, even though they could see that the centaur would obviously beat them to it and that Ephira was blocking their way. Stormbrow lowered an arm and scooped up the pebble. He instantly shrank slightly, and his maroon flesh changed to a healthy, natural color. His horse fur became white dappled with gray.
Stormbrow immediately dropped the flashing stone as if he had picked up a hot ember.
"Stormbrow!" Kendra called, skidding to a stop near Lena. "We need the stone!"
Ephira glided toward the rejuvenated centaur, all her fabric tentacles groping for him. Wincing, he picked up the stone and tossed it a moment before the black tendrils seized him and made him dark again.
He threw the stone much too far. It flew over Kendra and Seth, skipping across the hard ground until it stopped near Coulter. Crawling as if carrying a great weight on his back, Coulter approached the egg-shaped stone. Ephira whirled and raised a palm. Coulter froze momentarily. Sweat beading on his brow, his face contorted with effort, he crawled forward unsteadily. When he could crawl no longer, he slithered on his belly. His arm inched forward until he finally grasped the stone. Trembling, he shifted his grip, cradling the pebble on his forefinger in front of his thumb, as if preparing to shoot it like a marble.
"Here!" Kendra called, waving her arms.
"Seth," Lena hissed, standing immobilized.
Seth took her hand. Freed to move, she ran with him toward the tree, sprinting so swiftly that he could hardly keep his feet on the ground.
With a hard flick of his thumb, Coulter shot the pebble.
The egg-shaped stone rattled across the ground, stopping a few yards short of Kendra. Cold eyes burning, Ephira floated toward the fallen stone. Kendra pounced on the pebble, picked it up, and turned to face the oncoming apparition.
Ephira spread her shadowy wrappings wide and extended her palms at Kendra. Kendra and the stone shone brightly. She felt the fear skimming across the surface of her body, but none of it could truly reach her. The sight of Ephira was horrific, everything Kendra had feared on that first night when she had seen the apparition through the attic window, but all Kendra cared about was getting the pebble to the nail.
Ephira drew closer, arms groping, fingers splayed. She would not use her fabric this time-she wanted direct physical contact.
Kendra felt fingers close around her ankle. Looking down, she saw Patton on his hands and knees, having invisibly crawled to her. His face looked drawn, as if all vitality had been sapped away. He held up a hand, silently offering to take the stone.
"Kendra!" Lena's clear voice called from behind Ephira. "Throw the pebble!"
Kendra could barely make out the former naiad beyond Ephira, glimpsed through rippling swaths of dark fabric, holding hands with Seth. There was no time to make a calm, reasoned choice. A few thoughts flashed through Kendra's mind at once. If Ephira touched her, the spectral woman might destroy the stone, leaving the matter of the nail and Kurisock irresolvable. Patton did not appear to be in any shape to reach the tree again, especially with Ephira in the way. He looked exhausted.
Kendra threw the pebble.
The toss was imperfect, but, lunging, Lena made the catch.
Ephira turned, intent on a new target.
Lena and Seth neared the black tree. As if sensing danger, the tree began to shudder. The branches creaked and swayed. A root lifted as if the tree hoped to run away.
Patton extended a feeble hand toward his wife. "No," he whispered. Kendra had never heard a word sound more forlorn, more defeated.
A few yards from the trunk, Lena shoved Seth away. She met Patton's gaze for a moment, her eyes tender, a half-smile on her lips, and sprang. Landing just shy of the nail, she scrambled forward jerkily, moving like a puppet with half of her strings cut. The trunk of the hideous tree bent slightly.
Branches arched down to block her. Slowly, arduously, Lena's outstretched hand strained toward the trunk until the stone came into contact with the nail.
For an instant, all light and all shadow seemed drawn into those two objects, as if the world had imploded to a single point. And then a shock wave radiated outward, light and dark, hot and cold. The shock wave did not strike Kendra; it passed through her, momentarily stripping away all thought. Every particle of her body vibrated, especially her teeth and bones.
Silence followed.
Dimly, Kendra recovered her senses. Ephira crouched before her, no longer spectral and inhuman, a frightened woman draped in black rags. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she uttered no sound. Her wide eyes blinked twice. Then the remnants of her black robes deteriorated, and her body aged until she dissolved into a cloud of dust and ash.
Beyond where Ephira had perished, the tree lay torn asunder, no longer unnaturally black, but rotten to the center. Near the tree, inert, lay a slimy, shadowy lump of mush. Only when she noticed teeth and claws did Kendra realize it must be what remained of Kurisock. Not far from the tree, Seth was sprawled on his back, stirring slightly. Lena lay facedown and motionless at the base of the trunk.
Behind Kendra, a restored Cloudwing clambered out of the lake of tar, hobbling on his injured leg, his body gooey with steaming sludge. Some distance away, the hobgoblins fled from the restored centaurs and dryads. Seth sat up, rubbing his eyes. Broadhoof remained lifeless where he had fallen.
Patton surged to his feet and staggered a few steps before tumbling to the stony ground. He rose again and fell again. Finally, clothes torn and smudged, he proceeded on hands and knees until he reached Lena, pulling her to him and cradling her in his arms, rocking her limp body as he clung to her, shoulders heaving.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Good-byes
Two days later, Kendra reclined on her back behind a hedge in the yard, overhearing snatches of conversation from fairies. Around her, the garden was in full bloom, more splendid than ever, as if the fairies were attempting to apologize. She had overheard a few fairies lamenting the loss of their darkened state. From what Kendra had observed, only those creatures who had enjoyed being dark retained any memory of the experience.
Kendra heard the back door of the house open. Somebody else was coming to cheer her up. Why couldn't they leave her alone! They had all tried-Grandpa, Grandma, Seth, Warren, Tanu, Dale, even Coulter. Nothing anyone could say was going to erase her guilt for killing Lena. Sure, it had been a desperate situation, and yes, it may have been their best hope for success, but still, if she had not tossed Lena the stone, Lena would not have died.
Nobody called for her. She heard footsteps on the deck.
Why couldn't they treat her like Patton? He had wordlessly made it clear that he required time to grieve, and so nobody pestered him. He had taken Lena's body to the pond, arranged it tenderly inside a rowboat, set the craft ablaze, and watched it burn. That night he had slept under the stars. The next day, after they had discovered that the restored brownies had removed all the traps and repaired the house, Patton had spent most of his time alone in a bedroom. When he chose to mingle with the others, he was subdued. He did not bring up Lena, nor did anyone else.
Kendra was not entirely unhappy. She was immeasurably glad that some dryads had found Grandma, Grandpa, Warren, Dale, and Tanu caged deep in the woods, unharmed, beside an old stump. She was pleased that all the darkened creatures had been restored, that satyrs and dryads once again frolicked in the woods, and that the nipsies were back inside their hollow hill rebuilding their kingdoms. She felt relieved that Ephira was no longer a threat, that the plague had been vanquished, and that Kurisock had met his demise. She found it fitting that the demon should end up as an unrecognizable clump of shadowy pudding.
The cost of victory, along with the part she had played, was what prevented Kendra from actually rejoicing. Not only did she grieve for Lena and Broadhoof, she could not silence certain nagging questions. What if she had jumped off of Broadhoof before he had died, allowing him to be changed to darkness instead of trapping him between light and dark until the struggle killed him? What if she had courageously used the stone to drive Ephira back, and had gone on to destroy the nail herself?
"Kendra," said a slightly hoarse voice.
She sat up. It was Patton. His clothes remained torn, but he had washed them. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
He clasped his hands behind his back. "My three days are almost spent. I'll soon be whisked back to my proper time. I wanted to have words with you first."
That was right! He was leaving soon. Kendra suddenly remembered what she had meant to discuss with him before his departure. "The Sphinx," Kendra said hastily. "You might be able to prevent a lot of trouble, he's probably-"
He held up a finger. "I have already spoken with your grandfather on the subject. Not many minutes ago, in fact. I never did really trust the Sphinx, although if you think he is elusive now, you should try tracking him down in my day. I have met him only once, and it was no minor feat. In my time, many believe the Society of the Evening Star is gone for good. From afar, the Sphinx has been very kind to us caretakers. It would be difficult to find him, and harder still to rally support against him. I'll see what I can do."
Kendra nodded. She stared at the grass, mustering courage. She looked up, tears making her vision shimmer. "Patton, I'm so sorry-"
Again he held up a finger to silence her. "Say no more. You were magnificent."
"But if I-" He wagged his finger. "No, Kendra, you had no other choice."
"And Broadhoof," Kendra muttered.
"None of us could have seen that coming," Patton said. "We were contending with unexplored powers."
"People around me keep dying," Kendra whispered.
"You're thinking about it all backwards," Patton said firmly. "Around you, people who should have died live on. Shadows return to light. You and Lena saved us all. I would rather it had been me, I would give anything, anything, but such wishing is futile."
"Are you okay?"
He exhaled sharply, half-laugh, half-sob. He brushed a finger across his mustache. "I try not to relive how I might have destroyed the nail myself instead of throwing the pebble. I try not to obsess about failing my bride." He paused, muscles pulsing in his jaw. "I must go forward. I have a new errand. A fresh quest. To love Lena for the rest of her life as much as she deserves. To never again doubt her love or mine. To give her my whole self, every day, without fail. To keep secret how her life will end, while forever honoring her sacrifice. I am in a unique position, to have lost her, and yet to have her still."
Kendra nodded, trying to restrain her tears for his sake.
"You'll have a long, happy life together."
"I expect we will," Patton said. Smiling warmly, he reached out a hand to pull her up. "If I am done grieving, it is time for you to quit as well. It was a deadly predicament. We all should have perished. You made the necessary decision."
Others had assured Kendra of that very thing. Only as she heard the words from Patton did she sincerely believe it might be true.
He pulled her to her feet. "Your ride is here."
"My ride?" Kendra asked. "Already?" They walked toward the deck.
"It will be noon before long," Patton said. "I overheard him saying he bears news. I did not let him see me."
"You think I should go home?" Kendra asked.
"Your grandparents are right," he assured her. "It is the best option. You cannot be kept from your parents any longer. You will be under constant watch by concerned friends-at home, at school, wherever you go."
Kendra nodded vaguely. Patton stopped at the steps to the deck. "Won't you come inside?" Kendra urged.
"I'm returning to the pond one last time," Patton said. "I already said my farewells to the others."
"Then this is it."
"Not entirely," Patton said. "I had a private conversation with Vanessa this morning. I temporarily put one of the goblins into the Quiet Box. She is a hard woman-I failed to break her. I believe she has useful information. At some point, if all else fails, you might consider bargaining with her. But do not trust her. I told Stan the same."
"Okay."
"I understand you discovered my Journal of Secrets," Patton said.
"That was yours? Not much in it."
Patton smiled. "Kendra, I'm disappointed. You know, it was your grandfather who wrote 'Drink the Milk,' not me. All of my words in the journal are written in the secret fairy language, in umite wax."
"Umite wax?" Kendra thumped her palm against her forehead. "I never thought to try that. I learned about the wax a year after I stopped paying attention to the journal."
"Well, pay attention to the journal. Not all of my secrets are in there, but you will find some that may prove useful. And I'll be sure to keep adding to it. The troubled times are far from over for you and your family. I'll do what I can from my own era."
"Thanks, Patton." It was comforting to think she would hear from him again through the journal, and to know he might find ways to help her.
"I'm glad we met, Kendra." He gave her a tight hug. "You are truly extraordinary-it goes far beyond anything fairies could bestow. Keep an eye on that brother of yours. If he doesn't get himself killed, he might save the world one day."
"I will. I'm glad we met too. 'Bye, Patton."
He turned and jogged away, glancing back once to wave. Kendra watched him until he disappeared into the woods.
Taking a deep breath, Kendra crossed the deck and entered through the back door. "Happy birthday!" numerous voices shouted.
It took Kendra a moment to make sense of the huge cake with fifteen candles. Her birthday was still more than a month away.