Grip of the Shadow Plague (Page 81)

"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."

Patton picked at a frayed gap where his sleeve had torn near the elbow. "I do not fully comprehend what it means to be fairykind, but I am well informed about the shrine. Are you certain returning a bowl will be sufficient excuse to tread on forbidden soil? Before you, Kendra, none have set foot on that island and lived."

"A fairy named Shiara suggested I could," Kendra said. "In a way I can’t explain, it feels true. Normally I can’t think of returning to the island without a feeling of dread. My instincts agree with what the fairy told me. The bowl belongs there. Replacing it should allow me access."

"Shiara?" Patton said. "I know Shiara-silver wings, blue hair. I consider her the most reliable fairy at Fablehaven. She used to have a close friendship with Ephira. After I was fairystruck and Ephira vanished, Shiara became my closest confidante in matters pertaining to the fairy world. If I were ever to heed advice from a fairy, it would be hers."

"You can talk to fairies too?" Seth asked.

"One of the advantages of being fairy struck," Patton said. "Their language, Silvian, is otherwise quite difficult to master, although some have learned it through study. I can also read and speak their secret language. So can Kendra. That was how she deciphered the inscription I left in the vault at Lost Mesa."

"That was in a secret fairy language?" Kendra asked. "I can never tell what language I’m hearing or speaking or reading. Everything seems like English."

"It takes time," Patton said. "When a fairy speaks, you hear English, but with practice you can also perceive the actual language the fairy is using. At first, the different languages are difficult to distinguish, probably because the translation is so effortless. With some effort, you will grow more conscious of the words you hear and say."

"Why did you leave a message in the vault in the first place?" Kendra wondered.

"The unteachable fairy tongue is a well-kept secret," Patton said. "The language is inherently incomprehensible to all creatures of darkness. I felt I needed to leave a clue regarding what I had done in order to prevent a panic if the Knights found the artifact missing, so I inscribed a message in an arcane language that only a friend of light would be able to comprehend."

"Since you trust Shiara, are you okay with me going to the island?" Kendra asked. "In this matter, you know better than I do," Patton admitted. "Under less dire circumstances, I would implore you not to undertake such a risky venture. But this predicament is calamitous. Do I believe the Fairy Queen will be able to help us resist the plague? Hard to say, but she helped you once before, and some hope is better than none."

"Then I’m going to try it," Kendra said firmly.

"When you have to jump, you jump," Seth agreed.

"Crossing the pond will be dangerous," Lena cautioned. "The naiads are riled. They’ll want the bowl back. They’ll want vengeance for my departure. Patton had better ferry you across."

"I would have it no other way," Patton said. "I have some experience navigating those hazards." He winked at Lena.

The former naiad raised her eyebrows. "And getting dragged into the pond by those hazards, if memory serves."

"You’re sounding more and more like the Lena I know," Patton said with a grin.

"As soon as the sun goes down, I’ll watch for Grandpa and Grandma," Seth said. "They’ll probably drop by as shadows. Maybe they can still help us."

"In the meantime, should we go to the pond?" Kendra asked.

"We ought to strike while daylight persists," Patton said.

Seth stowed the Chronometer in a backpack that had formerly held camping gear. He hooked his arms through the straps, and they exited the tent together. Curious satyrs, dwarfs, and dryads had congregated outside. They began eagerly whispering to one another and gesturing at Patton.

Doren trotted up to Patton. "Show me the hold you put on Broadhoof!"

"To prevent an epidemic of crippled satyrs, I had best refrain," Patton said. He held up both hands, raising his voice. "I have only returned for a short while. I journeyed forward through time, and mean to reverse this plague before I depart." Several of the bystanders applauded and whistled. "I hope I can rely on your assistance as needed."

"Anything for you, Patton!" a hamadryad cried in a breathy tone that earned a glare from Lena.

"We will want some privacy at the pond as we approach the shrine," Patton said. "Your cooperation will be appreciated."

Patton escorted Kendra toward the nearest gazebo. She felt tense as Patton led her up the steps and along the boardwalk. The last time she had crossed the pond to the island was among her scariest memories. The naiads had fought hard to capsize her little paddleboat. At least this time the sun was out, and she would not be alone.

Patton strode down the steps to the pier beside the boathouse. He walked over to the floating shed and smashed open the locked door with a single, measured kick.

"Patton is entering the boathouse!" shouted an exultant voice from below the water.

"We’ll have his bones in our collection after all!" raved a second naiad.

"Look who’s with him!" the first voice gasped.

"The viviblix who raised him from the grave!" a new voice mocked.

"Beware her zombie magic," sang the second naiad.