“Nice!” said Fable. “I will treasure that advice forever, Father. What’s a penny?”
“Now you do one,” said Cole.
“Hm. Okay. Never offend a spriggan, young man, for their tempers are short and their grudges are long.”
“That’s good!” said Cole. “You’re right, you do make a good dad. What’s a spriggan?”
“What’s a spriggan? How do you not know what a spriggan is? Jeez, no wonder your mom doesn’t want you to wander around the woods on your own.” They crested the next rise and Fable pointed toward a shimmering pond in a copse of trees just ahead. “Thirsty?” she asked.
Cole followed her. The forest buzzed with life, but the pool was calm and quiet.
“There’s a freshwater spring under the surface,” said Fable. “It comes up here, and then goes back underground again. It surfaces as a little stream down the hill a ways.” She cupped her hands and took a big sip from the pond.
“Is it really okay to drink that water? Isn’t it dirty?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? I know what I’m doing. This is only the cleanest water in the whole forest. Maybe the whole world.”
“There’s a frog swimming in it.”
“What, her? That’s just Kallra. She won’t bother you. She’s a girl sometimes. Besides, frogs swimming in a pond is the best way to know that the water is good. Don’t you know anything?”
“Hold on. Back up. That’s who?”
The bullfrog surfaced and clambered onto a damp rock to regard the children with keen, glistening eyes.
Fable laughed. “Don’t worry. Kallra isn’t mean—even though she never plays with me, not even when she’s being a girl. Whenever I try to go swimming with her, she turns back into a frog and hides, but I think she’s just shy. She shares her spring, though, so that’s nice of her. Hi, Kallra!” Fable waved at the bullfrog, who croaked politely.
“So Kallra is some sort of a nymph?”
“Kinda. Mama calls her a nature spirit. There’s lots of different nature spirits in the Wild Wood.”
Cole stared at the frog. “Um. Hello,” he said.
The bullfrog’s eyes shone brightly. She studied Cole for a few more seconds, and then dove back into the clear water. For just a moment, beyond the reflected image of the treetops bouncing in the ripples, Cole saw a pretty, blue-green face peering up at him intensely from underwater. The figure spun, and then the girl was gone.
“I think she likes you,” said Fable. “Ooh—watch the reflections!”
“The reflections?” said Cole.
“That’s Kallra’s special thing,” Fable explained. “If she wants to, she can show you hints about your future in the reflections in her pool.”
They stared at the pond’s surface as the ripples gradually faded. Cole could see the sky above them, the bright canopy of green leaves, and the dark outlines of the tree trunks. He leaned over the edge for a better look. His own face peered back at him. He glanced toward Fable. She was uncharacteristically focused, her brow crinkled and her lips tight as she watched the surface. Cole turned back to the pool.
His own face in the water had changed. He blinked. The face staring back at him still looked like his—it had the same nose, the same eyes—but it had become somehow harder, older. Cole squinted and leaned his head this way and that. Maybe it was just the soil beneath the surface, but he could have sworn that the shadow of a beard now colored his chin. The man in Cole’s reflection—it was definitely a man now and not a boy—had heavy bags beneath his eyes and wore a ragged gray cloak that Cole had never seen before. Cole raised a hand to touch his cheek, and the man’s hand rose to his own. The man wore a simple silver band on his ring finger. A tingle scurried up Cole’s spine. His chest felt tight.
“D-Dad?” he breathed.
Without warning, the earth shook.
The pond’s surface rippled into a million fractured images of Cole, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. He fell back onto the grass, his head reeling, as if waking abruptly from a dream. “Wh-what’s going on?”
“Earthquake,” Fable said. “They keep happening lately. I don’t know why. It’ll be over soon, though. There we go.”
The tremor eased and stopped. Cole turned back to the pond, but its surface was a mosaic of repeating forests in miniature.
“Did you see him?” Cole asked.
“Him?” said Fable.
Cole bit his lower lip and leaned over the water while the surface slowly cleared again. The scores of images melted into dozens, and then gradually into one. Cole stared at his reflection, holding his breath. Nothing happened. There was no world-weary man staring back at him, just a dusty boy.
“I think it’s over,” said Fable. “Kallra only ever gives you a tiny peek. She actually talks to my mama, sometimes. It’s not fair. What did you see?”
Cole didn’t answer right away. He was still peering into the water. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he found himself looking past his own face into the darkness below it. On the muddy bottom of the pool, two glimmering green eyes stared up at him. The bullfrog spun and vanished into a muddy cloud. Where it had been, a perfectly round rock was visible for just a moment before the silt settled on top of it.
“Come on,” said Fable. “I’ll show you some other stuff.”
“Wait a second,” said Cole. He rolled up his sleeve and reached into the pool. His fingers brushed the loose mud, finding nothing at first, so he leaned in farther. The cold water soaked through his shirt and chilled his chest and shoulders until his hand finally closed around a hard, smooth disc. He pulled it up, shaking the wet dirt and droplets from it.
Fable peered over Cole’s shoulder as he turned the rock around in his hand. It fit easily in his palm, only a little wider and thicker than a silver dollar.
