by Brandon Mull
Page 6
No tree house? No toys or hobbies?
We had things to do.
Then why did you two go into the woods? I warned you there would be consequences.
Why are you hiding weird old ladies out in the forest?
Seth blurted.
Weird old ladies? Grandpa asked.
Yeah, what about that?
Grandpa nodded thoughtfully. She has a rotten old rope. You didn't blow on it?
I didn't go near her. She was freaky.
She came to me and asked if she could build a shack on my property. She promised to keep to herself. I saw no harm in it. You shouldn't go bothering her.
Seth found your private retreat, Kendra said. He wanted me to see it. My curiosity got the better of me.
Private retreat?
Big pond? Fancy boardwalk? Parrots and swans and peacocks?
Grandpa looked at Dale, speechless. Dale shrugged.
I was hoping you'd take us out on a boat, Kendra said.
Who said anything about a boat?
Kendra rolled her eyes. I saw the boathouse, Grandpa.
He tossed his hands up and shook his head.
Kendra set her fork down. Why would you let such a nice place go to waste?
That is my business, Grandpa said. Yours was to obey my rules, for your own protection.
We're not afraid of ticks, Seth said.
Grandpa folded his hands and lowered his eyes. I was not entirely honest about why you needed to stay out of the woods. He lifted his gaze. On my land, I provide refuge for some dangerous animals, many of them endangered.
This includes poisonous snakes, toads, spiders, and scorpions, along with bigger game. Wolves, apes, panthers. I use chemicals and other controls to keep them away from the yard, but the woods are extremely hazardous. Particularly the island in the center of the lake. It is deliberately infested with inland taipans, also called 'fierce snakes,' the deadliest serpent known to man.
Why didn't you warn us? Kendra asked.
My preserve is a secret. I have all the necessary licenses, but if my neighbors complained, those could be revoked. You must not tell a soul, not even your parents.
We saw a white frog, Seth said breathlessly. Was that poisonous?
Grandpa nodded. Quite lethal. In Central America the indigenous people use them to fashion poisoned darts.
Seth tried to catch it.
Had he succeeded, Grandpa said gravely, he would be dead.
Seth swallowed. I'll never go into the woods again.
I trust you won't, Grandpa said. All the same, a rule is of no value unless the punishment is enforced. You will have to stay in your room for the rest of your stay.
What? Seth said. But you lied to us! Being afraid of ticks is a lame reason to stay out of the woods! I just thought you were treating us like babies.
You should have brought those concerns to me, Grandpa said. Was I unclear about the rules or the consequences?
You were unclear about the reasons, Seth said.
That is my right. I am your grandfather. And this is my property.
I am your grandson. You should tell me the truth.
You're not setting a very good example.
Kendra tried not to laugh. Seth was in lawyer mode. He always tried to maneuver out of trouble with their parents.
Sometimes he made some pretty good points.
What do you think, Kendra? Grandpa asked.
She had not expected him to solicit her opinion. She tried to collect her thoughts. Well, I agree that you didn't tell us the whole truth. No way would I have gone into the woods if I knew there would be dangerous animals.
Me neither, Seth said.
I made two simple rules, you understood them, and you broke them. Just because I chose not to share all my reasons for making the rules, you think you should escape punishment?
Yes, Seth said. Just this once.
That doesn't sound fair to me, Grandpa said. Unless the punishments are enforced, rules lose all their power.
But we won't do it again, Seth said. We promise.
Don't lock us up in the house for two weeks!
Don't blame me, Grandpa said. You locked yourself up by disregarding the rules. Kendra, what do you think would be fair?
Maybe you could give us a reduced punishment as a warning. Then the full punishment if we mess up again.
Reduced punishment, Grandpa mused. So you still pay a price for your disobedience, but you get one more chance. I might be able to live with that. Seth?
Better than the whole punishment.
That settles it. I will reduce your sentence to a single day. You will spend tomorrow confined to the attic. You can come down for meals, and you can use the bathroom, but that is all. Break any of my rules again, and you will not leave the attic until your parents come for you. For your own safety. Understood?
Yes, sir, Kendra said.
Seth nodded his agreement.
Journal of Secrets Did you ever notice the keyhole on the belly of the unicorn? Seth asked. He was lying on the floor beside the fanciful rocking horse, hands laced behind his head.
Kendra looked up from her painting. She had asked Lena to create a paint-by-numbers to help her endure her incarceration. Kendra had wanted to paint the pavilions around the pond, and Lena had quickly sketched a scene with startling accuracy, as if the housekeeper had the place memorized. Seth declined to have another canvas prepped.
Stuck in the attic or not, he was sick of painting.
Keyhole?
Weren't you looking for keyholes?
Kendra got off her stool and crouched beside her brother. Sure enough, there was a tiny keyhole on the underside of the unicorn. She retrieved her keys from the nightstand drawer. The third key Grandpa Sorenson had given her did the trick. A small hatch swung open. Out fell several rose-shaped chocolates wrapped in gold foil, identical to the one she had found in the miniature armoire.
What are those? Seth asked.
Soap, Kendra said.
Kendra reached up into the hatch and felt around inside the hollow rocking horse. She found a few more rosebud chocolates and a tiny golden key like the one from the armoire. The second key to the locked journal!
They look like candy, Seth said, snatching one of the ten chocolates.
Have one. They're perfumed. You'll smell pretty.
He unwrapped it. Funny color for soap. Smells a lot like chocolate. He popped the whole thing in his mouth.
His eyebrows shot up. Holy cow, this is good!
Since you found the keyhole, how about we split them fifty-fifty. She was a little worried he would eat all of them otherwise.
Sounds fair, he said, grabbing four more.
Kendra placed her five chocolates in the nightstand drawer and retrieved the locked book. As she expected, the second gold key unlocked another clasp. Where could the third one be?
She slapped her forehead. The first two had been hidden inside things the other keys had opened. The other one must be in the jewelry box!
Opening the jewelry box, she rummaged through the compartments of glittering pendants, brooches, and rings.
Sure enough, disguised on a charm bracelet, she found a tiny golden key matching the other two.
Kendra eagerly crossed the room and inserted the key into the final lock on the journal of Secrets. The final clasp unlatched and she opened the book. The first page was blank. So was the second. She thumbed quickly through the pages. The whole book was blank. Just an empty journal.
Was Grandpa Sorenson trying to encourage her to keep a diary?
But the whole game with the keys had been so sneaky.
Maybe there was a trick to this as well. A hidden message.
Disappearing ink or something. What was the trick with disappearing ink? Spray it with lemon juice and hold it up to a light? Something like t
hat. And there was another trick where you rubbed gently with a pencil and a message appeared. Or maybe something even more devious.
Kendra surveyed the journal more carefully, hunting for clues. She held a few pages up against the window to see if the light would betray hidden watermarks or other mysterious evidence.
What are you doing? Seth asked. He had only one chocolate rosebud left. She would need to hide her chocolates someplace more secure than the nightstand drawer.
She held up a final page. The light revealed nothing.
Practicing for my audition at the insane asylum.
I bet you'll win first prize, he teased.
Unless they see your face, she retorted.
Seth went over and scooped some kernels for Goldilocks. She laid another egg. He opened the cage to retrieve it and stroked her soft feathers.
Kendra plopped down on the bed, leafing through the last pages. Suddenly she stopped. There was writing on one of the final pages. Not really hidden, just tucked away in an unlikely spot. Three words written near the binding, toward the bottom of an otherwise empty page.
Drink the milk.
Folding the corner, she flipped through the remaining pages. Then she skimmed the rest of the pages from the start to make sure she had missed no similar messages.
There were no other cryptic clues.
Drink the milk.
Maybe soaking a page in milk would make words appear. She could soak one in the tins of milk Dale left out.
Or that could be the milk the message was talking about! A challenge to drink unprocessed cow's milk-what purpose could that serve? To give her diarrhea? Dale had made a special point of warning her not to drink the milk.
Of course, he had acted sort of peculiar about it. He could be hiding something.
Drink the milk.
All the hassle of finding holes for the keys Grandpa Sorenson gave her, in order to uncover extra keys that fit a locked journal, for that odd message? Was she missing something, or overanalyzing? The hunt might have simply been meant to occupy her time.
Do you think Mom and Dad would let us get a pet chicken? Seth asked, holding the hen.
Probably right after they get us a pet buffalo.
Why don't you ever hold Goldilocks? She's really good.
Holding a live chicken sounds disgusting.
Better than holding a dead one.
I'm fine just petting her.
You're missing out. Seth held the hen up to his face.
You're a good chicken, aren't you, Goldilocks? The hen clucked softly.
She's going to peck your eyes out, Kendra warned.
No way, she's tame.
Popping one of the rosebud chocolates in her mouth, Kendra replaced the Journal of Secrets in the nightstand drawer and returned to her painting. She scowled. Between the gazebos, pond, and swans, the picture required more than thirty shades of white, gray, and silver. Using the sample hues Lena had given her, she prepared her next color.
The sun was bright the next day. There was no evidence that it had ever rained or that it would ever rain again. Hummingbirds, butterflies, and bumblebees had returned to the yard. Lena gardened in the back beneath a large sun hat.
Kendra sat in the shade on the back porch. No longer a prisoner in the attic, she felt better able to enjoy the fine weather. She wondered if the diverse butterflies she saw in the yard were among the species Grandpa Sorenson had imported. How did you keep a butterfly from leaving your property? The milk, perhaps?
She passed the time with a game she had found on a shelf in the attic-a triangular board with fifteen holes and fourteen pegs. The object was to jump pegs like checkers until you had only one left, which sounded simple at first.
The problem was that in the process of jumping, certain pegs ended up stranded, unable to jump or be jumped. The number of pegs you left stranded on the board determined your score.
Her best effort so far was three, which the directions labeled typical. Leaving two was good. One was genius.
Five or more labeled you hopeless.
While resetting the pegs for a fresh attempt, Kendra saw what she had been waiting for. Dale was walking along the perimeter of the yard with a pie tin. Setting the peg game on a table, she hurried to intercept him.
Dale looked mildly distressed at her approach. I can't let Lena see you talking to me like this, he murmured in low tones. I'm supposed to put the milk out on the sly.
I thought nobody knew you put the milk out.
Right. See, your grandfather doesn't know, but Lena does. We try to keep it our secret.
I was wondering what the milk tastes like.
He looked nervous. Didn't you hear me last time? You could get. . . shingles. Scabies. Scurvy.
Scurvy?
This milk is a bacterial stew. That's why the insects like it so well.
I have friends who have tried milk fresh from the cow.
They survived.
I'm sure those were healthy cows, Dale said. These cows are. . . never you mind. Idea is, this ain't just any milk. It's highly contaminated. I wash my hands good after even handling the stuff.
So you don't think I should taste it.
Not unless you're aiming for a premature burial.
Would you at least take me in the barn to see the cows?
See the cows? That would be breaking your grandfather's rules!
I thought the point was we might get hurt, Kendra said. I'll be fine if you're with me.
Chapter Six
Your grandfather's rules are your grandfather's rules.
He has his reasons. I'm not about to go breaking them. Or bending them either.
No? Maybe if you let me see the cows, I'll keep your secret about putting out the milk.
Now see, that's blackmail. I'll not stand for blackmail.
I wonder what Grandpa will say when I tell him at dinner tonight.
He'll likely say you ought to mind your own affairs.
Now, with your leave, I have chores to do.
She watched him walk away with the tin of milk. He surely had acted defensive and strange. There was definitely some mystery surrounding the milk. But all the talk about bacteria made her reluctant to try it. She needed a guinea pig.
Seth tried a flip off the boulder into the pool, but landed on his back. He never could quite make it all the way around. He surfaced and stroked to the side to try again.
Nice back-flop, Kendra said, standing beside the pool. That was one for the blooper reel.
Seth climbed out of the water. I'd like to see you do a better one. Where have you been?
I found out a secret.