by Brandon Mull
dazzling fairy with wings like shimmering veils of gold.
Three gleaming feathers streamed beneath her, elegant ribbons
of light. She hung gloriously in the center of the room
with a regal air.
A jinn harp? Grandpa said in astonishment.
Favor us with a song, I beg you, Maddox said. He
repeated the solicitation in another language.
The fairy gleamed even brighter, shedding sparks. The
music that followed was mesmerizing. The voice made
Kendra imagine a multitude of vibrating crystals. The
wordless song had the power of an operatic aria mingled
with the sweetness of a lullaby. It was longing, beckoning,
hopeful, and heartbreaking.
They all sat transfixed until the song ended. When it
was over, Kendra wanted to applaud, but the moment felt
too sacred.
Truly you are magnificent, Maddox said, repeating
the compliment again in a foreign tongue. Chinese? He
tapped the side of her case, and with a radiant flourish the
fairy was gone.
The room felt dim and bleak in her absence. Kendra
tried to blink away the splotchy afterimages.
How did you make such a find? Grandpa asked in
wonder.
I caught wind of some local legends near the
Mongolian border. Cost me nearly two months of brutal
living to track her down.
The only other known jinn harp has her own shrine
in a Tibetan sanctuary, Grandpa explained. She was
thought to be unique. Fairy connoisseurs travel from all
corners of the globe to behold her.
I can see why, Kendra said.
What a singular treat, Maddox! Thank you for bringing
her into our home.
I’m touring her around the circuit before I take offers,
Maddox said.
I don’t mean to pretend I can afford her, but send me
word when she becomes available. Standing up, Grandpa
looked at the clock and clapped his hands together. Looks
like it’s about time for everyone under the age of thirty to
head off to bed.
But it’s still early! Seth said.
No grousing. I have negotiations to conduct with
Maddox tonight. We can’t have young people underfoot.
You’ll need to stay in your room, no matter what commotion
you hear downstairs. Our, ah, negotiations can be a bit
spirited. Understood?
Yes, Kendra said.
I want to negotiate, Seth said.
Grandpa shook his head. It’s a dull business. You kids
have a good sleep.
No matter what you might think you hear, Maddox
said as Kendra and Seth departed the study, we aren’t having
fun.
Prisoner in a Jar
The floorboards creaked gently as Kendra and Seth tiptoed
down the stairs. Early morning light filtered
through closed blinds and drawn curtains. The house was
still. The opposite of last night.
Beneath their covers in the dark attic the night before,
Kendra and Seth had found sleeping impossible as they listened
to howling laughter, shattering glass, twittering
flutes, slamming doors, and the constant din of shouted
conversations. When they opened the door to sneak down
and spy on the festivities, Lena was always seated at the
foot of the attic stairs, reading a book.
Go back to bed, she said each time they attempted a
reconnaissance mission. Your grandfather is still negotiating.
Eventually Kendra fell asleep. She believed it was the
silence that had finally awakened her in the morning.
When she rolled out of bed, Seth arose as well. Now they
were creeping down the stairs in hopes of glimpsing the
aftermath of the night’s revelry.
The brass coat rack had toppled in the entry hall, surrounded
by hooked triangles of broken glass. A painting lay
facedown on the floor, frame cracked. A primitive symbol
was scrawled on the wall in orange chalk.
They passed quietly into the living room. Tables and
chairs had been overturned. Lampshades hung crooked and
torn. Empty glasses, bottles, and plates lay scattered about,
several of them cracked or broken. A ceramic pot lay in
pieces around a pile of soil and the remnants of a plant.
Food stains appeared at every turn-melted cheese caked
into the carpeting, tomato sauce drying on the arm of a
love seat, a squashed eclair oozing custard all over an
ottoman.
Grandpa Sorenson was snoring on the couch, using a
curtain for a blanket. The curtain rod was still attached. He
clutched a wooden scepter like a teddy bear. The strange
staff was carved with vines twisting around the shaft and
topped by a large pinecone. Despite all the commotion
they had heard the night before, Grandpa was the only sign
of life.
Seth roamed off toward the study. Kendra was about to
follow when she noticed an envelope on a table near her
grandfather. A thick seal of crimson wax had been broken,
and part of a folded paper protruded invitingly.
Kendra glanced at Grandpa Sorenson. He was facing
away from the letter, and showed no sign of stirring.
If he didn’t want a letter read, he shouldn’t leave it out
in the open, right? It wasn’t as if she were stealing it
unopened from his mailbox. And she had several unanswered
questions about Fablehaven, not the least of which
concerned what was actually going on with her grandma.
Kendra eased over to the table, a queasy feeling in her
stomach. Maybe she should have Seth read it. Invading privacy
wasn’t really her forte.
But it would be so simple. The letter was right in front
of her, conveniently sticking out of the open envelope.
Nobody would know. She tipped the envelope up and
found there was no address or return address. The envelope
was blank. Hand-delivered. Had Maddox brought it?
Probably.
After a final glance to ensure Grandpa still looked
comatose, Kendra slid the cream-colored paper out of the
envelope and unfolded it. The message was written in bold
script.
Stanley,
I trust this missive finds you in good health.
It has come to our attention that the SES has
been exhibiting unusual activity in the northeast of
the United States. We remain uncertain whether
they have pinpointed the location of Fablehaven, but
one unconfirmed report suggests they are in communication
with an individual(s) on your preserve.
Mounting evidence implies the secret is out.
I need not remind you about the attempted infiltration
of a certain preserve in the interior of Brazil
last year. Nor the significance of that preserve in connection
with the significance of yours.
As you well know, we have not detected such
aggressive activity from the SES in decades. We are
preparing to reassign additional resources to your
vicinity. As always, secrecy and misdirection remain
top priorities. Be vigilant.
I continue to search diligently for a
resolution to
the situation with Ruth. Do not lose hope.
With everlasting fidelity,
S
Kendra reread the letter. Ruth was her grandma’s name.
What situation? SES had to be the Society of the Evening
Star. What did the S at the end of the letter stand
for? The entire message seemed a bit vague, probably
deliberately.
Look at this, Seth whispered from the kitchen.
Kendra jumped, every muscle in her body tensing.
Grandpa smacked his lips and shifted on the couch. Kendra
stood temporarily immobilized by guilty panic. Seth was
not looking at her. He was stooping over something in the
kitchen. Grandpa became still again.
Kendra folded the letter and slipped it back into the
envelope, trying to situate it as she had found it. Moving
stealthily, she joined Seth, who crouched over muddy
hoofprints.
Were they riding horses in here? he asked.
It would explain the racket, she murmured, trying to
sound casual.
Lena appeared in the doorway, dressed in a bathrobe,
hair awry. Look at you early risers, she said softly. You
caught us before cleanup.
Kendra stared at Lena, trying to keep her expression
unreadable. The housekeeper showed no indication of having
seen her spying at the letter.
Seth pointed at the hoofprints. What the heck happened?
The negotiations went well.
Is Maddox still here? Seth asked hopefully.
Lena shook her head. He left in a taxi about an hour
ago.
Grandpa Sorenson shuffled into the kitchen wearing
boxers, socks, and an undershirt stained with brown mustard.
He squinted at them. What are you all doing up at
this ungodly hour?
It’s after seven, Seth said.
Grandpa covered a yawn with his fist. He held the
envelope in his other hand. I’m feeling a little under the
weather today-might go lie down for a spell. As you
were. He shambled off, scratching his thigh.
You kids may want to play outside this morning, Lena
said. Your grandfather was up until forty minutes ago. He
had a long night.
I’m going to have a tough time taking Grandpa seriously
when he tells us to show respect for the furniture,
Kendra said. It looks like he drove a tractor through here.
Pulled by horses! Seth added.
Maddox enjoys a celebration, and your grandfather is
an accommodating host, Lena said. Without your grandmother
here to rein in the merriment, things got a little too
festive. Didn’t help that they invited the satyrs. She nodded
at the muddy hoofprints.
Satyrs? Kendra asked. Like goatmen?
Lena nodded. Some would say they liven up a party
too much.
Those are goat prints? Seth asked.
Satyr prints, yes.
I wish I could have seen them, Seth mourned.
Your parents would be glad you didn’t. Satyrs would
only teach you bad manners. I think they invented them.
I’m sad we missed the party, Kendra said.
Don’t be. It was not a party for young people. As caretaker,
your grandfather would never drink, but I can’t
vouch for the satyrs. We’ll have a proper party before you
leave us.
Will you invite satyrs? Seth asked.
We’ll see what your grandfather says, Lena said
doubtfully. Maybe one. Lena opened the refrigerator and
poured two glasses of milk. Drink your milk and then run
along. I have some heavy cleaning ahead of me.
Kendra and Seth took their glasses. Lena opened the
pantry, removing a broom and dustpan, and left the room.
Kendra drank her milk in several deep swallows and set her
empty glass on the counter. Want to go for a swim? she
asked.
I’ll catch up, Seth said. He still had milk in his cup.
Kendra walked away.
After finishing his milk, Seth peeked into the pantry.
So many shelves packed with so much food! One shelf featured
nothing but large jars of homemade preserves. Closer
investigation revealed that the jars were lined up three
deep.
Seth backed out of the pantry and looked around.
Reentering the pantry, he removed a large jar of boysenberry
preserves, pulling another jar forward from the
second row to disguise the absence. They might miss a half-empty
jar from the fridge. But one of many unopened jars
from an overstuffed pantry? Not likely.
He could be sneakier than Kendra knew.
The fairy balanced on a twig protruding from a low
hedge beside the pool. Arms extended to either side, she
walked along the tiny limb, adjusting as it wobbled. The
further out she got, the less stable she became. The miniature
beauty queen had platinum hair, a silver dress, and
glittering, translucent wings.
Seth sprang forward, slashing downward with the pool
skimmer. The blue mesh struck the twig, but the fairy
darted away at the last instant. She hovered, shaking a
scolding finger at Seth. He swung the skimmer again, and
the nimble fairy evaded capture a second time, soaring well
out of range.
You shouldn’t do that, Kendra said from the pool.
Why not? Maddox catches them.
Out in the wild, Kendra corrected. These already
belong to Grandpa. It’s like hunting lions at the zoo.
Maybe hunting lions at the zoo would be good practice.
You’re going to end up making the fairies mad at you.
They don’t mind, he said, creeping up on a fairy with
wide, gauzy wings fluttering inches above a flowerbed.
They just fly away. He slowly moved the pool skimmer
into position. The fairy was directly beneath the mesh, less
than two feet away from captivity. With a flick of his wrists,
he slapped the skimmer down sharply. The fairy dodged
around it and glided off.
What are you going to do if you catch one?
Probably let it go.
So what’s the point?
To see if I can do it.
Kendra boosted herself out of the water. Well,
obviously you can’t. They’re too fast. Dripping, she walked
over to her towel. Oh my gosh, look at that one. She
pointed at the base of a blossoming bush.
Where?
Right there. Wait until she moves. She’s practically
invisible.
He stared at the bush, unsure whether she was teasing
him. A bobbing distortion began warping the leaves and
blossoms. Whoa!
See! She’s clear like glass.
Seth edged forward, clutching the pool skimmer.
Seth, don’t.
Suddenly he charged, opting for a rapid assault this
time. The transparent fairy flew away, vanishing against the
sky. Why won’t they hold still!
They’re magic, Kendra said. The fun is just looking
at them, seeing all the variety.
Real fun. Kind of like when Mom makes us go on
drives to look at the leaves changing color.
I want to grab some breakfast. I’m starving.
Then go. Mayb
e I’ll have better luck without you
squawking.
Kendra walked to the house wrapped in her towel. She
entered the back door and found Lena dragging a broken
coffee table into the kitchen. Much of the surface of the
table had been made of glass. Most of it was broken.
Need a hand? Kendra asked.
Mine are plenty.
Kendra went and grabbed the other end of the table.
They set it in a corner of the spacious kitchen. Other broken
objects rested there as well, including the jagged fragments
of the ceramic pot Kendra had noticed earlier.
Why pile everything here?
This is where the brownies come.
Brownies?
Come look. Lena led Kendra to the basement door,
pointing out a second little door at the base, about the size
a cat would use. The brownies have a special hatch that
admits them to the basement, and they can use this door
to enter the kitchen. They are the only magical creatures
with permission to enter the house at will. The brownie
portals are guarded by magic against all other creatures of
the forest.
Why let them in?
Brownies are useful. They repair things. They make
things. They are remarkable craftsmen.
They’ll fix the broken furniture?
Improve it if they can.
Why?
It is their nature. They will accept no reward.
How nice of them, Kendra said.
In fact, tonight, remind me to leave out some cooking
ingredients. By morning, they will have baked us a treat.
What will they cook?
You never know. You don’t make requests. You just
leave out ingredients and see how they combine them.
How fun!
I’ll leave out a bunch. No matter what strange combinations
you leave, they always invent something delicious.
There is so much I don’t know about Fablehaven,
Kendra declared. How big is it?
The preserve stretches for many miles in some directions.
Much bigger than you would suppose.
And there are creatures throughout?
Through most of it, Lena said. But as your grandfather
has warned you, some of those creatures can be
deadly. There are many places on the property where even
he does not dare venture.
I want to know more. All the details.
Be patient. Let it unfold. She turned to the refrigerator
and changed the subject. You must be hungry.
A little.
I’ll whip up some eggs. Will Seth want some?
Probably, Kendra said, leaning against the counter.
I’ve been wondering: Is everything from mythology true?