Fablehaven1-Fablehaven

by Brandon Mull

  Explain what you mean.

  I’ve seen fairies, and evidence of satyrs. Is it all real?

  No mythology or religion that I know of holds all the

  answers. Most religions are based on truths, but they are

  also polluted by the philosophies and imaginations of men.

  I take it your question refers to Greek mythology. Is there

  a pantheon of petty gods who constantly bicker and interfere

  in the lives of mortals? I know of no such beings. Are

  there some true elements to those ancient stories and

  beliefs? Obviously. You’re talking to a former naiad.

  Scrambled?

  What?

  The eggs.

  Sure.

  Lena began cracking eggs into a pan. Many of the

  beings who dwell here existed gracefully when primitive

  man foraged in ragged tribes. We taught man the secrets of

  bread and clay and fire. But man became blind to us over

  time. Interaction with mortals became rare. And then

  mankind began to crowd us. Explosions in population and

  technology stole many of our ancient homes. Mankind

  held no particular malice toward us. We had simply faded

  into colorful caricatures inhabiting myths and fables.

  There are quiet corners of the world where our kind

  continue to thrive in the wild. And yet the day will

  inevitably come when the only space remaining to us will be

  these sanctuaries, a precious gift from enlightened mortals.

  It’s so sad, Kendra said.

  Do not frown. My kind do not dwell on these concerns.

  They forget the fences enclosing these preserves. I

  should not speak of what used to be. With my fallen mind,

  I see the changes much more clearly than they do. I feel

  the loss more keenly.

  Grandpa said a night is coming when all the creatures

  here will run wild.

  Midsummer Eve. The festival night.

  What’s it like?

  I’d better not say. I don’t think your grandfather wants

  you kids worrying about it until the time comes. He would

  rather have scheduled your visit to avoid the festival night.

  Kendra tried to sound nonchalant. Will we be in danger?

  Now I’ve got you worried. You will be fine if you follow

  the instructions your grandfather gives you.

  What about the Society of the Evening Star? Maddox

  sounded worried about them.

  The Society of the Evening Star has always been a

  threat, Lena admitted. But these preserves have endured

  for centuries, some for millennia. Fablehaven is well protected,

  and your grandfather is no fool. You needn’t worry

  about speculative rumors. I’ll not say more on the subject.

  Cheese in your eggs?

  Yes, please.

  With Kendra gone, Seth got out the equipment he had

  bundled in his towel, including his emergency kit and the

  jar he had smuggled from the pantry. The jar was now

  empty, washed clean in the bathroom sink. Taking out his

  pocket knife, Seth used the awl to punch holes in the lid.

  Unscrewing the top, he gathered bits of grass, flower

  petals, a twig, and a pebble, and placed them in the

  jar. Then he wandered across the garden from the pool,

  leaving the skimmer behind. If skill failed, he would resort

  to cunning.

  He found a good spot not far from a fountain, then

  took the small mirror from his cereal box and placed it in

  the jar. Setting the jar on a stone bench, he settled in the

  grass nearby, lid in hand.

  It did not take the fairies long. Several flitted around

  the fountain. A few drifted over, lazily orbiting the jar.

  After a couple of minutes, a small one with wings like a bee

  landed on the edge of the jar, staring into it. Apparently

  satisfied, she dropped inside and began admiring herself in

  the mirror. Soon she was joined by another. And another.

  Seth moved slowly closer until he was within reach of

  the jar. All the fairies exited it. He waited. Some flew off.

  New ones came. One entered the jar, followed quickly by

  two more.

  Seth pounced, slapping the lid onto the jar. The fairies

  were so quick! He expected to catch all three, but two

  whizzed out just before the lid covered the opening. The

  remaining fairy pushed against the lid with surprising force.

  He screwed it shut.

  The fairy inside stood no taller than his little finger.

  She had fiery red hair and iridescent dragonfly wings. The

  incensed fairy pounded her tiny fists noiselessly against the

  wall of the jar. All around him, Seth heard the tinkling of

  miniature bells. The other fairies were pointing and laughing.

  The fairy in the jar beat against the glass even harder,

  but to no avail.

  Seth had captured his prize.

  Grandpa dipped the wand into the bottle and raised it

  to his lips. As he blew gently, several bubbles streamed

  from the plastic circle. The bubbles floated across the

  porch.

  You never know what will fascinate them, he said.

  But bubbles usually do the trick.

  Grandpa sat in a large wicker rocker. Kendra, Seth, and

  Dale sat nearby. The setting sun streaked the horizon with

  red and purple.

  I try not to bring unnecessary technology onto the

  property, he continued, dipping the wand again. I just

  can’t resist with bubbles. He blew, and more bubbles took

  shape.

  A fairy, glowing softly in the fading light, approached

  one of the bubbles. After considering it for a moment, she

  touched it, and the bubble turned bright green. Another

  touch and it was an inky blue. Another and it was gold.

  Grandpa kept the bubbles coming, and more fairies

  came to the porch. Soon all the bubbles were changing colors.

  The hues became more luminous as the fairies competed

  against one another. Bubbles ruptured with flashes of

  light.

  One fairy gathered bubbles until she had assembled a

  bouquet that resembled a bunch of multicolored grapes.

  Another fairy entered a bubble and inflated it from the

  inside until it tripled in size and burst with a violet flash. A

  bubble near Kendra appeared to be full of winking fireflies.

  One near Grandpa turned to ice, fell to the porch, and

  shattered.

  The fairies flocked near Grandpa, eager for the next

  bubbles. He kept them coming, and the fairies continued

  to display their creativity. They filled bubbles with shimmering

  mist. They linked them in chains. They transformed

  them into balls of fire. The surface of one reflected

  like a mirror. Another took on the shape of a pyramid.

  Another crackled with electricity.

  When Grandpa put the bubble solution away, the

  fairies gradually dispersed. The dwindling sunset was almost

  gone. A few fairies played among the chimes, making soft

  music. Unbeknownst to most of the family, Grandpa said,

  a few of your cousins have visited me here. None of them

  came close to figuring out what is really going on.

  Didn’t you give them clues? Kendra asked.

  No more or less than I
gave you. They were not of the

  proper mind-set.

  Was it Erin? Seth asked. She’s a goober.

  You be kind, Grandpa scolded. What I want to say

  is that I admire how you children have taken all of this in

  stride. You have adapted impressively to this unusual

  place.

  Lena said we could have a party with goat people,

  Seth said.

  I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. Why was she

  talking about satyrs?

  We found hoofprints in the kitchen, Kendra said.

  Things got a bit out of hand last night, Grandpa

  admitted. Trust me, Seth, consorting with satyrs is the last

  thing a boy your age needs.

  Then why did you do it? Seth asked.

  A visit from a fairy broker is a significant event, and

  carries certain expectations. I’ll concede that the merriment

  borders on foolishness.

  Can I try blowing bubbles? Seth asked.

  Another night. I’m planning a special excursion for

  you tomorrow. In the afternoon I need to visit the granary,

  and I mean to take you with me, let you see more of the

  property.

  Will we get to see something besides fairies? Seth

  asked.

  Probably.

  I’m glad, Kendra said. I want to see everything

  you’re willing to show us.

  All in due time, my dear.

  * * *

  From her breathing, Seth was pretty sure Kendra was

  asleep. He sat up slowly. She did not move. He coughed

  weakly. She did not twitch.

  He eased out of bed and crossed the attic floor to his

  dresser. Quietly he opened the third drawer down. There

  she was. Twig, grass, pebble, flower petals, mirror, and all.

  In the dark room, her inherent glimmer illuminated the

  entire drawer.

  Her tiny hands were splayed against the wall of the jar,

  and she looked up at him desperately. She chirped something

  in a twittering language, motioning for him to open

  the lid.

  Seth glanced over his shoulder. Kendra had not

  budged.

  Goodnight, little fairy, he whispered. Don’t worry.

  I’ll feed you some milk in the morning.

  He began shutting the drawer. The panicked fairy

  redoubled her frantic protestations. It looked like she was

  about to cry, which made Seth pause. Maybe he would let

  her go tomorrow.

  It’s okay, little fairy, he said gently. Go to sleep. I’ll

  see you in the morning.

  She clasped her hands together and shook them in a

  pleading motion, begging with her eyes. She was so pretty,

  that fiery red hair against her creamy skin. The perfect pet.

  Way better than a hen. What chicken could set bubbles on

  fire?

  Closing the drawer, he returned to his bed.

  Retaliation

  Seth wiped sleep from the corner of his eye and stared

  at the ceiling for a moment. Rolling over, he saw that

  Kendra was not in her bed. Daylight streamed through the

  window. He stretched, arching his back with a groan. The

  mattress felt inviting. Maybe he could get up later.

  No, he wanted to check on the fairy. He hoped some

  sleep had calmed her. Kicking off the tangled covers, Seth

  hurried over to the dresser. Pulling it open, he gasped.

  The fairy was gone. In her place was a hairy tarantula

  with striped legs and shiny black eyes. Had it eaten her? He

  checked the lid. It was still on tight. Then it registered that

  he had not consumed any milk yet. This could be the other

  form the fairy appeared in. He would have expected a dragonfly,

  but supposed a tarantula was possible.

  He also noticed that the mirror in the jar was broken.

  Had she smashed it with the pebble? It seemed like a good

  way to cut herself. No roughhousing, he scolded. I’ll be

  right back.

  A round loaf of bread sat on the table, a mottled mixture

  of white, black, brown, and orange. While Lena sliced

  it, Kendra took another sip of hot chocolate.

  Considering all the ingredients I left out, I thought

  they might make a jumble pie, Lena said. But calico

  loaves are equally delicious. Try a piece. She handed

  Kendra a slice.

  They did a great job on the pot, Kendra said. And

  the table looks perfect.

  Better than before, Lena agreed. I like the new

  beveling. Brownies know their business.

  Kendra inspected the slice of bread. The strange coloring

  continued all the way through, not just on the crust.

  She took a bite. Cinnamon and sugar dominated the flavoring.

  Eagerly she took another. It tasted like blackberry

  jam. The next tasted like chocolate with a hint of peanut

  butter. The following bite seemed saturated with vanilla

  pudding. It has so many flavors!

  And they never clash like they should, Lena said,

  taking a bite herself.

  Feet bare, hair sticking up, Seth trotted into the room.

  Good morning, he said. Having breakfast?

  You have to try this calico bread, Kendra said.

  In a minute, he replied. Can I have a cup of hot

  chocolate?

  Lena filled a mug.

  Thank you, he said as she handed it to him. I’ll be

  right back. I forgot something upstairs. He hurried off,

  drinking from the mug.

  He’s so weird, Kendra said, taking a bite of what now

  tasted like banana nut bread.

  Up to some mischief, if you ask me, Lena replied.

  Seth set the mug on the dresser. Taking a calming

  breath, he silently prayed that the tarantula would be gone

  and the fairy would be there. He slid the drawer open.

  A hideous little creature glared up from inside the jar.

  Baring pointy teeth, it hissed at him. Covered in brown,

  leathery skin, it stood taller than his middle finger. It was

  bald, with tattered ears, a narrow chest, a pot belly, and

  shriveled, spindly limbs. The lips were froglike, the eyes a

  glossy black, the nose a pair of slits above the mouth.

  What did you do to the fairy? Seth asked.

  The ugly creature hissed again, turning around. It had a

  pair of nubs above the bony shoulder blades. The nubs wiggled

  like the remnants of amputated wings.

  Oh, no! What happened to you?

  The creature stuck out a long black tongue and slapped

  the glass with calloused hands. It jabbered something in a

  foul, raspy language.

  What had happened? Why had the beautiful fairy

  mutated into a revolting little devil? Maybe some milk

  would help.

  Seth snatched the jar from the drawer, grabbed the mug

  from the dresser, and bolted down the stairs from the attic

  to the hall. He dashed into the bathroom, locking the door

  behind him.

  The mug was still a third full. Holding the jar over the

  sink, he poured some of the hot chocolate onto the lid.

  Most ran down the side of the jar, but a little dripped

  through the holes in the top.

  One drop plopped on the creature’s shoulder. It angrily

  motioned for Seth to unscrew the lid, and then pointed at

  the c
up. Apparently it wanted to drink straight from the

  mug.

  Seth examined the room. The window was shut, the

  door locked. He wadded a towel against the space at the

  bottom of the door. Inside the jar, the creature made pleading

  motions and pantomimed drinking from a cup.

  Seth unscrewed the lid. With a powerful leap, the creature

  jumped out, landing on the counter. Crouching,

  snarling, it glared at Seth.

  I’m sorry your wings fell off, he said. This might

  help.

  He held the mug out toward the creature, wondering if

  it would sip the flavored milk or just climb inside the cup.

  Instead, it snapped at him, barely missing his finger. Seth

  jerked his hand away, sloshing hot chocolate onto the

  counter. Hissing, the agile creature dropped to the floor,

  raced over to the bathtub, and vaulted inside.

  Before Seth could react, the creature squirmed down

  the drain. A final garbled burst of complaints issued from

  the dark hole, and then the creature was gone. Seth poured

  the remnants of the hot chocolate into the drain in case it*

  could be of use to the deformed fairy.

  He looked back at the jar, empty now except for a few

  wilting flower petals. He was not sure what he had done

  wrong, but he doubted Maddox would be very proud.

  Later that morning, Seth sat in the tree house trying to

  find puzzle pieces that fit together. Now that the perimeter

  was finished, adding pieces was a challenge. They all

  looked the same.

  He had avoided Kendra all morning. He did not feel

  like talking to anybody. He could not get over how foul the

  fairy had become. He was not sure what he had done, but

  he knew it was somehow his fault, some accidental consequence

  of catching the fairy. That was why she had been so

  frightened the night before. She knew he had doomed her

  to change into an ugly little monster.

  The puzzle pieces started to vibrate. Soon the whole

  tree house was trembling. Were they having an earthquake?

  He had never been in an earthquake before.

  Seth ran to the window. Fairies hovered everywhere,

  gathered in the air all around the tree house. Their arms

  were raised, and they seemed to be chanting.

  One of the fairies pointed at Seth. Several glided

  closer to the window. One held her palm out in his direction;

  with a flash of light, the windowpane shattered.

  Seth jumped away from the window as several fairies flew

  in.

  He ran to the hatch, but the tree house lurched so violently