by Brandon Mull
that he fell to the floor. The shaking was becoming
intense. The floor was no longer level. A chair tipped over.
The door to the hatch had slammed shut. He crawled
toward it. Something hot stung the back of his neck.
Multicolored lights began flashing.
Seth grabbed the door to the hatch, but it would not
open. He tugged hard. Something seared the back of his
hand.
Panicked, he returned to the window, struggling to
keep his balance as the floor quaked beneath him. The
flock of fairies continued to chant. He could hear their
little voices. With a loud crack, the tree house suddenly
tilted sideways. The view out the window switched from
the fairies to the rapidly approaching ground.
Seth experienced a momentary sensation of weightlessness.
Every object in the tree house was floating as everything
plummeted together. Puzzle pieces filled the air. And
then the tree house imploded.
Kendra smeared sunblock across her arms, disliking the
greasy feel of the lotion against her skin. She was tanner
than when she had first arrived, but the sun was hot today,
and she did not want to take any chances.
Her shadow was a small puddle at her feet. It was
almost noon. Lunch was not far off, and then Grandpa
Sorenson would take them to the granary. Kendra quietly
hoped she would see a unicorn.
Suddenly she heard a tremendous crash from the corner
of the yard. Then she heard Seth screaming.
What could have made such a huge noise? She did not
have to run far in order to see the broken pile of rubble at
the base of the tree.
Seth was sprinting toward her. His shirt was torn. He
had blood on his face. Scores of fairies appeared to be in
pursuit. Her initial thought was to make a joke about the
fairies wanting revenge for him trying to catch them, until
she realized it was probably true. Had the fairies thrown
down the tree house?
They’re after me! he yelled.
Jump in the pool! Kendra called.
Seth swerved in the direction of the pool and began
pulling off his shirt. The ominous cloud of fairies had no
trouble keeping up with him. They hurled sparkling
streams of glitter. Casting his shirt aside, Seth sprang into
the water.
The fairies are after Seth! Kendra cried, watching in
horrified dismay.
The fairies hovered over the pool. After a few moments
Seth surfaced. In flawless synchronization, the cloud of
fairies swooped, diving toward him. He yelled as blazing
rays of light began flaring around him, and ducked underwater
again. The fairies plunged in after him.
He came to the surface gasping. The water churned.
Seth floundered at the center of an underwater pyrotechnics
display. Kendra rushed to the edge of the pool.
Help! he cried, raising a hand out of the water. The
fingers were fused together like a flipper.
Kendra screamed. They’re attacking Seth! Help!
Somebody! They’re attacking Seth!
He flailed toward the side of the pool. The roiling mass
of fairies converged on Seth again, hauling him to the bottom
of the pool amid eerie bursts of light. Kendra ran and
seized the pool skimmer, swinging it at the relentless horde
of fairies, never touching any of them no matter how dense
the swarm appeared.
Seth resurfaced at the edge of the pool and threw his
arms up onto the flagstones, trying to drag himself out of
the water. Kendra stooped to assist him but shrieked
instead. One arm was broad, flat, and rubbery. No elbow,
no hand. A flipper coated in human skin. The other was
long and boneless, a fleshy tentacle with limp fingers at the
end.
She looked at his face. Long tusks curved down from a
wide, lipless mouth. Patches of hair were missing. His eyes
were glazed with terror.
The frenzied fairies mobbed him again, and he lost his
grip on the side, vanishing in another pulsing succession of
colored flashes. Steam sizzled up from the seething water.
What is the meaning of this? Grandpa Sorenson
hollered, hustling to the edge of the pool. Lena followed
behind him. The water in the pool flickered a few more
times. Many of the fairies whizzed away. A few flew over to
Grandpa.
One fairy in particular chirped angrily. She had short
blue hair and silvery wings.
He did what? Grandpa said.
An unrecognizable monstrosity heaved itself out of the
water and lay panting on the flagstones. The deformed
creature had no clothes. Lena crouched beside him, placing
a hand on his side.
He had no idea that would happen, Grandpa complained.
It was innocent!
The fairy twittered her disapproval.
Kendra gaped at the freakish form of her brother. Most
of his hair had fallen out, revealing a lumpy scalp stippled
with moles. His face was broader and flatter, with sunken
eyes and tusks the size of bananas protruding from his
mouth. A misshapen hump swelled high above his shoulders.
On his back below the hump, four blowholes puckered
for air. His legs had united into a single crude tail. He
slapped the ground with his flipper arm. The tentacle
writhed like a snake.
An unlucky coincidence, Grandpa said consolingly.
Most unfortunate. Can’t you have mercy on the boy?
The fairy chirped vehemently.
I’m sorry you feel that way. I feel terrible about what
happened. I assure you the atrocity was unintentional.
After a final outburst of squealing sounds, the fairy
zoomed away.
Are you okay? Kendra said, squatting beside Seth.
He made a garbled moan, then a second, more distressed
complaint that sounded like a donkey gargling
mouthwash.
Hush, Seth, Grandpa said. You’ve lost the ability of
speech.
I’ll fetch Dale, Lena said, hurrying off.
What have they done to him? Kendra asked.
An act of vengeance, Grandpa said grimly.
For trying to catch fairies?
For succeeding.
He caught one?
He did.
So they turned him into a deformed walrus? I thought
they couldn’t use magic against us!
He used potent magic to transform the captured fairy
into an imp, unwittingly opening the door for magical retribution.
Seth doesn’t know any magic!
I’m sure it was accidental, Grandpa said. Can you
understand me, Seth? Slap your flipper three times if you
grasp what I am saying.
The flipper flapped against the flagstones three times.
It was very foolish to catch a fairy, Seth, Grandpa
said. I warned you they were unsafe. But I share some of
the blame. I’m sure you were inspired by Maddox and
wanted to begin a career as a fairy broker.
Seth nodded awkwardly, his entire bloated torso bobbing
up and down.
I should have specifically forbidden it. I forget h
ow
curious and daring children can be. And how resourceful.
I would never have supposed you were capable of actually
trapping one.
What magic did he use? Kendra asked, on the verge
of hysterics.
If a captured fairy is kept indoors from sunset to sunrise,
it changes into an imp.
What’s an imp?
A fallen fairy. Nasty little creatures. Imps despise
themselves as much as fairies adore themselves. Just as
fairies are drawn to beauty, imps are drawn to ugliness.
Their personalities change so quickly?
Their personalities remain the same, Grandpa said.
Shallow and self-absorbed. The change in appearance
reveals the tragic side of that mind-set. Vanity curdles into
misery. They become spiteful and jealous, wallowing in
wretchedness.
What about the fairies Maddox caught? Why don’t
they change?
He avoids leaving the cages indoors overnight. His
captured fairies spend at least part of every night outdoors.
Just putting the container outside prevents them from
becoming imps?
Sometimes powerful magic is accomplished by simple
means.
Why did the other fairies attack Seth? Why would
they care, if they’re so selfish?
They care because they are selfish. Each fairy worries
she could be next. I am told Seth even left a mirror with
the fairy, so she could behold herself after she fell. The
fairies considered that act particularly cruel.
Grandpa answered every question with great calm, no
matter how accusingly or angrily Kendra asked it. His
peaceful demeanor was helping her calm down a bit. I’m
sure it was an accident, she said.
Seth nodded vigorously, blubber jiggling.
I suspect no malice. It was an unfortunate mishap. But
the fairies have little interest in his motives. They were
within their rights to exact retribution.
You can switch him back.
Restoring Seth to his original form is well beyond my
abilities.
Seth let out a long, mournful bellow. Kendra patted his
hump. We have to do something!
Yes, Grandpa said. He placed his hands over his eyes
and then dragged them down his face. This would be very
complicated to explain to your parents.
Who can fix him? Maddox?
Maddox is no magician. Besides, he is long gone.
Though I hesitate, I can think of only one person who
might be able to undo the enchantments placed on your
brother.
Who?
Seth has met her.
The witch?
Grandpa nodded. Under the circumstances, our only
hope is Muriel Taggert.
The wheelbarrow swayed as it bumped over a root.
Dale managed to steady it. Seth groaned. He was naked
except for a white towel wrapped around his middle.
Sorry, Seth, Dale said. This is a tricky path.
Are we almost there? Kendra asked.
Not much farther, Grandpa replied.
They walked single file, Grandpa in the lead, followed
by Dale pushing the wheelbarrow, and then Kendra in the
rear. What had begun as a nearly indiscernible trail near
the barn had broadened into a well-trodden path. Later
they branched off onto a smaller track. They had crossed
no new paths since then.
The woods seem so quiet, Kendra said.
They are quietest when you stay on the paths,
Grandpa said.
It seems too quiet.
There is a tension in the air. Your brother committed a
serious offense. The fall of a fairy is a woeful tragedy. The
retribution of the fairies was equally brutal. Eager eyes
await to see if the conflict will escalate.
It won’t, right?
I hope not. If Muriel cures your brother, the fairies
could interpret it as an insult.
Would they attack him again?
Probably not. At least not directly. The punishment
has been administered.
Can we heal the fairy?
Grandpa shook his head. No.
Could the witch?
Seth was altered by magic imposed upon him. But the
potential to fall and become an imp is a fundamental
aspect of being a fairy. She transformed in accordance to a
law that has existed as long as fairies have had wings.
Muriel might be able to undo the enchantments forced
upon Seth. Reversing the fall of a fairy would be far beyond
her capacity.
Poor fairy.
They reached a fork in the path. Grandpa turned left.
Almost there, he said. Keep silent as we converse with
her.
Kendra stared at the bushes and trees, expecting to find
spiteful eyes glaring back at her. What creatures would
come into view if all the greenery were removed? What
would happen if she raced off the path? How long before
some gruesome monster devoured her?
Grandpa stopped, pointing away into the trees. Here
we are.
Kendra saw the leafy shack in the distance, off the path
through the trees.
Too much undergrowth for the wheelbarrow, Dale
said, scooping Seth into his arms. Although Seth was much
more blubbery, he had not increased in size. As they waded
through the undergrowth, Dale carried him without much
difficulty.
The ivy-shrouded shack drew near. They walked
around to the front. The filthy witch sat inside, her back
against the tree stump, chewing on a knot in a bristly rope.
A pair of imps sat on the tree stump. One was skinny, with
prominent ribs and long, flat feet. The other was compact
and plump.
Hello, Muriel, Grandpa said.
The imps sprang from the trunk and scurried out of
sight. Muriel looked up, a slow grin revealing decayed
teeth. Could that be Stan Sorenson? She rubbed her eyes
theatrically and squinted at him. No, I must be dreaming.
Stan Sorenson said he would never visit me again!
I need your help, Grandpa said.
And you brought company. I remember Dale. Who is
this fine young lady?
My granddaughter.
She got none of your looks, lucky for her. My name is
Muriel, dear, pleased to meet you.
I’m Kendra.
Yes, of course. You have that lovely pink nightgown
with the bow on the bosom.
Kendra shot a look at Grandpa. How could this crazy
witch know about her pajamas?
I know a thing or two, Muriel continued, tapping her
temple. Telescopes are for stars, dear, not for trees.
Pay her no heed, Grandpa said. She wants to give
you the impression that she has power to spy on you in
your bedroom. Witches prey on fear. Her influence does
not extend beyond the walls of this shack.
Won’t you step inside for some tea? she offered.
What news she has comes from imps, Grandpa continued.
And since imps are banned from the yard, her
news came from a particular imp.
Muriel let out a shrieking laugh. The crazed cackle
suited her haggard appearance much better th
an her speaking
voice did.
The imp saw your room, and heard conversations from
wherever Seth stashed it, Grandpa concluded. Nothing
to fret about.
Muriel raised a finger in objection. Nothing to fret
about, you say?
Nothing the imp saw or heard could be harmful,
Grandpa clarified.
Except, perhaps, her own reflection, Muriel suggested.
Who is our final visitor? This poor, lumpy abomination?
Could it be? She clapped her hands and giggled.
Did our stalwart adventurer have a mishap? Did his clever
tongue finally betray him?
You know what happened, Grandpa said.
I do, I do, she cackled. I knew he was insolent, but
never suspected such cruelty! Lock him in a shed, I say. For
the sake of the fairies. Lock him up tight.
Can you restore him? Grandpa asked.
Restore him? the witch exclaimed. After what he
did?
It was an accident, as you are aware.
Why not ask me to rescue a killer from the noose? To
spare a traitor from his shame?
Can you do it?
Shall I conjure up a medal for him to wear as well? A
badge of honor for his crime?
Can you?
Muriel dropped the act. She regarded her visitors with
a sly expression. You know the price.
I can’t loosen a knot, Grandpa said.
Muriel tossed up her gnarled hands. You know I need
the energy from the knot for the spell, she said. He has
more than seventy separate hexes operating on him. You
ought to untie seventy knots.
What about-
No dickering. One knot, and your beastly grandson
will be restored to his original form. Without the knot, I
would never be able to counter the enchantment. This is
fairy magic. You knew the price before you came. No dickering.
Grandpa sagged. Show me the rope.
Lay the boy at my threshold.
Dale placed Seth in front of the door. Standing in the
doorway, Muriel held the rope out to Grandpa. There were
two knots. Both had dried blood on them. One was still
moist with saliva. Take your pick, she said.
Of my own free will, I sever this knot, Grandpa said.
Leaning forward, he blew gently on the higher of the two
knots. It unraveled.
The air trembled. On hot days, Kendra had seen the air
shimmer in the distance. This was similar, but right in front
of her. She felt pulsing vibrations, like she was standing in
front of a powerful stereo speaker during a song with lots of
bass. The ground seemed to be tipping.