Fablehaven1-Fablehaven

by Brandon Mull

  may not even be a relevant clue. It could belong to the perpetrator,

  or to the mount the perpetrator rode, or it could

  belong to something that just happened to step there sometime

  during the night.

  So we just ignore Dale for now? Kendra asked.

  We have no alternative. Time is short. We can only

  hope that by rescuing your grandfather, we can shed more

  light on what caused Dale’s condition and find a way to

  reverse the curse. Come.

  They returned to the house. Grandma spoke over her

  shoulder as they mounted the stairs to the second floor.

  There are a few special strongholds within the house. One

  is the room where you have been staying. Another is a second

  room on the other side of the attic.

  I knew it! Kendra said. I could tell from outside

  there had to be more to the attic. But I could never find a

  way in.

  You were probably searching in the wrong place,

  Grandma said, leading them down the hall to her room.

  The two sides of the attic are not interconnected. When

  we get up there, I’ll fill you in on my strategy. Grandma

  crouched and picked through a broken nightstand. She

  found a few hairpins and used them to pile her hair into a

  matronly bun. Searching more, she located a key. She led

  them into the master bathroom, where she used the key to

  unlock a closet door.

  Instead of a closet, the door opened to reveal a second

  door, this one made of steel with a large combination

  wheel. A vault door. Grandma began spinning the wheel.

  Four turns right to 11, three left to 28, two right to 3, one

  left to 31, and half a turn right to 18.

  She pulled a lever, and the heavy door clacked open.

  Carpeted stairs led up to another door. Grandma went up

  first. Seth and Kendra joined her in the attic.

  This side of the attic was even larger than the playroom.

  Grandma flipped a switch, and several lights dispelled

  the dimness. A long workbench dominated one side

  of the room, the wall above it covered with tools supported

  on pegs. Handsome wooden cabinets lined the other walls.

  Various unusual objects littered the room-a birdcage, a

  phonograph, a battle-ax, a hanging scale, a mannequin, a

  globe the size of a beach ball. Trunks and boxes were

  arranged in rows on the floor, leaving just enough aisle

  space to access them. Heavy curtains concealed the

  windows.

  Grandma motioned them over to the workbench,

  where they perched on stools. What’s in all the boxes?

  Seth asked.

  Many things, most of them unsafe. This is where we

  guard our most prized weapons and talismans. Spell books,

  ingredients for potions, all the good stuff.

  You can tell us more about Grandpa now? Kendra

  said.

  Yes. You heard Nero say that Stan and Lena are being

  held in the Forgotten Chapel. Let me summarize some history

  to bring the ramifications into view.

  Long ago, this land was possessed by a powerful demon

  named Bahumat. For centuries, he terrorized the natives

  who dwelt in the region. They learned to avoid certain

  areas, yet even with these precautions, nowhere in the

  vicinity was truly safe. The natives made whatever offerings

  the demon seemed to require, but still they lived in

  fear. When a group of Europeans offered to overthrow the

  demon in exchange for a claim to the lands it haunted, the

  incredulous local leaders consented.

  Aided by mighty allies and potent magic, the

  Europeans successfully subdued and imprisoned the demon.

  Some years later, they founded Fablehaven on the land

  they wrested from Bahumat.

  Years passed. In the early 1800s, a community comprised

  chiefly of extended family had developed on this

  preserve. They built a number of dwellings around the original

  mansion. This was before the current house and barn

  were constructed. The old mansion still stands deep within

  this property, though most of the flimsier structures around

  it have been swallowed by time and the elements.

  Although their homes are gone, they did construct one

  lasting structure-a church.

  In 1826, thanks to human frailty and foolishness,

  Bahumat nearly escaped. It could have been a serious disaster,

  because none who remained on the preserve possessed

  the resources or knowledge to contend successfully with an

  entity of his power. Although the jailbreak was prevented,

  the experience proved too unnerving for most who lived

  here, and the majority departed.

  The prison that held the demon had been damaged.

  With outside help, Bahumat was moved to a new holding

  area in the basement of the church. Meetings there ceased

  a few months after that, and in the intervening years it has

  become known as the Forgotten Chapel.

  So Bahumat is still there? Kendra said.

  Believe me, we would know if Bahumat had been

  loosed. I doubt anyone in the world has the capacity to

  recapture that fiend if he were to get free. His kind have

  been absent for too long, imprisoned or destroyed. Those

  who knew how to defeat such a foe have passed on, with

  none to replace them. Which brings me to my greatest

  concern: that Muriel might try to release Bahumat.

  Would she do something that stupid? Seth cried.

  Muriel is a student of evil. She was originally imprisoned

  for tampering with such things. If she reaches the

  Forgotten Chapel first, which she may have already done,

  assuming her imps have apprised her of the situation, we

  will have to neutralize her in order to save your grandfather.

  If we allow her enough time to release Bahumat, we

  will all need saving. That is why I must try to stop her

  immediately.

  Not just you, Seth said.

  Hugo and I will handle this. You kids have done

  enough.

  What? Seth exclaimed. No way!

  Retrieving your grandfather should not be too difficult.

  But if the worst-case scenario transpires, and I fail,

  Fablehaven could fall. Bahumat never agreed to the treaty

  that protects this sanctuary. None of his kind would. He

  has a claim to this land and is a being of sufficient power

  to overthrow the treaty, plunging the preserve into endless

  darkness. Every day would become like those fearful festival

  nights, and this property would be forever uninhabitable

  for all but the denizens of shadow. Any mortal trapped

  here would fall prey to horrors too terrible to contemplate.

  Could that really happen? Kendra asked quietly.

  It would not be the first time, Grandma said,

  Preserves have fallen ever since they were instituted. The

  causes are myriad, usually stemming from human folly.

  Some have been reclaimed. Others fell beyond redemption.

  Currently there are at least thirty fallen preserves in the

  world. Perhaps most unnerving are the recent whispers

  about the Society of the Evening Star.

  Maddox told us about them, Seth
said.

  Grandpa got a letter warning him to be on the lookout,

  Kendra added.

  Traditionally, the fall of a preserve was an uncommon

  occurrence. Maybe one or two a century. About ten years

  ago, rumors began to circulate that the Society of the

  Evening Star was working mischief again. Around the same

  time, preserves began falling at an alarming rate. Four have

  fallen over the past five years.

  Why would anybody do that? Kendra asked.

  Many have sought the answer to that question,

  Grandma said. To gain riches? Power? We who safeguard

  the preserves are essentially conservationists. We don’t

  want to see the magnificent magical creatures of the world

  go extinct. We try not to discriminate against creatures of

  shadow-we want them to survive as well. But we do

  compartmentalize them when necessary. Members of the

  Society of the Evening Star mask their true intentions with

  rhetoric, alleging that we wrongfully imprison creatures of

  darkness.

  Do you? Seth asked.

  The most violent and malevolent demons are imprisoned,

  yes, but that is for the safety of the world. In pursuit

  of endless carnage and unlawful dominion, they clashed

  anciently with good humans and creatures of light, and are

  paying a heavy price for losing. Many other sinister entities

  were admitted to preserves only on condition that they

  would agree to certain limitations-agreements they

  entered voluntarily. A common restriction is that they are

  not permitted to leave the preserve, so the Society considers

  many of these creatures also incarcerated. They argue

  that the covenants of the preserves create artificial rules

  that upset the natural order of things. They consider the

  majority of humanity expendable. Their premise is that

  chaos and bloodshed are preferable to just regulations. We

  disagree.

  Do you think the Evening Star people are involved in

  kidnapping Grandpa? Kendra asked.

  Grandma shrugged. Possibly. I hope not. If so, it was

  done with great subtlety. There are powerful limits to how

  any outsider can intrude on a preserve. And our preserve is

  more secret than most.

  Grandma opened a drawer and pulled out a rolled

  parchment. Unrolling it, she revealed a map of the world.

  Large dots and X’s were located on diverse portions of the

  map, aside from the labeling of major cities.

  The X’s mark fallen preserves, Grandma said. The

  dots mark active ones.

  Fablehaven isn’t marked, Kendra noticed.

  Sharp eyes, Grandma said. There are thirty-seven

  active preserves noted on the map. And five unmarked preserves,

  of which Fablehaven is one. Even among those

  most trusted in our community, very few people know

  about the unmarked preserves. None know of them all.

  Why? Seth asked.

  Special artifacts of great power are hidden on those

  five preserves.

  What artifacts? Seth asked, excited.

  I cannot say. I don’t know most of the details myself.

  The artifact here at Fablehaven is not in our possession. It

  is guarded at an undisclosed location on the property.

  Evildoers, particularly the Society of the Evening Star,

  would like nothing more than to collect the artifacts from

  the hidden preserves.

  So there are many reasons Fablehaven must be protected,

  Kendra said.

  Grandma nodded. Your grandfather and I are prepared

  to give our lives if necessary.

  Maybe none of us should go after Grandpa, Kendra

  said. Can’t we get help?

  There are some who would come to our aid if summoned,

  but I need to stop Muriel and find your grandfather

  today. Nobody could reach us that quickly. Fablehaven is

  protected by secrecy. At times this becomes a hindrance. I

  do not know what spells bind Bahumat, but I am certain

  that, given sufficient time, Muriel will find a way to

  unravel them. I must act now.

  Grandma slid off the stool, walked down an aisle,

  opened a trunk, and withdrew an ornate box embossed

  with vines and flowers. From the box she removed a small

  crossbow not much larger than a pistol. She also took out a

  small arrow with black fletching, an ivory shaft, and a silver

  head.

  Cool, Seth cried. I want one!

  This dart will slay any being that was ever mortal,

  including the enchanted or undead, if I can lodge it in a

  lethal place.

  Where is lethal? Kendra asked.

  The heart and the brain are surest. Witches can be

  tricky. This is the only talisman I am certain will slay

  Muriel.

  You’re going to kill her? Kendra whispered.

  Only as a last resort. First I will try to have Hugo capture

  her. But the stakes are too high for us to sally forth

  without a failsafe. If the golem should unforeseeably disappoint

  me, I lack the skills to subdue Muriel myself. Believe

  me, the last thing I want is her blood on my hands. Killing

  a mortal is not quite as grievous a crime as killing a mystical

  being, but it would still dissolve most of the protection

  afforded me by the treaty. I would probably have to banish

  myself from the preserve.

  But she’s trying to destroy the whole preserve! Seth

  complained.

  Not by directly killing anyone, Grandma said. The

  chapel is neutral ground. If I go there and kill her, even if I

  can justify the act, the protection of the treaty will never

  again be mine.

  I heard Dale shooting guns and stuff the night the

  creatures came through our window, Kendra said.

  Creatures were invading our territory, Grandma

  explained. Regardless of the reason, by coming into this

  house, they surrender all their protections. Under those circumstances,

  Dale could slay them with no fear of retribution,

  meaning his status under the treaty would remain

  secure. This same principle could work against you if you

  were to venture into certain forbidden areas of Fablehaven.

  If you were thus stripped of all protection, it would be open

  hunting season on Kendra and Seth. Which is precisely

  why those areas are prohibited.

  I don’t get who would punish you for killing Muriel,

  Seth said.

  The mystical barriers that protect me would be lifted,

  and the punishment would naturally follow. You see, as

  mortals, we can choose to break the rules. The mystical

  creatures that seek asylum here are not afforded that luxury.

  Many would break the rules if they could, but they are

  bound. As long as I obey the rules, I am safe. But if I lose

  the protections afforded by the treaty, the consequences of

  my vulnerability would inevitably follow.

  So does that mean Grandpa is alive for sure? Kendra

  asked in a small voice. They can’t kill him or anything.

  Stan has kept the rules pertaining to bloodshed, and

  so, even on their night of revelry, the dark creatures of this

  preserve would not be a
ble to kill him. Nor would they be

  able to force him to go to a place that would enable them

  to kill him. Imprisoned, tortured, driven insane, turned to

  lead-maybe. But he has to be alive. And I have to go after

  him.

  And I have to come with you, Seth said. You need

  backup.

  Hugo is my backup.

  Seth scrunched his face, resisting tears. I’m not going

  to lose you guys, especially when it’s my fault.

  Grandma Sorenson embraced Seth. Sweetheart, I

  appreciate your courage, but I’m not about to risk losing a

  grandchild.

  Won’t we be in just as much danger here as we would

  be if we were with you? Kendra said. If the demon gets

  loose, we’ll all be fried.

  I mean to send you away, off the preserve, Grandma

  said.

  Kendra folded her arms. So we can wait outside the

  gate until our parents get back, tell them you were killed

  by a demon, and insist that we can’t go to the house

  because it’s really a magical preserve that has fallen into

  darkness?

  Your parents do not know the true nature of this

  place, Grandma said. Nor would they believe without

  seeing.

  Exactly! Kendra said. If you fail, the first thing Dad

  will do is go straight to your house and investigate.

  Nothing we could say would keep him away. And he’ll

  probably call the cops, and the whole world will find out

  about this place.

  They wouldn’t see anything, Grandma said. But

  many would die inexplicably. And actually, they could see

  the cow, even without the milk, because Viola remains a

  mortal being.

  We came in handy with the troll, Seth said. And no

  matter what you do or say, I’ll follow you anyways.

  Grandma tossed up her hands. Sincerely, children, I

  think all will be fine. I know I described a dire scenario, but

  things like this happen on preserves from time to time, and

  we normally get them resolved. I don’t see why this would

  be any different. Hugo will mend the problem without serious

  incident, and if it comes to it, I am a crack shot with

  the crossbow. If you will just wait outside the gates, I’ll

  come for you before it gets too late.

  But I want to see Hugo pound Muriel, Seth insisted.

  If we’re supposed to possibly inherit this place someday,

  you won’t always be able to protect us from danger,

  Kendra said. Wouldn’t it be a good experience for us to

  watch you and Hugo handle the situation? Maybe we can