“What about when the fairies attacked Seth?” she asked. “Was he fairystruck then?”
“That’s different,” Tanu said. “Fairies use their magic all the time, sometimes for mischief, sometimes to beautify a garden. Being fairystruck is when fairies mark you as one of their own and share their power with you. We can’t even be sure that is what happened to you, but the evidence looks very suspicious. The Sphinx should be able to tell you more.”
“I hope someone can,” Kendra said.
“You really think this is a breakthrough?” Dale asked.
“Figuring out what Warren’s condition is, and what variables affect that condition, will be the key to curing it,” Tanu said. “What happened here today is a big step in the right direction.”
“He’ll just keep doing jumping jacks forever?” Seth asked.
“Eventually he’d collapse, I guess,” Dale said. “Otherwise, he’ll go until I stop him.”
“You just leave him out here alone?” Kendra asked.
“Many nights I stay with him,” Dale said. “Some nights Hugo watches over him. An interesting consequence of his condition is that the creatures of Fablehaven never come near him, even when I bring him outside. Foul or fair, they keep their distance. Of course, I’m out here every day, to check on him and feed him and see to his hygiene.”
“If we were all quiet, couldn’t we find him a room back at the house?” Kendra asked.
“I take him there from time to time, like on his birthday. But he never seems comfortable. He curls up more, goes limp more. Out here he seems more peaceful. This is where he stayed before it happened.”
“He lived out here even before he became albino?” Seth asked.
Dale nodded. “Warren enjoyed his privacy. Unlike me, he was never a permanent fixture at Fablehaven. He came and went. He was an adventurer, like Tanu here, or Coulter, or Vanessa. He belonged to a special brotherhood — the Knights of the Dawn. It was all very hush-hush. They worked to combat the Society of the Evening Star. The last time Warren visited, he stayed for quite a while. He was on some sort of secret mission. He didn’t tell me the details; he was always tight-lipped about his assignments until after the fact. I have no idea if it had anything to do with what turned him white. But he was as good a brother as a guy could hope for. Never hesitated to help me out. Now I get to return the favor, make sure he gets exercise, eats right, stays healthy.”
Kendra watched Warren performing his awkward jumping jacks in the absurd sombrero. He was sweating. It was heartbreaking to picture him as an intelligent adventurer fulfilling dangerous assignments. Warren was no longer that person.
“Want to see something nice?” Dale asked, apparently trying to change the subject.
“Sure,” Kendra said.
“Follow me up to the belvedere,” Dale said over his shoulder.
Leaving Tanu with Warren, Dale led Kendra and Seth back into the cabin and up the ladder to the loft. From the loft, he led them up a second ladder through a hatch in the ceiling. They came out on the roof of the cabin, on a small platform with a low tailing. The platform was high enough to see over the nearest treetops down the slope from the cabin, which extended their view quite a distance. The hill was not terribly high, but it was the highest point in the area.
“It’s beautiful,” Kendra said.
“Warren used to like to come up here and watch the sunset,” Dale said. “It was his favorite place to think. You should see it in the fall.”
“Isn’t that where the Forgotten Chapel used to be?” Seth asked, pointing to a lower hill not far away, brilliant with flowers and blossoming shrubs and fruit trees.
“Good eyes,” Dale said.
Kendra recognized the place as well. Up until they had veered off onto the cart track that brought them to the cabin, she knew they had been walking along the same path Hugo had taken them down when they went to rescue Grandpa the previous summer. Her army of fairies had leveled the chapel when they defeated and imprisoned Bahumat and Muriel. Then the fairies had mounded up the surrounding earth over the spot the chapel had occupied and made it bloom as brightly as the gardens back at the house.
“Must look better now without that moldy old church,” Seth said.
“The chapel had a certain charm,” Dale said. “Especially from a distance.”
“I’m getting hungry,” Seth grumbled.
“Which is why we brought food,” Dale replied. “And there is more in the cupboards. Let’s go fetch Tanu and Warren. I bet my brother has worked up an appetite.”
“What’ll you do if you can’t find a way to cure him?” Seth asked.
Dale paused. “I’ll never know that day has come, because I’ll never stop trying.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Dungeon
The next morning, Kendra, Seth, Grandpa, Grandma, and Tanu sat around the kitchen table eating breakfast. Outside, the sun was rising on a clear, humid day.
“What are we doing today?” Seth asked, using his fork to chop up his omelet.
“Today you’re going to stay here at the house with me and your grandmother,” said Grandpa.
“What?” Seth cried. “Where’s everybody going?”
“And what are we?” Grandpa asked.
“I mean, where are the others going?” Seth restated.
“This omelet is delicious, Grandpa,” Kendra said after swallowing a mouthful.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, my dear,” Grandpa replied with dignity, shooting a glance at Grandma, who pretended not to notice.
“They have some unpleasant business to attend to,” Grandma told Seth.
“You mean awesome business,” Seth accused, whirling on Tanu. “You’re ditching us? What was all that about teamwork yesterday?”
“Keeping you and your sister safe was one of our goals,” Tanu replied calmly.
“How are we ever supposed to learn anything if you only let us do wimpy stuff?” Seth complained.
Coulter entered the room holding a walking stick. The top of the stick was forked and strung with an elastic strap that turned it into a slingshot. “You don’t want to come where we’re going today,” he said.
“How do you know?” Seth said.
“Because I don’t want to come,” Coulter said. “Omelets? Who made omelets?”
“Grandpa,” Kendra said.
Coulter suddenly looked cautious. “What is this, Stan? Our last meal?”
“I just wanted to lend a hand in the kitchen,” Grandpa said innocently.
Coulter eyed Grandpa suspiciously. “He must love you kids,” Coulter finally said. “He’s been exploiting those broken bones to stay as far from chores as possible.”
“I’m not okay with being left behind,” Seth reminded everyone.
“We’re going to an unmapped portion of Fablehaven,” Tanu explained. “We’re not sure what to expect, except that it will be dangerous. If all goes well, we’ll bring you next time.”
“You think the relic might be hidden there?” Kendra asked.
“It is one of several possible places,” Tanu said. “We expect to find the relic in one of the less hospitable areas of the preserve.”
“All we’ll probably find are hobgoblins, fog giants, and blixes,” Coulter spat, taking a seat at the table. He shook some salt into his palm and tossed it over his shoulder, then rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. The motions seemed automatic.
Vanessa strolled into the room. “I have some unhappy news,” she declared. She wore a U.S. Army T-shirt and black canvas pants, and had her hair tied back.
“What?” Grandma asked.
“My drumants got loose last night, and I only recaptured a third of them,” Vanessa said.
“They’re loose in the house?” Grandma exclaimed.
Coulter jabbed his fork toward Vanessa accusingly. “I told you no good would come from bringing that menagerie indoors.”
“I can’t imagine how they got out,” Vanessa said. “I’ve never had trouble
like this before.”
“You obviously weren’t bitten,” Tanu said.
“Think again,” Vanessa replied, holding up her arm and displaying three pairs of puncture wounds. “More than twenty bites, all over my body.”
“How are you still alive?” Grandpa said.
“These were a special strain of drumants I bred myself,” Vanessa said. “I’ve been experimenting with eliminating the toxicity of venomous whirligigs.”
“What’s a whirligig?” Kendra asked.
“And what’s a drumant?” Seth added.
“Any magical animal of subhuman intelligence is a whirligig,” Grandma explained. “It’s jargon.”
“Drumants look kind of like tarantulas with tails,” Tanu said. “Very furry. They hop around, and can warp light to distort their location. You think you see one, and you go to grab it, but you only touch an illusion, because the drumant is actually two or three feet away.”
“They’re nocturnal,” Grandpa said. “Aggressive biters. They normally wield a deadly poison.”
“Somehow the door to the cage got open,” Vanessa said. “All nineteen escaped. When I woke up, they were all over me. I managed to catch six. The rest scattered. They’re in the walls by now.”
“Six of nineteen is less than a third,” Coulter pointed out while chewing.
“I know I shut and locked the cage,” Vanessa said firmly. “To be plain, if I were anywhere else, I would suspect foul play. Nobody knew those drumants weren’t poisonous. If they had been, I would be dead right now.”
An awkward silence stretched out.
Grandpa cleared his throat. “In your shoes, regardless of where I was, I would suspect sabotage.”
Kendra stared at her plate. Had one of the people eating breakfast with her just tried to kill Vanessa? Certainly not her or Grandpa or Grandma or Seth! Tanu? Coulter? She didn’t want to make eye contact with anybody.
“Could an outsider have sneaked in?” Vanessa said. “Or could someone have escaped the dungeon?”
“Not likely,” Grandpa said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Brownies and mortals are the only beings permitted to enter this house freely. Brownies would never cause mischief like that. Besides Dale and Warren, the only mortals free to roam this preserve are in this room. Dale stayed at the cabin last night. Any other mortals would have to get past the gate before they could get to the house, and getting past the gate is nearly impossible.”
“Somebody could have been hiding on the grounds for a long time, and waited until now to strike,” Coulter theorized.
“Anything is possible,” Vanessa said. “But I would swear that I left that cage locked. I haven’t opened it in three days!”
“Nobody saw anything peculiar last night?” Grandpa asked, fixing his stare on everyone in turn.
“I wish I had,” Tanu said.
“Not a thing,” Coulter murmured, narrow eyes thoughtful.
Kendra, Seth, and Grandma shook their heads.
“Well, until we find out more, we have to consider this an accident,” Grandpa said. “But be doubly vigilant. I have a hunch that several pieces are missing from this puzzle.”
“None of the drumants were poisonous?” Grandma asked.
“None,” Vanessa said. “They’ll be a nuisance, but they won’t cause any lasting harm. I’ll put out traps. We’ll get them rounded up. If you sprinkle sawdust and garlic on your sheets, it should help keep them away.”
“Might as well add some broken glass while we’re at it,” Coulter grumbled.
“With all these drumants loose,” Seth said, “maybe we’d be safer going with you guys today.”
“Nice try,” Kendra said.
“Ruth will keep you entertained,” Grandpa said.
“I have some fascinating things to show you,” Grandma agreed.
“Cool things?” Seth asked.
“You’ll think so,” Grandma promised.
Vanessa pulled a white mesh fabric from her pocket. “I’ll leave a few of these around the house. If you spot a drumant…” She tossed the fabric and it fell to the floor like a parachute, spreading to cover nearly an eight-foot diameter. “The lump will tell you where the little rascal is actually hiding. Use the surrounding mesh to scoop him up. If he tries to hop away, he’ll just get tangled. Might take a little practice, but it works. Don’t just take a swat at them or try to pick them up with your bare hands.”
“No worries about that,” Kendra said. “Do you have other animals, too?”
“Several varieties, yes,” Vanessa said.
“Are any of them poisonous?” Kendra asked.
“None are lethal. Although some of my salamanders could put you to sleep. I use their extracts for my darts.”
“Darts?” Seth asked, perking up.
“For my blowgun,” Vanessa said.
Seth was practically jumping out of his seat. “I want to try it!”
“All in due time,” Vanessa said.
* * *
The air felt significantly cooler at the bottom of the long flight of steep stairs to the basement. The iron door looked ominous at the end of the gloomy corridor, illuminated only by the flashlight Grandma Sorenson carried. At the base of the door was the smaller portal the brownies used, matching the other tiny portal in the door at the top of the stairs.
“The brownies get in and out through the dungeon?” Seth asked.
“Yes,” Grandma replied. “At least one visits every night, to see if we left anything for them to fix.”
“Why don’t you let the brownies do all your cooking?” Kendra asked. “They make tasty food.”
“Delicious,” she agreed. “But no matter what ingredients we leave, they try to make everything into a dessert.”
“Sounds good to me,” Seth said. “Have the brownies ever made you brownies?”
Grandma winked. “Where do you think brownies got their name? The little masterminds invented the treat.”
They reached the metal door. Grandma produced a key. “Remember, keep your voices down, and stay away from the cell doors.”
“Do we have to do this?” Kendra asked.
“Are you nuts?” Seth asked. “They’re locked up, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“There is plenty to worry about,” Grandma corrected. “I know you’re just trying to encourage your sister, but never treat the dungeon casually. The creatures down here are imprisoned for a reason. Your grandfather and I bring the keys to the individual cells into the dungeon only when transferring prisoners. That should tell you something.”
“I’m not sure I want to see what’s down here,” Kendra said.
Grandma placed a hand on her shoulder. “Running toward danger is foolhardy. As your brother has hopefully learned. But so is closing your eyes to it. Many perils become less dangerous once you understand their potential hazards.”
“I know,” Kendra said. “Ignorance is no longer a shield, and all that.”
“Good,” Seth said. “That’s settled. Can we go in now?”
Grandma inserted the key and pushed open the door. It squealed a bit. A cool, damp breeze greeted them. “We need to oil those hinges,” Grandma said in a hushed voice, shining the beam of her flashlight down a long corridor. Iron doors with small, barred windows lined the hall. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of stone.
They entered and Grandma closed the door behind them. “Why only flashlights?” Seth asked.
Grandma pointed the flashlight beam at a light switch. “From here forward, the dungeon is wired for lighting.” She shone the beam on some naked lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling. “But most of our guests prefer the dark. To be humane, we generally stick to flashlights.”
Grandma walked over to the nearest door. The barred window was about five feet off the ground — low enough for all of them to see into the vacant cell beyond. Grandma pointed to a slot near the base of the door. “The keepers slide in trays of food through the slot.”
“The priso
ners never leave their cells?” Kendra asked.
“No,” Grandma said. “And escape is difficult. All of the cells are magically sealed, of course. And we have a few stronger containment areas for more powerful occupants. In the event of a jailbreak, a whisper hound serves as a fail-safe.”
“Whisper hound?” Seth asked.
“It’s not a living creature — just an enchantment,” Grandma said. “Every now and then down here you brush past an icy cold pocket. That is the whisper hound. It becomes quite ferocious if a prisoner breaks out of a cell. I’ve never heard of that happening here.”
“It must be a lot of work feeding the prisoners,” Kendra said.
“Not for us,” Grandma said. “Most of the cells are empty. And we have a pair of keepers, lesser goblins who make and serve the glop and keep things reasonably tidy.”
“Wouldn’t goblins let the prisoners out?” Kendra asked.
Grandma led them down the corridor. “Smart ones might. Our keepers are the type of goblins that have managed dungeons for millennia. Scrawny, servile creatures who live to take and execute orders from their superiors — meaning your grandfather and myself. Besides, they have no keys. They enjoy dwelling in the dark, supervising their dismal domain.”
“I want to see some prisoners,” Seth said.
“Trust me, there are many you don’t want to meet,” Grandma assured him. “Several are quite ancient, transfers from other preserves. Many speak no English. All are dangerous.”
The corridor ended in a T. They could turn left or right. Grandma shone the flashlight both ways. There were more cell doors down both halls. “This hallway is part of a large square. You can go either left or right and end up back here. A few other corridors branch off, but nothing too complex. There are some noteworthy features I want to show you.”
Grandma turned right. Eventually the corridor elbowed to the left. Seth kept trying to peek into the cells they were passing. “Too dark,” he reported quietly to Kendra. Grandma had the light pointed ahead of them.
Kendra peered into one of the windows and saw a wolflike face glaring back at her. What was Seth’s problem? Were his eyes bad? He had just looked into the same cell, reporting he could see nothing. It was dim, but not black. After seeing the wolfman, she did not peek through any of the other barred windows.
[Fablehaven 02] - Rise of the Evening Star Page 10