Fablehaven1-Fablehaven

by Brandon Mull

grown fond of Patton, seduced by his diligent attention,

  and, unlike the others, she did not consider his death an

  amusement. She fought off her sisters and returned him to

  the shore. That was the day I left the pond.

  Kendra spewed hot chocolate across the table. You’re

  the naiad?

  I was, once.

  You became mortal?

  Lena absently blotted up the hot chocolate Kendra had

  sprayed, using a small towel. If I could go back, I would

  make the same decision every time. We had a joyful life.

  Patton managed Fablehaven for fifty-one years before passing

  it off to a nephew. He lived twelve years after that —— died

  at ninety-one. His mind was sharp to the end. Helps

  to have a young wife.

  How are you still alive?

  I became subject to the laws of mortality, but they

  have taken effect gradually. As I sat by his deathbed, I

  looked perhaps twenty years older than I had on the day

  when I carried him from the water. I felt guilty about looking

  so young as his frail body was shutting down. I wanted

  to be old like him. Of course, now that my age is finally

  catching up with me, I don’t care for it much.

  Kendra sipped more of her hot chocolate. She was so

  enthralled that she barely tasted it. What did you do after

  he passed away?

  I took advantage of my mortality. I had paid a steep

  price for it, so I traveled the world to see what it had to

  offer. Europe, the Middle East, India, Japan, South

  America, Africa, Australia, the Pacific Islands. I had many

  adventures. I set some swimming records in Britain, and

  could have set even more except I was holding back-no

  sense raising a lot of questions. I worked as a painter, a chef,

  a geisha, a trapeze artist, a nurse. Many men pursued me,

  but I never loved again. Eventually, there was a sameness

  to the traveling, so I returned home, to the place my heart

  never left.

  Do you ever go back to the pond?

  Only in memory. It would be unwise. They despise me

  there, all the more intensely because of their secret envy.

  How they would laugh at my appearance! They have not

  aged a day. But I have experienced many things that they

  will never know. Some painful, some wonderful.

  Kendra finished the last of her hot chocolate and wiped

  her lips. What was it like being a naiad?

  Lena gazed out the window. Hard to say. I ask myself

  the same question. It wasn’t just my body that became mortal;

  my mind transformed as well. I think I prefer this life,

  but it might be because I have changed fundamentally.

  Mortality is a totally different state of being. You become

  more aware of time. I was absolutely content as a naiad. I

  lived in an unchanging state for what must have been

  many millennia, never thinking of the future or the past,

  always looking for amusement, always finding it. Almost no

  self-awareness. It feels like a blur now. No, like a blink. A

  single moment that lasted thousands of years.

  You would have lived forever, Kendra exclaimed.

  We weren’t quite immortal. We did not age, so I suppose

  some of our kind could endure forever, if lakes and

  rivers last forever. Difficult to say. We did not really live,

  not like mortals. We dreamed.

  Wow.

  At least that was the way of things until Patton, Lena

  said, more to herself now. I began looking forward to his

  visits, and back on them in memory. I suppose that was the

  beginning of the end.

  Kendra shook her head. And I thought you were just

  the half-Chinese housekeeper.

  She smiled. Patton always liked my eyes. She batted

  them. He said he was of the Asian persuasion.

  What’s Dale’s story? Is he a pirate king or something?

  Dale is a regular man. A second cousin of your grandfather.

  A man he trusts.

  Kendra looked into her empty mug. A ring of chocolate

  sediment circled the bottom. I have a question, she

  said, and I want you to answer honestly.

  If I can.

  Is my Grandma Sorenson dead?

  What makes you ask that?

  I think Grandpa makes up phony excuses for her not

  being around. This is a dangerous place. He has lied about

  other things. I get the feeling he’s trying to protect us from

  the truth.

  I often wonder if lies are ever a protection.

  She’s dead, isn’t she.

  No, she’s alive.

  Is she the witch?

  She’s not the witch.

  Is she really visiting Aunt Whoever in Missouri?

  That is for your grandfather to tell.

  Seth looked over his shoulder. Besides the fairies fluttering

  about, the garden looked still. Grandpa and Dale

  were long gone. Lena was in the house dusting. Kendra was

  off doing whatever boring things kept her occupied. He

  had his emergency kit in hand, along with a few strategic

  additions. Operation See Cool Monsters was about to

  begin.

  He hesitantly stepped off the edge of the lawn into the

  woods, half-expecting werewolves to leap out at him.

  There were a few fairies up ahead, not as many as in the

  garden. Otherwise things looked pretty much the same.

  He marched forward, setting a brisk pace.

  Where do you think you’re going?

  Seth whirled. Kendra was approaching from the garden.

  He walked back to meet her at the edge of the lawn. I

  want to see what’s really at the pond. Those nai-thingies

  and stuff.

  How brain-damaged are you? Didn’t you hear a word

  Grandpa told us yesterday?

  I’m going to be careful! I won’t go near the water.

  You could get killed! I mean really killed, not bitten

  by a tick. Grandpa made those rules for a reason!

  Adults always underestimate kids, Seth said. They

  get all protective because they think we’re babies. Think

  about it. Mom used to complain all the time about me

  playing in the street. But I always did it. And what happened?

  Nothing. I paid attention. I stayed out of the way

  when a car came.

  This is so different!

  Grandpa goes all over the place.

  Kendra clenched her hands into fists. Grandpa knows

  the places to avoid! You don’t even know what you’re dealing

  with. Besides, when Grandpa finds out, you’ll be stuck

  in the attic the rest of our stay.

  How’s he going to find out?

  He knew we went into the woods last time! He knew

  we drank the milk!

  Because you were there! Your bad luck rubbed off on

  me. How did you know where I was going?

  Your secret agent skills need some work, Kendra said.

  A good start might be not wearing your camouflage shirt

  every time you go exploring.

  I need to hide from the dragons!

  Right. You’re practically invisible. Just a floating

  head.

  I have my emergency kit. If anything attacks, I can

  scare it away with my gear.

  With rubber bands?

  I have a whistle.
I have a mirror. I have a cigarette

  lighter. I have firecrackers. They’ll think I’m a wizard.

  Do you really believe that?

  And I have this. He pulled out the little skull in the

  crystal globe from Grandpa’s desk. That should make

  them think twice.

  A skull the size of a peanut?

  There probably aren’t even any monsters, Seth said.

  What makes you think Grandpa’s telling the truth this

  time?

  I don’t know, maybe the fairies?

  Well, good job. You blew it. Congratulate yourself. I

  can’t go now.

  I’m going to blow it every time. Not to be a jerk, but

  because you could really get hurt.

  Seth kicked a stone, sending it skidding into the

  woods. What am I supposed to do now?

  How about exploring the enormous garden full of

  fairies?

  I already did. I can’t catch them.

  Not to catch them. To look at magical creatures that

  nobody else even knows exist. Come on.

  He reluctantly joined her.

  Oh, look, another fairy, he mumbled. Now I’ve seen

  a million.

  Don’t forget to put the skull back.

  When they responded to the call for dinner, a stranger

  sat at the table along with Grandpa and Dale. The stranger

  stood when they entered. He was taller than Grandpa and

  much broader, with curly brown hair. The layers of furry

  skins he wore made him look like a mountain man. He was

  missing the bottom of one earlobe.

  Kids, this is Maddox Fisk, Grandpa said. Maddox,

  meet my grandchildren, Kendra and Seth. Kendra shook

  the man’s calloused, thick-fingered hand.

  Do you work here too? Seth asked.

  Maddox is a fairy broker, Grandpa said.

  Among other things, Maddox added. Call fairies my

  specialty.

  You sell fairies? Kendra asked, taking a seat.

  Trap them, buy them, trade them, sell them. All of the

  above.

  How do you trap them? Seth asked.

  A man has to keep his trade secrets private, Maddox

  said, taking a bite of pork roast. Let me tell you, apprehending

  a fairy is no easy task. Slippery critters. The trick

  usually involves appealing to their vanity. Even then, takes

  quite a bit of know-how.

  Could you use an apprentice? Seth inquired.

  Hold that thought about six years. Maddox winked

  at Kendra.

  Who buys fairies? Kendra asked.

  Folks who run preserves, like your granddad. A few

  private collectors. Other brokers.

  Are there lots of preserves? Seth asked.

  Dozens, Maddox replied. They’re on all seven continents.

  Even Antarctica? Kendra asked.

  Two in Antarctica, although one is underground.

  Harsh environment. Perfect for certain species, though.

  Kendra swallowed a bite of pork. What keeps people

  from discovering the sanctuaries?

  There has been a worldwide network of dedicated

  people keeping the preserves secret for thousands of years,

  Grandpa said. They are backed by ancient fortunes, held

  in trust. Bribes get paid. Locations are changed when necessary.

  Helps that most folks are unable to see the little

  critters, Maddox said. With the right licenses, you can

  get butterflies through customs. When you can’t, there are

  other ways to cross borders.

  The preserves are the final refuge for many ancient

  and wonderful species, Grandpa said. The goal is to prevent

  these wondrous beings from passing out of existence.

  Amen, Maddox said.

  You have a good haul this season? Dale asked.

  Far as trapping goes, pickings are getting slimmer

  every year. I made a few exciting finds in the wild. One you

  won’t believe. I picked up several rare specimens from preserves

  in Southeast Asia and Indonesia. I’m sure we can do

  some trading. I’ll tell you more when we adjourn to the

  study.

  You kids would be welcome to join us, Grandpa said.

  All right! Seth cheered.

  Kendra took another bite of the succulent pork roast.

  Everything Lena cooked was outstanding. Always perfectly

  seasoned, typically served with delicious gravies or sauces.

  Kendra never had any complaints about her Mom’s cooking,

  but Lena was in a class all her own.

  Grandpa and Maddox discussed people Kendra did not

  know, other individuals involved in the secretive world of

  fairy aficionados. She wondered if Maddox would ask about

  Grandma, but it never came up.

  Maddox repeatedly mentioned the evening star.

  Grandpa seemed to focus on this news with particular

  interest. Rumors that the evening star was forming again.

  A woman who claimed the evening star tried to recruit her.

  Whispers of an attack by the evening star.

  Kendra could not resist interjecting. What’s the

  evening star? It sounds like you’re using it as a code word.

  Maddox glanced uncertainly at Grandpa. Grandpa

  gave him a nod.

  The Society of the Evening Star is an arcane organization

  that we all hoped had gone extinct decades ago,

  Maddox explained. Over the centuries, their relevance

  has waxed and waned. Seems like just when you think

  you’ve seen the last of them, you start hearing rumors

  again.

  They are dedicated to overthrowing preserves in order

  to use them for their own misguided purposes, Grandpa

  said. Members of the Society consort with demons and

  practitioners of the black arts.

  Are they going to attack us? Seth asked.

  Not likely, Grandpa said. The preserves are protected

  by powerful magic. But I lend an ear to the news all

  the same. Rarely hurts to be cautious.

  Why the evening star? Kendra asked. It’s such a

  pretty name.

  The evening star ushers in the night, Maddox said.

  They considered the statement in silence. Maddox wiped

  his lips with a napkin. Sorry. Not a very cheery topic

  around the dinner table.

  After supper, Lena cleared the table and they all went

  to the study. On the way there, Maddox collected several

  cases and crates from the entry hall. Dale, Seth, and

  Kendra helped. The cases had perforations, evidently to

  allow the creatures inside to breathe, but Kendra was

  unable to see into them. All were locked.

  Grandpa settled in behind his large desk, Dale and

  Maddox claimed the oversized armchairs, Lena leaned

  against the windowsill, and Kendra and Seth found seats

  on the floor.

  First off, Maddox said, bending over and unlocking a

  large black crate, we have some fairies from a preserve on

  Timor. He opened the hatch, and eight fairies soared out.

  Two tiny ones, not even an inch tall, darted to the window.

  They were amber in color, with wings like flies. One

  banged the windowpane with a miniscule fist. A large fairy,

  more than four inches tall, hovered in front of Kendra. She

  looked like a miniature Pacific Islander with dragonfly

  wings across her back as well as tiny wings on h
er ankles.

  Three of the fairies had elaborate butterfly wings with

  the appearance of stained glass. Another had oily black

  wings. The last had furry wings, and her body was coated

  with pale blue fuzz.

  Whoa! Seth said. That one’s all hairy.

  A downy fountain sprite, found only on the island of

  Roti, Maddox said.

  I like the little ones, Kendra said.

  A more common variety-they haunt the Malaysian

  Peninsula, Maddox said.

  They’re so fast, Kendra said. Why don’t they

  escape?

  Catching a fairy renders her powerless, Maddox said.

  Keep her in a cage, or a sealed room, like this one, and her

  magic cannot be used to escape. While under confinement

  they become fairly docile and obedient.

  Kendra frowned. How does Grandpa know they will

  stay in his garden if he buys them?

  Maddox winked at Grandpa. Gets right to the point,

  this one. He turned back to Kendra. Fairies are highly

  territorial, nonmigratory creatures. Put them in a livable

  environment and they stay put. Especially an environment

  like Fablehaven, with gardens and plentiful food and other

  enchanted critters.

  I’m sure I can find a trade for the fountain sprite,

  Grandpa said. The Banda Sea sunwings are beautiful as

  well. We can work out the particulars later.

  Maddox slapped the side of the crate and the fairies

  returned. The ones with the stained-glass wings took their

  time, drifting lazily. The little ones zoomed in. The fountain

  sprite floated up to a high corner of the room. Maddox

  patted the side of the crate again and spat a stern command

  in a language Kendra did not understand. The fuzzy fairy

  glided into the container.

  Next we have some albino nightgrifters from Borneo.

  Out of a case flew three milky white fairies, their mothlike

  wings peppered with flecks of black.

  Maddox proceeded to display several other groups of

  distinctive fairies. Then he began showing fairies one at a

  time. Kendra found a couple of them disgusting. One had

  thorny wings and a tail. Another was reptilian, covered in

  scales. Maddox displayed its chameleonic ability to match

  different backgrounds.

  Now for my big find, Maddox said, rubbing his hands

  together. I captured this little lady in an oasis deep in the

  Gobi Desert. I’ve only seen one other of her kind. Could

  we dim the lights?

  Dale jumped up and shut the lights off.

  What is she? Grandpa asked.

  In answer, Maddox opened the final case. Out soared a