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
