Fablehaven1-Fablehaven

by Brandon Mull

  story.

  Still, Newel said, a guy has to eat, and free stew is

  free stew.

  We’ll try to find a way to repay you, Kendra said.

  So will we, Newel said.

  You don’t happen to have any… batteries? Doren

  asked.

  Batteries? Seth asked, wrinkling his nose.

  Size C, Newel clarified.

  Kendra folded her arms. Why do you want batteries?

  They’re shiny, Newel said, nudging Doren with an

  elbow.

  We worship them, Doren said, nodding sagely. They

  seem like little gods to us.

  The kids stared at the goatmen in disbelief, unsure how

  to continue the conversation. They were obviously lying.

  Okay, Newel said. We have a portable television.

  Don’t tell Stan.

  We had a mountain of batteries, but we ran out.

  And our supplier is no longer employed here.

  We could work out an arrangement. Newel spread his

  hands diplomatically. Some batteries to repent for disrupting

  our stew siphoning-

  Then we can trade for more. Gold, booze, you name

  it. Doren lowered his voice slightly. Of course, we would

  need to keep our arrangement private.

  Stan doesn’t like us watching the tube, said Newel.

  You know our Grandpa? Seth asked.

  Who doesn’t? Newel said.

  You haven’t seen him lately? Kendra asked.

  Sure, just last week, Doren said.

  I mean since last night.

  No, why? Newel said.

  Haven’t you heard? Seth asked.

  The satyrs shrugged at each other. What’s the news?

  Newel asked.

  Our Grandpa was kidnapped last night, Kendra said.

  Your grandfather is a kid? Newel said.

  They mean he was abducted, Doren clarified.

  Kendra nodded. Creatures got into the house and took

  him and our housekeeper.

  Not Dale? Doren asked.

  We don’t think so, Seth said.

  Newel shook his head. Poor Dale. Never been very popular.

  Lousy sense of humor, Doren agreed. Too quiet.

  You guys don’t know who might have taken them?

  Kendra asked.

  On Midsummer Eve? Newel said, tossing up his

  hands. Anybody. Your guess would be better than mine.

  Could you help us find him? Seth asked.

  The satyrs shared an uneasy glance. Yeah, ouch,

  Newel began uncomfortably, this is a bad week for us.

  Lots of commitments, Doren confirmed, backing

  away.

  You know, now that I’ve thought on it, Newel said, we

  may have needed a new rigging on the chimney anyhow.

  How about we go our separate ways and call it even?

  Don’t take anything we said to heart, Doren said.

  We were just being satirical.

  Seth stepped forward. Do you know something you

  aren’t telling us?

  It isn’t that, Newel said, continuing his slow retreat.

  It’s just Midsummer Day. We’re booked.

  Thanks for helping us get away from the ogress,

  Kendra said.

  Our pleasure, Newel replied.

  All part of the package, Doren added.

  Could you guys at least point us toward home? Seth

  asked.

  The satyrs stopped retreating. Doren extended an arm.

  There’s a path over there.

  When you reach it, go right, Newel said.

  That will get you started in the right direction.

  Give our best to Stan when he turns up.

  The satyrs hastily turned and dashed off into the trees.

  Chapter Twelve

  Inside the Barn

  Kendra and Seth located the path just as the satyrs had

  instructed, and soon reencountered the nickel-sized

  holes that served as a perfect trail of breadcrumbs toward

  home. Those goat guys were idiots, Seth said.

  They did save us from the ogress, Kendra reminded

  him.

  They could have helped us rescue Grandpa but they

  blew us off. He wore a scowl as they continued along the

  path.

  As they neared the yard, they heard the inhuman groan

  again, the same sound they had heard while exiting the

  basement, only louder than ever. They halted. The perplexing

  sound was coming from up ahead. A long, plaintive

  moan, comparable to a blast from a foghorn.

  Seth dug some of the remaining salt out of a pocket and

  rushed ahead. With their quickened pace, they were soon

  back at the edge of the yard. Everything appeared normal.

  They saw no hulking behemoth capable of the enormous

  sound they had heard.

  You know, that salt didn’t do much to the satyr,

  Kendra whispered.

  It probably only burns the bad creatures, he replied.

  I think the ogre lady picked some up.

  It was all mixed in the dirt by then. You saw it torch

  those guys last night.

  They waited, hesitant to enter the yard. Now what?

  Kendra asked.

  The mighty groan resounded across the yard, nearer

  and louder. The shingles on the barn rattled.

  It’s coming from the barn, Seth said.

  We never looked there! Kendra said.

  I didn’t think about it.

  The monstrous groan blared a third time. The barn

  shuddered. Birds flew up from the eaves.

  You think something took Grandpa and Lena to the

  barn? Kendra said.

  Sounds like it’s still there.

  Grandpa told us never to enter the barn.

  I think I’m already grounded, Seth said.

  No, I mean what if he keeps ferocious creatures in

  there? It might have nothing to do with his disappearance.

  It’s our best chance. Where else are we going to look?

  We have no other clues. The tracks were a dead end. At

  least we should try to get a peek inside.

  Seth started for the barn, with Kendra following reluctantly

  behind. The towering structure rose a good five stories

  tall, topped by a weather vane in the shape of a bull.

  Kendra had never studied it for entrances until now. She

  noted the obvious set of large double doors in the front,

  along with some smaller access doors along the side.

  The barn creaked and then started shaking as if there

  were an earthquake. The sound of timbers splitting filled

  the air, followed by another mournful moan.

  Seth glanced back at Kendra. Something huge was in

  there. A few moments later the barn grew still.

  Chains and a heavy padlock bound the double doors in

  front, so Seth moved along the side of the building, quietly

  trying the smaller doors. All were locked. The barn had

  several windows, but the lowest were three stories off the

  ground.

  They stealthily circled the entire building, finding no

  doors unlocked. There weren’t even any cracks or peepholes.

  Grandpa sealed this place up tight, Kendra

  whispered.

  We may have to make some noise to get inside, Seth

  said. He started circling the building again.

  I’m not sure that would be smart.

  I’ll wait until the barn starts shaking again. Seth sat

  down in front of a small door, little more than three feet

  high. Minutes passed.


  Think it knows we’re waiting? Kendra asked.

  You’re just bad luck.

  Stop saying that.

  A fairy glided over near them. Seth tried to shoo it

  away. Get out of here. The fairy effortlessly dodged his

  shooing motions. The more vigorously he waved her away,

  the closer she came.

  Stop it, you’re just egging her on, Kendra said.

  I’m sick of fairies.

  Then ignore her and maybe she’ll leave.

  He stopped paying attention to the fairy. She came up

  right behind his head. When the proximity earned no reaction,

  the fairy landed on his head. Seth slapped at her,

  missing as she wove around his intended blows. Just when

  he jumped to his feet to chase her, the booming groan

  came again. The little door trembled.

  Seth plopped back down and started ramming the door

  with both feet. The moaning muffled most of the impact’s

  noise. On the fifth kick, the edge of the little door split and

  swung open.

  Seth rolled away from the opening, and Kendra stepped

  aside as well. Digging in his pockets, Seth withdrew the

  remnants of his salt. Want some? he mouthed.

  Kendra accepted some salt. A second or two later, the

  deafening moaning ceased. Seth gestured for Kendra to

  wait. He crept through the small door. Kendra waited,

  squeezing the salt in her palm.

  Seth reappeared in the opening wearing an inscrutable

  expression. You have to see this, he said.

  What?

  Don’t worry. Come look.

  Kendra ducked through the little doorway. The enormous

  barn contained just one cavernous room with a few

  closets around the perimeter. The entire room was dominated

  by a single gigantic cow.

  Not what I expected, Kendra murmured in disbelief.

  She gawked at the colossal bovine in amazement. The

  huge head was up near the rafters, forty or fifty feet in the

  air. A hayloft spanning an entire side of the building served

  as a feedbox. The cow’s hooves were the size of hot tubs.

  The tremendous udder was absolutely bulging. Milk beaded

  and dripped from teats almost the size of punching bags.

  The gargantuan cow cocked its head, staring down at

  the newcomers to the barn. It let out a long moo, making

  the barn shake simply by shifting its stance.

  Holy cow, Kendra muttered.

  You can say that again. I doubt Grandpa will be running

  out of milk anytime soon.

  We’re friends, Kendra called up to the cow. The cow

  tossed its head and began munching from the hayloft.

  Why haven’t we heard this thing before? Seth

  wondered.

  She probably never moos. I think she’s in pain,

  Kendra observed. See how swollen the udder looks? I bet

  it could fill a swimming pool.

  Seriously.

  Somebody probably milks her every morning.

  And nobody did today, said Seth.

  They stood and stared. The cow continued munching

  from the hayloft. Seth pointed at the back of the barn.

  Look at the manure!

  Sick!

  The world’s biggest cow pie!

  You would notice that.

  The cow let out another bellowing complaint, the most

  insistent so far. They clamped their hands over their ears

  until the lowing stopped.

  We probably should try to milk her, Kendra said.

  How are we supposed to do that! Seth cried.

  There has to be a way. They must do it all the time.

  We can’t even reach her thingies.

  I bet that cow could tear this place apart if she wanted.

  I mean, look at her! She keeps getting more upset. Her

  udder looks like it’s about to burst. Who knows what kind

  of powers she has. Her milk lets people see fairies. The last

  thing we need is a giant magical cow running around loose.

  It could be total mayhem.

  Folding his arms, Seth surveyed the task. This is

  impossible.

  We need to search the closets. Maybe they have special

  tools.

  What about Grandpa?

  We’re out of leads, said Kendra. If we don’t milk this

  cow, we could end up with a new disaster on our hands.

  In the closets they found a variety of tools and equipment,

  but no obvious gear for milking gargantuan

  cows. There were empty barrels all around, in and out of

  closets, which Kendra figured must be used for catching

  milk. In one closet Kendra found a couple of A-frame

  ladders. These might be all we need, she said.

  How do we even get our hands around those things?

  We don’t.

  There has to be a gigantic milking machine, Seth

  said.

  I’m not seeing anything like that. But it might work if

  we just hug and drop.

  Are you nuts?

  Why not? Kendra said, motioning between the teats

  and the floor. It isn’t that far from the nipples to the

  ground.

  We’re not trying to use barrels?

  No, we can waste the milk. Barrels would get in the

  way. We just need to relieve the pressure.

  What if she steps on us?

  She hardly has any room to move. If we stay under the

  udder, we’ll be fine.

  They dragged the ladders into position, one beside each

  of two teats on the same side of the mammoth cow. They

  climbed the ladders. Only by standing one rung from the

  top were they high enough to grip the teat near the udder.

  Seth stood waiting while Kendra tried to get into position.

  These feel wobbly, she said.

  Balance.

  She hesitantly stood upright. It felt a lot higher than it

  had looked from the ground. You ready?

  No. I bet this barn will hold her.

  We have to at least try.

  Hug the thingy and slide down? Seth asked.

  We’ll trade off, you, then me, then you, then me.

  Then we’ll do the other side.

  How about you start it?

  You’re better at this sort of stuff, Kendra said.

  That’s true, I milk a lot of giant cows. I’ll show you my

  trophies sometime.

  Seriously, you start, urged Kendra.

  What if it hurts her?

  I don’t think we’re big enough. I’m more worried that

  we’re not going to be able to get any out.

  So I should squeeze as hard as I can, Seth confirmed.

  Sure.

  Once I do it, you’ll do it, and we’ll just keep going as

  fast as we can.

  And if I ever find a giant cow milking trophy, I’ll buy

  it for you, Kendra offered.

  I’d rather we kept it our little secret. You ready?

  Go for it.

  Hesitantly Seth placed a hand against the huge teat.

  The cow mooed, and he recoiled, crouching and grabbing

  the ladder with both hands to steady himself. Kendra tried

  to stay balanced as she laughed. Finally the foghorn moo

  ended.

  I changed my mind, Seth said.

  I’ll count to three, said Kendra.

  You go first or I’m not doing it. I almost fell and wet

  my pants at the same time.

  One… two… three!

  Seth stepped off the
ladder, embracing the teat. He slid

  down it and fell to the floor along with an impressive jet of

  milk. Kendra stepped off and hugged the teat as well. Even

  with her holding tightly, it slid through her embrace faster

  than she expected. She hit the floor with warm milk

  already soaking her jeans.

  Seth was on his way back up the ladder. I’m already

  disgusted, he said, stepping off and sliding down again.

  This time he kept his feet when he landed. Kendra went up

  and slid down again. Hugging as hard as she could, she

  descended a little more slowly, but still fell over when she

  hit the floor. Already milk was everywhere.

  Soon they fell into a rhythm, both of them landing on

  their feet most of the time. The engorged udder hung low,

  and they got better at using the teat-hug to control their

  fall. Milk gushed copiously. While they were sliding, the

  teats sprayed like fire hoses. It must have been at least seventy

  jumps each before the output began to slacken.

  Other side, Kendra gasped, breathing hard.

  My arms are dead, Seth complained.

  We have to hurry.

  They scooted the ladders over and repeated the process.

  Kendra tried to pretend she was on a surreal playground,

  where the kids waded in milk instead of sand and slid down

  thick, meaty poles.

  Kendra focused on climbing the ladder and landing as

  lightly as possible. She worried that if either action became

  routine, she could have a bad accident, spraining an ankle,

  breaking a bone, or worse.

  At the first sign that the flow of milk was slackening,

  they collapsed in exhaustion, not worried about lying in

  milk because their clothes and hair were already drenched.

  Both of them gulped air desperately. Kendra put a hand to

  her neck. My heart is beating like a jackhammer.

  I thought I was going to puke, that was so foul, complained

  Seth.

  I’m more tired than sick.

  Think about it. You’re dripping with warm, raw milk

  while your face rubs down a cow nipple about a hundred

  times.

  More than that.

  We doused the whole barn, Seth said. I’m never

  drinking milk again.

  I’m never going to the playground, Kendra vowed.

  What?

  Hard to explain.

  Seth scanned the area under the cow. The floor has

  drains, but I don’t think much of the milk is going down.

  I saw a hose. I doubt the cow would like milk rotting

  all over the place. Kendra sat up and squeezed milk out of

  her hair. That was the best workout I ever had. I’m dead.