by Brandon Mull
stone shelf near the mouth of the cave. Nero stretched out
on the shelf, and Grandma showed Kendra and Seth how
to massage his legs and feet. She demonstrated how and
where to use their knuckles and the heels of their hands.
He’s very strong, she said, grinding her knuckles
against the bottom of his foot. Lean into it as much as you
want. She set down his leg and stood beside his head.
The children have their instructions, Nero. The ninety
minutes start now.
Kendra hesitantly laid her hands on the troll’s bulging
calf. Although they were not wet, the scales felt slimy. She
had held a snake before, and the texture of Nero’s scaly
skin was quite similar.
With Nero lying prone, Grandma went to work on the
back of his neck and shoulders. She employed a variety of
techniques-probing with her thumbs, rubbing with her
palms, pressing with her fists, digging with her elbows. She
ended up kneeling on the small of his back, careful to avoid
the spikes along his spine, squeezing and kneading and
applying pressure in diverse ways.
Nero was obviously in ecstasy. He purred and moaned
in decadent satisfaction. A constant stream of drowsy compliments
flowed from his lips. He languidly encouraged
them to rub harder and deeper.
Kendra grew weary, and Grandma periodically demonstrated
other techniques for her and Seth to employ.
Kendra despised working on Nero’s feet the most, from the
roughness of his cracked heels, to the smooth pads of his
calluses, to the lumpy bunions on his toes. But she tried her
best to follow Grandma’s tireless example. Besides assisting
with his legs and feet, Grandma labored on his head, neck,
shoulders, back, arms, hands, chest, and abdomen.
When they finally finished, Nero sat up with a
euphoric smile. All the cunning had vanished from his bulbous
eyes. He looked ready for the most satisfying nap of
his life.
Closer to a hundred minutes, Grandma said. But I
wanted to do it right.
Thank you, he said giddily. I never imagined something
like that. He got to his feet, leaning against the wall
of the cliff to steady himself. You have amply earned your
reward.
I’ve never felt anyone so full of knots and tension,
Grandma said.
I feel loose now, he said, swinging his arms. I will be
right back with the information you seek. Nero ducked
into the cave.
I want to see his magic stone, Seth mumbled.
Wait patiently, Grandma chided, wiping perspiration
from her brow.
You must be exhausted, Kendra said.
I’m not in very good condition, Grandma admitted.
That took a lot out of me. She lowered her voice. But it
sure beats barrels of treasure that we don’t have.
Seth wandered over to the brink of the ledge and stared
down into the ravine. Grandma took a seat on the shelf
where they had administered the massage, and Kendra
waited beside her.
Before long, Nero emerged. He still looked affable and
relaxed, though not quite as loopy as before. Stan is
chained in the basement of the Forgotten Chapel.
Grandma’s jaw tightened. You’re sure?
It was a little tricky finding him and sneaking a good
look, considering who else is confined there, but yes, I am
certain.
He’s well?
He’s alive.
Lena was with him?
The naiad? Sure, I saw her too.
Was Muriel in the vicinity?
Muriel? Why would she… oh, that’s what that was!
Ruth, the agreement was for a single piece of information.
But no, I didn’t catch sight of her. I believe this concludes
our arrangement. He gestured toward the ladder. If you
will excuse me, I need to lie down.
The Far Side of the Attic
Grandma refused to talk while they were in the ravine.
She wore a dour, thoughtful expression and hushed
any attempts at conversation. Kendra waited until they
were back on the path beside the covered bridge to try her
question again.
Grandma- Kendra began.
Not here, Grandma admonished. We must not discuss
the situation out in the open. She motioned for them
to huddle close and continued in a hushed tone. Let this
suffice. We must go after your grandpa today. Tomorrow
might be too late. We will return home immediately, get
equipped, and go to the place where he is being held. I will
reveal his exact whereabouts once we are indoors. Muriel
may not yet know his location, and even if she does, I don’t
want her to learn that we know.
Grandma stopped whispering and hurried them along
the path. Sorry if I have been antisocial since leaving
Nero, she said after they had walked in silence for a couple
of minutes. I needed to devise a plan. You kids really did
an exceptional job back there. Nobody should have to
spend an afternoon rubbing a troll’s feet. Seth was heroic
on the logs, and Kendra did some well-timed bluffing during
the negotiations. You both surpassed my expectations.
I never knew you were a masseuse, Kendra said.
I learned from Lena. She has collected expert instruction
from around the globe. If you ever get a chance to
receive a massage from her, don’t turn it down. Grandma
tucked some errant strands of hair behind her ear. She
became distant again for a moment, pursing her lips and
staring remotely as she walked. I have a few questions for
you two, things we can talk about in the open. Have you
met a man named Warren?
Warren? Seth repeated.
Handsome and quiet? White hair and skin? Dale’s
brother.
No, Kendra said.
They might have brought him to the house on
Midsummer Eve, Grandma prodded.
We were with Grandpa, Dale, and Lena until after
sundown, but never saw anybody else, Seth said.
I never even heard him mentioned, Kendra added.
Me neither, Seth agreed.
Grandma nodded. He must have stayed at the cabin.
Have you met Hugo?
Yeah! Seth said. He’s awesome. I wonder where he
went?
Grandma gave Seth a measuring glance. I trust he has
been attending to his chores in the barn.
I don’t think so, Kendra said. We had to milk the
cow yesterday.
You milked Viola? Grandma said, plainly astonished.
How?
Kendra described how they had set up the ladders and
slid down her teats. Seth added details about how milky
they had gotten.
Resourceful children! Grandma said. Stan had told
you nothing about her?
We found her because she was mooing so loud, Seth
said. She was shaking the whole barn.
It looked like her udder was going to explode, Kendra
said.
Viola is our milch cow, Grandma said. Every preserve
has such an animal, though not all are bovine. She is
older than thi
s preserve, which was founded in 1711. At
that time, she was brought over from Europe by ship. Born
from a milch cow on a preserve in the Pyrenees Mountains,
she was about 100 years old when she made the voyage,
and was already larger than an elephant. She has been here
ever since, gradually gaining size each year.
Looks like she’s about to outgrow the barn, Seth said.
Her growth has slowed over the years, but yes, she may
one day become too colossal for her current confines.
She provides the milk the fairies drink, Kendra said.
More than the fairies drink it. Her ancient breed is
nourished and worshipped by all creatures of fairydom.
They place daily enchantments on her food and make
secret offerings to honor and strengthen her. In return, her
milk functions as an ambrosia central to their survival. It is
no wonder that cows are still considered sacred in certain
parts of the world.
She must make tons of dung, Seth said.
Another blessing. Her manure is the finest fertilizer in
the world, coaxing plants to mature much more quickly
than usual and sometimes to reach incredible proportions.
By the power of her dung we can reap multiple harvests
from a field in a season, and many tropical plants flourish
on this property that would otherwise perish. Did you kids
happen to put milk out for the fairies?
No, Seth said. We spilled it all down the drain. We
were mainly trying to calm down the cow.
No matter. The absence of milk might make the fairies
a little ornery, but they’ll get over it. We’ll see they get
some tomorrow at the latest.
So normally Hugo milks Viola, Kendra surmised.
Correct. It is a standing order, so there must be a reason
he has not carried it out during the past couple of days.
You have not seen him since Midsummer Eve?
No.
He was probably assigned to watch over Warren and
the cabin until summoned. He should come if we call.
Could something have happened to him? Seth asked.
A golem may seem like little more than animated
matter granted elementary intelligence, but most creatures
on this preserve fear Hugo. Few could harm him if they
tried. He will be our chief ally in rescuing your grandfather.
What about Warren? Kendra asked. Will he help
too?
Grandma frowned. You have not met him because his
mind has been ruined. Dale has remained on this preserve
mainly in order to care for him. Warren is lost in a catatonic
stupor. Fablehaven has many stories. His is another
tragic tale of a mortal venturing where he did not belong.
Warren will be no help to us.
Anybody else? Seth asked. Like the satyrs?
Satyrs? Grandma exclaimed. When have you met
satyrs? I may have some choice words for your grandfather
when we find him.
We met them by accident in the woods, Kendra
assured her. We were taking stew from what looked like a
well, and they warned us that we were actually stealing
from an ogress.
Those rogues were protecting their underhanded operation
more than you, Grandma huffed. They have been
pilfering her stew for years. The scoundrels didn’t want to
have to rebuild their thieving device-probably sounded
too much like work. Satyrs live for frivolity. The ultimate
fair-weather friends. Your grandfather and I share a mutual
respect with various beings on this preserve, but there is
not much more loyalty than one would find out in the
wild. The herd looks on as the sick or injured are brought
down by predators. If your grandfather is to be rescued on
such short notice, it will be our doing, with none but Hugo
to aid us.
* * * *
It was late afternoon when they reached the yard.
Grandma stood with her hands on her hips, taking in the
scene. The ruined tree house. The damaged furniture
strewn about the garden. The gaping, glassless windows.
I’m afraid to go inside, she muttered.
You don’t remember how bad it is? Kendra asked.
She was a chicken, remember? Seth said. We ate her
eggs.
Creases appeared on Grandma’s brow. It feels like such
a betrayal to have your home violated, she said softly. I
know sinister evils lurk in the woods, but they have never
crossed that boundary.
Kendra and Seth followed Grandma across the yard
and up the porch steps. Grandma stooped and picked up a
copper triangle, attaching it to a hook hanging from a nail.
Kendra remembered noticing the triangle dangling among
the wind chimes. A short copper rod was linked to the
triangle by a chain of beads. Grandma clanged the rod
noisily around the inside of the triangle.
That should bring Hugo, Grandma explained. She
crossed the porch and paused in the doorway, staring into
her home. It looks like we were bombed, she murmured.
Such senseless vandalism!
She roamed the gutted house in a somber daze, occasionally
pausing to pick up a damaged frame and examine
the torn photograph inside or to run her hand along the
remnants of a beloved piece of furniture. Grandma climbed
the stairs and went to her room. Kendra and Seth watched
her rummage through the closet, finally withdrawing a
metal lunch box.
At least this is intact, Grandma said.
Hungry? Seth asked.
Kendra slapped him on the shoulder with the back of
her hand. What is it, Grandma?
Follow me.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Grandma opened the lunch
box. She removed a handful of photographs. Help me lay
these out.
The photos were of the house. Each room was shown
from several angles. The exterior was also displayed from
multiple perspectives. In total there were more than a hundred
pictures. Grandma and the children began spreading
them across the kitchen floor.
We took these pictures in case the unthinkable ever
occurred, Grandma said.
Kendra suddenly made the connection. For the
brownies?
Clever girl, said Grandma. I’m not sure whether
they will be up to the challenge, considering the extent of
the damage, but they have worked miracles in the past. I’m
sorry this calamity befell us during your stay.
You shouldn’t be, Seth said. It happened because of
me.
You mustn’t assume all the blame, Grandma insisted.
What else can we do? Kendra said We caused it.
Kendra didn’t do anything, Seth said. She tried to
stop me. The whole thing is my fault.
Grandma regarded Seth pensively. You did not mean
to harm Grandpa. Yes, you made him vulnerable through
your disobedience. As I understand, you were commanded
not to look out the window. Had you heeded the order, you
would not have been tempted to open the window, and
your grandfather would not have been taken. You must face
that fact, and learn from it.
/> But the full blame for Stan’s predicament is considerably
more guilt than you deserve. Your grandfather and I
are the caretakers of this estate. We are responsible for the
actions of those we bring here, especially children. Stan
allowed you to come here to do your parents a favor, but
also because we need to start selectively sharing this secret
with our posterity. We will not be around forever.
The secret was shared with us, and a day came when the
responsibility of this enchanted refuge fell on our shoulders.
One day we will have to pass the responsibility on to
others.
She took Seth and Kendra by the hands and fixed
them with a loving gaze. I know the mistakes you made
were not deliberate or malicious. Your grandfather and I
have made plenty of mistakes ourselves. So have all the
people who ever lived here, no matter how wise or cautious.
Your grandfather must share the blame for placing
you children in a situation where opening a window with
kind intentions could cause such harm and destruction.
And clearly the fiends who abducted him are ultimately
the most culpable.
Kendra and Seth were silent. Seth scrunched up his
face. If it wasn’t for me, Grandpa would be fine right now,
he said, fighting hard not to cry.
And I would still be a chicken in a cage, Grandma
said. Let’s worry about fixing the problem instead of the
blame. Don’t despair. I know we can set things right. Take
me to Dale.
Seth nodded, sniffing and rubbing his forearm across
his nose. He led the way across the back porch, weaving
through the garden toward their destination.
There really aren’t many fairies, Grandma said. I’ve
never seen the yard so devoid of life.
There haven’t been many around ever since they
attacked Seth, Kendra said. Since Grandpa vanished
there have been even fewer.
When they stood over the painted, life-size metal
statue of Dale, Grandma shook her head. I’ve never seen
this particular enchantment, but that’s certainly Dale.
Can you help him? Kendra asked.
Perhaps, given sufficient time. Part of counteracting
an enchantment is understanding who placed it, and how.
We found tracks, Seth said. He showed Grandma the
print in the flowerbed. Although the impression had faded
a bit, it remained recognizable.
Grandma frowned. It doesn’t look familiar. Many creatures
run wild on festival nights that we otherwise never
encounter-which is why we take cover indoors. The print
