[Fablehaven 02] - Rise of the Evening Star

by Brandon Mull - (ebook by Undead)

  Some distance down the hall, Grandma stopped at a door carved out of blood-red wood. “This leads to the Hall of Dread. We don’t ever open it. The prisoners in those cells need no food.” As they continued down the hall, Seth’s eyes lingered on the door.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Kendra whispered.

  “What?” he said. “I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

  The hall angled to the left again. Grandma shone the flashlight into a doorless room where a cauldron bubbled over a low fire. A pair of goblins squinted and held up their long, narrow hands against the light. Short, bony, and greenish, they had beady eyes and batwing ears. One balanced on a three-legged stool, stirring the foul-smelling contents of the cauldron with what looked like an oar. The other grimaced and cringed.

  “Introduce yourselves to my grandchildren,” Grandma said, shining the flashlight away from them so it illuminated them indirectly.

  “Voorsh,” said the one stirring the cauldron.

  “Slaggo,” said the other.

  Grandma turned and continued down the corridor. “The food smells awful,” Kendra said.

  “Most of our guests rather like glop,” Grandma said. “Humans aren’t normally fond of it.”

  “Do any of the prisoners ever get released?” Seth inquired.

  “The majority are serving life sentences,” Grandma said. “For many mystical creatures, that is a very long time. Because of the treaty, we have no death penalty for captured enemies. As you may recall, under most circumstances, to kill on Fablehaven property is to destroy all protection afforded you by the treaty and render yourself so vulnerable to retaliation that the only option is to depart and never return. But certain offenders cannot be permitted to roam free. Hence the dungeon. Some lesser offenders are kept here for prescribed periods of time and then released. For example, we have a former groundskeeper imprisoned here for selling batteries to satyrs.”

  Seth compressed his lips.

  “How long is his sentence?” Kendra prodded.

  “Fifty years. By the time he gets out, he’ll be in his eighties.”

  Seth stopped walking. “Are you serious?”

  Grandma grinned. “No. Kendra mentioned you were planning on doing a little business while you were here.”

  “Way to keep a secret!” Seth accused.

  “I never said I would,” Kendra replied.

  “She was right to tell me,” Grandma said. “She wanted to make sure it wouldn’t endanger you or the preserve. It should be all right, if you keep it simple. Just don’t leave the yard. And don’t let your grandpa know. He’s a purist. Tries hard to keep technology off the grounds.”

  As they progressed down the long corridor, they passed a couple of hallways that branched off. At the third, Grandma paused, seemingly deliberating. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

  The hall had no cell doors. It was the narrowest passage they had seen. At the end was a circular room, and in the center of the room was a metal hatch in the floor. “This is our oubliette,” Grandma said. “There is a cell at the bottom for a most dangerous prisoner. A jinn.”

  “Like a genie?” Kendra asked.

  “Yes,” Grandma said.

  “Sweet! Does he grant wishes?” Seth asked.

  “Theoretically,” Grandma said. “True jinn are not much like the genies you have heard of in stories, though they are the entities through which the myths arose. They are powerful, and some, like our prisoner, are cunning and evil. I have something to confess.”

  Kendra and Seth waited quietly.

  “Your grandfather and I were very distraught over what happened to Warren. I took to conversing with the jinn, opening the hatch and calling down to him from up here. As our prisoner, his powers are curtailed, so I did not fear he would escape. I became convinced he could cure Warren. And he probably could have. I talked it over with Stan, and we decided it was worth a try.

  “I studied all I could on the subject of bargaining with jinn. If you obey certain rules, you can negotiate with a captured jinn, but you have to take care what you say. In order to open negotiations, you must make yourself vulnerable. They get to ask you three questions, which you must answer fully and with absolute truthfulness. After you answer the questions honestly, the jinn will grant you a favor. If you lie, they are set free and gain power over you. If you fail to answer, they remain captive but get to exact a penalty.

  “The one question they are not permitted to ask is your given name, which you must never let them learn by other means. Before asking the formal three questions, the jinn can try to persuade you to agree to a bargain other than the traditional answering of three questions. The petitioner can only wait patiently and speak carefully, because every word you utter to a jinn is binding.

  “To make a long story short, I entered the oubliette, with Stan standing watch, and the jinn and I negotiated. It makes me angry thinking about it — the jinn was so devious. He could have talked the devil into attending church. I was out of my depth. The jinn haggled and flattered and cleverly sought hints to what questions he should ask. He offered many alternatives to the questions, several of which were tempting compromises, but I detected traps in all his propositions. We exchanged offers and counteroffers. His ultimate goal was clearly to secure his freedom, which I could not allow.

  “After our conversation had consumed many hours, and I had revealed more about myself than I liked, he finally quit dickering and proceeded to the questions. Stan had spent days changing passwords and other Fablehaven protocols so that I knew nothing vital to our security. I had thought through all the questions he could pose, and felt prepared to answer anything. He used his first question to inquire what he could ask that I would be unwilling to answer. As you may imagine, I had anticipated a question like this, and had prepared myself to be able to respond that I would freely answer any possible question. But in the moment of his asking, perhaps called to my remembrance by some power that permeated the proceedings, I realized a piece of information that I could not reveal, and so chose not to answer the question. It was all I could do to prevent him from being set free. Consequently, I opened myself to retaliation. He couldn’t kill me, but he did turn me into a chicken.”

  “That’s how you became a chicken!” Seth exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Grandma said.

  “What was the secret you couldn’t reveal?” Seth asked.

  “Something I cannot share,” Grandma said.

  “The jinn is still down there,” Kendra said softly, gazing at the hatch.

  Grandma started walking back the way they had come. Kendra and Seth followed. “The hatch to the oubliette requires three keys and a word to open it,” Grandma said. “At least one living person must know the word that opens the hatch, or the spell is broken and the prisoner freed. If any of the keys are destroyed, the same happens. Otherwise, I would melt the keys and never tell the word to anyone.”

  “What’s the word?” Seth asked.

  “It’s two words,” Kendra said. “Dream on.”

  “Kendra’s right. Perhaps one day you’ll be ready for that sort of responsibility.” Grandma patted him on the back. “But probably not before I’m long gone.”

  They returned to the main corridor and followed it until it turned left again. Grandma stopped at a floor-to-ceiling alcove and shone the flashlight on a strange cabinet. A bit taller than a person, it looked like the kind of box a magician would use to make people vanish. Fashioned out of glossy black wood with gold trim, the cabinet was simple and elegant.

  “This is the Quiet Box,” Grandma said. “It is much more durable than any cell in the entire dungeon. It holds only a single prisoner, but it always holds a single prisoner. The only way to get the captive out is to put another in.”

  “Who’s in there?” Seth asked.

  “We don’t know,” Grandma said. “The Quiet Box was brought here when Fablehaven was founded, and was already occupied. Word has been passed down from caretaker to care
taker never to open it. So we leave it be.”

  Grandma proceeded down the hall. Kendra stayed near her, while Seth lingered in front of the Quiet Box. After a moment, he hurried to catch up. Near the final elbow of the hall, the one that would complete the square, Grandma paused at a seemingly random cell door. “Seth, you said you wanted to see a prisoner. There is the imp who injured your grandfather.”

  She shone the flashlight through the little window in the door. Kendra and Seth crowded close to see. The imp stared at them coldly, frowning. He stood nearly as tall as Dale. A short pair of antlers jutted from his brow. Leathery skin sheathed long, muscular limbs. Kendra had seen many imps. Too bad this one had not been changed back into a fairy like the others.

  “Go ahead, shine your light, you have no idea the doom hanging over you,” the imp snarled.

  “What do you mean?” Kendra asked. Grandma and Seth both looked at her strangely. The imp was staring at her. “What?” Kendra said.

  “No light will stave off the coming darkness,” the imp said, eyes on Kendra.

  “What darkness?” Kendra replied.

  The imp made a choking sound and looked astonished.

  “Can you understand his speech?” Grandma asked in wonder.

  “Can’t you?” Kendra said. “He’s speaking English.”

  Grandma put a hand to her lips. “No, he’s speaking Goblush, the tongue of imps and goblins.”

  “You understand me, Stinkface?” the imp tested.

  “Is this a joke?” Kendra asked.

  “Because I understand you,” the imp said.

  “I’ve been speaking English,” Kendra said.

  “Yes,” Grandma agreed.

  “No,” the imp said. “Goblush.”

  “He says I’m speaking Goblush,” Kendra said.

  “You are,” the imp said.

  “That must be what he hears,” Grandma said.

  “You don’t understand him?” Kendra asked Seth.

  “You know how imps sound,” Seth said. “No words, just growls and snorts.”

  “What are they saying?” the imp asked. “Tell them I’m going to cook their insides on a stick.”

  “He’s saying gross things,” Kendra said.

  “Say nothing more,” Grandma said. “Let’s get you away from here.”

  Grandma hurried them down the hall. The imp called after them: “Kendra, you don’t have long to live. Sleep on that. I’ll be out of here before you know it. I’m going to dance on your grave! On all your graves!”

  Kendra whirled. “Well, you’ll be dancing alone, you ugly wart! All the rest of your kind got changed back into fairies, and they’re beautiful and happy. And you’re still a deformed freak! You should hear them laugh at you! Enjoy your glop!”

  Silence. And then the sound of something slamming against the cell door, followed by guttural snarling. Knobby fingers protruded from the bars of the small window in the door. “Come along,” Grandma said, tugging Kendra’s sleeve. “He’s just trying to upset you.”

  “How can I understand him?” Kendra asked. “The fairies?”

  “It must be,” Grandma said, walking swiftly. “We should have more answers tomorrow. Your grandfather got through to the Sphinx this morning and set up a meeting for tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Me too?” Seth asked.

  “Both of you,” Grandma said. “But keep it between us and your grandfather. We want everyone else to think we’re going on an outing into town. They don’t know that the Sphinx is currently nearby.”

  “Sure,” Kendra said.

  “What was the imp saying?” Seth asked.

  “That he was going to dance on our graves,” Kendra said.

  Seth spun around and cupped his hands beside his mouth like a megaphone. “Only if they bury us in your cruddy cell,” he yelled. He glanced at Grandma. “Think he heard me?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Coulter

  “He’s not here,” Seth said, checking his wristwatch.

  “He’ll be here soon,” Kendra said.

  They sat together on a stone bench at the edge of an oval section of lawn with a marble birdbath near the center. The sun had not been up long, but the day was already getting warm. A cluster of fairies played among the blossoms of a nearby shrub. Others hovered over the birdbath, admiring their reflections.

  “The fairies haven’t been very friendly lately,” Seth said.

  Kendra scratched her temple. “They probably just need their space.”

  “They were so friendly before we left last summer, after you led them against Bahumat.”

  “They were probably just extra excited.”

  “Try to talk to them,” Seth said. “If you can understand imps, I bet you can understand fairies too.”

  “I tried last night. They ignored me.”

  Seth glanced at his watch again. “I say we go do something else. Coulter’s like ten minutes late. And he picked the most boring spot in all of Fablehaven to make us wait.”

  “Maybe we’re in the wrong place.”

  Seth shook his head. “This is where he said.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come,” Kendra said.

  “By the time he does, we’ll have to leave to visit the Sphinx.”

  Coulter suddenly appeared in front of them, standing on the lawn not ten feet away, blocking their view of the birdbath. One instant there was nothing, the next, he had popped into existence, leaning on his walking stick. “I suppose I wasn’t meant to hear that,” Coulter said.

  Kendra shrieked, and Seth jumped to his feet. “Where did you come from?” Seth yelped.

  “Take more care what you say out in the open,” Coulter said. “You never know who may be listening. I’m sure your grandparents wanted your visit to the Sphinx kept a secret.”

  “Why were you eavesdropping?” Kendra accused.

  “To prove a point,” Coulter said. “Believe me, if I weren’t on your side, and you had given me that information, I would not have tipped my hand by revealing myself. By the way, Kendra, fairies are jealous by nature. There’s no surer way to earn their dislike than to become popular.”

  “How did you do that?” Seth asked.

  Coulter held up a fingerless leather glove, letting it hang limp. “One of my prize possessions. I deal in magical trinkets, tokens, and artifacts. Tanu has his potions, Vanessa has her critters — I have my magic glove. Among other things.”

  “Can I try it?” Seth asked.

  “All in good time,” Coulter said, pocketing the glove and clearing his throat. “I understand Tanu got you off to a fine start yesterday. He knows his business. You’d do well to heed him.”

  “We will,” Kendra said.

  “Before we begin,” Coulter said, shifting his feet as if he were feeling a tad uncomfortable, “I want to make one thing clear.” He gave Kendra an uncertain glance. “No matter how careful you are about personal hygiene, it is perfectly natural for a teenage girl to develop an occasional pimple.”

  Kendra hid her face in her hands. Seth grinned.

  “Such things are a natural part of the maturation process,” Coulter continued. “You may begin to notice other changes as—”

  Kendra raised her head. “I’m not embarrassed about it,” she insisted. “It was just the potion.”

  Coulter nodded patronizingly. “Well, if you ever need to talk about… growing up—”

  “That’s very kind,” Kendra blurted, holding up both hands to stop him from saying more. “I’ll let you know if I want to talk. Zits happen. I’m okay with it.” Seth looked like he was about to explode with laughter, but he managed to contain himself.

  Coulter wiped a hand across the top of his head, flattening his little tuft of gray hair. He had reddened slightly. “Right. Enough said about hormones. Shifting gears.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his hands together. “What do the two of you want me to teach you?”

  “How to make ourselves invisible,” Seth said.

  “I mean gener
ally,” Coulter clarified. “Why do you want to apprentice with me?”

  “So we can learn how to protect ourselves from magical creatures,” Kendra said.

  “And so we can help out around here,” Seth said. “I’m sick of staying in the yard.”

  Coulter wagged a finger. “A preserve like Fablehaven is a dangerous place. In my line of work, any degree of carelessness can lead to disaster. And by disaster I mean death. No second chances. Just a cold, lonely coffin.”

  The new soberness in his tone had quickly changed the mood. Kendra and Seth listened attentively.

  “Those woods,” Coulter said, sweeping a hand toward the trees, “are teeming with creatures who would love nothing more than to drown you. To cripple you. To devour you. To turn you to stone. If you let your guard down for a moment, if you forget for a second that every one of the creatures on this preserve is potentially your worst enemy, you won’t have any more chance of surviving than a worm on a henhouse floor. Am I getting through to you?”

  Kendra and Seth nodded.

  “I don’t tell you this out of cruelty,” Coulter said. “I’m not trying to shock you with exaggerations. I want you to go into this with your eyes wide open. People in my profession die all the time. Talented, cautious people. No matter how careful you are, there is always the chance of running across something more terrible than you are prepared to handle. Or you might find yourself in a situation you’ve dealt with a hundred times, but you make a mistake, and you never get a second chance. If either of you expects to venture out into those woods with me, I don’t want you clinging to a false sense of security. I’ve had my close calls, and I’ve seen people die. I’ll do my best to keep you safe, but it is only fair to warn you that on any given day, even doing something that might seem routine, if we’re out in those woods, we could all perish. I’ll not have you along without making that clear.”