Fablehaven I (15 page)

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