Fablehaven I (7 page)

Read Fablehaven I Online

Authors: Brandon Mull,Brandon Dorman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #General, #American, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy & Magic, #& Magic, #Ages 9-12 Fiction, #Children's Books, #Fairies, #Brothers and sisters, #Family, #Siblings, #Good and evil, #Family - Siblings, #Multigenerational, #Grandparents, #Family - Multigenerational, #Connecticut, #Authors, #Grandparent and child

BOOK: Fablehaven I
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Kendra went back down the hall and slid open the door

to the study. Having not yet entered this particular room,

she first noticed the huge desk cluttered with books and

papers. The massive head of a hairy boar with jutting tusks

hung mounted on the wall. A collection of grotesque

wooden masks rested on a shelf. Golfing trophies lined

another. Plaques decorated the wood-paneled walls, along

with a framed display of military medals and ribbons. There

was a black-and-white picture of a much younger Grandpa

Sorenson showing off an enormous marlin. On the desk,

inside a crystal sphere with a flat bottom, was an eerie

replica of a human skull no bigger than her thumb. Kendra

slid the study door closed.

She tried the garage, the parlor, and the family room.

Maybe Lena had run to the store.

Kendra walked out to the back porch, shielded from

the rain by the overhang. She loved the fresh, damp scent

of rainfall. It continued to come down hard, puddling

around the garden. Where did the butterflies hide from

such a downpour?

Then she saw Lena. The housekeeper knelt in the mud

beside a bush blossoming with large blue and white roses,

absolutely soaked, apparently weeding. Her white hair was

plastered to her head, and her housecoat was drenched.

Lena?

The housekeeper looked up, smiled, and waved.

Kendra retrieved an umbrella from the hall closet and

joined Lena in the garden. You’re sopping, Kendra said.

Lena rooted out a weed. It’s a warm rain. I like being

out in the weather. She stuffed the weed into a bulging

garbage bag.

You’re going to catch a cold.

I don’t often take ill. She paused to stare up at the

clouds. It won’t last much longer.

Kendra tilted her umbrella back and gazed heavenward.

Leaden skies in all directions. You think?

Wait and see. The rain will pass within the hour.

Your knees are all muddy.

You think I’ve lost my marbles. The diminutive

woman stood up and spread her arms wide, tilting her head

back. Do you ever look up at the rain, Kendra? It feels like

the sky is falling.

Kendra tilted the umbrella back again. Millions of raindrops

rushed toward her, some pelting her face and making

her blink. Or like you’re soaring up to the clouds, she

said.

I suppose I should get you inside before my unusual

habits rub off.

No, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Back under the protection

of the umbrella, Kendra wiped droplets from her

forehead. I guess you don’t want the umbrella.

That would defeat the purpose. I’ll be in shortly.

Kendra returned to the house. She stole glances at

Lena through a window. It was just so peculiar, she couldn’t

resist spying. Sometimes Lena was working. Sometimes she

was smelling a blossom or stroking its petals. And the rain

kept falling.

* * *

Kendra was sitting on her bed, reading poems by Shel

Silverstein, when the room suddenly brightened. The sun

was out.

Lena had been right about the rain. It had relented

about forty minutes after her prediction. The housekeeper

had come inside, changed out of her wet clothes, and made

sandwiches.

Across the room, the painting of the knight charging

the dragon was complete. Seth had gone outside an hour

ago. Kendra was in a lazy mood.

Just as Kendra returned her attention to the latest

poem, Seth burst into the room, breathing hard. He wore

only socks on his feet. His clothes were streaked with mud.

You
have
to come see what I found in the woods.

Another witch?

No. Way cooler.

A hobo camp?

I’m not going to say; you have to come see.

Does it involve hermits or lunatics?

No people, he said.

How far from the yard?

Not far.

We could get in trouble. Besides, it’s muddy out.

Grandpa is hiding a beautiful park in the woods, Seth

blurted.

What? asked Kendra.

You have to come see it. Put on galoshes or something.

Kendra closed the book.

The sunlight came and went, depending on the shifting

clouds. A soft breeze ruffled the foliage. The woods

smelled mulchy. Scrambling over a damp, rotting log,

Kendra shrieked when she saw a glistening white frog.

Seth turned around. Awesome.

Try
disgusting.

I’ve never seen a white frog, said Seth. He tried to

grab it, but the frog took an enormous leap as he

approached. Whoa! That thing flew!

He checked the underbrush where the frog had landed,

but found nothing.

Hurry up, Kendra said, glancing back the way they

had come. The house was no longer in sight. She could not

shake the sick, nervous feeling in her stomach.

Unlike her little brother, Kendra was not a natural rule

breaker. She was in all the accelerated classes at school, got

almost perfect grades, kept her room tidy, and always practiced

for her piano lessons. Seth, on the other hand, settled

for lousy grades, routinely skipped his homework, and

earned frequent detentions. Of course, he was also the one

with all the friends, so maybe there was a method to his

madness.

What’s the rush? He took the lead again, blazing a

trail through the undergrowth.

The longer we’re gone, the more likely somebody will

notice we’re missing.

It isn’t much farther. See that hedge?

It was not exactly a hedge. More like a tall barrier of

unkempt bushes. You call that a hedge?

The park is on the far side.

The wall of bushes extended as far as Kendra could see

in either direction. How do we get around it?

Through
it. You’ll see.

They reached the bushes and Seth turned left, studying

the leafy barricade as he went, occasionally squatting and

checking closer. The interlocked bushes ranged from ten to

twelve feet tall, and they looked really thick.

Okay, I think this is where I squirmed through. There

was a deep indentation at the base of where two bushes

overlapped. Seth dropped to all fours and forced his way in.

You’re going to have a billion ticks, Kendra predicted.

They’re all hiding from the rain, he replied with perfect

confidence.

Kendra got down and followed him.

I don’t think this is the same way I got through last

time, Seth admitted. It’s a little more cramped. But it

should work. He was now slithering on his belly.

This better be good. Kendra squirmed on her elbows,

eyes squinted. The damp ground felt cold, and droplets fell

from the bush as she jostled it. Seth reached the far side

and stood up. She crawled through as well, her eyes widening

as she got to her feet.

Before her lay a pristine pond, a couple of hundred

yards across, with a small, verdant island at the center. A

series of elaborate gazebos surrounded the pond, interconnected

by a whitewashed boardwalk. Flowering vines

wound along the latticework of the impressive promenade.

Elegant swans glided on the water. Butterflies and hummingbirds

wove and darted among the blossoms. On the far

side of the pond, peacocks strutted and preened.

What in the world? Kendra gasped.

Come on. Seth started across the lush, neatly mown

lawn toward the nearest gazebo. Kendra looked back,

understanding why Seth had called the disheveled barrier

of bushes a hedge. On this side, the bushes were neatly

trimmed. The hedgerow encompassed the entire area, with

a single arched entryway off to one side.

Why didn’t we come through the entryway? Kendra

asked, trotting after her brother.

Shortcut. Seth paused at the white steps leading up

to the gazebo to pluck a piece of fruit from an espalier. Try

one.

You should wash it, Kendra said.

It just rained. He took a bite. It’s so good.

Kendra tried one. It was the sweetest nectarine she had

ever tasted. Delicious.

Together they mounted the steps of the extravagant

pavilion. The wood railing was perfectly smooth. Although

unshielded from the elements, all the woodwork appeared

to be in flawless condition: no peeling paint, no cracks, no

splinters.

The gazebo was furnished with white wicker love seats

and chairs. In some places the ubiquitous vines had been

woven into living wreaths and other fanciful patterns. A

bright parrot sat on a high perch staring down at them.

Look at the parrot! Kendra exclaimed.

Last time I saw some monkeys, Seth said. Little guys

with long arms. They were swinging all over the place.

And there was a goat. It ran away as soon as it saw me.

Seth took off, clomping down one of the boardwalks.

Kendra followed more slowly, absorbing the scene. It

looked like the setting of a fairy-tale wedding. She counted

twelve pavilions, each unique. One had a small white quay

projecting into the pond. The little pier was connected to a

floating shed that had to be a boathouse.

Kendra strolled after Seth, whose ruckus was sending

the swans drifting toward the far side of the lake, leaving

V-shaped ripples in their wake. The sun broke through the

clouds and gleamed upon the water.

Why would Grandpa Sorenson keep a place like this a

secret? It was magnificent! Why go through all the trouble

of maintaining it if not to enjoy it? Hundreds of people

could gather here with room to spare.

Kendra went to the gazebo with the pier and found that

the boathouse was locked. It was not large; she guessed it

held a few canoes or rowboats. Maybe Grandpa Sorenson

would give them permission to paddle around the pond.

No, she could not even tell him she knew about this place!

Was that why he had told them about the ticks and made

rules against venturing into the woods? To keep his little

Eden hidden? Could he be so selfish and secretive?

Kendra finished a complete lap around the pond, walking

on clean wooden planks the entire way. Across the

pond Seth yelled, and a small flock of cockatoos took

flight. The sun retreated behind clouds. They needed to get

back. Kendra told herself she could return later.

* * *

Kendra was concerned when she cut into her steak.

The middle was pink, almost red at the center. Grandpa

Sorenson and Dale were already taking bites.

Is my steak cooked? Kendra ventured.

‘ Course it’s cooked, Dale said around a mouthful.

It’s pretty red in the middle.

Only way to eat a steak, Grandpa said, dabbing his

mouth with a linen napkin. Medium rare. Keeps it juicy

and tender. If you cook it all the way through, you might

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