Fablehaven I (10 page)

hot chocolate. Lena left the room as Grandpa took a

seat behind his desk.

I am impressed how quickly you solved my puzzle, he

said, taking a sip from his mug.

You
wanted
us to drink the milk? Kendra said.

Assuming you were the right kind of people. Frankly, I

don’t know you that well. I hoped that the kind of person

who would take the trouble to solve my little puzzle would

be the kind of person who could handle the notion of a

preserve full of magical creatures. Fablehaven would be too

much to swallow for most people.

Fablehaven? Seth repeated.

The name the founders gave this preserve centuries

ago. A refuge for mystical creatures, a stewardship passed

down from caretaker to caretaker over the years.

Kendra tried the hot chocolate. It was superb! The flavor

made her think of the rosebud chocolates.

What do you have besides fairies? Seth asked.

Many beings, great and small. Which is the true reason

the woods are off-limits. There are creatures out there

much more perilous than venomous snakes or wild apes.

Only certain orders of magical life forms are generally permitted

in the yard. Fairies, pixies, and such. Grandpa took

another sip from his mug. You like the hot chocolate?

It’s wonderful, Kendra said.

Made from the same milk you sampled in the garden

today. Same milk the fairies drink. Just about the only food

they’ll eat. When mortals drink it, their eyes are opened to

an unseen world. But the effects wear off after a day. Lena

will prepare you a cup every morning so you can stop stealing

from the fairies.

Where does it come from? Kendra asked.

We make it special in the barn. We have some dangerous

creatures in there, too, so it’s still off-limits.

Why’s everything off-limits? Seth complained. I’ve

been a long way into those woods four times and I’ve

always been fine.

Four times? Grandpa said.

All before the warning, Seth amended hastily.

Yes, well, your eyes were not yet opened to what truly

surrounded you. And you were fortunate. Even when you

were blind to the enchanted creatures populating the forest,

there are many places you could have ventured into

from which you would not have returned. Of course, now

that you can see them, the creatures here can interact with

you much more readily, so the danger is much greater.

No offense, Grandpa, but is this really the truth?

Kendra asked. You’ve told us so many versions of why the

woods are forbidden.

You saw the fairies, he said.

Kendra leaned forward. Maybe the milk made us hallucinate.

Maybe they were holograms. Maybe you just keep

telling us whatever you think we’ll believe.

I understand your concern, Grandpa said. I wanted

to protect you from the truth about Fablehaven unless you

sought it out for yourselves. It is not the kind of information

I wanted to thrust upon you. That is the truth. What

I’m telling you now is the truth. You’ll have ample opportunity

to confirm my words.

So the animals we saw at the pond were actually other

creatures, like how the butterflies were fairies, Kendra

clarified.

Most assuredly. The pond can be a hazardous place.

Return there now, and you would find friendly naiads beckoning

you near the water in order to pull you under and

drown you.

That’s so cruel! Kendra said.

Depends on your perspective, Grandpa said, spreading

his hands. To them, your life is so ridiculously short

that to kill you is seen as absurd and funny. No more tragic

than squashing a moth. Besides, they have a right to punish

trespassers. The island at the center of the pond is a shrine

to the Fairy Queen. No mortal is permitted to tread there.

I know of a groundskeeper who broke that rule. The

moment he set foot on the sacred island, he transformed

into a cloud of dandelion fluff, clothes and all. He scattered

on the breeze and was never seen again.

Why would he go there? Kendra asked.

The Fairy Queen is widely considered the most powerful

figure in all fairydom. The groundskeeper had a desperate

need and went to plead for her assistance.

Apparently she was not impressed.

In other words, he had no respect for what was off-limits,

Kendra said, giving Seth a meaningful look.

Precisely, Grandpa agreed.

The queen of the fairies lives on that little island?

Seth asked.

No. It is merely a shrine meant to honor her. Similar

shrines abound on my property, and all can be dangerous.

If the pond is dangerous, why does it have a boathouse?

Kendra asked.

A previous caretaker of this preserve had a fascination

with naiads.

The dandelion guy? Seth asked.

A different guy, Grandpa said. It’s a long story. Ask

Lena about it sometime; I believe she knows the tale.

Kendra shifted in the oversized chair. Why do you live

in such a scary place?

Grandpa folded his arms on the desk. It’s only

frightening if you go where you don’t belong. This entire

sanctuary is consecrated ground, governed by laws that

cannot be broken by the creatures who dwell here. Only on

this hallowed soil could mortals interact with these beings

with any measure of safety. As long as mortals remain

within their boundaries, they are protected by the founding

covenants of this preserve.

Covenants? Seth asked.

Agreements. Specifically, a treaty ratified by all the

orders of whimsical life forms who dwell here that affords a

measure of security for mortal caretakers. In a world where

mortal man has become the dominant force, most creatures

of enchantment have fled to refuges like this one.

What are the covenants? Kendra asked.

The specific details are complex, with many limitations

and exceptions. Speaking broadly, they are based on

the law of the harvest, the law of retribution. If you do not

bother the creatures, they will not bother you. That is what

affords you so much protection when you are unable to see

them. You can’t interact with them, so they generally

behave likewise.

But now we can see them, Seth said.

Which is why you must use caution. The fundamental

premises of the law are mischief for mischief, magic for

magic, violence for violence. They will not initiate trouble

unless you break the rules. You have to open the door. If

you harass them, you open the door for them to harass you.

Hurt them, they can hurt you. Use magic on them, they

will use magic on you.

Use magic? Seth said eagerly.

Mortals were never meant to use magic, Grandpa

said. We are nonmagical beings. But I have learned a few

practical principles that help me manage things. Nothing

you would find very remarkable.

Can you turn Kendra into a toad?

No. But there are beings out there who could. And I

would not be able to change her back. Which is why I need

to finish this thought: Breaking the rules can include trespassing

where you are not allowed. There are geographic

boundaries set where certain creatures are allowed and certain

creatures, including mortals, are not permitted. The

boundaries function as a way to contain the darker creatures

without causing an uproar. If you go where you do not

belong, you could open the door to vicious retribution from

powerful enemies.

So only good creatures can enter the yard, Kendra

said.

Grandpa became very serious. None of these creatures

are good. Not the way we think of good. None are safe.

Much of morality is peculiar to mortality. The best creatures

here are merely not evil.

The fairies aren’t safe? Seth asked.

They aren’t out to harm anyone, or I wouldn’t allow

them in the yard. I suppose they are capable of good deeds,

but they would not normally do them for what we would

consider the right reasons. Take brownies, for instance.

Brownies don’t fix things to help people. They fix things

because they enjoy fixing things.

Do the fairies talk? Kendra asked.

Not much to humans. They have a language all their

own, although they rarely speak to each other, except to

trade insults. Most never condescend to use human speech.

They consider everything beneath them. Fairies are vain,

selfish creatures. You may have noticed I drained all the

fountains and the birdbaths outside. When they are full,

the fairies assemble to stare at their reflections all day.

Is Kendra a fairy? Seth asked.

Grandpa bit his lip and stared at the floor, obviously

trying to choke back a laugh. We had a mirror outside

once and they flocked around it, Kendra said, studiously

ignoring both the comment and the reaction. I wondered

what the heck was going on.

Grandpa regained his composure. Exactly the sort of

display I was trying to avoid by draining the birdbaths.

Fairies are remarkably conceited. Outside of a sanctuary

like this one, they won’t even let a mortal glimpse them.

Since they consider looking at themselves the ultimate

delight, they deny the pleasure to others. Most of the

nymphs have the same mentality.

Why don’t they care here? Kendra asked.

They still care. But they can’t hide when you drink

their milk, so they have reluctantly grown accustomed to

mortals seeing them. I have to laugh sometimes. The fairies

pretend not to care what mortals think about them, but try

giving one a compliment. She’ll blush, and the others will

crowd in for their turn. You would think they’d be embarrassed.

I think they’re pretty, Seth said.

They’re gorgeous! Grandpa agreed. And they can be

useful. They handle most of my gardening. But good? Safe?

Not so much.

Kendra swallowed the last of her hot chocolate. So if

we don’t go into the woods or the barn, and don’t bother

the fairies, we’ll be fine?

Yes. This house and the yard around it is the most protected

location in Fablehaven. Only the gentlest creatures

are allowed here. Of course, there are a few nights a year

when all the creatures run amuck, and one of those is coming

up. But I’ll tell you more about it when the time

comes.

Seth scooted forward in his chair. I want to hear about

the evil creatures. What’s out there?

For the sake of your ability to sleep at night, I’m going

to keep that to myself.

I met that weird old lady. Was she really something

else?

Grandpa gripped the edge of the desk. That encounter

is a frightening example of why the woods are forbidden. It

could have been disastrous. You ventured toward a very