Fablehaven I (12 page)

rivers last forever. Difficult to say. We did not really live,

not like mortals. We dreamed.

Wow.

At least that was the way of things until Patton, Lena

said, more to herself now. I began looking forward to his

visits, and back on them in memory. I suppose that was the

beginning of the end.

Kendra shook her head. And I thought you were just

the half-Chinese housekeeper.

She smiled. Patton always liked my eyes. She batted

them. He said he was of the Asian persuasion.

What’s Dale’s story? Is he a pirate king or something?

Dale is a regular man. A second cousin of your grandfather.

A man he trusts.

Kendra looked into her empty mug. A ring of chocolate

sediment circled the bottom. I have a question, she

said, and I want you to answer honestly.

If I can.

Is my Grandma Sorenson dead?

What makes you ask that?

I think Grandpa makes up phony excuses for her not

being around. This is a dangerous place. He has lied about

other things. I get the feeling he’s trying to protect us from

the truth.

I often wonder if lies are ever a protection.

She’s dead, isn’t she.

No, she’s alive.

Is she the witch?

She’s not the witch.

Is she really visiting Aunt Whoever in Missouri?

That is for your grandfather to tell.

Seth looked over his shoulder. Besides the fairies fluttering

about, the garden looked still. Grandpa and Dale

were long gone. Lena was in the house dusting. Kendra was

off doing whatever boring things kept her occupied. He

had his emergency kit in hand, along with a few strategic

additions. Operation See Cool Monsters was about to

begin.

He hesitantly stepped off the edge of the lawn into the

woods, half-expecting werewolves to leap out at him.

There were a few fairies up ahead, not as many as in the

garden. Otherwise things looked pretty much the same.

He marched forward, setting a brisk pace.

Where do you think you’re going?

Seth whirled. Kendra was approaching from the garden.

He walked back to meet her at the edge of the lawn. I

want to see what’s really at the pond. Those nai-thingies

and stuff.

How brain-damaged are you? Didn’t you hear a word

Grandpa told us yesterday?

I’m going to be careful! I won’t go near the water.

You could get killed! I mean really killed, not bitten

by a tick. Grandpa made those rules for a reason!

Adults always underestimate kids, Seth said. They

get all protective because they think we’re babies. Think

about it. Mom used to complain all the time about me

playing in the street. But I always did it. And what happened?

Nothing. I paid attention. I stayed out of the way

when a car came.

This is so different!

Grandpa goes all over the place.

Kendra clenched her hands into fists. Grandpa knows

the places to avoid! You don’t even know what you’re dealing

with. Besides, when Grandpa finds out, you’ll be stuck

in the attic the rest of our stay.

How’s he going to find out?

He knew we went into the woods last time! He knew

we drank the milk!

Because you were there! Your bad luck rubbed off on

me. How did you know where I was going?

Your secret agent skills need some work, Kendra said.

A good start might be not wearing your camouflage shirt

every time you go exploring.

I need to hide from the dragons!

Right. You’re practically invisible. Just a floating

head.

I have my emergency kit. If anything attacks, I can

scare it away with my gear.

With rubber bands?

I have a whistle. I have a mirror. I have a cigarette

lighter. I have firecrackers. They’ll think I’m a wizard.

Do you really believe that?

And I have this. He pulled out the little skull in the

crystal globe from Grandpa’s desk. That should make

them think twice.

A skull the size of a peanut?

There probably aren’t even any monsters, Seth said.

What makes you think Grandpa’s telling the truth this

time?

I don’t know, maybe the fairies?

Well, good job. You blew it. Congratulate yourself. I

can’t go now.

I’m going to blow it every time. Not to be a jerk, but

because you could really get hurt.

Seth kicked a stone, sending it skidding into the

woods. What am I supposed to do now?

How about exploring the enormous garden full of

fairies?

I already did. I can’t catch them.

Not to catch them. To look at magical creatures that

nobody else even knows exist. Come on.

He reluctantly joined her.

Oh, look, another fairy, he mumbled. Now I’ve seen

a million.

Don’t forget to put the skull back.

When they responded to the call for dinner, a stranger

sat at the table along with Grandpa and Dale. The stranger

stood when they entered. He was taller than Grandpa and

much broader, with curly brown hair. The layers of furry

skins he wore made him look like a mountain man. He was

missing the bottom of one earlobe.

Kids, this is Maddox Fisk, Grandpa said. Maddox,

meet my grandchildren, Kendra and Seth. Kendra shook

the man’s calloused, thick-fingered hand.

Do you work here too? Seth asked.

Maddox is a fairy broker, Grandpa said.

Among other things, Maddox added. Call fairies my

specialty.

You sell fairies? Kendra asked, taking a seat.

Trap them, buy them, trade them, sell them. All of the

above.

How do you trap them? Seth asked.

A man has to keep his trade secrets private, Maddox

said, taking a bite of pork roast. Let me tell you, apprehending

a fairy is no easy task. Slippery critters. The trick

usually involves appealing to their vanity. Even then, takes

quite a bit of know-how.

Could you use an apprentice? Seth inquired.

Hold that thought about six years. Maddox winked

at Kendra.

Who buys fairies? Kendra asked.

Folks who run preserves, like your granddad. A few

private collectors. Other brokers.

Are there lots of preserves? Seth asked.

Dozens, Maddox replied. They’re on all seven continents.

Even Antarctica? Kendra asked.

Two in Antarctica, although one is underground.

Harsh environment. Perfect for certain species, though.

Kendra swallowed a bite of pork. What keeps people

from discovering the sanctuaries?

There has been a worldwide network of dedicated

people keeping the preserves secret for thousands of years,

Grandpa said. They are backed by ancient fortunes, held

in trust. Bribes get paid. Locations are changed when necessary.

Helps that most folks are unable to see the little

critters, Maddox said. With the right licenses, you can

get butterflies through customs. When you can’t, there are

other ways to cross borders.

The preserves are the final refuge for many ancient

and wonderful species, Grandpa said. The goal is to prevent

these wondrous beings from passing out of existence.

Amen, Maddox said.

You have a good haul this season? Dale asked.

Far as trapping goes, pickings are getting slimmer

every year. I made a few exciting finds in the wild. One you

won’t believe. I picked up several rare specimens from preserves

in Southeast Asia and Indonesia. I’m sure we can do

some trading. I’ll tell you more when we adjourn to the

study.

You kids would be welcome to join us, Grandpa said.

All right! Seth cheered.

Kendra took another bite of the succulent pork roast.

Everything Lena cooked was outstanding. Always perfectly

seasoned, typically served with delicious gravies or sauces.

Kendra never had any complaints about her Mom’s cooking,

but Lena was in a class all her own.

Grandpa and Maddox discussed people Kendra did not

know, other individuals involved in the secretive world of

fairy aficionados. She wondered if Maddox would ask about

Grandma, but it never came up.

Maddox repeatedly mentioned the evening star.

Grandpa seemed to focus on this news with particular

interest. Rumors that the evening star was forming again.

A woman who claimed the evening star tried to recruit her.

Whispers of an attack by the evening star.

Kendra could not resist interjecting. What’s the

evening star? It sounds like you’re using it as a code word.

Maddox glanced uncertainly at Grandpa. Grandpa

gave him a nod.

The Society of the Evening Star is an arcane organization

that we all hoped had gone extinct decades ago,

Maddox explained. Over the centuries, their relevance

has waxed and waned. Seems like just when you think

you’ve seen the last of them, you start hearing rumors

again.

They are dedicated to overthrowing preserves in order

to use them for their own misguided purposes, Grandpa

said. Members of the Society consort with demons and

practitioners of the black arts.

Are they going to attack us? Seth asked.

Not likely, Grandpa said. The preserves are protected

by powerful magic. But I lend an ear to the news all

the same. Rarely hurts to be cautious.

Why the evening star? Kendra asked. It’s such a

pretty name.

The evening star ushers in the night, Maddox said.

They considered the statement in silence. Maddox wiped

his lips with a napkin. Sorry. Not a very cheery topic

around the dinner table.

After supper, Lena cleared the table and they all went

to the study. On the way there, Maddox collected several

cases and crates from the entry hall. Dale, Seth, and

Kendra helped. The cases had perforations, evidently to

allow the creatures inside to breathe, but Kendra was

unable to see into them. All were locked.

Grandpa settled in behind his large desk, Dale and

Maddox claimed the oversized armchairs, Lena leaned

against the windowsill, and Kendra and Seth found seats

on the floor.

First off, Maddox said, bending over and unlocking a

large black crate, we have some fairies from a preserve on

Timor. He opened the hatch, and eight fairies soared out.

Two tiny ones, not even an inch tall, darted to the window.

They were amber in color, with wings like flies. One

banged the windowpane with a miniscule fist. A large fairy,

more than four inches tall, hovered in front of Kendra. She

looked like a miniature Pacific Islander with dragonfly

wings across her back as well as tiny wings on her ankles.

Three of the fairies had elaborate butterfly wings with

the appearance of stained glass. Another had oily black