Fablehaven I (17 page)

captured fairies spend at least part of every night outdoors.

Just putting the container outside prevents them from

becoming imps?

Sometimes powerful magic is accomplished by simple

means.

Why did the other fairies attack Seth? Why would

they care, if they’re so selfish?

They care because they are selfish. Each fairy worries

she could be next. I am told Seth even left a mirror with

the fairy, so she could behold herself after she fell. The

fairies considered that act particularly cruel.

Grandpa answered every question with great calm, no

matter how accusingly or angrily Kendra asked it. His

peaceful demeanor was helping her calm down a bit. I’m

sure it was an accident, she said.

Seth nodded vigorously, blubber jiggling.

I suspect no malice. It was an unfortunate mishap. But

the fairies have little interest in his motives. They were

within their rights to exact retribution.

You can switch him back.

Restoring Seth to his original form is well beyond my

abilities.

Seth let out a long, mournful bellow. Kendra patted his

hump. We have to do something!

Yes, Grandpa said. He placed his hands over his eyes

and then dragged them down his face. This would be very

complicated to explain to your parents.

Who can fix him? Maddox?

Maddox is no magician. Besides, he is long gone.

Though I hesitate, I can think of only one person who

might be able to undo the enchantments placed on your

brother.

Who?

Seth has met her.

The witch?

Grandpa nodded. Under the circumstances, our only

hope is Muriel Taggert.

The wheelbarrow swayed as it bumped over a root.

Dale managed to steady it. Seth groaned. He was naked

except for a white towel wrapped around his middle.

Sorry, Seth, Dale said. This is a tricky path.

Are we almost there? Kendra asked.

Not much farther, Grandpa replied.

They walked single file, Grandpa in the lead, followed

by Dale pushing the wheelbarrow, and then Kendra in the

rear. What had begun as a nearly indiscernible trail near

the barn had broadened into a well-trodden path. Later

they branched off onto a smaller track. They had crossed

no new paths since then.

The woods seem so quiet, Kendra said.

They are quietest when you stay on the paths,

Grandpa said.

It seems too quiet.

There is a tension in the air. Your brother committed a

serious offense. The fall of a fairy is a woeful tragedy. The

retribution of the fairies was equally brutal. Eager eyes

await to see if the conflict will escalate.

It won’t, right?

I hope not. If Muriel cures your brother, the fairies

could interpret it as an insult.

Would they attack him again?

Probably not. At least not directly. The punishment

has been administered.

Can we heal the fairy?

Grandpa shook his head. No.

Could the witch?

Seth was altered by magic imposed upon him. But the

potential to fall and become an imp is a fundamental

aspect of being a fairy. She transformed in accordance to a

law that has existed as long as fairies have had wings.

Muriel might be able to undo the enchantments forced

upon Seth. Reversing the fall of a fairy would be far beyond

her capacity.

Poor fairy.

They reached a fork in the path. Grandpa turned left.

Almost there, he said. Keep silent as we converse with

her.

Kendra stared at the bushes and trees, expecting to find

spiteful eyes glaring back at her. What creatures would

come into view if all the greenery were removed? What

would happen if she raced off the path? How long before

some gruesome monster devoured her?

Grandpa stopped, pointing away into the trees. Here

we are.

Kendra saw the leafy shack in the distance, off the path

through the trees.

Too much undergrowth for the wheelbarrow, Dale

said, scooping Seth into his arms. Although Seth was much

more blubbery, he had not increased in size. As they waded

through the undergrowth, Dale carried him without much

difficulty.

The ivy-shrouded shack drew near. They walked

around to the front. The filthy witch sat inside, her back

against the tree stump, chewing on a knot in a bristly rope.

A pair of imps sat on the tree stump. One was skinny, with

prominent ribs and long, flat feet. The other was compact

and plump.

Hello, Muriel, Grandpa said.

The imps sprang from the trunk and scurried out of

sight. Muriel looked up, a slow grin revealing decayed

teeth. Could that be Stan Sorenson? She rubbed her eyes

theatrically and squinted at him. No, I must be dreaming.

Stan Sorenson said he would never visit me again!

I need your help, Grandpa said.

And you brought company. I remember Dale. Who is

this fine young lady?

My granddaughter.

She got none of your looks, lucky for her. My name is

Muriel, dear, pleased to meet you.

I’m Kendra.

Yes, of course. You have that lovely pink nightgown

with the bow on the bosom.

Kendra shot a look at Grandpa. How could this crazy

witch know about her pajamas?

I know a thing or two, Muriel continued, tapping her

temple. Telescopes are for stars, dear, not for trees.

Pay her no heed, Grandpa said. She wants to give

you the impression that she has power to spy on you in

your bedroom. Witches prey on fear. Her influence does

not extend beyond the walls of this shack.

Won’t you step inside for some tea? she offered.

What news she has comes from imps, Grandpa continued.

And since imps are banned from the yard, her

news came from a particular imp.

Muriel let out a shrieking laugh. The crazed cackle

suited her haggard appearance much better than her speaking

voice did.

The imp saw your room, and heard conversations from

wherever Seth stashed it, Grandpa concluded. Nothing

to fret about.

Muriel raised a finger in objection. Nothing to fret

about, you say?

Nothing the imp saw or heard could be harmful,

Grandpa clarified.

Except, perhaps, her own reflection, Muriel suggested.

Who is our final visitor? This poor, lumpy abomination?

Could it be? She clapped her hands and giggled.

Did our stalwart adventurer have a mishap? Did his clever

tongue finally betray him?

You know what happened, Grandpa said.

I do, I do, she cackled. I knew he was insolent, but

never suspected such cruelty! Lock him in a shed, I say. For

the sake of the fairies. Lock him up tight.

Can you restore him? Grandpa asked.

Restore him? the witch exclaimed. After what he

did?

It was an accident, as you are aware.

Why not ask me to rescue a killer from the noose? To

spare a traitor from his shame?

Can you do it?

Shall I conjure up a medal for him to wear as well? A

badge of honor for his crime?

Can you?

Muriel dropped the act. She regarded her visitors with

a sly expression. You know the price.

I can’t loosen a knot, Grandpa said.

Muriel tossed up her gnarled hands. You know I need

the energy from the knot for the spell, she said. He has

more than seventy separate hexes operating on him. You

ought to untie seventy knots.

What about-

No dickering. One knot, and your beastly grandson

will be restored to his original form. Without the knot, I

would never be able to counter the enchantment. This is

fairy magic. You knew the price before you came. No dickering.

Grandpa sagged. Show me the rope.

Lay the boy at my threshold.

Dale placed Seth in front of the door. Standing in the

doorway, Muriel held the rope out to Grandpa. There were

two knots. Both had dried blood on them. One was still

moist with saliva. Take your pick, she said.

Of my own free will, I sever this knot, Grandpa said.

Leaning forward, he blew gently on the higher of the two

knots. It unraveled.

The air trembled. On hot days, Kendra had seen the air

shimmer in the distance. This was similar, but right in front

of her. She felt pulsing vibrations, like she was standing in

front of a powerful stereo speaker during a song with lots of

bass. The ground seemed to be tipping.

Muriel extended a hand over Seth. She mumbled an

unintelligible incantation. His blubber rippled as if he were

boiling inside. It looked like thousands of worms were

under his skin, squirming to find a way out. Putrid vapor

fumed up from his flesh. His fat appeared to be evaporating.

His misshapen body convulsed.

Kendra extended her arms and swayed as the ground

teetered even more. There was a burst of darkness, an anti-flash,

and Kendra stumbled, barely catching herself.

The odd sensation ended. The air cleared and balance

returned. Seth sat up. He looked exactly like his old self.

No tusks. No flippers. No blowholes. Just an eleven-year-old

kid with a towel wrapped around his waist. He scrambled

away from the shack and got to his feet.

Satisfied? Muriel asked.

How do you feel, Seth? Grandpa inquired.

Seth patted his bare chest. I feel better.

Muriel grinned. Thank you, little adventurer. You did

me a great service today. I am indebted.

You shouldn’t have done it, Grandpa, Seth said.

Had to be done, he said. We best be going.

Stay a while, Muriel offered.

No thanks, Grandpa said.

Very well. Spurn my hospitality. Kendra, nice to meet

you, may you find less happiness than you deserve. Dale,

you are as mute as your brother, and nearly as pale. Seth,

please have another mishap soon. Stan, you lack the wit of

an orangutan, bless your soul. Do not be strangers.

Kendra gave Seth socks, shoes, shorts, and a shirt.

Once he put them on, they returned to the path.

Can I ride in the wheelbarrow on the way back? Seth

asked.

You ought to push me, Dale grumbled.

How did it feel being a walrus? Kendra asked.

Is that what I was?

A mutant humpbacked walrus with a deformed tail,

she clarified.

I wish we had a camera! It was weird breathing

through my back. And it was hard to move. Nothing felt

right.

Might be safer not to converse so loudly, Grandpa

said.

I couldn’t talk, Seth said more quietly. I felt like I

still knew how, but the words came out all tangled. My

mouth and tongue were different.