Fablehaven I (32 page)

you two, things we can talk about in the open. Have you

met a man named Warren?

Warren? Seth repeated.

Handsome and quiet? White hair and skin? Dale’s

brother.

No, Kendra said.

They might have brought him to the house on

Midsummer Eve, Grandma prodded.

We were with Grandpa, Dale, and Lena until after

sundown, but never saw anybody else, Seth said.

I never even heard him mentioned, Kendra added.

Me neither, Seth agreed.

Grandma nodded. He must have stayed at the cabin.

Have you met Hugo?

Yeah! Seth said. He’s awesome. I wonder where he

went?

Grandma gave Seth a measuring glance. I trust he has

been attending to his chores in the barn.

I don’t think so, Kendra said. We had to milk the

cow yesterday.

You milked Viola? Grandma said, plainly astonished.

How?

Kendra described how they had set up the ladders and

slid down her teats. Seth added details about how milky

they had gotten.

Resourceful children! Grandma said. Stan had told

you nothing about her?

We found her because she was mooing so loud, Seth

said. She was shaking the whole barn.

It looked like her udder was going to explode, Kendra

said.

Viola is our milch cow, Grandma said. Every preserve

has such an animal, though not all are bovine. She is

older than this preserve, which was founded in 1711. At

that time, she was brought over from Europe by ship. Born

from a milch cow on a preserve in the Pyrenees Mountains,

she was about 100 years old when she made the voyage,

and was already larger than an elephant. She has been here

ever since, gradually gaining size each year.

Looks like she’s about to outgrow the barn, Seth said.

Her growth has slowed over the years, but yes, she may

one day become too colossal for her current confines.

She provides the milk the fairies drink, Kendra said.

More than the fairies drink it. Her ancient breed is

nourished and worshipped by all creatures of fairydom.

They place daily enchantments on her food and make

secret offerings to honor and strengthen her. In return, her

milk functions as an ambrosia central to their survival. It is

no wonder that cows are still considered sacred in certain

parts of the world.

She must make tons of dung, Seth said.

Another blessing. Her manure is the finest fertilizer in

the world, coaxing plants to mature much more quickly

than usual and sometimes to reach incredible proportions.

By the power of her dung we can reap multiple harvests

from a field in a season, and many tropical plants flourish

on this property that would otherwise perish. Did you kids

happen to put milk out for the fairies?

No, Seth said. We spilled it all down the drain. We

were mainly trying to calm down the cow.

No matter. The absence of milk might make the fairies

a little ornery, but they’ll get over it. We’ll see they get

some tomorrow at the latest.

So normally Hugo milks Viola, Kendra surmised.

Correct. It is a standing order, so there must be a reason

he has not carried it out during the past couple of days.

You have not seen him since Midsummer Eve?

No.

He was probably assigned to watch over Warren and

the cabin until summoned. He should come if we call.

Could something have happened to him? Seth asked.

A golem may seem like little more than animated

matter granted elementary intelligence, but most creatures

on this preserve fear Hugo. Few could harm him if they

tried. He will be our chief ally in rescuing your grandfather.

What about Warren? Kendra asked. Will he help

too?

Grandma frowned. You have not met him because his

mind has been ruined. Dale has remained on this preserve

mainly in order to care for him. Warren is lost in a catatonic

stupor. Fablehaven has many stories. His is another

tragic tale of a mortal venturing where he did not belong.

Warren will be no help to us.

Anybody else? Seth asked. Like the satyrs?

Satyrs? Grandma exclaimed. When have you met

satyrs? I may have some choice words for your grandfather

when we find him.

We met them by accident in the woods, Kendra

assured her. We were taking stew from what looked like a

well, and they warned us that we were actually stealing

from an ogress.

Those rogues were protecting their underhanded operation

more than you, Grandma huffed. They have been

pilfering her stew for years. The scoundrels didn’t want to

have to rebuild their thieving device-probably sounded

too much like work. Satyrs live for frivolity. The ultimate

fair-weather friends. Your grandfather and I share a mutual

respect with various beings on this preserve, but there is

not much more loyalty than one would find out in the

wild. The herd looks on as the sick or injured are brought

down by predators. If your grandfather is to be rescued on

such short notice, it will be our doing, with none but Hugo

to aid us.

* * * *

It was late afternoon when they reached the yard.

Grandma stood with her hands on her hips, taking in the

scene. The ruined tree house. The damaged furniture

strewn about the garden. The gaping, glassless windows.

I’m afraid to go inside, she muttered.

You don’t remember how bad it is? Kendra asked.

She was a chicken, remember? Seth said. We ate her

eggs.

Creases appeared on Grandma’s brow. It feels like such

a betrayal to have your home violated, she said softly. I

know sinister evils lurk in the woods, but they have never

crossed that boundary.

Kendra and Seth followed Grandma across the yard

and up the porch steps. Grandma stooped and picked up a

copper triangle, attaching it to a hook hanging from a nail.

Kendra remembered noticing the triangle dangling among

the wind chimes. A short copper rod was linked to the

triangle by a chain of beads. Grandma clanged the rod

noisily around the inside of the triangle.

That should bring Hugo, Grandma explained. She

crossed the porch and paused in the doorway, staring into

her home. It looks like we were bombed, she murmured.

Such senseless vandalism!

She roamed the gutted house in a somber daze, occasionally

pausing to pick up a damaged frame and examine

the torn photograph inside or to run her hand along the

remnants of a beloved piece of furniture. Grandma climbed

the stairs and went to her room. Kendra and Seth watched

her rummage through the closet, finally withdrawing a

metal lunch box.

At least this is intact, Grandma said.

Hungry? Seth asked.

Kendra slapped him on the shoulder with the back of

her hand. What is it, Grandma?

Follow me.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Grandma opened the lunch

box. She removed a handful of photographs. Help me lay

these out.

The photos were of the house. Each room was shown

from several angles. The exterior was also displayed from

multiple perspectives. In total there were more than a hundred

pictures. Grandma and the children began spreading

them across the kitchen floor.

We took these pictures in case the unthinkable ever

occurred, Grandma said.

Kendra suddenly made the connection. For the

brownies?

Clever girl, said Grandma. I’m not sure whether

they will be up to the challenge, considering the extent of

the damage, but they have worked miracles in the past. I’m

sorry this calamity befell us during your stay.

You shouldn’t be, Seth said. It happened because of

me.

You mustn’t assume all the blame, Grandma insisted.

What else can we do? Kendra said We caused it.

Kendra didn’t do anything, Seth said. She tried to

stop me. The whole thing is my fault.

Grandma regarded Seth pensively. You did not mean

to harm Grandpa. Yes, you made him vulnerable through

your disobedience. As I understand, you were commanded

not to look out the window. Had you heeded the order, you

would not have been tempted to open the window, and

your grandfather would not have been taken. You must face

that fact, and learn from it.

But the full blame for Stan’s predicament is considerably

more guilt than you deserve. Your grandfather and I

are the caretakers of this estate. We are responsible for the

actions of those we bring here, especially children. Stan

allowed you to come here to do your parents a favor, but

also because we need to start selectively sharing this secret

with our posterity. We will not be around forever.

The secret was shared with us, and a day came when the

responsibility of this enchanted refuge fell on our shoulders.

One day we will have to pass the responsibility on to

others.

She took Seth and Kendra by the hands and fixed

them with a loving gaze. I know the mistakes you made

were not deliberate or malicious. Your grandfather and I

have made plenty of mistakes ourselves. So have all the

people who ever lived here, no matter how wise or cautious.

Your grandfather must share the blame for placing

you children in a situation where opening a window with

kind intentions could cause such harm and destruction.

And clearly the fiends who abducted him are ultimately

the most culpable.

Kendra and Seth were silent. Seth scrunched up his

face. If it wasn’t for me, Grandpa would be fine right now,

he said, fighting hard not to cry.

And I would still be a chicken in a cage, Grandma

said. Let’s worry about fixing the problem instead of the

blame. Don’t despair. I know we can set things right. Take

me to Dale.

Seth nodded, sniffing and rubbing his forearm across

his nose. He led the way across the back porch, weaving

through the garden toward their destination.

There really aren’t many fairies, Grandma said. I’ve

never seen the yard so devoid of life.

There haven’t been many around ever since they

attacked Seth, Kendra said. Since Grandpa vanished

there have been even fewer.

When they stood over the painted, life-size metal

statue of Dale, Grandma shook her head. I’ve never seen

this particular enchantment, but that’s certainly Dale.

Can you help him? Kendra asked.

Perhaps, given sufficient time. Part of counteracting

an enchantment is understanding who placed it, and how.

We found tracks, Seth said. He showed Grandma the

print in the flowerbed. Although the impression had faded

a bit, it remained recognizable.

Grandma frowned. It doesn’t look familiar. Many creatures