Fablehaven: The Complete Series (12 page)

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 wings. The last had furry wings, and her body was coated with pale blue fuzz.

“Whoa!” Seth said. “That one’s all hairy.”

“A downy fountain sprite, found only on the island of Roti,” Maddox said.

“I like the little ones,” Kendra said.

“A more common variety—they haunt the Malaysian Peninsula,” Maddox said.

“They’re so fast,” Kendra said. “Why don’t they escape?”

“Catching a fairy renders her powerless,” Maddox said. “Keep her in a cage, or a sealed room, like this one, and her magic cannot be used to escape. While under confinement they become fairly docile and obedient.”

Kendra frowned. “How does Grandpa know they will stay in his garden if he buys them?”

Maddox winked at Grandpa. “Gets right to the point, this one.” He turned back to Kendra. “Fairies are highly territorial, nonmigratory creatures. Put them in a livable environment and they stay put. Especially an environment like Fablehaven, with gardens and plentiful food and other enchanted critters.”

“I’m sure I can find a trade for the fountain sprite,” Grandpa said. “The Banda Sea sunwings are beautiful as well. We can work out the particulars later.”

Maddox slapped the side of the crate and the fairies returned. The ones with the stained-glass wings took their time, drifting lazily. The little ones zoomed in. The fountain sprite floated up to a high corner of the room. Maddox patted the side of the crate again and spat a stern command in a language Kendra did not understand. The fuzzy fairy glided into the container.

“Next we have some albino nightgrifters from Borneo.” Out of a case flew three milky white fairies, their mothlike wings peppered with flecks of black.

Maddox proceeded to display several other groups of distinctive fairies. Then he began showing fairies one at a time. Kendra found a couple of them disgusting. One had thorny wings and a tail. Another was reptilian, covered in scales. Maddox displayed its chameleonic ability to match different backgrounds.

“Now for my big find,” Maddox said, rubbing his hands together. “I captured this little lady in an oasis deep in the Gobi Desert. I’ve only seen one other of her kind. Could we dim the lights?”

Dale jumped up and shut the lights off.

“What is she?” Grandpa asked.

In answer, Maddox opened the final case. Out soared a dazzling fairy with wings like shimmering veils of gold. Three gleaming feathers streamed beneath her, elegant ribbons of light. She hung gloriously in the center of the room with a regal air.

“A jinn harp?” Grandpa said in astonishment.

“Favor us with a song, I beg you,” Maddox said. He repeated the solicitation in another language.

The fairy gleamed even brighter, shedding sparks. The music that followed was mesmerizing. The voice made Kendra imagine a multitude of vibrating crystals. The wordless song had the power of an operatic aria mingled with the sweetness of a lullaby. It was longing, beckoning, hopeful, and heartbreaking.

They all sat transfixed until the song ended. When it was over, Kendra wanted to applaud, but the moment felt too sacred.

“Truly you are magnificent,” Maddox said, repeating the compliment again in a foreign tongue. Chinese? He tapped the side of her case, and with a radiant flourish the fairy was gone.

The room felt dim and bleak in her absence. Kendra tried to blink away the splotchy afterimages.

“How did you make such a find?” Grandpa asked in wonder.

“I caught wind of some local legends near the Mongolian border. Cost me nearly two months of brutal living to track her down.”

“The only other known jinn harp has her own shrine in a Tibetan sanctuary,” Grandpa explained. “She was thought to be unique. Fairy connoisseurs travel from all corners of the globe to behold her.”

“I can see why,” Kendra said.

“What a singular treat, Maddox! Thank you for bringing her into our home.”

“I’m touring her around the circuit before I take offers,” Maddox said.

“I don’t mean to pretend I can afford her, but send me word when she becomes available.” Standing up, Grandpa looked at the clock and clapped his hands together. “Looks like it’s about time for everyone under the age of thirty to head off to bed.”

“But it’s still early!” Seth said.

“No grousing. I have negotiations to conduct with Maddox tonight. We can’t have young people underfoot. You’ll need to stay in your room, no matter what commotion you hear downstairs. Our, ah, negotiations can be a bit spirited. Understood?”

“Yes,” Kendra said.

“I want to negotiate,” Seth said.

Grandpa shook his head. “It’s a dull business. You kids have a good sleep.”

“No matter what you might think you hear,” Maddox said as Kendra and Seth departed the study, “we aren’t having fun.”

Chapter 7

Prisoner in a Jar

The floorboards creaked gently as Kendra and Seth tiptoed down the stairs. Early morning light filtered through closed blinds and drawn curtains. The house was still. The opposite of last night.

Beneath their covers in the dark attic the night before, Kendra and Seth had found sleeping impossible as they listened to howling laughter, shattering glass, twittering flutes, slamming doors, and the constant din of shouted conversations. When they opened the door to sneak down and spy on the festivities, Lena was always seated at the foot of the attic stairs, reading a book.

“Go back to bed,” she said each time they attempted a reconnaissance mission. “Your grandfather is still negotiating.”

Eventually Kendra fell asleep. She believed it was the silence that had finally awakened her in the morning. When she rolled out of bed, Seth arose as well. Now they were creeping down the stairs in hopes of glimpsing the aftermath of the night’s revelry.

The brass coatrack had toppled in the entry hall, surrounded by hooked triangles of broken glass. A painting lay facedown on the floor, frame cracked. A primitive symbol was scrawled on the wall in orange chalk.

They passed quietly into the living room. Tables and chairs had been overturned. Lampshades hung crooked and torn. Empty glasses, bottles, and plates lay scattered about, several of them cracked or broken. A ceramic pot lay in pieces around a pile of soil and the remnants of a plant. Food stains appeared at every turn—melted cheese caked into the carpeting, tomato sauce drying on the arm of a love seat, a squashed éclair oozing custard all over an ottoman.

Grandpa Sorenson was snoring on the couch, using a curtain for a blanket. The curtain rod was still attached. He clutched a wooden scepter like a teddy bear. The strange staff was carved with vines twisting around the shaft and topped by a large pinecone. Despite all the commotion they had heard the night before, Grandpa was the only sign of life.

Seth roamed off toward the study. Kendra was about to follow when she noticed an envelope on a table near her grandfather. A thick seal of crimson wax had been broken, and part of a folded paper protruded invitingly.

Kendra glanced at Grandpa Sorenson. He was facing away from the letter, and showed no sign of stirring.

If he didn’t want a letter read, he shouldn’t leave it out in the open, right? It wasn’t as if she were stealing it unopened from his mailbox. And she had several unanswered questions about Fablehaven, not the least of which concerned what was actually going on with her grandma.

Kendra eased over to the table, a queasy feeling in her stomach. Maybe she should have Seth read it. Invading privacy wasn’t really her forte.

But it would be so simple. The letter was right in front of her, conveniently sticking out of the open envelope. Nobody would know. She tipped the envelope up and found there was no address or return address. The envelope was blank. Hand-delivered. Had Maddox brought it? Probably.

After a final glance to ensure Grandpa still looked comatose, Kendra slid the cream-colored paper out of the envelope and unfolded it. The message was written in bold script.

Stanley,

I trust this missive finds you in good health.

It has come to our attention that the SES has been exhibiting unusual activity in the northeast of the United States. We remain uncertain whether they have pinpointed the location of Fablehaven, but one unconfirmed report suggests they are in communication with an individual(s) on your preserve. Mounting evidence implies the secret is out.

I need not remind you about the attempted infiltration of a certain preserve in the interior of Brazil last year. Nor the significance of that preserve in connection with the significance of yours.

As you well know, we have not detected such aggressive activity from the SES in decades. We are preparing to reassign additional resources to your vicinity. As always, secrecy and misdirection remain top priorities. Be vigilant.

I continue to search diligently for a resolution to the situation with Ruth. Do not lose hope.

   With everlasting fidelity,

   S

Kendra reread the letter. Ruth was her grandma’s name. What situation? SES had to be the Society of the Evening Star. What did the “S” at the end of the letter stand for? The entire message seemed a bit vague, probably deliberately.

“Look at this,” Seth whispered from the kitchen.

Kendra jumped, every muscle in her body tensing. Grandpa smacked his lips and shifted on the couch. Kendra stood temporarily immobilized by guilty panic. Seth was not looking at her. He was stooping over something in the kitchen. Grandpa became still again.

Kendra folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, trying to situate it as she had found it. Moving stealthily, she joined Seth, who crouched over muddy hoofprints.

“Were they riding horses in here?” he asked.

“It would explain the racket,” she murmured, trying to sound casual.

Lena appeared in the doorway, dressed in a bathrobe, hair awry. “Look at you early risers,” she said softly. “You caught us before cleanup.”

Kendra stared at Lena, trying to keep her expression unreadable. The housekeeper showed no indication of having seen her spying at the letter.

Seth pointed at the hoofprints. “What the heck happened?”

“The negotiations went well.”

“Is Maddox still here?” Seth asked hopefully.

Lena shook her head. “He left in a taxi about an hour ago.”

Grandpa Sorenson shuffled into the kitchen wearing boxers, socks, and an undershirt stained with brown mustard. He squinted at them. “What are you all doing up at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s after seven,” Seth said.

Grandpa covered a yawn with his fist. He held the envelope in his other hand. “I’m feeling a little under the weather today—might go lie down for a spell. As you were.” He shambled off, scratching his thigh.

“You kids may want to play outside this morning,” Lena said. “Your grandfather was up until forty minutes ago. He had a long night.”