Fablehaven: The Complete Series (209 page)

Doomsday Capsule

The fairies kept the grounds around the main house of Fablehaven in bloom all year, but as Kendra wandered the perimeter of the yard, the blossoms seemed extra bright, as if springtime lent added splendor even to enchanted gardens. The flowers looked bigger—tulips the size of coffee mugs, roses the size of soup bowls, and sunflowers larger than dinner plates. The colors seemed more vibrant, the grass shockingly green, the flower petals vividly ablaze with electric shades. Fresh perfumes mingled in the air, light and dewy. Gleaming fairies fluttered everywhere, basking in the vernal glory.

Kendra felt certain her perceptions of the garden’s enhanced beauty had nothing to do with her mood. It had been three days since the group had returned from Obsidian Waste, and they still had no leads on finding Seth. Warren, Coulter, and Tanu had teleported around the globe using the Translocator, Vanessa had reached out to her best contacts, and Grandpa had tried every method he knew to hail the Sphinx, but none of their efforts had yielded results. The Translocator could take them places they had been before, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that in order to find Seth and her parents, they would have to venture someplace none of them had ever visited.

As Kendra drank in the springtime splendor, she imagined her parents, tied up in a sunless cell, confused, hungry, and ill. While a fairy used sparkling magic to enliven the highlights of a delicate orchid, she pictured her brother, imprisoned in a bottle like some genie in a lamp. Or worse, out of the bottle, dying from a severe chest wound. How was it possible that she was roaming a glorious garden while the rest of her family suffered?

“Hey, grouchy face, is your brother around?”

The voice came from the woods. Looking up, Kendra saw Newel and Doren standing beyond the border of the lawn.

“Seth can’t play,” she informed them. “He was captured by the Society of the Evening Star.”

“The Society?” Doren said. “Oh, no!”

Newel let loose a roaring laugh, slapping his furry thigh and elbowing Doren. “Don’t be daft, Doren, it’s April Fool’s Day. Good one, Kendra!”

Kendra paused. The satyr was right, today was the first of April. Without Seth around to fill the sugar bowl with salt or stick bouillon cubes in the showerheads, she had completely forgotten. “No, I’m really not—” Kendra began, but Newel raised a hand to silence her.

“Before you go on,” Newel chuckled, “I have very important news. Doren and I were strolling past the hill where the Forgotten Chapel used to be, and it has split wide open. Muriel emerged astride Bahumat, and we tailed them as they proceeded to wake up Olloch the Glutton. They’re all heading this way! Quick, fetch Stan!” Newel grimaced with mirth, shoulders quivering with suppressed laughter.

Doren rapped Newel with the back of his hand. “I think she means it. Look at her face.”

Newel put one hand on his hip and held out the other toward Kendra. “It’s called acting, dunderhead. She’s staying in character to try to sell the joke. Which is bad form, by the way, Kendra. Once you’ve been exposed, you’re better off starting fresh with a different ploy later. Don’t try another on me, of course. Hard to kid a kidder.”

“But she was pacing the yard looking all sour before we hailed her,” Doren reminded his friend.

“Acting!” Newel shouted. “She must have seen us coming. She was laying groundwork for the joke. She’d do well on a soap opera. She’s plenty pretty. Kendra, give me a glare like I threatened your boyfriend. Why are you rolling your eyes? Give it a shot! Pretend I’m a casting director.”

“How did it happen?” Doren asked, ignoring Newel.

“A lectoblix shot him with an arrow,” Kendra said, her patience thinning. “Seth took a gaseous potion and ended up trapped in a bottle by an evil wizard. We don’t know where they took him.”

Newel winked. “A good lie is all about the details. Quirky details can help sell a tall tale, but there’s a line where quirky crosses over to ridiculous.”

“Newel would know,” Doren said. “He lives on the ridiculous side.”

Newel turned to face the other satyr, raising his fists like a boxer, hips swaying. “And you, my friend, have just crossed over to the dangerous side.”

Doren didn’t take the bait. “This isn’t an April Fool’s prank. She lost her parents to the Society, and now her brother, the very best human we know.”

“I wish it were a prank,” Kendra said.

Newel dropped out of his fighting stance, uncertainty flickering across his features. Then his knowing look returned. He pointed at both Kendra and Doren. “I get it, you’re both in on it, going for the hard sell. As soon as I soften up and buy it, you have a good laugh. Not bad—somewhat lacking in subtlety, but not bad.”

“Here comes Warren,” Doren said, gesturing toward the house. “He can settle the issue.”

“Can he, now?” Newel said knowingly. “And I suppose he isn’t in on the sham as well? You’re a devious lot, I’ll grant you that much. Next you’ll march in a notary with signed documents.”

Kendra could hardly believe she was having this conversation. She waved at Warren. He looked much better shaved and with his hair cut short. “Any news?”

“Nothing new on Seth yet,” he answered. “But your grandparents want to see us. These two hitting you up for batteries?”

“They’re reminding me that it’s April Fool’s Day,” Kendra said.

“Good day, Warren,” Newel called. “You’re just in time. The shadow plague has started up again! The centaurs are on a rampage!”

“What do Grandma and Grandpa want?” Kendra asked.

“They weren’t specific,” Warren said. “Something in the attic.”

“Sorry, guys,” Kendra said to the satyrs. “I have to go.”

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Doren said.

Kendra gave a nod. “I will.”

“Are you guys filming this?” Newel chortled, eying the surrounding foliage suspiciously. “If so, you’re wasting resources. I am not going to fall for it.”

“See you later,” Kendra called, joining Warren.

“Hey, Kendra,” Newel said. “Before you go, could you lend me a handkerchief? Or some other personal token? I want to get a rise out of Verl, pretend you’ve fallen for him.”

“Oh, that could be good,” Doren snickered.

“Don’t you dare,” Kendra warned over her shoulder. “That isn’t funny, it’s cruel.”

“No crueler than pretending my best friend was kidnapped!” Newel countered.

“What am I?” Doren asked in a mildly offended undertone.

“You’re more like family,” Newel said. “I meant my best human friend. Yours too.”

“He really was kidnapped,” Doren asserted. “She’s not joking.”

“Twenty percent of me believes you,” Newel replied. “I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“Does this have anything to do with Seth?” Kendra asked Warren as they walked toward the house. “If they heard something bad, I’d rather hear it now.”

“This isn’t bad news,” Warren said. “I think they need your help deciphering an inscription.”

Kendra followed Warren into the house, up to her grandparents’ room, and over to the bathroom closet. The heavy door to the secret side of the attic looked like it belonged on a bank vault. Warren spun the combination wheel, hauled the door open, and then pulled it shut behind them as Kendra started up the stairs.

Grandma, Grandpa, Coulter, and Tanu awaited Kendra. A workbench stretched along one wall; wooden cabinets lined the others. Unusual objects littered the room—tribal masks, a mannequin, a huge globe, a timeworn phonograph, a birdcage. Trunks, boxes, and other containers were stacked everywhere, accessible by narrow aisles.

Grandpa smiled at Kendra. They all smiled at her. They had all been smiling a lot since Obsidian Waste. Kendra appreciated their intentions, but the attention felt too much like pity, and only served to emphasize her loss.

“How are you today?” Grandpa asked.

“Is this an April Fool’s joke?” Kendra asked. “If so, don’t bother, Newel and Doren already reminded me about the holiday.”

“We’re not here to jest,” Grandpa said. He glanced at Grandma. “However, it is peculiar that we’ll be opening the capsule on April first.”

“What capsule?” Kendra wondered.

“There are a few secret doors and compartments in this attic,” Grandma explained. “One hidden door leads to a turret. Patton left a time capsule inside the turret, a secret passed down by previous caretakers.”

“Does it have a timer?” Kendra asked. “If it’s set to open today, maybe it
is
 a joke!” Prank or not, she would love to hear from Patton. It was strange to have met him, to have worked alongside him to save Fablehaven, and to know he had passed away long before she was born.

“Patton didn’t call it a time capsule,” Grandpa said. “He called it his Doomsday Capsule. As caretaker of Fablehaven, I was left with instructions not to open it unless the end of the world appeared imminent.”

“You never mentioned this before,” Kendra said.

“It was meant to remain a secret,” Grandpa replied. “But I think the time has come to crack it open. Your grandmother agrees. We’ve run out of leads. We desperately need whatever help we can get.”

“What about Vanessa?” Kendra said. “She’s still keeping secrets.”

Grandpa sighed. “She has hinted that her big secret might be revealed soon. She insists it’s in our best interest for her to keep silent about it a little longer.”

Grandma scowled. “Whatever reasons she gives, I say she’s holding out until she gets her freedom, trying to preserve leverage—assuming there was ever a real secret to begin with.”

“She has steadily provided us with useful info,” Tanu said.

“Useful but not vital,” Coulter huffed.

Grandma took Kendra by the hand. “There are some characters on the outside of the canister that we cannot read. We believe they offer further instructions that may help us finalize our decision.”

“You need me to translate,” Kendra said. “Where is it?”

Coulter led them over to one of the many tall cabinets lining the walls, pulled open the doors, then stepped inside and opened the false back. “We normally keep this cabinet full of junk,” Coulter said. “We recently cleaned it out, since we’ve been weighing whether to open the capsule.”

Kendra passed through the cabinet and down three steps into the cramped, round room of the turret. A steel cylinder rested in the center of the floor, almost as tall as her waist. To Kendra, the writing engraved in the sides of the container looked like English.

Coulter, Grandpa, and Grandma filed into the room, filling the available space around the capsule. Warren and Tanu watched from the cabinet. “Can you read it?” Grandpa asked.

“
Open only in a time of utmost crisis pertaining to Zzyzx and the end of the world,
” Kendra read. “
The key to the capsule must be turned by one who shares my bloodline, and an umite candle must be burning in the room, or else the capsule will destroy itself.
”

“Anything else?” Grandpa asked.

“That’s all I see,” Kendra replied, inspecting the capsule from all directions. She ran a hand along the curved metal surface, feeling the grooves of the writing below her fingers.

“We didn’t know about the candle,” Grandma said. “That could have ended badly.”

“Nor did we know that whoever turned the key had to be related to Patton,” Grandpa said.

“Pays to read the instructions,” Coulter grumbled.

“You have the key?” Kendra asked.

Grandpa held up a long, black key with elaborate teeth. “Your grandmother will have to do the honors.”

“Or Warren,” Grandma added.

“I’ll fetch a candle,” Coulter offered, exiting the turret.

“Where’s Dale?” Kendra asked.

“Keeping the preserve running,” Grandpa said.

Grandma folded her arms. “What would we do without Dale and Hugo?”

“What do you think we’ll find inside?” Warren wondered.

Grandpa shrugged. “Information, probably. A weapon, perhaps. Nothing would surprise me. Knowing Patton, it might hold the final artifact.”

“Are you worried about whether the Sphinx will watch us open it?” Kendra asked.

“This attic is well shielded from prying eyes,” Grandpa said. “Of course, nothing can totally divert the Oculus. If the Sphinx happens to be looking hard at us right now, he’ll see what we’re doing. But we can’t let his possession of the Oculus paralyze us. He can’t possibly spy on us all the time.”

“Even if he could watch us constantly, we would need to remain active,” Grandma said. “As long as the Sphinx holds the Oculus, we’ll need to be as discreet as possible, and hope for a little luck.”

Coulter returned with the candle already lit. “Do I just hold it?”

“Stand near the capsule,” Grandpa instructed. “Ruth, would you do the honors?”