Dale looked mildly distressed at her approach. “I can’t let Lena see you talking to me like this,” he murmured in low tones. “I’m supposed to put the milk out on the sly.”
“I thought nobody knew you put the milk out.”
“Right. See, your grandfather doesn’t know, but Lena does. We try to keep it our secret.”
“I was wondering what the milk tastes like.”
He looked nervous. “Didn’t you hear me last time? You could get . . . shingles. Scabies. Scurvy.”
“Scurvy?”
“This milk is a bacterial stew. That’s why the insects like it so well.”
“I have friends who have tried milk fresh from the cow. They survived.”
“I’m sure those were healthy cows,” Dale said. “These cows are . . . never you mind. Idea is, this ain’t just any milk. It’s highly contaminated. I wash my hands good after even handling the stuff.”
“So you don’t think I should taste it.”
“Not unless you’re aiming for a premature burial.”
“Would you at least take me in the barn to see the cows?”
“See the cows? That would be breaking your grandfather’s rules!”
“I thought the point was we might get hurt,” Kendra said. “I’ll be fine if you’re with me.”
“Your grandfather’s rules are your grandfather’s rules. He has his reasons. I’m not about to go breaking them. Or bending them either.”
“No? Maybe if you let me see the cows, I’ll keep your secret about putting out the milk.”
“Now see, that’s blackmail. I’ll not stand for blackmail.”
“I wonder what Grandpa will say when I tell him at dinner tonight.”
“He’ll likely say you ought to mind your own affairs. Now, with your leave, I have chores to do.”
She watched him walk away with the tin of milk. He surely had acted defensive and strange. There was definitely some mystery surrounding the milk. But all the talk about bacteria made her reluctant to try it. She needed a guinea pig.
* * *
Seth tried a flip off the boulder into the pool, but landed on his back. He never could quite make it all the way around. He surfaced and stroked to the side to try again.
“Nice back-flop,” Kendra said, standing beside the pool. “That was one for the blooper reel.”
Seth climbed out of the water. “I’d like to see you do a better one. Where have you been?”
“I found out a secret.”
“What?”
“I can’t explain. But I can show you.”
“Good as the lake?”
“Not quite. Hurry up.”
Putting a towel over his shoulders, Seth stepped into his sandals. Kendra led him away from the pool through the garden to some flowering shrubs on the outskirts of the yard. Behind the plants lay a large pie tin full of milk where a crowd of hummingbirds were feeding.
“They drink milk?” he asked.
“Yeah, but that isn’t the point. Taste it.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Have you tried it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“I told you, try it and you’ll see.”
Kendra watched curiously as he kneeled by the tin. The hummingbirds dispersed. Seth dipped a finger into the milk and put it on his tongue. “Pretty good. Sweet.”
“Sweet?”
He lowered his head and puckered his lips against the surface of the milk. Pulling back, he wiped his mouth. “Yeah, sweet and creamy. A little warm, though.” Looking beyond Kendra, his eyes bulged. Seth jumped to his feet, screaming and pointing. “What the heck are those?”
Kendra turned. All she saw was a butterfly and a couple of hummingbirds. She looked back at Seth. He was turning in circles, eyes darting around the garden, apparently perplexed and amazed.
“They’re everywhere,” he said in awe.
“What are?”
“Look around. The fairies.”
Kendra stared at her brother. Could the milk have totally fried his brain? Or was he messing around with her? He didn’t appear to be faking. He was over by a rosebush gazing at a butterfly in wonder. Tentatively he reached a hand toward it, but it fluttered out of reach.
He turned back to Kendra. “Was it the milk? This is way cooler than the lake!” His excitement seemed genuine.
Kendra eyed the tin of milk.
Drink the milk.
If Seth was playing a prank, his acting skills had suddenly improved tenfold. She dipped a finger and put it in her mouth. Seth was right. It was sweet and warm. For an instant the sun gleamed in her eyes, making her blink.
She glanced back at her brother, who was creeping up on a small group of hovering fairies. Three had wings like butterflies, one like a dragonfly. She could not suppress a shriek at the impossible sight.
Kendra looked back at the milk. A fairy with hummingbird wings was drinking from her cupped hand. Other than the wings, the fairy looked like a slender woman not quite two inches tall. She wore a glittering turquoise slip and had long, dark hair. When Kendra leaned closer, the fairy zipped away.
There was no way she was really seeing this, right? There had to be an explanation. But the fairies were everywhere, near and far, shimmering in vivid colors. How could she deny what was before her eyes?
As Kendra continued to survey the garden, startled disbelief melted into wonder. Fairies of all conceivable varieties flitted about, exploring blossoms, gliding on the breeze, and acrobatically avoiding her brother.
Roaming the pathways of the garden in a daze, Kendra saw that the fairy women appeared to represent all nationalities. Some looked Asian, some Indian, some African, some European. Several were less comparable to mortal women, with blue skin or emerald green hair. A few had antennae. Their wings came in all varieties, mostly patterned after butterflies, but much more elegantly shaped and radiantly colored. All the fairies gleamed brilliantly, outshining the flowers of the garden like the sun outshines the moon.
Rounding a corner on a pathway, Kendra stopped short. There stood Grandpa Sorenson, wearing a flannel shirt and work boots, arms folded across his chest.
“We need to talk,” he said.
* * *
The grandfather clock tolled the hour, chiming three times after the introductory melody. Sitting in a high-backed leather armchair in Grandpa Sorenson’s study, Kendra wondered if grandfather clocks got their name because only grandparents owned them.
She looked over at Seth, seated in an identical chair. It looked too big for him. These were chairs for adults.
Why had Grandpa Sorenson left the room? Were they in trouble? After all, he had given her the keys that ended up leading her and the guinea pig to sample the milk.
Even so, she could not quit worrying that she had discovered something that was meant to stay hidden. Not only were fairies real, but Grandpa Sorenson had hundreds in his yard.
“Is that a fairy skull?” Seth asked, pointing to the flat-bottomed globe with the thumb-sized skull on Grandpa’s desk.
“Probably,” Kendra said.
“Are we busted?”
“We better not be. There were no rules against drinking milk.”
The study door slid open. Grandpa entered along with Lena, who carried three mugs on a tray. Lena offered Kendra a mug, then Seth and Grandpa. The mug contained hot chocolate. Lena left the room as Grandpa took a seat behind his desk.
“I am impressed how quickly you solved my puzzle,” he said, taking a sip from his mug.
“You
wanted
us to drink the milk?” Kendra said.
“Assuming you were the right kind of people. Frankly, I don’t know you that well. I hoped that the kind of person who would take the trouble to solve my little puzzle would be the kind of person who could handle the notion of a preserve full of magical creatures. Fablehaven would be too much to swallow for most people.”
“Fablehaven?” Seth repeated.
“The name the founders gave this preserve centuries ago. A refuge for mystical creatures, a stewardship passed down from caretaker to caretaker over the years.”
Kendra tried the hot chocolate. It was superb! The flavor made her think of the rosebud chocolates.
“What do you have besides fairies?” Seth asked.
“Many beings, great and small. Which is the true reason the woods are off-limits. There are creatures out there much more perilous than venomous snakes or wild apes. Only certain orders of magical life forms are generally permitted in the yard. Fairies, pixies, and such.” Grandpa took another sip from his mug. “You like the hot chocolate?”
“It’s wonderful,” Kendra said.
“Made from the same milk you sampled in the garden today. Same milk the fairies drink. Just about the only food they’ll eat. When mortals drink it, their eyes are opened to an unseen world. But the effects wear off after a day. Lena will prepare you a cup every morning so you can stop stealing from the fairies.”
“Where does it come from?” Kendra asked.
“We make it special in the barn. We have some dangerous creatures in there, too, so it’s still off-limits.”
“Why’s everything off-limits?” Seth complained. “I’ve been a long way into those woods four times and I’ve always been fine.”
“Four times?” Grandpa said.
“All before the warning,” Seth amended hastily.
“Yes, well, your eyes were not yet opened to what truly surrounded you. And you were fortunate. Even when you were blind to the enchanted creatures populating the forest, there are many places you could have ventured into from which you would not have returned. Of course, now that you can see them, the creatures here can interact with you much more readily, so the danger is much greater.”
“No offense, Grandpa, but is this really the truth?” Kendra asked. “You’ve told us so many versions of why the woods are forbidden.”
“You saw the fairies,” he said.
Kendra leaned forward. “Maybe the milk made us hallucinate. Maybe they were holograms. Maybe you just keep telling us whatever you think we’ll believe.”
“I understand your concern,” Grandpa said. “I wanted to protect you from the truth about Fablehaven unless you sought it out for yourselves. It is not the kind of information I wanted to thrust upon you. That is the truth. What I’m telling you now is the truth. You’ll have ample opportunity to confirm my words.”
“So the animals we saw at the pond were actually other creatures, like how the butterflies were fairies,” Kendra clarified.
“Most assuredly. The pond can be a hazardous place. Return there now, and you would find friendly naiads beckoning you near the water in order to pull you under and drown you.”
“That’s so cruel!” Kendra said.
“Depends on your perspective,” Grandpa said, spreading his hands. “To them, your life is so ridiculously short that to kill you is seen as absurd and funny. No more tragic than squashing a moth. Besides, they have a right to punish trespassers. The island at the center of the pond is a shrine to the Fairy Queen. No mortal is permitted to tread there. I know of a groundskeeper who broke that rule. The moment he set foot on the sacred island, he transformed into a cloud of dandelion fluff, clothes and all. He scattered on the breeze and was never seen again.”
“Why would he go there?” Kendra asked.
“The Fairy Queen is widely considered the most powerful figure in all fairydom. The groundskeeper had a desperate need and went to plead for her assistance. Apparently she was not impressed.”
“In other words, he had no respect for what was off-limits,” Kendra said, giving Seth a meaningful look.
“Precisely,” Grandpa agreed.
“The queen of the fairies lives on that little island?” Seth asked.
“No. It is merely a shrine meant to honor her. Similar shrines abound on my property, and all can be dangerous.”
“If the pond is dangerous, why does it have a boathouse?” Kendra asked.
“A previous caretaker of this preserve had a fascination with naiads.”
“The dandelion guy?” Seth asked.
“A different guy,” Grandpa said. “It’s a long story. Ask Lena about it sometime; I believe she knows the tale.”
Kendra shifted in the oversized chair. “Why do you live in such a scary place?”
Grandpa folded his arms on the desk. “It’s only frightening if you go where you don’t belong. This entire sanctuary is consecrated ground, governed by laws that cannot be broken by the creatures who dwell here. Only on this hallowed soil could mortals interact with these beings with any measure of safety. As long as mortals remain within their boundaries, they are protected by the founding covenants of this preserve.”
“Covenants?” Seth asked.
“Agreements. Specifically, a treaty ratified by all the orders of whimsical life forms who dwell here that affords a measure of security for mortal caretakers. In a world where mortal man has become the dominant force, most creatures of enchantment have fled to refuges like this one.”