Fablehaven: The Complete Series (99 page)

Seth had never seen Grandpa Sorenson look so defeated. How could he revive him? He spoke up quickly. “The first time, I caused all the trouble. The second time, Vanessa betrayed us. You never did anything wrong.”

“And this time?” Grandpa asked, his voice calm and sad. “Not only did I inadvertently let your sister end up on a dangerous mission thousands of miles away, I also sent my oldest friend to his grave. How did I miss the warning signs?”

“The only thing that could make you unfit to lead would be belief in such nonsense,” Tanu said gently. “Nobody could have seen this coming. You think Coulter or I would have approached the fairies so haphazardly had we sensed the danger? These are turbulent times. Fablehaven has been under deliberate assault from formidable foes. You’ve come through it so far, and so have we. I’ve traveled far and wide, and I can’t think of anybody I would rather have watching over this preserve than you, Stan.”

“I’ll second that,” Dale said. “Don’t forget who’d most likely end up assigning the new caretaker if you resigned without appointing a successor.”

“The Sphinx?” guessed Seth.

“His is the most trusted voice among the conservators,” Grandpa admitted.

“Coulter is probably alive somewhere,” Tanu said. “Pull yourself together, Stan. We need a plan.”

“Thanks, Tanu, Dale, Seth.” Grandpa pursed his lips, his eyes hardening. “We need information. The Sphinx is proving to be unreachable. Given the extremity of our circumstances, I think it’s time to investigate what else Vanessa knows.”

* * *

Slaggo and Voorsh led a skinny, birdlike humanoid down the dank dungeon corridor. The manacled prisoner had a head like a seagull and was covered with gray, molting feathers. Slaggo held a torch, and Grandpa walked alongside, shining a flashlight on the threesome. When the flashlight beam strayed too high, reflecting off the birdman’s beady black eyes, he threw his head back and let out a fierce squawk. Voorsh yanked on a chain fastened to an iron collar, making the grungy birdman stumble sideways. Grandpa switched off the flashlight.

“Ready?” Grandpa asked, eyeing Tanu, Dale, and Grandma. Tanu held handcuffs, Dale clutched a truncheon, and Grandma gripped a crossbow. They each gave a single nod.

Grandpa opened the front of the Quiet Box, revealing an empty space where a person could stand. The goblin wardens guided the birdman into the compartment. Grandpa closed the door and the box rotated halfway around, exposing an identical door on the opposite side. Grandpa opened the door and revealed Vanessa standing inside, wearing one of Grandma’s old housecoats, a faint smile on her lips, the torchlight accenting her elegant features. Her skin had less color than the last time Seth had seen her, but her dark eyes smoldered. He had to admit she remained strikingly beautiful.

“How long has it been?” she asked, stepping out of the box and extending her hands so Tanu could cuff them.

“Six weeks,” Grandpa said, as Tanu secured the handcuffs.

“Where are my animals?”

“We released some,” Grandpa said. “Others we gave away to those capable of caring for them.”

Vanessa nodded as if satisfied. Her faint smile stretched into a smirk. “Let me guess. Kendra is no longer here, and some disaster is transpiring at Fablehaven.”

Grandpa and Grandma exchanged a wary glance. “How did you know?” Grandma asked.

Vanessa stretched her cuffed hands high above her head and arched her back. She closed her eyes. “Certain precautions the Sphinx takes are predictable once you understand how he operates. It’s the same way I anticipated that he was going to backstab me and lock me away in that miserable box.”

“How did you predict this?” Grandpa asked.

Keeping her legs straight, Vanessa bent forward and touched the ground between her feet. “You released me from the box, and you all look serious, so obviously there has been trouble. Consider the circumstances. The Sphinx cannot afford to let his identity as the leader of the Society of the Evening Star be discovered. Even without the note I left, there were enough clues to what he was doing that you might have eventually become suspicious. He successfully acquired the artifact and freed the previous occupant of the Quiet Box. He had no more use for this preserve. Therefore, his next move would probably be to set some plan in motion to destroy Fablehaven and all of you with it—except Kendra, who he suspects may still be useful. I’m sure he created an excuse to get her away from here just in time. You’re all in tremendous danger. You see, when the Sphinx commits a crime, he disposes of all the evidence. Then, to be safe, he burns down the neighborhood.” Vanessa swung her handcuffed arms from side to side, twisting at her waist. “I can’t tell you how nice it feels to stretch.”

“Can you guess how he is trying to destroy Fablehaven?” Grandpa asked.

Vanessa arched an eyebrow. “Some of the Sphinx’s strategies are predictable. His methods are not. But whatever he has set in motion will probably be impossible to stop. Fablehaven is doomed. I expect I would be safer if you just put me back in the Quiet Box.”

“Don’t worry, Vanessa,” Grandma said. “We will.”

“I take it you don’t fully comprehend the current threat?” Vanessa asked Grandpa.

“It is like nothing we’ve ever seen.”

“Tell me about it; maybe I can help. I’ve been working for the Society for some time now.” Vanessa started jogging in place, lifting her knees high.

“Creatures at Fablehaven are turning dark,” Grandpa said. “The change has been most evident in the nipsies and fairies so far—creatures of light who are transforming in appearance and attitude into creatures of darkness. I’m not talking about fairies falling and becoming imps. We’ve seen fairies draped in shadow using their magic to wither and ruin rather than to nourish and beautify.”

“And the condition is spreading?” Vanessa asked, legs pumping rapidly.

“Like a magical plague,” Grandpa said. “Making matters worse, the dark fairies can cross all the same boundaries as the light fairies, including into the yard.”

An expression of admiration appeared on her face. “Leave it to the Sphinx to invent new ways to eradicate preserves. I’ve never heard of an epidemic like you’re describing. Let me guess. Even doubting the Sphinx, you’ve turned to him for help, but heard nothing.”

Grandpa nodded.

“He is not replying because he expects you will soon be dead. You have two options. Abandon the preserve. Or try to figure out how to stop this plague the Sphinx has created, fail, and then abandon the preserve. My guess is you’ll go with the second choice.”

“Abandoning Fablehaven is not an option,” Grandpa said. “Not until we do all we can to save it. Certainly not until we learn the secret behind this plague so we can prevent it from recurring elsewhere.”

Vanessa stopped high-stepping, panting lightly. “Whether or not you can salvage Fablehaven, trying to discover the nature of the plague makes sense. Any leads?”

“Not yet,” Grandpa said. “Only today did we realize how virulently the condition is spreading.”

“I could help if you let me,” Vanessa offered. “Magical creatures are my specialty.”

“Along with controlling victims in their sleep,” Grandma reminded everyone.

“You could post a guard,” Vanessa suggested.

“We promised ourselves before we opened the box that you would be going back inside,” Grandpa said.

“Very well, when all else fails and you change your minds, you’ll know where to find me,” she said. “The Quiet Box isn’t as bad as I expected, really. After standing there waiting in the darkness for a while, you slip into a trance. Not full sleep, but you shut down, lose all sense of time. I was never hungry or thirsty—although I could use a drink now.”

“Can you offer us sure evidence that the Sphinx is a traitor?” Grandma asked.

“Proof will be hard to come by. I know the names of other traitors. I was not the only one to infiltrate the Knights of the Dawn. And I know one secret that would absolutely blow your minds. But of course I’ll divulge further information along those lines only in exchange for my freedom. Where is Kendra, by the way?” She asked the question with pretended innocence.

“Helping with a covert mission,” Grandpa said.

Vanessa laughed. “Is he extracting another artifact so soon?”

“I said nothing about—”

Vanessa laughed louder, cutting him off. “Right,” she chuckled. “Kendra’s not in Arizona or Australia. Still, hard to believe, after all this time, the Sphinx has stopped pacing himself and is sprinting for the finish line. Any clue who went with her?”

“We’ve told her enough,” Grandma said.

“Fine,” Vanessa said. “Good luck with the Sphinx. Good luck with the plague. And good luck with seeing Kendra again.” She stepped backwards into the Quiet Box, regarding them smugly.

“And good luck with getting out of there,” Grandma said. Vanessa’s eyes widened as Grandma slammed the door. Grandma turned to the others. “I’ll not have her trying to use our fears to hold us hostage.”

“We may eventually need her help,” Grandpa said.

The Quiet Box turned, and Grandma opened the door. Slaggo and Voorsh took custody of the birdlike man. “I’m willing to work twice as hard in hopes of avoiding that eventuality.”

“We lack communication with Warren, so Vanessa’s knowledge of possible traitors won’t help Kendra in the near future,” Grandpa said. “Vanessa can offer no proof that the Sphinx is the leader of the Society. And it sounds like she’d be guessing as much as we are as to how to combat this plague. I suppose we can refrain from further questions for now.”

“What now?” Seth asked.

“We need to determine how this plague started,” Grandpa said, “in order to find a way to stop it.”

Chapter 7

Lost Mesa

The empty dirt road extended into the distance ahead of Kendra until it faded in a blur of shimmering heat. Her view of the desert landscape wobbled as the pickup jounced over the washboard surface of the desolate lane. It was rough country—uneven plains interrupted by rocky gorges and sheer plateaus. Lukewarm air gushed from the dashboard vents, refusing to actually get cool.

They had not stayed on roads the entire time. Part of the ride had taken them over miles of trackless terrain, emphasizing the isolation of their hidden destination. Driving directions from an Internet search were not going to lead a traveler anywhere near Lost Mesa.

The driver was a quiet Navajo man with leathery skin, probably in his fifties. He wore a spotless white cowboy hat and a bolo tie. Kendra had tried to engage him in conversation—he answered all direct questions, but never elaborated or made inquiries of his own. His name was Neil. He had been married once for less than a year. He had no kids. He had worked at Lost Mesa since his teenage years. He agreed that the day was hot.

Warren, Dougan, and Gavin all reclined in the bed of the pickup with the luggage, wearing hats that shielded their faces from the sun. All Kendra had to do was remember how hot and dusty they were to silence any possible complaints about the truck’s feeble air conditioner.

“Almost there,” Neil said, the first unsolicited words he had uttered since “I’ll take your suitcase” back at the small airport in Flagstaff.

Kendra leaned forward, scanning up ahead for a landmark besides sun-baked dirt and turquoise sagebrush. The only feature out of the ordinary was a low barbed-wire fence coming into view, with a battered wooden gate that spanned the road. The three-wire fence stretched out of sight in either direction. A faded No Trespassing sign hung on the gate, red background with white letters.

“I don’t see much besides a fence,” Kendra said.

Neil glanced at her, eyes so squinted they looked closed. “You see the fence?”

“Sure. Barbed wire. Does it keep anybody out?”

“I’ve been driving this road thirty years,” he said. “I still can’t see the fence till after I pass it. Powerful distracter spell. I have to focus on the road. It’s tough every time, fighting the urge to turn around, even though I know exactly where I’m going.”