Fablehaven (Page 17)

You would have lived forever, Kendra exclaimed.

We weren’t quite immortal. We did not age, so I suppose some of our kind could endure forever, if lakes and rivers last forever. Difficult to say. We did not really live, not like mortals. We dreamed.

Wow.

At least that was the way of things until Patton, Lena said, more to herself now. I began looking forward to his visits, and back on them in memory. I suppose that was the beginning of the end.

Kendra shook her head. And I thought you were just the half-Chinese housekeeper.

She smiled. Patton always liked my eyes. She batted them. He said he was of the Asian persuasion.

What’s Dale’s story? Is he a pirate king or something?

Dale is a regular man. A second cousin of your grandfather.

A man he trusts.

Kendra looked into her empty mug. A ring of chocolate sediment circled the bottom. I have a question, she said, and I want you to answer honestly.

If I can.

Is my Grandma Sorenson dead?

What makes you ask that?

I think Grandpa makes up phony excuses for her not being around. This is a dangerous place. He has lied about other things. I get the feeling he’s trying to protect us from the truth.

I often wonder if lies are ever a protection.

She’s dead, isn’t she.

No, she’s alive.

Is she the witch?

She’s not the witch.

Is she really visiting Aunt Whoever in Missouri?

That is for your grandfather to tell.

Seth looked over his shoulder. Besides the fairies fluttering about, the garden looked still. Grandpa and Dale were long gone. Lena was in the house dusting. Kendra was off doing whatever boring things kept her occupied. He had his emergency kit in hand, along with a few strategic additions. Operation See Cool Monsters was about to begin.

He hesitantly stepped off the edge of the lawn into the woods, half-expecting werewolves to leap out at him.

There were a few fairies up ahead, not as many as in the garden. Otherwise things looked pretty much the same.

He marched forward, setting a brisk pace.

Where do you think you’re going?

Seth whirled. Kendra was approaching from the garden.

He walked back to meet her at the edge of the lawn. I want to see what’s really at the pond. Those nai-thingies and stuff.

How brain-damaged are you? Didn’t you hear a word Grandpa told us yesterday?

I’m going to be careful! I won’t go near the water.

You could get killed! I mean really killed, not bitten by a tick. Grandpa made those rules for a reason!

Adults always underestimate kids, Seth said. They get all protective because they think we’re babies. Think about it. Mom used to complain all the time about me playing in the street. But I always did it. And what happened?

Nothing. I paid attention. I stayed out of the way when a car came.

This is so different!

Grandpa goes all over the place.

Kendra clenched her hands into fists. Grandpa knows the places to avoid! You don’t even know what you’re dealing with. Besides, when Grandpa finds out, you’ll be stuck in the attic the rest of our stay.

How’s he going to find out?

He knew we went into the woods last time! He knew we drank the milk!

Because you were there! Your bad luck rubbed off on me. How did you know where I was going?

Your secret agent skills need some work, Kendra said.

A good start might be not wearing your camouflage shirt every time you go exploring.

I need to hide from the dragons!

Right. You’re practically invisible. Just a floating head.

I have my emergency kit. If anything attacks, I can scare it away with my gear.

With rubber bands?

I have a whistle. I have a mirror. I have a cigarette lighter. I have firecrackers. They’ll think I’m a wizard.

Do you really believe that?

And I have this. He pulled out the little skull in the crystal globe from Grandpa’s desk. That should make them think twice.

A skull the size of a peanut?

There probably aren’t even any monsters, Seth said.

What makes you think Grandpa’s telling the truth this time?

I don’t know, maybe the fairies?

Well, good job. You blew it. Congratulate yourself. I can’t go now.

I’m going to blow it every time. Not to be a jerk, but because you could really get hurt.

Seth kicked a stone, sending it skidding into the woods. What am I supposed to do now?

How about exploring the enormous garden full of fairies?

I already did. I can’t catch them.

Not to catch them. To look at magical creatures that nobody else even knows exist. Come on.

He reluctantly joined her.

Oh, look, another fairy, he mumbled. Now I’ve seen a million.

Don’t forget to put the skull back.

When they responded to the call for dinner, a stranger sat at the table along with Grandpa and Dale. The stranger stood when they entered. He was taller than Grandpa and much broader, with curly brown hair. The layers of furry skins he wore made him look like a mountain man. He was missing the bottom of one earlobe.

Kids, this is Maddox Fisk, Grandpa said. Maddox, meet my grandchildren, Kendra and Seth. Kendra shook the man’s calloused, thick-fingered hand.

Do you work here too? Seth asked.

Maddox is a fairy broker, Grandpa said.

Among other things, Maddox added. Call fairies my specialty.

You sell fairies? Kendra asked, taking a seat.

Trap them, buy them, trade them, sell them. All of the above.

How do you trap them? Seth asked.

A man has to keep his trade secrets private, Maddox said, taking a bite of pork roast. Let me tell you, apprehending a fairy is no easy task. Slippery critters. The trick usually involves appealing to their vanity. Even then, takes quite a bit of know-how.

Could you use an apprentice? Seth inquired.

Hold that thought about six years. Maddox winked at Kendra.

Who buys fairies? Kendra asked.

Folks who run preserves, like your granddad. A few private collectors. Other brokers.

Are there lots of preserves? Seth asked.

Dozens, Maddox replied. They’re on all seven continents.

Even Antarctica? Kendra asked.

Two in Antarctica, although one is underground.

Harsh environment. Perfect for certain species, though.

Kendra swallowed a bite of pork. What keeps people from discovering the sanctuaries?

There has been a worldwide network of dedicated people keeping the preserves secret for thousands of years, Grandpa said. They are backed by ancient fortunes, held in trust. Bribes get paid. Locations are changed when necessary.

Helps that most folks are unable to see the little critters, Maddox said. With the right licenses, you can get butterflies through customs. When you can’t, there are other ways to cross borders.

The preserves are the final refuge for many ancient and wonderful species, Grandpa said. The goal is to prevent these wondrous beings from passing out of existence.