Fablehaven (Page 21)

I want to know more. All the details.

Be patient. Let it unfold. She turned to the refrigerator and changed the subject. You must be hungry.

A little.

I’ll whip up some eggs. Will Seth want some?

Probably, Kendra said, leaning against the counter.

I’ve been wondering: Is everything from mythology true?

Explain what you mean.

I’ve seen fairies, and evidence of satyrs. Is it all real?

No mythology or religion that I know of holds all the answers. Most religions are based on truths, but they are also polluted by the philosophies and imaginations of men.

I take it your question refers to Greek mythology. Is there a pantheon of petty gods who constantly bicker and interfere in the lives of mortals? I know of no such beings. Are there some true elements to those ancient stories and beliefs? Obviously. You’re talking to a former naiad.

Scrambled?

What?

The eggs.

Sure.

Lena began cracking eggs into a pan. Many of the beings who dwell here existed gracefully when primitive man foraged in ragged tribes. We taught man the secrets of bread and clay and fire. But man became blind to us over time. Interaction with mortals became rare. And then mankind began to crowd us. Explosions in population and technology stole many of our ancient homes. Mankind held no particular malice toward us. We had simply faded into colorful caricatures inhabiting myths and fables.

There are quiet corners of the world where our kind continue to thrive in the wild. And yet the day will inevitably come when the only space remaining to us will be these sanctuaries, a precious gift from enlightened mortals.

It’s so sad, Kendra said.

Do not frown. My kind do not dwell on these concerns.

They forget the fences enclosing these preserves. I should not speak of what used to be. With my fallen mind, I see the changes much more clearly than they do. I feel the loss more keenly.

Grandpa said a night is coming when all the creatures here will run wild.

Midsummer Eve. The festival night.

What’s it like?

I’d better not say. I don’t think your grandfather wants you kids worrying about it until the time comes. He would rather have scheduled your visit to avoid the festival night.

Kendra tried to sound nonchalant. Will we be in danger?

Now I’ve got you worried. You will be fine if you follow the instructions your grandfather gives you.

What about the Society of the Evening Star? Maddox sounded worried about them.

The Society of the Evening Star has always been a threat, Lena admitted. But these preserves have endured for centuries, some for millennia. Fablehaven is well protected, and your grandfather is no fool. You needn’t worry about speculative rumors. I’ll not say more on the subject.

Cheese in your eggs?

Yes, please.

With Kendra gone, Seth got out the equipment he had bundled in his towel, including his emergency kit and the jar he had smuggled from the pantry. The jar was now empty, washed clean in the bathroom sink. Taking out his pocket knife, Seth used the awl to punch holes in the lid.

Unscrewing the top, he gathered bits of grass, flower petals, a twig, and a pebble, and placed them in the jar. Then he wandered across the garden from the pool, leaving the skimmer behind. If skill failed, he would resort to cunning.

He found a good spot not far from a fountain, then took the small mirror from his cereal box and placed it in the jar. Setting the jar on a stone bench, he settled in the grass nearby, lid in hand.

It did not take the fairies long. Several flitted around the fountain. A few drifted over, lazily orbiting the jar.

After a couple of minutes, a small one with wings like a bee landed on the edge of the jar, staring into it. Apparently satisfied, she dropped inside and began admiring herself in the mirror. Soon she was joined by another. And another.

Seth moved slowly closer until he was within reach of the jar. All the fairies exited it. He waited. Some flew off.

New ones came. One entered the jar, followed quickly by two more.

Seth pounced, slapping the lid onto the jar. The fairies were so quick! He expected to catch all three, but two whizzed out just before the lid covered the opening. The remaining fairy pushed against the lid with surprising force.

He screwed it shut.

The fairy inside stood no taller than his little finger.

She had fiery red hair and iridescent dragonfly wings. The incensed fairy pounded her tiny fists noiselessly against the wall of the jar. All around him, Seth heard the tinkling of miniature bells. The other fairies were pointing and laughing.

The fairy in the jar beat against the glass even harder, but to no avail.

Seth had captured his prize.

Grandpa dipped the wand into the bottle and raised it to his lips. As he blew gently, several bubbles streamed from the plastic circle. The bubbles floated across the porch.

You never know what will fascinate them, he said.

But bubbles usually do the trick.

Grandpa sat in a large wicker rocker. Kendra, Seth, and Dale sat nearby. The setting sun streaked the horizon with red and purple.

I try not to bring unnecessary technology onto the property, he continued, dipping the wand again. I just can’t resist with bubbles. He blew, and more bubbles took shape.

A fairy, glowing softly in the fading light, approached one of the bubbles. After considering it for a moment, she touched it, and the bubble turned bright green. Another touch and it was an inky blue. Another and it was gold.

Grandpa kept the bubbles coming, and more fairies came to the porch. Soon all the bubbles were changing colors.

The hues became more luminous as the fairies competed against one another. Bubbles ruptured with flashes of light.

One fairy gathered bubbles until she had assembled a bouquet that resembled a bunch of multicolored grapes.

Another fairy entered a bubble and inflated it from the inside until it tripled in size and burst with a violet flash. A bubble near Kendra appeared to be full of winking fireflies.

One near Grandpa turned to ice, fell to the porch, and shattered.

The fairies flocked near Grandpa, eager for the next bubbles. He kept them coming, and the fairies continued to display their creativity. They filled bubbles with shimmering mist. They linked them in chains. They transformed them into balls of fire. The surface of one reflected like a mirror. Another took on the shape of a pyramid.

Another crackled with electricity.

When Grandpa put the bubble solution away, the fairies gradually dispersed. The dwindling sunset was almost gone. A few fairies played among the chimes, making soft music. Unbeknownst to most of the family, Grandpa said, a few of your cousins have visited me here. None of them came close to figuring out what is really going on.

Didn’t you give them clues? Kendra asked.