"Tanu is coming back," Seth reminded them. "Maybe he can slip Dad some more of that tea."
"We need to get beyond temporary remedies," Grandma said. "The current threats could persist for years. Perhaps the Society of the Evening Star has lost interest in you now that the artifact is no longer at Fablehaven. But my instincts tell me otherwise."
"As do mine," Grandpa agreed, giving Kendra a significant stare.
"Can we force Mom and Dad to see through the illusion hiding the creatures here?" Kendra asked. "Just give them milk and point them toward the fairies? Take them into the barn to see Viola?"
Grandpa shook his head. "I'm not sure. Total unbelief is a powerful inhibitor. It can blind an individual to obvious truths, no matter what others do or say."
"The milk wouldn't work on them?" Seth asked.
"It might not," Grandpa said. "That is part of the reason I let people discover the secrets of Fablehaven through finding clues. First off, it gives them a choice about whether or not they want to know the truth about this place. And secondly, the curiosity wears down their unbelief. It doesn't require much belief for the milk to work, but complete unbelief can be tough to overcome."
"And you think Mom and Dad have no belief in them?"
Kendra asked.
"As to the possibility of mythical creatures actually existing, they appear to have none at all," Grandpa said. "I left them much more obvious clues than I provided for you and Seth."
"I even had a conversation with them where I all but told them the truth about Fablehaven and my role here," Grandma said. "I stopped once I could see they were gawking at me like I belonged in an asylum."
"In some ways their unbelief is good for their safety,"
Grandpa said. "It can be a protection from the influence of dark magic."
Seth scowled. "Are you saying that magical creatures only exist if we believe in them?"
Grandpa dabbed at his lips with a napkin. "No. They exist independent of our belief. But usually some belief is necessary in order for us to interact with them. Furthermore, most magical creatures dislike unbelief enough to steer clear of it, in much the same way you or I might avoid an offensive odor. Unbelief is part of the reason many creatures chose to flee to these preserves."
"Would it be possible for any of us to stop believing in magical creatures?" Kendra wondered.
"Don't bother," Coulter huffed. "Nobody could try harder than I have. Most of us just make the best of it."
"Gets pretty hard to doubt once you've interacted with them," Dale agreed. "Belief hardens into knowledge."
"There are some who learn of this life and then flee it," Grandma said. "They avoid the preserves and substances like Viola's milk that can open their eyes. By turning their backs on all things magical, they let their knowledge lie dormant."
"Sounds like good sense to me," Coulter muttered.
"Your Grandma and Grandpa Larsen retired prematurely from their involvement with our secret society," Grandpa said. "Grandma and Grandpa Larsen knew about magical creatures?" Seth exclaimed.
"As much as we do or more," Grandma said. "They ended their involvement around the time Seth was born. We all had such high hopes for your parents. We introduced them to one another and quietly encouraged their courtship.
When Scott and Maria refused to show interest in oursecret, your Grandma and Grandpa Larsen seemed to lose their commitment."
"We had been friends with the Larsens since your parents were children," Grandpa mentioned.
"Wait a minute," Kendra said. "Did Grandma and Grandpa Larsen really die accidentally?"
"As far as we have ever been able to tell, yes," Grandma said.
"They had retired from our community ten years prior," Grandpa said. "It was simply a tragic mishap."
"I never guessed that they would have known about the secret preserves," Seth said. "They didn't seem like the type."
"They were very much the type," Grandma assured them. "But they were good at keeping secrets, and at playing roles. They did a fair amount of spying for our cause back in the day. Both were involved with the Knights of the Dawn."
Kendra had never considered the possibility that her deceased grandparents might have shared the secret knowledge held by the Sorensons. It made her miss them more than ever. It would have been so nice to share this amazing secret with them! Strange how two couples who knew the secret both had kids who refused to believe. "How will we ever convince Mom and Dad to let us stay here?" Kendra asked.
"Let your Grandpa and me keep working on that," Grandma promised with a wink. "We still have another week or so."
They finished the meal in silence. Everyone thanked Coulter for the meat loaf as they cleared the table together.
Grandpa led the way into the living room, where each of them found a seat. Kendra thumbed through an antique book of fairy tales. Before long, a key rattled and the front door opened. Tanu entered, a tall Samoan with heavy, sloping shoulders. One of his thickly muscled arms hung bandaged in a sling. A satchel bulging with odd shapes dangled from the potion master's opposite shoulder. Behind him came Warren, wearing a leather jacket, his chin stubbly with three-day whiskers.
"Tanu!" Seth ran up to the big Samoan. "What happened?"
"This?" Tanu asked, indicating the injured arm.
"Yeah."
"Botched manicure," he said, dark eyes twinkling.
"I'm back too," Warren hinted.
"Sure, but you weren't sneaking onto a fallen preserve in South America," Seth told him dismissively.
"I had some close calls of my own," Warren mumbled. "Cool ones."
"We're glad you both made it back safely," Grandma said. Warren scanned the living room and leaned toward Tanu. "Looks like we arrived late for a meeting."
"We're dying to hear what you found out," Kendra said.
"How about a drink of water?" Warren sniffed. "A little help with our bags? A warm handshake? A guy could get the feeling you only want him for his information."
"Cut the theatrics and have a seat," Dale said. Warren scowled at his older brother.
Tanu and Seth entered the room and took seats next to each other. Warren plopped down on the sofa beside Kendra.
"I'm glad we're all here," Grandpa said. "We in this room represent the only persons aware of the accusation that the Sphinx may be a traitor. It is imperative that we keep it that way. Should the accusation prove true, his vast network of deliberate and inadvertent spies are everywhere. Should the accusation prove false, this is hardly the time to spread rumors that could provoke dissension. Given all we have been through together, I feel sure we can confide in one another."