No. But there are beings out there who could. And I would not be able to change her back. Which is why I need to finish this thought: Breaking the rules can include trespassing where you are not allowed. There are geographic boundaries set where certain creatures are allowed and certain creatures, including mortals, are not permitted. The boundaries function as a way to contain the darker creatures without causing an uproar. If you go where you do not belong, you could open the door to vicious retribution from powerful enemies.
So only good creatures can enter the yard, Kendra said.
Grandpa became very serious. None of these creatures are good. Not the way we think of good. None are safe.
Much of morality is peculiar to mortality. The best creatures here are merely not evil.
The fairies aren't safe? Seth asked.
They aren't out to harm anyone, or I wouldn't allow them in the yard. I suppose they are capable of good deeds, but they would not normally do them for what we would consider the right reasons. Take brownies, for instance.
Brownies don't fix things to help people. They fix things because they enjoy fixing things.
Do the fairies talk? Kendra asked.
Not much to humans. They have a language all their own, although they rarely speak to each other, except to trade insults. Most never condescend to use human speech.
They consider everything beneath them. Fairies are vain, selfish creatures. You may have noticed I drained all the fountains and the birdbaths outside. When they are full, the fairies assemble to stare at their reflections all day.
Is Kendra a fairy? Seth asked.
Grandpa bit his lip and stared at the floor, obviously trying to choke back a laugh. We had a mirror outside once and they flocked around it, Kendra said, studiously ignoring both the comment and the reaction. I wondered what the heck was going on.
Grandpa regained his composure. Exactly the sort of display I was trying to avoid by draining the birdbaths.
Fairies are remarkably conceited. Outside of a sanctuary like this one, they won't even let a mortal glimpse them.
Since they consider looking at themselves the ultimate delight, they deny the pleasure to others. Most of the nymphs have the same mentality.
Why don't they care here? Kendra asked.
They still care. But they can't hide when you drink their milk, so they have reluctantly grown accustomed to mortals seeing them. I have to laugh sometimes. The fairies pretend not to care what mortals think about them, but try giving one a compliment. She'll blush, and the others will crowd in for their turn. You would think they'd be embarrassed.
I think they're pretty, Seth said.
They're gorgeous! Grandpa agreed. And they can be useful. They handle most of my gardening. But good? Safe?
Not so much.
Kendra swallowed the last of her hot chocolate. So if we don't go into the woods or the barn, and don't bother the fairies, we'll be fine?
Yes. This house and the yard around it is the most protected location in Fablehaven. Only the gentlest creatures are allowed here. Of course, there are a few nights a year when all the creatures run amuck, and one of those is coming up. But I'll tell you more about it when the time comes.
Seth scooted forward in his chair. I want to hear about the evil creatures. What's out there?
For the sake of your ability to sleep at night, I'm going to keep that to myself.
I met that weird old lady. Was she really something else?
Grandpa gripped the edge of the desk. That encounter is a frightening example of why the woods are forbidden. It could have been disastrous. You ventured toward a very hazardous area.
Is she a witch? Seth asked.
She is. Her name is Muriel Taggert.
How come I could see her?
Witches are mortal.
Then why don't you get rid of her? Seth suggested.
The shack is not her home. It is her prison. She personifies the reasons why exploring the woods is unwise. Her husband was a caretaker here more than a hundred and sixty years ago. She was an intelligent, lovely woman. But she became a frequent visitor to some of the darker portions of the forest, where she consorted with unsavory beings. They tutored her. Before long, she became enamored with the power of witchcraft, and they acquired considerable influence over her. She became unstable. Her husband tried to help her, but she was already too demented.
When she tried to aid some of the foul denizens of the woods in a treacherous act of rebellion, her husband called in assistance and had her imprisoned. She has been trapped in that shack ever since, held captive by the knots in the rope you saw. Let her story serve as another warning-you have no business in those woods.
I get it, Seth said. He looked solemn.
Enough jabbering about rules and monsters, Grandpa said, standing up. I have chores. And you have a new world to explore. The day is fading, go make the most of it.
But stay in the yard.
What do you do all day? Kendra inquired, walking out of the study beside Grandpa.
Oh, I have many chores to keep this place in order.
Fablehaven is home to many extraordinary wonders and delights, but it requires a great deal of maintenance. You might be able to accompany me some of the time, now that you know the true nature of the place. Mundane work, mostly. I expect you'd have more fun playing in the garden.
Chapter Seven
Kendra laid a hand on Grandpa's arm. I want to see as much as I can.
Maddox Kendra snapped awake with her sheets tented over her head. She was supposed to be excited about something.
It felt like Christmas morning. Or a day she was going to take off school so her family could visit an amusement park. No, she was at Grandpa Sorenson's. The fairies!
She pushed off the sheets. Seth lay in a contorted position, hair wildly disheveled, mouth open, legs tangled in his covers. Still out cold. They had stayed up late discussing the events of the day, almost like friends rather than siblings.
Kendra rolled out of bed and padded over to the window.
The sun was peeking over the eastern horizon, streaming gilded highlights across the treetops. She grabbed some clothes, went down to the bathroom, took off her nightshirt, and got dressed for the day.
Downstairs, the kitchen was empty. Kendra found Lena out on the porch balancing atop a stool. Lena was hanging wind chimes. She had already hung several along the length of the porch. A butterfly flitted around one of the chimes, playing a sweet, simple melody.
Good morning, Lena said. You're up early.
I'm still so excited from yesterday. Kendra looked out at the garden. The butterflies, bumblebees, and hummingbirds were already going about their business. Grandpa was right-many clustered around the newly refilled birdbaths and fountains, admiring their reflections.
Just a bunch of bugs again, Lena said.