No more or less than I gave you. They were not of the proper mind-set.
Was it Erin? Seth asked. She's a goober.
You be kind, Grandpa scolded. What I want to say is that I admire how you children have taken all of this in stride. You have adapted impressively to this unusual place.
Lena said we could have a party with goat people, Seth said.
I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. Why was she talking about satyrs?
We found hoofprints in the kitchen, Kendra said.
Things got a bit out of hand last night, Grandpa admitted. Trust me, Seth, consorting with satyrs is the last thing a boy your age needs.
Then why did you do it? Seth asked.
A visit from a fairy broker is a significant event, and carries certain expectations. I'll concede that the merriment borders on foolishness.
Can I try blowing bubbles? Seth asked.
Another night. I'm planning a special excursion for you tomorrow. In the afternoon I need to visit the granary, and I mean to take you with me, let you see more of the property.
Will we get to see something besides fairies? Seth asked.
Probably.
I'm glad, Kendra said. I want to see everything you're willing to show us.
All in due time, my dear.
From her breathing, Seth was pretty sure Kendra was asleep. He sat up slowly. She did not move. He coughed weakly. She did not twitch.
He eased out of bed and crossed the attic floor to his dresser. Quietly he opened the third drawer down. There she was. Twig, grass, pebble, flower petals, mirror, and all.
In the dark room, her inherent glimmer illuminated the entire drawer.
Her tiny hands were splayed against the wall of the jar, and she looked up at him desperately. She chirped something in a twittering language, motioning for him to open the lid.
Seth glanced over his shoulder. Kendra had not budged.
Goodnight, little fairy, he whispered. Don't worry.
I'll feed you some milk in the morning.
He began shutting the drawer. The panicked fairy redoubled her frantic protestations. It looked like she was about to cry, which made Seth pause. Maybe he would let her go tomorrow.
It's okay, little fairy, he said gently. Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning.
She clasped her hands together and shook them in a pleading motion, begging with her eyes. She was so pretty, that fiery red hair against her creamy skin. The perfect pet.
Way better than a hen. What chicken could set bubbles on fire?
Closing the drawer, he returned to his bed.
Retaliation Seth wiped sleep from the corner of his eye and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Rolling over, he saw that Kendra was not in her bed. Daylight streamed through the window. He stretched, arching his back with a groan. The mattress felt inviting. Maybe he could get up later.
No, he wanted to check on the fairy. He hoped some sleep had calmed her. Kicking off the tangled covers, Seth hurried over to the dresser. Pulling it open, he gasped.
The fairy was gone. In her place was a hairy tarantula with striped legs and shiny black eyes. Had it eaten her? He checked the lid. It was still on tight. Then it registered that he had not consumed any milk yet. This could be the other form the fairy appeared in. He would have expected a dragonfly, but supposed a tarantula was possible.
He also noticed that the mirror in the jar was broken.
Had she smashed it with the pebble? It seemed like a good way to cut herself. No roughhousing, he scolded. I'll be right back.
A round loaf of bread sat on the table, a mottled mixture of white, black, brown, and orange. While Lena sliced it, Kendra took another sip of hot chocolate.
Considering all the ingredients I left out, I thought they might make a jumble pie, Lena said. But calico loaves are equally delicious. Try a piece. She handed Kendra a slice.
They did a great job on the pot, Kendra said. And the table looks perfect.
Better than before, Lena agreed. I like the new beveling. Brownies know their business.
Kendra inspected the slice of bread. The strange coloring continued all the way through, not just on the crust.
She took a bite. Cinnamon and sugar dominated the flavoring.
Eagerly she took another. It tasted like blackberry jam. The next tasted like chocolate with a hint of peanut butter. The following bite seemed saturated with vanilla pudding. It has so many flavors!
And they never clash like they should, Lena said, taking a bite herself.
Feet bare, hair sticking up, Seth trotted into the room.
Good morning, he said. Having breakfast?
You have to try this calico bread, Kendra said.
In a minute, he replied. Can I have a cup of hot chocolate?
Lena filled a mug.
Thank you, he said as she handed it to him. I'll be right back. I forgot something upstairs. He hurried off, drinking from the mug.
He's so weird, Kendra said, taking a bite of what now tasted like banana nut bread.
Up to some mischief, if you ask me, Lena replied.
Seth set the mug on the dresser. Taking a calming breath, he silently prayed that the tarantula would be gone and the fairy would be there. He slid the drawer open.
A hideous little creature glared up from inside the jar.
Baring pointy teeth, it hissed at him. Covered in brown, leathery skin, it stood taller than his middle finger. It was bald, with tattered ears, a narrow chest, a pot belly, and shriveled, spindly limbs. The lips were froglike, the eyes a glossy black, the nose a pair of slits above the mouth.
What did you do to the fairy? Seth asked.
The ugly creature hissed again, turning around. It had a pair of nubs above the bony shoulder blades. The nubs wiggled like the remnants of amputated wings.
Oh, no! What happened to you?
The creature stuck out a long black tongue and slapped the glass with calloused hands. It jabbered something in a foul, raspy language.
What had happened? Why had the beautiful fairy mutated into a revolting little devil? Maybe some milk would help.
Seth snatched the jar from the drawer, grabbed the mug from the dresser, and bolted down the stairs from the attic to the hall. He dashed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
The mug was still a third full. Holding the jar over the sink, he poured some of the hot chocolate onto the lid.
Most ran down the side of the jar, but a little dripped through the holes in the top.
One drop plopped on the creature's shoulder. It angrily motioned for Seth to unscrew the lid, and then pointed at the cup. Apparently it wanted to drink straight from the mug.
Seth examined the room. The window was shut, the door locked. He wadded a towel against the space at the bottom of the door. Inside the jar, the creature made pleading motions and pantomimed drinking from a cup.
Seth unscrewed the lid. With a powerful leap, the creature jumped out, landing on the counter. Crouching, snarling, it glared at Seth.