Good news! I finally found my copy of Fablehaven 2 days ago! Thanks so much for being patient. Please enjoy Chapter 3 of FrF.
Vanessa walked up to Tanu with the Sphinx. "I had a turn of watching this guy while you read, now it's my turn.
So they made the switch. Tanu handed Vanessa the book, and walked with the Sphinx back to where he had been standing with Vanessa. Vanessa looked down at the chapter title, looked up, and smiled her narcoblix smile, which for some soon-to-be-known reason gave Seth the chills.
"Chapter Three: The Ivy Shack."
Seth groaned. This was going to be a little embarassing.
Seth pressed through dense undergrowth until he reached a faint, crooked path, the kind made by animals. Nearby stood a squat, gnarled tree with thorny leaves and black bark. Seth examined his sleeves for ticks, scrutinizing the camouflage pattern. So far he had not seen a single tick. Of course, it would probably be the ticks he failed to see that would get him. He hoped the insect repellent he had sprayed on was helping.
"Resourceful boy," said the Fairy Queen, to no one in particular.
Stooping, he collected rocks and built a small pyramid to mark the point where he had intersected the path. Finding his way back would probably be no problem, but better safe than sorry. If he took too long, Grandpa might figure out he had disobeyed orders.
"He figured it out anyways," said Kendra.
"Because you snitched on me!" Seth retorted.
"Shhhhhh!" shushed their mother.
Rummaging in his cereal box, Seth withdrew a compass. The animal track ran northeast. He had set off on an easterly course, but the undergrowth had grown denser as he progressed. A faint trail was a good excuse to veer slightly off course. It would be much easier going than trying to hack his way through shrubbery with a pocketknife. He wished he owned a machete.
"Maybe when you're older, honey," said Marla.
"Mom, I've used a legendary sword, and you won't let me have a machete?" Seth asked. Marla just chuckled and shook her head, turning back to Vanessa.
Seth followed the trail. The tall trees stood fairly close together, diffusing the sunlight into a greenish glow laced with shadows. Seth imagined that the forest would be black as a cave after nightfall.
Something rustled in the bushes. He paused, removing a small pair of plastic binoculars from his cereal box. Scanning the area, he spotted nothing of interest.
Embarrassed of what was to come, Seth hung his head into his hands.
He proceeded along the trail until an animal emerged from the undergrowth onto the path not twenty feet ahead. It was a round, bristly creature no taller than his knees. A porcupine. The animal started down the path in his direction with complete confidence. Seth froze. The porcupine was close enough that he could discern the individual quills, slender and sharp.
As the animal trundled toward him, Seth backed away. Weren't animals supposed to flee from humans? Maybe it had rabies. Or maybe it just hadn't seen him. After all, he was wearing a camouflage shirt.
Seth spread his arms wide, stomped a foot, and growled. The porcupine looked up, twitched its nose, and then turned from the path.
"Seth! You scared that poor porcupine!" scolded Doren.
"Shame on you," said Newel. The two satyrs looked at each other for a moment, then busted out laughing.
"When you are done laughing at me, can we just continue?" asked Seth.
Newel wiped a tear from his eye. "Go on."
Vanessa glanced at them sceptically before continuing.
Seth listened as it pushed its way through foliage away from the trail.
He took a deep breath. He had been really scared for a minute there. He could almost feel the quills pricking through his jeans into his leg. It would be pretty hard to conceal his excursion into the woods if he came home looking like a pincushion.
There were scattered chuckles as everybody chuckled at the mental image of Seth covered with porcupine needles.
Though he dreaded admitting it, he wished Kendra had come. The porcupine probably would have made her scream, and her fear would have increased his bravery. He could have made fun of her instead of feeling frightened himself.
Seth turned a very, very, very bright pink.
He had never seen a porcupine in the wild before. He was surprised how exposed he felt staring at all those pointy quills. What if he stepped on one in the undergrowth?
He looked around. He had come a long way. Of course, finding his way back would be no trick. He just needed to backtrack along the trail and then head west. But if he turned for home now, he might never make it back this way again. Seth continued along the trail. Some of the trees had moss and lichen growing on them. A few had ivy twisting around their bases. The path forked. Checking his compass, Seth saw that one went northwest, the other due east, staying with his theme, Seth turned east.
"If you had turned the other way, you probably would have ended up at our tennis court," said Newel.
"You guys have a tennis court?" asked Bracken.
"We sure do," replied Newel "We've got all the equipment, too. Rackets, balls, you name it." Impressed, Bracken turned back to Vanessa, who was still reading.
There began to be more space between the trees, and the shrubs grew closer to the ground. Soon he could see much farther in all directions, and the forest became a little brighter. To one side of the path, at the limit of his sight, he noticed something abnormal. It looked like a long square of ivy hidden among the trees.
"Muriel," Stan muttered, angry at the memory of being turned into a chimp.
The whole point of exploring the woods was to find strange things, so he left the path and walked toward the ivy square.
The dense undergrowth came up to his shins, grasping at his ankles with every step. As he tromped toward the square, he realized it was a structure completely overgrown with ivy. It appeared to be a big shed.
He stopped and looked more closely. The ivy was thick enough that he could not tell what the shed was made of – he could see only leafy vines. He walked around the structure. On the far side a door stood open. Seth almost cried out when he peered inside.
The shed was actually a shack constructed around a large tree stump. Beside the stump, dressed in crude rags, sat a wiry old woman gnawing at a knot in a bristly rope. Shriveled with age, she clutched the rope in bony hands with knobby knuckles. Her long, white hair was matted and had a sickly yellowish tint. One of her filmy eyes was terribly bloodshot. She was missing teeth, and there was blood on the knot she was chewing, apparently from her gums. Her pale arms, bare almost to the shoulder, were thin and wrinkled, with faint blue veins and a few purple scabs.
When the woman saw Seth, she dropped the rope immediately wiping pink saliva from the corners of her meager lips.
"That is disgusting," said Kendra.
Supporting herself against the stump, she stood up. He noticed her long feet, the color of ivory, peppered with insect bites. Her gray toenails looked thick with fungus.
Kendra looked like she was about to puke.
"Hail, young master, what brings you to my home?" Her voice was incongruently melodious and smooth.
For a moment, Seth could only stare. Even as bent and crooked as she was, the woman was tall. She smelled . "You live out here?" he finally said.
"I do. Care to come inside?"
"Probably not. I'm just out for a walk."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Strange place for a boy to walk alone."
"I like exploring. My grandpa owns this land."
"Owns it, you say?"
"Does he know you're here?" asked Seth.
"Oh yes, I definitely knew she was there." said Stan. Kendra noted a hint of hate in that statement.
"Depends who he is."
"Stan Sorenson."
She grinned. "He knows."
The rope she had chewed lay on the dirt floor. It had one other knot besides the one that she had been gnawing.
"Why were you biting the rope?" Seth asked.
She eyed him suspiciously. "I don't care for knots."
"Are you a hermit?"
"You could say that. Come inside and I will brew some tea."
"How would she brew tea in a shack in the middle of the woods?" asked Marla. Nobody answered.
"I better not."
She looked down at her hands. "I must look frightful. Let me show you something." She turned and crouched behind the stump. A rat ventured a few steps out of a hole in a corner of the shack. When she came back from behind the stump, the rat hid.
The old woman sat with her back to the stump. She held a little wooden puppet about nine inches high. It looked primitive, made entirely of dark wood, with no clothes or painted features. Just a basic human figure with tiny gold hooks serving as joints. The puppet had a stick in its back. The woman set a paddle on her lap.
"That sounds like a smaller version of Mendigo," noted Scott, looking in the fields, where the human-sized servant was working
"It is Mendigo, dad" said Kendra.
She began making the puppet dance by bobbing the stick and and tapping the paddle. There was a musical regularity to the rhythm
"What is that thing?" Seth asked.
"A limberjack," she replied.
"Where's his ax?"
"Not a lumberjack, a limberjack. A clog doll. A jigger. Dancing Dan. Shuffling Sam. I call him Mendigo. He keeps me company. Come inside and I'll let you give it a try."
"I better not," he said again. "I don't see how you could live out here and not be crazy."
"Sometimes good people grow weary of society." She sounded a little annoyed. "You happened upon me by accident? Out exploring?"
"Actually, I'm selling candy bars for my soccer team. It's a good cause."
Kendra could not believe her brother.
She stared at him.
"I have my best luck in the rich neighborhoods."
She kept staring.
"That was a joke. I'm kidding."
Her voice became stern. "You are an impudent young man."
"And you live with a tree stump."
Marla sighed. One day, that boy's sharp tongue will get him killed.
She gave him a measuring glare. "Very well, my arrogant young adventurer. Why not test your courage? Every explorer deserves a chance to prove his mettle." The old woman withdrew into the shack and crouched behind the stump again. She returned to the doorway holding a crude, narrow box made of splintered wood, wire, and long, jutting nails.
"What's that?"
"Place your hand inside the box to prove your valor and win a reward."
"I'd rather play with the creepy puppet."
"Just reach inside and touch the back of the box." She shook it, and it rattled a bit. The box was long enough that he would have to reach in to his elbow in order to touch the back.
"Are you a witch?"
"A man with a brave tongue should support his words with courageous actions."
"In other words, yes," said Seth.
This seems like something a witch would do."
"Stand by your loose words, young man, or you may not have a pleasant journey home."
Seth backed away, watching her closely. "I better get going. Have fun eating your rope."
She clucked her tongue. "Such insolence." Her voice remained soothing and calm, but now held a menacing undertone. "Why not step inside and have some tea?"
"Next time." Seth moved around the shack, not taking his eyes from the ragged woman in the doorway. She made no move to pursue him. Before he moved out of her sight, the woman raised an arthritic hand with the middle fingers crossed and the others bent awkwardly. Eyes half-shut, she appeared to be murmuring something. Then she was out of view.
"I thought the rope was supposed to prevent her from using magic," said Kendra.
"It prevents her from using all but the weakest of spells," Stan explained.
On the far side of the shack, Seth plunged through the tangled undergrowth back to the path, glancing over his should all the way. The woman was not chasing him. Just looking back at the ivy-covered shack made him shiver. The old hag looked so wretched and smelled so foul. There was no way he was sticking his hand in her weird box. After she had offered the challenge, all he could think about was learning in school how shark teeth angled inward so fish could swim in but not out. He imagined the homemade box was probably full of nails or broken glass set at cruel angles for a similar purpose.
Raxtus winced. Well, as much as a dragon can wince, anyways. "Ouch," he said.
Even though the woman was not following him, Seth felt unsafe. Compass in hand, he hurried along the path toward home. Without warning, something struck him on the ear, barely hard enough to sting. A pebble the size of a thimble dropped to the path at his feet.
Seth whirled. Somebody had thrown the little stone at him, but he saw nobody. Could the old woman be stealthily following him? She probably knew the woods really well.
"Dude, she's an old lady. If you were running away from her, there should be no way she would be able to chase you," said Newel.
"I know," replied Seth. "But I was panicking. I don't think straight when I panic."
Another small object bounced off the back of his neck. It was not as hard or heavy as a stone. Turning, he saw another acorn whistling toward him, and he ducked. The acorns and the pebble had come at him from opposite sides of the path. What was going on?
"The squirrels are taking over," Doren said, matter-of-factly.
From above came the sound of wood splitting, and a huge limb fell across across the path behind him, a few leaves and twigs swishing against him as it passed. If Seth had been standing two or three yards back along the path, a branch thicker than his leg would have clubbed him on the head.
One look at the heavy limb, and Seth took off down the path at a full sprint. He seemed to hear rustling sounds coming from the shrubbery on either side of the scant trail, but did not slow down to investigate.
Something caught a firm hold on his ankle, sending him tumbling to the ground. Sprawled on his belly, a cut on one hand, dirt in his mouth, he heard something rustling through the foliage behind him, and a strange sound that was either laughter or running water. A dry branch snapped like a gunshot. Not looking back for fear of what he might see, Seth scramble to his feet and dashed along the path.
Everybody sat still, enraptured by the scene unfolding in their mind's eyes
Whatever had tripped him had not been a root or a stone. It had felt like a strong cord stretched across the trail. A tripwire. He had noticed no such trap previously on the path. But there was no way the old woman could have done it, even if she had started running the moment he passed out of her view.
"Again, she is an old lady. She cannot run very well. Got that?" asked Doren.
"I don't need to explain myself again, do I?" replied Seth.
Seth raced past the place where the trail forked and sprinted back the way he had come. He scanned the trail ahead for wires or other traps. His breathing became labored, but he did not slow down. The air felt hotter and more humid than it had all day. Sweat began to dampen his forehead and drip down the sides of his face.
Seth remained alert for the little pyramid of rocks that would mark where he should leave the path. When he reached a gnarled little tree with black bark and thorny leaves, he halted. He remembered the tree.
"Sounds a lot like the tree that was by Kurisock's tar pit," Newel noted.
After hearing what happened again, plus Newel's comment, Seth realized how lucky he was to have survived that afternoon.
He had noticed it when he had intersected the path. Using the tree as a reference, he found the spot where he had built the pyramid of rocks, but the rocks were gone.
Leaves crunched behind him off to one side of the trail. Seth glanced at his compass to confirm that he was heading west and ran into the woods. He had walked this way at a leisurely pace, examining toadstools and unusual rocks as he went. Now he tore through the forest at full speed, undergrowth clawing at his legs, branches whipping against his face and chest.
Finally, panting, the energy of his panic wearing thin, he glimpsed the house up ahead through the trees. The sounds of pursuit had dwindled to nothing. As he stepped out into the yard under the sun, Seth wondered hoe much of what he had heard had actually been something chasing him, and how much had been invented by his flustered imagination.
Vanessa paused. "Can someone get me some water, please?"
"I'll get it." Marla ran inside, filled a glass with water from the tap, came back out, and handed the glass to Vanessa. Vanessa took a large sip of the water before setting down next to her.
The wall opposite the windows in the playroom held several rows of bookshelves. The door to the stairs was built into that wall. And one of the bulky, freestanding wardrobes was backed up against it.
Kendra held a blue book with golden letters. The title was Journal of Secrets. The book was held shut by three sturdy clasps, each with a keyhole. The remaining key Grandpa Sorenson had given her fit none of the keyholes, but the gold key she had found in the dollhouse armoire fit the bottom one. So one of the clasps was unlocked.
She had found the book while searching the bookshelves for a trigger to a secret passage. Using a stool, Kendra had reached even the higher shelves, but so far the search had been in vain. There was no sign of a secret door. When she noticed a locked book with an intriguing title, she had quit the search in order to test her keys.
With the bottom clasp unlocked, Kendra tried to pry up the corner of the book and get a peek. But the cover was solid and the binding firm. She needed to find the other keys.
"Or just cut one of the covers off," said Doren. Everybody turned to look at him.
"What?"
She heard someone stampeding up the stairs and knew it could be only one person. Hurriedly she shelved the book and pocketed the keys. She did not want her nosy brother interfering with her puzzle.
Seth charged through the door and slammed it behind him. He was flushed and breathing hard. Dirt smeared the knees of his jeans. His face was smudged with sweat and grime. "You should have come," he sighed, flopping onto his bed.
"You're getting the bedspread dirty."
"It was freaky," he said. "It was so cool."
"What happened?"
"I found this path in the woods and met this weird old lady who lived in a shack. I think she's a witch. A real one."
"Whatever."
He rolled over and looked at her. "I'm serious. You should have seen her. She was a mess."
"So are you."
"No, like all scabby and gross. She was biting an old rope. She tried to make me stick my hand in some box."
"Did you?"
"No way. I took off. But she chased me or something. She threw rocks at me and knocked down this big branch. It could have killed me!"
"You must be pretty bored."
"I'm not lying!"
"I'll ask Grandpa Sorenson if he has homeless people living in his woods," Kendra said.
"No! He'll know I broke the rules."
"Don't you think he would want to know a witch built a shack on his property?"
"She acted like she knew him. I went pretty far. Maybe I was off his property."
"I doubt it. I think he owns everything for a long ways."
Seth leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "You should come visit her with me. I could find my way back."
"Sometimes Seth, you make no sense at all," said Kendra.
"Are you nuts? You said she tried to kill you."
"We should spy on her. Find out what she's up to."
"If there really is a weird old lady living in the woods, you should tell Grandpa so he can call the police."
Seth sat up. "Okay. Never mind. I made it up. Feel better?"
Kendra narrowed her eyes.
"I found something else cool," Seth said. "Have you seen the tree house?"
"No."
"Want me to show you?"
"Is it in the yard?"
"That's Kendra," said Marla. "Always making sure to follow the rules."
"Mom!" scolded Kendra, blushing.
"Yes, on the edge."
"Okay."
Kendra followed Seth outside and across the lawn. Sure enough, in the corner of the yard opposite the barn, there was a light blue playhouse up in a thick tree. It was situated on the back side of the tree, making it hard to see from most of the yard. The paint was peeling a little, but the little house had shingles on the roof and curtains in the window. Boards had been nailed into the tree to form a ladder.
Seth went up first. The rungs led up to a trapdoor, which he pushed open. Kendra climbed up after him.
Inside, the tree house felt bigger than it looked from the ground. There was a little table with four chairs. The pieces to a jigsaw puzzle were spread out on the table. Only a couple had been fit together.
"See, not bad," Seth said. "I started that puzzle."
"It's beautiful. You must be gifted."
"Thanks, Ms. Sarcasm."
"No problem."
"I didn't work on it long."
"Did you even find the corners?"
"No."
"That's the first thing you do." She sat down and started looking for corner pieces. Seth took a seat and helped. "You never like puzzles," Kendra said.
"It's more fun doing them in a tree house."
"If you say so."
Seth found a corner piece and set it aside. "Think Grandpa would let me move in here?"
"You're a weirdo."
"I'd only need a sleeping bag," he said.
"You'd get freaked out once it was late."
"No way."
"The witch might come get you."
"That was rather underhanded," said Tanu.
"I thought he was making it up!" said Kendra.
Instead of responding, he started looking more intently for the other corner pieces. Kendra could tell the comment had gotten to him. She decided not to tease him any further. The fact that he seemed scared of the lady he had met in the woods legitimized his story a lot. Seth had never scared easily. This was the kid who had jumped off the roof under the misguided assumption that a garbage bag would work like a parachute. The kid who put the head of a live snake in his mouth on a dare.
"How come I never knew about this?" asked Marla, incredulously.
"Because I knew you would react like that," Seth replied.
They found the corners and finished most of the perimeter of the puzzle by the time they heard Lena calling them for dinner.
Looking towards the pond, Kendra noticed that the naiads had once again submerged under the surface. Kendra guessed they had done that at the first mention of Lena.
Vaness closed the book, and asked who would like to read next.
Bracken stood up. "I'll read," he said. The two switched places. "All right," he said. "Chapter Four..."
Please review, and if you like, favorite my story. If you have any questions for me or for the characters, go ahead and ask in a review.
Until next time!