"Had it not, I doubt they would display any interest," Warren said. "In fairness, they have some excuse for their haughtiness. Centaurs tend to be brilliant thinkers, gifted artisans, and formidable warriors. Pride itself is their greatest flaw."
"Seth!" Grandma called from the other side of the tent. "Dale! Warren! Kendra! Come counsel with us."
"There you go," Warren said, sounding relieved himself.
"The wait is over."
Part of Seth wondered if Warren had wandered to the back of the tent in order to quietly verify whether it was actually as soundproof as purported. They walked around to the front of the tent, passing the towering dryad with the autumnal robes and an aged satyr with a white goatee and deep laugh lines. Kendra unzipped her tent and came outside. Dale jogged toward them from the direction of the dwarf encampment. Grandma and Grandpa waited at the entrance of the tent and welcomed them inside. Both Stan and Ruth looked tired and careworn.
The tent was so large that Seth half expected to find it furnished, but there were only a pair of rolled sleeping bags in the corner and some gear. They all sat on the floor, which was quite comfortable, thanks to the springy turf underneath. The sunlight filtering through the yellow and purple fabric gave the room an odd cast.
"I have a question," Kendra said. "If the evil brownies stole the register, can't they just change the rules and let dark creatures come in here?"
"Most of the boundaries and borders of Fablehaven are fixed by the treaty that established the preserve and are therefore unchangeable while the treaty stands," Grandma explained. "The register simply allowed us to regulate access to the preserve as a whole and to dictate which creatures could cross the barriers guarding our home. The magical barriers protecting this area are different from most of the boundaries at Fablehaven. Most boundaries are established to limit access by particular types of creature-there are certain sectors where fairies are allowed, and satyrs, and fog giants, and so forth. Some creatures are granted more area to roam than others, based on how potentially harmful they are to others. Since most of the boundaries are divided according to species, when the light creatures started turning dark, they retained access to the same areas."
"But the border around the pond and this field functions according to affiliation with light or darkness," Grandpa said. "Once a creature starts drawing more upon darkness than light, that creature can no longer enter here."
"How long will this place hold off the darkness?" Seth asked.
"We wish we knew," Grandma said. "Perhaps for a good while. Perhaps for another hour. We can be certain only that our backs are to the wall. We're almost out of options. If we fail to take effective action, the preserve will soon fall."
"I conferred with my most trustworthy contacts from among the creatures gathered here," Grandpa said, his demeanor becoming more official, "in an effort to gauge the level of support we could expect from the various races. I traded words with at least one delegate from most of them, excluding the brownies and the centaurs. As a whole, the creatures here feel sufficiently cornered and intimidated by this plague that I believe we can count on considerable assistance as needed."
"But we did not want any of them here while we discuss strategy," Grandma said. "We withheld certain key information. If they should become contaminated, most, if not all, would utterly betray us."
"Why do the creatures all change so completely?" Kendra asked. "Seth said that Coulter and Tanu kept helping us after they transformed."
"You ask a difficult question," Grandpa said. "The short answer is that as nonmagical, mortal beings, humans are affected differently by the plague. The rest requires speculation. For the most part, unapologetically, magical creatures are what they are. They tend to be less self-aware than humans, relying more on instinct. We humans are conflicted beings. Our beliefs don't always harmonize with our instincts, and our behavior doesn't always reflect our beliefs. We constantly struggle with right and wrong. We wage war between the person we are and the person we hope to become. We have a lot of practice wrestling with ourselves. As a result, compared to magical creatures, we humans are much more able to suppress our natural inclinations in order to deliberately choose our identities."
"I don't get it," Seth said. "Each human being has significant potential for light and darkness," Grandpa continued. "Over a lifetime, we get a lot of practice leaning toward one or the other. Having made different choices, a renowned hero could have been a wretched villain. My guess is that when Coulter and Tanu were transformed, their minds resisted the darkness in a way most magical creatures can't imagine."
"I still don't see how somebody nice like Newel could instantly become so evil," Seth said.
Grandpa held up a finger. "I don't view most magical creatures as good or evil. What they are largely governs how they act. In order to be good, you must recognize the difference between right and wrong and strive to choose the right. To be truly evil you must do the contrary. Being good or evil is a choice.
"Instead, the creatures of Fablehaven are light or dark. Some are inherently builders, some are nurturers, some are playful. Some are inherently destroyers, some are deceivers, some crave power. Some love light, some love darkness. But change their nature, and without much resistance, their identities follow. Like a fairy becoming an imp, or an imp regaining her fairyhood." Grandpa looked at Grandma. "Am I waxing too philosophical?"
"A little," she said.
"Questions that start with 'why' are the toughest to answer," Dale said. "You end up guessing more than knowing."
"I think I get what you mean," Kendra said. "A demon like Bahumat automatically hates and destroys because he sees no other option. He isn't questioning his actions or resisting a conscience. Someone like Muriel, who deliberately chose to serve darkness, is more evil."
"So Newel acted differently because he isn't Newel anymore," Seth concluded. "The plague totally overwhelmed him. He's something else."
"That's the basic idea," Grandpa said.
Warren sighed. "If a starving bear ate my family, even though he may have had no wicked intentions, even though he was just being a bear, his nature has made him a menace, and I'm going to shoot him." He sounded exasperated by the conversation.
"The bear would have to be stopped," Grandma agreed. "Stan is just making the distinction that you wouldn't blame the bear the same way you would blame a responsible person."
"I get the distinction," Warren said. "I have a different opinion about magical creatures. I can think of many creatures who have chosen to carry out good or evil actions, regardless of their nature. I hold dark creatures more accountable for what they are and what they do than Stan does."
"As is your right," Grandpa said. "The issue is largely academic, although some who share your view would use it as an excuse to eradicate all dark creatures, a notion I find detestable. I'll agree that creatures of light can be deadly consider the naiads, who drown the innocent for sport. The Fairy Queen herself strikes down those who tread near her shrine uninvited. And creatures of darkness can be helpful-look at Graulas, supplying key information, or the goblins who reliably patrol our dungeon."
"This fascinating debate aside," Grandma said testily, "the matter at hand is to halt the plague at any cost. We're on the brink of destruction."
Everyone nodded.
Straightening his shirt, looking somewhat chagrined, Grandpa shifted gears. "Lena didn't know much more about Kurisock, except to confirm that he was involved with the fiend who now controls the old manor. But she was able to tell us much about the second artifact." He related the details about the location of the safe, the time it would appear, and the combination.
"Any guess which artifact it is?" Warren asked.
"She didn't say," Kendra answered.
"The artifact could wield power over space or time,"
Grandma said. "It could enhance vision. Or it could bestow immortality. Those are supposedly the powers of the four that remain unclaimed."
"Do you think the artifact might help us reverse the plague?" Seth asked.
"We can hope," Grandpa said. "For now, recovering it is the most pressing task. On top of claiming the artifact, risking an excursion to the manor would also serve as useful reconnaissance. Anything we can discover about Kurisock and those associated with him could help us unravel the mystery of the plague."
Dale cleared his throat. "Not to gainsay you, Stan, but considering what we know about the old manor, the odds may not be good that any of us will return."
"We know that a dreaded presence haunts the property there," Grandpa admitted. "But those rumors were started by Patton, who had good reason to scare people away."
"Because he hid the artifact there," Kendra said.
"Furthermore," Grandpa continued, "we know of somebody who unwittingly entered the manor and survived to tell the tale."
All eyes turned to Seth. "I guess I did. I hadn't drunk milk yet that day. I had just escaped from Olloch, so I couldn't see what anything actually was. In fact, maybe that's the only reason I got out of there at all."
"I've wondered the same thing," Grandma said.
"Roaming the preserve without consuming milk has advantages and drawbacks," Grandpa said. "There is evidence that if you are unable to perceive magical creatures, they must exert greater effort in order to perceive you. In addition, many of the dark creatures feed on fear. If you fail to recognize them for what they are, the fear is diminished, and their motivation to inflict harm is reduced."
"But just because you can't see magical creatures doesn't mean they aren't there," Dale interjected. "Wandering the preserve without milk is a fine way to stroll blissfully into a death trap."
"Which is the downside," Grandpa affirmed.
Grandma leaned forward eagerly. "But if we know where we're going, and have an idea what awaits us, and we stick to the path on the way there and back, not drinking the milk may give us the advantage we need to sneak past the apparition and reach the safe. Seth, how long were you in the manor before the whirlwind pursued you?"
"Several minutes," Seth said. "Enough time to climb to the top floor, step out onto the roof, get my bearings, come back into the room, and start down the hall."
"Forgoing the milk sounds like our best option," Warren said. "You say the safe will appear tomorrow?"
"At noon," Grandpa said. "And then not for another week. We can't afford to wait."
"What about daylight saving time?" Grandma asked. "This time of year, we recognize noon standard time as one o'clock."
"With an apparition guarding the safe, timing will be essential," Grandpa said. "When did daylight saving time go into effect?"
"Around World War I," Grandma said. "Probably after the safe was created."
"Let's go by standard time, then, and hope the safe isn't as smart as my cell phone, automatically updating itself," Grandpa said. "We want to reach that room at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
"Dale and I can tackle this," Warren offered.
"I should come," Seth said. "If I'm there, Coulter and Tanu can scout for us."
"They can't be out under the sun," Grandpa reminded him. "And we have to do this around midday. In fact, in the interest of caution, since they can't help, don't mention any of this to them." "Maybe tomorrow will be cloudy," Seth tried. "Besides, I'm the only one who has been inside the manor before. I know where Lena was talking about. And what if the apparition uses magical fear? I may be the only one of us not paralyzed!"
"We'll consider your courageous offer," Grandpa said.
"I don't see how we'll succeed without incurring some losses," Grandma said, her brow scrunched. "Too much is riding on this for us to fail. We need multiple people going after the safe from multiple directions. Some of us will fall, but others are bound to get through."
"I agree," Grandpa said. "Dale, Warren, Ruth, and I should combine in a united offensive."
"And me," Seth insisted.
"I could come too," Kendra offered.
"Your eyes can't be closed to magical creatures," Grandpa reminded Kendra. "Your ability to see and be seen might inadvertently give us away."
"It might be handy to have somebody along who can tell what is actually happening," Kendra maintained.
"We'll bring walrus butter," Warren said. "We'll unveil our eyes if the need arises."
"So the five of us," Seth said as if the matter were decided. "Plus Hugo."
"Hugo, yes," Grandpa said. "Five, I'm not so sure."
"I'll even hang back if you want," Seth proposed. "I'll only go inside if it makes sense. Otherwise I'll retreat. Think about it. If this fails, we're all doomed anyhow. I might as well be there to help it succeed." "He makes a good case," Warren conceded. "And we'll be glad to have him if fear overcomes us. We know such fear exists."
"All right," Grandpa said. "You can join us, Seth. But not Kendra. Nothing personal, dear. Your ability to see really could spoil our one possible advantage."
"Do we want help from any of the other creatures?" Seth asked.