Our golem, Hugo. Come see.

Dale left the cart track and started across the field toward the toiling goliath. What's a golem? Seth asked, trailing after him.

Watch. Dale raised his voice. Hugo, halt!

The scythes stopped cutting in mid-stroke.

Hugo, come!

The herculean mower turned and jogged toward them with long, loping strides. Seth could feel the ground vibrate as Hugo approached. Still clutching the scythes, the massive golem came to a halt in front of Dale, looming over him.

He's made of dirt? Seth asked.

Soil, clay, and stone, Dale said. Granted the semblance of life by a powerful enchanter. Hugo was donated to the preserve a couple hundred years ago.

How tall is he?

Over nine feet when he stands up straight. Mostly he slouches closer to eight.

Seth gawked at the behemoth. In form he looked more apelike than human. Aside from his impressive height, Hugo was broad, with thick limbs and disproportionately large hands and feet. Tufts of grass and the occasional dandelion sprouted from his earthen body. He had an oblong head with a square jaw. Crude features resembled nose, mouth, and ears. The eyes were a pair of vacant hollows beneath a jutting brow.

Can he talk?

No. He tries to sing. Hugo, sing us a song!

The wide mouth began to open and close, and out rumbled a series of gravelly roars, some long, some short, none of them bearing much resemblance to music. Hugo cocked his head back and forth, as if swaying to the melody. Seth tried to stifle his laughter.

Hugo, stop singing.

The golem fell silent.

He isn't very good, Seth said.

About as musical as a landslide.

Does it embarrass him?

He doesn't think like we do. Doesn't get happy or sad or angry or bored. He's like a robot. Hugo just obeys commands.

Can I tell him to do stuff?

If I order him to obey you, Dale said. Otherwise he just listens to me, Lena, and your grandparents.

What else can he do?

He understands a lot. He performs all sorts of manual labor. It would take quite a team to match all the work he does around here. Hugo never sleeps. If you leave him with a list of chores, he'll labor through the night.

I want to tell him to do something.

Hugo, put down the scythes, said Dale.

The golem set the scythes on the ground.

Hugo, this is Seth. Hugo will obey Seth's next command.

Now? asked Seth.

Say his name first, so he knows you're addressing him.

Hugo, do a cartwheel.

Hugo held out his palms and shrugged.

He doesn't know what you mean, Dale said. Can you do a cartwheel?

Yeah.

Hugo, Seth is going to show you a cartwheel.

Seth put up his hands, lunged sideways, and did a cartwheel with sloppy form. Hugo, Dale said, obey Seth's next command.

Hugo, do a cartwheel.

The golem raised his arms, lurched to one side, and completed an awkward cartwheel. The ground trembled.

Pretty good for a first try, Seth said.

He duplicated yours. Hugo, when you do a cartwheel, keep your body straighter and aligned on a single plane, like a wheel turning. Hugo, do a cartwheel!

This time Hugo executed a nearly perfect cartwheel.

His hands left prints in the field. He learns fast, Seth exclaimed.

Anything physical, leastways. Dale put his hands on his hips. I'm sick of walking. What do you say we let Hugo take us to our next stop?

Really?

If you'd rather walk we can always- No way!

Kendra used a hacksaw to separate another pumpkin from the vine. Further down the long trough of soil, Lena was cutting a large red one. Nearly half the greenhouse was devoted to pumpkins, big and small, white, yellow, orange, red, and green.

They had arrived at the greenhouse by a faint trail through the woods. Aside from the pumpkins and plants, the glass structure contained a generator to power the lights and the climate control.

We really have to cut three hundred? Kendra asked.

Just be glad you don't have to load them, Lena said.

Who does?

It's a surprise.

Are jack-o-lanterns really such a big deal?

Do they work? Quite well. Especially if we can convince fairies to fill them.

With magic?

To dwell in them for the night, explained Lena.

Fairy lanterns have long been among the surest protections from creatures with dubious intentions.

But I thought the house was already safe. Kendra began sawing the stem of a tall orange pumpkin.

Redundancies in security are wise on festival nights.

Particularly on a Midsummer Eve after all the recent commotion.

How will we ever carve all of them before tonight?

Leave that to Dale. He could carve them all himself with time to spare. Not always the most artful renderings, but the man can mass produce. You carve only for fun; he knows how to carve for need.

I've never liked pulling out the guts, said Kendra.

Really? Lena said. I love the slimy texture, getting greasy up to my elbows. Like playing in the mud. We'll have delicious pies afterwards.

Is this white one too small?

Maybe save it for autumn.

Do you think the fairies will come?

Hard to say, Lena admitted. Some, for sure. Normally we have no trouble filling as many lanterns as we care to carve, but tonight might be an exception.

What if they don't show up? Kendra asked.

We'll be fine. Artificial lighting works, just not as well as fairies. With the fairy lanterns, the commotion stays farther from the house. In addition, Stan will be putting out tribal masks, herbs, and other safeguards.

Is the night really so awful?

You'll hear plenty of disturbing sounds.

Maybe we should have skipped the milk this morning.

Lena shook her head, not lifting her eyes from her work. Some of the most insidious tricks employed tonight will involve artifice and illusion. Without the milk you could be even more susceptible. It would only broaden their ability to mask their true appearance.

Kendra severed another pumpkin. Either way, I won't be looking.

I wish we could transplant some of your common sense to your brother.

After all that's happened, I'm sure he'll behave tonight.

The door to the greenhouse opened, and Dale poked his head in. Kendra, come here, I want you to meet somebody.

Kendra walked to the door with Lena behind her. In the doorway, Kendra paused and let out a small shriek. A bulky creature with a simian build was marching toward the greenhouse pulling a rickshaw-type contraption the size of a wagon. What is it?

He's Hugo, Seth crowed from inside the handcart.

He's a robot made of dirt! He jumped out of the cart and ran over to Kendra.

I ran ahead so you could see him approach, Dale said.

Hugo can run really fast when you tell him to, Seth gushed. Dale let me give him orders and he obeyed everything I said. See? He's waiting for instructions.

Hugo stood motionless beside the greenhouse, still holding the rickshaw. Had she not just seen Hugo moving, Kendra would have assumed he was a crude statue. Seth shouldered past Kendra into the greenhouse.

What is he? Kendra asked Lena.

A golem, she replied. Animated matter granted rudimentary intelligence. He does most of the heavy labor around here.

He's loading the pumpkins.

And rolling them to the house in his cart.

Seth exited the greenhouse toting a fairly large pumpkin.

Can I show her a command? he asked.

Sure, Dale said. Hugo, obey the next command from Seth.

Holding the pumpkin at his waist with both hands, leaning back a bit to stay balanced, Seth approached the golem. Hugo, take this pumpkin and throw it as far as you can into the woods.

The inert golem sprang to life. Grasping the pumpkin in one massive hand, he twisted and then fiercely uncoiled, hurling the pumpkin into the sky like a discus. Dale whistled softly as the pumpkin shrank into the distance, finally dropping out of sight, an orange speck vanishing behind far-off treetops.

Did you see that? Seth cried. He's better than a water balloon launcher!

Regular catapult, Dale murmured.

Very impressive, Lena agreed dryly. Forgive me if I hope to put a few of our pumpkins to more practical use.

You boys come help us cut the rest of our harvest so we can get them loaded.

Can't Hugo do a few more tricks? Seth begged. He knows cartwheels.

There will be time for nonsense later, Lena assured him. We need to finish our preparations for this evening.

Midsummer Eve Grandpa prodded the logs in the fireplace with a poker.

A shower of sparks swirled up the chimney as one log split open, revealing an interior of glowing embers. Dale poured himself a cup of steaming coffee, adding three spoonfuls of sugar. Lena peered out the window through the blinds.

The sun will reach the horizon in moments, she announced.

Kendra sat beside Seth on the sofa, watching Grandpa stoke the fire. The preparations were all in place. The entrances to the house were crowded with jack-O-lanterns.

Lena had been right-Dale had carved more than two hundred of them. Not quite thirty fairies had reported for duty, many fewer than Grandpa had expected, even given the recently strained relations.

Eight of the fairy lanterns were placed on the roof outside the attic, four at each window. Glow sticks illuminated most of the pumpkins, two in each. Grandpa Sorenson apparently ordered them in bulk.

Will it start right when the sun goes down? Seth asked.

Things won't really get going until twilight fades, Grandpa said, setting the poker beside the other fire irons.

But the hour has come for you children to retire to your room.

I want to stay up with you, Seth said.

The attic bedroom is the safest place in the house, Grandpa said.

Why don't we all stay in the attic? Kendra asked.

Grandpa shook his head. The spells that make the attic impenetrable function only if it is occupied by children.

Without children, or with adults in the room, the barriers become ineffectual.

Isn't the whole house supposed to be safe? Kendra asked.

I believe so, but on an enchanted preserve, nothing is ever certain. I am concerned by the scant number of fairies who reported this afternoon. I worry this could be a particularly uproarious Midsummer Eve. Perhaps the worst since I've lived here.

A long, mournful howl underscored his statement. The disturbing call was answered by a stronger howl, closer, that ended with a cackle. Chills tingled behind Kendra's shoulders.

The sun is gone, Lena reported from the window. She squinted, then put a hand to her mouth. Closing the slat, she stepped away from the blinds. They're already entering the yard.

Kendra leaned forward. Lena really looked upset. She had paled visibly. Her dark eyes were unsettled.

Grandpa scowled. Real trouble?

She nodded.

Grandpa clapped his hands together. Up to the attic.

The tension in the room prevented Kendra from uttering any protest. Apparently Seth sensed the same urgency.

Grandpa Sorenson followed them up the stairs, down the hall, and up into their bedroom.

Get under your covers, Grandpa said.

What's around the beds? Seth asked, examining the floor.

Circles of special salt, Grandpa said. An extra protection.

Kendra stepped carefully over the salt, pulled back the covers, and climbed into bed. The sheets felt cool.

Grandpa handed her a pair of small, spongy cylinders.

Earplugs, he said, passing a pair to Seth as well. I suggest you wear them. They should help mute the tumult so you can sleep.

Just cram them in our ears? Seth said, eyeing one suspiciously.

That's the idea, Grandpa said.

An eruption of high-pitched laughter blared up from the yard. Kendra and Seth exchanged a concerned glance.

Grandpa took a seat at the edge of Kendra's bed.

I need you kids to be brave and responsible for me tonight, he said.

They nodded silently.

You should know, he went on, I didn't let you come here merely as a favor to your parents. Your grandmother and I are getting on in years. The day will come when somebody else will need to care for this preserve. We need to find heirs. Dale is a good man, but he has no interest in running things here. You kids have impressed me so far.

You are bright, adventurous, and courageous.

There are some unpleasant aspects to living here.

Festival nights are a good example. Perhaps you wonder why we don't just all go spend the night in a hotel. If we did, we would return to find the house in ruins. Our presence is essential to the magic that protects these walls. If you are ever going to be involved with the work on this preserve, you will need to learn to cope with certain unpleasant realities. Look at tonight as a test. If the chaotic clamor outside is too much for you, then you do not belong here. There is no shame in this. People who belong here are rare.

We'll be fine, Seth said.

I believe you will. Listen carefully to my final instructions.

Once I leave the room, no matter what you hear, no matter what happens, do not leave your beds. We will not come to check on you until morning. You may think you hear me, or Dale, or Lena, asking to come in. Be forewarned.

It will not be us.

This room is invulnerable unless you open a window or the door. Remain in your beds and that will not happen.

Chapter Thirteen

With the fairy lanterns at your window, odds are that nothing will come near this part of the house. Try to ignore the tumult of the night, and we'll all share a special breakfast in the morning. Any questions?

I'm scared, Kendra said. Don't go.

You'll be safer without me. We'll be keeping watch downstairs all night. Everything will be fine. Just go to sleep.

It's okay, Grandpa, Seth said. I'll keep an eye on her.

Keep the other on yourself, Grandpa said sternly.

You mind me tonight. This is no game.

I will.

Outside the wind began to whistle through the trees.

The day had been calm, but now a groaning gust shook the house. Overhead the shingles rattled and the timbers creaked.