Aided by mighty allies and potent magic, the Europeans successfully subdued and imprisoned the demon.

Some years later, they founded Fablehaven on the land they wrested from Bahumat.

Years passed. In the early 1800s, a community comprised chiefly of extended family had developed on this preserve. They built a number of dwellings around the original mansion. This was before the current house and barn were constructed. The old mansion still stands deep within this property, though most of the flimsier structures around it have been swallowed by time and the elements.

Although their homes are gone, they did construct one lasting structure-a church.

In 1826, thanks to human frailty and foolishness, Bahumat nearly escaped. It could have been a serious disaster, because none who remained on the preserve possessed the resources or knowledge to contend successfully with an entity of his power. Although the jailbreak was prevented, the experience proved too unnerving for most who lived here, and the majority departed.

The prison that held the demon had been damaged.

With outside help, Bahumat was moved to a new holding area in the basement of the church. Meetings there ceased a few months after that, and in the intervening years it has become known as the Forgotten Chapel.

So Bahumat is still there? Kendra said.

Believe me, we would know if Bahumat had been loosed. I doubt anyone in the world has the capacity to recapture that fiend if he were to get free. His kind have been absent for too long, imprisoned or destroyed. Those who knew how to defeat such a foe have passed on, with none to replace them. Which brings me to my greatest concern: that Muriel might try to release Bahumat.

Would she do something that stupid? Seth cried.

Muriel is a student of evil. She was originally imprisoned for tampering with such things. If she reaches the Forgotten Chapel first, which she may have already done, assuming her imps have apprised her of the situation, we will have to neutralize her in order to save your grandfather.

If we allow her enough time to release Bahumat, we will all need saving. That is why I must try to stop her immediately.

Not just you, Seth said.

Hugo and I will handle this. You kids have done enough.

What? Seth exclaimed. No way!

Retrieving your grandfather should not be too difficult.

But if the worst-case scenario transpires, and I fail, Fablehaven could fall. Bahumat never agreed to the treaty that protects this sanctuary. None of his kind would. He has a claim to this land and is a being of sufficient power to overthrow the treaty, plunging the preserve into endless darkness. Every day would become like those fearful festival nights, and this property would be forever uninhabitable for all but the denizens of shadow. Any mortal trapped here would fall prey to horrors too terrible to contemplate.

Could that really happen? Kendra asked quietly.

It would not be the first time, Grandma said, Preserves have fallen ever since they were instituted. The causes are myriad, usually stemming from human folly.

Some have been reclaimed. Others fell beyond redemption.

Currently there are at least thirty fallen preserves in the world. Perhaps most unnerving are the recent whispers about the Society of the Evening Star.

Maddox told us about them, Seth said.

Grandpa got a letter warning him to be on the lookout, Kendra added.

Traditionally, the fall of a preserve was an uncommon occurrence. Maybe one or two a century. About ten years ago, rumors began to circulate that the Society of the Evening Star was working mischief again. Around the same time, preserves began falling at an alarming rate. Four have fallen over the past five years.

Why would anybody do that? Kendra asked.

Many have sought the answer to that question, Grandma said. To gain riches? Power? We who safeguard the preserves are essentially conservationists. We don't want to see the magnificent magical creatures of the world go extinct. We try not to discriminate against creatures of shadow-we want them to survive as well. But we do compartmentalize them when necessary. Members of the Society of the Evening Star mask their true intentions with rhetoric, alleging that we wrongfully imprison creatures of darkness.

Do you? Seth asked.

The most violent and malevolent demons are imprisoned, yes, but that is for the safety of the world. In pursuit of endless carnage and unlawful dominion, they clashed anciently with good humans and creatures of light, and are paying a heavy price for losing. Many other sinister entities were admitted to preserves only on condition that they would agree to certain limitations-agreements they entered voluntarily. A common restriction is that they are not permitted to leave the preserve, so the Society considers many of these creatures also incarcerated. They argue that the covenants of the preserves create artificial rules that upset the natural order of things. They consider the majority of humanity expendable. Their premise is that chaos and bloodshed are preferable to just regulations. We disagree.

Do you think the Evening Star people are involved in kidnapping Grandpa? Kendra asked.

Grandma shrugged. Possibly. I hope not. If so, it was done with great subtlety. There are powerful limits to how any outsider can intrude on a preserve. And our preserve is more secret than most.

Grandma opened a drawer and pulled out a rolled parchment. Unrolling it, she revealed a map of the world.

Large dots and X's were located on diverse portions of the map, aside from the labeling of major cities.

The X's mark fallen preserves, Grandma said. The dots mark active ones.

Fablehaven isn't marked, Kendra noticed.

Sharp eyes, Grandma said. There are thirty-seven active preserves noted on the map. And five unmarked preserves, of which Fablehaven is one. Even among those most trusted in our community, very few people know about the unmarked preserves. None know of them all.

Why? Seth asked.

Special artifacts of great power are hidden on those five preserves.

What artifacts? Seth asked, excited.

I cannot say. I don't know most of the details myself.

The artifact here at Fablehaven is not in our possession. It is guarded at an undisclosed location on the property.

Evildoers, particularly the Society of the Evening Star, would like nothing more than to collect the artifacts from the hidden preserves.

So there are many reasons Fablehaven must be protected, Kendra said.

Grandma nodded. Your grandfather and I are prepared to give our lives if necessary.

Maybe none of us should go after Grandpa, Kendra said. Can't we get help?

There are some who would come to our aid if summoned, but I need to stop Muriel and find your grandfather today. Nobody could reach us that quickly. Fablehaven is protected by secrecy. At times this becomes a hindrance. I do not know what spells bind Bahumat, but I am certain that, given sufficient time, Muriel will find a way to unravel them. I must act now.

Grandma slid off the stool, walked down an aisle, opened a trunk, and withdrew an ornate box embossed with vines and flowers. From the box she removed a small crossbow not much larger than a pistol. She also took out a small arrow with black fletching, an ivory shaft, and a silver head.

Cool, Seth cried. I want one!

This dart will slay any being that was ever mortal, including the enchanted or undead, if I can lodge it in a lethal place.

Where is lethal? Kendra asked.

The heart and the brain are surest. Witches can be tricky. This is the only talisman I am certain will slay Muriel.

You're going to kill her? Kendra whispered.

Only as a last resort. First I will try to have Hugo capture her. But the stakes are too high for us to sally forth without a failsafe. If the golem should unforeseeably disappoint me, I lack the skills to subdue Muriel myself. Believe me, the last thing I want is her blood on my hands. Killing a mortal is not quite as grievous a crime as killing a mystical being, but it would still dissolve most of the protection afforded me by the treaty. I would probably have to banish myself from the preserve.

But she's trying to destroy the whole preserve! Seth complained.

Not by directly killing anyone, Grandma said. The chapel is neutral ground. If I go there and kill her, even if I can justify the act, the protection of the treaty will never again be mine.

I heard Dale shooting guns and stuff the night the creatures came through our window, Kendra said.

Creatures were invading our territory, Grandma explained. Regardless of the reason, by coming into this house, they surrender all their protections. Under those circumstances, Dale could slay them with no fear of retribution, meaning his status under the treaty would remain secure. This same principle could work against you if you were to venture into certain forbidden areas of Fablehaven.

If you were thus stripped of all protection, it would be open hunting season on Kendra and Seth. Which is precisely why those areas are prohibited.

I don't get who would punish you for killing Muriel, Seth said.

The mystical barriers that protect me would be lifted, and the punishment would naturally follow. You see, as mortals, we can choose to break the rules. The mystical creatures that seek asylum here are not afforded that luxury.

Many would break the rules if they could, but they are bound. As long as I obey the rules, I am safe. But if I lose the protections afforded by the treaty, the consequences of my vulnerability would inevitably follow.

So does that mean Grandpa is alive for sure? Kendra asked in a small voice. They can't kill him or anything.

Stan has kept the rules pertaining to bloodshed, and so, even on their night of revelry, the dark creatures of this preserve would not be able to kill him. Nor would they be able to force him to go to a place that would enable them to kill him. Imprisoned, tortured, driven insane, turned to lead-maybe. But he has to be alive. And I have to go after him.

And I have to come with you, Seth said. You need backup.

Hugo is my backup.

Seth scrunched his face, resisting tears. I'm not going to lose you guys, especially when it's my fault.

Grandma Sorenson embraced Seth. Sweetheart, I appreciate your courage, but I'm not about to risk losing a grandchild.

Won't we be in just as much danger here as we would be if we were with you? Kendra said. If the demon gets loose, we'll all be fried.

I mean to send you away, off the preserve, Grandma said.

Kendra folded her arms. So we can wait outside the gate until our parents get back, tell them you were killed by a demon, and insist that we can't go to the house because it's really a magical preserve that has fallen into darkness?

Your parents do not know the true nature of this place, Grandma said. Nor would they believe without seeing.

Exactly! Kendra said. If you fail, the first thing Dad will do is go straight to your house and investigate.

Nothing we could say would keep him away. And he'll probably call the cops, and the whole world will find out about this place.

They wouldn't see anything, Grandma said. But many would die inexplicably. And actually, they could see the cow, even without the milk, because Viola remains a mortal being.

We came in handy with the troll, Seth said. And no matter what you do or say, I'll follow you anyways.

Grandma tossed up her hands. Sincerely, children, I think all will be fine. I know I described a dire scenario, but things like this happen on preserves from time to time, and we normally get them resolved. I don't see why this would be any different. Hugo will mend the problem without serious incident, and if it comes to it, I am a crack shot with the crossbow. If you will just wait outside the gates, I'll come for you before it gets too late.

But I want to see Hugo pound Muriel, Seth insisted.

If we're supposed to possibly inherit this place someday, you won't always be able to protect us from danger, Kendra said. Wouldn't it be a good experience for us to watch you and Hugo handle the situation? Maybe we can even help?

Field trip! Seth cried.

Grandma eyed them lovingly. You kids are growing up so fast, she sighed.

The Forgotten Chapel As the sun hesitated above the horizon, Kendra stared out the side of the wagon, watching the trees streak past. She remembered staring at trees out the window of the SUV on the way to the preserve with her parents. This ride was much noisier, bumpier, and windier. And the destination was much more intimidating.

Hugo pulled the oversized rickshaw. Kendra doubted that a team of horses could have matched the tireless speed of his loping strides.

They reached an open area, and Kendra saw the tall hedge that surrounded the pond with the gazebo boardwalk.

Strange to think that Lena had once lived there as a naiad.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Before they had boarded the wagon, Grandma had commanded Hugo to obey any instructions from Kendra and Seth. She told Kendra and Seth that if things went wrong, they should make a hasty retreat with Hugo. She also cautioned them to be careful what they told Hugo to do. Since he had no will of his own, the punishments for his actions would fall upon the heads of those issuing the orders.

Grandma had changed out of her bathrobe. She was now dressed in faded jeans, work boots, and a green top  -  -  clothing scavenged from the attic. Seth had taken great satisfaction in her choice of a green shirt.

Seth clutched a leather pouch. Grandma had explained it was full of special dust that would keep undesirable creatures away from them. She told Seth he could use it in the same way he had used the salt in the bedroom. She also warned him to use it only as a last resort. Any magic they used would only lead to less tolerable retribution if they failed. She had a pouch of the dust as well.

Kendra was empty-handed. Since she had not yet used magic, Grandma said it would be a mistake for her to start now. Apparently the protections of the treaty were quite strong for those who totally abstained from magic and mischief.

The wagon jolted over a particularly rough spot. Seth caught hold of the side to avoid falling. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. We're hauling!

Kendra wished she could be so obliviously calm about the whole thing. She was getting a sick feeling in her stomach. It reminded her of the first time she had to sing a solo in a school play. Fourth grade. She had always done fine in the practices, but when she peeked out past the curtains at the audience, a queasy feeling began brooding in her belly, until she became certain that she would throw up. At her cue, she walked out onto the bright stage, peering into the dim crowd, unable to find her parents in the throng. Her intro was playing, the moment arrived, and, as she started singing, the fear dissipated and the nausea vanished.