Same with that dragonfly, Seth pointed out.

I wish I had a camera. I dare you to go get the mirror.

Seth shrugged. Sure.

He trotted over to the table, grabbed the mirror by the handle, dashed to the pool, and dove in. Some of the insects scattered instantly. The majority drifted in the direction Seth had gone but dispersed before reaching the pool.

Seth surfaced. Any bees after me?

Get the mirror out of the water. You'll ruin it!

Settle down, it's fine, he said, stroking over to the side.

Give it to me. She took the mirror from him and wiped it dry with her towel. It looked undamaged. Let's try an experiment.

Kendra placed the mirror face up on a lounge chair and backed away. Think they'll come back?

We'll see.

Kendra and Seth sat down at the table, not far from the lounge chair. After less than a minute, a hummingbird glided over to the mirror and hovered above it. Soon it was joined by a few butterflies. A bumblebee alighted on the face. Before long another swarm of small winged creatures crowded the mirror.

Go turn the mirror face down, Kendra said. I want to see whether they like the reflection or the mirror itself.

Seth crept toward the mirror. The little animals took no apparent notice of his approach. He reached forward slowly, flipped the mirror over, and then retreated to the table.

The butterflies and bees that had landed on the mirror took flight when it was overturned, but only a few of the winged creatures flew away. Most of the swarm lingered. A pair of butterflies and a dragonfly landed on the lounge chair at the edge of the mirror. Taking flight, they flipped the mirror over, nearly sliding it off the chair in the process.

With the reflective surface showing again, the swarm pressed close. Several of the creatures landed on the face.

Did you see that? Kendra asked.

That was weird, Seth said.

How could they be strong enough to lift it?

There were a few of them. Want me to flip it again?

No, I'm scared the mirror will fall off and break.

Okay. He draped his towel over his shoulder. I'm going to go change.

Would you take the mirror?

Fine, but I'm running. I don't want to get stung.

Seth moved toward the mirror slowly, snatched it, and ran off into the garden toward the house. Part of the swarm gave lazy pursuit before scattering.

Kendra wrapped the towel around her waist, picked up the sunblock Seth had left behind, and started toward the house.

When Kendra reached the attic playroom, Seth was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved camouflage shirt. He picked up the cereal box that served as his emergency survival kit and headed for the door.

Where are you going?

None of your business, unless you want to come.

How will I know whether I want to come if you don't tell me where you're going?

Seth gave her a measuring stare. Promise to keep it a secret?

Let me guess. Into the woods.

Want to come?

You'll get Lyme disease, Kendra warned.

Whatever. Ticks are everywhere. Same with poison ivy. If people let that stop them, nobody would ever go anywhere.

But Grandpa Sorenson doesn't want us in the woods, she protested.

Grandpa isn't going to be around all day. Nobody will know unless you blab.

Don't do this. Grandpa has been nice to us. We should obey him.

You're about as brave as a bucket of sand.

What's so brave about disobeying Grandpa?

So you're not coming?

Kendra hesitated. No.

Will you tell on me?

If they ask where you are.

I won't be long.

Seth walked out the door. She heard him tromp down the stairs.

Kendra crossed to the nightstand. The handheld mirror rested on it beside the ring with the three tiny keys. She had spent a long time the night before trying to find what the keys fit. The biggest key opened a jewelry box on the dresser that was full of costume jewelry-fake diamond necklaces, pearl earrings, emerald pendants, sapphire rings, and ruby bracelets. She had not yet discovered what the other two opened.

She picked up the keys. They were all small. The smallest was no longer than a thumbtack. Where could she find such a miniscule keyhole?

The night before, she had spent most of her time on drawers and toy chests. Some of the drawers had keyholes, but they were already unlocked, and the keys did not fit.

Same with the toy chests.

The Victorian dollhouse caught her attention. What better place to find tiny keyholes than inside a little house?

She unlatched the clasps and opened it, revealing two floors and several rooms full of miniature furniture. Five doll people lived in the house-a father, a mother, a son, a daughter, and a baby.

The detail was extraordinary. The beds had quilts, blankets, sheets, and pillows. The couches had removable cushions.

Chapter Three

The knobs in the bathtub really turned. Closets had clothes hanging inside.

The armoire in the dollhouse's master bedroom made Kendra suspicious. It had a disproportionately large keyhole in the center. Kendra inserted the tiniest key and turned it.

The doors of the armoire sprung open.

Inside was something wrapped in gold foil-opening it, she saw it was a piece of chocolate shaped like a rosebud.

Behind the chocolate she found a small golden key. She added it to the key ring. The golden key was larger than the key that opened the armoire, but smaller than the key that opened the jewelry box.

Kendra took a bite of the chocolate rosebud. It was soft and melted in her mouth. It was the richest, creamiest chocolate she had ever tasted. She finished it in three more bites, savoring each mouthful.

Kendra continued scouring the tiny house, investigating every piece of furniture, searching every closet, checking behind every miniature painting on the walls. Finding no more keyholes, she closed the dollhouse and fastened the clasps.

Scanning the room, Kendra tried to decide where to look next. One key left, maybe two if the golden key also opened something. She had been through most of the items in the toy chests, but she could always double-check.

She had searched through the drawers in the nightstands, dressers, and wardrobes thoroughly, as well as the knickknacks on the bookshelves. There could be keyholes in unlikely places, like under the clothes of a doll or behind a bedpost.

Kendra ended up beside the telescope. Improbable as it seemed, she checked it for keyholes. Nothing.

Maybe she could use the telescope to locate Seth.

Opening the window, she noticed Dale walking along the lawn at the outskirts of the woods. He was carrying something in both hands, but his back was to her, impeding a view of what he held. He stooped and set it down behind a low hedge, which continued to prevent her from seeing the object. Dale walked off at a brisk pace, glancing around as if to ensure nobody was spying, and soon passed out of view.

Curious, Kendra rushed downstairs and out the back door. Dale was nowhere in sight. She trotted across the lawn to the low hedge beneath the attic window. Grass continued for about six feet beyond the hedge before stopping abruptly at the perimeter of the forest. On the grass behind the hedge rested a large pie tin full of milk.

An iridescent hummingbird hung suspended over the pie tin, wings a faint blur. Several butterflies flitted around the hummingbird. Occasionally one would descend and splash in the milk. The hummingbird flew away, and a dragonfly approached. It was a smaller crowd than the mirror had attracted, but there was much more activity than Kendra would have expected around a small pool of milk.

She watched as a variety of tiny winged animals came and went, feeding from the pie tin. Did butterflies drink milk? Did dragonflies? Apparently so. It was not long before the level of milk in the pie tin had markedly fallen.

Kendra looked up at the attic. It had only two windows, both facing the same side of the house. She visualized the room behind those gabled windows and suddenly realized that the playroom consumed only half the space the attic should fill.

Abandoning the tin of milk, she walked around to the opposite side of the house. On the far side was a second pair of attic windows. She was right. There was another half to the attic. But she knew of no other stairway granting access to the uppermost story. Which meant there might be some sort of secret passage in the playroom!

Maybe the final key unlocked it!

Just as she decided to return to the attic and search for a hidden door, Kendra noticed Dale coming from the direction of the barn with another pie tin. She hurried toward him. When he saw her coming, he looked temporarily uncomfortable, then put on a big smile.

What are you doing? Kendra asked.

Just taking some milk to the house, he replied, changing direction a bit. He had been heading toward the woods.

Really? Why'd you leave that other milk behind the hedge?

Other milk? He could not have looked more guilty.

Yeah. The butterflies were drinking it.

Dale was no longer walking. He regarded Kendra shrewdly. Can you keep a secret?

Sure.

Dale looked around as if someone might be watching.

We have a few milking cows. They make plenty of milk, so I put out some of the excess for the insects. Keeps the garden lively.

Why's that a secret?

I'm not sure your grandfather would approve. Never asked permission. He might consider it wasteful.

Seems like a good idea to me. I noticed all the different kinds of butterflies in your garden. More than I've ever seen. Plus all the hummingbirds.

He nodded. I like it. Adds to the atmosphere.

So you weren't taking that milk to the house.

No, no. This milk hasn't been pasteurized. Full of bacteria.

You could catch all sorts of diseases. Not fit for people. Insects, on the other hand, they seem to like it best this way. You won't spoil my secret?

I'll keep quiet.

Good girl, he said with a conspiratorial wink.

Where are you putting that one?

Over there. He jerked his head toward the woods. I set a few on the border of the yard every day.

Does it spoil?

I don't leave it out long enough. Some days the insects consume all the milk before I collect the pans. Thirsty critters.

See you later, Dale.

You seen your brother hereabout?

I think he's in the house.

That so?

She shrugged. Maybe.

Kendra turned and started toward the house. She glanced back as she mounted the stairs to the rear porch.

Dale was placing the milk behind a small, round bush.

The Ivy Shack 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.

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.

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.

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.

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 see 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 listened as it pushed 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.

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. 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 path went northwest, the other due east.

Staying with his theme, Seth turned east.

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 large square of ivy hidden among the trees. The whole point of exploring the woods was to find strange things, so he left the path and walked toward the ivy square.