Fablehaven I (22 page)

goblin rushed to meet him. An instant before the outstretched

hand of the demon reached him, Seth flung a

handful of salt. Releasing Goldilocks, the demon reeled

back, scorched by a blinding blaze.

The chicken made straight for the bed, and Seth tossed

his other handful of salt in a wide arc to cover their retreat,

scalding the flying centipede in the process. The bulky

creature with the underbite tried to beat Seth to the bed,

arriving too late and receiving a violent shock as it collided

with the invisible salt barrier. Back on the bed, Seth clung

to Goldilocks, arms quivering convulsively.

The maroon demon growled. His face and chest were

charred from the salt. Tendrils of smoke curled up from the

burns. Turning, the demon pulled a book from the shelf

and tore it in half.

The door flew open, and Dale leveled a shotgun at the

monster with the underbite. You kids stay put no matter

what! he called. All three monsters converged on the

doorway. Dale retreated down the stairs, gun silent. The

winged centipede spiraled out the door above the other

scrambling creatures.

They heard a shotgun blast from down in the hall.

Shut the door and stay put! Dale hollered.

Kendra ran and slammed the door, then sprinted back

to her bed. Seth held Goldilocks, tears streaming down his

cheeks. I didn’t mean for this to happen, he whimpered.

It’ll be okay.

From downstairs came repeated gunshots. Growls,

roars, shrieks, glass shattering, wood splintering. Outside,

the cacophonous uproar resumed louder than ever. Pagan

drums, ethereal choirs, tribal chanting, wailing lamentations,

guttural snarls, unnatural howls, and piercing screams

united in relentless disharmony.

Kendra, Seth, and Goldilocks sat on the bed awaiting

dawn. Kendra had to constantly fight images of the woman

with the swirling black garments. She could not get the

apparition out of her mind. When she had looked into

those soulless eyes, even though the lady was outside,

Kendra had felt certain there would be no escape.

Late in the night, the furor finally began to relent,

replaced by more unnerving sounds. Babies began to cry

beyond the window again, calling for mama. When that

failed to elicit a response, the voices of young children

pleaded for help.

Kendra, please hurry, they’re coming!

Seth, Seth, open up, help us! Seth, don’t leave us out

here!

After the cries went ignored for a while, snarls and

screams would simulate the demise of the young supplicants.

Then a new batch of solicitors began begging for

admittance.

Perhaps most disconcerting was when Grandpa was

inviting them down to breakfast. We made it, kids, the

sun is rising! Come on, Lena cooked hotcakes.

How do we know you’re our Grandpa? Kendra asked,

more than a little suspicious.

Because I love you. Hurry, the food’s getting cold.

I don’t think the sun is up yet, Seth replied.

It’s just a little cloudy this morning.

Go away, Kendra said.

Just let me in; I want to kiss you good morning.

Our Grandpa never kisses us, you sicko, Seth yelled.

Get out of our house!

The exchange was followed by vicious banging on the

door for a solid five minutes. The hinges shook, but the

door held.

The night wore on. Kendra leaned against the headboard

as Seth dozed at her side. Despite the noise, her eyelids

began to feel heavy.

Suddenly she jerked awake. Gray light was seeping

through the curtains. Goldilocks wandered the floor, pecking

at kernels from her spilled bucket of feed.

When the curtains were masking unmistakable sunlight,

Kendra nudged Seth. He looked around, blinking,

then crept to the window and peeked out.

The sun is officially up, he announced. We made it.

I’m scared to go downstairs, whispered Kendra.

Everybody’s fine, Seth said nonchalantly.

Then why haven’t they come to get us?

Seth had no response. Kendra had gone easy on him

during the night. The consequences for opening the window

were brutal enough without placing blame and starting

arguments. And Seth had really acted remorseful. But

now he was reverting to his idiot self.

Kendra glared at him. You realize you might have

killed them all.

His face fell and he turned away, shoulders shaking

with sobs. He buried his face in his hands. They’re

probably fine, he squeaked. Dale had a gun and everything.

They know how to handle themselves.

Kendra felt bad, seeing that Seth clearly was worried

too. She went to him and tried to give him a hug. He

shoved her away. Leave me alone.

Seth, whatever happened isn’t your fault.

Of course it’s my fault! His nose was getting

congested.

I mean, they tricked us. I sort of wanted to open the

window too, when I saw those wolves charging. You know,

in case it wasn’t fake.

I knew it might be a trick, he sobbed. But that baby

looked so real. I thought they might have kidnapped him

to use him as bait. I thought I could save him.

You were trying to do the right thing. She attempted

to hug him once more, but he pushed her away again.

Don’t, he snapped.

I didn’t mean to blame you, said Kendra. You were

acting like you didn’t even care.

Of course I care! You don’t think I’m terrified to go

down there and find out what I did?

You didn’t do it. They tricked you. I would have

opened the window if you hadn’t.

If I would have stayed in bed none of it would have

happened, Seth lamented.

Maybe they’re fine.

Right. And they let a monster come in the house and

up to our door pretending to be Grandpa.

Maybe they had to hide down in the basement or

someplace.

Seth was no longer crying. He picked up a doll and

used her dress to wipe his nose. I hope so.

Just in case something bad did happen, you can’t

blame yourself. All you did was open a window. If those

monsters did something bad, it’s their fault.

Partly.

Grandpa and Lena and Dale all know that living here

is risky. I’m sure they’re fine, but if they aren’t, you mustn’t

blame yourself.

Whatever.

I’m serious.

I like it better when you’re funny.

You know what I liked? Kendra said.

What?

When you saved Goldilocks.

He laughed, snorting a little through his stuffy nostrils.

Did you see how bad the salt burned that guy? He

retrieved the doll and wiped his nose again on the dress.

It was really brave.

I’m just glad it worked.

It was quick thinking.

Seth glanced at the door and then back at Kendra. We

should probably go check out the damage.

If you say so.

Aftermath

Kendra knew it would be bad the moment she opened

the door. Ragged gouges furrowed the walls of the

stairwell. Crude pictograms defaced the far side of the door,

along with an abundance of less orderly nicks and

scratches. Near the base of the stairs, a crusty brown substance

was smeared on the wall.

I’m grabbing some salt, Seth said. He returned to the

ring around the bed and filled his hands and pockets with

the salt that had scorched the intruder the night before.

When Seth rejoined her, Kendra started down the

stairs. The steps creaked loudly in the quiet house. The hall

at the bottom was worse than the stairway. Again the walls

had been savagely raked by claws. The bathroom door was

off its hinges and had three splintery holes of different sizes.

Patches of carpeting were burned and stained.

Kendra moved down the hall, appalled by the aftermath

of the violent night. A smashed mirror. A broken

light fixture. A table reduced to kindling. And at the end

of the hall, a gaping rectangle instead of a window.

Looks like they let others in, Kendra said, pointing

down the hall.

Seth was examining singed hairs in a damp stain on the

floor. Grandpa? he yelled. Anybody!

The silence was an ominous answer.

Kendra descended the stairs to the entry hall. Sections

of the banister were gone. The front door hung askew, an

arrow protruding from the frame. Primitive drawings

marred the walls, some scored, others scrawled.

In a trance, Kendra roamed the lower rooms of the

house. The place had been gutted. Almost all the windows

were destroyed. Battered doors lay far from their frames.

Mutilated furniture bled stuffing onto mangled carpeting.

Shredded drapes dangled in tattered ribbons. Chandeliers

lay in shattered ruins. Half of one charred sofa was entirely

missing.

Kendra wandered to the back porch. Wind chimes lay

in tangles. The furniture was scattered around the garden.

A broken rocking chair balanced atop a fountain. A wicker

love seat protruded from a hedge.

Back in the house, Kendra found Seth in Grandpa’s

office. It looked as if an anvil had fallen on the desk.

Pulverized memorabilia littered the floor.

Everything’s trashed, Seth said.

It looks like a demolition team came through here

with sledgehammers.

Or hand grenades. Seth indicated where tar appeared

to have been slopped against the wall. Is that blood?

It looks too dark to be human.

Seth picked his way around the splintered desk to the

empty window. Maybe they got out.

I hope so.

Out on the lawn, Seth said. Is that a person?

Kendra approached the window. Dale? she shouted.

The prone figure did not move. Come on, Seth said,

hurrying through the wreckage.

Kendra followed him out the front door and around to

the side of the house. They dashed over to the figure lying

supine near an overturned birdbath.

Oh, no, Seth said.

It was a painted statue of Dale. A faithful replica,

except the paint was more simplified than his actual coloring

would have been. His head was turned to one side, eyes

squinted shut, arms raised protectively. The proportions

were exact. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn

the previous night.

Kendra touched the figure. It was made of metal,

clothes and all. Bronze, maybe? Lead? Steel? She rapped

her knuckles against the forearm. Sounded solid. No hollow

ringing.

They turned him into a statue, Seth said.

You think it’s really him?

It has to be!

Help me flip him over.

Both of them strained, but Dale did not budge. He was

way too heavy.

I really blew it, Seth said, palms pressed against his