Fablehaven I (6 page)

coming from the shrubbery on either side of the scant trail,

but did not slow down to investigate.

Something caught a firm hold on his ankle, sending

him tumbling to the ground. Sprawled on his belly, a cut

on one hand, dirt in his mouth, he heard something

rustling through the foliage behind him, and a strange

sound that was either laughter or running water. A dry

branch snapped like a gunshot. Not looking back for fear

of what he might see, Seth scrambled to his feet and

dashed along the path.

Whatever had tripped him had not been a root or a

stone. It had felt like a strong cord stretched across the

trail. A tripwire. He had noticed no such trap previously

on the path. But there was no way the old woman could

have done it, even if she had started running the moment

he passed out of her view.

Seth raced past the place where the trail forked and

sprinted back the way he had come. He scanned the trail

ahead for wires or other traps. His breathing became

labored, but he did not slow down. The air felt hotter and

more humid than it had all day. Sweat began to dampen his

forehead and drip down the sides of his face.

Seth remained alert for the little pyramid of rocks that

would mark where he should leave the path. When he

reached a gnarled little tree with black bark and thorny

leaves, he halted. He remembered the tree. He had noticed

it when he intersected the path. Using the tree as a reference,

he found the spot where he had built the pyramid of

rocks, but the rocks were gone.

Leaves crunched behind him off to one side of the trail.

Seth glanced at his compass to confirm that he was heading

west and ran into the woods. He had walked this way

at a leisurely pace, examining toadstools and unusual rocks

as he went. Now he tore through the forest at full speed,

undergrowth clawing at his legs, branches whipping against

his face and chest.

Finally, panting, the energy of his panic wearing thin,

he glimpsed the house up ahead through the trees. The

sounds of pursuit had dwindled to nothing. As he stepped

out into the yard under the sun, Seth wondered how much

of what he had heard had actually been something chasing

him, and how much had been invented by his flustered

imagination.

* * *

The wall opposite the windows in the playroom held

several rows of bookshelves. The door to the stairs was built

into that wall. And one of the bulky, freestanding

wardrobes was backed up against it.

Kendra held a blue book with golden letters. The title

was
Journal of Secrets.
The book was held shut by three

sturdy clasps, each with a keyhole. The remaining key

Grandpa Sorenson had given her fit none of the keyholes,

but the gold key she had found in the dollhouse armoire fit

the bottom one. So one of the clasps was unlocked.

She had found the book while searching the bookshelves

for a trigger to a secret passage. Using a stool,

Kendra had reached even the higher shelves, but so far the

search had been in vain. There was no sign of a secret door.

When she noticed a locked book with an intriguing title,

she had quit the search in order to test her keys.

With the bottom clasp unlocked, Kendra tried to pry

up the corner of the book and get a peek. But the cover was

solid and the binding firm. She needed to find the other

keys.

She heard somebody stampeding up the stairs and

knew it could be only one person. Hurriedly she shelved

the book and pocketed the keys. She did not want her nosy

brother interfering with her puzzle.

Seth charged through the door and slammed it behind

him. He was flushed and breathing hard. Dirt smeared the

knees of his jeans. His face was smudged with sweat and

grime. You should have come, he sighed, flopping onto

his bed.

You’re getting the bedspread filthy.

It was freaky, he said. It was so cool.

What happened?

I found this path in the woods and met this weird old

lady who lived in a shack. I think she’s a witch. A real

one.

Whatever.

He rolled over and looked at her. I’m serious. You

should have seen her. She was a mess.

So are you.

No, like all scabby and gross. She was biting an old

rope. She tried to make me stick my hand in some box.

Did you?

No way. I took off. But she chased me or something.

She threw rocks at me and knocked down this big branch.

It could have killed me!

You must be pretty bored.

I’m not lying!

I’ll ask Grandpa Sorenson if he has homeless people

living in his woods, Kendra said.

No! He’ll know I broke the rules.

Don’t you think he would want to know a witch built

a shack on his property?

She acted like she knew him. I went pretty far. Maybe

I was off his property.

I doubt it. I think he owns everything for a long ways.

Seth leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

You should come visit her with me. I could find my way

back.

Are you nuts? You said she tried to kill you.

We should spy on her. Find out what she’s up to.

If there really is a weird old lady living in the woods,

you should tell Grandpa so he can call the police.

Seth sat up. Okay. Never mind. I made it up. Feel better?

Kendra narrowed her eyes.

I found something else cool, Seth said. Have you

seen the tree house?

No.

Want me to show you?

Is it in the yard?

Yes, on the edge.

Okay.

Kendra followed Seth outside and across the lawn. Sure

enough, in the corner of the yard opposite the barn, there

was a light blue playhouse up in a thick tree. It was situated

on the back side of the tree, making it hard to see from most

of the yard. The paint was peeling a little, but the little

house had shingles on the roof and curtains in the window.

Boards had been nailed into the tree to form a ladder.

Seth went up first. The rungs led up to a trapdoor,

which he pushed open. Kendra climbed up after him.

Inside, the tree house felt bigger than it looked from

the ground. There was a little table with four chairs. The

pieces to a jigsaw puzzle were spread out on the table. Only

a couple had been fit together.

See, not bad, Seth said. I started that puzzle.

It’s beautiful. You must be gifted.

I didn’t work on it long.

Did you even find the corners?

No.

That’s the first thing you do. She sat down and

started looking for corner pieces. Seth took a seat and

helped. You never like puzzles, Kendra said.

It’s more fun doing them in a tree house.

If you say so.

Seth found a corner piece and set it aside. Think

Grandpa would let me move in here?

You’re a weirdo.

I’d only need a sleeping bag, he said.

You’d get freaked out once it was late.

No way.

The witch might come get you.

Instead of responding, he started looking more intently

for the other corner pieces. Kendra could tell the comment

had gotten to him. She decided not to tease him any further.

The fact that he seemed scared of the lady he had met

in the woods legitimized his story a lot. Seth had never

scared easily. This was the kid who had jumped off the roof

under the misguided assumption that a garbage bag would

work like a parachute. The kid who had put the head of a

live snake in his mouth on a dare.

They found the corners and finished most of the

perimeter of the puzzle by the time they heard Lena calling

them for dinner.

The Hidden Pond

Rain pattered endlessly against the roof. Kendra had

never heard such a noisy downpour. Then again, she

had never been in an attic during a rainstorm. There was

something relaxing about the steady drumming, so constant

that it almost became inaudible without ever decreasing

in volume.

Standing at the window beside the telescope, she

watched the deluge. The rain fell straight and hard. There

was no wind, just layer upon layer of streaking droplets,

blurring into a gray haze in the distance. The gutter below

her was about to overflow.

Seth sat on a stool in the corner, painting. Lena had

been creating paint-by-numbers canvases for him, sketching

them with expert speed, customizing each image to his

specifications. The current project was a dragon battling a

knight on horseback amid a fuming wasteland. Lena had

outlined the images in considerable detail, including

subtleties of light and shade, so that the finished products

looked quite accomplished. She had taught Seth how to

mix paint and given him samples of which hue corresponded

to each number. For the current painting, she had

incorporated more than ninety different shades.

Kendra had rarely seen Seth demonstrate as much diligence

as he did on the paintings. After a few brief lessons

on how to apply the paint, including the purposes of different

brushes and tools, he had already finished a large canvas

of pirates sacking a town and a smaller one of a snake

charmer diving away from a striking cobra. Two impressive

paintings in three days. He was an addict! And he was

almost done with his latest project.

Crossing to the bookshelf, Kendra ran a hand along the

spines of the volumes. She had searched the room thoroughly

and had yet to find the last keyhole, let alone a

secret passage to the other side of the attic. Seth could be a

pest, but now that he had become immersed in his painting,

she was starting to miss him.

Maybe Lena would outline a painting for her. Kendra

had turned down her initial offer, since it sounded childish,

like coloring. But the finished products looked much less

juvenile than Kendra had anticipated.

Kendra opened the door and descended the stairs. The

house was dim and quiet, the rainfall more distant as she

left the attic behind. She walked along the hall and down

the stairs to the main floor.

The house seemed too quiet. All the lights were out

despite the gloom.

Lena?

There was no answer.

Kendra went through the living room, the dining room,

and into the kitchen. No sign of the housekeeper. Had she

left?

Opening the door to the basement, Kendra peered

down the steps into the darkness. The stairs were made of

stone, as if leading to a dungeon. Lena? she called uncertainly.

Surely the woman wasn’t down there without any

light.