Fablehaven: The Complete Series (118 page)

“I want to get dressed in case we have to make a hasty getaway. Don’t watch.”

When Seth was done, he returned to his bed. Kendra gathered her clothes, turned off the lamp, warned Seth not to peek, and changed. She climbed into bed with her shoes on.

“How am I supposed to sleep?” Seth asked after a couple of minutes.

“Pretend nothing is happening. They’re so quiet, it could just be a regular night.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good night, Seth.”

“Don’t let the brownies bite.”

* * *

Seth slept lightly the rest of the night, often waking with a jolt, body rigid, feeling flustered and disoriented. A few times he clicked on the lamp to make sure there were no savage brownies scampering around on the floor. He even leaned down to peer under the bed, just in case.

Finally he awoke to find pink light bleeding through the curtains. He got out of bed without disturbing Kendra, crossed to the window, and waited for the increased light of the sun clearing the horizon. He noticed no fairies while he waited.

A few minutes after direct sunlight brightened the morning, Seth heard the attic stairs creaking. He shook Kendra awake, then went to the door. “Who’s there?”

“Glad you’re awake,” Warren called. “Don’t open the door.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been booby-trapped. Actually, on second thought, if you want, you can pull the door open swiftly, just stay behind it and off to the side. Make sure Kendra is positioned out of the way as well.”

“Okay.” Kendra got out of bed and stood beside the door. Seth gripped the knob, turned it slowly, then yanked the door open, staying behind it as he lunged to the side. Three arrows whistled into the room and thudded high against the far wall.

“Nicely done,” Warren approved. “Take a look at the stairway.”

Seth peeked through the doorway. Numerous wires crisscrossed the stairs, high and low, horizontal and diagonal. Many of the wires ran through pulleys or hooks that had been affixed to the walls. Several crossbows had been rigged in high corners of the stairwell, most pointing at the attic door, others defending it. Down in the hall, a shotgun propped on a cleverly designed rack was aimed up the stairs. Warren crouched against the wall a third of the way up the steps, having already threaded past several tripwires.

“Where did all the weapons come from?” Kendra asked from behind Seth.

“The brownies raided an arsenal in the dungeon,” Warren said. “Many additional weapons were custom-made. This stairway is only the beginning. The whole house has been booby-trapped. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“How do we get down the stairs?” Kendra asked.

Warren shook his head slightly. “I was planning to disable the traps, but the cords are complicated. Some are rigged to trigger multiple traps at once; some are decoys. I’m having a hard time making sure which wire does what. When you pulled the door open, one of the arrows grazed my ear. I didn’t see it coming.”

“Maybe we could go out on the roof and get down that way,” Seth suggested.

“At least a dozen dark fairies are waiting in ambush. Going outside is not an option right now.”

“Didn’t Grandpa ban fairies from the yard?” Kendra asked.

Warren nodded. “Before he banned them, dark fairies must have hidden near the house. The register won’t expel creatures who have already accessed the yard. It will only prevent new ones from entering.”

“Tricky,” Seth said.

“Last night was well planned,” Warren said. “This plague is not spreading randomly. Somebody directed a deliberate, coordinated assault. Worst of all, before your grandparents awoke, the brownies got hold of the register.”

“Oh, no!” Kendra groaned. “If the brownies altered the register, that might also explain the dark fairies.”

“Good point.” Warren backed down a step and stretched. “Anything may be able to access the house soon. We have to clear out of here.”

“Is Hugo all right?” Seth asked.

“The golem has been spending the nights in a safe room inside the barn. Your Grandpa is doing everything he can to prevent Hugo from becoming infected. Hugo will come when we call. He should be fine in the barn until we do.”

“So now we have to limbo down the stairs with our lives at stake,” Kendra said.

“Why don’t I just shove the rocking horse down the stairway,” Seth suggested. “We could all just stand back and let most of the traps go off.”

Warren stared at him for a moment. “That actually might work just fine. Give me a minute to backtrack. Duck away from the door in case I accidentally set off a trap or two.”

Seth went to the unicorn rocking horse and dragged it over near the doorway. He thought the curved runners under the horse would help it sled down the stairs quite well. In fact, under other circumstances, he might have tried riding the rocking horse down the stairs for fun. Why did fabulous ideas tend to occur to him at the wrong time?

“I’m ready,” Warren called. “Stay well away from the doorway. I expect it will be bombarded by a volley of quarrels, darts, and arrows.”

Seth positioned the rocking horse at the top at the stairs and lay down behind it. “I’ll shove it with my feet, then roll out of the way.”

Kendra stood off to the side of the door. “I’ll slam the door as soon as it’s through, then dive clear.”

Seth placed the soles of his shoes on the unicorn’s rump. “One . . . two . . . three!” He gave the rocking horse a push and rolled sideways. Kendra heaved the door closed and lunged away.

A gunshot rang out, blasting a hole in the door. A crossbow quarrel zinged through the hole and stuck quivering into the opposite wall. Seth heard the rocking horse clattering down the staircase, the twang of bowstrings, and the overlapping beat of several other projectiles thudding against the door.

“That was awesome,” Seth told Kendra.

“You’re psychotic,” Kendra replied.

“Well done!” Warren called from below. “The horse tipped and missed a few of the higher cords, but the way is now fairly clear.”

Looking down the stairs, Seth saw several feathered shafts embedded in the floor around where Warren now stood. The rocking horse lay on its side leaning against the bottom step, bristling with arrows and missing its horn. “Wasn’t that awesome?” Seth asked.

Warren cocked his head, his expression mildly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Kendra—it was pretty cool.”

“All boys belong in insane asylums,” Kendra said.

“Watch your step on the way down,” Warren instructed. “At least two of the crossbows are still armed. And see the ax tied to that rope? It will come free and swing toward you if you touch that steep cord on the left.”

Seth started down the stairs, ducking wires as he went, trying to avoid even the slack cords the rocking horse had already tripped. Kendra waited until he was standing beside Warren, and then carefully descended the staircase.

The hall at the bottom of the stairs contained a new web of wires. Although there were some crossbows, most of the traps involved curiously designed catapults meant to hurl knives and hatchets.

Seth noticed a tiny piece of brown wood hanging on the wall from a golden hook. “Is that part of Mendigo?”

Warren nodded. “I’ve seen a few pieces of him around. He’s been staying the night inside the house. The brownies dismantled him.”

Seth reached for the piece of the puppet. Warren put an arm on his elbow to stop him. “Wait. All the pieces of Mendigo are rigged to traps.”

Grandma and Grandpa Sorenson appeared farther down the hall. “Thank goodness you’re all right,” Grandma said, placing a hand over her bosom. “Don’t come this way. Our room is a nest of nasty traps. Besides, we all need to end up downstairs eventually.”

“You should have seen the attic stairway,” Warren said. “It was crammed with more deathtraps than any other part of the house so far. Seth pushed the rocking horse down the stairs to deliberately set off the majority.”

“We heard the clamor and were concerned,” Grandpa said. “How do we proceed, Warren?”

“It will be hard to spring all the traps on purpose,” Warren said. “Many are protected by countertraps. Our best bet is to make our way downstairs one at a time, individually navigating the obstacles. I’ll help coach each of you through.”

“Me first,” Grandpa said.

“Where’s Dale?” Kendra asked.

“He was with me,” Warren replied. “While I helped you escape the attic, he continued along the hall, heading for the garage. He wants to make sure the vehicles are in order.”

“Everyone else out of the hall,” Grandpa said.

Grandma stepped out of sight. Seth and Kendra sat at the foot of the attic stairs.

“Be watchful, Stan,” Warren said. “Some of the tripwires are more apparent than others. Most are fairly visible, but a few are fashioned out of fishing line or thread. Like the one right in front of you, at the height of your knees.”

“I see it,” Grandpa said.

“If you accidentally brush a wire, fall flat. Most of the traps appear to be designed to strike an upright target.”

Warren proceeded to guide Stan down the hall. Seth and Kendra listened to Warren’s instructions as Grandpa descended the stairs to the entry hall. Grandpa made an increasing number of snappy comments as impatience eroded his composure.

Finally Grandpa reached the living room and Warren began directing Grandma. While Grandma was on the stairs, there was a tremendous crash in the entry hall. Warren called out that nobody had been injured. Soon he came and got Kendra, and Seth found himself waiting alone on the bottom step.

At last Warren returned for him. Seth did not find dodging over and under the cords in the hall very difficult, although a few were difficult to see. Upon reaching the top of the stairs to the entry hall, Seth chuckled. A grandfather clock, an armoire, a display case, a suit of armor, and a heavy rocking chair covered with spikes were all suspended from the roof of the entry hall. A china cabinet had apparently also been suspended there, but had fallen, accounting for the crash he had heard.

Seth picked his way carefully down the stairs, heeding Warren’s counsel on which wire to go over, which to go under, and how to position his body. The wires were more prevalent on the stairs than they had been in the hall, and a few times Seth felt like a contortionist. He was impressed that Grandma and Grandpa had been able to manage the descent.

When he reached the living room, Seth was relieved to find there were fewer traps on the ground floor than had crowded the upstairs hall and stairways. Any pieces of furniture unaffiliated with traps had been reworked into tortured, unusable shapes. “Some of those wires were too close together,” Seth commented, wiping perspiration from his forehead.

“I thought you were immune to fear,” Kendra teased.

“Magical fear,” Seth clarified. “I still have regular emotions. I’m no more eager than the next guy to get squished by a grandfather clock.”

Simultaneously ducking a thick cord and stepping over a threadlike wire, Dale entered the living room. “The vehicles have been sabotaged,” he said. “The engine parts are all over the garage, connected to traps.”

“What about the phone?” Grandpa asked.

“The lines are down,” Dale reported.

“Don’t you have your cell?” Kendra asked.

“The brownies stole it off of my dresser,” Grandpa said. “Your grandmother and I are lucky we didn’t get contaminated. There were several brownies in the room when we awoke. If Warren and Dale hadn’t barged in and raised the alarm, I’m sure the little monsters would have transformed us into shadows in our sleep.”

“Your grandpa was impressive,” Warren said. “He used the bedspread to hold them at bay while we retreated into the attic through the door in his bathroom closet.”

Grandpa waved a dismissive hand. “What of the front gate, Dale?”

“I went as far down the driveway as I dared, holding the fairies off with flash powder, like you told me. The gate is shut and barred, with loads of creatures guarding it.”