Fablehaven: The Complete Series (19 page)

The wind rose again, steadily gaining force. Warbling moans echoed on the breeze, groaning in different pitches, forming eerie, discordant harmonies. A long, birdlike scream overpowered the ghostly chorus of moans, starting at one side of the house, passing overhead, and finally fading. In the distance, a bell began to toll.

Seth no longer looked quite so brave. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” he said, putting in the earplugs.

Kendra did likewise. The sounds were muffled, but continued: the haunted wind lamenting, the house shuddering, an increasing assortment of shrieks, screams, howls, and wild bursts of gibbering laughter. The pillow grew warm, so Kendra flipped it over to the cold side.

The only light in the room had been filtering through the curtains. As twilight dimmed, the room darkened. Kendra pressed her hands over her ears, trying to augment the dampening power of the earplugs. She told herself the sounds were just a storm.

A deep, throbbing beat joined the cacophony, keeping a steady rhythm. As the pulsing percussion increased in volume and tempo, it was accompanied by chanting in a wailing language. Kendra resisted otherworldly images of vicious demons on the hunt.

A pair of hands closed around her throat. She jumped and flailed, smacking Seth across the cheek with the back of her hand.

“Jeez!” Seth complained, stumbling away.

“You asked for it! What’s the matter with you?”

“You should have seen your face,” he laughed, recovering from the slap.

“Get back in bed.”

He sat on the side of her bed. “You should take out your earplugs. The noise isn’t so bad after a while. It reminds me of that CD Dad plays on Halloween.”

She removed them. “Except it’s shaking the house. And it isn’t make-believe.”

“Don’t you want to look out the window?”

“No! Stop talking about it!”

Seth leaned over and turned on the nightlight—a glowing statuette of Snoopy. “I don’t see the big deal. I mean, there are all sorts of cool things out there right now. What’s wrong with just taking a little peek?”

“Grandpa said not to get out of your bed!”

“Grandpa lets people look when they get older,” Seth said. “Dale told me. So it can’t be that dangerous. Grandpa just thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, and he’s right!”

“Think about it. You wouldn’t want to run across a tiger out in the wilderness. You’d be scared to death. But at a zoo, who cares? It can’t get you. This room is safe. Peeking out the window will be like looking at a zoo full of monsters.”

“More like looking out of a shark cage.”

A sudden, staccato flurry of pounding shook the roof, as if a team of horses were galloping across the shingles. Seth flinched, raising his arms protectively. Kendra heard the creak and rattle of wagon wheels.

“Don’t you want to see what that was?” Seth asked.

“Are you trying to tell me that didn’t scare you?”

“I expect to be scared. That’s the whole point!”

“If you don’t get back in bed,” warned Kendra, “I’m telling Grandpa in the morning.”

“Don’t you want to see who’s playing the drums?”

“Seth, I’m not kidding. You probably won’t even be able to see anything.”

“We have a telescope.”

Something outside roared, a thunderous bellow of bestial ferocity. It was enough to silence the conversation. The night continued to rage. The roar came again, if anything with greater intensity, momentarily drowning out all the other commotion.

Kendra and Seth eyed one another. “I bet it’s a dragon,” he said breathlessly, running over to the window.

“Seth, no!”

Seth pulled aside the curtain. The four jack-o-lanterns shed a mellow illumination across the portion of the roof directly beyond the window. For a moment Seth thought he saw something swirling in the darkness at the edge of the light, a whirling mass of silky black fabric. Then he saw only blackness.

“No stars,” he reported.

“Seth, get away from there.” Kendra had her sheets pulled up to her eyes.

He squinted through the window a moment longer. “Too dark; I can’t see anything.” A glimmering fairy floated up from one of the jack-o-lanterns, peering at Seth through the slightly warped windowpane. “Hey, a fairy came out.” The tiny fairy waved an arm and was joined by three others. One made a face at Seth, and then all four streaked away into the night.

Now he could see nothing. Seth closed the curtain and backed away from the window. “You had your look,” Kendra said. “Are you satisfied?”

“The fairies in the jack-o-lanterns flew away,” he said.

“Nice work. They probably saw who they were guarding.”

“Actually, I think you’re right. One made a face at me.”

“Get back in bed,” Kendra ordered.

The drumming ceased, along with the chanting. The ghostly wind grew quiet. The howls and screams and laughter diminished in volume and frequency. Something pattered across the roof. Then . . . silence.

“Something’s wrong,” Seth whispered.

“They probably saw you; get back in bed.”

“I have a flashlight in my emergency kit.” He went to the nightstand by his bed and withdrew a small flashlight from the cereal box.

Kendra kicked off her sheets and lunged at Seth, tackling him onto his bed. She wrenched the flashlight from his grasp and pushed off him to regain her feet. He charged her. Twisting, she used his momentum to shove him onto her bed.

“Quit it, Seth, or I’ll go get Grandpa right now!”

“I’m not the one starting a fight!” His expression was a portrait of wounded resentment. She hated when he tried to act like the victim after initiating trouble.

“Neither am I.”

“First you hit me, then you jump on me?”

“You stop breaking the rules or I’m going straight downstairs.”

“You’re worse than the witch. Grandpa should build you a shack.”

“Get in your bed.”

“Give me my light. I bought it with my own money.”

They were interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. There was nothing desperate about it, just the bawling of an upset infant. The crying seemed to emanate from outside the darkened window.

“A little baby,” Seth said.

“No, it’s some trick.”

“Maaamaaaaaaa,” the baby whined.

“Sounds pretty real,” Seth said. “Let me take a look.”

“It’s going to be a skeleton or something.”

Seth grabbed the flashlight from Kendra. She neither gave it to him nor prevented him from taking it. He jogged over to the window. Holding the front of flashlight against the windowpane, and cupping a hand around it to minimize reflection, he switched it on.

“Oh my gosh,” he said. “It really is a baby!”

“Anything else?”

“Just a crying baby.” The crying stopped. “Now he’s looking at me.”

Kendra could no longer resist. She went and stood behind Seth. There on the roof just beyond the window stood a tear-streaked toddler who looked barely old enough to stand. The baby wore cloth diapers and nothing else. He had wispy blonde curls and a little round tummy with an outie bellybutton. Eyes brimming with tears, the child held out its pudgy arms toward the window.

“It has to be a trick,” Kendra said. “An illusion.”

Spotlighted by the flashlight, the toddler took a step toward the window and fell to all fours. He pouted, on the verge of crying again. Standing up, the baby tried another wobbly step. Goose bumps stood out on his chest and arms.

“He looks real,” said Seth. “What if he’s real?”

“Why would a baby be on the roof?”

The baby toddled to the window, pressing a chubby palm against the glass. Something glinted in the light behind him. Seth shifted the beam onto a pair of green-eyed wolves approaching stealthily from the edge of the roof. The animals paused as the light fell on them. Both looked mangy and lean. One of the wolves bared sharp teeth, foam frothing from its mouth. The other was missing an eye.

“They’re using him as bait!” Seth yelled.

The baby looked back at the wolves, then turned back toward Seth and Kendra, bawling with renewed vigor, fresh tears streaming, tiny hands slapping the windowpanes. The wolves charged. The toddler wailed.

In her cage, Goldilocks clucked wildly.

Seth threw open the window.

“No!” Kendra shouted, although she reflexively wanted to do the same thing.

The instant the window opened, wind gushed into the room, as if the air itself had been waiting to pounce. The baby dove into the room, transforming grotesquely as it landed on the floor in a deft somersault. The child was replaced by a leering goblin with yellow slits for eyes, a puckered nose, and a face like a dried cantaloupe. Bald and scabrous on top, the head was fringed by long, weblike hair. The sinuous arms were gangly, the hands long and leathery, tipped with hooked claws. Ribs, collarbones, and pelvis jutted hideously. Spidery networks of veins bulged against maroon flesh.

With supernatural haste, the wolves also sailed through the window before Seth could move to close it. Kendra shoved past Seth and jerked the window shut in time to impede the entrance of a coldly beautiful woman swathed in writhing black garments. The apparition’s dark hair undulated like vapor in a breeze. Her pallid face was slightly translucent. Gazing into those empty, searing eyes froze Kendra where she stood. Babbling whispers filled her mind. Her mouth felt dry. She could not swallow.

Seth yanked the curtains shut and tugged Kendra toward the bed. Whatever trance had momentarily gorgonized her dissolved. Disoriented, she ran alongside Seth to the bed, sensing something in pursuit. When they leaped onto the mattress, a brilliant light flared behind them, accompanied by a crisp stutter like firecrackers.

Kendra twisted to get a look. The maroon goblin stood near the bed, coddling its bony shoulder. The scowling creature stood about as tall as Dale. Hesitantly it reached a knobby hand toward her, and another bright flash sent it staggering away.

The circle of salt! At first she had not grasped why Seth was dragging her to the bed. At least one of them was thinking! Glancing down, Kendra saw that the two-inch dune of salt surrounding the bed indeed marked the line the goblin could not cross.

A twelve-foot centipede with three sets of wings and three pairs of taloned feet corkscrewed around the room in a complex aerial display. A brutish monster with a pronounced underbite and plates down its spine hurled a wardrobe across the room. The wolves had shed their disguises as well.

The maroon goblin cavorted around the room in a feral tantrum, tearing down bookshelves, upsetting toy chests, and snapping the horn off the rocking horse. It picked up Goldilocks’s cage and flung it against the wall. The slender bars crumpled and the door sprang open. The terrified chicken took to ungainly flight in a flurry of golden feathers.

Goldilocks was coming toward the bed. The winged centipede struck at the flustered hen but missed. The maroon demon made an acrobatic leap and caught the chicken by both legs. Goldilocks clucked and squirmed in mortal panic.

Seth jumped off the bed. Crouching, he scooped up two handfuls from the circle of salt and charged the wiry goblin. Now holding the chicken in one hand, the sneering 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.