Fablehaven: The Complete Series (20 page)

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.”

Chapter 11

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 temples. “What have I done?”

“Maybe we can change him back.”

Seth kneeled down and put his mouth to Dale’s ear. “If you can hear me, give us a sign!” he yelled.

The metallic figure made no response.

“Do you think Grandpa and Lena are around here too?” Kendra asked.

“We’ll have to look.”

Kendra cupped her hands around her mouth. “Grandpa! Grandpa Sorenson! Lena! Can you hear me?”

“Look at this,” Seth said, crouching beside the overturned birdbath. The birdbath had tipped over toward a flowerbed. In the flowerbed was a clear footprint—three large toes and a narrow heel. The print was big enough to suggest that it came from a creature at least the size of a grown man.

“Giant bird?”

“Check out the hole behind the heel.” He stuck a finger into a nickel-sized hole. “A couple inches deep.”

“Weird.”

Seth acted excited. “It has a pointy thing on the back of its heel, a spur or something.”

“Which means what?”

“We can probably track it.”

“Track it?”

Seth moved forward in the direction the toes pointed, scanning the ground. “See!” He crouched, pointing at a hole in the lawn. “That spur digs deep. It should leave a clear trail.”

“And what happens if you catch up to whatever made the tracks?”

He patted his pockets. “I throw some salt and rescue Grandpa.”

“How do you know it took Grandpa?”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But it’s a start.”

“What if it turns you into a painted statue?”

“I won’t look directly at it. Just in mirrors.”

“Where’d you get
that
 from?”

“History.”