Fablehaven I (21 page)

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