Nightfall Gardens (17 page)

“I’ve sworn Polly and Ozy to secrecy,” she said. “The house won’t be strong enough to fend off the forces coming from the outside for much longer. That’s why I’ve got to read Abigail’s diary and see if she knew where Pandora’s Box was hidden. If one of the creatures from the Gardens finds it first, no one will be safe. According to the prophecy, once the last of the old gods is released from the box, the Gardens will fall and the world will be drowned in darkness.”

Silas shuddered. “We have to stop that,” he said.

“We’ll do the best we can,” she said. “It seems overwhelming, but I try to remind myself that we’re Blackwoods. There’s nothing we can’t do, dad used to say.”

“He did at that,” Silas said.

Finally it came time to leave. Silas gave Lily a last hug and headed to
ward the door. “May the light follow you even in the deepest dark,” Lily said, as Silas was about to leave.
“You too,” he said. “Take care of yourself. I’ll visit as soon as I get back.”

“You’d better,” Lily said. “I’m the lady of the house now and I’m ordering you to come see me as often as you can.”

“I will,” Silas said giving her a smile.

That night, he tossed and turned on his bunk for many hours before sleep finally came. He woke to Jonquil prodding him in the side with his staff. “Get up, boy. The day’s not getting younger.”

Silas ate a quick breakfast and rolled his few belongings into a sack. By the time he made it outside, Jonquil was already saddled on his white horse. He wasn’t the only one. Looking angry enough to spit claw nails, Larkspur’s massive bulk was planted on top of a horse that looked as if its knees would buckle at its overburdening load. And another dusk rider, Dan Trainer, was sitting on a dappled horse. Trainer had a pockmarked face and ears that hung all the way to his Adam’s apple. Silas hardly knew him.

“Glad you decided to join us, boy,” Larkspur said. “I’d hate to have to delay our vacation to the beautiful mist lands. Once you’ve seen ‘em, you’ll never want to again.” He spit into the dirt and glared at Jonquil.

The rest of the dusk riders gathered in front of the bunkhouse to see the four of them off. A black pony was brought out and Silas climbed on top. Skuld and Arfast came over to talk with him. Skuld laid his one arm on the horse and began to stroke its muzzle. “This is my baby here,” he said. “She rides like the wind when she needs to and has sure feet even in the mist. Watch your back out there, lad.”

Arfast grinned and punched Silas on the shoulder. “This’ll be nothing as bad as the
White Garden. The worst you’ll have to defend yourself against is the village girls. But if you do run into anything, remember to keep your head. If you stay calm, you can always outwit your opponent,” he said winking.

Silas didn’t have time to respond before Jonquil was calling out to the assembled group.

“There are dark days approaching,” he said. “But the dusk riders have faced them before and we will face them again. Always keep your aim true and your heart pure and everything else will follow.” With that he kicked his horse into gear and led the four of them off the hill toward the trees. Silas fell in at the back of the group, behind Dan Trainer. He could hear Larkspur complaining bitterly to Jonquil as they rode. “Don’t know why I have to come along,” he said. “Any of the riders would have been faster than me.”

“And not as many of them need to be kept out of trouble,” Jonquil said as they followed the trail into the trees.

Silas looked back once before he was swallowed by the mist and saw the peaks and gables of Nightfall Manor rising above the three gardens. It looked like a house full of secrets. At the bunkhouse, the riders were filing back inside or saddling up for the morning ride. Movement on the hill where Mr. Hawthorne lived caught his attention and he was surprised to see Cassandra standing there with one hand shading her eyes as if she were looking straight at him. Osbold flew above her in circles. The green girl raised her hand and waved. He waved back as the tendrils of mist swirled around him and then she was gone from sight. He hoped she’d seen him. Then he gave a silent prayer that his sister would be safe. With that, he turned and followed his uncle and the others into the mist until they disappeared into the white fog.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No book is written in a vacuum and this one couldn’t have been finished without my beautiful wife Kim, who nudged me out of bed before dawn, was my first reader and encouraged me when I was filled with doubt. You inspire me with the generosity and love you bring to our family.

To Blaine Palmer for being a faithful reader and best friend and always telling me what he thinks about my writing. There’s a little of your magic in this book.

Frank Sentner, thanks for pouring over the manuscript with a fine tooth comb and for raising such an amazing daughter.

Marissa Maier, your early suggestions helped shape the beginning and informed the rest of the novel.

To Tony Roberts for helping to bring my story to life in your illustration.

I had a great proofreader and editor in the indomitable Regan Hoffman. Thanks so much for your hard work and feedback on where you thought the book went right and strayed from the path.

Jason Heid, my old compadre. You read your way through a lot of my writing, never complaining, always supportive. Thanks.

Romeo Alaeff, how many countless hours have we spent talking about art and writing? From
Dallas to Berlin, thanks for having my back.

A shout out goes to my brother Grant.
Nightfall Gardens is a throwback to the stories I used to tell when we were children. No wonder it was so hard for you to fall asleep.

Finally, I’d like to thank the kids. Lily Rodgers for being my first under 10 reader and badgering me about when the second book was coming out. And Lily
Butler, Oggie Johnson, Roman Meek and Abigail Flynn. Children of friends. The future is yours.

A
bout the Author

Allen Houston is a native Oklahoman who has lived in
Japan and Indonesia. He has worked as a journalist at the
Dallas Morning News
and
New York Post
. He’s currently city editor for
Metro, New York.
Allen lives in Brooklyn with his wife, daughter and a menagerie of animals.