Grip of the Shadow Plague Page 30


"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 actuallymight work just fine. Give me a minute to backtrack. Duckaway 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." Grandpa scowled, pounding a fist into his palm. "I can't believe I lost the register. They've used it to lock us in."


"And they could let anybody they want into Fablehaven now," Kendra said.


"If they so choose," Grandpa said. "I expect Vanessa had it right. The Society is finished with Fablehaven. They have no idea that a second artifact may be hidden here. Nobody will be coming in. The Sphinx simply wants this preserve to self-destruct."


"What do we do?" Seth asked.


"We retreat to the nearest bastion of relative safety," Grandpa said. "Hopefully at the pond we can formulate a plan."


"We should have gotten you kids out of here when we had the chance," Grandma lamented.


"We wouldn't leave you even if we could," Seth assured her. "We'll figure out a way to stop this plague."


Grandpa frowned pensively. "Can we get to the tents?"


"I think so," Dale said. "They're in the garage."


"What else should we bring?" Grandpa asked.


"I have extra flash powder from the attic and my crossbow," Grandma said.


"Tanu's potions are all over his room, attached to traps," Warren said. "I'll try to retrieve some."


"While you're up there, see if you can grab a picture of Patton," Kendra said. "We need bait for Lena."


"Good idea," Grandpa said.


"What about Mendigo?" Seth asked, nodding toward the corner of the room where the limberjack's torso dangled from the ceiling, connected by a network of wires to two crossbows and two small catapults.


"Too many pieces to that puzzle," Grandma said. "We'll put him back together if we ever get out of this."


"You and the kids stay put," Grandpa told Grandma. "I'm going to get some provisions from the pantry. Ruth, give Seth some walrus butter."


Seth slapped his forehead. "No wonder I didn't see any dark fairies in the yard out the window this morning. How come I saw them last night, after sleeping for a while?"


"It can be hard to predict at what hour of the night the milk will stop working," Grandma said. "The only sure way to keep it functioning is to stay awake. We keep a stash of walrus butter in the attic, so we already had our dose for the day."


Seth dipped a finger in the butter she offered and tasted it. "I prefer the milk."


Warren patted Seth on the arm. "When opening the fridge might mean an arrow in your throat, stick with the butter."


"Let's split up and gather what we need," Grandpa said. "This house is no longer a reliable shelter. I don't want to remain here a minute longer than necessary."


Seth squatted on the floor beside Kendra while Warren, Dale, and Grandpa departed. Grandma leaned against the wall. Bristling with spikes and blades and barbs, none of the furniture was fit to hold them.


Chapter Sixteen


Refuge


Hugo tromped swiftly across the backyard, hauling the empty cart through hedges and over flower beds, finally backing it up against the deck. Warren opened the back door and leapt from the deck into the cart, scanning the air for fairies, his fists full of flash powder. After a moment he motioned for the others to follow.


Grandpa, Grandma, Kendra, Seth, and Dale piled into the cart, each lugging a tent or some sleeping bags. "Hugo, race to the pond as quickly as you're able," Grandpa directed.


The cart lurched forward, bucking and swaying as Hugo pounded across the yard at a furious pace. Kendra lost her footing, dropping to her knees. She dug a handful of flash powder out of the bag Grandma had entrusted to her. The others got powder ready as well, except Dale, who held a net in one hand, a compound bow in the other, and had a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder.


They rumbled across the yard without seeing any fairies, then Hugo charged down a dirt road. Kendra knew that the entrance to the pond was not very far. She was beginning to hope they might reach their destination without encountering any resistance when a group of dark fairies swarmed into view up ahead.


"Right in front of us," Grandpa said.


"I see them," Dale said.


"Wait until they get close," Warren warned. "At this speed the powder won't hang in the air to protect us. We need direct hits."


The fairies fanned out and swooped at the cart from all directions. Standing at the front of the cart, Grandpa hurled his powder forward, spreading it wide. Some of the incoming fairies veered away as light flashed and sparks sizzled.


Kendra flung her handful of glittery silver dust. Electricity crackled, zapping fairies from the air as they came into contact with the volatile substance.


Hugo raced onward, swerving periodically to help avoid the darting fairies. Dark fairies squealed as more handfuls of powder were thrown. The fairies fired shadowy streaks at the cart. Blinding flashes flared whenever the dark energy struck the powder.


The tall hedge enclosing the pond came into view. A footpath diverged from the road and led through a gap in the hedge. Three dark satyrs guarded the entrance to the pond, their heads as goatlike as their legs.

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