Fablehaven Page 18


There been peoples here, she accused in a husky, accented voice. Where you peoples be?


The satyr placed a finger against his lips. Kendra held perfectly still, trying to breathe softly despite her alarm.


She tried to plan which direction she would run.


The ogress lumbered down the slope toward their hiding place, sniffing high and low. I heared peoples. I smelled peoples. And I smell my stew. Peoples been at my stew again. You come out now to apologize.


The satyr shook his head, slitting his throat with a finger for emphasis. Seth slid a hand into a pocket. The satyr touched his wrist and shook his head with a scowl.


The ogress had already closed half the distance to the bush. You peoples like my stew so much, maybe you take a bath in it.


Kendra resisted the urge to bolt. The ogress would be on them in moments. But the satyr seemed to know what he was doing. He held up a hand, tacitly signaling for them to keep still.


Without warning, something began crashing through the bushes about twenty yards to their right. The ogress pivoted and stumbled toward the ruckus with a quick, awkward gait.


The satyr nodded. They scrambled out of the bush and started down the hill. Behind them, the ogress skidded to a halt and changed direction, coming after them. The goatman pitched the bucket of stew into a tangled patch of thorns and bounded over a fallen log. Kendra and Seth sprinted after him.


Propelled by her downward momentum, Kendra found herself taking larger steps than she wanted. Each time her foot touched the ground became a fresh opportunity to lose her balance and tumble forward. Seth stayed a couple of steps ahead of her, and the swift satyr was gradually increasing his lead.


Heedless of obstacles, the ogress pursued them noisily, trampling bushes and tearing through branches. She breathed in damp, wheezing gasps and cursed periodically, reverting to her unintelligible native tongue. Despite her cumbersome size and apparent exhaustion, the misshapen ogress was rapidly gaining.


Chapter Sixteen


The slope leveled out. Behind Kendra the ogress fell, branches and deadfalls snapping like fireworks. Kendra glanced back, catching a glimpse of the burly ogress surging to her feet.


The satyr led them into a shallow ravine, where they found the wide entrance to a dark tunnel. This way, he said, dashing into the tunnel. Although it looked spacious enough for the ogress to enter, Seth and Kendra followed without question. The satyr appeared confident, and he had been right so far.


The tunnel grew darker the deeper they ran. Heavy footsteps followed them. Kendra glanced back. The ogress filled the subterranean passageway, blocking out much of the light filtering in from the opening.


It became hard to see the satyr up ahead. The tunnel was growing narrower. Close behind Kendra, the ogress gasped and coughed. Hopefully she would have a heart attack and collapse.


For a space, the darkness became complete. Then it began to brighten. The tunnel continued to shrink. Soon Kendra had to crouch, and the walls were within reach at either side. The satyr slackened his pace, looking back with a mischievous grin. Kendra checked over her shoulder as well.


The panting ogress crawled and then scooted forward on her belly, wheezing and choking. When she could worm no farther, she roared in frustration, a strained, throaty cry.


After that it sounded like she vomited.


Up ahead the satyr was crawling. The passage slanted upward. They emerged through a small gap into a bowl-shaped depression. A second satyr stood waiting for them.


The second had redder hair than the first and slightly longer horns. He motioned for them to follow.


The two satyrs and two children charged recklessly through the woods for a few more minutes. When they arrived at a clearing with a tiny pond, the redheaded satyr stopped and faced the others.


What was the idea, ruining our operation? he asked.


Clumsy work, the other satyr agreed.


We didn't know, Kendra said. We thought it was a well.


You thought a chimney was a well? the redhead complained.


I suppose you sometimes mistake icicles for carrots?


Or wagons for outhouses?


It had a bucket, Seth said.


And it was in the ground, Kendra added.


They have a point, the other satyr said.


You were on the roof of the ogress's lair, explained the redhead.


We get it now, Seth said. We thought it was a hill.


Nothing wrong with pinching a bit of soup from her cauldron, the redhead continued. We try to be free with our assets. But you need to use some delicacy. A little finesse. At least wait until the old lady falls asleep. Who are you, anyhow?


Seth Sorenson.


Kendra.


I am Newel, said the redhead. This is Doren. You realize we'll probably have to construct a whole new rigging?


She'll rip the old one down, Doren explained.


Almost more work than cooking our own stew, Newel huffed.


We can't make it come out like she does, Doren mourned.


She has a gift, Newel agreed.


We're sorry, Kendra said. We were a little lost.


Doren waved a hand. Don't worry. We just like to bluster. If you spoiled our wine, that would be another story.


Still, Newel said, a guy has to eat, and free stew is free stew.


We'll try to find a way to repay you, Kendra said.


So will we, Newel said.


You don't happen to have any... batteries? Doren asked.


Batteries? Seth asked, wrinkling his nose.


Size C, Newel clarified.


Kendra folded her arms. Why do you want batteries?


They're shiny, Newel said, nudging Doren with an elbow.


We worship them, Doren said, nodding sagely. They seem like little gods to us.


The kids stared at the goatmen in disbelief, unsure how to continue the conversation. They were obviously lying.


Okay, Newel said. We have a portable television.


Don't tell Stan.


We had a mountain of batteries, but we ran out.


And our supplier is no longer employed here.


We could work out an arrangement. Newel spread his hands diplomatically. Some batteries to repent for disrupting our stew siphoning- Then we can trade for more. Gold, booze, you name it. Doren lowered his voice slightly. Of course, we would need to keep our arrangement private.


Stan doesn't like us watching the tube, said Newel.


You know our Grandpa? Seth asked.


Who doesn't? Newel said.


You haven't seen him lately? Kendra asked.


Sure, just last week, Doren said.


I mean since last night.


No, why? Newel said.


Haven't you heard? Seth asked.


The satyrs shrugged at each other. What's the news?


Newel asked.


Our Grandpa was kidnapped last night, Kendra said.


Your grandfather is a kid? Newel said.


They mean he was abducted, Doren clarified.


Kendra nodded. Creatures got into the house and took him and our housekeeper.


Not Dale? Doren asked.


We don't think so, Seth said.


Newel shook his head. Poor Dale. Never been very popular.


Lousy sense of humor, Doren agreed. Too quiet.


You guys don't know who might have taken them?


Kendra asked.


On Midsummer Eve? Newel said, tossing up his hands. Anybody. Your guess would be better than mine.


Could you help us find him? Seth asked.


The satyrs shared an uneasy glance. Yeah, ouch, Newel began uncomfortably, this is a bad week for us.


Lots of commitments, Doren confirmed, backing away.


You know, now that I've thought on it, Newel said, we may have needed a new rigging on the chimney anyhow.


How about we go our separate ways and call it even?


Don't take anything we said to heart, Doren said.


We were just being satirical.


Seth stepped forward. Do you know something you aren't telling us?


It isn't that, Newel said, continuing his slow retreat.


It's just Midsummer Day. We're booked.


Thanks for helping us get away from the ogress, Kendra said.


Our pleasure, Newel replied.


All part of the package, Doren added.


Could you guys at least point us toward home? Seth asked.


The satyrs stopped retreating. Doren extended an arm.


There's a path over there.


When you reach it, go right, Newel said.


That will get you started in the right direction.


Give our best to Stan when he turns up.


The satyrs hastily turned and dashed off into the trees.


Chapter Twelve Inside the Barn Kendra and Seth located the path just as the satyrs had instructed, and soon reencountered the nickel-sized holes that served as a perfect trail of breadcrumbs toward home. Those goat guys were idiots, Seth said.


They did save us from the ogress, Kendra reminded him.


They could have helped us rescue Grandpa but they blew us off. He wore a scowl as they continued along the path.


As they neared the yard, they heard the inhuman groan again, the same sound they had heard while exiting the basement, only louder than ever. They halted. The perplexing sound was coming from up ahead. A long, plaintive moan, comparable to a blast from a foghorn.


Seth dug some of the remaining salt out of a pocket and rushed ahead. With their quickened pace, they were soon back at the edge of the yard. Everything appeared normal.


They saw no hulking behemoth capable of the enormous sound they had heard.


You know, that salt didn't do much to the satyr, Kendra whispered.


It probably only burns the bad creatures, he replied.


I think the ogre lady picked some up.


It was all mixed in the dirt by then. You saw it torch those guys last night.


They waited, hesitant to enter the yard. Now what?


Kendra asked.


The mighty groan resounded across the yard, nearer and louder. The shingles on the barn rattled.


It's coming from the barn, Seth said.


We never looked there! Kendra said.


I didn't think about it.


The monstrous groan blared a third time. The barn shuddered. Birds flew up from the eaves.


You think something took Grandpa and Lena to the barn? Kendra said.


Sounds like it's still there.


Grandpa told us never to enter the barn.


I think I'm already grounded, Seth said.


No, I mean what if he keeps ferocious creatures in there? It might have nothing to do with his disappearance.


It's our best chance. Where else are we going to look?


We have no other clues. The tracks were a dead end. At least we should try to get a peek inside.


Seth started for the barn, with Kendra following reluctantly behind. The towering structure rose a good five stories tall, topped by a weather vane in the shape of a bull.


Kendra had never studied it for entrances until now. She noted the obvious set of large double doors in the front, along with some smaller access doors along the side.


The barn creaked and then started shaking as if there were an earthquake. The sound of timbers splitting filled the air, followed by another mournful moan.


Seth glanced back at Kendra. Something huge was in there. A few moments later the barn grew still.


Chains and a heavy padlock bound the double doors in front, so Seth moved along the side of the building, quietly trying the smaller doors. All were locked. The barn had several windows, but the lowest were three stories off the ground.


They stealthily circled the entire building, finding no doors unlocked. There weren't even any cracks or peepholes.


Grandpa sealed this place up tight, Kendra whispered.


We may have to make some noise to get inside, Seth said. He started circling the building again.


I'm not sure that would be smart.


I'll wait until the barn starts shaking again. Seth sat down in front of a small door, little more than three feet high. Minutes passed.


Think it knows we're waiting? Kendra asked.


You're just bad luck.


Stop saying that.


A fairy glided over near them. Seth tried to shoo it away. Get out of here. The fairy effortlessly dodged his shooing motions. The more vigorously he waved her away, the closer she came.


Stop it, you're just egging her on, Kendra said.


I'm sick of fairies.


Then ignore her and maybe she'll leave.


He stopped paying attention to the fairy. She came up right behind his head. When the proximity earned no reaction, the fairy landed on his head. Seth slapped at her, missing as she wove around his intended blows. Just when he jumped to his feet to chase her, the booming groan came again. The little door trembled.


Seth plopped back down and started ramming the door with both feet. The moaning muffled most of the impact's noise. On the fifth kick, the edge of the little door split and swung open.


Seth rolled away from the opening, and Kendra stepped aside as well. Digging in his pockets, Seth withdrew the remnants of his salt. Want some? he mouthed.


Kendra accepted some salt. A second or two later, the deafening moaning ceased. Seth gestured for Kendra to wait. He crept through the small door. Kendra waited, squeezing the salt in her palm.


Seth reappeared in the opening wearing an inscrutable expression. You have to see this, he said.


What?


Don't worry. Come look.


Kendra ducked through the little doorway. The enormous barn contained just one cavernous room with a few closets around the perimeter. The entire room was dominated by a single gigantic cow.


Not what I expected, Kendra murmured in disbelief.


She gawked at the colossal bovine in amazement. The huge head was up near the rafters, forty or fifty feet in the air. A hayloft spanning an entire side of the building served as a feedbox. The cow's hooves were the size of hot tubs.


The tremendous udder was absolutely bulging. Milk beaded and dripped from teats almost the size of punching bags.


The gargantuan cow cocked its head, staring down at the newcomers to the barn. It let out a long moo, making the barn shake simply by shifting its stance.


Holy cow, Kendra muttered.


You can say that again. I doubt Grandpa will be running out of milk anytime soon.


We're friends, Kendra called up to the cow. The cow tossed its head and began munching from the hayloft.

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