Fablehaven: The Complete Series (226 page)

Returning as he had come, Seth dropped into Hugo’s reaching grasp. “I got it. Now we can head for the manor.”

The golem exited the crumbling house through the back. Glaring firelight brightened the night, the entirety of the barn now blazing. Another portion of the structure collapsed, sending a whirlwind of sparks above the towering flames. Even from a distance, Seth could feel the heat of the inferno.

As the golem started across the yard, a pair of figures emerged from the woods.

“Seth?” cried Doren.

“Seth!” shouted Newel.

The satyrs gamboled toward them across the lawn. Hugo slowed.

“You’re all right!” Doren yelled. “I knew it!”

“What’s happening?” Newel exclaimed.

“Put me down, Hugo,” Seth said. The golem complied. “I escaped from the Society and healed Graulas.”

“You healed Graulas?” Newel yelled. “Did the Society amputate your brain?”

“I thought it would ease his suffering as he died,” Seth said. “Instead he stole the artifacts I had and went on a rampage. Coulter is dead. Graulas left not long ago. The Society now has all the artifacts to open Zzyzx.”

“And the treaty is down,” Doren added. “We felt the boundaries fall.”

“Right,” Seth confirmed.

“We came this way after we saw Viola crashing through the woods,” Newel said. “This is going to be pandemonium. Where’s Stan?”

“There’s nobody around.” Seth explained how the others had been captured when trying to rescue him.

“Quite a pickle,” Newel lamented, hands on his woolly hips.

“What happens now?” Seth asked. “Will the creatures leave Fablehaven?”

Newel and Doren exchanged a glance. “Many of the satyrs are fleeing toward Grunhold,” Doren said. “The domain of the centaurs will stand even with the treaty down. Of course, the centaurs will now be completely free to rove. Some creatures might depart. But most have their homes here now. It will be some time before many stray beyond the outer fence.”

“Without a caretaker to calm things, the centaurs will probably try to take charge,” Newel guessed. “They’ll offer safe harbor to other creatures in exchange for land. They’ve always been sore they weren’t running the place.”

“What about the dark creatures?” Seth asked.

“Hard to say,” Doren said. “The demons of Fablehaven are bound or gone. The swamp hag gets older and battier every day. The dark creatures will lack leadership. The minotaurs could cause trouble if they decide to leave their territory, but I doubt the centaurs would allow it. Without a leader, the goblins, hobgoblins, and imps will probably lie low. The fog giants love their swamp. The few trolls will skulk and look for advantages in the upheaval. Many of the darkest creatures hibernate except for on festival nights. You’ll know better than anyone if the undead are on the move.”

“I don’t sense anything,” Seth said.

“That’s a relief,” Doren said.

“What about you guys?” Seth asked.

“We wanted to get a grasp of the situation,” Newel said.

“And now that you know . . . ?”

“It would be fun to catch a movie,” Newel mused. “Do you know any theaters that allow goats inside?”

“No theaters will let goats in,” Seth affirmed.

Newel frowned. “Maybe we could slip the ticket guy some of Viola’s milk.” He glanced at Doren. “We could wear boots and baggy pants.”

“Or you could help me try to save the world,” Seth said.

“You have a plan?” Doren asked.

“Best not to meddle in human affairs,” Newel interrupted, grabbing Doren by the elbow. “I just remembered, we have some women and children to evacuate.”

“The end of the world would mean an end to television,” Seth reminded them.

Newel froze. It took him a few seconds to recover. “We’d have reruns.”

“Not if people stopped running the TV stations,” Seth said solemnly. “Your portable TV would be useless, even with the digital converter. On the other hand, if you helped me, there would be nothing to stop me from getting you guys a gas generator.”

“A generator?” Newel said. “I’m listening.”

“You’d need a reliable, long-lasting power source for your new flat-screen television and DVD player.”

Newel licked his lips apprehensively. “What’s the plan?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Seth explained. “First I need to get to the old manor. Patton left a message for me there.”

Newel brightened. “So we get you to the manor, and you provide the gadgets?”

“I would need you guys to help me until this crisis is over,” Seth said. “I’m not going to lie. It will be really dangerous.”

“We can handle danger,” Doren said stalwartly.

“Not so fast,” Newel blurted. “We reserve the right to abandon you to your fate at any moment.”

“In which case the deal would be off,” Seth clarified.

The last major portion of the barn collapsed, a fiery wave breaking on a blazing shore. Newel folded his arms. “A gas generator needs a supply of gasoline.”

“Two hundred gallons,” Seth promised.

Newel was unreadable. His eyes shifted to Doren, who nodded. Newel sniffed. He swallowed. Then he spat in his palm and extended a hand. Seth shook it. Newel grinned. “You just acquired a crack commando backup unit.”

“Who might abandon me at any time,” Seth said, wiping his palm on his pants.

“In which case you won’t have to spend your life savings on entertainment equipment,” Doren added.

Newel rubbed his hands together. “I’m glad we’ve reached an accord. You know, it might be refreshing to embark on an actual adventure again.”

“Adventures tend to be uncomfortable and deadly,” Doren reminded his friend.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Newel said. “I’ve developed a keen preference for vicarious thrills. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Doren punched Seth playfully on the arm. “It saddened us to think we might have lost you. It will be good to help a friend.”

“And to help yourselves,” Seth stressed. “The end of the world sort of affects everybody.”

“Hoping that these types of crises will somehow sort themselves out has served us well in the past,” Newel muttered.

“Valid point,” Doren seconded. He stared at Seth. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather find a place to hide and just see what happens?”

“I have to fix this,” Seth said. “It’s me or nobody. Sometimes I don’t get you guys. You talk as if you don’t have little adventures all the time!”

“
Little
is the operative word,” Newel said. “Nipsie-sized. It’s one thing to swipe a meal or filch some gold. That’s just sport. It’s easy to keep well within your limits. It’s quite another decision to get involved in an actual cause. Causes have a way of tainting your reason until a person takes much bigger risks than sanity would otherwise allow.”

“Which is why you reserved the right to bail,” Seth said.

“Exactly,” Newel said.

“Seth did save you from the influence of Ephira and Kurisock,” Doren reminded him.

“I know,” Newel snapped. “No need to dredge up the past. If I didn’t like the boy, I wouldn’t agree to this.”

“Sounds like you’re already investing in the cause,” Doren teased.

“Enough chitchat,” Newel spat, shaking a fist at Doren. He turned to Seth. “I assume the dirtman can get you to the manor without our help. If this fiasco could snowball into a real quest, we should collect some gear.”

“Not a bad idea,” Seth agreed.

“We’ll meet you at the manor,” Doren said, turning away.

“Don’t take it personally if we never show,” Newel called over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Hugo,” Seth said.

The golem lifted Seth and charged into the woods in a different direction from the satyrs. Seth wondered if Newel and Doren would return. If they showed up, should he really let them join him? He would love the company and the help, but hadn’t he gotten enough people killed?

In the darkness beneath the trees, there was little to see. Seth could hear Hugo crashing through the undergrowth, snapping limbs and flattening shrubs. Occasionally Hugo vaulted an obstacle or climbed a steep slope. At times his route veered around unseen obstructions. Although vegetation congested the way, the golem did an expert job of shielding Seth as they plunged through dense foliage.

At one point, Hugo paused and crouched. Perhaps a minute later, Seth heard hoofed creatures galloping through the undergrowth, crossing their path ahead of them.

“Probably best to avoid being seen,” Seth whispered after the sounds had faded.

“Yes,” Hugo replied, as softly as he could manage, before resuming his loping gait through the trees.

At length they reached the edge of the yard that surrounded the pillared manor. The stately building looked dark beneath the stars.

“Let’s get this over with,” Seth whispered, rummaging in his emergency kit for a flashlight.

“Wait,” Hugo cautioned. “Troll inside. Looting. Two goblin guards.”

“Can you take out the goblins?”

Hugo shook and let out an irregular exhalation. Seth realized he was laughing.

Seth patted Hugo’s stony shoulder. “Let’s get them.”

With Seth cradled in one arm, the golem charged out into the yard. As they drew near to the manor’s porch, one of the goblins called out, “Who goes there?”

Hugo didn’t slow. He set Seth down before the porch steps and cleared them with a single leap. Seth glimpsed one goblin lunging with a spear. Hugo batted the weapon aside, seized the goblin by the ankles, and used him to swat the other guard. Armor clanged as they connected, and the second goblin went tumbling loudly along the porch. Still clutching the first goblin by the ankles, Hugo hurled him sidearm across the yard. The creature skimmed the grass for an incredible distance before skipping and rolling to a stop. Both goblins stumbled away at full speed, leaving their dropped weapons behind.

“Good job, Hugo,” Seth said, coming up the steps.

With that same irregular exhalation, Hugo pantomimed how the goblin had bounced and spun across the yard. Seth found himself laughing as well.

“What’s going on?” hissed a voice from inside the manor.

“Intruder!” Seth called in a commanding voice. “Cease your activities and come out this instant!”

A moment later, Nero appeared in the doorway, glaring until he saw Hugo. His eyes then fell on Seth. “Good evening to you,” the troll said in his deep, silky voice.

Seth switched on his flashlight. The troll had a reptilian look about him, his glossy black scales highlighted by yellow markings. The nostrils of his snout flared, and his cunning eyes narrowed. His formidable muscles bunched as he coiled into a tense crouch.

“Why are you looting the manor?” Seth asked.

“Go ask your mentor,” the troll replied, his tone reasonable despite his edgy posture. “Graulas ended the treaty. You can’t blame an old trader for seizing an obvious opportunity.”

“Graulas left me in charge,” Seth said, inventing as he went. “He had to undo the treaty in order to leave Fablehaven. But he’ll be back. And he wants the manor as his residence.”

Baring rows of needle teeth, Nero glared at Seth suspiciously. “You openly serve him?”

Seth displayed no uncertainty. “My family abandoned Fablehaven. I stayed behind. I have much to learn. Graulas sent me to make sure his future home remained secure.”

Nero became fidgety. “I had no way of knowing . . .”

“I don’t blame you,” Seth said. “You’ve helped me in the past. Help both of us tonight. Spread the word that nothing in or around the manor is to be touched. Same with the main house at Fablehaven, especially the dungeon. Graulas knows every item in both houses, and he will show no mercy to any who claim his prizes.”

“Knew it was too good to be true,” Nero mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Seth asked, a hint of warning in his voice.

“It will be as you say, young master Sorenson,” the troll answered obsequiously, inclining his head. “Naturally, for your sake, these words had best be proven faithful when Graulas returns.”

“Was that a threat?” Seth bristled. If he was going to bluff like this, he needed to play the role convincingly. “Maybe a conversation with a shade would relieve your doubts.”

Raising his webbed hands, the cliff troll finally looked truly intimidated. “No need for unpleasantness.”

“You’re the one causing unpleasantness,” Seth snapped. “I was going easy on you. I guess you vermin only speak one language. Hugo, let’s see if trolls can fly as far as goblins.”

The golem grasped Nero by his torso, turned, and flung him out into the yard like a football. Seth used the flashlight to follow the trajectory of the troll as he soared in a long arc. The cliff troll righted himself in the air, spreading his arms and legs like a flying squirrel. Extendable fins fanned out to help him glide. When he landed over fifty yards away, Nero rolled adroitly and ended up on his feet.