by Dan Poblocki
“We’ll find a way,” said Poppy, nodding. “Dylan is just like all the other puzzles in this house. There has to be a solution. I’m sure of it.”
Marcus followed a few steps behind Azumi and her sister, watching them hold hands. He thought of his own sister back in Ohio. He hoped he’d see her again soon. He wanted to race through the front door of their small house and hug his brothers. He wanted to apologize to his mother—for what, he wasn’t really sure. For leaving. For reminding her of his uncle Shane. For not telling her about the music that had continued to run through his brain even after he’d promised her it had gone away. But especially, for being the worst of this group—the five who’d been called to this vile place.
He thought of his cello—his soul, his voice—lying in the foyer where everyone had dropped their luggage. I should have gone back for it, he told himself. I could have tried to play some of Uncle Shane’s music and protected us all. Maybe Esme wouldn’t have been able to trick us. To trick me.
He stared at Azumi’s back, her shorn hair brushing her neck. Shame burned in his gut for not having seen the truth. He’d been trying to beat Cyrus at his own game, but he’d placed his bet on the wrong girl. How could she have helped him when he’d fallen? How could she stand to be near him? How could any of them?
Marcus choked down a sense of nausea and kept walking, watching for roots and rocks that might reach up from the ground and try to trip him. To comfort himself, he hummed his uncle’s melody softly for the first time in hours.
Little by little, the landscape changed. The ground grew flat. The trees spread out. The putrid breeze let up and then went away completely. Soon, the group found that they were walking on brick pavers. On either side of the path there were manicured flowers and little trimmed trees and hedges. Silver starlight frosted the edges of everything.
Azumi looked up and realized that they were strolling through the garden just outside the walls of Larkspur. Behind her, the glass walls of the greenhouse rose up several stories. And overhead was the night sky, sharp and clear and filled with a beauty that shocked her. She turned to Moriko, her mouth open in surprise. “You did it! You got us out!”
The others rushed up the path behind them. Poppy nearly knocked Moriko over with a hug. Marcus tapped Azumi’s foot and smiled. Amazingly, she found herself smiling back. Dash turned and stared at the house and the tower that seemed to loom over them, as if trying to catch a glimpse of his brother up on the roof.
Moriko waved for everyone to follow her. “Let’s go,” she said, stepping off the path into the tall grass of the meadow. “We’re still not entirely safe.”
A voice called out from behind them, clear as an alarm bell. “No, you most certainly are not.” And then Cyrus emerged from the shadows.
“GET BEHIND ME!” Moriko shouted. “Quickly!”
But Cyrus held up his arms and yelled out, “N-nobody move! Not if you w-wish to live!”
The group froze, uncertain what to do. Poppy felt a strange pull in her stomach toward him, and she immediately wanted to slap herself for it. Here he was, blocking their path. Of course he’d never let them go. How could she have allowed herself to believe that he’d had a single ounce of goodness inside him? He was a liar, a monster.
In one hand, Cyrus was holding an object that glinted in the starlight. Poppy recognized it. It was the glass vial that had dropped to the floor when Esme’s costume had turned to dust. He must have picked it up. Cloudy liquid sloshed around inside it.
Moriko seemed to shrink back at the sight of it. “What are you going to do with that?” she asked him. Cyrus moved his thumb and the cork popped off the top of the vial. “Stop it!” Moriko cried out. “Leave us alone!”
“What is that?” Azumi asked her sister. “What’s he holding?”
Marcus stepped forward, shaking with anger. “It’s something you don’t want to touch.” Azumi reached out and tried to pull him back, but his jacket slipped through her fingers.
“I told you to t-trust me.” Cyrus shook his head. “I wanted to help you. But you’ve ended up in the clutches of this … this thing!”
“Don’t you call her that,” Azumi shouted, jaw quivering. “She’s my sister!”
“That is not your s-sister.” Cyrus raised the vial over his head. “That is the monster that makes this place what it is. That is the creature that builds the illusions you see all around us. That is the entity that locked me in the tower. That is the animal that crept inside my head and twisted my thoughts and made me believe that the only way to save the children in my care was to lock the doors and light a flame. Poppy, that is the monster that has long stalked our family. The thing that caused your poor mother to leave you. She thought she could keep you safe.”
“My mother? What are you talking about?” Poppy cried out.
“It is the thing that feeds on your fear,” he went on. “It is what controls the Specials … and all the ghosts of this estate. It used to control me too! It is the house and the land and the air and the spray off of the river. It is L-Larkspur itself.”
“He’s lying!” cried Moriko. “Don’t let him twist you any further. What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense!”
“You have followed it to the edge of your doom,” said Cyrus, speaking over her. “But I can still help you. You gave me my journal back, and it’s made me stronger than I’ve been in decades. I can help you undo all the horrible things it has done. You’ve solved so many of its puzzles, Poppy. You can solve the rest. You can free the rest—”
“No more puzzles!” cried Marcus, putting himself directly between Cyrus and Moriko, who was backing slowly into the meadow with Azumi. “There’s something seriously wrong with you!”
“No, there’s not,” said Cyrus, taking another step toward the group. “N-not anymore. Now I can see. I can recognize the disguises of the Beast. It’s easy, actually. Azumi, haven’t you n-noticed its eyes? Since when did your sister have golden irises?”
The group turned to look. When Moriko blinked, her eyes glinted gold even in the dim light. She shook her head. “Don’t listen,” she said, glancing at each of them. “He’ll turn you against one another. It’s another trap. I am your path out of here.”
“But what about her eyes, Azumi?” asked Poppy. “Is Cyrus right?”
“They’re brown,” answered Azumi, staring at Moriko, not wanting to believe. “At least … they used to be.”
“You don’t understand,” said Moriko, speaking quickly. “This isn’t my real body, Azumi. It’s my spirit. Things change afterward. Now, please. Stop listening to him. We’ve got to run!”
She turned, tugging Azumi’s arm, but Marcus stepped toward Cyrus, reaching into his pocket. “No. I’m tired of games. I’m tired of trying to figure out who’s on which side.” He held up his hand, clutching the other vial with larkspur poison inside that he and Esme had stolen from the tower. “Before she went away, Esme told us not to trust anyone. Not even ourselves.”
“Marcus,” said Cyrus, “you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Marcus twisted the cork away and tossed it into the grass.
“Wait!” said Poppy. “What if Cyrus is right?”
But Marcus whipped the vial forward anyway, splashing the liquid into the old man’s face.
CYRUS’S SHRIEKS PIERCED the night. He threw his hands to his face and then dropped to the ground, crying in agony. Hissing smoke rose up from his body in the grass.
“What did you do?” shouted Poppy.
“I saved us!” said Marcus. Turning to Azumi and Moriko, he added, “Come on! Let’s go!”
The sisters started to run down the slight slope, toward the dark line of trees ahead. Marcus, Dash, and Poppy followed a short distance behind them. The trees seemed to rise up as they got closer. The wind howled through the branches deep in the woods, making them sway and dance in the dark.
Ahead, Azumi and Moriko paused at the edge of the forest, waiting for the others to catch up. “Hold on, we c
an’t go in there,” said Dash, limping behind them. “We’ll get lost.”
“We have to find the driveway,” Poppy agreed. “It’s the only way back to the gate.”
“What we need to do is get out of the open,” said Moriko, glancing back up the hill. The house stood like a Gothic fortress, glaring down at them. “Cyrus could be coming for us right now.”
“But we’re not going to just follow you into the woods!” said Dash. “Not after—”
“You still don’t believe her?” Azumi asked, incredulous. “She got us out of Larkspur! That’s more than we can say for good old Cyrus. Marcus was right. That blue goop stopped the old man in his tracks.”
“But what if Cyrus was right?” Poppy insisted, her soft voice raised to a shriek. “He knew things about my family. About my mother! I want to know more!”
Moriko sighed. “Poppy … ”
Marcus couldn’t listen anymore. Too many games. Too many sides. His head felt fuzzy, and it was impossible to focus. He hadn’t felt clear since he’d sat down to play with his uncle Shane, back in the music room.
He closed his eyes and began to hum, just a couple of bars of the music he’d heard when he first arrived at Larkspur, before all the games and horror had started.
“Don’t,” said Moriko.
Everyone turned toward her. The night grew very quiet.
“What’s wrong?” asked Azumi, her voice suddenly small.
Marcus heard the soft melody again, just a whisper of it on the wind, and for a moment he felt warm, like Uncle Shane was reaching out to protect him one more time. He pursed his lips, whistling the tune, and the music seemed to bounce around the group, heading up the hill and down into the woods.
Moriko grabbed her stomach and then hunched over, tossing her blue hair over her face. “I-it hurts!” she stammered. “Please! Stop!”
Marcus broke off for a moment, watching her struggle and squirm, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop humming his uncle’s tune.
“Marcus,” said Azumi, worry rising in her voice, “maybe this isn’t a good idea—”
Moriko released a shrieking, gurgling sort of howl, as if a thousand predators were crying out in anger and pain.
Marcus choked and lost the melody.
The group stepped even farther away from Moriko, and she whipped her head up. Her appearance had changed. Her skin was swelling, her face growing puffy and purple as if filling with fluid, and soon her eyes’ golden glow winked out. She shook as if she were in agony, unable to express it aloud through her inflamed lips, which were now splitting, the skin cracking open, torrents of blue liquid dripping down her chin and neck.
“Moriko!” Azumi cried out, reaching toward her trembling sister. “What’s happening to you?”
“Azumi, stay back!” said Dash.
“Marcus, don’t stop,” Poppy whispered.
Moriko shuddered, wrenching her spine backward at an impossible angle, and growing taller. Her bruised, stretched skin broke and then sloughed to the ground. A wet puddle in the grass.
Too frightened to move, or even scream, Poppy, Dash, and Azumi clung to one another as the Beast rose to its full height. They craned their necks to stare in awe at a body that appeared to be made of millions of bones and branches tied together with blackened sinew and trapped within a dark, gauzy skin.
Squeezing his eyes closed, Marcus only hummed louder.
Poppy cried out, “Marcus, stop! You’re making it mad!”
Marcus opened his eyes, and what he saw standing at the edge of the forest stole his voice from his chest. His mouth dropped open and his tongue clicked quietly.
“You guys, you have to run!” he finally gasped. “I think I can hold it off.”
“What about—” Poppy started, but Marcus called over her.
“My uncle will protect me!”
Poppy looked at the creature, even as Dash tugged her arm. Two golden flames were alight deep inside a long, equine skull, glaring down at them with fury. A heavy jaw seemed to unlatch, widening as the thing let out a deafening roar. Hundreds of long, skinny teeth protruded, threatening to tear open the casing of its own face.
“Do what Cyrus said! RUN!” Marcus shoved Poppy toward Azumi, then started humming even louder, turning to face the shadow creature. Dash and Azumi dragged Poppy away fast as they could.
Dash felt numb, unable to even feel his legs carrying him through the grass. He turned, and faster than he could see, the Beast swung out a long skinny arm, sending Marcus flying toward the line of trees. A disturbing crunch rang out as he hit a thick trunk before dropping to the ground several feet below. Poppy and Azumi whipped around.
“No!!” Azumi shrieked.
But the Beast stalked slowly toward the small, dark shape that was Marcus, a monstrous cat playing with its prey.
“GO!” Poppy choked out, and they turned and fled.
It felt as though someone had taken a blunt soup spoon and scooped out Azumi’s insides. Her lungs didn’t want to work anymore. It felt like the air was too heavy to pull in. Blips of thought passed through her head, but she seemed unable to capture any of it.
Marcus?
Psychic … break … ?
Shadow … Beast … ?
Moriko?
Where … am … I?
Then, in the distance, there came another ground-shaking roar. Poppy and Dash pushed faster, but Azumi collapsed, unable to continue. She clasped her thighs against her chest.
“Come on, Azumi!” cried Dash, going back and pulling at her arm, leading her into the brush at the edge of the woods. “We’ve got to hide.” When she wouldn’t move, Poppy helped Dash carry her out of the meadow. Soon, they all ducked into the thick bushes in the darkness.
You’re still at Larkspur, said a voice in her head. It sounded like Moriko. The real Moriko—as if she were actually there with her. You need to leave. Listen to what the man said: You have to set them free! This wasn’t really happening, was it? It had to be a dream. Sleepwalking again. The world all around her felt so unreal. Then Dash brushed against her arm and she began to sense other things—the warm night breeze, the grass tickling her calves, the tightness of her face where her tears were beginning to dry—detailed and tactile moments that she never experienced while dreaming.
Through the branches, they could make out the large silhouette of the creature, hovering around the spot where Marcus had fallen. Suddenly, as if it caught a whiff of something off in the woods, it turned and shuffled into the brush, crunching saplings and stomping fallen branches as it pursued its new target.
Azumi cried out.
Dash grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. “Azumi, we have to be quiet. That thing is still listening.”
“We’ve got to go to him,” said Poppy. “He’s probably hurt really bad.”
Slowly, they edged back toward the place where Marcus was lying on his side, his legs bent backward, his arms stretched over his head. His face was tilted down, and none of them could see if his eyes were open or closed.
Poppy knelt and then hitched a breath. “I-I think … I think he’s gone.”
Dash crossed his arms and stepped away before turning to face the house. He shook his head slightly, as if he’d already known the truth, and it was finally sinking in.
“It’s my fault,” Azumi whispered. Marcus had hurt her. He’d betrayed her. But he didn’t deserve this. Nobody did. “I didn’t know—”
“It’s nobody’s fault,” said Poppy, grabbing Azumi, enclosing her in her arms.
“You don’t understand,” said Azumi, her voice muffled in Poppy’s T-shirt. “If I hadn’t trusted her … I thought she was my sister. I needed her to be my sister.”
“It’s nobody’s fault,” Poppy repeated, her voice harder this time.
The girls fell silent as they hugged each other. Dash sat beside them, staring up at the night sky.
“We have to start moving,” he said finally, refusing to look at Marcus. A flurry of memories lit th
rough him. Dylan’s body was clear in his mind, lying on the floor of the dressing room and then on the floor in the tower room. Cyrus collapsing into the grass. Marcus flying through the air and landing, so still. Dash shook his head, straightening his spine. “We have to find the driveway and the path through the woods to the gate. We need to find the real way out.”
Poppy nodded. “That thing will come back. I know it.”
“Which way do we go?” asked Azumi, her teeth chattering.
Dash pointed toward the dark and sprawling mansion. His arm felt heavy. Lifeless. “The path’s on the other side of the hill. On the other side of the house.”
“There’s no way I’m going near that place,” said Azumi.
“Then we’ll go around,” said Poppy. “We’ll stay near the line of trees, but far enough from the shadows so that we can see what’s coming.”
“We’ll never be able to see what’s coming,” said Dash.
Azumi and Poppy glanced down at Marcus. “Should we try … should we take him with us?” asked Azumi.
Dash sniffed. “We can’t. We might not even make it by ourselves.”
“We’re going to make it,” said Poppy. “We’ve already gotten out of the house. It’s only a little bit farther now.”
“What about your brother, Dash?” asked Azumi. “You’re going to leave him here too?”
Dash’s spine slumped. Dizzy, he placed his palms over his eyes, scrubbing at them to hold in tears. “I don’t even know where to start looking,” he said. “I-I can’t go back into that building again. Not after what we just saw.”
“And if we do find him,” said Azumi, “how can we be sure it’s really him?”
“You’re both right,” Poppy whispered. “You have to save you, Dash. Dylan—the real Dylan—would have wanted that. Right?”
After a moment, Dash nodded. Slowly, he brought himself to his feet. “We have to leave him behind.” Reaching down, he helped the girls stand up too.
