by Dan Poblocki
And how could she ever leave the path when the path kept popping up underneath her feet?
A dozen yards ahead, the stone wall appeared. Yes! This was the spot where the driver had dropped her off early that morning—a lifetime ago. Only a few more steps and they’d all be free.
But then Azumi noticed Dash and Poppy slowing down. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Dash raised the lantern, and Azumi finally saw. The driveway led up to the wall itself. The gate was gone.
“We must have gone the wrong way,” said Azumi, glancing off into the shadows on either side of the trail.
“You know that’s not true,” said Dash, shivering. “There was one way in. And one way out. And it was right here, at the driveway. No wonder the house let us just keep walking. We can’t leave!”
“Says who?” Poppy asked, rubbing her neck. “Don’t tell me you’ve never climbed a wall before,” she teased with a small smile.
Dash’s lip quivered. “But Dylan …” He glanced over his shoulder, as if his brother might have somehow managed to follow him this far. “How can I leave him here?”
Poppy looked at Azumi for help.
“Come on, Dash,” said Azumi, walking toward the dead end, feeling very small at the front of the group. “We have to try. Who’s first?”
They decided to boost Dash, so he’d be able to help them climb up. Poppy and Azumi joined hands and bent down to form a step, then they counted to three and catapulted him upward. He caught some thick vines near the top of the wall, and with a few grunts, managed to pull himself up to the lip. Azumi watched, her hands squeezed into tight fists, as Dash scrambled, swinging one knee over the top. He sat for a second, staring out at what neither girl could see. “No!” he cried. “No! Please, no!”
THE WORLD TILTED, and Dash clutched at the stones beneath him. Overhead, the clouds were breaking up, starlight illuminating the area.
“What’s wrong?” Poppy called out, already reaching for handholds to climb up.
“What do you see?” asked Azumi.
Dash glanced down. How could he explain what he was looking at? Just below, where Hardscrabble Road should have been running parallel to the wall, there was only more driveway stretching forward into more forest. And from this height, Dash could see into the distance over the tops of the trees. Rising into the night sky was Larkspur’s tallest tower.
That was impossible! The house was behind them. He was certain of it.
But when he glanced back the way they’d come, he noticed the same view. The same tower, rising over the same trees.
It was like he was sitting on the edge of a giant double mirror—Larkspur ahead, Larkspur behind—and he was stuck between the two.
“I-I’m not sure,” he called to the girls. He couldn’t trust his eyes, and he didn’t wish to scare them more.
Poppy took the lantern from Azumi and handed it up to Dash to hold while they both climbed. After a short struggle, Poppy and Azumi sat beside him, their mouths agape.
“So then I’m not imagining this?” he asked. They shook their heads, speechless.
The only difference between the two houses was that the one on the hill ahead of them was lit up—all the windows shining, as if to say Come in—while the one behind them was dark. Dead.
Laughter echoed through the trees at their backs like a brief burst of wind. Dash could almost feel it run up his spine, cruel fingers scratching him. “You think this is funny?” he screamed at the night. “You won’t be laughing soon!”
“Shh, Dash!” whispered Azumi. “You’re going to make it mad.”
“I don’t care. It’s making me mad. You hear me?! MAD!” Dash screamed again, rage tearing into the night, waking birds from nearby branches.
“Be quiet, please!” Poppy pleaded.
Dash spun on her with such force he nearly fell off the wall. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
Poppy’s eyes went wide. Her lips parted as if she wanted to answer but was suddenly afraid.
“This is your fault!” he yelled, glaring at her. “All of this! Me and Azumi have been following you all day long. We trusted you. And you listened to what we had to say. But then you just … stopped. You’ve gotten us trapped over and over! The games tent. The mirror maze. The loft in the stable. The séance. We agreed that we need to stick together. But I guess you think that doesn’t apply to you.”
“I was only doing what I thought would help,” Poppy whispered.
“Help you,” Dash said. “And the people that you wanted to help. You’re obsessed with the Specials. You’ve got plans out the wazoo to make sure they get out of this horrible place, but where’s your plan for Dylan? Huh? How come you don’t care about him?”
“I do,” said Poppy. “But after everything we’ve seen Dylan do, I had to agree with you that leaving him was for the best. He attacked you, Dash!”
“You’re not hearing me.” Dash’s face grew grim. “I’m done,” he said calmly. “I’m not following you anymore.”
“You guys!” Azumi whimpered. “This is not a good idea. We need one another.”
“Tell that to Poppy,” he said.
Poppy’s eyes glistened in the starlight. Her face was a mask of shock.
“I’m not blindly trusting her instincts, especially when her instincts don’t include rescuing what’s important to the rest of us.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” asked Azumi.
Dash blinked. He felt hollow. “Save yourself.”
The wall shook, wavering back and forth as if it weren’t quite solid. Dash scrambled to hold on, but the stones seemed to shift away from his grip, and the lantern slipped from his hands. Glass shattered below. He tumbled forward, the ground rushing quickly to meet him. Stage combat lessons with Dylan blinked through his brain, and Dash remembered to roll into the fall. Still, the world spun as he hit the driveway with enough force to knock his breath away, the girls landing on either side of him.
Wham! Crunch!
Then, silence.
POPPY SAT UP slowly, surprised that her body didn’t hurt more. Dash’s phone was lying in the brush several feet away, its pale light illuminating the immediate surroundings, and the lantern was on its side, the glass cage cracked. Dash grabbed both.
The spot where they’d landed looked like the place where they’d climbed up. But they were on the other side of the wall now.
Poppy whispered as if to herself, “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Poppy together again.”
Dash’s eyes darted toward her. “This isn’t a joke.”
Poppy’s face flushed. “I’m not making a joke.”
Dash rose to his feet, shaking. “We have to go back.”
“What?” said Azumi. “Why?”
“There’s got to be a different way out.”
Poppy sighed. “Are you sure you’re not just scared for your brother?”
“Of course I’m scared for my brother! But I’m also worried that we’re going to be trapped here, like, forever!”
Azumi whimpered. “The creature is back there. Didn’t you hear it coming for us?”
As if in answer, a howl screamed out from the other side of the wall.
The three of them bolted farther up the driveway toward the new version of the house all aglow at the top of the hill. Dash paused and looked back the way they’d come.
Azumi went on, “I can’t look at that thing again, Dash.”
“There’s got to be something we can do,” said Poppy. “Here. On this side of the wall. What if we …” She was quiet for a moment. “What if we try and finish what we started? Free the last of the Specials? Matilda.”
“But this isn’t just about the Specials anymore,” said Dash. “This is about … the painter. Frederick Caldwell. We can do something about his pact.” He lowered his voice. “The deal that he made with the shadow creature. We destroy it. We end the pact, we end its power over us … over everything that’s trapped in thi
s place. That’s our escape.”
“The pact,” said Poppy. “Connie said her father wouldn’t let anyone into his studio. I bet you the pact is in there!”
“But that would mean we have to go into the house,” said Azumi. “I’d rather take my chances out here.”
“Those chances aren’t very good,” said Poppy. “Outside is just as dangerous as inside. Dash is right. To end this, we have to go back in. We have to find the studio.”
“No, we don’t,” said Dash.
Poppy’s mouth dropped open. “You have another idea?”
Dash nodded. “We burn it. We burn it all to the ground.”
“I think I like this idea,” said Azumi.
“It won’t matter where the studio is,” said Dash. “Frederick’s pact will go up in flames with the rest of Larkspur.”
“But fires haven’t stopped the house before,” said Poppy.
“I’m doing this,” Dash answered. “Someone else should get a say, right, Azumi?”
Azumi crossed her arms over her stomach and narrowed her eyes at the ground. She thought Dash might be right—burning the house was like getting off the path, right?—but there were no sides now. Save yourself, he’d said. Maybe they were just three strangers now, stuck together until they found a way out. Or until the house trapped them there for good.
COMING AROUND THE bend in the driveway, they saw lights in the distance—Larkspur House on the hill. With windows glowing, it appeared to be watching for its next battle.
Azumi wrung her hands. “It’s expecting us.”
“Of course it’s expecting us,” said Dash. “But is it expecting this?” He held up the lantern.
Poppy scoffed. “Maybe that’s what it wants.”
“You think it wants us to try and burn it down?” asked Azumi.
Poppy nodded, smiling sadly. “I think it wants us to try.”
“Great,” said Dash, swallowing down the last of the gritty taste that was coating his tongue. “I’m happy to give it what it wants.”
He turned to face the house, lifting his chin to show that its tricks hadn’t broken him. As if in answer, all the lights in the windows went out, leaving the trio suddenly exposed in the darkness of the meadow, the flame in Dash’s grip like a blip on a radar. He released a slow breath and then continued up the hill, Larkspur now a massive shadow with hundreds of black, glassy eyes reflecting starlight.
The three walked toward the closest corner of the house—a wooden wall covered in vines, purple flowers budding and straining toward the night sky.
“Well, here we are,” said Dash, holding up the lantern. “This is it.” He turned a latch in the lantern’s glass cage, opening a small door.
“Go ahead,” said Poppy flatly.
Who’s laughing now? Dash thought, reaching out and breaking off a long piece of the flowering vine. He held the stick into the flame and watched as its tip quickly caught fire. But when he brought the fire out of the lantern and held it toward the wooden slats on the side of the building, the night air seemed to pinch the light away. It fizzled with a hiss, smoke rising from the end of the stick.
Dash felt his cheeks flush. He tried again. And again the flame went out before he could get it within inches of Larkspur’s siding.
What’s wrong, little brother?
Dash flinched away from the wall. “Dylan?” he called out.
Azumi touched his shoulder. “Dylan’s not here, Dash,” she whispered gently.
You don’t really want to destroy Larkspur, do you? If you leave, I stay behind.
“Stop it,” Dash said, shaking his head. “You’re not real.”
Oh, I’m real, said Dylan’s voice. As real as you.
Dash could feel the girls staring at each other with concern. Ignoring them, he gripped the nozzle at the base of the lantern. He unscrewed the cap until it fell to the grass, and the dizzying smell of kerosene wafted out of the container, making his eyes water. He splashed the liquid out of the lantern and onto the creeping vines. “Let’s hope this works,” he said, lighting another twig and then holding it out. This time, the fire bloomed and spread quickly, chasing the flammable liquid up the wall.
Poppy gasped at the sudden heat and light. Azumi stepped back, wide-eyed with surprise.
Triumphant, Dash almost began to laugh. But he was suddenly overcome with memories. Dylan coming through the doorway of the dressing room. The bucket tumbling from the top of the door. The water drenching him. Dylan reaching for the sparking lamp.
You’re killing me all over again, said Dylan’s voice in his head. You hate me! You’ve always hated me!
“That’s not true!” Dash shouted, stepping back, taking in the blaze. “It was an accident! I never meant to—”
The fire began to diminish, smoke rising thick and white from the green vines and purple flowers, as if the house itself were putting it out.
“Nooo!” Dash wailed, clutching at his head.
“But it was working!” said Azumi.
Poppy spoke up. “Dash—”
He cut her off. “Don’t say a word. Please.”
The fire fizzled away. Enraged, Dash swung the lantern, its glow flickering wildly inside the glass cage, and then threw it as hard as he could at the house. The glass exploded, squirting flame and fuel in every direction. The girls leapt away, pulling Dash with them as they fell to the ground several feet from the new blaze.
Dash bit his lip. Hoping. Hoping. Then the fire went out again.
Dylan’s voice began to chuckle inside his head. Nice try … little brother.
“Shut up, Dylan! I’m trying to help you!”
The voice went silent. This hurt worse than the teasing.
“Dylan? I’m sorry. Are you here?”
“Dash, who are you talking to?” Poppy asked. “We’re the only ones here.”
“What do we do now?” asked Azumi.
“What I suggested,” said Poppy, her voice firm. “We need to go back into the house and find Frederick’s studio. His pact has got to be there.”
THEY LEFT THE mess of glass behind and started searching for an open door or window. But every entry they came to was sealed shut, the glass unbreakable. It was as if Larkspur knew what they were trying to do and wouldn’t allow them back inside. This only proved to Poppy that they were on the right track.
“Come on, Connie,” Poppy whispered as they strolled along the edge of the house. “Let us in.”
“Who are you talking to, Poppy?” asked Dash. “Maybe she’s not here anymore either.”
Poppy pressed her lips together, refusing to look at him. “Connie?” she yelled out. “Please!”
Frustrated, Dash slammed his foot against the foundation. Jumping back, he watched a pile of large stones spill onto the ground, crushing the tall grass right in front of him. The stones had left a wide hole in the foundation.
“What was that, Dash?” asked Azumi.
“I didn’t mean to.”
A stale stench wafted into Poppy’s face when she leaned down, and she coughed. It smelled like something gone rotten in a warm refrigerator. It smelled familiar.
“This was not the way in I was hoping for,” said Azumi.
Dash shook his head, glancing back down the hill, as if he were about to run.
Poppy shrugged, trying to shake off a cloud of panic. “What other choice do we have?”
“This is what the house wants,” said Dash, taking a step backward.
Poppy lowered her voice. “But it’s what we want too.” She crouched on her hands and knees and brought her face up to the opening. “How about some light, Dash?”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and shone the flashlight through the crevice. “What if the house just puts walls around us to keep us from finding the pact?” he asked.
There appeared to be a slight drop onto a bit of crumbled foundation inside the wall. And beyond that, a sea of impenetrable pitch.
“That won’t happen,” said Poppy. “Remember
what Cyrus wrote about hope and fear? How, when they’re intertwined, they make us feel alive? If you remove one, you can’t have the other.” Dash and Azumi stared at her, confused. “Well, if Larkspur is ‘alive,’ it’s gotta work the same way. If it locks us up within its walls, it eliminates its worry, its fear, that we’ll beat it. And without that, the house has no need to go on. It needs us—all of us—to play its game. Right up until the very end, when it thinks it’s finally the winner. And that’s when we’ll destroy its desire to hurt anyone ever again. No more hope … but no more fear either. We’ll turn this place into an empty shell, just like it’s tried to do to us. I promise.” Her eyes began to sting. “Dash, I won’t ask you to follow me again. But I really hope you choose to.” Before the tears could fall, Poppy slid her legs forward and climbed in.
After a few seconds, Azumi’s voice echoed behind her. “Everything all right?”
“So far,” said Poppy, turning back and raising a hand to help her friend through the gap. When Azumi took her palm, Poppy’s skin screamed out, reminding her of the cuts from the broken mirror. Poppy winced and held her hand to her chest until it stopped throbbing.
Dash grunted as he followed behind Azumi, shimmying onto the pile of broken foundation and bringing the light into the space. Poppy smiled at him, but he wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he held up his phone. Black brick walls, coated in dust, loomed like they wanted to squeeze them all together. A thin hallway stretched off into the distance. Large spiders skittered away from Dash’s light, searching for cracks to hide in. The dark dirt floor beyond the foundation looked well worn, as if people had walked this path over and over.
Azumi’s ankle twisted as the foundation gave way, and she fell into Poppy’s arms. Glancing down, she screamed. She hadn’t been standing on a rock or a brick, but a skull. A small, bleached human skull. The girls scurried farther into the narrow hallway while Dash stared at the pile of bones that was mixed in with the rubble.
