[Fablehaven 02] - Rise of the Evening Star

by Brandon Mull - (ebook by Undead)

  Seth turned the bar over and over in his hands. It was about the size of a bar of hotel soap. An “N” was embossed on one side. Otherwise it was a plain, golden rectangle, a little heavier than it looked. Probably enough gold to be worth a lot of money.

  “This is more like it,” Seth said happily, placing the gold inside his emergency kit. “What does the ‘N’ stand for?”

  Newel scratched his head. “Nothing.”

  “Right,” Doren said hastily. “Stands for ‘nothing’.”

  “Nothing?” Seth said dubiously. “Why would somebody write an ‘N’ for ‘nothing’? Why not just leave it blank?”

  “Newel,” Doren tried. “It stands for Newel.”

  “Used to be my favorite belt buckle,” Newel added wistfully.

  “You wore pants?” Seth asked.

  “Long story,” Newel explained. “Let’s not dwell on the past. Fact is, there are more — um — belt buckles where that came from, all pure gold. You bring us more batteries, we’ll keep trading with you.”

  “Works for me,” Seth said.

  “This could be the beginning of a spectacular partnership,” Newel said.

  Doren raised a cautionary hand, halting the conversation. “You hear that?”

  The three of them paused, listening. “Something’s coming,” Newel said, eyebrows knitting together. No matter how the satyrs behaved, they usually had an air about them that everything they said was tongue-in-cheek. That air was gone.

  They kept listening. Seth heard nothing. “Are you guys fooling with me?” he asked.

  Newel shook his head, holding up a finger. “I can’t place it. You?”

  Doren was sniffing the air. “Can’t be.”

  “You better scram, Seth,” Newel said. “Get back to the yard.”

  “With the gold, right?” Seth suspected they might be trying to trick him out of his reward.

  “Of course, but you better hur—”

  “Too late,” Doren warned.

  A creature the size of a pony burst out of the bushes onto the tennis court. Seth recognized it immediately. “Olloch?”

  “Olloch the Glutton?” Newel asked Seth.

  “I thought it smelled like a demon,” Doren groaned.

  “Yeah,” Seth said. “He bit me.”

  Grotesquely toadlike, Olloch reared back and opened his mouth. It looked like the demon had swallowed a squid, so many flailing tongues emerged. Sitting upright, Olloch was nearly as tall as Seth. After a triumphant roar, the demon lowered his head and charged, advancing in a jerky, scrambling crawl.

  Newel grabbed Seth’s hand and hauled him away from the demon. “Run!” Newel yelled.

  “For television!” Doren cried, brandishing his tennis racket and holding his ground. Olloch pounced at the satyr, but Doren lunged aside, swatting away a pair of tongues with the racket. Several more tongues lashed out, wrenching the racket from Doren’s grasp. The tongues pulled the racket into a gaping mouth, and moments later expelled it with the strings missing and a crack in the frame.

  Seth had reached the bushes at the edge of the court when Olloch, ignoring Doren, took a huge leap toward him and then charged with frightening speed. Seth knew he wouldn’t make it back to the path, let alone to the yard. His mind raced, trying to think if there was anything useful in his emergency kit.

  Tongues writhing, the demon sprang. “For batteries!” Newel cried, intercepting the glutton in midair and wrapping both arms around its middle.

  “To the shed!” Doren called, retrieving his unstrung racket and running toward the demon.

  Seth turned and dashed toward the shed. Growling and slobbering, Olloch squirmed free from Newel and raced after Seth, staying low and gaining quickly. Over his shoulder, Seth glimpsed the demon drawing near, rapidly closing the space between them despite moving with such a choppy gait. The shed was still several steps away.

  Jumping into the demon’s path, Doren raised his damaged racket. A multitude of tongues snaked around the satyr and slung him aside. Doren’s efforts barely slowed Olloch, but bought Seth just enough time to lunge into the shed and slam the door. The demon crunched against the door an instant later. Some of the whitewashed planks split, but they held. The demon crashed against the shed again, rattling the small structure.

  “Hang on, Seth,” Doren yelled. “Help is coming.”

  Seth searched for a weapon. The best he could find was a hoe. The door shattered open and Olloch entered, snarling, wet tongues thrashing. Behind the slavering demon, Seth saw Hugo bounding across the tennis court. Grasping tongues stretched toward Seth, and he swung the hoe viciously. A tongue adroitly coiled around the hoe, ripping it from Seth’s grasp. And then Hugo arrived.

  The golem grasped the demon from behind with one hand and hurled it away from the shed. Olloch landed, rolled, and came charging back toward Seth, who now stood in the empty doorway alongside Hugo. The golem stepped forward, blocking access to Seth.

  Dripping tongues whipped toward Hugo. The golem grabbed several tongues, yanked the demon into the air, and began spinning Olloch above his head. The tongues elongated as the golem whirled the glutton faster and faster, finally releasing him, sending Olloch sailing away over the treetops.

  Doren whistled, clearly impressed.

  “He’ll be back straightaway,” Newel said. He had grass stains on his chest and arms.

  “You should hurry to the yard,” Doren agreed.

  “We better get some free batteries out of this,” Newel said, brushing himself off.

  “And a new racket,” Doren added.

  “We’ll talk about it,” Seth said, clutching his emergency kit with the gold inside. Hugo unceremoniously lifted Seth and started running, leaving him no opportunity to say or hear another word. Seth could not believe how fast the golem raced through the trees, massive strides eating up ground. Ignoring trails, Hugo bulldozed his own path through undergrowth and tangled limbs.

  Before long, they were back in the yard. Grandma stood there, fists on her hips, along with Coulter, Vanessa, and Kendra. Hugo gently set Seth on his feet in front of Grandma.

  “Are you all right?” Grandma asked, grabbing his shoulders and checking him for injuries.

  “Thanks to Hugo.”

  “You’re lucky Hugo was in the yard,” Grandma said. “We heard something roaring in the woods and found you missing. What were you doing in the woods?”

  “I was playing tennis with the satyrs,” Seth said. “Olloch found me.”

  “Olloch!” she cried. The others looked shocked as well.

  “How could he have gotten onto the preserve?” Coulter asked.

  “Are you sure it was Olloch?” Grandma asked.

  “I recognized him,” Seth said. “He’s a lot bigger. He has a bunch of tongues. He went right for me, didn’t hardly care about the satyrs.”

  They heard something rustling in the woods and turned to face whatever was approaching. Olloch scrambled up to the edge of the yard before stopping. The demon reared up, tongues waving like meaty banners, and let out a mournful bellow. He lunged forward but could not step onto the grass.

  “He can’t enter the yard,” Vanessa said.

  “Not yet,” Grandma agreed.

  “Then how did he get onto the preserve?” Coulter repeated.

  “I don’t know, but we better get to the bottom of it quickly,” Grandma said.

  “Can Hugo kill it?” Kendra asked.

  “Not likely,” Grandma said. “In fact, I expect even at this size, if Olloch put his mind to it, he could devour Hugo piece by piece.”

  Olloch was shaking his head, wagging his tongues, and pawing the ground, obviously furious at having his prey so near yet utterly unreachable. “Now, there’s an unusual sight,” Coulter murmured.

  “Incredible,” Vanessa said.

  “What do we do?” Seth asked.

  “For starters,” Grandma said crossly, “you are officially grounded.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Bet
rayal

  Kendra sat on the love seat beside Seth, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and her chin on her hand. Ever since Hugo had rescued Seth earlier in the day, an uncomfortable new tension had filled the house. Grandpa had been poring over books and making phone calls. Vanessa and Coulter came and went several times, often accompanied by Hugo. There were many hushed conversations behind closed doors. Now it was getting late, but Grandma had informed everyone they had to meet about something that could not wait until morning. Which could not be a good sign.

  Kendra’s chief consolation was that she was not Seth. Wandering off into the woods without permission had almost gotten him killed. The thought of what had almost happened had terrified everyone, and he was getting an earful as a result. Undoubtedly he would hear plenty more about it in the impending meeting.

  Seated in a chair beside Seth, Tanu was showing him potions, explaining what they did and how he marked the bottles to distinguish them from each other. Only Tanu, who had returned not long ago from an all-day excursion, had refrained from reprimanding Seth. Instead, the Samoan seemed intent on distracting him from his misery.

  “This one is for an emergency,” Tanu was saying. “It’s an enlarger, doubles my height, makes me big enough to wrestle an ogre. The ingredients for enlargers are extremely hard to come by. I’ve only got one dose, and once I use it, I don’t expect to own another. Shrinking is easier. Each of these little vials carries a dose that makes me eight times shorter. I end up just under ten inches tall. Not so helpful in a brawl, but not bad for sneaking around.”

  Coulter and Vanessa sat on opposite ends of an antique sofa. Dale was perched on a stool he had brought in from another room. Grandma wheeled in Grandpa and took a seat in the last armchair.

  Grandpa cleared his throat. Tanu fell silent, returning his potions to his pouch. “Getting to the point, we probably have a traitor among us, so I thought we should talk this through.”

  Nobody spoke. Kendra made brief eye contact with Vanessa, then with Coulter, then with Tanu. “Ruth and I are fairly certain how Olloch got onto the property,” Grandpa continued. “Somebody signed him in on the register within the past two days. He probably waltzed right through the front gate. And he didn’t come alone.”

  “What’s the register?” Kendra asked.

  “The register is a book that controls access to Fablehaven,” Grandma said. “When you come to visit, we write your name in the register, and that action disarms on your behalf the spells guarding the gate. Unless they were signed in on the register, it would be effectively impossible for anyone to get past the fence.”

  “Somebody signed in Olloch?” Dale asked.

  “Between now and two evenings ago, the last time we checked the register, someone signed in Christopher Vogel and Guest,” Grandma said. “We blotted out the names, but the damage has been done. Christopher Vogel, whoever that is, came onto the property and turned Olloch loose.”

  “Therefore we must assume we have two enemies out there,” Grandpa said, motioning toward the window. “And one in here.”

  “Could somebody from outside have gotten to the register?” Dale asked.

  “The register was hidden in our room,” Grandma said. “Only Stan and I knew where it was. Or so we thought. Now we’ve moved it. But coming into the house unnoticed after we shut it down for the night is almost as difficult as getting through the gates. Let alone writing in the register right under our noses.”

  “Whoever wrote in the register is more than likely the same person who released the drumants,” Grandpa said. “Is it possible that somebody outside this room accessed our bedrooms twice? Yes. Probable? No.”

  “Can we trace the handwriting?” Coulter asked.

  Grandma shook her head. “They used a stencil. Apparently they weren’t in a rush.”

  “Perhaps all of us should leave,” Tanu suggested. “The evidence is too glaring to ignore. Kendra and Seth are above suspicion, as are Ruth and Stan. Maybe the rest of us should depart.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Grandpa said. “But now that we have two foes on the preserve, it is hardly a good time to send away our protectors, even if one is probably a traitor. At least until we can summon replacements. I am stuck in this chair, and the children are young and untrained. The situation is maddening. As I consider each of you individually, you seem above suspicion. Yet someone wrote in the register, and since you all appear equally innocent, you consequently appear equally guilty.”

  “I hope we find another explanation,” Grandma said. “For the moment, we must acknowledge the likelihood that one of us is a master deceiver working for our adversaries.”

  “It gets worse,” Grandpa said. “The phone lines are down again. We’ve been trying to summon aid via Vanessa’s cell phone, but our chief contact has not been answering. We will keep calling, but none of this bodes well.”

  “The other immediate problem is Olloch himself,” Grandma said. “As he gorges himself on whatever edible matter he can find, he will continue to gain both size and power. He quit trying to enter the yard hours ago, which means he realizes that if he gets big enough, he could gain sufficient power to overthrow the treaty, access the house, and claim his prize.”

  “Like how Bahumat almost overthrew the preserve last year,” Kendra said.

  “Yes,” Grandpa said. “Olloch could conceivably muster sufficient power to plunge Fablehaven into lawless chaos.”

  Kendra glanced at Seth, sitting silently. She had rarely seen him so quiet and contrite. It looked like he wanted to melt away into the love seat and vanish.

  “What can we do?” Tanu asked.

  “Olloch the Glutton will not stop until he has devoured and digested Seth,” Grandpa said. “Slaying Olloch is well beyond our power. We have an ally who suggested there might be a way to subdue the demon, but we have not been able to reach him. The glutton has already reached a size that will allow him to ingest just about whatever he chooses, and his appetite will not abate. We cannot sit idly by. Our peril is literally growing by the minute.”

  “We must assume our benefactor is on the move,” Grandma said. “He is a heavily desired target of the Society. We’ll keep trying to telephone him, and assume that he’ll make himself available as soon as he can. Otherwise, we’re just not sure how to find him. He moves too frequently.”

  “How long before Olloch becomes strong enough to countermand the treaty?” Vanessa asked.

  Grandpa shrugged. “With the kind of game he can find inside Fablehaven, magical and nonmagical, it is a worst-case scenario. He’ll grow much faster than he would out in the normal world. He must have had help getting to his current size, probably from that Christopher Vogel character. My best guess? A day, more likely two, maybe three. I can’t imagine it would take much longer.”

  “Maybe you should just feed me to him,” Seth said.

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” Grandma said.

  Seth stood up. “Wouldn’t it be better than letting Olloch destroy all of Fablehaven? Sounds like he’ll get me sooner or later. Why should I make him go through all of you first?”

  “We’ll find another way,” Coulter said. “We still have some time.”

  “He’ll have to eat me to get to you,” Dale said. “Whether you like it or not.”

  Seth sat down. Grandpa pointed at him. “Now is not the time to leap to rash solutions. We have not yet spoken with our most knowledgeable ally. Seth, I repeat, you are not culpable for awakening Olloch. You were tricked and are not to blame. You should not have been out in the woods alone — that was a most foolish error in judgment, the exact kind of nonsense I hoped you would have abandoned by now — but you are far from deserving a death sentence. Since the satyrs were involved, I take it you were trading for batteries? I haven’t asked, what did they give you?”

  Seth lowered his eyes. “Some gold.”

  “May I see it?”

  Seth went and retrieved his emergency kit. He pulled out the gold bar. Grandpa ex
amined it. “You do not want to be caught out in the open with this in your pocket,” he said.

  “Why?” Seth asked.

  Grandpa handed the bar back to Seth. “It was clearly stolen from Nero’s hoard. What did you suppose the ‘N’ stood for? He will be scrying for it in his seeing stone. In fact, the presence of the gold could grant him the power to see within the walls of our home. The satyrs must have only recently stolen it, or Nero would have already reclaimed it.”

  Seth placed a hand over his eyes and shook his head. “When will I do something right?” he moaned. “Should I go chuck it into the woods?”

  “No,” Grandpa said. “You should go set it on the porch, and we’ll return it to its rightful owner as soon as reasonably possible.”

  Nodding sheepishly, Seth exited the room. “We also have some encouraging news,” Grandpa said. “Coulter made an important breakthrough today. We may be close to uncovering the relic we have been seeking. The latest revelation harmonizes with the information we already possess. At this juncture, I believe there is more wisdom in sharing this information openly than in hiding it. No matter which of us is the traitor, the rest of us must continue functioning. Better we make our knowledge common than become paralyzed.”

  “Not that the traitor will be sharing secrets with us,” Vanessa said bitterly.

  “All the same, Coulter will disclose his discovery,” Grandpa said.

  “The fog giant Burlox reported that Warren was investigating the four hills area before he turned white,” Coulter said.

  “One of the main areas Patton mentioned suspiciously,” Vanessa said.

  “And the same area I investigated today,” Tanu said. “The grove on the north end of the valley is definitely cursed. I did not risk treading there.”

  Seth came back into the room and reclaimed his spot on the love seat.

  “Many areas of Fablehaven carry terrible curses and are protected by ghastly fiends,” Grandpa said. “The valley of the four hills is one of the most infamous. At the moment, the evidence seems to suggest a pair of related mysteries. We may very well find not only that the grove contains the relic we have been seeking, but also that it is guarded by whatever entity transformed Warren.”