Fablehaven I (24 page)

monster houses.

Let’s take a good look around the meadow, said Seth.

He made a complete search of the perimeter of the

meadow, finding neither holes nor trails.

Let’s face it, Kendra said. If we try to go any farther,

we’ll be wandering blind.

What about climbing that hill? Seth suggested, indicating

the highest point visible from the meadow, less than

a quarter-mile away. If I were going to make a home

around here, it would be over there. Plus, if we get up

there, we’ll have a better view of the area. These trees

make it hard to see.

Kendra pressed her lips together. The hill was not

steep; it would be easy to climb. And it was not too far

away. If we don’t find anything there, we go back?

Deal.

They marched toward the hill, which was along a different

line from the course they had originally taken from

the path. As they picked their way through denser underbrush,

a twig snapped off to one side. They paused,

listening.

I’m getting pretty nervous, Kendra said softly.

We’re fine. Probably just a falling pinecone.

Kendra tried to push away images of the pallid woman

with the swirling black garments. The thought of her made

Kendra freeze. If she saw her out in the woods, Kendra worried

she would just curl up in a ball on the ground and let

herself be taken.

I’m losing track of which way we’re going, she said.

Back under the trees, the line of sight to both hill and

meadow was disrupted.

I have my compass.

So if all else fails, we can find the North Pole.

The trail we followed went northwest, Seth assured

her. Then we left it going southwest. The hill is to the

west, the meadow is east.

That’s pretty good.

The only trick is paying attention.

Before long, the trees were thinning and they were

walking up the hill. With the trees farther apart, the underbrush

grew higher and the bushes bigger. Kendra and Seth

wound their way up the moderate slope toward the crest.

Do you smell that? Seth asked.

Kendra stopped. Like somebody cooking.

The smell was faint but, now that she noticed it, distinct.

Kendra studied the area with sudden alarm. Oh my

gosh, she said, crouching down.

What?

Get down.

Seth knelt beside her. Kendra pointed toward the crest

of the hill. Off to one side rose a feeble column of smoke ——

a thin, wavering distortion.

Yeah, he whispered. We may have found it.

Again she had to bite her tongue. She hoped someone

wasn’t cooking Grandpa. What do we do?

Stay here, said Seth. I’ll go check it out.

I don’t want to stay alone.

Then follow me, but stay back a bit. We don’t want to

both get caught at the same time. Keep salt ready.

Kendra did not need that reminder. Her only worry

about the salt was that her sweaty hands were going to turn

it to paste.

Seth crept ahead, staying low, using the bushes for

cover, gradually making his way toward the meager line of

smoke. Kendra imitated his movements, impressed that his

hours of playing army were finally paying off. Even as she

followed him, she struggled to come to terms with what

they were doing. Sneaking up on a monster cookout was

among the activities she could do without. Shouldn’t they

be sneaking
away?

The trembling shaft of smoke grew nearer. Seth waved

her up to him. She huddled beside him behind a wide bush

twice her height, trying to breathe quietly. He put his lips

to her ear. I’ll be able to see what’s going on when I get

around this bush. I’ll try to yell if I get captured or anything.

Be ready.

She put her mouth to his ear. If you play a trick on me,

I promise I will kill you, I really will.

I won’t. I’m scared too.

He slunk forward. Kendra tried to calm herself. Waiting

was torture. She considered moving around the bush to

take a peek, but could not muster the courage. The silence

was good, right? Unless they had stealthily dropped Seth

with a poison dart.

The pause stretched mercilessly. Then she heard Seth

coming back less carefully than he had left. When he came

around the bush, he was walking upright, saying, Come

here, you have to see this.

What is it?

Nothing scary.

She went around the bush with him, still tense. Up

ahead, in a clear area near the summit of the hill, she saw

the source of the thin smoke-a waist-high cylinder of

stone with a wooden windlass and a dangling bucket. A

well?

Yeah. Come smell.

They walked to the well. Even up close, the rising

smoke remained vapory and indistinct. Kendra leaned over,

staring down into the deep darkness. Smells good.

Like soup, Seth said. Meat, veggies, spices.

Am I just hungry? It smells delicious.

I think so too. Should we try some?

Lower the bucket? Kendra asked skeptically.

Why not? Seth replied.

There could be creatures down there.

I don’t think so, he said.

You think it’s just a well full of stew, Kendra scoffed.

We
are
on a magical preserve.

As far as we know it could be poisonous.

It can’t hurt to take a look, Seth insisted. I’m starving.

Besides, not everything here is bad. I bet this is where

fairy people come for dinner. See, it even has a crank. He

began turning the windlass, spooling the bucket down into

the darkness.

I’m staying on lookout, said Kendra.

Good idea.

Kendra felt exposed. They were far enough from the

summit that she could not see anything on the far side of

the hill, but they were high enough that she commanded

an expansive view of trees and terrain when she looked

down the slope. With little cover surrounding the well, she

worried that unseen eyes might be spying from the foliage

below.

Seth continued unwinding the rope, sending the

bucket ever deeper. Eventually he heard it wetly hit bottom.

The rope slackened a bit. After a moment he began

winding the bucket back up.

Hurry, Kendra said.

I am. This thing is deep.

I’m worried everything in the forest can see us.

Here it comes. He stopped cranking and pulled the

bucket up the last few feet by hand, setting it on the lip of

the well.

Kendra joined him. Inside the wooden bucket, bits of

meat, cut carrots, potato fragments, and onion floated in a

fragrant yellow broth. Looks like a normal stew, Kendra

said.

Better than normal. I’m trying some.

Don’t! she warned.

Lighten up. He tweezed out a piece of dripping meat

and tried it. Good! he announced. He plucked out a

potato and offered a similar report. Tipping the bucket, he

slurped some of the broth. Amazing! he said. You have

to try it.

From behind the same bush they had used as their final

hiding place when approaching the well, a creature

emerged. From the waist up, he was a shirtless man with an

exceptionally hairy chest and a pair of pointy horns above

his forehead. From waist down he had the legs of a shaggy

goat. Wielding a knife, the satyr charged straight at them.

Both Kendra and Seth turned in alarm at the sound of

his hooves racing up the slope. Salt, Seth blurted, dipping

into his pockets.

As she fumbled for salt, Kendra dashed around the well,

placing it between herself and the attacker. Not Seth. He

stood his ground, and when the satyr was a couple of steps

away, he flung a fistful of salt at the goatman.

The satyr stopped short, obviously surprised by the

cloud of salt. Seth threw a second handful, groping in his

pockets for more. The salt failed to spark or sizzle. Instead,

the satyr appeared bewildered.

What are you doing? he asked in a hushed tone.

I could ask you the same question, Seth replied.

No you can’t. You’re spoiling our operation. The satyr

lunged past Seth and slashed the rope with his knife. She’s

coming.

Who?

I’d save the questions for later, the satyr said. He

wound the rope until it was tight around the windlass,

seized the bucket, and started down the hill, spilling soup

as he went. From the far side of the hill, Kendra heard

foliage rustling and branches crunching. She and Seth followed

the satyr.

The satyr slid into the bush Kendra had crouched

behind earlier. Kendra and Seth dove in alongside him.

An instant after they ducked out of sight, a bulky,

hideous woman lumbered into view and approached the

well. She had a broad, flat face with saggy earlobes that

hung almost to her hefty shoulders. Her misshapen bosom

drooped inside a coarse, homespun tunic. Her avocado skin

had a ridged texture like corduroy, her graying hair was

shaggy and matted, and her build bordered on obese. The

well barely came to her knees, making her considerably

taller than Hugo. She waddled from side to side as she

walked, and she was breathing heavily through her mouth.

Bending over, she pawed at the well, stroking the

wooden frame. The ogress can’t see much, the satyr

whispered.

When he said it, the ogress jerked her head up. She

yammered something in a guttural language. Shambling a

couple of steps away from the well, she squatted down and

sniffed at the ground where Seth had thrown his salt.

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.