by Dan Poblocki
They waited another moment. Poppy thought of Marcus, hoping that he was safe now. Dreaming of his cello, of his uncle, of their melody. Silently, each of them thanked him for being brave, for the gift of his song, even when he must have feared what it would cost. Then, holding hands, they stepped back into the meadow’s tall grass and headed along the line of trees, straddling both the light from the stars and the forest’s overreaching shadow.
IN A DARK place in the woods, not far from where Marcus’s body is lying, Dylan watches his brother head off with the two girls. He steps forward into the wide furrow of earth that the creature left in its wake as it dragged itself away.
A spot just below one of his eyes is twitching, but when Dylan tries to scratch it, his finger bumps into the thick plastic mask that he cannot remove. The twitch grows more uncomfortable as Dash walks along the edge of the forest. It’s so bad that Dylan wants to shout and thrash, to throw himself onto the ground and pound his fists into the dirt. But he can’t scream. He can’t do any of the things he wants to do. Something won’t let him.
Back in the tower, as that same something moved his body around like a puppet, he’d begged for his brother’s help. My mask is stuck. Take it off me, Dash. Take it off! Fix me … I need you, little brother. But Dash had fought him instead, like when they were little and one of them wouldn’t share a favorite toy.
And now his brother is walking away. Dash is leaving him alone here in this nightmare place, just like the selfish jerk that Dylan has always suspected lurked underneath his brother’s skin.
Don’t let him go, says a voice in Dylan’s head. It sounds like Del, the producer. Or maybe like Cyrus, the director. Or maybe like the thing that had been hiding inside Azumi’s sister. All of the voices combine and then add, Make him pay for what he’s done.
“We’ll help you.”
Dylan discovers that he’s not alone after all. The other members of the cast have found him. Only three of them left now. The girl in the cat mask and the boys in the bear and rabbit masks stroll quietly through the brush behind him, approaching calmly. As if this is only a scene in a story, a movie, a dream. And they are only doing their jobs.
“We lost our families too,” says the girl in the cat mask. It sounds like she’s reading from a script, telling the beginning of a bedtime story. She’s very convincing. Dylan finds comfort in her words. “A long time ago. But we found one another.” Her mask shifts, the mouth twisting into a wicked smile. “And now we have you.”
Together, the four masked children turn back toward the meadow, searching through the silhouettes of tree trunks for the place where Poppy, Azumi, and Dash have disappeared into the distance.
Silently, they follow.
ENDPAPERS
Photos ©: 2–3: background illustration: Larry Rostant for Scholastic; 4: fire: CG Textures; 4–5: wallpaper: clearviewstock/Shutterstock, Inc.; 6–7: Shadow House illustration: Shane Rebenschied for Scholastic; Shadow House mansion: Dariush M/Shutterstock, Inc., Shadow House fog: Maxim van Asseldonk/Shutterstock, Inc., Shadow House clouds: Aon_Skynotlimit/Shutterstock, Inc., foreground grass and trees: Maxim van Asseldonk/Shutterstock, Inc.
INTERIOR
Photos ©: cover background illustration: Larry Rostant for Scholastic; Chapter 3: couple: Joey Boylan/Getty Images, man suit and hat: ysbrandcosijn/Fotolia, lady hat: Alexey Yuzhakov/Shutterstock, Inc., doorway and background: Kochneva Tetyana/Shutterstock, Inc., skull: Lukas Gojda/Fotolia; Chapter 7: greenhouse: Patrik Stedrak/Fotolia, bench: KateD/Fotolia, hanging legs: Everett Collection/Shutterstock, Inc., leaves: keantian/Fotolia, Monkey Focus/Shutterstock, Inc., photobee/Fotolia; Chapter 8: classroom: Sami Sert/Getty Images, chalkboard: urfin/Shutterstock, Inc., cat mask: CSA Plastock/Getty Images; Chapter 9: water: spectrumx86/Fotolia; arms: prudkov/Fotolia, piranka/Getty Images, russal/Shutterstock, Inc., Anton Sokolov/Fotolia, body: Blake Sinclair/Getty Images; Chapter 14: hallway: phoelixDE/Shutterstock, Inc., mask: vaij/Fotolia, boy illustration: Larry Rostant for Scholastic; Chapter 18: rabbit: Rubberball/Mike Kemp/Getty Images; fox: nullplus/Getty Images; bobcat: eastmanphoto/Fotolia; window: littleny/Fotolia; bookshelf: dmitrygolikov/Fotolia; Chapter 23: drawers set: carl ballou/Shutterstock, Inc.; hanging shoe: Marie Charouzova/Shutterstock, Inc.; shoes: Rainer Fuhrmann/Shutterstock, Inc. and Taborsky/Shutterstock, Inc.; candy: philip kinsey/Fotolia; books: Paul Orr/Shutterstock, Inc.; folders: Valentin Agapov/Shutterstock, Inc.; files: Szasz-Fabian Erika/Fotolia; doll: unclepepin/Shutterstock, Inc.; football: spxChrome/Getty Images; sheet music: Nikolai Sorokin/Fotolia; Chapter 24: falling man illustration: Erika Scipione for Scholastic; frame: smuay/Fotolia; wallpaper: Vadelma/Shutterstock, Inc.; frame: CG Textures; Chapter 34: Shadow House illustration: Shane Rebenschied for Scholastic, Shadow House mansion: Dariush M/Shutterstock, Inc., Shadow House fog: Maxim van Asseldonk/Shutterstock, Inc., Shadow House clouds: Aon_Skynotlimit/Shutterstock, Inc., Shadow House moon: Mykola Mazuryk/Shutterstock, Inc.; foreground trees: Noppasinw/Fotolia, foggy tree background: andreiuc88/Shutterstock, Inc., face: pidjoe/Getty Images, face wounds: Kiselev Andrey Valerevich/Shutterstock, Inc., body: BlueSkyImage/Shutterstock, Inc., test tube: Jose Gil/Fotolia; Chapter 35: monster illustration: Shane Rebenschied for Scholastic, background: Maxim van Asseldonk/Shutterstock, Inc.
Dan Poblocki is the author of several books for young readers, including The House on Stone’s Throw Island, The Book of Bad Things, The Nightmarys, The Stone Child, and the Mysterious Four series. His recent novels, The Ghost of Graylock and The Haunting of Gabriel Ashe, were both Junior Library Guild selections and made the American Library Association’s Best Fiction for Young Adults list in 2013 and 2014. Dan lives in Brooklyn and often writes in a cafe filled with specimen jars, taxidermied animals, and stacks of old books. Visit him online at www.danpoblocki.com.
A sneak peek of the next
Book Three
No Way Out
By Dan Poblocki
ON THE EDGE of the starlit meadow, Azumi’s thoughts throbbed in her head in time with her footsteps. My fault Marcus is dead. My fault Moriko’s gone. My fault we trusted the monster, my fault, my fault, my fault my fault—
Something snagged Azumi’s sneaker, and she tripped forward, the tall grass padding her fall.
Poppy and Dash continued on, unaware that Azumi was sprawled behind them. They marched quickly and quietly, parallel to the dark woods several yards to their right.
Wait! Please—
She tried to call out, but her voice was stuck in her throat. Would calling them even help? Everything here was out to destroy them. What was the point?
My fault—
Larkspur House glared down at her from atop the hill to her left, and Azumi shuddered. Something inside its dark windows wished to keep her there forever. If the hallways could change shape, the wallpaper turn into toxic tendrils, and the greenhouse contain acres of forest, what was stopping Larkspur from catapulting its bricks and glass and metal spikes far into the meadow and pounding her flat?
No. She had to concentrate. She had to stick to the plan, do what Poppy and Dash said.
They were even farther away now—focused and determined to make it quickly back to the driveway and the safety of Hardscrabble Road. Dash limped a little, and Poppy tended to him every few steps. So why hadn’t she noticed that Azumi wasn’t with them?
Azumi pressed her lips together and was about to stand when something rustled the grass by her feet. Turning back, she noticed the shadow of the thing that had tripped her only a few inches away. Instinct made her scramble aside. But when the breeze rustled the grass, showing Azumi what looked like matted and faded-blue hair glistening in the starlight, panic whooshed into her head like a harsh gust of wind, and she froze, wide-eyed, her chest heaving.
Blue hair …
Moriko? she tried to say, but her voice wouldn’t come past her lips.
You can’t be … You’re dead …
This … isn’t … real.
A trick … Just like how the creature had dressed as you
, like a costume …
She forced herself to her feet. From up the hill, Larkspur House loomed. Azumi could feel it grinning at her—another version of that same creature that had pretended to be her sister.
But the house is only a costume too … , she thought.
Wood and brick and stone and … blood …
Azumi shook her head violently, scattering the cobwebs of anxiety that her brain kept constructing around her thoughts. She steeled herself, pushing her fear to the edges of her imagination, then peered at the dark mass that was hidden by the long grass.
It’s happening again …
You’re not really here …
Wake up, Azumi … Wake up … !
A harsh breeze parted the grass, finally revealing the thing that Azumi had tripped over. Her eyes grew wide with horror. It was a body. Pieces of dirty clothing formed the shape of a torso, arms, legs. She knew these clothes. It was Moriko!
Not again … please! I don’t want to see …
The wind caught several pieces of blue hair and lifted them from her sister’s withered skull. They rose up like gossamer strands before rushing forward and clinging to Azumi’s face. Her vision swirled as she screamed, her voice shattering the quiet night. As she inhaled, the hairs seemed to creep into her throat and up her nostrils, choking her. She scratched at her face, grabbing at the sharp strands, but she was blinded by a stinging sensation in her eyes. She could hear something scrabbling through the grass near her feet, and she imagined her sister’s hand clawing its way toward her ankle, while somewhere in the woods the monster heard her and came rushing back to finish its job.
Hands clasped her shoulders and spun her around. She was too shocked to cry out.
Poppy was standing behind her, Dash at her side. “Azumi! What’s wrong?”
Azumi blinked, still gagging, but all of a sudden her face was clear, the hair gone. Carefully, she licked at her lips. The blue hair had only been another trick—the house, the shadow creature was still playing with her. Or maybe it was her own mind …
Azumi leapt forward and threw her arms around Poppy, pulling her away from the spot where her sister’s body was lying. “It’s M-Moriko,” Azumi sputtered. “She’s come back.” But when she pointed toward the grass, there was no body. Instead, she saw that the thing she’d tripped over was merely a long tree branch, bleached by the sun.
Her skin flashed cold.
“This branch wasn’t here,” said Azumi. “It was my sister. She grabbed at my foot. I swear! She wanted to kill me—”
“It wasn’t real,” said Poppy.
“Shh,” said Dash. “Keep your voices down.” He glanced over Azumi’s shoulder toward the edge of woods. Marcus was back there somewhere, lying beneath the tree where the creature had tossed him. “It could be following us.”
“I’m … I’m sorry … ” Azumi covered her face, hiding tears. “It scared me.”
“I’m sure it did.” Poppy sighed. “But it was fake.” She rubbed Azumi’s back. “We’ve got to stay strong. Don’t let the house in your head.”
“Too late for that,” said Azumi. “I don’t know how to get it out of my head.”
“From now on,” said Dash, “we have to keep closer together. If anyone trips and falls, or even just sees something weird, let everyone know. Immediately. We can’t let the house separate us.”
“Okay,” said Azumi, wiping at her nose.
Poppy stared into the woods, listening. “If it was still coming for us, we’d hear it, wouldn’t we? Crunching through the brush?”
“Unless it’s changed shape again,” said Dash, “and now it looks like someone else.”
Azumi’s skin prickled as the three glanced at one another, suddenly suspicious.
But she could trust them, couldn’t she? They’d been out of her sight for only a few seconds. Not enough time for anything to—
“Let me see your eyes,” said Poppy, stepping in front of her.
“Me?” Azumi’s cheeks tingled with hurt. She scowled, then widened her eyes at the other girl. “Brown. Not gold.”
A howling cry rose up from the darkness back near where Marcus had fallen. Azumi slumped her shoulders, trying to shrink down inside herself. Poppy clasped Azumi’s hand, and Dash stepped closer. Their warmth erased some of Azumi’s chill, and she felt grateful—that they trusted her, even after she’d fought them so hard about Moriko; that they understood her fear; that she wasn’t alone.
But you are alone …
Azumi squeezed her eyes shut again.
The howl echoed across the grounds, and then died away. The silence that followed was even more frightening. There was no way to tell where the monster was now.
“Come on,” said Dash, tugging at the girls’ arms. “We’ve got a long way to go around the house before we reach the driveway. And I don’t think that thing is giving up anytime soon.”
“Neither are we,” said Poppy, unable to control the quaver in her voice.
Copyright © 2017 by Scholastic Inc.
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Library of Congress Control Number Available
ISBN 978-0-545-92551-8
First edition, January 2017
Cover photo by Larry Rostant © Scholastic Inc.
Logo by Charice Silverman
Art direction by Keirsten Geise
e-ISBN 978-0-545-92577-8
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