Nightbooks
Page 9
Yasmin opened her mouth, about to answer, and then a startled look crossed her face. She glared at Alex with renewed mistrust.
“My family is none of your business,” she snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you? We’re not friends.”
Yasmin turned her back toward Alex with a definitive spin of her heel. Apparently their conversation was over.
It took a lot to make Alex angry, but he felt it bubbling up inside of him now. He was tired and hungry and suddenly feeling foolish for helping this girl in the first place.
“What is your problem?” he asked.
“Right now?” Yasmin replied, tugging cautiously on the vine. “This dangler. It’s stuck.”
“I mean your problem with me.”
Yasmin sighed and slowly twisted the dangler in a clockwise motion.
“I don’t have a problem with you, Alex.”
“Yeah you do,” he said. It was nice to let loose, stoke his anger into flames. “You have from the start! I don’t get it. We’re on the same team!”
“This from the boy who hates sports.”
“You know what I mean. We’re both prisoners.”
“Prisoners?” Yasmin asked with a mocking half smile. “Last time I checked, you spend your days in a comfy library making up stories. Poor thing.”
“I’m still trapped here. Like you.” His voice softened, the anger having run its course. “You can trust me, Yasmin. I know exactly what you’re going through.”
“No you do not!” Yasmin screeched, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. “You think just because you’ve been here a week you have any idea what it’s been like for me? You have no clue. It’s all been so easy for you. In fact, you’re probably having a blast, like you’re the star in one of those stories you write. Only you’ve never seen Natacha truly lose it, like I have. You’ve never seen the horror in your friends’ eyes as the magic starts to do its work and—”
As Yasmin talked, her attempt to detach the stubborn sac from the vine grew increasingly violent, until she was twisting it from side to side with reckless abandon. Now it finally came free—and immediately slipped out of her fingers, hitting the table with a solid plop.
“No!” Yasmin exclaimed.
Two red pincers burst through the outer layer of the sac and dug into the wood, gaining purchase and dragging the rest of the body to freedom. Alex watched in disgust and fascination as dozens of bristly legs shook off the rest of the sac like an unwanted sleeping bag. It’s a centipede, Alex thought. Except it was more than that, of course. Centipedes didn’t have legs that hummed and vibrated like the blades of an electric razor. Nor did they have a periscopic eye dangling from a stalk in the center of their head.
Yasmin brought her foot down, but the creature was too fast.
It skittered along the tabletop, squeezing between pots and along leaves, its body undulating like a snake. As it moved, its vibrating legs spit sawdust into the air and left a long, shallow gouge in the tabletop. It passed over a fallen leaf and shredded it to nothing.
Shredder, Alex thought, naming the creature in his head.
“Get it!” Yasmin exclaimed.
They sprinted toward the back of the nursery, Alex running alongside the table as Yasmin tracked their quarry up top, avoiding the other plants as best she could. When the shredder came close enough to the edge Alex slammed his gloved fist down. He lifted his hand, hoping to see bug guts smeared across the table.
Nothing.
“Where’d it go?” Yasmin asked.
Alex shook his head. He had no idea.
They both listened closely for any possible sound. Even Lenore joined them: ears perked, tiny monkey fingers protruding from her paws. Ready for action, Alex thought, with an unexpected feeling of affection for his foe.
Finally, he heard a humming sound above him. Alex looked up just as a many-legged shadow skittered across the underside of the black lights, dusting the plants below with flecks of glass.
“There!” Alex exclaimed, pointing up.
It was too high for the children to reach, even standing on the tabletop. Not too high for Lenore, though. The cat hissed and leaped onto the trellis, clinging to it with her tiny fingers, and climbed upward. She wasn’t an expert climber by any means. Slowly but surely, however, she made her way closer to the light fixture hanging from the ceiling.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Alex said, “but why is Lenore helping us?”
“She’s not,” Yasmin said. “She’s protecting Natacha’s plants.”
“Works for me.”
They followed the shredder, trying to keep it in sight as it cut a yellow wire with its sharp legs. Electricity sparked in the air. The black lights flickered and then went out altogether. Without them, the plants instantly stopped glowing.
The children were plunged into darkness.
Alex had never been afraid of the dark, but he had also never been in a magical nursery filled with scary plants and a razor-legged centipede before. That changed things. He ran to the nearest source of light, Yasmin by his side. The shredder followed them, dancing across the suspended metal hoods and finding the next yellow wire in no time at all. It was a quick learner.
Another row of black lights went out, birthing a second pocket of darkness.
They moved deeper into the nursery, away from the exit.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Alex said.
“It’s okay,” replied Yasmin. “We can still fix this.”
“Yasmin—”
“If we don’t, Natacha is going to be furious! That might be okay for you, storyteller, but not for me. I’m just the girl who waters the plants. I can be replaced!”
The suspended black lights creaked in protest as Lenore leaped onto them, landing gracefully on all four paws and immediately vanishing before their eyes. Alex could still track her progress, however; the lights creaked beneath her weight as the invisible cat stalked her prey. Lenore moved fast for her size. There was no way the centipede was going to make the next wire before twenty pounds of invisible cat caught her.
“Get ready,” Alex said. “If Lenore knocks it down, we can’t let it get away this time.”
They heard a quiet hiss, as though Lenore was getting ready to pounce. Before she could, however, the centipede abruptly changed directions and leaped back onto the trellis, landing on the sick vine. What’s it doing? Alex wondered, noticing that it was running on the underside of the vine and not along the top.
The first dangler fell, cut loose by those tiny vibrating legs. And then the second. The third.
It’s cutting them all free, Alex realized with horror.
Yasmin hopped on the table in one fluid motion, stepping on the first dangler before the sac even opened. By the time she got to the second one, two antennae had poked through the skin, their ends like prickly balls. It met a similar end beneath her sneaker. The third one managed to escape its sac entirely. Alex caught a glimpse of far too many eyes before slamming a potted plant on top of it.
The shredder had already vanished into the darkness. The vine shook, and Alex heard tiny thumps as dangler after dangler fell to the table. Listening closely, he heard other sounds as well.
Scratching. Clicking. Slithering.
Lenore, having finished a quick descent down the trellis, approached the sounds. Her back was arched. The black lights augmented her luminous green eyes.
“Lenore,” Alex said. “Don’t. There’re too many. You’ll get hurt.”
She looked at him askance, as though the concern in his voice had surprised her, and vanished. In the darkness, they heard a loud yowl as Lenore attacked. More sounds. Hissing. A buzzing noise, like a flying insect. A pot shattering.
Lenore screeched in pain.
Alex knew he shouldn’t feel bad. The cat was his enemy, not his friend. But whether it was intentional or not, she was helping them right now. I can’t just let her die. He took a step toward the darkness, but Yasmin grabbed his arm and shook her h
ead.
“We need to help her,” Alex said.
“Lenore can take care of herself,” Yasmin said. “You were right before. We should get out of here while we still can.”
The trellis shook as something crashed into it. Lenore hissed, and a chorus of foes replied in challenge: sharp chirps and angry chitters and high-pitched squeals. So many, Alex thought. Lenore started to hiss a second time, but then there was a snapping sound like a whip smacking concrete, followed by a large thump as something hit the ground.
“Lenore?” Alex asked.
He heard a sizzle of electricity, followed by a blinding flash.
The lights went out. This time, it was all of them.
11
The Kind of Shadows with Teeth
Alex was tempted to sprint full speed toward the exit. The trouble with that was if he tripped or banged into a table, he might lose all sense of direction and start heading the wrong way. Right now, he knew that if he kept walking in a straight line, he would eventually reach the entrance to the apartment. He couldn’t risk straying from that.
“Slow and steady,” Yasmin whispered, apparently coming to the same conclusion. “Stay together.”
Her voice was a comfort in the pitch-black of the nursery. What wasn’t comforting were the other sounds: the crunch of leaves torn between incisors, the grinding of tiny teeth against bark. The creatures were doing what all newborns did: eat. It seemed to be keeping them distracted for now, which was good, but Alex was afraid that if they heard two juicy children sneaking by, their appetites might take a quick turn toward the nonvegetarian.
One step at a time, Alex thought, trying to move as quietly as possible. You’ll be there before you—
He knocked into Yasmin. Something rattled in the dark, taking notice.
“Why’d you stop?” Alex whispered.
“I kicked something,” she said. “I think it’s Lenore.”
Alex bent down, lowering his hand into the darkness. He felt warm, soft fur. She seems to be breathing okay, Alex thought, feeling the rising and falling of her rib cage. But why isn’t she moving? He slid his hand over Lenore’s stomach and winced. There was something wet and sticky beneath his fingertips.
Blood.
“She’s hurt,” he said.
“She’ll be fine.”
“We have to help her.”
“We have more important things to worry about than Natacha’s little snitch.”
Alex understood where Yasmin was coming from, but he couldn’t just leave Lenore behind. Who knew what the other creatures might do to her? He slipped his hands beneath the cat and cradled her to his chest.
“I’ll carry her,” Alex said.
“Fine,” muttered Yasmin.
Boy and girl and cat navigated the darkness.
Alex’s ears grew attuned to the slightest sound, but for the most part the dangler-born left them alone. There were a few exceptions. The worst of these was when Alex felt something crawling along the nape of his neck but couldn’t do anything about it because he was carrying Lenore. Luckily, Yasmin managed to slap it away just before it scuttled down his back.
After a while, the sounds faded to silence.
“I don’t think they’re following us anymore,” Alex said. “They must be busy eating all the plants.”
“Or the other way around,” Yasmin said. “A lot of these plants are carnivorous. How’s the cat?”
“Heavy. But still breathing.”
“I guess it could have been worse,” Yasmin said. “At least those things are all trapped in the nursery. If they had gotten into Natacha’s precious apartment, then we really would have been in trouble.”
Alex froze in place. Yasmin took a few steps forward and then stopped as well.
“Alex?” she asked. “I don’t hear your footsteps.”
“About the closet door,” he said. “I don’t think it’s going to stop them.”
“Sure it will,” Yasmin said. “You afraid the insects will crawl right under? Don’t worry. It doesn’t work that way. When you close the door it seals magically. Nothing can get through.”
There was a long silence.
“You did close the door, right?” Yasmin asked.
“Mostly,” Alex said. “It’s just, it was really dark, so I left the door open the tiniest bit to let a little light in. . . .”
Yasmin immediately broke into a run. Alex did the same, though he had no chance of keeping up, especially with a giant cat weighing him down. The slap of Yasmin’s sneakers grew distant in the dark.
A few minutes later, he entered the apartment.
It was infested.
Alex’s first thought was of a city street at rush hour, except instead of commuters and cars the floor was trafficked by orange roaches and tarantulas and tiny rodents with barbed tails. And not just the floor, either. A gray blur scuttled along an upper bookshelf, knocking magical treasures to the floor. Rubbery strands dangled from the ceiling like jellyfish tentacles. A lizard poked its flat, coin-shaped head out of a torn sofa cushion like a swimmer coming up for air.
That’s why the nursery got so quiet, Alex thought. They all came here.
Glass shattered in the kitchen. This was quickly followed by a thunderous crash from deeper inside the apartment. Alex suspected that a dresser in one of the bedrooms had fallen over.
“They’re everywhere!” Yasmin exclaimed, swatting at a brown bee that had landed on the brim of her cap. “What do we do?”
Alex felt Lenore move in his arms and placed her gently on the floor. She took in the situation, groggy but aware. Her right side was matted with blood, but that didn’t stop her from snatching a green worm between her fingers and pulling it apart.
“We might be outnumbered,” Alex said. “But we’re a lot bigger than they are.”
“You focus on the floor,” Yasmin said. “I’ll swat.”
Like one of those city-destroying monsters in the old Japanese movies he loved, Alex stomped across the living room floor, trying to crush anything that moved. Meanwhile, Yasmin grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen and used it on dangler-born squirming along walls or scuttling across countertops.
For a few minutes, they seemed to be making some headway.
Then their prey began to fight back.
Alex heard a loud smack as Yasmin swatted a yellow mosquito on her neck. At almost the same moment, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. He kicked his foot and a furry lump sailed across the room. Before he could see where it went, something landed on his lower back and immediately began to climb higher, claws tearing through his shirt and into his skin.
“Get it off of me!” he screamed.
“Turn around!” exclaimed Yasmin.
Alex spun in place and felt her hand sweep across his back. A black lizard with eight legs landed on the floor and quickly vanished behind the couch.
“Thanks,” Alex said, while backing warily away from the wall. A swarm of dangler-born were congregating there, organizing an attack. “Let’s get to the library. I left the door locked, so there’s no way they could have gotten inside. Magical seal, right?”
“That’s not going to work,” Yasmin said. “Look behind you.”
Alex turned. Silver webs now covered the two archways leading out of the living room. He picked up a wand that had been knocked from the bookshelf and poked a single strand. It was as solid as steel wire.
No way we’re getting past that, Alex thought. We’re trapped.
The horde of dangler-born crawled down the wall and crossed to the center of the room. Their hisses and rattles took on an almost jubilant tone as they closed in on their prey.
“Any ideas?” Yasmin asked.
“There are like a hundred magical objects in this room,” Alex said, raising the wand in his hand. “There must be something we can use.”
“I’m not a witch,” Yasmin said. “And you’re not a wizard.”
“Maybe they work for anyone,” Alex said, pointing the wand in th
e direction of the approaching creatures. “Kaboom! Flameo! Freezit!”
Other than making him feel exceedingly foolish, the wand didn’t do a thing.
The dangler-born continued their steady approach. Alex pressed his back against the bookshelf. He felt something crawl up his left leg, land on his cheek, in his hair . . .
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”
Natacha stood at the front door, hands on hips, eyes wide with fury. The dangler-born leaped off Alex’s body, searching for safety.
“My apartment!” she screeched, taking in the wreckage around her. “What have you done to my beautiful apartment?”
Natacha flicked her two hands outward and the dangler-born vanished in tiny puffs of smoke. She crossed the room, ignoring the children for now, and snapped her fingers. The silver webs blocking the archways shriveled into dust. With her path now cleared, Natacha continued into the other rooms. Alex heard more puffs as the remaining intruders were exterminated.
A few moments later, Natacha returned to the living room and sat on her favorite chair, too livid to speak. Alex thought about trying to explain, but he was afraid that if he broke the silence it would be the last thing he ever did. Natacha was a coiled snake looking for a reason to strike.
“I can explain—” Yasmin started.
“No need,” Natacha replied, her eyes like chipped ice. “I know what happened. You did something stupid. It brought these vermin into being. They wrecked my apartment. What more do I need to know?”
Lenore limped over and took a seat by her master’s side. There were new wounds all over her body, including a particularly nasty gash just beneath her eye.
Natacha waggled her fingers and Lenore’s tail solidified into a long block of stone.
“How could you let this happen?” Natacha snapped. Lenore struggled to flee, her new tail dragging against the floor. “You were supposed to be watching them! This is your fault!”