Grip of the Shadow Plague (Page 38)

"What is it?" Seth asked.

"Newel," the satyr said. "He was napping. Those foul little nipsies had their revenge on him, accosted him in his sleep."

"How is he?" Tanu asked.

Doren grabbed fistfuls of his hair and shook his head. "Not good. He’s changing, I think, like the nipsies changed. You’ve got to help him! Is Stan around?"

Seth shook his head. Grandpa had gone with Grandma, Dale, and Hugo to negotiate with Nero, hoping the cliff troll could provide some information by using his seeing stone.

"Stan is away for the afternoon," Tanu said. "Describe what is happening to Newel."

"He woke up screaming with evil nipsies on him like fleas. I helped him brush them off, but not before they inflicted lots of tiny wounds on his neck, arms, and chest. Once we drove them out, careful not to kill them, we thought all was well. His injuries were plentiful but miniscule. We even had a laugh about it, and started laying plans for a counterattack. We figured we could pack their grandest palaces with dung." "Then Newel took a turn for the worse," Tanu prompted.

"Not long afterward, he started sweating and acting delirious. Felt like you could fry an egg on his forehead. He lay down, and soon he started moaning. When I left him, he seemed tormented by dark dreams. His chest and arms were looking hairier."

"We might be able to learn something by observing him," Tanu said. "How far away is he?"

"We have a shelter over by the tennis courts," Doren said. "He wasn’t too far gone when I left him. Maybe we can reverse it. Potions are your specialty, right?"

"I’m not sure what we’re up against, but I’ll try," Tanu said. "Seth, go back to the house and wait for-"

"No way," Seth said. "He’s my friend, it isn’t far, I’ve been good lately, I’m coming."

Tanu tapped a thick finger against his chin. "You’ve been more patient than usual these past few days, and it might be unwise to leave you alone. Your grandparents might have my head, but if you promise to let Mendigo return you to the house without complaint on my order, you can join us."

"Deal!" Seth exclaimed.

"Lead the way," Tanu told Doren.

The satyr took off at a brisk pace. They raced along a path that Seth knew, having visited the tennis court many times over the summer. Newel and Doren had built the grass court, and Warren had provided top-notch equipment. Both of the satyrs were quite adept at the sport. Before long Seth had a stitch in his side. For such a big man, Tanu could cover ground quickly. The run did not seem to tire him.

"Newel is in the shed?" Seth panted as the tennis court drew near.

"Not the equipment shed," Doren replied, not at all winded by the running. "We keep shelters all over the preserve. Never know where you might decide you want to rest your head. It isn’t far from the court."

"Mendigo, carry Seth," Tanu ordered.

The wooden puppet scooped Seth into his arms. Seth felt mildly offended-Tanu hadn’t even bothered to ask his permission! The court was not much farther. Even though being carried was a relief, and it allowed Tanu and Doren to pick up their pace a little, Seth wished he had been the one to suggest it. He disliked feeling underestimated.

They left the path, tromped through some undergrowth, and emerged on the immaculate lawn of the freshly chalked tennis court. Without pause, Doren dashed across the court and plunged into the trees beyond. Branches whipped past Seth as Mendigo raced along behind the others, dodging around trees and bushes.

Finally a tidy wooden shack came into view. The walls looked weathered and splintery, but there were no gaps or cracks, and the solid door fit snugly. There was a single window beside the door with four panes and green curtains behind it. A stovepipe protruded through the roof. When they reached the tiny clearing where the shack stood, Mendigo dumped Seth on his feet. "Keep your distance, Seth," Tanu warned, approaching the shack with Doren. The satyr opened the door and entered. Tanu waited on the threshold. Seth heard a vicious snarl, and Doren came flying out the door backwards. Tanu caught him, stumbling away from the doorway as he absorbed the airborne satyr’s momentum.

A shaggy creature emerged from the shack. It was Newel, and yet it was not Newel. Taller and bulkier, he still walked upright like a man, but dark brown fur covered him from horns to hooves. The horns were longer and blacker, corkscrewing up to sharp points. His face was almost unrecognizable, the nose and mouth having fused into a snout, quivering lips peeled back to reveal sharp teeth like a wolf’s. Most disturbing were his eyes: yellow and bestial, with horizontally slit pupils.

Growling savagely, Newel pounced from the doorway, hurling Tanu aside and tackling Doren. Newel and Doren rolled across the ground. Doren gripped Newel by the neck, muscles straining to keep those snapping teeth away.

"Mendigo, immobilize Newel," Tanu called.

The limberjack raced toward the struggling satyrs. Just before Mendigo reached them, Newel wrenched free from Doren, caught one of the puppet’s extended arms, and flung him through the air into the shack. Then Newel charged Seth.

Seth realized he had no way to fend off the vicious satyr. Running would buy him only a few seconds, and would take him farther from the help of the others. Instead, he crouched, and when Newel had almost reached him, he dove forward at his legs.

The tactic surprised the raging satyr, who tripped over Seth and did a somersault before regaining his feet. The side of Seth’s head throbbed where a hoof had clubbed him. He looked up at Newel in time to see Tanu slam into him from the side, smashing the satyr to the ground like a linebacker with permission to kill.

Newel recovered swiftly, rolling away from Tanu and rising to a crouch. Newel leapt at Tanu, who sidestepped the lunge and wrapped the crazed satyr in a full nelson, arms twined under Newel’s armpits and locked behind his neck. Newel struggled and squirmed, but Tanu bore down on him ruthlessly, using brute strength to maintain the hold. Mendigo and Doren rushed toward the combat.

After a loud cry between a roar and a bleat, Newel craned his head and sank his teeth into Tanu’s thick forearm. Jaws clamped shut, Newel twisted and ducked, heaving Tanu over the top of himself, breaking the hold and sending the Samoan sprawling.

Doren charged his mutated friend, but Newel backhanded him with a crack like a gunshot, and Doren flopped to the ground. Then Newel danced away from Mendigo. Twice Newel grabbed for the giant puppet, but Mendigo dodged him. Dropping to all fours, Mendigo skittered back and forth in a spidery crawl before moving in and entangling Newel’s legs. Stomping and kicking, the enraged satyr broke free, leaving Mendigo with a splintered arm. "Go!" Doren shouted, rising, his cheek already swelling. "We can’t win this. It’s too late. I’ll hold him off!"