Keys to the Demon Prison

Kendra imagined Trask’s apartment, twisted the cylinder, and a moment later they were standing between a leather sofa and a glass coffee table. Tanu crouched over Trask, applying ointment to his shoulder.

"You guys never get a break," Warren quipped.

"All in a day’s work," Tanu replied.

"You look like you were marooned on a desert island," Trask said.

"I wish. I would have given anything for an ocean breeze." Warren stroked his beard. "Kendra, how about you teleport us to a barber shop?"

"We should get to Fablehaven," Trask said. "My apartment has certain protections, but nothing like the walls of a preserve. You three go first."

"Want to swing by a burger joint on the way?" Warren asked out of the side of his mouth.

"I’m sure Grandma will whip up something," Kendra replied, twisting the cylinder. A moment later, she, Warren, and Elise were at Fablehaven, standing together in the kitchen. Nobody else was in sight.

"Hello?" Kendra called.

"Kendra?" Grandpa answered. It sounded like he was in his study.

"I’ll be right back," Kendra told Elise. Twisting the cylinder, she returned alone to Trask’s apartment.

"It worked all right?" Trask asked.

"We went straight to the kitchen," Kendra said.

Trask nodded. "Good. I’m not surprised. But I’m more impressed that the Translocator could leap through the defenses of a preserve than I am that it can take us to the other side of the globe. Let’s go."

Once Trask and Tanu had taken hold of the Translocator, Kendra teleported them to Fablehaven. When they appeared in the kitchen, Grandpa, Grandma, and Coulter were already there. They looked subdued.

"Get this, Stan," Tanu said. "The key we retrieved from Wyrmroost had smaller keys inside, like a nesting doll. And guess what we found at the center? The Translocator."

"The key was the vault," Grandpa said.

"Elise told us about Seth and the others," Coulter said.

Grandma caught Kendra in a tight embrace. "We’ll get him back," she promised.

Kendra nodded, eyes stinging. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

Chapter 6 Living Mirage

Seth could hardly think. He could hear nothing. He could smell nothing. All he saw was muted grayness, which almost seemed more like oblivion than pure blackness would have. When he tried to move, there was no physical response, no sensation, as if all his nerves had been disconnected.

Time had lost all meaning. His sense of self had begun to diminish. His mind seemed sluggish, half asleep. He did not dream, but when he focused, he could remember.

He remembered looking down at the arrowhead, remembered the horror on Kendra’s face. He remembered feeling angry. What a cheap shot! Right in the back! Taking a few steps had proved that he was useless, dying.

He had instantly thought about the gaseous potion. The concoction wouldn’t heal the injury, but it would put him in hibernation, prevent the wound from worsening. In the meantime, he wouldn’t be a burden. They could fight without having to drag him around, perhaps killing him and themselves in the process. He recalled thinking that if his friends could somehow win the battle, maybe they could rescue him later.

Seth remembered giving Kendra his emergency kit. That was important. The tower was inside, and the leviathan, and some other less precious items he didn’t want to hand over to the enemy if he were killed or captured.

After becoming gaseous, he had moved slowly, drifting in whatever direction he chose. Having lost the ability of speech, he had watched wordlessly as Kendra used the Translocator to escape with Trask and Elise. He had watched the magician send chains after the others as zombies crowded into the room.

Then Trask had returned, trying to help Tanu, and, without warning, Seth had felt effervescent rushes of bubbles tingling through his wispy body. That was when the grayness had overtaken him and most physical sensations had ended.

Had his mind been separated from his body? Somehow stolen out of the gas? It felt that way. It was tough to focus on the present. There was nothing to focus on.

He caught himself slipping into trances. It was hard to say for how long. Whenever his mind kicked back into gear, becoming self-aware instead of coasting, he would fight the emptiness with memories, people he knew, places he had been, fun things he had done. Anything to keep his mind from shutting down and merging with the nothingness.

Thanks to his addled state, Seth could not say how long he had been adrift in gray oblivion when sensation returned in a rush. There came a sense of motion, of tiny bubbles coursing through him, and then he was flesh and blood again, lying on his side on a plush rug, his chest aflame with agony.

Turning his head, Seth looked up into the dark eyes of the Sphinx. The gaze of his enemy was warm and gentle. The Sphinx gestured to the wizard who had attacked his friends inside the Dreamstone, the man with the braided beard and the turban. The man pointed at the arrow protruding from Seth, and it dissolved into smoke, although the deep pain of the wound persisted. When the wizard waved a hand, Seth’s sword and knife evaporated as well.

"Welcome back," the Sphinx said to Seth. He glanced at the wizard. "Leave us."

The gold-skinned man nodded and moved out of view. Seth heard a door open and close. The intense pain in his chest remained. He was afraid to move, afraid blood would gush out of the wound. He could smell incense burning.

The Sphinx produced a bright copper teapot in the shape of a cat, the tail forming the spout. He upended the teapot over Seth, and dust streamed out. Seth’s wounds tingled momentarily, and then the pain was gone. The Sphinx set the teapot aside.

"The artifact from Fablehaven," Seth said.

"You should be glad I have the Sands of Sanctity," the Sphinx said. "Your injury was mortal."

"Where was I? What happened?"

"While you were in your gaseous state, Mirav trapped you in a bottle. The effects would have been disorienting."

Seth stood up, groggily brushing dust from his shirt. "Kendra got away."

The Sphinx smiled. He was a handsome man with short, beaded dreadlocks and very dark skin. He wore a white ribbed shirt and loose jeans. His feet were bare. "You’re taller."

"Tanu and Trask got away too, right? And Elise. What about Mara and Berrigan?"

The Sphinx regarded Seth with fathomless black eyes. "There is something different about you, Seth Sorenson." His faint accent was hard to place, but hinted at tropical islands. "You have been consorting with demons."

Seth felt his face grow warm. "I’m a shadow charmer."