"It's my fault," Seth admitted wretchedly. "I was a prisoner at Living Mirage, and somebody snuck the Translocator and the Sands of Sanctity into my cell. I'd promised Graulas I would heal him if I could, so on my way back here, I stopped by his cave. As soon as I healed him, he stole the artifacts before I could react. He was so quick!"
Coulter closed his eyes, one cheek twitching. "I see." When he spoke again, he sounded more in control of himself. "Seth, you must listen to me. I don't have much time."
"Don't talk like that," Seth said.
"Hush," Coulter insisted. "I'm no tenderfoot. I've had plenty of injuries in my time, and I know what this is. Things got crushed, parts deep inside. I have minutes, maybe seconds. Listen. While Graulas attacked the barn, I grabbed the Chronometer. As he tore into the house, I watched from a window, trying to formulate a strategy. After I glimpsed you at the edge of the woods with Hugo, I used the Chronometer."
"Used it how?" Seth asked.
Coulter coughed wetly. "I visited Patton. Told him the Chronometer was about to be taken. Told him you were around."
"You should have run!" Seth said.
"I did run. Visiting Patton cost me no time. I didn't even make it to the front door. There was no escaping what happened. Graulas is too powerful. But listen. Since we knew you were around, Patton promised to leave you some advice. A passageway beneath the old manor leads to a secret grotto. Down in the cellar, beneath the manor, you'll find a fireplace against one wall. Step inside and say, 'Everybody loves a show-off.' That will open the way."
"Then what?" Seth asked.
Coulter grimaced, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. "We hope Patton has an idea."
"Where are the others?" Seth asked urgently. "Where is Grandpa?"
Coulter shook his head. "Gone. If they lost the Translocator, they were all captured tonight."
"All of them?" Seth asked incredulously. "Stan, Ruth, Kendra, Tanu, Warren ... all of them. I was ...holding down the fort. Vanessa is still here, down in the Quiet Box. Maybe she could Coulter gasped and coughed. "I grunted. "Do your best."
Hot tears flowed freely down Seth's cheeks. "I'm so sorry,
Coulter."
The old relics collector patted his hand. His eyes cleared for a moment and locked with Seth's. He seemed intent on speaking, but the words resisted. "Not your fault," he finally "' sputtered. He gripped Seth's wrist, "You're a good boy. They tricked you. You were ... showing mercy. Maybe we can get them yet."
"I will. I promise, I will, I really will." Coulter laid his head back, closing his eyes. His chest shook as if trying to cough, but only a faint strangling sound came out. His eyelids fluttered. His hands jerked. Seth looked up at Hugo. "What do we do?" Coulter exhaled one last time and then went limp and silent. Seth felt for breathing at his mouth and tried to find a pulse in his neck and chest. There were no signs of life. Trying to recall the first-aid basics he knew, Seth started rhythmically compressing Coulter' chest. Then he pinched Coulter's nostrils shut and breathed into his mouth a couple of times. He repeated the compressions and the breathing exercise, but Coulter remained inert
"Coulter gone," Hugo rumbled heavily.
Seth backed away from the corpse of his friend. Despite the words of comfort from Coulter, he could not avoid the conviction that he had caused this. Sure, the demons had designed and carried out the plot, but Seth had been the idiot they could design it around. Both Graulas and Nagi Luna had known he would do the wrong thing, and he had, and now Coulter was dead, Fablehaven was in ruins, and the artifacts were gone.
The weight of his regret threatened to crush him. Thanks to his lack of judgment, the Society of the Evening Star now had all the keys to the demon prison.
Chapter 14 An Unexpected Ally
T here seemed to be some confusion regarding where to put Kendra. She spent a lot of time waiting in smoky guard rooms as men and goblins haggled. When her escorts had finally resolved on a cell, just as she was being ushered inside, a stumpy goblin with squinty eyes and a face like a catcher's mitt showed up waving a written order. A tall, armored man and a potbellied goblin with a severe under-bite studied the parchment.
"Came straight from the top," the squinty goblin rasped importantly.
"I can see that, pugface," snarled the goblin with the underbite. "Why that cell? We haven't had a chance to properly examine it yet, what with all the commotion."
"You telling me no?" the squinty goblin challenged.
"I'm saying it don't add up," the other goblin groused.
"Not our place to do the math," advised the armored man. "Boss always has his reasons."
"There's some sense," applauded the squinty goblin.
"This way," the armored man said to Kendra.
They escorted her deeper into the bowels of the dungeon, finally opening a thick wooden door. The potbellied goblin motioned for her to enter.
"You're sure?" Kendra asked.
"Don't get smart," the goblin spat.
The door banged shut behind her and the guards tromped away. When she had first been led away from the Sphinx, her captors had made her take off her shirt of adamant mail. She felt much more vulnerable without it. Feeble torchlight seeped in through a peephole, but Kendra didn't need it. To her eyes, even the deepest shadows of the room were dim, not dark.
The only furniture in the dank space was a flimsy cot. Water dripped steadily in one corner. A hole in the floor appeared to serve as a latrine. What most caught Kendra's eye were the messages scratched on the wall. She roamed the cell, reading the crudely inscribed phrases.
Seth rules!
Welcome to Seth's House.
Seth rocks!
Seth was here. Now it's your turn.
Seth Sorenson forever.
Enjoy the food!
If you're reading this, you can read.
All roads lead to Seth.
Is it still dripping?
Seth haunts these halls.
You're in a Turkish prison!
Seth is the man!
Use the meal mats as toilet paper. And so forth.
Cold, hopeless, and alone, Kendra found herself giggling at the messages her brother had scrawled. He must have been so bored!
Kendra sat on the cot. Where had her brother gone? One of the guards had mentioned that the cell needed to be inspected. Did that mean Seth had escaped? It fit the discussion she had overheard, but seemed too much to hope. Escaped to where? After all, they were on a hostile preserve in Eastern Turkey.
Should she search for a way out? Could Seth have dug a tunnel? He had been captured less than a week ago. Unlikely or not, it seemed faithless not to look. She probed the walls and floors, tapping, pulling, trying to dig her fingers into cracks. She scooted the cot aside, in case it helped mask some kind of false panel. Her attempt at optimism began to wane. If Seth had excavated an escape tunnel, could he possibly have hidden it so well?