All His Wrath: The Gargoyle Chronicles, #2

By Brandon King

The Menace Returns. Friends Are Threatened. Trust Is Challenged.

 

As nightmares plague her nights and a sense of impending doom hangs heavy in the air, Danielle begins to question the safety of her world. With each passing day, her growing sense of dread becomes impossible to ignore.

 

Hunted by a malevolent mutant who possesses unimaginable powers and a twisted agenda, Danielle and her friends find themselves entangled in a deadly game of cat and mouse. As the layers of this unholy foe's plan unravel, they discover that the stakes are far higher than they ever imagined.

 

As the relentless series of hunts and pursuits unfolds, Danielle and her friends are confronted with shocking revelations and unexpected alliances. Secrets buried deep within the fantastical gargoyle kingdom come to light, testing their loyalties and forcing them to question everything they thought they could count on.

 

With each step they take into the fantastical gargoyle kingdom, Danielle and her friends risk their lives and their very souls. The fate of their world hangs in the balance as they battle an enemy whose power knows no bounds.

 

All His Wrath is the 2nd volume in The Gargoyle Chronicles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prepare For Rain Press
• Release date: Feb 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386766087

Brandon King

Brandon King is an award-winning novelist, as well as a non-fiction writer. He spent too many years believing he should not write because he had a busy career and a family to support. When he finally started letting words flow out of his head, down his arms and through his fingers onto a computer keyboard, he regretted how much time he'd let flow past. At least now he is wiser (a little) and more focused (a lot). If you have an itch to write, then do it. Now. Put this book down and come back after you’ve written your book. Or at least a chapter. Mr. King lives in southwestern Idaho, where the moun-tains are near enough to feel. In just a few minutes he can be sitting on a column of basalt nearly 100 feet high. His wife is an accomplished singer-songwriter, with a love for Americana and blues. Their daughter became a published fantasy novelist at 17; she is now studying to become an engineer…while she continues writing her book series. They share their home with lots of beloved pets adopted from their local shelter.

Book preview

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ALL HIS WRATH

Book Two: The Gargoyle Chronicles

Copyright © 2015 Brandon King

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

For inquiries, please contact:

Prepare For Rain Press, Boise ID

prepareforrainpress.com

Editors: Stacy Ennis, stacyennis.com; Kim Foster, kimfostereditor.com

Cover by the graphic design team at Prepare For Rain Press; background image by Alan Frijns

Interior Design by Fusion Creative Works, fusioncw.com

Fireball illustration by Jessica Lund

ISBN: 978-0-9889537-6-5

First Printing, 2015

Revised cover, 2023

Published in the United States of America

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

1.Disturbed

2.Haunted

3.Some Enchanted Evening

4.In The Wee Hours

5.Friends Well Met

6.The Glimmer

7.Solace

8.Reunion

9.Blackness

10.Wicked This Way Comes

11.The Best Defense

12.Colton

13.The Testing of Paign

14.Gathering Storm

15.Flame and Wrath

16.Cracks and Fissures

17.Alluvium

18.Beset

19.Thunder Heralds

20.Tempest

21.Ephemera

22.Radial

23.Counsels

24.Assault

25.Redemption Draws Nigh

26.Great Sunderings

27.Tectonic Shift

28.Losses and Gains

Epilogue

APPENDICES

APPENDIX ONE - GLOSSARY

APPENDIX TWO - CHARACTERS

APPENDIX THREE - PLACES

About Brandon

Also By Brandon

Dedication

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This story is dedicated to Conrad Lund.

A superb example of grace under fire.

A supremely creative man.

A wonderful father.

We miss you.

Acknowledgements

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Writers are a curious people. Few things are more mentally painful than creating characters, dialogue and worlds out of nothing. Yet, few things are more exciting and deeply fulfilling. This story was all of that for me. The fact that it is Book Two—representing the second volume in what must then be a series—is, well, amazing. And scary. Plus delightful.

As was true in The Quest for the Temple Key: Book One in the Gargoyle Chronicles, this story’s greatest influence has been my daughter. But unlike the first volume, All His Wrath has been long-expected by more readers than just her. What is most special is that because of Book One’s impact on her, she developed her own skill as a fantasy novelist, publishing her first novel, NeverSeen; Book One of the Faeland Legends in 2014. It immediately won an award and received a strong recommendation from our local newspaper’s book critics.

As always, the enduring support of my wife has helped me pursue my passion for writing. She graciously permits me absurd amounts of time in my writing cave. Then she gleefully reads whatever I’ve woven together over too many hours. Without her constancy, giving up would be too easy.

Several truly wonderful professionals helped bring you something better than I am capable of. My heartfelt thanks to each of them:

Stacy Ennis and Kim Foster are superb copyeditors. And they are wonderful friends.

We're grateful to Stuart Bache for his amazing cover design training, which provided the tools for our publishing team at Prepare For Rain Press to create the cover you have in your hands now.

Shiloh Schroeder and Rachel Langaker took lots of ink and white space and morphed it into a lovely interior.

I’ve been blessed by many fans of the gargoyle realm. I thank you all for your enthusiastic, rock-solid support. To all of you, my enduring gratitude.

Brandon King

Boise, ID

2015

Revised 2023

Chapter one

Disturbed

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Bother, she exhaled quietly into the darkness of her bedroom. Fourth night in a row.

Danielle didn’t like the new dream any more than the old one. With the destruction of the Key of Kahrnahrgx, she thought she’d no longer have those awful nightmares. As she bitterly wiped the sleep from her eyes, she realized how wrong that assumption was.

She sat up sluggishly, rotated her legs so they swung over the side of the bed, and hopped to the floor. Although she knew better than to look at her alarm clock, she glanced anyway.

Double bother! she grumbled. It was 3:52 a.m. She stared at her clock, motionless except for the movement of her lips as she muttered under her breath.

A thump from the darkest corner of her room brought Danielle out of her spin-cycle of gloom. Quickly, she dropped to her knees. Quiet, girl! she whispered, patting her legs softly.

In the dim light of the waning moon falling through the window blinds, an enormous dog appeared out of the shadow, canine nails clicking on the hardwood floor. Her tail wagged gently, almost dreamily. The great beast nestled her nose into Danielle’s neck and rubbed against the teenager for a moment. Then, she sat down before her mistress, her eyes level with Danielle’s.

Hi, girl! I’m sorry to have woken you up again, so early in the morning… Danielle’s words came unevenly as she struggled through the weariness that builds over several nights of interrupted sleep. Oh, but that’s a good Anja. The dog’s tail swished back and forth across the floor, while her mistress gave Anja a long hug and many loving pats on her head.

Anja had been added to the Wheelens’ household within one day of their return home from their terrible adventure. It was crazy to think about: the strange key her parents had unearthed during an expedition just before Danielle was born was actually from another race of creatures. Gargoyles had burst into their lives, some seeking the key to complete its evil purpose, while others protected Danielle and her parents in her quest to destroy it. Still, their house was destroyed early on in the struggle. When Danielle’s parents met with the police to file a report on what happened to their old house, they came up with a convincing story that didn’t include gargoyles. Then, they had to meet with their insurance agent, too, about what would be covered—and what wouldn’t—and when they could get into a new house. To the great relief of the Wheelen family, the fire department had already concluded that something went terribly wrong in the kitchen that had led to the fire that destroyed most of their house. But even with those important meetings during that first day back, they made sure to get to the pound to find a dog. As big and fiercely protective a dog as they could find.

The staff at the shelter introduced them to Anja, an unusually large Akita. This breed was known to make excellent guard dogs, being suspicious of strangers but very affectionate towards their own family. Anja and Danielle hit it off instantly. Danielle loved Anja’s dark, wide and thoughtful eyes, bordered by a heavy coat of brown and black, all the way back to her corkscrew tail. When Peter, Danielle’s father, found out that Anja weighed nearly as much as he did, he took a deep breath, smiled wide at his wife and daughter, and declared, Perfect! Amy, Danielle’s mom, had smiled back, her eyes filled with tears. Anja barked enthusiastically.

For several months, they had stayed with friends. Good friends, indeed, to let Anja stay there, too. Danielle remembered her mother’s tears when the insurance agent had come over and informed them that their old house was condemned. It would have taken too long to wait for their house to be rebuilt. And because they all knew the real reason the house was destroyed, they really didn’t want to remain at that location, anyway. So, on the weekends, when her parents weren’t grading their university students’ papers, the Wheelens ran all over town with Ms. Sally, their real estate agent, in her compact car.

It had nearly driven Danielle mad looking at house after house after house for more weekends than she could remember. But she was so happy with the house her parents chose. It was a two-story building, with a beautiful, granite flagstone floor on the ground level and hardwood floors at the top of the stairs, where all the bedrooms were. Some of her friends thought it was strange that her new house didn’t have any carpet at all. They also thought it was weird that you could hear a pin drop, even between floors. Danielle had even proven it to them. But then Danielle’s friends didn’t know why that acoustic characteristic was so vitally important to the Wheelens.

The backyard was large, because their new house was at the edge of town, where the lots were large. This made the commute to the university longer for Peter and Amy. But the trade-off was that Anja had room to play with Danielle, which both of them loved to do as soon as Danielle got home from school. Peter liked the chain-link fence, not for its beauty, of course, but because he could see long distances through it. Even though there was little risk of anyone—or anything—sneaking up on their home through the open fields beyond the fence, Peter liked the idea of both Anja and himself being able to see that far.

So it was that the Wheelens spent several months getting all moved in to their new house. Naturally, their moving was different than most people’s moves, since it meant replacing just about everything they’d had in their old house. In the weeks that followed, the family established comfortable routines and habits. Enough so, in fact, that they’d just about lost all of their anxieties about the disastrous adventure that destroyed their home and nearly cost Danielle her life.

That was, until Danielle’s nightmares came back.

Well, girl, she whispered to Anja. Should I tell them? Mom and Dad, I mean. I suppose they’d want to know that I’m having creepy dreams again. But I hate to do that. It’ll ruin Mom’s day. Maybe her whole week. She’ll get pretty upset, you know?

Anja kept quiet and wagged her tail back and forth through the moonlit stripes on the floor.

OK. You’re right, Danielle continued. That will be up to her, whether she freaks out or not. Dad always helps with that. Although he probably won’t like the news much, either.

Anja licked her mistress’s hand encouragingly.

Good girl! Danielle patted her dog gently. "It really is too early to get up. I’m crawling back into bed. Come on, Anja!"

Moments later, Danielle was breathing quietly, straight as a post along the edge of her bed. Anja was happily sprawled across most of the bed, her breath warming Danielle’s neck.

The enormous dog gazed out the window as best she could through the partially closed wooden blinds. Maybe her sleepy eyes were playing tricks with her. But Anja was certain she’d seen something perched on the roof peak of the Rumples’ house. It is big enough to be Mr. Rumple! That could not be right, could it? Anja wondered. As sleep stole over her, Anja determined she must nose around the neighbors’ house the next morning. I will investigate. I will sniff things out. I… Anja began snoring softly.

She didn’t see the grotesque shape on the roof turn and stare through her mistress’s window. She didn’t see two eyes blaze red.

Chapter two

Haunted

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In spite of her disrupted sleep, Danielle woke up feeling refreshed. Yet she was a bit cramped from being wedged up against the edge of her bed for the past few hours, due to Anja’s bed hogging. When she hopped onto her bedroom floor, Anja quickly followed by leaping off the bed full of spunk and mischief. Danielle grinned wide at her wagging friend. Both girls—human and canine—tore down the hallway at a sprint, turned hard at the wide stairwell and vaulted down the steps as fast as their legs (two and four) could carry them. Halfway down the steps, Danielle grabbed the wrought iron handrail and hopped over it, landing on the entry’s polished floor just before Anja slid wildly into the kitchen next to it.

Peter, his cup of coffee hovering just a few inches from his mouth, had first listened to the ruckus overhead, and then witnessed the unbridled glee of his daughter being chased by their enormous dog. Grinning from ear to ear, he said, Well, looks like your summer gymnastics class taught you how to dismount properly! Then, he took a big gulp of coffee.

What on earth was that? Amy’s voice bellowed down the stairs from the master bedroom. A moment later, she came shuffling around the corner. Her tousled hair lay heaped wildly over her pink and exceedingly fluffy bathrobe. Giant bunny slippers, in matching pink, slid loudly back and forth beneath the robe. Peter loved that his academically brilliant and fiercely competitive wife wore such outrageous sleepwear.

One guess, he grunted, quickly standing up to give Amy a peck on the cheek as she shuffled by.

Of course. I needn’t ask, really, Amy intoned with mock solemnity. She bowed towards her grinning daughter, who had just gotten the toaster going. I suppose you had something to do with it, too, didn’t you, Anja?

Anja said nothing, but her jowls formed what appeared to be a smile. Then, the dog leaned into Danielle so hard that Danielle slid a few inches across the somewhat slippery floor.

Well, Amy continued, now in a truly solemn tone, just make sure you always land with your knees bent, Dani, OK?

Yes, Mom. Danielle had heard enough times about the damage she could cause to her legs by a bad landing that she could probably present it back to her mother, verbatim.

Danielle’s toast popped up and she set to slathering them up with butter and jelly.

By now, it was nearly 7:00 a.m. The sun was out and it looked to be a wonderful day. Everyone would be out of the house within the next forty minutes. Or at least they should be if they were to be on time. But the look on Amy’s face stopped Peter’s cup of coffee midway to his lips the second time this morning.

What’s up, Ames? You feeling off today? You look kind of pale.

Amy shuffled her slippers on the floor as if she couldn’t get comfortable. Then, she leaned heavily onto the granite-top island, her hands propped against the cool stone. Peter and Danielle, sitting on stools on the other side of the island, glanced at each other and waited. Something was coming.

Finally, she looked up at her family. "No…well, yes. Oh, bother. I don’t know how I feel! All I know…is…darn it! I haven’t wanted to say anything about it. You know, because of last time. Right? But it’s just that—I hate to bring this up at all—it’s just that I’ve been having nightmares the past four nights!" Her eyes were wide; her forehead furrowed with worry.

What? Peter replied. Why haven’t you said anything until now, Ames?

For the same reason I haven’t, Danielle interjected, sheepishly. I didn’t want to cause any alarm…

You, too, Dani? Her father looked troubled. But there was something else in his look that—

What is it, Dad?

Uh, well, the thing is…so have I.

Oh, dear, Danielle and Amy said, simultaneously.

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Danielle quickly unlocked the front door and breezed through the quiet house. Anja was already wiggling with excitement, staring from the other side of the sliding glass doors that opened onto the backyard. Her mistress flipped the latch, slid the door open and burst through the back door. The two of them leapt, laughed, chased, growled, sprinted and rolled for the next fifteen minutes, until both laid on the cool autumn grass, panting hard with their tongues hanging. After a brief rest, Danielle attached a leash to Anja’s strong leather collar. Her dog still needed a good, long walk, even after such a rumpus.

OK, girl. Let’s go!

Anja was well behaved on a leash. She didn’t pull, mainly because she wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere. She loved going for walks with her family. The other reason she didn’t pull was because she knew better. She weighed about the same as her master and, of course, was much stronger than any of her humans. It wouldn’t be difficult for her to hurt them by pulling. So, she didn’t. Instead she matched her pace to her mistress’s—which, today, was oddly uneven. She glanced up at Danielle and could tell her person was distracted.

Indeed, Danielle had found it difficult to concentrate on her studies at Parkside Junior High. Normally, she was a top student. This came quite naturally to her, but there was always pressure to do well because her parents were university professors. Some of her classmates gave her a hard time about being soooo suh-mart! But, most days, Danielle ignored their razzing. Today, she’d pretty much ignored everything. She’d been upset since learning her parents had been having nightmares, too. That was bad enough. But that they’d all started four nights ago—What’s that about? she wondered. That one question had nagged at her all day. Even horsing around with Anja hadn’t dislodged it.

Danielle stumbled, but quickly caught her balance. She’d tripped on a rock jutting out of the dirt path that ran along Heather Ridge Drive, the rural road that passed by their home. Anja looked up again at her mistress. Danielle was muttering, annoyed at the rock.

Split rail fences ran for miles along either side of the road. Many of the folks who lived out on the edge of town, beyond the crowded subdivisions, had a horse or two, even some cows. Quite a few folks in their neighborhood called themselves gentlemen farmers. Danielle’s dad sniffed at this title and said they were mentalmen farmers. He considered all of them—including himself—to be crazy for trying to farm anything as a hobby. Still, they liked the slower pace of life out here and the general neighborliness of the area. For one thing, there weren’t as many cars on the road. So, it was the large number of cars blocking Danielle’s path that should have gotten her attention.

Hey there! Watch where you’re going, lassie! a strong voice hollered.

Danielle’s head snapped up abruptly. She’d nearly walked into the back of a police car! Huh?

Lost in thought, eh? the voice continued, but not as loud since it was now right next to her.

Danielle turned and looked at the man who had warned her. He was a policeman. His eyes were covered with large, dark sunglasses and overshadowed by a dark blue cap. His matching uniform was crisp and clean, but only to his knees. From there down, his pants were covered in mud, as were his shoes. But he was smiling, so Danielle smiled back.

Hi! And thank you for the warning! Uh, yes, I am distracted, I guess. More than I realized, Danielle laughed nervously, feeling self-conscious. Over the patrolman’s shoulder, she could see other men clustered closely together in the field behind the fence. So, what’s going on over there? she asked.

Never you mind, young lady, the policeman replied. It’s a police matter. Nothing for you to be concerned about. Probably best to head back the way you came. That sure is a big dog you have, he continued, as if seeing Anja for the first time.

Danielle could feel the sudden tenseness in Anja. The dog’s stance was defensive. She growled, glaring at the man. There was a queer, very unpleasant smell wafting over from where the group of men was standing. It made Danielle want to plug her nose. She’d never smelled anything so terrible.

Yes, OK, officer. We’ll be on our way, she choked out. Danielle spun on her heels, grinding them into the dirt, and walked briskly back towards home. She hadn’t gone far when she cast a furtive glance over the fence. She was trying to see between the legs of all those men. What are they looking at? she said out loud. She couldn’t be sure, between all the limbs and the shadows the men’s bodies cast on whatever they were looking at. But it looked like there might be a body of a cow, or perhaps a horse. Whatever it was, its legs splayed up into the air. Oh, that doesn’t look good, she whispered to Anja.

She didn’t know that the policeman had watched her steal a look. She didn’t see him make notes on his metal clipboard before hopping back over the fence and talking to one of the other men.

Their return trip was at a much faster pace, so Danielle was winded by the time they got home. After letting Anja into the backyard to do her business, Danielle ran upstairs. It took several minutes of frantic searching before she finally found her father’s binoculars. First, she tried looking out her bedroom window, but the oak tree blocked the view to the far-off field. Next, she tried the west-facing window in her parent’s bedroom. The view was clear! Quickly, she adjusted the binoculars. Then, she aimed them towards the field and scanned madly back and forth. The men were gone. Whatever they’d been standing in front of was gone. Everything was gone!

Dang it! she yelled. Now we’ll never know what happened over there. Whatever had been there must have been trucked off, because there were deep, dual tire tracks and numerous footprints in the soft soil. A soft clicking sound filtered up the stairs. It was Anja tapping her paw on the glass door. She wanted back in.

Danielle tromped down the stairs, frustrated with not knowing what had happened so near their home. She was certain that it must have something to do with her nightmares—well, all of their nightmares. Without thinking, she threw open the sliding door so hard, it crashed into the huge, rubber safety bumper and slid violently back, just as Anja stepped through the opening.

Anja yelped in fright and leapt into the kitchen.

"Oh, Anja! I’m so sorry, girl! Danielle cried, dropping to her knees and hugging her dog. I’m just upset about what we saw—or didn’t see—this afternoon. Goodness, girl!" What with a few minutes of vigorous patting and snuggles from her mistress, Anja soon forgot about the incident entirely.

Absently, Danielle glanced at the clock by the refrigerator. Oh, no…it’s already 5:15. I need to get cracking on supper. Ten minutes later, Anja had been fed, and a whirlwind of action—with Danielle at the center of the storm—swirled around the kitchen island. By the time her folks got home from the university, she was humming loudly. The Beatles were her favorite!

Anja was lying next to the window, just beyond the path of activity, looking happily at her mistress, her dark sienna eyes shining brightly. She jumped up when Peter and Amy came in from the garage.

Danielle greeted her parents with a big, Hi!

Hi, back, her father replied. He sprawled out onto the couch, dropping his briefcase on the floor, unceremoniously. Wow, what a day! he declared through closed eyes. Amy stood quietly, her nose almost against the front room window facing northwest.

Well, how about you tell me all about it…after I tell you something you won’t believe? Danielle asked.

Honey, her mother said, without turning away from the window, you better hear what we have to tell you first.

Chapter three

Some Enchanted Evening

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Even before the sun set the horizon ablaze in orange flame, the conversation in the Wheelen home fell to ash and smoke. Danielle felt like she’d just witnessed a horrifying car wreck, and then discovered that none of the occupants survived. It was hard to believe what her parents were telling her.

Really? I mean, that’s crazy, Dad!

Honey, we’ve been over this more than once. It’s…

Awful. That’s what it is! Amy interrupted her husband. "We can’t know for sure. Right? Can we?"

Not that I can think of, Hon, Peter replied. In fact, I don’t think we need to. Aren’t we all pretty certain what’s happening?

But Dad! You’re saying that today, just down the hall from your classrooms, the police conducted an autopsy on a…cow? And they did that because the science lab at the university is large enough—and has the best equipment—to handle this kind of investigation?

Yes.

But what exactly do they think they’re investigating? I don’t get that part.

Well, at first, they thought it was a simple cow mutilation. You know, crazy people. Drugs. Nut jobs.

But then they found the farmer, Amy whispered.

And he…was…also mutilated? Danielle asked, her voice a bit higher than normal.

That’s not what Professor Antrim said, Peter replied. We found Doc Ant in the hallway, pale and sweating, just outside the lab room. He said that it appeared the farmer died of a heart attack, perhaps caused by fright.

I don’t understand why then…why they think swords were involved, Danielle said, tension swelling her throat. You lost me, she murmured, twisting her hands.

Look, Honey, I don’t know. Your mother and I didn’t actually see—Peter shifted around on the couch nervously—"see the bodies. But they said they’ve never seen anything like this cow before. Even with a sword, they can’t imagine how these…how…how…"

"It was in sections, Danielle, her mother continued quietly. Like it had been dissected. Except with a huge blade, not a scalpel. ‘Intersecting, downward sloping lines, razor sharp,’ Professor Antrim said. Horrible…like it happened all at once."

Danielle felt nauseous. Anja whimpered quietly at her feet. The dog didn’t like the tension in her home.

Except, Peter said, and then paused, eyes closed, for such a long time Danielle wondered if he’d fallen asleep, except for the door to the farmhouse. Indeed, her father’s eyes had a sort of dreamy, faraway look. "It was the door—or lack of it—that drew the attention of the police in the first place. Because where the door had been—you know, just a normal front door, vertical rectangle with a knob, lock, deadbolt, hinges and casing around it—it simply wasn’t there. The door was gone. Poof! Just a perfectly round empty hole where it had been, with light from the front room streaming out of it. Like those hobbits have in that story you’ve been reading, Dani, except what it would probably look like with that kind of door swung wide open. And if it wasn’t strange enough that there was this perfect, circular hole where a rectangular door should be, it was the leftover wooden rings, three of them, each just a few inches wider than the original hole, that’s got the police in a twist. Really puzzled! They’re so perplexed as to what could cut through a door, studs—walls, for crying out loud!—not just once, but four times simultaneously…and in a nice perfect circle." His eyes looked glassy.

And when they went in to check things out, that’s when they found him? The poor farmer. Danielle suddenly found her throat to be very dry.

Yes. That’s what we overheard, her mother answered, just above a whisper.

Later…the cow, her father added. Except not all of it could be found.

Danielle was suddenly cold. She shuddered.

No one said anything for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Anja fidgeted nervously. She didn’t want her people to be fraught with fear. But her own thoughts were troubled by the man earlier in the day, the one that spoke with her mistress. Anja didn’t like the smell that was on him, any more than the stink coming from where the other men stood in the field. She knew that smell. It was a sad smell. Many an evening she’d laid on the back deck since they’d moved in and watched the cow wander aimlessly in her field, contentedly chewing grass. Anja knew she would miss that cow, even though they’d never been properly introduced. But she didn’t like something else about the man in the uniform. What is it about him? she wondered to herself. She realized it would take some time to sort out. Anja wasn’t hasty about making judgments regarding people. There were some dogs that did make snap judgments, she knew, but those dogs also generally snapped at people, too, as a habit. And she’d been raised better than that.

Finally, Danielle stirred. She shifted her weight between her feet, swaying back and forth like an aspen tree in a slight breeze, and looked at her parents intently. After a moment, her voice tightened so it sounded strangled and higher than normal, she blurted out, They’re here, then. Right? Somehow they followed us?

Peter murmured and then slowly inhaled, breathing deeply. It sure looks that way. We’ve been discovered. Our secret is gone.

But is it Kahrnahrgx out there? Amy asked, hysteria shimmering at the edges of her eyes. Or one of his minions?

Peter shrugged and shook his