"Good job, Hugo," Seth said, coming up the steps.

With that same irregular exhalation, Hugo pantomimed how the goblin had bounced and spun across the yard. Seth found himself laughing as well.

"What's going on?" hissed a voice from inside the manor.

"Intruder!" Seth called in a commanding voice. "Cease your activities and come out this instant!"

A moment later, Nero appeared in the doorway, glaring until he saw Hugo. His eyes then fell on Seth. "Good evening to you," the troll said in his deep, silky voice.

Seth switched on his flashlight. The troll had a reptilian look about him, his glossy black scales highlighted by yellow markings. The nostrils of his snout flared, and his cunning eyes narrowed. His formidable muscles bunched as he coiled into a tense crouch.

"Why are you looting the manor?" Seth asked.

"Go ask your mentor," the troll replied, his tone reasonable despite his edgy posture. "Graulas ended the treaty. You can't blame an old trader for seizing an obvious opportunity."

"Graulas left me in charge," Seth said, inventing as he went. "He had to undo the treaty in order to leave Fablehaven. But he'll be back. And he wants the manor as his residence."

Baring rows of needle teeth, Nero glared at Seth suspiciously. "You openly serve him?"

Seth displayed no uncertainty. "My family abandoned Fablehaven. I stayed behind. I have much to learn. Graulas sent me to make sure his future home remained secure."

Nero became fidgety. "I had no way of knowing ..."

"I don't blame you," Seth said. "You've helped me in the past. Help both of us tonight. Spread the word that nothing in or around the manor is to be touched. Same with the main house at Fablehaven, especially the dungeon. Graulas knows every item in both houses, and he will show no mercy to any who claim his prizes."

"Knew it was too good to be true," Nero mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Seth asked, a hint of warning in his voice.

"It will be as you say, young master Sorenson," the troll answered obsequiously, inclining his head. "Naturally, for your sake, these words had best be proven faithful when Graulas returns."

"Was that a threat?" Seth bristled. If he was going to bluff like this, he needed to play the role convincingly. "Maybe a conversation with a shade would relieve your doubts."

Raising his webbed hands, the cliff troll finally looked truly intimidated. "No need for unpleasantness."

"You're the one causing unpleasantness," Seth snapped. "I was going easy on you. I guess you vermin only speak one language. Hugo, let's see if trolls can fly as far as goblins."

The golem grasped Nero by his torso, turned, and flung him out into the yard like a football. Seth used the flashlight to follow the trajectory of the troll as he soared in a long arc. The cliff troll righted himself in the air, spreading his arms and legs like a flying squirrel. Extendable fins fanned out to help him glide. When he landed over fifty yards away, Nero rolled adroitly and ended up on his feet.

"Don't let me see you again," Seth barked, turning his back on the troll and entering the house. Not far from the door lay a bulging sack crammed with candlesticks, silverware, and other household treasures. Behind Seth, Hugo squeezed through the doorway.

"Is he leaving?" Seth whispered after a moment. "Yes," Hugo confirmed quietly.

Seth sagged. "Good. I'm glad he landed all right. I didn't want to be mean. I wanted to protect our property and keep dark creatures away from us. Thanks for backing me up."

"Hugo help."

"You sure did." Seth shouldered the heavy sack and lugged it to the pantry, where it would be slightly more hidden. Regardless of the message he had shared with Nero, there would probably be more looters. No need to make their job easier. "Let's find the stairs to the cellar."

Hugo leaned his head back searchingly. "Come."

Flashlight brightening the way, Seth followed Hugo to a locked door. A nudge from Hugo broke it open, and they descended the stairway beyond. Barrels, crates, and boxes cluttered the webby basement. The flashlight beam revealed an iron door on a nearby wall. Seth wondered if it led to a dungeon.

They located the fireplace without much effort. Hugo swiftly brushed some large barrels aside to clear a path for Seth, stirring up dust and making sheets of cobweb flap and tear. Seth ducked into the fireplace and recited, "Everybody loves a show-off."

Immediately the back of the fireplace turned to dust. Seth walked through the insubstantial barrier, particles swirling in his wake, and passed into a tunnel with rock walls braced by wooden beams. The air in the man-made tunnel was noticeably cooler. Hugo followed on hands and knees.

They proceeded along the passage, the ground sloping constantly downward. After some distance, the tunnel widened into a spacious natural cavern. A gentle stream trickled across the lowest part of the room, appearing from under one wall and vanishing beneath another. The flashlight illuminated several chests, a bed, a desk, a safe, camping gear, stacked crates, a few barrels, and a large table covered with maps.

A green, corked bottle on the table caught Seth's eye due to the large white label on it with SETH written in bold letters. He crossed to the table and picked up the bottle, then unfolded the note he found underneath, scanning the succinct message.

The contents of this bottle are meant only for Seth Sorenson.

Seth worked at the cork with his thumbs but could not get it to budge. Digging into his emergency kit, he got out his pocketknife, selected the corkscrew attachment, and twisted it into the cork. After a good tug, the cork came unplugged with a hollow pop, and colored gas started gushing out of the bottle.

Seth set the bottle on the table and backed away, briefly concerned that a saboteur had turned the message from Patton into a poisonous trap. But a moment later, as the gas finished flowing from the mouth of the bottle, it gathered into the form of Patton--old, wrinkled, and semitransparent.

"Patton," Hugo rumbled.

"If this is Seth," the Patton cloud said, "try to touch me." Seth strode forward and passed a hand through the gaseous figure, creating a temporary disturbance in his midsection.

"Very good," Patton said. "I'm glad we managed to connect. Our friend Coulter delivered a most disturbing message earlier tonight. Based on the scant available evidence, we managed to deduce what had transpired. We assume the group sent to rescue you failed, losing the Translocator, which was then somehow entrusted to you along with the Sands of Sanctity. Meaning well, you went and healed Graulas, who stole your artifacts and then went on to steal the Chronometer. Forgive me if our deductions were incorrect, but it was the only way we could reconcile the sudden wellness and freedom of Graulas with your unexpected presence at the edge of the yard."

"Can you hear me?" Seth asked hopefully.

The gaseous Patton continued speaking as if no question had been asked. "Coulter expected to lose his life upon his return to your time. He took it like a man. I expect if you're listening to this message, you're dealing with his recent demise. You're feeling alone and desperate, and you could use some advice. I'm sorry there can't be any actual communication between us. I'm not much more than a talking letter. I could have simply written this message, but I figured you could use the company, even if it was just an illusion. In addition, candidly, I have too much time on my hands these days. Creating this gaseous monologue was an engaging proposition.

"Seth, against all odds, I've lived a longer life than most men. And like any thinking man, I've tried to figure out the meaning of my existence. Closest I've ever come is deciding that the purpose of life must be to learn to make wise choices. I believe that, and try to live by it.

"In my opinion, good choices are not always safe choices. Many worthy choices involve risk. Some require courage. You elected to heal Graulas. Seth, I believe that had I been in your shoes, with your knowledge, I would have done the same thing. I imagine you thought you were easing the departure of Graulas from this world. The demon had aided you in the past, and you were granting him what seemed a small favor. Had you known enough to anticipate what might happen, it would have been a poor choice indeed. But I've mulled it over, and I understand your decision. So did Coulter.

"Making mistakes is part of learning to choose well. No way around it. Choices are thrust upon us, and we don't always get things right. Even postponing or avoiding a decision can become a choice that carries heavy consequences. Mistakes can be painful--sometimes they cause irrevocable harm--but welcome to Earth. Poor choices are part of growing up, and part of life. You will make bad choices, and you will be affected by the poor choices of others. We must rise above such things.

"Although cataclysmic at a glance, your choice might have some benefits. Getting Graulas involved shuffles the deck for the Sphinx. Clever as he is, he would not have seen this coming. The Sphinx certainly was not the one who loaned you the artifacts. If he had the Translocator, all he had to do was bring a force to Fablehaven, recover the

Chronometer, and proceed with his plans to open Zzyzx. I expect your decision has disrupted his calculations. If that is the case, it could create opportunities.

"I knew you for only a short while, Seth, but I was impressed. You are my kind of person. When guys like us make mistakes, we clean up the mess. It will not be easy, it may not even be possible, but I'm going to make some drastic suggestions based on things I might attempt in your situation. Do with my ideas what you will."

The gaseous Patton gave a little smile. "Your family is trapped. Your enemies are on the move. The world is on the brink of destruction. I suggest that you save it."

A tingling thrill went through Seth. He liked where this was headed.

"If I were you, I would consider the artifacts gone and work under the assumption that my enemy will succeed in opening Zzyzx. When that prison opens, I would want to be on hand to oppose the demon horde."

Goose pimples rose on Seth's arms. Could he do something so bold? Wouldn't the demons trample him?

"You will need a weapon. In this case, I would think big. I would try to find Vasilis, the Sword of Light and Darkness, the most fabled blade of which I am aware. Remember the name: Vasilis. Say it to yourself." Seth whispered the word. "This storied blade reflects the heart of the wielder. In the hands of a virtuous shadow charmer, I expect it would be quite powerful.

"I once sought Vasilis, but since I had no pressing need for the weapon, I abandoned the quest. I do not know where Vasilis lies, but I believe it is hidden in our region of the world. I imagine the Singing Sisters could send you in the right direction. Your grandparents would have my head for suggesting that, but you need a weapon of this magnitude, and you have no time to find it without assistance. The Sisters only help others for a price, and it is always steep, but I have visited their lair thrice, and here I stand.

"There is no way to prepare for a meeting with them. They will bargain with you. If you fail to reach an agreement, they will take your life, so be very careful. In an envelope in my desk drawer, you will find the latitude and longitude of their residence. The Singing Sisters dwell on an island in the Mississippi River, protected by a gentle distracter spell. They have resided there for a long time.

"You will also require passage to Shoreless Isle, where Zzyzx lies. Again, the latitude and longitude are included in the envelope, but they will do you little good. No ordinary ship can sail there. I have been to Zzyzx, aboard a ship I would rather forget. I required the help of a necromancer. You will not, if your mind is firm. The ship you must seek is crewed by the undead, and such will hearken to your instructions. To summon the Lady Luck, you must journey to Hatteras Island off the coast of North Carolina and follow the guidelines in the envelope. Before you can carry out those instructions, you will need to collect a bell, a whistle, and a music box from a certain leprechaun at Fablehaven. You'll find more details in the envelope.

"You may want companions on your adventure. Hugo should be able to leave Fablehaven. After he was granted a will by the fairies, he never covenanted to remain. Of course, Graulas may have overturned the treaty, in which case any of the creatures could come and go as they please. Choose your companions carefully. Based on my recent conversations with your grandparents, I believe Vanessa may be an asset worth using, but I will leave the ultimate decision in your hands.

"I also recommend you practice soliciting help from the undead. In the same drawer as the envelope, I left copies of keys to the Fablehaven dungeon and the Hall of Dread. If the treaty is broken, recruit a wraith to stand guard over the dungeon. Although help from phantoms is generally undesirable, in your case, it would be wise. You need the practice, and your cause is sufficiently desperate. There are certain entities in the dungeon that you do not want released. When dealing with the undead, make sure they vow loyal service, and make sure all of the particulars are settled. Appoint limits, establish rewards. They thirst for the living, so an obvious reward for standing guard is the right to claim any victims who come along. That sort of thing. If the dungeon is inaccessible, you could also conscript liches from the Grim Marsh. Hugo knows the way. Should you travel there, be sure to stay on the wooden walkway. Hopefully it has been kept in good repair.

"Should you require further aid, as I suspect you might, consider finding Agad, the wizard in charge of Wyrmroost. Unbeknownst to most, he is one of the five wizards who founded Zzyzx. He may be able to provide wisdom in dealing with this threat. None wish to see those demons remain in confinement more than he.

"You now have all the ideas I have managed to compile. Use whatever makes sense. No doubt you will devise other strategies on your own as the situation evolves. Ephira should effectively safeguard my communications to you until less than a year before your hour of need arises. I trust you will find my messages undisturbed.