Free Always October by Bruce Coville Page B

barrier.
    â€œYou will need to bring me the baby,” said the monster. “He must return home, and I cannot yet enter the room.”
    I heaved a sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure how long “yet” would last, but at least I had some breathing space. And even though the monster sounded like a grizzly bear might if it learned to speak, his tone had remained reasonable. But why was Little Dumpling screaming and trembling this way?
    â€œBring me the baby!” ordered the creature in the closet. This time his voice held a sharper edge.
    â€œNO!” screamed Little Dumpling, tightening his hairy arms around my neck. He dug in his claws a bit as he did. “NO! NO! NO!”
    As if things weren’t bad enough, at that moment the window slid up and another monster thrust his head into the room!
    That was too much. My legs suddenly working again, I ran for the door.
    It slammed shut in my face.
    Little Dumpling howled in new terror.
    Ignoring the fact that I had missed the lamp and the back of the chair, I touched the doorknob three times and tried to turn it.
    It was frozen in place.
    I struggled with it for a moment, then pivoted and pressed my shoulders against the wood, realizing I didn’t want my back to the monsters.
    Looking to the window, I saw that the new arrival was deep blue. His head was bald, but he had a bushy black beard, so long that it disappeared from sight beneath the sill. A single eye stared at me; a black patch covered the spot where the other eye should have been. Looking directly at me, the newcomer growled, “If you wish to live to see morning, come with me!”
    Though I was sure I wanted to live to see morning, I was not sure that going with this guy was the way to do it. Little Dumpling was no help. Furry face buried against my shoulder, he whimpered, “No, no! Bad, bad, bad!” But whether he was referring to the first monster, the second monster, or life in general at that moment, I couldn’t tell.
    The monster in the closet—the orange guy with red eyes—turned toward the monster in the window. “Do not interfere, Keegel Farzym! You know the baby is ours!” Turning back to me, he bellowed, “Bring … me … that … child!”
    A terrible ripping sound filled the air as the monster thrust his right arm into the room, tearing through whatever invisible force had been holding him back. The smell of sulfur grew stronger. The monster’s hand—enormous and orange, its long fingers tipped with fierce black claws—stretched toward me.
    I heard a pounding on the door and feared it was yet another monster until I heard Mrs. McSweeney shout, “Jacob! Jacob, what’s going on?”
    Frantic, I turned again, grabbed the doorknob with my free hand, and twisted with all my might. “Mrs. McSweeney!” I cried. “Mrs. McSweeney! Help!”
    She stopped pounding on the door. For a terrible instant I feared she had fled, but almost at once I heard her chant some strange words I could not understand. She stopped, and I heard her try to work the knob.
    â€œJacob!” she cried. “Try it from your side!”
    The knob still wouldn’t budge. I wanted to use both hands, but LD was clinging to me so tightly, I couldn’t put him down to try.
    Bracing one foot against the wall, I yanked with all my strength.
    Nothing.
    â€œNo, no, no!” whimpered Little Dumpling again as he tightened his grip on my neck. “Bad! Bad! ”
    That horrible shredding sound repeated. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the orange monster thrust his other arm into the room. He leaned forward, stretching both hands toward us.
    â€œMazrak will break through in seconds!” bellowed the blue monster, the one called Keegel Farzym.
    Mazrak! That was the name Lily had found in my father’s journal, the one who had wanted him to “go to the cave.” Who was he? Was he responsible for my father’s