The School Years Complete Collection. Soman Chainani

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ She pushed on.

      “Help me, Sophie …”

      Now there was no mistaking it.

      Sophie willed herself forward. My mother’s dead.

      “I’m inside …” the voice rasped behind her, weak with agony.

      Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. She’s dead.

      “I’m trapped …”

      Sophie turned.

      The scarecrow wasn’t a scarecrow anymore.

      A man she knew gazed back at her from the wooden cross. Under the black hat, his eyes were gray and pupil-less. Instead of hands, he had two meat hooks.

      Sophie paled. “Father …?”

      He cracked his neck and carefully pried himself from his cross.

      Sophie backed up, right into another scarecrow. It was her father too, wresting off his cross. Sophie whirled and all the scarecrows were her father, climbing off their stakes and walking towards her, meat hooks gleaming in chilly blue light.

      “Father—it’s me—”

      They kept coming. Sophie backed against a cross—“It’s me—Sophie—”

      Far ahead, the dove looked back and saw Sophie cowering, screaming, as scarecrows stood peacefully still on the sides of the trail. Agatha yelped—

      Sophie tripped on a pumpkin and fell. She spun to see her father’s face again and again, devoid of mercy.

      “Father, please!”

      The scarecrows raised their hooks. Sophie’s heart stopped—she choked a last breath and closed her eyes to slashing steel—

      Water.

      Cool, pristine water.

      Her eyes fluttered open to a storm.

      The patch was deserted. Just scarecrows on crosses, falling to pieces in rain.

      Hovering high in the storm, Agatha waved her glowing wing and the rain stopped.

      Sophie crumpled to the flooded path. “I can’t … I can’t survive this …”

      Howls in the distance. Her eyes widened.

      The next pair had entered the Forest.

      Alarmed, the dove shrieked back at her and flew towards the Willow Bosk.

      Shivering, Sophie staggered up and followed, shaken that a heart so haunted could still keep beating.

      The long, thin trail through the Sleeping Willows sloped downhill, so Sophie could see the ghostly blue glow of the Tulip Garden at the bottom. One last push and she’d be safe among its flowers. For a moment, she questioned why Agatha hadn’t made her turn into a tree or blade of grass near the gates—then remembered that Yuba had taught them to spot enchanted trees and that grass would be trampled by night’s end. No, Agatha had chosen well. One tulip in thousands. She’d be safe till dawn.

      As Sophie crept through the willows, her eyes darted around for the next threat. But the sapphire trees stood sentinel along the trail, long dangling branches glittering like chandeliers. As she drifted through, leaves shed over her in slow, beautiful rhythm, beads slipping off bracelets.

      Something is here. Don’t be fooled.

      Wolves howled again at the gates and her stomach seized.

      At least four others in the Forest now: Brone, Tristan … then who? Why hadn’t she learned the order! She had to get to the tulips before they found her! Sophie broke into a breathless sprint, chasing the dove ahead. She didn’t notice that the faster she ran, the faster the starry willow leaves shed, showering her in suspicious comets of light.

      Then her head went heavy, her legs weak …

      No …

      Assaulted by leaves, she slowed to a stumbling limp.

      Sleeping Willows …

      Flying overhead, Agatha looked down and screeched.

      Sophie lumbered forward, smelling the tulips … Few more steps …

      She collapsed, the flowers ten feet away.

      Agatha waved her glowing wing, sparking an explosion of thunder. Sophie didn’t move. Agatha tried spells for rain, sleet, snow, but no response. Frantic, she squawked Sophie’s favorite song, a wretched ode to princes and weddings—

      Sophie’s eyes peeked open.

      Ecstatic, the dove kept warbling, more off-key with every note—

      Agatha choked.

      Blue hoods.

      Two in the Thicket, two in the Pumpkin Patch, two more near the gates. She couldn’t tell who they were, but they were all frozen, carefully discerning the precise source of the song they’d just heard.

      Then they started running towards the tulips.

      Agatha glanced at Sophie, splayed in dirt—then at blue hoods coming to kill her—

      On the ground, Sophie dug her nails into earth and nosed forward a few inches.

      Sensing her escape, the willows shed faster, paralyzing her muscles. Agatha flailed helplessly, dove beak whipping between Sophie and her hunters.

      Panting, grunting, Sophie clawed herself through the last patch of willows, dirt turning to loamy petals beneath her. Exultant, she collapsed into big, blue flowers and inhaled their scent, reviving instantly. She shoved a tulip bud in her mouth, grabbed Agatha’s note from her pocket, finger glowing pink—

      “FLORADORA FLEUR—”

      She froze.

      Across the Tulip Garden, Brone and Vex smiled back at her, two tiny white fish thrashing in their hands.

      “That’s how you’re going to kill me?” Sophie snorted. “Fish?”

      “Wish Fish,” Brone corrected, fish turning black in their hands.

      “And we wish to be Hench Captains,” Vex smirked.

      The boys hurled the fish into the air—instantly they ballooned big as Sophie’s body and dove for her, snapping piranha teeth—

      Petrified, Sophie closed her eyes, felt her finger burn—

      Poof! Her pink fox dodged the swollen fish, which careened off the ground like bouncing balls. Sophie sprinted for her life between them, paws slipping on tulips—

      Faster! Need something faster! Her finger glowed, ready to help. Cheetah! Lion! Tiger!

      Poof! СКАЧАТЬ