As he took that step, he heard Mrs. Griffin say something about leading the way; then he was blinded by the chill of the mist, and the sound of her voice became a garbled whisper.
Carna’s shrieks were not so hushed, however. They pierced the murk, skewering Harvey’s thoughts the way its teeth would skewer his head if the beast caught up with him.
“Wendell?” Harvey yelled. “It’s coming for us!”
He caught a glimpse of a figure up ahead of him, then of Wendell’s face, smeared by the mist, turning to say:
“There’s no way out!”
“There has to be!”
“I can’t find it!” Wendell said, his reply almost drowned out by the din of Carna’s shrieks.
Harvey glanced back the way he’d come, more afraid not to know how close the creature was than to see it, however terrifying the sight. A veil of mist swirled in front of him, but he glimpsed Carna’s form as the beast descended. It was the most monstrous of the brood: its skin rotted and stretched over barbed and polished bone, its throat a nest of snaky tongues, its jaws set with hundreds of teeth.
This is the end, Harvey thought. I’ve only been alive ten years and five months and I’m going to have my head bitten off.
Then, from the corner of his eye, a strange sight. Mrs. Griffin’s arms, reaching into the mist, and dropping Blue-Cat to the ground.
“He’s got a good sense of direction!” Harvey heard her say. “Follow him! Follow him!”
He didn’t need a second invitation. Nor did Blue-Cat. Tail up, it padded off, and Harvey hauled on Wendell’s arm to drag him in pursuit. The cat was quick, but so was Harvey. He kept his eyes glued on that bright tail, even when the rush of wings behind him announced that Carna had entered the mist and was almost upon them.
Two strides; three strides; four. And now the mist seemed to be thinning. He heard Wendell whooping for joy—“The street!” he yelled, “I see it!”—and the next moment Harvey saw it too, the sidewalks wet with rain and shining in the lamplight.
Now he dared look back, and there was Carna, its jaws a yard from them.
He let go of Wendell’s arm and pushed his friend toward the street, ducking as he did so. Carna’s lower jaw scraped his spine, but the beast was moving too fast to check itself, and instead of wheeling around to scoop up its quarry it flew on, out into the real world.
Wendell was already there.; Harvey joined him a moment later.
“We did it!” Wendell yelled. “We did it!”
“So did Carna!” Harvey said, pointing up at the beast as it rose against the cloudy sky and turned to come back for them.
“It wants to drive us back inside!” Harvey said.
“I’m not going!” Wendell cried. “Never! I’m never going in there again!”
Carna heard his defiance. Its blazing eyes fixed on him and it came down like a thunderbolt, its shriek echoing through the midnight streets.
“Run!” Harvey said.
But Carna’s stare had rooted Wendell to the spot. Harvey grabbed hold of him and was about to make a run for it when he heard the beast’s cry change. Triumph became doubt; doubt became pain; and suddenly Carna wasn’t swooping but falling, holes opening in its wings as though a horde of invisible moths was eating at their fabric.
It labored to climb the air again, but its wounded wings refused their duty, and seconds later it struck the street so hard it bit off a dozen of its tongues, and scattered half a hundred teeth at the boys’ feet. The fall didn’t kill it, however. Though agonized by its wounds, it hauled itself up onto the spiky crutches of its wings and began to drag itself back toward the wall. Even now, in this wretched state, it was ferocious, and with snaps to right and left drove Harvey and Wendell out of its path.
“It can’t survive out here…” Wendell realized aloud, “…it’s dying.”
Harvey wished he had some weapon to keep the beast from returning to safety, but he had to be content with the sight of its defeat. If it had not wanted their flesh so badly, he thought, it wouldn’t have come after them at such speed, and brought this pain and humiliation upon itself. There was a lesson there, if he could only remember it. Evil, however powerful it seemed, could be undone by its own appetite.
Then the creature was gone, a curtain of mist drawn over its retreat.
There was only one sign remaining of the mysteries that lay on the other side of the wall: the face of Blue-Cat, gazing out at the world that he, like all the occupants of the Holiday House, could never explore. His azure gaze met Harvey’s for a moment; then he looked back toward his prison, as though he heard Mrs. Griffin’s summons, and with a sorrowful sigh turned and traipsed away.
“Weird,” said Wendell, as he stared at the rainy streets. “It’s as though I never left”
“Is it?” said Harvey. He wasn’t so sure. He felt different; marked by this adventure.
“I wonder if we’ll even remember we came here in a week’s time?”
“Oh, I’ll remember,” Harvey said. “I’ve got a few souvenirs.”
He dug into his pocket in search of the figures from the ark. Even as he pulled them out he felt them crumbling, as the real world took its toll on them.
“Illusions…” he murmured as they turned to dust and ran away between his fingers.
“Who cares?” said Wendell. “It’s time to go home. And that’s no illusion.”
XIV .Time Was
It took the boys an hour to reach the center of town, and there—given that their houses lay in opposite directions—they parted company. They exchanged addresses before they did so, promising to contact each other in a day or two, so that they could each support the other’s account of the Holiday House. It would be difficult to make people believe all that had happened to them, but perhaps they’d have a better chance if two voices told the same tale.
“I know what you did back there,” Wendell said just before they parted. “You saved my life.”
“You would have done the same thing for me,” Harvey said.
Wendell looked doubtful. “I might have wanted to,” he said, somewhat abashed, “but I’ve never been very brave.”
“We escaped together,” Harvey said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Wendell brightened at this. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess that’s right. Well…be seein’ ya.”
And, with that, they went their separate ways.
It was still several hours before daybreak, and the streets were virtually deserted, so for Harvey it was a long, lonely trudge home. He was tired, and a little saddened by his farewell to Wendell, but the thought of the welcome he’d get when he reached his own doorstep put a spring in his heels.
Several times he wondered if he’d gone astray, because the streets he passed through were unfamiliar. One neighborhood was extremely fancy, the houses and the cars parked outside them slicker than anything he’d set eyes on. Another was virtually a wasteland, the houses half rubble, the streets strewn with garbage. But his sense of direction served him well. As the East began to pale, and the birds in the trees started their twitterings, he rounded the corner of his street. His weary legs broke into a joyful dash, and brought him to the step panting for breath and ready to fall into his parents’ arms.
He knocked on the door. There was no sound from the house at first, which didn’t surprise him given the hour. He knocked again, and again. Finally a light was turned on and he heard somebody coming to the door.
“Who is it?” said his father from behind the closed door. “Do you know what time it is?
“It’s me,” said Harvey.
