Both parts of Sploot Fah came scrambling down the rock wall. When he was about ten feet overhead, he leaped to the floor, landing directly in front of us.
“Nice kitty!” cooed the one on the right, gazing at Luna.
The cat, who was crouched at Lily’s feet, nodded her acceptance of the compliment but said nothing.
“Well, and you must be Sploot Fah,” said Mrs. McSweeney.
“I am!” cried both parts proudly.
“Why did you say ‘Come this way or die’?” I asked.
“Good way to get attention,” said one with a shrug.
“Besides, it’s true,” said the other. “Sploot Fah knows tunnels.”
“Sploot Fah knows digging.”
“Sploot Fah knows many things, including where bad monsters wait for good babies—”
“Also where peoples carrying good babies can get up top safely.”
“And you just happened to be here waiting for us?” said Gnarly. “Sounds kinda suspicious to me.”
“Perhaps you should tell us more,” said Lily gently.
Both halves of the little monster began to speak at once. They stopped, scowled at each other, then began flipping their hands forward. I realized they were playing a game something like Paper, Scissors, Stone. Only instead of phrases like “paper wraps stone,” this one involved terms such as “gimwitz crinkles fludgnuks” and “fludgnuks bash borgle!”
When they were done, half the creature sighed and took a step back. The other half, who I guess was the winner, stepped forward.
“Sploot Fah was suspicious about baby,” he explained. “Sploot Fah had questions. So Sploot Fah followed, sometimes over ground, sometimes under. Then Sploot Fah saw that Mazrak also followed peoples. Sploot Fah don’t like Mazrak, because—”
“Because Mazrak is a booger!” shouted the half of Sploot Fah who had stepped back.
The half who was supposed to be doing the talking shot him a glare. The supposedly silent half clamped his hand over his mouth, then turned his back to us.
Nodding in satisfaction, the speaking half said, “Mazrak is bad. Mazrak is mean. Mazrak does wicked things. Sploot Fah kept following, saw other bad monsters join Mazrak. So Sploot Fah knew bad stuff was coming. Sploot Fah knows paths, knows tunnels, and thought peoples would come this way. So Sploot Fah came to help, just in case, because Sploot Fah is GOOD!”
“Done?” asked the other half.
“Done,” said the speaker.
The part of Sploot Fah who had been facing away scurried back. “Let’s move,” they said together.
“But we can’t climb this wall with the baby!” I said.
Both parts laughed. “Why climb wall? That would be silly!”
With that, they leaped up, grabbed the same handhold I had first spotted, and hung from it.
A chunk of wall about seven feet high and four feet wide tipped toward us.
“Watch out! Stand away!” cried Sploot Fah.
Both parts leaped down and scurried backward as the massive chunk of stone fell to the floor with a deafening crash.
Little Dumpling screamed with laughter.
When the dust cleared, we saw that where the slab had been was a continuation of the tunnel. It stretched into the distance, now dimly lit by lumnifung.
“Opening door is tricky part,” said half of Sploot Fah.
“No, no,” corrected the other half. “Opening door is easy. Opening door without getting squashed is tricky!”
“You say true! Now come on, peoples, come on!”
“But we need to go up!” I said. “To the surface.”
“Go up right here and bad things will happen,” said one of the Sploot Fahs.
“Very bad things,” agreed the other. “Like getting eaten!”
“Sploot Fah’s way will get you up and out,” said the first.
“Plus you won’t be anyone’s dinner!” said the other.
So we followed the pair of creatures, or the creature who was a pair, through the opening. As we did, I took a step closer to Lily and muttered, “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”
“It’s not like we’ve got an instruction book,” she replied. “And Keegel Farzym did seem to think these guys—this guy—were … was! … annoying, but not dangerous.” She frowned, “It’s certainly annoying to try to talk about them. Him! I can never figure out which pronoun I should use!”
“I just hope Keegel Farzym was right,” I muttered. Then I touched the stone wall beside us three times.
“Wait, wait!” cried both parts of Sploot Fah as we continued forward.
“Now what?” asked Gnarly.
“Where you brought up?” asked half of Sploot Fah. “In a barn?”
Mrs. McSweeney laughed. “Your sainted mother used to say the same thing to you almost every day, Gnarly—for exactly the same reason!”
“Have to close door,” explained the other half, to Lily and me.
Looking back, I saw a pair of ropes, one dangling at either side of the opening. Each part of Sploot Fah went to a rope. Once in position, they nodded to each other, then leaped up and grabbed on.
To my surprise the huge chunk of stone rose swiftly and silently, then clicked firmly back into the opening through which we had just passed.
“Easier to close than to open,” said the half on the right.
“Safer, too,” said the other half, dusting off his hands. “But now can go on.”
“And I can stop this stupid glowing,” said Luna, sounding relieved.
“It was much appreciated, darlin’,” said Mrs. McSweeney.
“I’m glad. Even so, I’ll expect some extra treats when we get home. That is, assuming we do get home.”
For some reason, I found the cat’s uneasiness one of the scariest things yet.
As we went on, LD grew fussier and fussier. I started to stumble and realized I was exhausted myself.
I suspected Lily’s grandfather wouldn’t say anything, and I was pretty sure Mrs. McSweeney was tireless. I also figured Lily wouldn’t be willing to admit she needed a break before I did. Telling myself it was LD I was concerned about, not me, I finally said, “Guys, I think we should take a rest. It’s got to be at least two in the morning by our time, and we’ve been through a lot.”
“We can’t stop now!” protested Lily. “We’ve got to get LD back to our world before the dark of the moon.”
“No, Jacob is right,” said Mrs. McSweeney. “If we just keep staggering on, we won’t be in shape to handle anything big that comes at us. And even if you don’t want to rest, that baby needs a break. The little beebums probably needs a diaper change, too … though how we’re goin’ to manage that, I can’t think. Mr. Sploot Fah, do you know a place where we can rest?”
“Sure, sure!” said both parts. “Right here!”
They flopped down side by side on the floor, folded their hands over their chests, and closed their eyes.
“That’s nice, darlin’,” said Mrs. McSweeney, “but what I had in mind was a place out of the tunnel, with maybe a bit of water so we could get a drink and wash up.”
Instantly, both parts of Sploot Fah leaped to their feet.
“Fussy, fussy,” said one half.
“But Sploot Fah knows good spot,” said the other.
“Keep following!” they said together.
We must have walked for another half hour. I almost found myself wishing we had followed Sploot Fah’s first suggestion and just lain down on the tunnel floor. By this point Gnarly was helping to carry the baby. He tried to act like he didn’t enjoy having Little Dumpling in his arms, but I could tell that he did.
Finally both parts of Sploot Fah cried, “Here we go!” and led us into a side tunnel.
Unlike the main tunnel, it had no lumnifung; by the time we had gone a little way in, it was pitch-black.
“Careful,” said one part. “Turn coming up!”
“Keep left hand on wall!” advised the other part. “That way you won’t fall in.”
“Fall in what?” asked Lily.
“Big Black Pit of Bottomless Despair!” said both parts together.