Fiends on the Other Side (Disney Chills 2)

Released from the dark magic, the gators quickly retreated into the bayou, consumed by the murky depths. Riley and Jamal waited until they were sure they were gone, then clambered down the tree and swam to the banks of the swamp.

“Oh, my child, are you hurt?” Grandma DeSeroux said, stooping down to pull Riley into a hug. The crystal on top of her staff glowed. She checked her grand-daughter over for injuries.

“Grandma, we’re fine,” Riley said. “But we wouldn’t have been for much longer if you hadn’t found us….”

“The shadow man,” Grandma DeSeroux said in a sharp voice, her strange blue eyes narrowing when they fell on Jamal. “This is his dark magic. I’d sense it anywhere. I tracked it out here and found you.”

“Yup, that’s what we thought, too,” Riley said with a nod.

“But he rarely ventures into my bayou,” Grandma DeSeroux said with a frown that deepened the wrinkles in her brown skin and made her look even older. “He knows better than that. What’s drawn him out here?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Riley said. “This is my friend Jamal. Dr. Facilier cursed his brother and turned him into a shadow.”

“A shadow curse?” Grandma DeSeroux said, raising her eyebrows. “That’s not something you want to mess with.”

She raised her staff, casting a halo of reddish light that fell over Malik, making his shadow form stand out. Her eyes widened in fear when she saw him; then they shifted to Jamal.

“Oh, no, my child,” she said. “I fear that your brother is already fading. We don’t have much time. Quickly, follow me!”

* * *

“Children, hurry!” Grandma DeSeroux said in an urgent tone. “This way!”

Riley’s grandmother led them through the bayou, using the light from her staff to guide the way. Despite the thick underbrush, roots that threatened to trip them with each step, and marshy earth, she was sure-footed and moved quickly.

Jamal was the one who struggled to keep pace with the old woman. He slipped, then righted himself at the last minute. Mud sloshed up his legs. He followed right behind Riley and her grandmother while Malik stuck to him like a second shadow.

Somehow the swamp feels less scary with her leading the way, he thought.

He glanced from Riley to her grandmother, taking in their appearances. In spite of their age difference and their haircuts and clothes, he could see the family resemblance. It had something to do with their eyes. Even though Riley’s were brown and her grandmother’s were that odd blue, there was a sharpness in both. A glint. It was as if they could both really see things.

Suddenly, he heard something rustling in the trees behind them.

The skull necklace exploded to life with reddish light, glowing underneath his shirt. His heart thudded faster.

“The dolls!” he said, glancing back into the thick darkness of the bayou.

Riley gasped. “Oh, no, they must be following us.”

She reached back and clasped his hand. Her palms were slick with sweat. He felt a jolt when their hands met, but this time it wasn’t fear—it was something else altogether. It felt powerful and deep, like something almost magical. But what does it mean? he wondered.

“Stubborn little creatures,” Grandma DeSeroux muttered, turning around and wieldin

g her staff. “They’re not easily deterred—not once they’ve set their sights on what they most desire.”

“Most desire?” Jamal repeated, swallowing hard against his fear.

“My child, you must have something the shadow man greatly desires,” she said, leading them deeper into the bayou, “or he wouldn’t chase us this far. He knows this is my territory. I fear he must be growing stronger. Usually the protections would keep him away.”

The rustling drew closer; then the dolls burst through the trees. Their faces looked horrific—lopsided, with button eyes, stitched mouths, and slits for noses.

Their eyes locked on to Jamal.

Moving with incredible speed, they scrambled from the underbrush toward him. Some scaled the trees, rustling through the branches overhead. Soon they’d spring on him.

He shut his eyes, bracing for the attack, when he heard Grandma DeSeroux’s voice.

“Foul creations, begone,” Grandma DeSeroux boomed out, producing more silver dust. She blew it at the dolls. The dust clouded the air, obscuring the dolls from their view.