Empty Smiles

Description

New York Times bestselling author Katherine Arden thrills once again in the finale to the critically acclaimed, bone-chilling quartet that began with Small Spaces. Now in paperback.

It’s been three months since Ollie made a daring deal with the smiling man to save those she loved, and then vanished without a trace. The smiling man promised Coco, Brian and Phil, that they’d have a chance to save her, but as time goes by, they begin to worry that the smiling man has lied to them and Ollie is gone forever. But then a terrified and rambling boy who went missing at a nearby traveling carnival appears with a message for the trio from the mysterious man who took him: Play if you dare.

Game on! The smiling man has finally made his move. Now it’s Coco, Brian, and Phil’s turn to make theirs. And they know just where to start. The traveling carnival is coming to Evansburg.

Meanwhile, Ollie is trapped in the world behind the mist, learning the horrifying secrets of the smiling man’s carnival, and trying everything to help her friends find her. Brian, Coco and Phil will risk everything to rescue Ollie—but they all soon realize this game is much more dangerous than the ones before. This time the smiling man is playing for keeps.Praise for Empty Smiles:

“For a fully fearful adventure, pick up this . . .chilling ghost story . . . certain to keep even the bravest readers up until the sun comes up.” —B&N Reads

“The terror continues for Ollie, Coco, Brian, and Phil in this frightening series finale. . . Arden never disappoints with her thrilling, spine-tingling scenes and this book is full of them. First came scarecrows, ghosts, and monsters, but she has saved the best for last: evil clowns! Verdict: Fans of the series won’t be disappointed.” —School Library Journal

“Arden once again flexes her gift for atmospheric writing to envelop readers in the story’s eerie mist. The expert use of pacing and sensory cues—sights, sounds, and smells—helps heighten the genuinely terrifying chase scenes. Chess matches and conversations between Ollie and the smiling man humanize the shape-shifting villain, exposing just enough of his motives to wrap up unanswered questions. . . A thrilling and chilling end to a standard-setting series.” —Kirkus Reviews

“The final book in Arden’s quartet that started with Small Spaces (2018) deliciously ramps up the scares. . .Fittingly creepy. . .the unsettling atmosphere will delight middle-grade horror fans who want to send a chill up their spines.” —Booklist

“Delivering an atmospheric, scary carnival horror with nail-biting twists and turns, Empty Smiles is a spooky, sinister and satisfying conclusion to the beloved Small Spaces series. Readers looking for answers, an epic showdown and intense scenes that are sure to induce goosebumps will get their money’s worth!” —The Nerd Daily

Praise for Dark Waters:
An Amazon Best Book – August 2021

“Arden skillfully blends a creature feature with a survival tale, taking the series into new territory without deviating from its successful formula. The deliberate pacing maintains a palpable sense of dread, equally anxiety-inducing and terrifying. . . Another deliciously hair-raising entry in a series that continues to make a huge splash.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Describing the creepy setting where all the action takes place with cinematic detail, Arden piles on the terror, weaving in Lake Champlain history and pirate lore.” —Buffalo News

“The ending definitely ramped up the stakes once more and I’m now anxiously awaiting the conclusion to this dark, creepy middle-grade series. If you haven’t picked up this series yet, now is the perfect time to do so, if only to suffer with us all through the wait for the final book.” —The Nerd Daily

“Genuinely spooky . . . Arden’s expert pacing and vivid descriptions ratchet up the tension deliciously, build eerie atmosphere, and make for some truly scary moments . . . [and] a tense cliff-hanger, which will leave readers on the hook for the next installment.” —Booklist

“Those who are attracted to mystery, adventure, and spooky stories will be drawn to this sequel like a moth to a flame.” —School Library Journal

“In this hair-raising novel . . . middle-grade readers, ages 8-12, and their adult reading companions, will be thrilled, and frightened, by this latest adventure. . . This is a very fun, and eerie, read-aloud.” —Addison County Independent

Praise for Dead Voices:

★ “Arden handily transforms the haunted house story into something much richer, scarier, and more sinister. . . Middle-graders who thrill to spooks and scares will find plenty (maybe even more than they bargained for!) here.” —Booklist, starred review

★ “Arden’s high scare factor, richly drawn mountain setting, relevant themes of loss and belonging, and vividly eerie descriptions evoke the very best of horror for this age set.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review

★ “In this spooky sequel to Small Spaces, Arden excels at creating an atmosphere of claustrophobic tension with memorably menacing details. Readers will again be invested in the ghoulish surprises in store for the resourceful, likably flawed protagonists.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review

Praise for Small Spaces:
★ ★ ★ Three Starred Reviews
22 State Awards
A Kirkus Best Book of 2018 – Middle-Grade
A Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2018 – Middle-Grade
A Chicago Public Library’s Best of the Best Books of 2018
An Amazon Best Book – October 2018
A CCBC Choices List Pick – 2019
An ALA Notable Children’s Book – 2019

★ “Atmospheric horror at its best. Chillingly tender.”—Kirkus, starred review 

★ “With a tantalizing pace and palpable suspense, all nicely grounded in realistic emotions, this well-wrought spine-tingler is destined to be a hit (just makes sure the lights stay on).”—Booklist, starred review

★ “Riveting…The story moves at a good pace with just enough clues to keep the reader intrigued and guessing.”—School Library Connection, starred review

“Is it a mystery? A fairy tale? A horror thriller? As the suspense gripped me, I just wanted to know one thing—WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? Terrifying and fun.”—R. L. Stine, author of the Goosebumps and Fear Street seriesKatherine Arden is the New York Times bestselling author of the Winternight trilogy and the Small Spaces quartet. In addition to writing novels, she enjoys aimless travel, growing vegetables, and running wild through the woods with her dog. She lives in Vermont.Chapter One

Summer in East Evansburg, and a sun like a hot white eye glared down at the cracked and shriveling earth. It hadn’t rained in weeks. Months. The April showers had come on time, but May was dry as dust, and June brought in a thick, sticky heat that refused to go away. The sun parched the new leaves as they opened, and made them curl up like caterpillars on their twigs.

July came, but the rain didn’t. Families’ wells went dry, so they had to truck in water, and the sticky air lay like a hot puddle in houses and never seemed to go, no matter how often they opened and shut the windows. The only people who enjoyed the heat were kids and the makers of creemees. And even for kids, riding bikes around town started to lose its appeal, with the sun glaring down.

Swimming holes were mobbed every weekend.

The East Evansburg swimming hole was on Lethe Creek. A cold green place in the stream where the water slipped under a covered bridge. Little kids liked to play on the rocks there. On really hot days, parents set up their chairs right in the water, dipping their feet and calling to their neighbors.

On a Saturday in late August, the heat lay on people’s necks like a hand. Parents in chairs kept soaking their T-shirts and wearing them wet against the white-eyeball sun. Kids chased dogs into and out of the water. People shouted and people laughed.

Six parents sat with their chairs arranged in a tight circle, right in the water, so their bare feet stayed wet. Three of them were moms, and three were dads.

They weren’t laughing.

“Coco won’t talk to me,” one said. Her blond hair was plaited down her back, and she wore a plaid shirt over her swimsuit, to protect her skin from the sun. Coco was her daughter. “But something’s wrong. I just know it.”

The man next to her had dark, sad eyes. He took her hand but didn’t say anything. He’d had a daughter named Olivia, but she was dead. She’d died in a boating accident on Lake Champlain. Just that May. A few months ago. Sometimes he dreamed that she wasn’t dead. Sometimes he dreamed that she was looking for him. But he knew those were just dreams. She was dead.

He loved Coco, though. Loved her almost as much as the daughter he’d lost.

“Brian won’t talk to us either,” Brian’s mom said. Her swimsuit was orange, her expression serious.

“It’s just—darn it—” another dad said. He had glasses and threw his head back when he drank his ginger ale. His son’s name was Philip Greenblatt. “Something’s wrong, but they won’t trust us with it! They just say, ‘No, everything’s fine, Dad, I’m going to Brian’s for a sleepover.’ Or wherever. But they’re all jumping at shadows. I know Phil isn’t sleeping.”

Coco’s mom said, “Coco cries in her sleep sometimes. She’s been having nightmares. I—she used to talk to me all the time, but now it really is like she doesn’t trust me anymore.” She rolled her drink between her hands without drinking it. The sun beat down on all of them.

“I’m worried,” Brian’s mom said.

“We’re all worried,” put in her husband.

“Especially since those two kids disappeared,” Brian’s mom went on. She lifted her hair off her neck. “Parents have a right to be worried, don’t they? What were their names? Ruth and Tim? Just snatched right out of the Rutland fairgrounds. Awful.”

They all exchanged dark looks. Behind them, most of the kids of Evansburg were splashing and yelling in the water.

Phil’s mother said, “I have half a mind to keep Phil and Mikey home. When the fair comes here this year.”

“Or at least keep a close eye,” Coco’s mom said.

Brian’s mom said impatiently, “But whatever’s bothering the kids—it started before this summer. It started with that field trip last October. Doctor says Brian’s fine, but . . .”

“Maybe we should keep the kids apart?” Coco’s mom said.

The rest of the parents turned to look at her.

She went on, haltingly. “If— Do you think they—that they—I mean, they’re all good kids, don’t get me wrong. And I know they’re best friends. I was so glad to see Coco making friends when we first moved. But maybe they-I mean-sometimes it seems like they’ve built up this imaginary world together. No grown-ups allowed. And it—scares them, somehow? Coco was never a very imaginative kid—she liked books about flowers and insects, for God’s sake—and now she wakes up in the night screaming.”

Hesitant nods all around the circle. Brian’s mom said, “I hate to say it, Zelda, but you might be right. I can’t think what else to do, not unless they tell us—something. We don’t have to be obvious about it, you know? Just keep the kids close to home until school starts. And maybe if anyone does pry it out of their kid, for God’s sake, text everyone else. I hate, I hate not knowing what to do.”

“We all do,” Zelda said.

***

“What do we even do now?” Brian Battersby demanded of his two friends. He wanted to pace in frustration, but the three of them were clustered above the swimming hole, on a small rock ledge right under the trestles of the East Evansburg Bridge. There wasn’t room to pace. His friends, Coco and Phil, were sitting with their backs against the struts of the bridge, their feet dangling. Above them was the shadowy span of the old covered bridge. The water below threw up white glimmers of light that speckled their hands and faces.

Instead of pacing, Brian stood restlessly, shifting from foot to foot. He was wearing green swimming trunks, his nose and shoulders striped pale with sunscreen. His expression, usually easygoing, was one of built-up frustration, his dark eyes narrowed. If it were a different summer, he’d be in the water, laughing, dunking, joking with a crowd of friends. But not this summer.

The bridge vibrated now and again when a truck or car passed overhead. The shrieks of six kids on a dragon floatie soared up from the creek under the bridge.

It was a beautiful spot. Cool. Quiet. The water was icy and clear, and the struts of the bridge half hid the three of them from the crowd at the swimming hole. This ledge had been the favorite sitting spot of a girl named Olivia Adler.

But Ollie wasn’t there. Ollie was gone.

Brian glared down at the water. His friend Coco Zintner said, “For Ollie? We can’t do anything but wait. You know that, Brian.” Coco wore a purple swimsuit. Pinkish blond hair straggled damp over her neck, and her eyes were the same light blue as the August sky. The remains of sparkly polish spotted her bitten fingernails.

Brian said, “I know. I hate it, though.”

“We all do,” Phil Greenblatt said. He had a freckled snub nose and boy-band brown hair that fell into his eyes.

Brian sank back down on the ledge beside his friends. “Why’d Ollie do it?” he whispered. “She didn’t ask us—she didn’t ask us to help her or to try another way. She just—did it. Left us. Chose to leave us.”

Coco said, “Don’t be mad at her. She did it to save her dad. Just like I would have done for my mom, or you for your parents. Maybe she should have talked to us, but Mr. Adler was dying, right there. She didn’t have time.”

“She should have trusted us,” Brian said. He was mad at Ollie. He missed her and he was mad at her. Was that strange?

“She didn’t want us to stop her,” Phil said.

“We’d have found another way,” Brian insisted.

Neither of his friends said anything. None of them knew if that was true.

“We’ll get her back,” Coco said instead, encouragingly. Coco was an optimist. “Remember what the letter said? You have one chance to win her back. Well, we’re going to win, that’s all. We’ll get her back.”

Brian said, “But how? She’s been gone for months. Yeah, maybe the smiling man offered us a chance, but he’s tricky. We don’t know what that chance looks like. Maybe we missed our chance. Ollie’s dad doesn’t even remember what happened. No one remembers but us! Sometimes I think—that she really is gone.”

His friends didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. It was a conversation they’d had at least a hundred times. Brian leaned back against the cool stone of the rock face above the ledge and shut his eyes.

Abruptly, Coco said, “I dreamed about her last night.” Both boys looked at her. Coco went on hesitantly, “She was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. And then someone—someone I couldn’t see—dragged her away. I woke up—I think I was screaming. Mom was there. She looked worried.”

All three of them turned to look at their parents, sitting in chairs in the creek. The grown-ups seemed to be staring back at them: Brian’s parents and Phil’s, and Coco’s mom, and Mr. Adler, Ollie’s dad. Mr. Adler wore the expression of puzzled sorrow that never left his face in those days. It made Brian hurt inside.

All the kids glanced hurriedly away again. “Our parents look like they’re plotting,” Phil said.

Brian shook his head. “Can you blame them? We’re acting certifiably weird. Have been for months. We need to chill them out somehow. Or my mom’s going to keep me at home doing chores until school starts just so she can keep an eye on me.”

The other two nodded, and they lapsed into silence. When Ollie first disappeared, they’d made all sorts of plans. Met up every day. Schemed, collected food, made emergency adventure packs.

But nothing had happened. Now they were just waiting.

Coco stiffened. “What’s that noise?”

Both boys went still, turning their heads to listen. It was difficult to hear any stealthy sound at Lethe Creek on a summer day. There was the roar of the water to contend with, and the rumble of traffic going over the bridge, and the squeals and the laughter as half of Evansburg played in the stream. But Coco, Brian, and Phil sat still and listened hard, and after a few moments, they all heard it.

Furtive footsteps.

Coming nearer.

A rustling in the bushes.

Without a word, they got to their feet. The water rippled past, fifteen feet below. Phil looked ready to jump down and escape. His face had gone so white that his freckles and his sunburn stood out like brown and red ink. Brian didn’t blame Phil for being nervous. They’d been hunted that May, after all. Hunted, and almost eaten. They’d run, they’d hid. They’d survived. But they’d lost Ollie.

Brian and Coco stayed put. Brian bit his lip. He was done hiding.

The footsteps got closer.

Closer.

And then, with a roar, something sprang out of the bushes.

Phil shrieked and fell into the water. Coco lurched backward too, although she didn’t fall. Brian grabbed at whatever it was, only to feel bony limbs and hear a familiar, annoying voice yelling, “Gerroff, Brian, stop it, was just a joke!”

Brian let go and scowled down at Phil’s little brother. Mikey Greenblatt shook himself and started laughing. Mikey was seven, and had a lot more freckles than Phil, but the same brown hair. “Hahaha, you should see yourself! I scared you, didn’t I? Scared your face off!”

Brian was still breathing fast. Coco was still leaning on a strut of the bridge, panting. Neither of them liked being startled.

Phil was below them now, treading water in the creek. “Mikey, what was that?” he bellowed. “When I get back up there, I swear I—”

“Phil, don’t yell at your brother!” his mother shouted from her place in the ring of chairs.

Coco snorted a laugh. “Yeah, you got us, Mikey. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Mikey said, “Um, no. Not when you guys scare so good. I mean, really, you should have seen your—” He broke off. His face changed. He was looking downstream. “What’s that?”

Brian crossed his arms. “Oh no. Nope, absolutely not, you don’t get us again. Come on, Mikey, jump back in the water and leave us—”

But now Coco was looking in the same direction. She held up one hand to shade her eyes. “Wait. Brian, what is that?”

Mikey said, “Is that a kid?”

“It’s a kid.” Coco’s voice had gone strange. “Do you see, Brian? There, just between those rocks.”

Brian followed her pointing finger.

Someone was running up the rocky creek bed. Sometimes on the bank, between the trees. Sometimes wading in the water. Brian saw a torn T-shirt. Bare feet. An open mouth. Wide, panicked eyes. And then he realized that the person was screaming. Screaming for all they were worth, but they couldn’t be heard over the happy squeals of kids in the water of Lethe Creek.

Chapter Two

“Mikey, go get your mom and dad,” Brian said.

“But I—”

“Do it,” Coco snapped. Mikey shut up. Coco had that effect sometimes. Probably because she yelled so rarely. Brian was already jumping. The quickest way off their ledge was to cannonball straight down into the water. Brian had a mean cannonball. He dropped like a rock. Heard twin splashes as Coco and Mikey hit the water behind him. And then Brian was swimming, ducking around the kids on their dragon floatie.

“Hi, Brian!” one of the girls called. He waved back without really stopping.

A few more strokes and his feet touched the rocky creek bed. Coco came splashing up behind him. He could hear Mikey’s high, excited voice as he veered off to the right and hollered at the parents in the ring of chairs.

Phil popped out of the water beside Brian. “What’s up, guys?”

Coco had gotten her feet under her; she pushed her hair out of her face and pointed.

Phil frowned. “Who is that?”

The kid was still running, slipping and sliding on rocks. Now that they were closer, they could hear his sobbing breaths. They hurried to meet him. “Help me. Help me, please,” the kid gasped.

Coco said, “Oh my God. Isn’t that—”

Brian had recognized the kid too. They’d seen his picture in the paper. His and a girl’s. Brother and sister. Tim and Ruth. They’d vanished during the carnival at the Rutland county fair.

Phil said what they were all thinking. “Whoa. It’s Tim Jenkins.”

Tim hurtled the last few steps toward them and tripped. Brian caught him just in time. Tim smelled like he needed a shower. Tears cut the grime on his face. He clutched at Brian. “Don’t let them find me. Please. Don’t let them find me.”US

Additional information

Dimensions	0.6000 × 5.0600 × 7.8000 in
Series	Small Spaces Quartet
Imprint	G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers
ISBN-13	09780593109205
ISBN-10	0593109201
Author	Katherine Arden
Audience	Children
BISAC	JUV039060, JUV067000
Subjects	books for 10 year old girls, best books for 10 year olds, best books for 11 year old girls, scary books for teens, ghost stories for kids, scary stories for kids, campfire stories, scary books for kids, halloween books for kids 8-10, books for 11 year old boys, books for 11 year old girls, adventure books for girls 9-12, books for 10 year old boys, Ghosts, mysteries and thrillers, ghost book, horror books, scary stories, ghost stories, thriller books, thrillers, JUV067000, middle grade, JUV039060, Halloween, horror