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I laughed, steadying her as the actor disappeared again.
“That one get you?”
“Only because I was concentrating on the scenery. I hadn’t realized the decorations were going to become so aggressively involved.”
She was still laughing when we moved into the next room.
The attraction carried us through a series of elaborate scenes. One resembled a broken-down boiler room, complete with hissing steam effects and a rattling machine that looked ready to shake itself apart. Another had been dressed as a darkened storage area, with shelves of strange objects and the occasional hidden figure waiting to startle unsuspecting visitors.
Peyton was an excellent haunted-house companion. She startled easily, but she recovered quickly and seemed just as interested in admiring the effects as she was in being frightened by them.
At one point, she stopped to examine a particularly convincing piece of mechanical equipment.
“Look at the way they’ve arranged the lighting. It makes the entire thing appear to be moving even when it isn’t.”
I leaned down to follow her gaze.
She was right. The shadows created a convincing illusion of motion, and I was impressed by how little machinery was actually needed to produce the effect.
Then something clattered loudly behind us.
I jumped.
Peyton turned toward me, her face lighting up with delight.
“Oh, that was wonderful. I finally got to see you startled.”
I shook my head, laughing.
“Somebody’s got to keep the place interesting.”
She was still smiling when we continued into the next section.
The final rooms were decorated like an overgrown forest, with artificial tree trunks and hanging branches obscuring the walls. Pale green lights flickered through the leaves, casting strange patterns across the floor.
Peyton studied the scene with obvious appreciation.
“This looks remarkably like the forest in our book. I almost expect Isadora to step out from behind one of those trees.”
“Let’s hope she knows where she’s going. I wouldn’t trust Drake to find his way out without setting something on fire.”
She laughed and moved closer, slipping her hand into mine.
We’d nearly reached the next doorway when a costumed figure lunged from behind a tangle of branches.
Peyton gave a tremendous scream and threw herself against me.
I caught her around the waist, laughing as the actor vanished into the darkness.
She looked up at me, her glasses crooked and her cheeks bright.
“I’m beginning to think I should charge admission for my contribution to the sound effects.”
“You’ve certainly been giving them their money’s worth.”
She straightened her glasses and smoothed her coat, then took my hand again.
By the time we reached the exit, I’d laughed so much that my face hurt.
