In response to the timid knock on the front door of The House of Mystery, Cain quickly jerked it open, grabbed the chubby man with the dark pointy hair and beard who was standing outside, and pulled him inside by the collar of his grey suit jacket.

"What took you so long?" Cain hissed at his brother, Abel.

"I c-c-came as quick as I c-c-could," Abel stuttered back.

Cain, still holding him by his jacket, led his younger sibling down a hall and into a side room.

"What exactly is th-th-this all about?" asked Abel after he'd been released from Cain's grasp. He surveyed his brother and couldn't believe how unkempt he looked. His glasses were askew, his hair, which was usually perfectly quaffed into two horns, was sticking out in every direction as if someone had been tugging on it with both hands, and his clothes were stained and ripped in several places. Abel knew something must be very wrong. Cain always took great pride in his appearance.

"Oh, brother…" said Abel as he went to hug Cain.

Cain slapped him away.

"I don't want your pity," he said. "And I'll tell you exactly what this is about. It's about Klarion."

Abel gasped.

"You know ab-b-bout Klarion?" he said.

"YOU know about Klarion?" asked Cain, anger creeping into his voice.

"Well of course. I know-"

"You know everyone's secrets," Cain finished for him. "Well you might have mentioned this one to ME."

"I thought it w-w-would upset you. And you m-m-must admit it has," said Abel, meekly.

"Actually," said Cain, suddenly solemn, "I was quite excited once I got used to the idea." He turned away from his brother as a mournful expression came over his face.

"I thought it might be nice to have a little tyke who I could teach and mold into the same fine gentleman I've become."

Abel started to say something, but Cain turned on him with a flash of rage in his eyes.

"OF COURSE THAT WAS BEFORE I MET THE LITTLE MONSTER!" he yelled.

"W-w-what happened?" asked Abel.

"Oh, things were fine at first," said Cain. "I showed him around the house. I told him a little bit about all the mysterious things it contained, how to take care of the place... but he wasn't interested! He mocked me at every turn! I thought at first it was just his mother's oh-so-charming wit coming out in him, but this kid goes beyond just snarky; he's flat out rude! You know he made fun of The House of Mystery? And he says he has no interest in hearing any of my stories. What kind of kid doesn't like scary stories? Especially mine?! I tell you, there's something wrong with the boy."

Abel listened patiently and then chuckled. Cain gave him an icy glare.

"I th-th-think you have to look at things f-f-from his point of v-v-view," said Abel. "I mean, h-h-he's just meeting you for the first t-t-time. There's an adj-j-justment period."

"The adjustment period has come and gone," said Cain. "He's been here for three days and in that time he's flooded two of the second floor bathrooms, set fire to the dungeon, taught the bird in the cuckoo clock to say 'Cain stinks', and I still don't know what he's done with the suits of armor that belong in the library. Plus, don't even get me started on that damn cat of his…"

"S-s-so why have you called me over?" Abel asked nervously. "Do you want I should t-t-talk to him?"

"Sort of. I called you over here because I need you to babysit him while I go out for a while."

"M-m-me?" asked Abel, terror stricken. "Why m-m-me?"

"For one thing, it's convenient, since you live right across the cemetery. For another, you have a certain… way with people. They seem to like you for reasons I can't begin to fathom. Maybe he'll behave for YOU while I'm gone."

"B-b-but where are you going?" asked Abel.

"To visit the three witches," said Cain. "The latest of dear little Klarion's pranks was to turn Gregory to stone. He said good gargoyles should be seen and not heard, so he used his ridiculous witchcraft on him. He claims not to know how to reverse the spell, so I have to go consult with some more experienced magic users. Plus, they owe me a favor."

Abel began to sweat.

"Klarion can do w-w-witchcraft?" he asked.

"Another lovely trait from his mother," said Cain. "Oh, stop shaking. You'll be fine. Now come meet your nephew," he said, grabbing Abel firmly by the shoulder and leading him out of the room.

"Where is h-h-he?" Abel asked, fearfully.

"Down the hall, scrubbing the floor. It's his punishment," said Cain with a grin. It was the first sign of happiness he'd shown since Abel arrived.

Klarion was sitting on the hallway floor with his back resting against the wall when he heard the brothers footsteps approaching. He quickly scrambled over to the mop bucket and scrub brush nearby and began to feign cleaning.

"What is that you're using?" demanded Cain as soon as he was standing over his son.

Klarion looked up at Cain.

"Murphy's oil soap," he said in a tone that indicated that Cain was a moron for asking, and probably jut a moron in general.

"White vinegar!" yelled Cain. "I told you. Oil soap kills the wood."

"I don't know why I'm even doing this," shouted Klarion. He got up off his hands and knees and threw the brush down into the bucket which caused water to splash in Abel's face. "I thought the stupid House of Misery was supposed to be all dirty anyhow."

"Not the floors," said Cain. "The floors are to be washed regularly. Think of it as a therapeutic massage for the house."

Cain walked over and began to run his hand softly over one of the house's papered walls.

"Treat the house right and it shall treat you right in return," he said, smoothly.

"Do you and the house want to be alone?" asked Klarion.

"Just do as I say," snapped Cain. "And I want you to meet your uncle, Abel."

Abel put away the handkerchief he'd been using to wipe his face clean and stuck out his hand to Klarion. Klarion shook it civilly, but eyed Abel with suspicion.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Cain AND Abel. So, what, does that mean my grandparents are Adam and Eve?"

"Just Eve actually," said Abel. "We d-d-don't talk about Adam."

"This family is retarded," said Klarion.

"Be that as it may," said Cain. "I want you to get along with your uncle. I'm going out for most of the evening and he will be watching over you. Make sure you finish all your chores WITHOUT USING MAGIC and then I want you to spend at least one hour before bed practicing your storytelling. You can use your uncle as an audience."

Cain then turned his attention to Abel and pointed his finger at him.

"And you better see to it that he does all that, blubber buns," he said.

"Oh d-d-don't w-w-worry, I w-w-will," said Abel.

Klarion watched this exchange and then gave both men a grin.

"Oh don't worry, father, I think me and uncle will get along just fine. Please feel free to stay out as long as you like."

Cain gave Klarion a sideways glance and then turned and walked away.

"I'll be back when I'm back," he called, as he disappeared down the hall. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

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About two hours later Klarion had finished with the floors and had moved on to his next assigned task. He came into the living room of The House of Mystery carrying an armfull of freshly chopped firewood and began to load it into the room's large, ornate fireplace. Teekl, as usual, was at his side and his uncle Abel sat in a comfy armchair right next to the fireplace reading a book.

For the most part Klarion and Abel had gotten along just fine since Cain left. Both staying out of the other's way. Klarion figured it would be in his best interest to ease his uncle into a false sense of security before moving forward with the plan he'd been hatching ever since the two had met.

"Uncle," he said as innocently as he could.

Abel looked up from his book.

"Yes, K-K-Klarion?" he said.

"I see you're a fan of books. Do you read a lot?" asked Klarion.

"Oh, y-y-yes," said Abel, enthusiastically. "In fact I l-l-love stories in all f-f-forms. Books, movies, plays, c-c-comics-"

"Have you ever heard of a book called Et Non Tanget?" Klarion interrupted.

Abel's face fell and he began to look around himself as if something was going to jump out from behind his chair and grab him.

"Y-y-yes, I h-h-have," he said in a hushed whisper. "In f-f-fact Cain even has that book in his personal lib-b-brary." He thought for a moment and then said, "Oh, I supp-p-pose I shouldn't have told you that. It was a s-s-secret."

"No harm, no foul," said Klarion. "I already saw it in there. What can you tell me about it?"

"You d-d-don't want to know about th-th-that," said Abel. "Good little boys should stay away from such things."

"I am magical, ya know. I could handle any kind of curse, or hex, or whatever that it might have on it."

"Let me t-t-tell you another secret about it," Abel said, leaning down toward his nephew. Klarion put down the piece of firewood he was holding and leaned forward to meet him.

"That book is dangerous," Abel whispered.

Klarion looked into his uncle's eyes for a moment and realized the man was not going to be any help at all. Nonchalantly he picked the piece of wood he had been holding back up and then swiftly swung it like a baseball bat, cracking Abel over the head with it, and fracturing his skull. Abel fell out of the chair onto the floor. Klarion stood up and looked down at his fallen relative.

"Everything is dangerous," he said coldly. "It's no secret."

Then he turned on his heel and left the room with Teekl at his side, as a pool of blood began to form on the floor under Abel's head.

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Klarion, along with his cat, quickly made his way upstairs to the library. With a slight wave of his hand and some magic words he easily unlocked the door to it and stepped inside. Immediately he headed to the book case where, days ago, he had glimpsed Cain put the book he was looking for on the top of. Due to his height, however, he couldn't see it up there.

"Leviatay," he said and began to float off the ground.

As soon as he was high enough to see the top of the book case, all he saw was dust.

"Curses!" he yelled, and fell back to the ground, landing hard on his feet.

He stroked his chin and glanced from side to side.

"If only I hadn't brained that secret keeper, I could make him tell me where it is," he said, either to himself or to his cat.

"Hmmm," he thought, as he looked around the room.

"Treat the house right and it shall treat you right in return," he said out loud, remembering his father's words. "I wonder. After all, the house must know where that old fool hid the book, and he does always treat the thing like its alive. Maybe I can get it to help me… one way or another."

He grinned an evil grin.

"Oh house," he said to the room in general. "I don't suppose you'd do me a small, tiny, little bitty favor would you? I don't suppose you'd show me where the book, Et Non Tanget, is hidden would you?"

Nothing happened. Teekl stared at Klarion, who gave the cat a wicked smile.

"Don't want to cooperate, huh?" he said loudly, grabbing a thick and heavy book off of the nearest shelf. "Fine by me."

He hurled the large book across the room and through one of the libraries large windows, shattering most of the glass.

"I guess I'll just have to take this place apart piece by piece, then, until I find it myself," he said, grabbing another book off the shelf.

Nothing happened for a few seconds and then an eerie creaking sound broke the silence. Klarion and Teekl both turned to the library door which had ever so slightly opened by itself.

"Smart house," said Klarion. He dropped the book on the floor and headed out of the library with Teekl right behind him.

Once in the hall, he looked around for some kind of sign. The only thing he saw, besides some wall sconces and a few closed doors belonging to other rooms, was an old oil painting on a nearby wall. It depicted a pilgrim type man sitting in a chair. Klarion noticed that one of the man's hands, which rested in his lap, was pointing ever so slightly to his right, down the hallway. Klarion and Teekl looked at each other for a moment and then headed in that direction.

At the end of the hall, Klarion was forced to make a right turn, which led him to another closed door. The door creaked open a crack.

"Haha," Klarion exclaimed, and yanked the door open.

Inside was a small closet with a few old coats hanging in it, and on a shelf above them were some board games from the 1960's. Klarion looked up and didn't see the book amongst the games, so he began to feel around in the coats. Finally, in the inside pocket of a brown leather trench coat he found what he wanted, Et Non Tanget, looking just as he remembered it, only now it had a metal padlock on it."

"Psh," he sneered, and shot a small blast of magic out of his finger at the lock. It did not open.

"Sesamah openay," he yelled, and shot an even bigger blast of magic at it. Still it would not unlock.

"God damn it!" he yelled.

"W-w-watch your mouth, young man," said Abel, surprising Klarion from behind. Klarion turned and saw his uncle applying pressure to the bloody lump on his head with his handkerchief.

"How do I open this?" demanded Klarion. "Where's the key? Tell me the secret," he mocked.

"You j-j-just forget all ab-b-bout that b-b-book," said Abel. "Like I told you, and come downstairs with me and I'll make you some nice s-s-soup or something."

"Cain has it with him, doesn't he?" Klarion said, ignoring his uncle. "That's fine. I'll just wait for him to come home and then I'll take it from him."

"Y-y-you'll do nothing of the s-s-sort," said Abel. "You're c-c-coming with me."

"Okay, but can my friend come too?" said Klarion, pointing to something behind Abel.

Abel turned around just in time to have his face met by the business end of a broad sword, swung by a living suit of armor. It cleaved his skull in two and sent his whole fat body forcefully to the ground with a thud where it crumpled in a bloody, dead heap.

Klarion clutched the book to his chest and cackled with glee.