Rock Candy: An Ordinary Magic Story Page 5

  This was the god, Death. This was not the vacationing deity who had opened a kite shop in our town.

  “Do you see something on the sign that says ‘Stay off the fence, except for you, Death’?” I asked him.

  “Perhaps I am not here for the fence.”

  “I’d guess you’re not.” Despite my heart which was racing with fear, because, hello: Death, I moved closer to him.

  He shifted so that his long legs swung over to the side where I was standing, his black shiny shoes touching down into the rocks and tough old sea grass that went instantly brown from his touch.

  He wore a hooded cloak, but the hood was pushed back, his dark hair slicked and perfect, his eyes absolutely riveting. Beneath it, he appeared to be wearing an old-fashioned tuxedo, black on black on black.

  The only color on him at all was his skin. White. Pale. Bloodless as a shadow.

  The wind stirred his cloak. It was bitter and biting, but not to him. To him, it appeared to caress, to surround, to worship.

  “Are you looking for Delaney?” I asked.

  “You would assume so.”

  “I would and do. She’s the only Reed who can bridge you to your mortal self. The only Reed who can help you put down your power so you can stay here. Vacation here.”

  “Perhaps I am not here to vacation, Daughter of Reed.”

  “All right. Then perhaps you want to tell me what you are here for.”

  Those eyes, which had seemed cool and distant ticked down to meet my gaze. It was everything I could do not to look away.

  “I wish to be invited to the Halloween event.”

  Okay, that got me. I laughed. “Seriously?”

  He arched one eyebrow.

  Right. Seriously.

  “We...the party that the gods usually throw? That’s not happening this year.”

  “There is an event. It is planned near the harbor.”

  A chill washed over me again and it had nothing to do with the wind. “There are going to be kids there. A lot of little kids.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I am aware.”

  “You can’t...” I stopped because yes, yes he could. He could come to the celebration. He could take the life of anyone there. Because he was death. The big “D” death. And it was his job, his power, to end life.

  “Ah,” he said almost gently, though still too cold. So cold. “You see that I can, indeed.”

  And while it was making me a little panicky, along with angry and frustrated and horrified to know he only wanted to come to the festival to kill someone, I wasn’t getting that sickening end-of-the-world feeling that told me we were in for a truly awful thing.

  The sound of a Jeep arriving in the parking area and pulling up right next to my truck gave me hope.

  “Delaney’s here,” I said.

  “It would appear so.”

  “She won’t let you kill someone. She’ll tell you you can’t.”

  “And why so ever would I listen to her?”

  I flashed him a big grin. “Because she’s your favorite and you like her.”

  He blinked, both eyebrow slipped up. Yeah, he could act surprised, but I knew how he looked at her. She’d even told me he’d all but admitted he liked her. Liked being here. Liked being mortal.

  But this was not the powerless, mortal Than leaning against the fence on the edge of the world. This was Death.

  A door shut. Boots crunched on gravel and then sand. “Thanatos,” Delaney said. “You can’t be here for ten more months.”

  Delaney stopped right next to me, shoulder-to-shoulder, facing off against the god of death.

  I could see the slight shift in him. The relaxing of his shoulders, the sharpening of his eyes. He was happy to see her. Perhaps even delighted.

  Something in my chest unwound a little. This would work out. This would all work out.

  “You can not tell me where I walk, Reed Daughter.”

  And Delaney did that thing. It was the same thing Dad used to do. She went from looking like a police chief who had everything under control to something more.

  She took a single step forward and somehow looked taller, stronger, a lighting-struck figure cracking with a power that pulsed up from deep within the ground beneath her feet, as if all of Ordinary, all the world, stood at her back, facing him. Facing the storm.

  This was her power. Her ability to stand in front of any god and tell them to take a hike.

  It was now, just like it had always been, pretty amazing to see.

  It made me so proud of our family. It made me so proud of her.

  “You are not going to walk this town, my town, as a mortal, Thanatos.” Her voice was even and hard as hammer on steel. “And if you’re here as a god, then I need to know why. You’ve never shown up like this before. There must be a reason.”

  “You know what my power is, Reed Daughter. I am here for just that. My business is my own.”

  “No,” I breathed, and I could see Delaney’s shoulder hitch a little from my reaction. “You don’t get to stroll in here and kill someone,” I went on, ignoring the fact that he could do exactly that because that was the one thing he actually did. “You’re not going to take some little kid. You’re not going to take someone I love. You’re not going to take one of my friends.”

  Death’s gaze slipped from the challenge in Delaney to the worry in me. He exhaled, once. It was as much of a gesture of yielding as I’d ever seen from him.

  “Bring me the head.”

  “The...head?” Delaney asked.

  “You aren’t going to kill him are you?”

  “Who?” Delaney turned toward me, the first time she’d looked straight at me since she’d arrived. Her eyes were blue, but sparked with that aqua and gold of the Reed power that rolled through her.

  “Headless Abner.”

  “The gnome? You found him?”

  “Someone found him. Or released him. A part of him. What do you want with the gnome?” I asked Death.

  He raised one eyebrow. “Bring him, and I will show you.”

  When neither of us moved, he pursed his lips, and then said, “I will not harm him. Yet.”

  Another second, two, five clicked by. Finally, Delaney nodded. “Where is he?”

  “In the truck. Hold on.”

  I wasn’t worried about leaving Delaney with Death. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he’d have done it the moment she’d arrived.

  Plus, a part of me wondered if he’d come back now, so soon after having to leave, because he’d missed her. Missed our little town that he’d only spent a couple of months getting to know.

  The box was in the front seat. I picked it up and was standing beside my sister in a few seconds.

  She glanced at my hands. “Let me see.”

  I opened the box.

  Her eyebrows notched together and the wind whipped the stray strands of her long brown hair out of her face. “Abner.”

  “Abner,” I agreed.

  “Where’d you find him?”

  “Bertie had him.”

  “Did she do this to him?”

  “No. He was brought to her this way.”

  Delaney’s gaze met mine. Yeah, there was something weird about the town Valkyrie ending up with a long-lost gnome head. Especially since she hadn’t wanted to reveal her delivery source to me. Delaney’s gaze told me I’d need to do some follow up.

  My gaze told her I’d do it but only if she bought me extra candy.

  She told me to stop acting like a kid.

  I told her to stop acting like my mother.

  “Daughter of Reed. The gnome head.”

  I handed him the box.

  He reached inside and withdrew the head, holding it propped on just the tips of his long, boney fingers.

  “Wake, gnome. And speak.”

  I felt the frigid push of his power. Delaney shivered, and I knew whatever I’d felt, she’d felt magnified by a hundred.

  “Gnobody puts Abner in a box!” Abner’s voice was creak
y and sharp. His face, while still full of cracks and divots, was fully life-like. He was down to one eye, half a nose, and a lopsided beard, but he didn’t seem to notice nor was he bothered by the remodel.

  “This,” Death said with grave patience. “Is a very dangerous creature.”

  Delaney and I waited. I bit my lip to keep from laughing in his face. One tiny giggle got away from me.

  She elbowed me, and I coughed to try to cover it up.

  Death sighed.

  That did it. I laughed. “It’s a gnome,” I said. “All the gnomes in Ordinary come to life in October.”

  This,” Death jiggled the head, and Abner gave a little yodel, “is not alive, nor is it dead. It is a zombie. I am here on business. To kill it...”

  “Gnoooo!” Abner squalled.

  “...but it has already infected others,” Death finished.

  “What?” Delaney asked. “How?”

  We all stared at the head.

  “It’s gnot what you’re thinking,” Abner insisted. “I was just an innocent head. Out for a midnight roll. And who did I find myself clunking into but my buddy Johan? And then, well, one thing led to another and...”

  “And?” I demanded after he’d been quiet for too long.

  “I bit him.”

  “What?” Delaney said.

  “Just a gnibble.”

  “You ate your buddy?” I asked.

  “He just...smelled so good. His foot was right there. Right there in front of my face. Then his foot was in my mouth, and it was candy. Sweet rock candy.”

  Delaney groaned. “Zombie gnomes? Of course we have zombie gnomes. How do we deal with them?”

  “There are options,” Death said.

  “I’ve been out checking on the gnomes every night,” I said. “Making sure they’re all where they belong. They seem the same to me.”

  “They are not.”

  Was he lying? He had done it before, as it was the only way to take down an asshole vampire that nearly killed my sister. So while I’m generally against lying, I was fine with his duplicity in that one case.

  But why would he lie about this? About gnomes?

  “How did Abner go zombie in the first place? Another curse?” Delaney asked.

  “A beheading, a burying, a bite.” Death listed it off like a boring oatmeal recipe everyone knew how to make. “But unless the power that originally created this false life—”

  “—false!” Abner squawked.

  “—is found, they will rise on Halloween night undead. Permanently undead. Zombies for all time, day and night, shambling through these streets for as long as the earth circles the sun.”

  Which meant we’d be on gnome duty for life. “That sounds—”

  “Gneat!” Abner cheered.

  “I was going to go with annoying,” I said. Pulling gnome duty for a month of nights was bad enough. If we didn’t stop this zombie threat in its tracks, we’d be chasing down these little buggers forever.

  So. Not. Happening on my watch.

  “We have to find whoever, whatever made them,” Delaney clarified. “And make them break the curse? Is that the only way to opt out of the dawn-day-and-dusk of the dead?”

  “There is one other way to end this.” Death’s dark eyes glittered.

  This was what he really wanted. This was what he had come to Ordinary for. I braced for it.

  “You shall invite me to the Halloween celebration. If the power that brought the gnomes to life has not been found by then, I will bring the unliving to a peaceful end.”

  “You’ll turn them back into statues?” Delaney asked.

  “We’re statues?” Abner demanded.

  “I would indeed,” Death said.

  “And you can’t do that right now because?” I asked.

  “The veil between worlds is the thinnest on Halloween. On that day, the power that grants them life will be within my reach to affect.”

  “Also you want an invitation to the party,” Delaney said.

  “Only as a matter of business, of course.”

  Out of all the deaths in all the worlds, this zombie gnome situation was the one that needed Thanatos’s personal attention.

  “Bullshit,” I coughed.

  Death gave me a look. He couldn’t fool me. He wanted to party here in Ordinary on the spookiest day of the year, ‘cause he was sort of adorable like that.

  I winked at him. His expression turned droll.

  “You know it’s a costume party,” I wheedled.

  “Oh?” So much feigned disinterest.

  “You’ll have to come in costume.”

  “If I must.” He sniffed.

  Yep. He wanted to come to the party and had found a way to work around Ordinary’s rules. Clever.

  “You have to give your word that you are not the one who turned the gnomes into zombies and started this mess in the first place.”

  Delaney gave me the side-eye. That’s right. I knew how to cop.

  “I assure you,” Death said, and I felt the weight of truth in his words. The wind stopped blowing, the air got heavier, and it was hard to breathe. “I have nothing to do with the unliving state of these Ordinary gnomes.”

  Okay then.

  “Who you callin’ ordinary?” Abner squeaked.

  “You know who did this, don’t you?” Delaney asked.

  “Did what, Reed Daughter?”

  “You know who put the curse or whatever this is on the gnomes.”

  I didn’t think Death was going to answer. But she crossed her arms over her chest and there was that presence around her. As if every Reed in history were standing with her, behind her, lending their strength. As if all of Ordinary from the mountains to the sea were standing with her staring him down.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Who?” she demanded. “Who gave these gnomes life?”

  “A jinni. A very powerful one. Many, many years ago.”

  “And does this jinni live in Ordinary?”

  “Currently? No.”

  “Does this jinni have a name?”

  “Many.”

  “No name,” she said, “no party invitation.”

  “Are you blackmailing me, Reed Daughter?”

  “Not yet. What was the jinni’s name?”

  “Faris.”

  “Okay,” Delaney said. “That’s something we can work with. Thank you.” She held her hand out. Death extended his arm and dropped Abner’s head into her palm.

  Abner went instantly still. He was a statue once again until sunset when he’d rise and try to accidentally eat some other friend’s foot.

  “Consider yourself invited to the Haunted Harbor and Harvest Festival. We’ll see you in a couple days?” Delaney asked.

  “Yes,” Death said. “You will.”

  Just like that, he was gone.

  The air temperature rose several degrees all at once and I shivered. I hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten.

  “Not my fault,” I started.

  “I know. We need to track down anything we can get on this Faris. I’ll have Myra look through the books.”

  Delaney turned, handed me the head, which was cold, heavy, and rough as if it were nothing more than inert concrete.

  Poor Abner. He’d certainly had better days.

  “And what do you want me to do, boss?”

  “I need you to keep Abner out of trouble. Do another patrol on the gnomes. Make sure none of them have their toes bitten off.”

  “What about Death?”

  She stuck her hands in her coat pockets as she started back to the Jeep. “We’ll deal with him when he shows back up.”

  “So you’re going to let him into town?”

  She shrugged. “The gods can come into town if they want. They just can’t put down their powers and stay unless I say so.” She opened the Jeep door. “Stop worrying, Jean. We’re good. We’ve got this.”

  Chapter Eight

  We did not got this.

  I found three gnomes with
missing toes that night. Abner, who I’d propped on the dash of my truck so he could confirm his previous nights’ munchie victims, went through the five stages of zombie grief: denial, acceptance, hunger, more hunger, and knock-knock jokes.

  Seriously.

  “Gnock-gnock.”

  “Nope.”

  “Gnock-gnock.”

  “Shut up, Abner.

  “Gnock-gnock.”

  The three other zombie gnomes I’d had to tag and bag were stowed on the passenger side floor of the truck. They chanted, “Gnock-gnock, gnock-gnock! Gnock-gnock!”

  “No.”

  “Gnock-gnock,” Abner asked again.

  Fine. “Who’s there?”

  “Police.”

  Why did this feel like a trap?

  “Police who?”

  “Police let me bite somebody again.”

  Oh, the peanut gallery squirming in the duffle on the floorboards thought that was hilarious.

  “Okay, that’s it. You’re getting the box.”

  I picked him up, careful to keep my fingers away from his mouth, stuffed him in the box, then set him down on the floor with the others.

  Silence. Finally. I still had a few more houses with yard decorations to zombie proof before I went back to the station. So far it didn’t seem like the zombie gnomes had spread the bite-and-switch very quickly or very far.

  Lack of knees really slowed down total zombie domination.

  Maybe we’d caught the zombie situation in time before it became something too annoying for words.

  “Gnock-gnock,” four voices called out at once.

  Or maybe not. I swallowed a groan and turned the radio up louder.

  Chapter Nine

  I filed reports, made Hatter give me back Abner, who he’d kept on the corner of his desk while he handled his own paperwork.

  Hatter, the traitor, actually liked knock-knock jokes.

  I hated him a little.

  Dawn came late in October, so Abner was still animated by the time my shift was over.

  “Want me to keep him?” Hatter asked.

  “No. He’s my problem and basically patient zero. I’m keeping an eye on him.”

  “We could lock him up in evidence with the duffle-bag gnomes. There’s a safe back there.”