Days Gone Bad (31 page)
Cara clapped her hands together and smiled. “It’s stronger than we hoped.” She turned to Ashley. “Child, do you have a strong gift for auras.”
“No, never.” She shook her head as she answered.
Cara nodded once and turned back to me. “Happy birthday, Damian, I hope it serves you well.”
“Ha! Yeah, I think, I think it might.” I stared at the focus for a moment and shook my head. “Thanks.”
The fairies just laughed.
“There is more,” Foster said.
“Really?”
“A gift from Glenn,” Cara said.
My stomach did a little flip flop. “Is he going to feed me to a kraken or something?”
Ashley snorted as Foster literally fell over laughing.
“Yeah, well, not so funny if he actually does feed me to a kraken,” I muttered.
“Take a look at your staff,” Cara said. “Look closely at the ferrules.”
I picked the length of carved wood up from its resting spot against the wall. New runes I didn’t recognize stared back at me. Two off center and curved horizontal lines with a slash connecting the pair, centered inside a psychotic Celtic knot. I furrowed my eyebrows and touched the symbol with my hand and a wisp of power. A second later I remembered Glenn had carved it and my hand sped back to my pocket to hide.
“He did it last night while you were asleep,” Aideen said.
“That’s not creepy at all.” I tried hard not to shiver at the idea of Gwynn ap Nudd looming over me in my sleep. After a stampede of goosebumps ran over my skin, I managed pretty well. “What’s it do? It didn’t do anything when I touched it.”
“Pick up the focus, then touch it,” Cara said. “Oh, and point the hilt somewhere safe.”
“Why do I nee-,” I started to say as my right hand grabbed the hilt and my left hand slid over the symbol on the ferrule. A surge of power tore through me as the staff started siphoning a nearby ley line and an aural blade erupted from the hilt. In the center was the solid red blade I expected, but wrapped around and through it was a cacophony of blue and gold and silver filaments. The entire blade vibrated and the power washing away from it electrified the air. I let go of the ferrule and the power dissipated. I gasped and stared at Cara.
“Holy shit!” Foster said.
Ashley’s eyes were wide and her mouth was slack. “Holy shit, I could
feel
it.”
I stared at the little etching Glenn had given me and chorused, “Holy shit.”
“It is one of the few true acts of apology I have ever seen from Glenn,” Cara said.
“Wow, I mean, wow,” I said.
Ashley hung around for awhile and helped me eat the cake. Bubbles and Peanut took down a good quarter of the remains in a flurry of crumbs, tongues, and growling.
“That going to make them sick?” Ashley said.
I snorted. “I think they could eat a bottle of Drano and not be sick.”
“Probably,” Foster said.
Ashley shook her head and stroked Bubbles’s back. She immediately flipped over for a tummy rub while her left hind leg twitched in the air.
I caught a huge grin on Cara’s face as Ashley was playing with Bubbles. “Good sign?” I asked the fairy.
“Oh yes.” Cara said as she nodded. “She is a good person to be so close to the cu sith.”
“She is a good person to bring cake.”
Cara gave me a lopsided grin.
The phone rang a minute later, about four hours before I was planning on closing the shop.
“Sam’s awake. Get over here,” Zola said with a throaty growl.
My heart leapt and I slammed the phone down. “I’m sorry, Ashley, I have to go. Sam woke up.”
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to drop your cake off. I’ll stop by again soon.” She waved again and the bell jingled as she went out the front door.
“You coming?” I asked the fairies.
“Ye-”
Cara cut Foster off and said, “No. Go, Damian, be with your sister. We’ll see her soon.”
I waved as I flipped the sign to “Closed” on the front door, locked it, and ran over to Vicky.
***
I pulled into the driveway at the Pit fifteen minutes later. Way too fast, but I couldn’t wait to see Sam. Despite everyone’s assurances she’d be fine, I was still worried. I had to see it with my own two eyes.
The front door was unlocked and I caught Vik’s smile as I blew past him in the entryway. I pounded down the steps two at a time on my way to Sam’s bedroom, the first door on the right in the dim hallway.
Sam had her legs hanging over the edge of the bed and a bucket in her lap. Her hair was pulled back loosely behind her ears and her skin was even more pale than usual, making the slightly darker patch of vampire on her neck stand out even more. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps. I was surprised to see something like shame cross her face. I didn’t see Frank anywhere.
I stood in the doorway for almost a minute, just staring at her, still alive, or whatever she was, and basked in the relief of it. I sat down on the bed beside her and held her in silence for a while.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I squeezed her shoulder and stood up. “You remember anything?”
She shook her head. “Zola filled me in, but I don’t remember it, not any of it. I think she ran out to get some pizza.” Her voice was weak and scratchy. “Your arm … I hurt you.”
“Is
that
why you’re moping around with your head in a bucket?”
She smiled as a thin trickle of tears washed down her cheeks.
“Stop it,” I waved my left arm in circles, grinned, and then flipped her off. “See? Everything works fine.”
She laughed then, quiet and small, but it was reassuring nonetheless. “Only you could work giving someone the finger into a pick me up.” She sighed and shifted back to lean on the headboard.
“Where’s Frank?” I said. “You didn’t puke him into that bucket, did you?”
A tiny smile crept over Sam’s face. “He went to get Vik a ferret.”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Eric is a former bookseller, guitarist, and comic seller currently living in Saint Louis, Missouri. A lifelong enthusiast of books, music, toys, and games, he discovered a love for the written word after being dragged to the library by his parents at a young age. When he is not writing, you can usually find him reading, gaming, or buried beneath a small avalanche of Transformers. For more about Eric, see
www.daysgonebad.com
.
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