Fairy Bad Day

chapter EIGHTEEN

Emma hurried over to where her father was waiting by his late-model Volvo. The parking lot was next to the second practice field. People weren’t allowed to come and go as they pleased at Burtonwood, but induction weekend was an exception, and the visitors’ parking lot was already half filled with parents who had arrived for tonight’s dinner. Down on the practice field itself she noticed several groups of students scattered around giving combat demonstrations to interested parents under the glow of the large spotlights that dotted the area.

Loni, Tyler, and Curtis stopped at a nearby wooden bench while Emma covered the rest of the distance on her own.

“Dad, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Her dad hugged her before stepping back and catching her gaze with his pale blue eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you; it’s just, we’re leaving for the airport in an hour and I really wanted to talk to you before we go. I was going to the office to find out where you’d be, but then I bumped into Curtis and he said he’d get you for me.”

“What’s up?” Emma felt her stomach start to churn. Her dad most definitely had his serious face on.

“It’s about your visit last night. I’m so sorry I told Olivia that your induction ceremony was canceled. I know you said that you didn’t mind if we weren’t there, but . . . well . . . I guess I didn’t want her to worry—”

Oh. Right. So that’s what this was about.

“It’s okay.” Emma quickly cut him off, because while it was okay in principle, she wasn’t sure she really wanted him to spell out how important his new life was. In fact, the words “salt” and “wound” made themselves comfortable in her mind. “I know why you did it, so I wasn’t worried.”

“Are you sure?” He seemed to be studying her face, and when she nodded, a look of relief washed over him. For a moment Emma thought about what Curtis had said about talking to her dad, and she felt a rush of guilt go racing through her. At least she had a dad she could talk to if she wanted to. But when she tried to open her mouth, she realized she had no idea where to start, so she just shrugged.

“I’m sure. But why did you come all the way over here just to tell me that? You know there are these crazy inventions called cell phones.”

“Oh yes, those things. Problem is that while I know how to use them, my daughter seems to have a bad habit of not answering her calls or returning her messages. Must be a generation thing.”

Emma winced. “Yeah, I really am sorry about that. I didn’t realize you’d been so worried.”

“I’m a dad. It’s my job to worry. Anyway, the other reason I couldn’t call you is because Olivia insisted that I come out and see you in person.”

“But why?” Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. “I mean, she doesn’t know that Induction isn’t really canceled, so she would hardly tell you to come out and see me about it.”

“No, it has nothing to do with that,” he assured her. “It’s just that last night at about midnight she suddenly decided that the baby’s room was the wrong shade of blue—apparently duck-egg blue and sky blue are two completely different colors. The thing is, she got out of bed and started going through a box to find her color charts, but instead she found one of your mom’s books.”

“She did?” Emma felt her heart start to pound as her dad nodded.

“And to be honest, I thought it could’ve waited until we were back, but Olivia absolutely insisted that if the books were important enough for you to come out and pick them up last night, then it was important enough for me to bring this one straight to you.” As he spoke, he pulled a slim leather-bound book out of his coat pocket and passed it over.

A lump formed in her throat as she took the book. The cover felt dry and cracked against her skin, and for a moment she let her fingers rest on it as she tried to imagine her mom doing the same thing. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she flipped it open. The wafer-thin pages crackled as if in displeasure at being disturbed, but Emma hardly noticed as she studied the contents. It was a textbook, and every now and then, in faded ink, her mom had written notes in her achingly familiar loopy handwriting.

Without even reading it, Emma instinctively knew that this was what she had been looking for.

“Thank you so much,” she gulped in a raspy voice as relief and gratitude mingled together, before she impulsively added, “A-and thank Olivia for me too.”

For a moment her dad almost looked surprised before he gave her a warm smile. “Anyway, I guess I’d better go if I don’t want to miss my flight.”

“Actually.” Emma took a deep breath as she let her fingers trace a pattern on the cover of the book he had given her. “Before you go, can you tell me if Mom ever mentioned anything called a darkhel to you?”

“A darkhel?” He wrinkled his nose the way Emma remembered his doing when she was a kid. “It’s not ringing any bells. Is it a dragon?”

“Not exactly. So do you remember her ever talking about any other elementals? Maybe one she was having a problem with? Different from her normal missions.”

This time her dad instantly shook his head. “Never. Your mom truly was an amazing woman and she never had a mission that she didn’t complete—okay, well, that’s a lie, she was dismal at doing PTA baking duties in your old school before your sight came through and you moved to Burtonwood. That was when I first mastered my famous triple-layer chocolate cake.”

Emma smiled. “I didn’t know that,” she said, surprised and momentarily distracted. She didn’t tend to think of her life before Burtonwood much. Spontaneously she asked, “Was it weird being married to a slayer?”

“I don’t know if ‘weird’ is the right word. It had certain challenges—none of which I would have changed. But let’s say it’s nice to not worry if Olivia is going to come home from a day at the hospital with her leg half eaten by an iganu dragon.”

“Iigaanual dragon,” Emma automatically corrected as she rolled her eyes. “And Mom’s leg wasn’t half eaten, just a tiny cut. It didn’t even scar.”

“And now you sound just like her.”

“Rea—” Emma started to say, but before she could finish, a static buzz rang in her ear, and she only just stopped herself from crying out from the pain. Instead, instinct made her spin around just in time to see the darkhel on the far side of the practice field, black against the pale beams of the overhead lights. Her sore eye started to water and a stab of fear went racing straight to her heart.

“Dad.” She instantly spun back toward him and all but pushed him into the car. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I just remembered something that I need to do.”

“Oh, of course. I didn’t mean to hold you up.” His eyes widened in disappointment. “We’ll be back from New York on Tuesday. But Emma, you call me if you need anything. Okay?”

She frantically nodded as she waited for him to start the car. “I promise.” It seemed to take forever, but finally he carefully pulled away just as the darkhel raced toward the parking lot, passing oblivious students and parents alike as it ran along the practice field.

Emma’s pulse quickened. Last time she had fought it, everyone was inside, but tonight there was a group of sophomore guys who were throwing a Frisbee around, as well as the combat demonstrations. And unfortunately the guys with the Frisbee were in between her and the darkhel, so she went racing over to where Loni and the others were waiting for her. Thank goodness that after her last fight she had taken to carrying her slaying kit everywhere with her.

“Are you okay?” Loni’s face filled with concern. “You didn’t have a fight with your dad, did you? Because—”

“It’s here. Take this,” Emma hissed, cutting her off as she thrust the slim leather book into Loni’s hands and grabbed her slaying kit. She barely slowed her pace as she yanked back the zipper and pulled out her sword. Then she caught sight of the metal nail files that she used for the small fairies, and she grabbed a handful before letting the kit fall to the ground.

She shoved the files deep into her pocket of her school skirt and curled her fingers around the hilt of her sword as her breathing started to emerge in erratic gasps. She finally covered the distance between her and the darkhel at the edge of the parking lot. For a moment it paused before turning its attention to where the oblivious sophomores were throwing their Frisbee and talking about Sunday’s Induction.

“Hey,” she screamed at the group. “Get out of here now.” But they didn’t seem to hear her, and Emma watched in horror as the darkhel raced toward Garry Lewis, its razor-sharp talons stretched out in front of him, while Garry stood blindly by trying to spin the Frisbee on his finger. Next to him, Glen was equally unaware as he reached over and knocked the Frisbee away from his twin brother.

“Go,” she yelled again as she desperately tried to close the distance between herself and the group before the darkhel reached them, but there was still no response until suddenly Tyler’s voice boomed out at them.

“I’m offering double odds to anyone who thinks one of Professor Gregory’s lab rats can beat Ruby the cockroach in a race.” The moment he said it, the whole group started to swarm off toward where Tyler was holding his betting book.

Emma had no idea why they would find Tyler’s offer so tantalizing, but right now she couldn’t afford to think about it as she watched Garry Lewis inadvertently step away from the darkhel, giving her just enough time to block it.

“You,” the darkhel accused, its voice low and full of venom as its dark red eyes fastened on her like a laser, but Emma ignored them. She was vaguely aware that if anyone looked over at her, they would either think that she was crazy or that she was doing some sort of solo combat demonstration. She sincerely hoped it would be the latter. However, as the darkhel advanced toward her, she cleared her mind. She would have to worry about the fallout later.

Instead, she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword before she sent it plunging into the darkhel’s rib cage. This time she was prepared for the vibrations, and she forced herself to press harder so that her weapon could pierce the skin. She finally managed it and the darkhel looked up at her with annoyance.

She knew it was a long shot to aim for the same kill spot as a harpy, but until she knew where the correct spot was, she was just going to have to keep guessing. The darkhel pushed the sword away.

“You can’t protect him forever. I know he’s close. I can smell him.” The darkhel shrugged before straightening to its full height, seemingly unbothered by the stream of black ooze that was now running down its side.

“What are you talking about?” Emma demanded, but instead of answering, the creature lunged at her. She managed to dance out of the way just in time to avoid one of the sharp talons from slicing through her flesh. However, she stumbled backward and landed awkwardly on her wrist. Pain lashed through her as the darkhel rushed at her again.

This time she held her sword up and managed to nick its flesh. For a moment it paused and winced, and Emma quickly got to her feet, at least grateful her injured wrist wasn’t part of her sword hand. She had thought her first fight with the creature was hard, but this was even worse, and her muscles screamed in protest as she lifted her sword once again and sent it plunging deep through the ironlike skin and slashing at its windpipe. For a moment its red eyes widened and then it . . . laughed?

“Oh, did Mommy forget to mention that while she managed to inconvenience me for a while, I’m not that easy to kill?” It grinned to reveal a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

“How do you know my mother?” Emma demanded as she wiped the sweat away from her brow and tried not to panic.

The creature didn’t bother to answer. Instead, it stepped toward her again, this time raising a giant talon. Emma only just managed to avoid it, her whole body burning up despite the cold, overcast weather.

“The pendant,” Loni yelled from somewhere in the distance, and Emma immediately dug into her skirt pocket and pulled it out. She had no idea what she was supposed to do with it, but it had to be worth a try. The minute she held it up, the darkhel took a step back, which gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. Maybe it was like darkhel kryptonite? She held it toward the beast, but the fear had gone from its eyes and it started to laugh at her again.

“You don’t have any idea what that thing is, do you?”

“I know you don’t like it,” Emma bluffed as the creature once again stalked toward her. Okay, so there went the kryptonite theory. She felt some of her confidence shrivel up and go racing back across the quad. The creature struck out at her again, and she went tumbling. She winced as her body jolted harshly against the ground. Pain lashed through her and her sword went flying out of her hand.

“Now,” the creature continued, its mouth contorted as if it wasn’t big enough to hold all of its teeth. “Time to die.”

“I don’t think so.” A voice suddenly came from somewhere in the distance, and the creature swung around just in time to witness the brunt of Curtis’s sword crashing into its skull. Never had Emma been more pleased to see anyone in her whole life. Even if the someone did have a broken leg, a burned hand, and was wearing the dreadful white sunglasses.

“You can see it?” Emma tried to drag herself up, but her leg refused to work, so instead she crawled over to retrieve her weapon. The pain threatened to overcome her, but she bit it back. She was her mother’s daughter. Pain would not defeat her.

Before Curtis could answer, the darkhel steadied itself as it reached out and slashed at him. Curtis blocked the move with his sword before sending a second thrust into the creature’s shoulder. He pressed forward once again, but as he did so, the single crutch he had been leaning on fell away, and Emma gasped as the darkhel delivered a blow that sent Curtis sprawling across the ground.

Emma was still trying to drag herself into a sitting position as the creature spun toward her, its red eyes full of fire and hate.

This time there were no fancy speeches or small talk; it simply lifted its giant arm, the sinewy muscles outlined against the leather sleeve. As she tried to roll out of the darkhel’s reach, she considered trying the pendant again but then remembered the nail files in her other pocket and she let her fingers curl around one of them. It felt flimsy and inadequate, but as the creature brought its hand crashing down toward her, she used all her might to thrust the file deep into the fleshy palm before quickly rolling out of the way.

The darkhel let out a howl before opening up its gigantic wings and flying up into the gray early-evening sky.

Emma blinked and for a second was tempted to check to see if someone was holding a remote control and they’d fast-forwarded through half the movie, because seriously it didn’t make any sense that a simple little nail file could chase off the darkhel.

“What’s happening?” Loni screamed out. “Is it still there?”

“No, it’s gone,” Curtis said.

Emma looked up to see him reach out for his single crutch and swing his way toward her, concern written all over his face.

“Jones, are you okay?” he asked.

“I think so,” Emma said as Curtis stretched out his hand and she found herself clasping it as she struggled to her feet, her legs still wobbly. “Well, I don’t think anything’s broken, though it might’ve been different if you hadn’t turned up. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t winning the fight. I can’t believe your Unseen glasses actually worked.”

At the mention of the glasses, Curtis suddenly reached up, took them off, and shoved them into his pocket. “Yeah, lucky. The thing is—” Before he could finish the sentence, Loni and Tyler came racing over.

“Okay, so is it definitely gone? And more importantly how come Curtis could fight it?” Tyler instantly demanded.

“It’s the glasses,” Loni exclaimed in a fascinated voice. “Emma said that they worked after the little fairies had glamour-powdered him and they obviously worked with the darkhel as well.”

“Seriously?” Tyler ran a hand through his red hair and looked perplexed. “Are you saying that if we all get some glasses like that, we can see this thing as well?”

“Actually.” Curtis coughed uncomfortably. “As far as I know, this is the only pair. They were made by some German dude. I think his name is Waffle. Apparently they’re a prototype. But right now the most important thing is—”

“Wenshaffle?” Loni widened her eyes. “Your glasses are made by Wenshaffle?” Suddenly realizing that everyone was looking at her blankly, she elaborated. “He’s an über-designer. He mainly works with recoding existing wards so that they can monitor just how many elementals are in a given area, but he’s obviously branching out into lenses. I thought it was weird that some glasses would work on glamour powder, but this explains everything.” She turned to Curtis. “May I?”

For a moment Curtis tightened his jaw and Emma widened her eyes. There was that weird look again, but before she could nudge Loni, the look had gone and Curtis was handing the glasses over.

“Incredible. I still have no idea how he did it.” Loni reverently examined the glasses, making a low whistling noise every now and then before she finally handed them back. “But the main thing is that they worked and that you could help Emma. It’s amazing.”

“It’s not amazing,” Curtis corrected in a tight voice. “It was just a fluke.”

“An amazing fluke,” Loni added as she looked at Curtis with interest, but instead of answering, he just shrugged and slipped the glasses back into his pocket before turning to Emma.

“So how did you manage to fight that thing? It’s so freaking strong. I feel like my arm is about to fall off.”

“Probably the adrenaline rush from discovering that it wanted to kill me,” Emma retorted in a dry voice. “Or the fact that I’m still not any closer to knowing how to kill it. I tried the pendant and for a moment it looked scared, but then it just laughed. In fact, the only thing that worked was the nail file that I use for the regular fairies.”

“Okay, are you telling me that you made it go away with a nail file?” Tyler choked in surprise. “Because even though I couldn’t see the fight, it didn’t seem like the type of thing that would be stopped by a wooden nail file.”

“Not wood, steel,” Emma corrected. “But Tyler’s right. I mean, the second I stabbed it with the nail file, the darkhel disappeared faster than Garry Lewis after he blew up the science lab last year. Yet my sword’s steel as well, which means they are essentially the same thing. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Except for the salt,” Loni added, and Curtis looked confused.

“What.”

“Salt,” Loni repeated. “Emma read on some Web site that fairies really hate salt as well as steel.”

“Loni’s right,” Emma said. “I rub each nail file with salt. To be honest I’ve never really been able to figure out if it makes a difference or not, but guessing by the fact that my nail file did what my sword couldn’t, it must be true.”

“Okay.” Tyler composed himself. “So we don’t know how to kill this creature, but a combination of salt and steel will slow it down. I guess it’s a start, but we still need to figure out what it’s doing here.”

“Well, maybe this can help.” Loni held up the leather-bound book that she was still clutching. “This is the book that Emma gave me before she fought the darkhel. It’s actually written by Sir Francis and there’s a whole section on our invisible friend. Which means we might be able to finally find out something about the darkhel.”