Croakies Monster, page 3
“Whatever the outcome of that effort, you can’t argue that something’s changed. I’m calling to warn you that the flood of artifacts moving through the system has drawn the attention of the Société of Dire Magic. You can expect to hear from Agent Rogers sometime soon.”
Pickled Peach pits! “That’s just awesome.”
“Yes. Have a nice day, Keeper. Princess.”
Madeline started to sign off, but I stopped her. “How’s Rustin?”
“And Sadie?” Sebille asked, frowning as if she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like the answer.
Madeline appeared surprised, as if she’d totally forgotten about them. I knew that wasn’t the case. Since taking on the task of fixing Rustin after Madeline’s evil brother put Rustin’s soul into a frog, the Witch never seemed to forget my unfortunate friend. She’d been keeping Rustin on a short tether. “They’re both fine. In fact, I think he’s ready for a trial run. I told him that myself this morning. I expect you’ll hear from Rustin…” she scanned Sebille a look. “Both of them…soon.” She gave us a tight smile. “It sounds like you can use some help. The timing should be optimal.” She disappeared without another word. My gaze shot to the elusive stag head as the screen started to darken from the edges out, and I had a brief flash of intuition that Felonius had winked at me. But when I focused on him, he was staring straight ahead. “I’m going to catch you one of these days,” I told the wall decoration before the mirror went totally dark.
Had he smiled?
I looked at Sebille. “Do you believe her about Rustin and Sadie?”
“I don’t know. If it was true, I would have thought they’d be here by now.”
I nodded, looking at the table of artifacts. I knew I should start cataloging the mess. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. “I still need to get that Groundhog Day alarm clock. I think I’ll go see if I can mark that one off my list.”
Fortunately, the number of new orders for the day had slowed to a trickle. I was pretty sure we’d only gotten five or six new ones since Grym had come by that morning and pulled me away from my work.
Sebille’s gaze fell on the table, and she seemed to have the same thought I’d had. “I’ll come with you. Maybe we can grab the comb that thickens hair after we get the clock.”
The idea of knocking two more artifacts off my list appealed. “Let’s do it.” I went to grab the two orders from Shakespeare’s desk and frowned. The Book of Pages was sitting on top of the order pile. I hadn’t put it there. The book had a tendency to move around on its own when it was trying to tell me something. Running my fingers over the cover, I noted how the leather softened and warmed under my touch. “What are you up to?” I asked the book. But it didn’t open and I figured that meant it wasn’t trying to communicate anything. Sebille had probably moved it there. I turned to ask her, but she was gone. I heard her thumping around in the bookstore. Probably bundling up for the blustery weather outside.
Sighing, I headed for the dividing door.
I could hear Hobs talking animatedly through the open door to my apartment. Slimy and Wicked were up there too, the three of them were hanging out and probably plotting the destruction of the world.
“We’re going out, you three. Stay out of trouble.” Hobs appeared on the landing above our heads. “We will, Miss. Stay warm, there’s a cold front coming.”
The way he said it made my stomach tighten with dread. But when I looked into his big blue eyes, I saw no guile or mischief there. “We’ll do that.”
The lights overhead flickered violently as I headed toward the dividing door. I screeched to a stop, looking around.
“That’s been happening a lot since we came back from Plex,” I muttered to myself, thinking we must have electrical interference of some kind.
I decided to have Sebille ask her mother to come by and check it out. If there was magical influence, the Queen of the Fae in Enchanted would be just the supernormal to suss it out. Having made that decision, I opened the door.
And was nearly decapitated by a flying book.
He stood just inside the exterior door, so tall his head was only a couple of feet beneath the tiles of my thirty-foot-tall ceilings.
He appeared much bigger than he’d looked in the park.
Huddled against the wall beside the door, Sebille was wide-eyed and even paler than usual. “We have a visitor,” she murmured to me, barely moving her lips.
“Yeah,” I agreed on a whisper. “We certainly do.”
I jerked back as a slender hardback volume shot past my head. The book pinged off the bathroom door and floated away as if suspended on a string held by a giant puppet master. I recognized the book as one of the children’s titles I kept in the store. I didn’t have all that many young customers at Croakies, but I had a handful of bookish young mothers who left their progeny in front of the small bookshelf unit devoted to youth books while they perused the shelves for romance and mystery books.
Sebille squeaked as a chunky cardboard picture book entitled, Wilfreda the Witch goes Walkies, flew straight at us. She reached up and caught the volume handily and then grunted as the book tore back out of her hand and flew away.
The monster by the door shifted slightly, sending the stench of wet dog wafting through the store. A brisk, icy wind scoured past, blowing a pile of customer orders into the air with its breath. The sheets of paper danced to the floor in the wind’s icy grip.
I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself as the blustery breezes grew colder and more animated.
A chunk of ice broke off over our heads and sliced downward, missing my head by inches and stabbing the carpet in front of my shoe.
That was when I noticed the ice covering the floor and every available surface. Icicles hung from the furniture, shelves, and sales counter and glistened along the glossy ceiling tiles overhead.
It crunched under my foot when I moved.
The thing by the door took an enormous step forward, cocked its head, and waved a hand. As if we were inside a snow globe that he’d just shaken, snow began to fall from the ceiling, drifting downward in pretty flakes the size of a fingertip.
The monster had turned Croakies into a winter wonderland. It looked around with childlike glee, smiling.
Sebille and I gulped at the sight of all those really big white teeth.
“We should probably do something,” Sebille said.
“Yeah, I agree. Like what?”
The sprite shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe sell it a book on how to winterize its car?”
I snorted out a laugh and the monster’s head tilted again, its eyes widening slightly.
Taking a deep breath, I decided I had to be the master of my surroundings and took a step forward.
My foot slipped on the ice covering the floor, and I threw my arms out in an attempt to stay upright as I slid in a complete circle, my weight trying to pull me to the floor.
Enjoying the show, the monster didn’t move.
When I’d finally mastered my balance, I stood half bent over to keep from losing it again and tried a smile. “Um, ah, welcome to Croakies. Can I…erm…help you?”
Behind me, Sebille snorted.
I whipped my head around to glare at her, and that was all it took for me to completely lose control of my body and hit the ground.
I lay sprawled for a few seconds, my heart pounding as I realized I’d inadvertently slid closer to the monster. It stared at me for a beat as I slowly lowered my hands and, ever so carefully shoved myself a few inches away.
The glacial blue gaze narrowed. The almost perfectly triangular pink nose twitched, and then the thing moved.
It was big. It was stinky. But it moved fast.
Really fast.
I squealed and rolled to my knees, crawling frantically toward Sebille as the building shook under the monster’s weight.
Two strides. That was all it took for the creature to be on top of me. And when the massive hands wrapped around my waist, the thing pinched me so tightly in its grip I couldn’t even draw a breath to scream.
4
Maybe you Could help?
The monster lifted me to a spot in front of its face. I couldn’t see what was happening but I felt the thing’s perusal of my…well basically all he could see was my backside.
My cheeks went pink, and I mentally harangued myself for worrying about how wide my boohind looked from that vantage point. Who in the goddess’s spare galoshes cared what the Winter Monster thought about my backside?
I mean, it wasn’t like he and I were going to be dating.
I had higher standards than that.
I preferred my men only to have hair on their heads. And, their armpits, though that was just because it was generally accepted that males of the species had armpit hair. And maybe one or two other places that were generally accepted. But definitely not on his elbows. Hairy elbows were just not sexy. Or hairy knees.
Nope. No hair there either.
I shook off my thoughts. “Sebille, does he look like he’s thinking of having an early dinner?”
She frowned. “It’s hard to tell. His teeth are definitely showing. But he could just be laughing at your mom jeans.”
“Har,” I told Sebille. “Maybe you could help?” I arched my brows at her, amazed at her lack of motivation as my life hung in the balance.
Literally.
The world suddenly shifted, and I shot upward on a piercing scream. The thought flashed through my terrorized brain that he was going to eat me. But I never felt the razor sharpness of his big white teeth. Instead, I plunged downward again, screaming like a gravy-coated mouse at an alley-cat convention. I realized I was clutching the monster’s massive, leathery fingers like a lifeline and tried to unclench, but then the thing lifted me toward the ceiling again and my arms clamped down of their own volition.
A deep, thundering rumble accompanied his antics and I realized the thing was laughing at me.
Awkward.
To my everlasting chagrin, Mr. Abominable shook me up and down again several more times. I was dizzy and nauseous by the time I realized it probably wasn’t going to eat me, but there was a good chance it would shake me to death.
“Sebille!” I yelled as I plunged downward again. “Do something!”
“What do you want me to do? If I throw magic at the thing, it might drop you.”
I glanced her way. To her credit, she did have energy dancing in her palms and a worried look on her face.
That made me feel better and worse at the same time.
Was it possible I had no options?
Then I thought of something. “I’m going to zap it when I’m close to the ground, so if it drops me, it won’t hurt as much.”
She frowned but nodded. “I’ll try to catch you if I can.”
That didn’t sound very promising at all.
The monster jerked me toward the ceiling.
My stomach rebelled and I tasted bile. So not good. Even worse, my head actually brushed against an icicle there and sharp pain pierced my scalp. “Okay, new problem. He’s going to skewer me on an icicle.”
Sebille suddenly popped away and I panicked.
She’s running? Really? “You’re just going to leave me here alone?” My voice had a definite hysterical tone to it.
A burst of green light flared in front of me, and Sebille hovered on the air in her sprite form, hands on hips and iridescent green gaze flashing anger. “Naida, do you really think so little of me?”
I would have probably said something we would both regret, but the monster’s hand shot upward again and I was too busy screaming bloody murder.
Behind me, the exterior door to Croakies slammed open.
The monster’s hand started to lower, and the thing began to turn.
I looked at Sebille. “Forget me, save whoever that is!”
She nodded and shot upward, flying right at the enormous, toothy face of the Winter Monster. “Hey, stupid!” she yelled.
The creature’s gaze whipped back toward the sprite, and it roared as she charged its face, her iridescent purple and green wings buzzing so fast it was hard to see them. She shot away as a big hand slammed in her direction, and then returned again to buzz around its ears.
The monster opened its hand and let go of me so it could slap at the irritating sprite.
I knew exactly how it felt.
I sailed toward the floor, landing in a crouch as pain zinged through my knees. “Ouch!”
A huge, hairy foot flashed in my direction. I dodged around it, my thoughts focused on getting whoever had come into the store out of the building as Sebille continued to keep the monster busy.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw who it was. Gaze narrowing.
“Never mind, Sebille,” I told my assistant. “You can let the monster eat this one.”
Rogers glowered over at me, his small, slender form standing primly just inside the door. He stood with his feet tucked together at the heels, hands clasping the handle of a walking stick I was pretty sure he didn’t need. The man’s face was narrow and pasty, with a pointy chin that was made sharper by the dark blond goatee framing it.
As usual, Rogers wore an old-fashioned black suit with rounded lapels, a strange bowler hat covering his dark blond hair.
His nose twitched, making his mustache dance unhappily, and he held me in a derisive glare. “I see you’re up to your usual tricks, Naida keeper.”
The monster moved, lightning-fast, and Sebille yelped as he nearly caught her in his meaty fist.
Green light flared like camera flashes above my head.
I shrugged. “I’m not doing anything except trying to survive, Agent Rogers.” I reached over and sent a thick bolt of keeper energy into the monster’s foot. It bellowed, hopped up on one foot and spun, looking at me as if it was thinking about smashing me into the threadbare carpet.
I threw energy at its other foot and then gathered a thick ball of silver magic in both fists as it bellowed again. “Don’t even think about it, Mister.”
The monster’s eyes rounded. It took one last swipe at Sebille and then, with a final roar of displeasure, the critter melted into my carpet.
Behind me, the soft plop of several books hitting the ground put a period on his departure.
I looked at Rogers. “What can I do for you, Agent Rogers?”
He looked around the bookstore, his judgmental, light-blue gaze finding every flaw and lingering there in silent accusation. Melting ice dripped from the ceiling, plopping onto the floor and the covers of the fallen books. I hurried to pick up the books, drying them on my clothes before the covers were spotted.
A soft crackling sound preceded the crashing of an icicle to the carpet, followed almost immediately by several more.
Sebille popped back to full size and grabbed two umbrellas from the closet by the tea-making counter. She handed me one and held the other over her head as she helped me pick up the books.
His lip curled, Rogers’s icy blue gaze followed us around as if he were watching roaches scurrying from one pile of trash to another.
I clamped down on the defensive inclinations burning a hole in my throat. Trying to plead my case would only make me look weak. Rogers was a bully. If he sensed any weakness, he would pounce.
When the books were safe, I turned back to the door, cocking a questioning brow in his direction. I stood there waiting for him to tell me why he’d come to befoul my day.
“I understand there’s an artifact in Enchanted that’s creating a monster. I’ve also been told that you have no idea how to locate it.” He jerked his head toward the spot where the monster had been. The carpet there was drenched, melted ice puddling in the shapes of two giant feet where the silver abominable had compressed the ancient padding underneath. “I’ve seen the results first hand. What do you think would have happened if a human customer had come through this door, Naida keeper?”
I would have been much happier to see them than I’d been to see him, I thought. “I’d have handled it.” It wasn’t as outrageous a statement as it seemed. Most of my customers were magic users and would have been alarmed, but not all that surprised. However, I did have a few human customers who would have been terrified if they’d seen the Winter Monster. It would have been hard to explain away the presence of the monster effectively enough to keep them from running shrieking to the newspapers about it.
A direct response was inadvisable, so I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard the question. “We’re on this thing’s trail. I hope to have it locked down by tomorrow.”
Rogers didn’t look convinced, but he inclined his chin. “See that you do, Keeper. I’ll be staying in town for the duration, just in case.”
Oh goody. I pinched my lips closed to trap the snarky response behind them.
Agent Rogers and I stood in a silent standoff for another moment. Finally, he inclined his chin again and left.
I had to lock my jaw to keep from sticking my tongue out at him.
“Who do you suppose turned us in about the monster?” Sebille asked, her gaze on Rogers as he and his snake-headed walking stick glided past the big window at the front of the store.
My gut reaction was to blame Grym. But then I realized he’d asked for my help with the monster. “That’s a very good question,” I said, frowning.
“So,” Sebille said on a sigh. “I guess I’ll go get the Plex vacuum.”
The Plex vacuum was one of several artifacts I’d brought back from my last adventure, when a dimensional wrinkle had sucked a few cows, a fainting goat, Hobs, Mr. Slimy, Mr. Wicked and yours truly into another dimension. Sebille and I had discovered upon returning home with the hand-held device, that it turned anything we sucked up with it into songbirds.
Really.
I had birds flying and pooping all over the artifact library. And as was my luck, they didn’t seem to want to go back outside. It was, after all, still cold out there since Winter was still clinging to the streets of Enchanted.
