by Tegan Maher
“Aw, honey, you look sad. What’s got you blue?” Addie asked, swooping over and settling into the chair beside me. I had the feeling she would have put her hand over mine if she’d been able.
I gave her a half-smile. “Nothing, really. It’s just that you reminded me of my aunts for a minute. We’ve never missed spending Christmas together, and it’s a little weird for me, that’s all.”
“Not to be nosy,” Noelle said with a comforting smile, “but why aren’t you spending the holidays with your family? Don’t get me wrong,” she rushed to say, “you’re more than welcome.”
I was grateful that Shelby had kept my business to herself, but sorta wishing she’d told them my story so that I wouldn’t have to.
“Because I can’t go to the Celestial City,” I replied, sighing. “And that’s where we spend Christmas. It’s a long story, but the long and short of it is that my mom screwed up. Like, really, really screwed up, and I knew what she was going to do before she did it.”
“So they banned you from this city?” Addie asked. “That’s a weird punishment.”
I shook my head. “They didn’t ban me per se. I …” It was still hard for me to talk about even though it had been several months since it had happened. “They shrunk my wings, which in angel-speak means I got a demotion in status. Without a full set, I can’t access the city.”
“They shrunk your wings,” Noelle replied, her voice flat. “And that keeps you from going home?”
“No,” I replied, “I can still go home. I don’t live in the city, but that’s where we always spend Christmas. Celestial City is for higher-level angels only, with the exception of a few chosen guests now and then.”
Memories of the grand castle that glittered like diamonds decorated to the hilt for the holidays almost made me cry. “There’s a castle, and through the whole week of Christmas, there are parties and festivities, and I get to see people I haven’t seen all year.”
“And your aunts didn’t want to stay behind with you instead of going?” Addie asked, her brows drawn down.
“Oh, no,” I said, holding my hands up. “You have it all wrong. They were all for staying behind and having Christmas at the farm with me, but I told them I had to work so they’d go. They shouldn’t miss out on seeing their friends and going to the parties just because I’m being punished.”
Noelle started to say something but snapped her mouth shut when Addie shot her a look and shook her head. Instead, she said, “Well, then I’m glad you decided to spend the holidays with us. You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you,” I said with a smile. I was already starting to feel at ease and realized Shelby had been right. It was starting to look like it was going to be a fun, relaxing holiday.
2
Shelby and I went to get the pizzas while Noelle finished baking her cookies. The ride to town was scenic, but the town itself was what interested me the most. I was used to the disorganized patchwork city of Abaddon’s Gate. It was always busy no matter what time of day or night, and all the shops were run by magicals, many of whom had been alive for hundreds of years. The mix of modern and old-fashioned storefront styles and even dress was an odd mix that probably wouldn’t work anywhere else but there.
Keyhole Lake, by comparison, was like something from a Hallmark movie. Shelby laughed when I made the comparison.
“I can see where you’d think that just from drivin’ through town, but once you meet some of the people, you’ll take that back.”
“What do you mean? They’re not all warm and fuzzy like the people in the movies?” I was trying to draw rational conclusions from her statement, but my limited experience with humans didn’t give me much to work with.
“Oh, no,” she said, keeping her eyes on the snow-covered road. “They’re some of the nicest folks you could ever meet, but they’re definitely not Hallmark material aside from the fact that Keyhole is a small town. They’re a little more … down to earth.”
She smiled as she said it, giving me the feeling she didn’t mean that in a bad way. “Take Bobbie Sue, for example. Besides being my godmother, she and her husband Earl own Bobbie Sue’s Barbecue. Heart the size of Texas, but she’s a spitfire if you cross her. The first time she met Hunter, Noelle’s boyfriend, she waved a butcher knife at him for coming into her kitchen without permission. And he was there on official police business.”
I laughed. That sounded like a woman I’d get along with, but definitely not like some made-for-TV restaurant-owning godmother. “Is everybody like that?”
“Well,” she replied, flicking on her blinker and turning into the parking lot of a small strip mall, “Coralee owns the Clip N Curl, the official town beauty parlor. If you don’t know what you did last night, ask her. If she doesn’t know about it, it didn’t happen. She and her little group of regulars run bets on everything from when somebody’s gonna get married to what color Mrs. Stanford will paint her living room next. Vicious or downright made-up gossip doesn’t fly with her, though.” Her green eyes glittered with humor as she cast me a sideways glance. “She believes that with great power comes great responsibility.”
“Sounds like you have some real characters,” I replied. “But it sounds nice. The Celestial City isn’t anything like that. Don’t get me wrong; it’s an amazing place. The palace is massive and built of marble. When the sun hits it, it glitters like it’s covered in diamonds. But angels are fundamentally different from mortal beings. When you don’t die, relationships are different. Less transient so you choose your friends carefully. Also, being alive for eons tends to take the shine off the little things.”
“That’s a shame,” she said, pulling to a stop in front of a shop with a big neon sign that said Duck’s. “I can promise you, though, that no matter how long you live, you won’t taste better pizza than this.”
We got out of the car, and the cold slammed me in the face. I huddled deeper into my coat and pulled my toboggan down over my ears and neck, deciding then and there that I loved living in a place that hardly ever dropped below fifty degrees.
The luscious smell of baking bread and garlic curled around us as we pushed through the door, and my stomach rumbled. Colorful, blinking Christmas lights and tinsel decorated the counter, and little stockings were hung on the board behind it with the names of what I assumed were the employees painted on them with gold glitter.
A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair stood behind the counter wearing a Santa hat and a tee-shirt with the big elf carrying a box of pizza. The cheerful atmosphere was at odds with the argument going on between two older men standing on our side of the counter.
“You’re a Scrooge is what you are, you old coot,” the man on the right, a bald guy with a big belly and a mole on his head exclaimed.
“And you put up so many lights they could be seen from space. They disrupt my cows. I haven’t had milk in two days,” the other man, a wiry guy with hair sprouting from his ears, said.
“Now fellas,” the guy behind the counter—Duck, I assumed—said as he shoved a pizza box toward the wiry Mr. Scrooge. “It’s Christmas. Where’s the peace and goodwill? Bob, here’s your pizza. It’s on the house. Yours too, Richard.”
Bob snatched the box from the counter and jabbed a gnarled finger at the bigger man. “You turn those lights off or else.”
Before Richard could respond, Bob stomped out the door, a rush of cold air blowing in before the door swung back closed.
“Sorry about that, Duck, ladies,” Richard said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He pulled out two twenties and held them out to Duck. “This is for mine and theirs, too. I hate that they had to hear such ugliness this time of year.”
“Nah,” Duck said, waving the cash away. “I said they were on the house, and I meant it. I’m just gettin’ ready to close up, so consider them my Christmas present to y’all. You keep me in business the rest of the year, so a free pizza is the least I can do.”
“You sure?” Richard asked. “I feel ba
d for startin’ somethin’ in your store.”
“Aw, you didn’t start nothin’,” Duck said. “Bob’s a pain in the backside on the best of days, and that display you put on out there is the bee’s knees. Don’t pay him no mind.”
“Still, I’m sorry it spilled into here. We’ve had a feud for years about it. I don’t know why he gets so het up about it, but my grandkids love helping me put it up, and I’m not givin’ it up just to suit his cows.” Richard took his pizza from Duck and turned toward the door. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” we all responded as the door closed behind him.
Duck sighed. “That Bob McKissick is a grouchy old goat. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Why just the other day, he was grousin’ at Christine and Judd Thomas because the tractor he bought from them two years ago broke down. He ain’t happy if he’s not at odds with somebody.”
“I know people like that, too,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s no pleasing them.”
“You’re exactly right, young lady,” Duck said. “You must me Kira. We heard you were comin’ to visit with Shelby over Christmas. Welcome to Keyhole Lake.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at him. “I can’t wait to try your pizza. Noelle and Shelby say it’s the best.”
“Speaking of,” Shelby said, “Max’ll stroke out if this pizza’s cold by the time we get it home, and I’m sure you’re wantin’ to close up and get out of here.”
Duck grinned at her. “Don’t worry about me, but we wouldn’t want Max mad. You better get a move on, then.”
That confused me a little because I hadn’t met anybody named Max, but maybe somebody was coming to visit.
“We really appreciate the pizza, Duck. You didn’t have to do that,” Shelby said, motioning toward two pizza boxes. “Are these ours?”
“Sure are, little girl. It’s good to see you. How’s school goin’?”
“Good,” Shelby replied, sliding the boxes off the counter. “I’m settlin’ in, though my schedule’s a lot fuller than I thought it would be.”
That was the understatement of the century considering she’d gone to the University of Georgia to become a veterinarian and ended up being scouted by a secret magical society called the Celestial Academy who saves the world from evil on a regular basis. And that’s no exaggeration.
“Well I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Duck said as we pushed back out into the cold. “You girls have a Merry Christmas, and tell Noelle, too.”
The ride home smelled amazing, and Shelby told me more about the town as we passed through it. She did a loop through and showed me her cousin’s coffee shop, her sister’s upcycle shop, Bobbie Sue’s, and the Clip N Curl. There was a massive Christmas tree in the town square, and every storefront was decorated to the nines.
It looked like a wonderful place to visit. Maybe I’d come back again when it wasn’t cold enough to freeze my wings off.
3
Two hours later, we’d polished off the pizzas and had the Christmas tree and foyer halfway decorated. Noelle’s boyfriend had brought pizza, and Shelby had been right. It was the best I'd ever had. I had no idea who this Duck guy was or where he’d learned to make pizza, but he was a culinary superstar as far as I was concerned. And I hadn’t yet met anybody named Max.
“Where are Mamaw’s ornaments?” Shelby asked as she poked through several boxes of decorations.
“They should be there,” Noelle said as she strung tinsel around the fireplace. “They’re in a clear plastic box with either a green or a red lid. I can’t remember which.”
I had no idea what “Memaw’s ornaments” were, but it was obvious there wasn’t a clear plastic box with a colored lid. I finished wrapping the last strand of popcorn around the tree and stood back to admire my handiwork. I’d never seen actual real strung popcorn, but Noelle had taken the time to do it the day before. It gave the tree a homey look that made me want to try it with my aunts next year.
I glanced at Shelby to see what she thought, but she was standing with her hands on her hips, her lips puckered and her brow furrowed. “They’re not here.”
Noelle turned from the fireplace and her gaze wandered over the six or seven boxes of decorations we hadn’t unpacked yet. “I must not have brought them in from the barn then,” she said. “I would have sworn I did, though.”
“That’s okay,” Shelby said, flapping her hand. “We’ll go find it. I wanted to show Kira the horses, anyway.”
“Yeah,” I added. “I’m all done here, and I’d love to see the horses.”
We bundled up and tromped outside. The snow was still coming down, and with darkness falling, the temperature had dropped even further.
“Who are you?” a gruff voice asked when we stepped onto the porch.
I jumped and landed on ice, and I instinctively popped my wings out to catch myself, ripping the coat I was wearing. My heart was pounding as I regained my balance and twisted toward the voice.
A furry gray miniature donkey stood there, and if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was scowling at me. I pulled in a deep breath and released it. “You must be the mysterious Max.”
Shelby had told me about the talking donkey who’d started life back in the sixteenth century as lesser royalty, but I’d forgotten about it. Apparently, Irish witches were just as wrathful then as they were now because he’d crossed one and ended up a donkey.
“I am,” he said, twisting his head in an attempt to get a look at my wings. “And you must be Kira. Those look way different than I imagined them.”
I self-consciously retracted my wings, pulling my tattered coat around me. “They look way different than they used to,” I replied defensively.
“Max!” Shelby hissed as she put her hand on my arm. “Don’t be rude.”
“I wasn’t being rude,” he said, following us down the steps. “I was simply making an observation.”
He glanced up at me, and I couldn’t believe how ridiculously long his eyelashes were. Despite his words, I didn’t sense that there was any malice behind them. He just looked curious.
“The truth is that my wings used to be bigger, but I got in trouble, and the powers that be shrunk them as punishment.”
“Ah,” he replied, “I can certainly relate to that. Is it cool being able to fly? You can fly, right?”
Shelby arched a brow at him, but I shook my head at her. “It’s fine. Yeah, Max, I can fly, though not as well as I used to be able to.”
He fell silent, and I felt an unexpected kinship with him. Weird, I know, but true. I laid a hand on his soft fur as we rounded the corner into the barn. Shelby flipped the lights on since it was getting close to dark. Noelle had brought the horses in while we’d gone for the pizza, and a few nickers greeted us. Several heads popped over stalls, and Shelby introduced me to each one.
“Okay,” she said after I’d met Mayhem, a big black-and-white horse she’d described as the troublemaker, “let’s find those ornaments and get back inside.”
I blew into my hands to warm them up. “Do you have any idea where they might be?”
“In the other barn,” she said. “We use it mostly for storage. I just wanted you to meet the horses.”
She turned the lights out and we headed to the other building.
“They’re probably in the back,” she said, flipping on the light.
There was only one bare bulb, and its watery light didn’t quite reach the darkest corners. A buckboard—I assumed the one they used for the hayride—sat in the middle of the building decorated with pine boughs, ribbons, and bells.
“You start in that corner, I’ll start in that one.” She motioned toward the left side of the barn.
I headed that way, stepping over miscellaneous mechanical parts, farm equipment, and even some tennis rackets. I pivoted when I caught shadowy movement out of the corner of my eye and reached without a second thought for the dagger on my thigh. I’d left all my other weapons behind, but the Divine Dagger was neve
r away from me. It had saved my life on enough occasions that I wasn’t comfortable being without it. Ever.
I hadn’t gone into detail when I’d explained my mom’s transgressions earlier, but she’d opened up Abaddon’s Gate, which released a lot of damned souls into society. My penance, in addition to having my glorious wings reduced to veritable stubs, was to capture all the souls and return them to the valley. The dagger was my primary weapon, imbued with magical properties specifically designed to protect me.
I scanned the space but didn’t see anything. Deciding it had been a trick of the light, I turned back to my search. A few minutes later, I saw it again, but this time, I knew it wasn’t my imagination. Strangely enough, my dagger wasn’t warming up against my leg like it did when I was near danger.
“Who’s there?” Max, who’d stayed by my side, called, looking into the darkness.
A shimmery form separated itself from the shadows, and I gasped when I recognized it. I knew the ghost, except the last time I’d seen him, he hadn’t been a ghost.
Even though ghosts were more in Shelby’s wheelhouse than mine, it looked like our Christmas vacation had just taken a turn for the worse.
4
“Shelby!” I yelped. “Get over here!”
“What?” she called. “Are you okay?”
Something clanked and she cursed.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess I am. But we have a problem.” I didn’t take my eyes off the ghost floating before me, and it only took a couple seconds for Shelby to get there.
“Oh, crap,” she said as the spirit of the grouchy old man from the pizza shop scowled at us. “This is bad. Really bad.”
“Well it ain’t nearly as bad for you as it is for me,” Bob McKissick said. “I’m layin’ over in my house dead and you’re here, warm and in the flesh.”