Dekram glared at the phone in her hand. "I'm sure. They all go to every buzz. Maybe I should talk to my father before he leaves on his H S mission in the morning."
"Let's not go getting all Monster House on Soahc before we know for sure if she had anything to do with this."
Dekram paced in front of the mirror, a tight grip on her iPhone. "I think we should, at least, do some checking around. Soahc's part in this is a good place to start." Should be checking out the Skulls, too, but…
"Yeah, and we need to figure out how to let the kids know about the meetings at Human Services. That should be a priority before getting your father further involved."
Dekram caught her frazzled reflection in the mirror as she flitted by. Tinker PJs and a Wicked Witch of the West expression—oh, yeah, I'm stylin'. "I'll call Layol. Maybe she can come up with something."
"Don't go getting her hyped on the drug thing. You know how much she hates Soahc and—"
"Look, I get it. You want to be fair, impartial, but Bacs almost died tonight,"—and I have a huge bruise on my hip—"just like the other Air fairy, and Soahc was right in the middle of this one. That's serious. We need to warn the kids that buzz about drugs being dumped in the honey…especially when Soahc's around." She stared at her reflection again, finger-combed her hair and tried to put the same innocent look on her face that the storybook fairy on her pajamas wore. The faux expression didn't quite hit its mark. Don't make this personal—think Fire swarming, ugly skulls, putrid honey, and…"Oh, crap," Dekram mumbled, "I so want this to be all Soahc."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," she said.
Nesohc sighed. "Call me if you two come up with something—if not, we'll talk about it tomorrow."
Dekram disconnected, pulled up Layol's avatar and popped it with a thumb.
"Ss-up, Dek?"
"Here's the latest from Nes on Bacs," she said, then started in. A few minutes later Dekram finished with, "What if Soahc slipped him a thrill?" S-L-A-N-D-E-R: a false and malicious statement that damages somebody's reputation.
The connection was quiet for three human heartbeats, and then Dekram heard Layol's wings rev up to a loud buzz. "I've got an idea on how to warn the kids and taint Soahc's wings. I'm gonna get all passive-aggressive, malicious fairy on 'er!"
"What?"
"Do you ever surf the Net?"
Dekram rolled her eyes. "Not unless I have to."
"Tink-a-poo, you need to work up your geek. Thank the Elements I am so on it."
* * *
DEKRAM WOKE THE next morning feeling listless from lack of sleep and unnerved by the previous night's events. She expected to be turned into a stone lawn ornament the minute her mother locked eyes with her. She was positive her father'd already told her mother about the Bacs thing. By the time she reached the kitchen she was in a dither.
When her mother backhanded undulating-dreads out of her eyes and greeted her with a warm smile, Dekram's jaw dropped. Diuqil spooned oatmeal into a bowl that was sitting on the table in front of an empty chair.
Quickly taking the seat in front of the bowl of oatmeal—even though she wasn't at all hungry—Dekram busied herself by adding cream and sugar, and, rather noisily, began to stir.
Trying to hide a grin, her father pulled a sheet of paper out of a manila folder and hid behind it.
Dekram's eyes danced over everything in the room but her parents' faces as she dug in and pulled a spoonful of cereal toward her mouth.
A chuckle from behind her father's paper made Dekram jump.
"Redael, stop teasing our daughter." Diuqil's voice jerked Dekram's head in that direction. "It was commendable to give up your studies to handle that poor boy last night, Dekram," she said, setting the oatmeal pot on a trivet beside an Easy Bake Oven. She popped the oven door open and pulled out a muffin the size of a human quarter, and set it before Dekram. "The swift decisions you and your friends made probably saved that boy's life and certainly exemplified adult behavior in a serious situation. I'm very proud of all of you."
Dekram gulped hard, oatmeal moving way too slowly down the back of her throat. She gave it a shove with an enormous bite off the muffin. Oh, Eternal Darkness!—I'm a descendent of Puck.
Redael ducked behind the open manila folder he was holding.
Diuqil set a thimble full of peach nectar beside her oatmeal.
"Um," Dekram took a huge sip from the thimble, swallowed several times, and then finished by saying, "it seemed like the right thing to do at the time." I just so didn't lie right to her face—again!—I'm less than a skid-mark on the inside of Puck's undies.
Redael cleared his throat.
"Helping a classmate,"—her mom placed dirty dishes into the sink—"was of dire importance at the time. You reacted admirably. Now off to school before you are late."
Dekram jumped from her chair, spoon clanking in the bowl, bolted to the kitchen door and ricocheted back, wings treading air. "I almost forgot. Is it okay if I stay after school and get some work done in the library?" NOT! I have no idea where my admirable friends and I will actually be digging up dirt on Soahc and her Fire fairy brethren. "I promise I won't be home too late." O'mifairygodmother, I'm becoming one of the horrid characters in an R.L. Stine novel.
"I'm sure you'll be using your time wisely," her father cut in. "I'll be eager to hear all about the mock missions when I get back."
Before her mother could comment, her dad covered Diuqil's mouth with a goodbye kiss, and Dekram flew out the door.
Dekram's first period was Mortal Behavioral Traits—Soahc and Bacs were in the same class. She hovered by the lockers outside the door, thinking how ironic the class seemed now.
Watching the students that flew into the classroom, she became aware of just how humanized the fairies had become. All in the name of being able to understand the human race so we can better spell and charm them from destroying their world. Dekram postulated while scrutinizing small groups buzzing by, advertising the human facade each copied in every detail: dress, attitude, and speech. All were holding pixie size human toys—cell phones, iPads, Nintendo DSs, Kindle readers, MP3 players—and most had ear-buds plugged into their ears. Students swapped cheat codes, discussed new rage downloads, like Vine; laughed at Facebook posts, Twitter comments, and whose were the snarkiest.
As Dekram flew into the classroom, Soahc gave her a wicked smile, held up her cell phone and mouthed, "How's the hip?"
Dekram passed by quickly and found her seat, very aware of Bacs' vacant one.
Several of the students leaned in closer while Soahc whispered, eyes on Dekram, lips curled in disgust. On cue, her wannabe fans burst into giggles, all eyes jumping from Soahc's cell phone to Dekram and back again.
Dekram ignored them, wiggled into her seat, crossed her legs and made a point not to favor her bruised hip. You'd think the popularity of the stupid video would be yesterday's news with Bacs in the hospital.
Mr. Ezeerb, who was writing on the chalkboard, loudly cleared his throat. The class became quiet.
With a wicked grin on her face, Soahc passed a note that made its way to Dekram.
Dekram mumbled as she read, "Poor Bacs. Nesohc dropped the ball." Dekram turned red, and her wings fluttered as she read on. "It could have been Nesohc, ya know." She looked up, and Soahc made her eyes big with feigned fear as she mouthed, "OR ME!"
Before Dekram could do more than grit her teeth, Mr. Ezeerb turned around and Soahc's head swiveled back toward the front of the room. As the class continued, Dekram's mind rambled. I'm almost sure that Soahc knew we'd found Bacs, and probably guessed that Nesohc told me about going to meet Soahc, and why. The question is did Soahc stage the whole thing? Because if she did, she knows who gave Bacs the drugs.
The rest of the morning was a blur. Dekram couldn't take her mind off what Soahc had written and was anxious to see what Layol thought about it.
When she finally arrived at the first class she shared with Layol, she hurried over to her friend and before settling into h
er seat, blurted, "Soahc knows we helped Bacs. I bet she knows who gave him the drugs, too."
Layol, dressed in the cutest puffy pink dress that fell to her upper thighs and grazed a pair of purple hip boots, sat, tossed her hair then said, "What'd she say?"
"She didn't say anything. She passed me this note." Dekram handed it to Layol and watched her read. When she looked up, Dekram said, "After I read that part about how it could have been Nesohc I glared at her and she made her eyes big and mouthed, 'Or me' like she was so afraid. But she was grinning and you could tell she was lying." Dekram folded her wings, slid into the chair and ankle-pushed grungy skinny-jeans lower over black riding boots.
Layol pulled the mission file from her book bag and laid it on the desk in front of her. "I don't think she knows we helped or that we were the ones who got him to the hospital, and I pray to the Elements she doesn't know because of us, your father did. Anyway, how could she?"
"Bacs?" Dekram nervously got her notes ready for class.
"I doubt it. He was totally out of it when we called your dad." Layol pulled a sheet of paper out of her file and laid it on top of the mission folder.
Dekram shoved her backpack under her seat. "Not when Nesohc went to visit."
With a thoughtful expression, Layol asked, "But why would he tell her?"
Dekram scowled, green eyes blazing. "Why does anyone tell Soahc anything?"
While Layol kept her eyes on Mrs. Evol, who was standing by her desk talking with the first group of students that would go out on their mission that day, she asked, "Do you think Bacs is afraid of her?"
Dekram's wings quivered and sprinkled a fine powder of yellow dust around her desk. "I am. Aren't you?" Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!
Layol's wings snapped like a sail catching the wind but not a sprinkle of dust fell. "Bloody-praying-mantis-crap! I won't let her scare me, or you."
Mrs. Evol did her hand-clapping thing and shot Layol an annoyed look because her obnoxious mantis remark had gotten the attention of the whole class.
The room slowly became quiet, and with amused looks on their faces, heads swiveled back in the teacher's direction. Mrs. Evol turned and handed papers to the six students hovering around her desk.
Boots frantically moving under her desk, Dekram scattered what remained of the fading yellow sparkles, eyes locked on Layol, as she whispered, "At least your outburst pulled everyone's attention off my flying sparkles."
Layol whispered a snap, "Don't sweat Soahc. I've come up with a Snipe'n plan."
Dekram opened her eyes and mouth wide. "As in shoot her dead?"
"Oh, my maliciously amusing fairy," Layol burbled. "You did not just ask me that?"
Mrs. Evol cleared her throat.
Dekram shot Layol a furrowed brow before both fairies turned in the teacher's direction.
"All right class, I will be dispatching the first group of six students in a few minutes, but before I do, each pair will explain their team's assignment. Your homework over the weekend will be to get together with your partners and write a report on how your team would choose to accomplish the three tasks. On Monday, we will go over some of your ideas before each group tells us what actually happened out in the field. Then we will discuss the possible ramifications of their actions."
One of the six students gasped, and four of the other five froze with wide eyes.
Mrs. Evol offered them a comforting smile. "There are always ramifications. How we follow up is part of your training. But our goal is to keep those consequences to a minimum and handle them swiftly and efficiently. Three Human Services representatives from Clean Up will be on hand to assist with those follow-ups during the week. And on Friday, I will dispatch the second group and we will repeat the process." She nodded a go-ahead to the fairy who had gasped.
Hovering erratically by Mrs. Evol's desk, the fairy raised her paper with shaky hands as her partner nervously watched. "Um…we have to discourage a middle-aged man from throwing lubricant into a stream behind his house after he changes the fluids in his automobile."
The frenzied tremor of multicolored wings blew her chin-length black hair about a pale blue face. Her anxiety filled gaze darted around the room as her classmates' scribbled notes.
Mrs. Evol turned to the second pair. "Which one of you would like to read your mission?"
Hcti, a male fairy with an annoying habit of scratching body parts that shouldn't be scratched in public, stepped forward. "I got it," he told his partner, a small girl with full lips the color of a magenta sunset, and timid gold eyes hidden behind long navy lashes. She wrapped clothed arms under the curve of an insignificant upper body and stepped back, making the rest of her dark blue skin look more like an accoutrement inside her stark white clothing.
Hcti's knees bowed as he pulled at the back of his jeans. "Our mission is more serious." He bounced a couple of times, shook his butt, shook his paper with both hands—evidently having accomplished his personal mission—and continued. "Some stupid mother puts her ten-month-old kid in a playpen right under a toxic bush." He waved the paper at his classmates. "For the love of Gabriel, she's an idiot! I guess keeping the kid out of the sun is more important than a couple of seizures, a dollop of cardiac arrhythmia, or a plethora of other ill effects, including death if the tyke starts sucking on plant bits and pieces. Am I right?"
Hcti turned to Mrs. Evol and immediately pulled the stupid grin off his face when he read the obvious disapproval on hers. "I'm just sayin'," he said to a backdrop of muffled laughter.
Mrs. Evol asked, "Is this an opportunity to re-address professionalism while in the field?" She gave Hcti a strained smile. "Should we pause to discuss it in-depth?"
"Nope," Hcti said, grabbing a handful of t-shirt in the center of his chest and rubbing vigorously. "I got it. Do the job—in and out in a hurry—no playing with the humans."
"Yes, well, that, and this is not about entertaining your fellow classmates. Do I make myself clear?"
"You got it. Me and my partner'll whip this un-maternal, uneducated fool into shape and be back before you can sing Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah." The class burst into laughter and Hcti looked very proud of his presentation.
Mrs. Evol?—not so much. "If you wish to go at all, I suggest you whip your unappreciated, comedic self into the proper behavior of a Human Services representative right now, or do I need to send a professional out with you?"
His partner's wings became animated, and a look of pleading hope registered in her liquid gold eyes.
Hcti bowed his head and kicked the air above the floor. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just excited."
"Excitement is good, but I think self-control is wiser," Mrs. Evol said, turning to the next group.
Dekram scribbled the second mission on her pad and whispered to Layol, "Pinocchio's blessed maker, I'm glad I'm not his partner. You?"
Layol picked up her pen as the third group stepped forward. "Sh-yeah, right? That mission is so headed for doom."
A small voice got their attention. "…and the teens are getting drunk, pushing over tombstones, and vandalizing graveyard property..."
Layol whipped her head in Dekram's direction. "Oh yeah, Soahc'll be begging a trade—sounds like those teens are kindred hominids."
"H-O-M-I-N-I-D," Dekram said, "a primate belonging to a family of which the modern human being is the only species still in existence." She grinned at her friend. "I wish Soahc was a monkey."
"Careful what ya wish for, fairy-girl," Layol said as they slapped hands and turned toward the fairy with the small voice, and her partner.
They wore horned-rimmed glasses; both were dressed in tan Dockers, leather loafers, button-down shirts with identical plastic holders in the breast pocket, pen and pencil peeking out. Nerds, they had adapted the persona of the Geek Squad.
"Yep, Soahc is gonna be all up on them," Layol said, shaking her head.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER they were sitting in the lunchroom with Nesohc. He'd snatched their favorite table in the back of
the room, and was dipping clover in thick cream and shoving it into his mouth between words. "So"—slurp—"I got up early and went to see Bacs again this morning "—slurp, chew, swallow—" and he said a Fire fairy was serving up the honey "—slurp—" but Soahc paid for the drinks."
"Soahc is goin' down," Layol said and dragged her tongue across a dollop of yogurt dripping from the edge of her veggie sandwich.
"Not so fast. Just because Soahc paid doesn't mean she tainted the drink," Nesohc said, picking up another clover stalk, purple flower attached.
"Back it up and hit rewind, bud." Layol shook her veggie sandwich at Nesohc. "You know she's goin' all Fire fairy with this deadly game."
Nesohc smiled and bit off the end of the clover stalk then shook his head.
Dekram laid her fork by her salad, placed both hands on the table, green eyes shooting sparks. "C'mon, Nes. She 'paid for' Bacs' drink. Soahc is all take, no give, and you know it."
Nesohc swallowed, laughed, and slapped the table. "Oh, heck yeah. You go tell your dad you're absolutely sure the Angel Trumpet was in the cup of honey and you're positive Soahc put it there 'cause she 'paid for' the drink. Yep, I bet he runs right out and arrests her." He sucked in the rest of the flower, dripping with cream, and out of the corner of his mouth, said, "You let me know how that works out for ya." Nesohc pulled a leaf from a dispenser on the table and swiped it across his lips, tilted his head, eyes serious. "Look Dek, I get it, I mean the video in the bathroom—the way she treats you."
"What video?" Layol forced a whisper.
Dekram frowned at Nesohc. "Soahc's friends caught me on film when I was trying to scrub that stain off my blouse."
"Tell me you don't think Soahc did it," Layol spat at Nesohc while pulling out her Smart Phone.
"Didn't say that," Nesohc said, crumbling up the leaf, and dropping it on his lunch tray. "Tell me you haven't bought a friend a drink. Doesn't mean you booby-trapped it. We just have to come up with some real proof."
"What if we all take turns following her?" Dekram blurted, hammering her fork into the dandelions on her plate as Layol's face hardened. I need to keep the conversation off that stupid video. "We could take pictures with our cell phones for proof."
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