OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2)

by Shields, Sutton

  Ophelia tried to freeze the swarm of dresses, but it only slowed them for a blip.

  “You can’t freeze a curse,” said Meikle. “Only a witch’s counter-curse can stop a witch’s curse.”

  “You might want to think about countering the curse pretty much immediately,” I said as the group of mannequins methodically stepped out of the front window display; in their arms, they carried hot glue guns and aimed them at our heads.

  “Think those glue guns are magically enhanced?” asked Ophelia.

  Flowing like high-pressure water from a fireman’s hose, the mannequins fired streams of hot glue at our faces.

  “Oh Dear God,” I cried, flinging my hands up, creating a gel shield to protect us.

  “Um, it’s melting the shield! It’s melting the shield!” yelped Airianna.

  “Meeks! Now would be good,” I said, barely missing a hanger to the eye.

  Meikle popped up, holding her hands at her sides. “Watch this. The curse you cast cannot survive when one that’s greater doth arrive; to the stands from which you came with no one but yourself to blame, for losing to a witch with better game.”

  The dresses returned to their places on walls or racks, while the hot glue gun-toting mannequins dropped their weapons and repositioned themselves in their window.

  “You wrote a spell?” said Ophelia.

  “That book the crazy doc gave me has helped up my technique to badass,” she said, smiling.

  “Um, ‘losing to a witch with better game?’” I said, quoting her spell. “You’re getting massive, Meeks.”

  Still smiling like a devil, she said cheekily, “I know.”

  “I wonder who the witch is that cast the curse in the first place,” said Airianna. “There aren’t any other witches in Saxet Shores.”

  “Unless they’re visiting for the Overfalls,” I said.

  “Or Madame Helena,” said Meikle.

  “You lot done yet?” shouted Jex in as hushed a voice as possible. We walked out of Neva’s dress shop, only to be stopped by Jex, who was horrified by the nasty cuts and bruises on our faces. “What the hell happened?”

  “Dresses attacked, mannequins shot at us with hot glue guns…you know, your typical night in Saxet Shores,” I said.

  “Good Christ,” said Jex. “Remind me never to pretend to do nasty things on a mannequin again.”

  Ick. “How about I pretend you never did?”

  “Works for me,” he said. “We’re done?”

  “Nope. We’re off to the toy shop, over there,” I said, pointing directly across the street. Airianna moved my arm to aim it a bit more diagonally. “Uh, over and down there.”

  “Aw, now, that’s more like it! Meikle can stay with Maile this time,” said Jex, spreading his wings. “I’m-a-goin’ to the toy shop.”

  “Two things. First…seriously? And second, if the dresses were cursed, I have no doubt the toys will be, too. We’ll need Meeks,” I said, following Airianna into the street.

  “Two answers. First…hell yes. A man never outgrows his train set and baseball glove, unless, of course, they’re raised on the video game tripe of today. And second…fine, Meeks goes in, Ophelia stays out.”

  “Very okay with that,” said Ophelia. “I’ll take the air over a cursed store any day.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Maile, stopping halfway across the street.

  From either end of the main street, two large groups of towering dark figures moved towards us, sandwiching us smack between them.

  “This isn’t good,” I said. “Maile, can you see what they look like?”

  “What you see is what I see,” she replied. “Tall, dark, and shadowy.”

  I shook my head and shrugged. “Just once, why couldn’t we get tall, dark, and handsome? Or, here’s an idea, how about short, furry, and cuddly?”

  “Keep dreaming,” said Meikle.

  “At least it’s not fast, fanged, and fiery,” said Airianna.

  “Yeah, yet,” I muttered.

  “Aw, you know what those are? They’re Shadow Wearers. Haven’t slapped shadows with them in a long time,” said Jex, smiling. “They survive off consuming shadows. They’ll seek a person’s shadow, use it to strangle the owner, and then it’s ‘hello, pretty new shadow to wear!’”

  He was way too enthusiastic. “Okay, but it’s a dark, moonless night on a lamp-less street. Whose shadow do they think they’re gonna get, exactly?”

  “Ah, well, that’s the rub. They don’t need light to call a shadow. Look to your left sides, kiddies,” said Jex.

  “Mother effer,” growled Meikle. “We have shadows.”

  “Shadows that are not flat on the ground, are standing as tall as we are…and are turning to stare us down,” I said, racking my brain for an idea. “Ophelia, maybe freeze them?”

  “Can’t freeze shadows,” said Jex in a singsong voice. He was far too calm for my liking, and it was pissing me off.

  Watching the Shadow Wearers close in on us, I said, “Uh, okay, maybe a spell?”

  “Can’t fight 'em with a cute little witch’s spell.”

  “Hey…watch who you’re calling cute,” said Meikle.

  “Okay, then maybe Maile could flash the beam, or I could encase us in a giant gel shield-bubble thing until we get into the toy shop.”

  “They have a love affair with light and can move through your gel shield like crap through a baby bird.”

  Stomping my foot, I yelled, “Well, exactly how do we defeat them?”

  “Need a demon to fight 'em,” said Jex, the corners of his mouth fighting the urge to curl into a sarcastic smile.

  “Well, isn’t that just fabulous. The one thing I left at home,” I said. “Here, Airi, take Troy’s phone, call my house, and have Polly get here immediately. Maybe I could buy us some time.”

  “No time to buy, Savior,” said Jex. “You’re about to get the chokehold.”

  “Wh—at?” My shadow had its hands around my throat; it squeezed so hard, I could see little sparks in the corners of my eyes. “Po—ll—s…”

  “Like I said, no time. She’s not quick enough,” said Jex in such a cavalier manner, you would think he wanted me to die.

  My friends all tried to attack my shadow, but they might as well have been trying to punch a ghost. Feeling my life start to lift from my weakening body, the fruitless attempts at breathing all but ceased, I wondered if heaven allowed a little one-on-one ass-whoopin’ time with Fate herself. I mean, this was a truly craptastic way to die—murdered by my own traitorous shadow. How completely lame!

  “DO SOMETHING! SAVE HER!” shouted Airianna.

  “Can’t. Only a demon can…ah, right on cue.” Jex grinned down the street at an airborne figure crashing through the first batch of Shadow Wearers like an angry, spinning bowling ball scattering a giant set of pins. “Give him a little light, Maile.”

  When Maile’s beacon illuminated the flying figure, my heart soared: Troy. Just as my vision started to blur and my throat made those last strange sounds before life greeted finality, the hands around my neck vanished. Falling to my knees and peering down the other end of the street where Troy vanquished the remaining Shadow Wearers, I coughed and gasped for air.

  “Are you okay?” asked Airianna, kneeling beside me, rubbing my back.

  “Think so,” I wheezed, trying to clear my throat.

  A sudden gust of cold air sent my hair flying straight back, and in that instant, Troy appeared by side. He didn’t look well. Sweat poured from his face, and his eyes kept shifting from caring to empty as he studied my face, almost begging his mind to recognize me. His whole body quivered. He was fighting his demon side.

  “Troy…”

  “You…okay?” he said, trying to force the demon back into submission.

  “Thanks to you.” I placed his hand on my arm. “Squeeze my arm as much as it hurts.”

  Troy’s trembling slowed, his eyes no longer showing signs of darkness within. “That’s like what
I told you last New Year’s Eve, when you were stung by the squid.”

  “And it worked, too, just like it’s working now.” I kissed him softly, gently wiping some of the sweat from his brow.

  “See, then? No harm, no foul,” said Jex.

  “You crazy son of a bitch!” Troy leaped from my side, jumped Jex, and threw him to the ground, choking him.

  “H-ey. It—wasn’t…me,” Jex croaked.

  Troy’s eyes started shifting again. “Troy, let him go. He’s telling the truth. This was all part of The Dealer’s cover-up in case we came snooping. The dress shop was even rigged with a witch’s curse. Jex may be an arrogant jackass, but he’s not an evil one. Come on.” I grabbed Troy’s arm, but he shoved me off; when he turned around to face me, I didn’t know him. “Troy. Come back to me. Please.”

  Keeping his eyes glued to mine, he released Jex, helped him up, and pressed his palms against his temples. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shh. No apologies. You did what you had to do to save us. Now, how would you like to go to the toy store?”

  “Um, you really think I deserve a treat for going demon?”

  “Oh, uh, not what I meant. But, now you mention it…I may have a more personalized treat in store for you.”

  “Oh, for bleeding sake! We have to go to the bloody toy store to get a bloody name and hopefully find a bloody address,” said Jex, flapping his wings.

  “Can we just do this toy shop thing already?” said Meikle.

  “I have the door open.” Standing in the doorway of Macallister’s Toy Shop, waving a feather, was Airianna.

  “You pluck one of my feathers, Airi?”

  “Didn’t have to. When Troy lunged at you, one fell out. I just seized an opportunity.”

  “Feathers falling out? At your angel age? Ouch.” Troy cocked his head, grimaced, and stole a wink at me.

  “If my wings are caught up in an assault by a bloody demonic lunatic, then hell yes they’re going to fall out. Drungo,” said Jex, subtly checking his feather-thickness.

  Ophelia and Maile took positions outside the toy shop while the rest of us went inside. Airianna and Meikle were already rifling through papers when we walked in. Macallister’s was an old-fashioned toymaker’s shop; every wooden soldier, toy train, model airplane, sweet-faced doll, and cuddly teddy bear was handmade. I may be a child of today, with its fantastic technology and gadgets, but there was a certain irreplaceable charm about yesteryear that made me wish I had lived during those simpler times.

  “I’m loving this baby owlet,” I said coyly, cuddling a small baby owl with huge golden eyes. “Sometimes, I wish…”

  Troy caressed my arm. “You’re not the only one wishing to be seven again.” From behind me, he “flew” a model airplane around my head, even making airplane noises.

  “Look at the shiny train set! Wee, watch it go round and round,” said Jex, switching it on. “And a pirate ship! This one shoots cannons. Nice touch. Here we go, shoot your cannons, me matey.”

  “Uh, I wouldn’t turn those on, Jex,” shouted Meikle.

  Apparently, playing with the toys was the trigger: the plane no longer needed Troy’s hand to fly it as it fired freely at his head and mine; Jex’s pirate ship aimed their canons at his wings; the soldiers around the shop shot their guns, fired their cannons, and stabbed us with their swords; we had to dodge flying samurai swords, dolls and bears throwing wooden blocks, witch dolls casting curses as quick as Meikle could counter them, and race cars slamming into our feet. And, of course, there were the mer-toys: mer-dolls sending trident blasts bouncing off the walls; large inflatable sharks, whales, and jellyfish beating us over the head.

  “Naughty monkey! Give me that!” said Airianna, scolding a mischievous stuffed monkey playing tug of war with a stack of papers.

  “Ouch!” I said, still clutching the only friendly toy in the shop. “Ooh! Bad toys! You give a certain space ranger action figure and pull-string cowboy doll a bad, bad name! What would…ouch…Santa say?” Flying planes pelted me with bullets as the jellyfish flotation toy squeezed its tentacles around my stomach. Troy popped the jellyfish, causing it to deflate and fall to the floor. He tried to protect my head with his arms, but the bullets and bombs kept dropping, hurting him as much as me. “Meeks!”

  “Working on it!” she shouted. “Can’t get a break from these witch dolls. Miserable stitched bitches!”

  “Effing soldier made my feathers bleed,” said Jex, flicking the toy soldiers onto the floor.

  “Aw, I can’t take it.” I dropped my little stuffed owl, threw my arms out to the side, and screamed, “ENOUGH!” KABOOM! Every toy in the shop exploded. “Oh Dear God. I killed the toys.”

  “Looks like the Savior has a new talent. Blow-'em-up hands,” said Jex.

  “What in heaven’s name is going on in here?” asked Ophelia, poking her head through the front door.

  “Marina murdered the toys,” said Jex.

  “Move! Let me in! Oh my!” Mrs. Waterberry, dressed in her nightgown, robe, and fluffy blue slippers, gazed disbelievingly around Macallister’s broken toy store. “Marina, who did this?”

  “I killed the toys.”

  “She’s distraught,” said Troy.

  “Well, no matter. You lot have to get out of here, now. Woke up half the town, you did! Ravenflame police are on their way!” Mrs. Waterberry grabbed us by the arms (or wings) and shoved us out the door.

  “Police? But what about the murdered toys?” I said.

  “I—I’ll figure something out. Macallister has always been sweet on me. Just get out of here!”

  “GOT IT!” yelped Airianna, waving a yellow slip of paper.

  Once we were all in the street, Mrs. Waterberry told us to run and slammed the door on us; a dull pink and purple glow filled the shop.

  “What’s she doing?” asked Maile.

  “Trying to un-kill some of the toys,” said Troy, keeping me tucked against him. “Airi, what’d you find?”

  “The Dealer.”

  “WHAT?” I said, finally erasing the vision of obliterated toys from my mind.

  “Mallorey Sloane ordered the dolls. She’s staying in room three hundred at the Saxet Shores Inn,” said Airianna.

  “Ah, and off we go to face a hotel curse,” said Jex. “Survived a few of these. Just remember to stay out of elevators, avoid trash shoots, run from men carrying axes, and never speak to strange twins haunting hallways who claim they want to play.”

  “Clever-cute,” I said.

  Jex grinned. “I thought so.”

  “Hurry! I hear police sirens!” said Ophelia.

  We ran as fast as we could for the ‘No Vacancy’ sign in front of a quaint yellow and white structure. Four wicker rocking chairs and two porch swings welcomed visitors to the inn; it was hardly the kind of place a cold-blooded killer would stay.

  “Maile, watch the elevators. Ophelia, you keep an eye on the stairs. The rest of us will head to The Dealer’s room. Jex, distract the desk clerk,” I said. “Tell her you have an angel cousin coming to town or something.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work my charm,” he said.

  “You’ll be working up a sweat, then,” Troy quipped.

  Once Jex had the desk clerk batting her eyes and twisting her hair around her finger, we made our move. With Troy, Meikle, and Airi by my side, we hurried up the stairs to the third floor.

  Standing in front of room number three hundred, I took a deep breath.

  “Should we knock?” asked Airianna.

  “I think not,” I said, kicking the door open.

  Tied to a chair facing the door was a woman with mascara-stained cheeks, odd, sallow skin, and terrified eyes.

  “Please, please. Go. Run,” she cried.

  “Mallorey, right?” I said, moving to untie her.

  “Yes, but please don’t come any closer,” she warned. “There’s a curse on me. If you touch me, we both die.”

  “My magic’s not working,” said Meikle. “She’s no
t responding.”

  “Mallorey, who did this to you?” Troy asked.

  Shaking her head, she whimpered, “I don’t know. When I got to my hotel room on Halloween, I had a note at the front desk about some doll order. I never ordered any dolls.”

  “And you never saw who tied you to the chair?” asked Airianna.

  “No. Whoever it was knocked me unconscious and never said anything.”

  “Is there anything at all you remember before being knocked out?” I asked.

  “No, I—wait. Yes. There was this odd smell, like bleach and vinegar. And there was a music box play—”

  Suddenly, a frighteningly deep, slow whisper filled the room. “Devious deeds deliver dastardly developments.”

  Mallorey’s body slammed into the ceiling fan, sending its pieces flying across the room like helicopter propellers; we watched in horror as her body scraped back and forth across the ceiling. Though her mouth screamed for help, her voice couldn’t be heard, for it was muted by a simple music box tune…a tune I recognized all too well.

  “Duet,” said the deadly whisper.

  “Over, over, over she falls.” I sang with the whispering voice, terrifying not only myself, but my friends as well.

  Mallorey dropped from the ceiling, landing on the bed, soaking wet.

  “FREEZE! POLICE!”

  *****

  Sitting on the steps of the inn, we all waited while police talked with Mrs. Waterberry, Luxton Vipor, Madame Helena, Mom, Mr. Gibbs, Jex…and Doctor Tenly. For some reason, his principal look was especially messy and, truthfully, very, very scary. Mom and Mr. Gibbs brought Polly and Gully; Polly just kept shaking her head at me, while Gully…followed a pixie around the yard.

  “Marina, you sang with The Dealer,” said Airianna.

  “It’s what the undines sang to me during the first match.”

  Troy squeezed my hand. “It’s not your fault, what happened to Mallorey.”

  “If I hadn’t done what the voice said…she might be alive,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

  “Would have been a long shot, since she was already dead,” said Jex, walking up behind us.

  Shaking my head, I said, “What? No, we were talking to—”