Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3)

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Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3) Page 9

by Christina Bauer


  “Care to give any hints, oh small, orange, and irritating?”

  Peli grins. “No.”

  Rule frowns. “Who were you talking to just now?”

  “My invisible monkey.”

  “You are insane.” Rule’s eyes glow red. “It is as Aunt Bentford said.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t know the half of it.” I set my fists on my hips and scan the crowd. There are quasis and ghouls galore here. Which one is Peli’s? I know a way to find out. Since Herr Ghoul Capitan already thinks I’m unhinged, I might as well use it to my advantage.

  I turn to Rule. “My invisible orange friend says there’s a new requirement for today.”

  “I did?” asks Peli.

  “He did?” says Rule.

  “Absolutely. Every time I meet a new ghoul, they must show me their right shoulder, starting with you.”

  “Not fair,” grumbles Peli.

  Rule frowns, but points to his shoulder. Leave it to a ghoul to follow instructions without thinking.

  “Not your covered shoulder,” I state. “Your bare shoulder.” I gesture toward the neckline of his ghoul robes. “Just scooch that fabric over a little. If you can hide your dirty nails while you do it, that’s a bonus, but not a requirement.”

  Rule pulls the neckline as requested. Turns out, telling ghouls what to do is rather enjoyable. Stepping closer, I scan for any kind of mark. Peli’s ghoul should have a skull tattoo.

  But there’s nothing. Bummer.

  “Great skin,” I declare. “Thanks for sharing. Let’s check out all the other ghouls now.” I gesture across the crowd. “We can set up a conga line situation.”

  Rule’s mouth falls open with surprise. “Aren’t you going to enter the new high school? We have all sorts of statues in your likeness.”

  I wince. “Is that supposed to encourage me to go?”

  Rule steps closer. “Listen to me carefully. I just wrote a new Thought Mandate on the virtues of saffronia as extolled by the Great Scala. It is not yet published. Once the mandate goes out, Auntie and I will l share the profits. And you’ll get an easier time tomorrow at the Trials of Acca.”

  “How interesting.”

  “Glad we agree,” says Rule. “Now you shall enter this school and exclaim the delicious qualities of saffronia.” He slams his fist against his open palm. “Today you are my charge. You follow my dictates.”

  “Dude, I never followed the ghouls when I was a nobody Arena fighter. What makes you think I’ll cave in now that I’m the Great Scala?”

  “There’s an old saying of the ghouls. The coffin nail that sticks up, gets hammered down.”

  “Yeah, I know that one.”

  “I’m not alone in wishing changes. All the people of Purgatory loathe your attitude.”

  “That’s totally exaggerating. Plus, I have no time for this. Thanks to Peli here, a crazy earl is opening a gateway to the Primeval tomorrow. A monster tree is involved. That’s way more important than selling pee juice.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Rule.

  “You don’t need to. I’m monologuing. My point is, I need to find me a ghoul with a skull tattoo on his shoulder and nothing you say or do will stop me.”

  On a side note, all this standing around is turning the crowd downright rowdy. The mob pushes hard against the barricades and police. That happens a lot. What’s new is what they’re saying while pressing in.

  Hug me, Great Scala!

  Wear this scarf!

  Bless my bumper!

  I haven’t even closed the limo door yet, and already there’s trouble. This is some kind of personal record. I crook my finger toward Rule. The massive ghoul takes a baby step closer.

  “Here’s the deal. You line up everyone. I greet them. The ghouls will show me their shoulders.”

  Peli hops beside me. “That last part is totally optional.”

  “Quiet, Peli.” Let the record show that Peli does not shut up. He stops speaking but keeps making eee-eee noises.

  Rule folds his arms over his chest. Since he’s wearing ghoul robes, there’s a lot of loopy sleeve swoosh action that goes into the whole thing. Once he’s done, Rule glares at me. “That will never happen. You will smile, announce the delicious qualities of saffronia, and go home.”

  “Let’s get a second opinion on that, shall we?” Closing my eyes, I pull on my inner powers.

  Little ones, come to me.

  A blast of light sears in to the sky. Hundreds of igni fill the air. Each one is a tiny lightning bolt that hovers in place, glistening and lovely. The crowd falls silent. More and more igni appear. Soon millions of tiny lightning bolts fill the skies in every direction. Damn, they’re really motivated today. In my head, their tiny voices echo through my consciousness.

  Form a soul column

  Protect the Scala

  Send the ghoul to Hell

  I round on the ghoul captain. “Look, I could send you to Hell right now. Want an eternity of quality time with Armageddon? Just keep giving me lip.”

  Rule slowly nods. “I’ll organize the…”

  “Conga line,” I finish. In my mind, I send another message.

  Thanks, guys. I got it from here.

  But the igni are on a tear.

  We must send the ghoul away.

  Now, now, now!

  We’ve had these fights before, and I know the quickest way to end them.

  Who’s the Great Scala here?

  A moment later, the igni vanish.

  Because who’s the Great Scala? I’m the Great Scala.

  In short order, everyone is lined up. First to appear is the Old Timer, one of my ex-teachers from school. He’s still a wrinkly and undead coot who sports one-half of a loopy mustache. He greets me with a huge smile.

  “I came to get a picture with my favorite filly.”

  Major lie.

  The Old Timer and I were never buds. Unless you counting forcing someone to make worm soufflé a social outing. I’d correct the Old Timer, but the guy is ancient as dirt and dead to boot. Who cares if he wants to pretend we were friends? Besides, I have more important priorities.

  “Pull back your ghoul robes and show me your bare shoulder. Then you can take a picture.”

  The Old Timer’s bushy brows pull together in a show of confusion. Still, he does as asked. The shoulder gets revealed. No mark to speak of. Grr. An older quasi lady with long stringy hair and Polaroid camera takes a snap of us both.

  “Thanks and keep moving,” I state.

  One down. Five thousand to go.

  Damn. I’ll be here all night.

  20

  Myla

  After hours of speaking the same stuff over and over, particular words stick in brain.

  Nice to meet you. Show me your shoulder. Say cheese. Next!

  There were ghouls.

  So many ghouls.

  But none of them with marks.

  Ugh.

  I’m half asleep as I limp out of my limo and back into my parents’ house. That was a lot of pictures with ghouls. And since most undeadlies have the latest technology, it was a lot of selfies with ghouls.

  Yes, ghouls all have fancy hand held devices.

  Meanwhile, Purgatory doesn’t even have cable.

  I’m so glad I kicked those undeadlies out.

  Speaking of phones, I haul my ass to the kitchen, pick up the receiver from the wall, and rotary dial Cissy’s office. She picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey, Myla.”

  “Hi, girlfriend.” I always check in after a big event.

  “You had quite the Scala Bleugh, huh? Not in the mood to listen to ghoul directions?”

  “Hey, I’d have done what that Captain Rule guy wanted, but I’ve got issues with the Trials of Acca tomorrow.”

  “So you stripped down thousands of ghouls.”

  “Eew! I had them show me one shoulder. Who wants to see naked ghouls?”

  “That Rule guy published some official paper on ho
w you’re out to rape and pillage all the Dark Lands. It seems you started today.”

  “Gross. Now I need to clean out my brain with bleach.”

  “We need to counter this.”

  “I took five thousand selfies with happy ghouls. Let that be my statement.”

  “This is the Thought Police. That paper will be a problem.”

  “Ghouls are always trouble. They get pissy if their worm soufflé is cold. I ran them out of Purgatory. Do you think they’ll ever drop their grudge against me?”

  I hear a shuffle of papers on the other side of the line. “Well, quasis have been flipping out and calling my office non-stop. Did the binder help at all?”

  Here comes what Dad calls a crossroads of conscience. I could lie, but I’m a sucky liar. And even when I’m playing my best unethical game, Cissy can always tell anyway.

  So here comes the truth.

  “This is going to sound unbelievable, but a monkey stole my binder.”

  “A monkey. A MONKEY. Did you say a monkey?”

  “I did. His name’s Peli.”

  “I just received a pile of selfie pics from tonight’s Scala Bleugh. None show a monkey.”

  “There’s a simple reason for that. Peli’s invisible.”

  And because Peli is also annoying, a swirl of orange smoke appears by my feet. A moment later, the orange dude himself appears. He’s all smiles. My tail points at his head. Not in an I’ll cut you way. More of a warning to keep distance. Like me, my tail is still undecided about Peli in general.

  “Hellooooooo, Myla!” Peli follows up his greeting with lots of eee-eee noises and jumping around the kitchen countertops. Peli even whips out our silverware drawer and drops it to the floor. What a racket. At least my parents aren’t home. They left for their Purgatory tour hours ago.

  “What’s going on over there?” asks Cissy.

  “I told you. Peli.”

  “The invisible monkey who stole your binder.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “And you didn’t ask me for another one because?”

  “I did. Didn’t you get the message?”

  “No.”

  “Hold on a sec.” I focus on Peli. “Did you erase my message to Cissy?”

  Peli rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

  That’s when it happens. I moved my Demon Bars to the kitchen for breakfast. Now Peli approaches that sacred box while waving his arms around. A haze of orange smoke encircles the container. I glare at Peli for all I’m worth. “If you make my Demon Bars vanish, I will hunt you down.” My eyes flare with demon light. “Stop. That. Now.”

  The orange haze leaves my Demon Bar box. Instead, the colored cloud flies over to encircle Peli. A moment later, the monkey vanishes again. Good riddance to a bad monkey.

  I set the receiver against my ear once more. “Sorry about that.”

  “Do I even want to know what’s really happening?”

  “Probably not.” Now that the Demon Bars are safe, that box looks mighty tempting. I step across the floor, stopping when my tail is in range. “Got else anything for me, Cis?” My tail knows what to do. It spears the box and drags it close enough that I can dive in.

  I pat the arrowhead end. “Nice job, boy.”

  “That Captain Rush wants to watch the Trials of Acca tomorrow. Any issues?”

  “I don’t know. He’s kind of a dick.”

  “He says he’s considering writing a new Thought Police mandate that supports your parents suggestions to change soul processing.”

  “False. He wants me to say I like drinking pee.”

  A long pause follows before Cissy speaks again. “Unlike the invisible monkey thing, I totally buy that fact. Ghouls are gross.”

  “Do you think he’ll really publish the mandate?” I ask. “Not the one about pee.”

  “It’s possible. My interns did a profile on him. Sometimes he’s actually a good guy. Rule published a mandate last month to encourage ghouls to try the arts. In his opinion, that means playing video games. Still, it’s a start.”

  “Okay. Anything to help fix soul processing. Let Rule in.” Cissy’s staff are really good at making sure they get the right approvals for transfer central and all that.

  “Speaking of your parents,” Cissy pauses.

  “What?”

  “I was thinking about the Trial of Acca tomorrow.” She leaves a long pause where I’m supposed to fill in the blank. Which I do, no problem. It’s obvious what Cissy’s really asking.

  “You don’t need to go to the Trials of Acca, Cis.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s a battle trial in Antrum. I’m not worried.”

  Yes, there’s still the threat of a demon tree, but honestly? I consider that more of a perk than a danger.

  “Okay, Myla.” Cissy lets out the mother of all yawns. “It’s late. Good night, girlfriend.”

  Hearing Cissy yawn makes every cell in my body scream for rest. That was a lot of ghoul stuff today. “To you, too.”

  We hang up. A few minutes later, I’m under my sheets and half asleep. That’s when a little voice sounds echoes in my mind. It sounds a lot like Peli.

  You’ve no idea what you’re in for, do you?

  And to be honest, that voice is absolutely right.

  21

  Lincoln

  After my visit to the Primeval, I wake up to find Peli has given a repeat performance. Once again, the monkey moved me to my own bed. Lifting my arm, I find that Peli has also placed me in a new set of orange pajamas, only these sport a rubber ducky pattern.

  I shake my head. Peli really is an enjoyable rogue.

  Rolling over, I check my grandfather clock. It’s Friday. 2 am. The Trials of Acca take place at 10 am.

  My head feels groggy, which is why I don’t register the large blue orbs staring at me from the foot of the bed. At least, not for a moment or two. Soon it becomes clear that they’re actually a set of luminous blue eyes.

  I yawn. “Hello, Peli.”

  “Did you enjoy your trip to my past?”

  “It’s enlightening.” I yawn. “But still rather vague. I only know the most basic facts about the Primeval.” Pulling off my covers, I set my bare feet on the chilly floor.

  “Are you off to see Baptiste and Nat?”

  For a second, I debate lying to Peli. There’s no point, however. Never trick a trickster.

  “They won’t be awake yet,” I reply. “I’m off to see Mother. She doesn’t sleep much.” I crack my neck. “If I’m right, then my parents spent yesterday negotiating the true terms of Myla’s so-called Trials of Acca. I must suss out what’s coming.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Peli leaps up to land beside me on the mattress. “You don’t yet know enough about the Primeval.”

  “Correct.”

  “You aren’t off to see Nat and Baptiste.”

  “Right again.”

  “And you do plan to see your Mother and figure out Aldred’s tests for Myla.”

  “Bingo. I’m also rather groggy. I do wish you’d put some actual rest into your sleep spells. I need to be at my sharpest today.”

  “Excellent point.” Peli gives me his worst grin. I’m talking the one that resembles the tin cymbal monkey. Fresh orange smoke fills the air.

  Oh, Hell.

  He’s at it again.

  22

  Lincoln

  Another spell from Peli. This is becoming a theme.

  When the magical haze is gone, I find myself standing in the orange jungle that borders on the Golden Arbor. Simian territory. Tangerine-colored trees loom overhead, their wide leaves glistening with rivulets of water. The ground lies spongy beneath my feet. The scent of fresh rain carries on the air.

  A figure marches along a nearby path. The Contagion. His skin glistens with gold and is marked by the swirling pattern of wood grain. Quilliam once had downy crests of fur protruding from his cheeks. As the Contagion, that fluff is replaced with golden twigs and tiny leaves.


  “Come out, come out wherever you are!” The Contagion’s long legs tear up the ground with confidence. His every movement screams, I’m the baddest thing in this jungle.

  Then, the Contagion steps on a certain spot.

  Snap!

  Loops of metal encircle his ankles, holding him in place. Fresh magic billows around him.

  And it’s orange.

  Young Peli must have cast this spell.

  When the smoke clears, the Contagion stands in a blasted out pit. Turns out, the evil wizard has been transported to the very spot where the Golden Arbor had once stood. Young Peli waits nearby, his face tight with rage.

  The Contagion pulls on his leg. He can’t break free from his bindings. Based on the lack of magic, the Contagion can’t cast either.

  “Whatever spell you’ve placed on this trap, I will end it. Then I will finish you.”

  “You went after my family,” says Young Peli slowly.

  “What did you expect? I couldn’t find you.”

  “Wrong decision.”

  Young Peli lifts his hands. Orange light glows from his palms. A wizard’s staff appears in his left hand; the carving for his staff’s peak materializes in his right. I step closer, seeking a better look. Sure enough, Young Peli has summoned the true peak for his wizard’s staff—a carving that shows all four faces of Peli’s family .

  The Contagion pauses. “What you gave me before… that carving didn’t contain all your magic?”

  “See for yourself,” says Young Peli. He sets the new peak atop his wizard’s staff. Instantly, the carving glows.

  Young Peli stalks up to the trapped Contagion. “You held me back, hid me from court. I accepted all that. By hurting my family, you tore the heart out of me. Now I’ll return the favor.”

  Young Peli’s right hand glows with magic. Little by little, Young Peli curls his fingers into a fist. Time seems to slow as Peli reaches forward, his knuckles brushing against the Contagion’s chest.

 

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