I laugh. “Okay, everyone hates painting. Got it. I can do it myself, if you guys are willing to grate the door and window frames and fix the floors and ceilings.”
“No problem,” they say in unison.
“Great, I left my toolkit downstairs. I’ll go get it. I have to change anyway, if I don’t want to ruin my clothes.”
“I’ll help you,” Vicky says a bit too fast.
Taylar clicks his tongue. “You need help getting dressed? Poor you.”
Vicky pushes her upper body against mine and gives me a long kiss. “He doesn’t, but it’s more fun together.”
Jeep snorts. “Oh please. Get a room.”
Vicky points at the annex behind us. “We have a room.”
Taylar walks into it and yells. “Not right now! I’m fixing the floor here.”
I give him a thumbs up when he looks around the corner. “Good idea. I’ll get you some tools.”
When Vicky and I reach the bottom of the stairs, there’s a knock on the door.
I open it to find my best friend.
“How is everything here?” Charlie asks.
I shrug. “It’s alright.”
He steps inside and follows us to the kitchen. I fill him in on the latest news and happenings and he seems happy to help me paint.
“Did you find Paul?” I ask, handing him the tool box. “You’ve been gone a while.”
He closes up his Hawaiian shirt before taking the box from me. “No, he’s gone into hiding. So either he’s scared of us now that we’ve taken out Simon, the Minotaur and the ghoul, or he’s planning some kind of attack.”
I put on my work shoes and follow him upstairs. “We should probably assume the latter.”
We leave the tool box and Vicky with the Shield and go into Taylar’s room.
After looking around it for a bit, we come to the conclusion that we only need to paint the ceiling.
Charlie pulls at the back of the bed. “Help me move the furniture.”
I put down the can of paint. “We can’t, everything is bolted to the floor.”
Charlie gets on his knees. “You’re right. Why is that?”
“Good question. I’ve been meaning to ask Taylar about that. The others say it has something to do with unfinished business.”
In the blink of an eye, Charlie is back on his feet and out the door. “Hey Taylar, can you come help us for a minute?”
The white-haired ghost appears a second later. “What’s up?”
Charlie shifts his gaze to me and I sit down on the bed. “There’s something we should talk about.”
Taylar shakes some dust out of his hair. “Okay.”
I wring my hands together. “I want what’s best for you and the rest of the Shield. Vicky’s and Jeep’s episodes are nasty, but we’re prepared for them. In order to keep all of us safe, I have to know what’s going on with you.”
He shuffles his feet. “Nothing is going on with me.”
Silence descends on us. When he finally looks up, I give him a stern look. “If you tell me the truth, Taylar, I might be able to help you. Why is every piece of furniture in your room bolted to the floor and why do you have pictures under your bed?”
He plays with the hammer in his hand and stares right past me. “I don’t know.”
His whole body has tightened and the joy has left his eyes.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t blame you for anything. Just tell me the truth.”
For a moment it looks like he’s fighting an inner battle. It’s not until he answers with “Yes, master” that I realize he has to do as I tell him.
With a gentle push I lead him to the bed. He starts talking as soon as he sits down. “As you might already know, I was left by my parents when I was young.”
“How young?” Charlie interrupts.
“Eight.”
I puff up my cheeks. “Wow, that’s tough, man.”
He doesn’t respond. “When they kicked me out because I cost too much money, my brother Lleyton followed me. He had just turned eleven at the time. He packed some clothes and food and we took shelter in an abandoned house. We lived there for more than a year. He protected me.”
“How did you survive?” I ask. “Where did you get food?”
“My brother was a big fan of Robin Hood, so he suggested to steal food from the rich. We did fine for a while, but one of those rich guys planted a trap. Lleyton walked right into it.”
Charlie takes a bar of chocolate out of his pocket and hands it to Taylar. “Here, take some.”
“Thanks.” He takes off the wrapper and stuffs a big chunk into his mouth. “We used to eat chocolate all the time, because that’s what the rich kids kept in their rooms. The healthy things were too difficult to prepare without electricity anyway, so we kept it simple. We lived on raw vegetables, cake and candy and soup.” He takes another bite from the bar in his hand and stares in the distance. I can almost see what he sees. Two young boys struggling to survive, camping out in an old, drafty house.
“Tell me about the trap,” I say.
His face contracts in sorrow as he continues. “The man we robbed put a tracking spell on Lleyton. He followed us home and released a gravity pixie. That night we-”
I hold up my hands. “Hold on, hold on. A what?”
“A gravity pixie. You know what a pixie is, right?”
“Sure, it’s a bit like a fairy, isn’t it? Small, with wings and a nasty appetite for mischief?”
He munches up the rest of the chocolate. “Exactly. Only their mischief can be very dangerous. Especially if it’s a gravity pixie.”
Charlie gives the bolts under the bed a kick. “I have a feeling I know where this is going, and it makes perfect sense to me to install bolts.”
I give Taylar an encouraging nod. “Please go on, I know nothing about gravity pixies.”
The young ghost wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “They’re the worst kind. Let me show you.”
A flash of light blinds me. My insides are pulled in every direction and I wave my hands in search of support.
CHAPTER 22
A second later I stop moving. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and carefully open my eyes.
I’m standing in the middle of a mess. Shards of wood form bridges between torn furniture and piles of garbage. Icy wind blows up mini tornados of dust everywhere.
I make my way around the sharp ends sticking out everywhere and notice a semi clean mattress in the opposite corner. There’s a cluster of blankets and rugs in all shapes and sizes on it. A low wooden stool serves as a bedside table, where an old children’s book waits silently next to a green apple. Something sticks out of the book and I reach for it. My hand goes straight through. I pull back and examine my arm. It looks normal.
When I look over my shoulder at the spot where I arrived, I notice there are no footprints.
So I can’t touch anything here. That’s too bad. It would have made exploring easier.
But there’s no need to look around further, because a noise disturbs the quiet air. I whirl around and see a head pushing through the open window. A blond head.
A boy that looks a lot like Taylar climbs inside and holds out his hands. “Okay, push it up.”
A large bag slowly becomes visible and the boy pulls it through the window. Gently, he sets it down beside him and turns back to the window. Another blond head appears. This one is a bit younger. It must be Taylar.
“Grab my hand, T.,” the boy inside says. “I’ll pull you up.”
Taylar shakes his head. “No, I can do it.”
His brother steps back. “I know you can, you’re the best climber in town.”
Young Taylar hauls himself onto the windowsill with ease and slides inside. “The best climber in the country, Lley.”
Lleyton laughs. “Of course, that’s what I meant.”
Taylar dives for the bag. “Is it st
ill intact?” He pulls the rope that ties it and carefully takes something out.
“Yeah!” Lleyton cheers.
They share a high five.
Taylar holds up a small fish bowl, with a lonely goldfish in it. “Welcome to our family, Bubbles.”
He walks to the stool and throws the book and the apple onto the mattress. Carefully he places the fish bowl on the makeshift night stand.
My gaze shifts to the mattress. A photograph has slid from the pages of the book. I recognize it from when I drew a pentagram under Taylar’s bed. He still has this picture.
Lleyton goes to another room to put away the food they brought.
Meanwhile Taylar sits down and picks up the children’s book. “Would you like to hear a story, Bubbles?”
He flips to the first page, but before he can start reading, there’s a shout of panic from behind the door.
Taylar is on his feet in the blink of an eye. He grabs the torn armrest of a chair from behind the mattress and slowly approaches the door. “Lleyton?”
He raises his weapon when a loud crash echoes through the house. In one swift move he opens the door and runs through it, yelling like a madman.
“Watch out!” His brother shouts.
He ducks and a pan flies over his head and slams against the wall. As dust crumbles to the floor, the boys are lifted off their feet.
Taylar presses the armrest closely to his chest, while he spins through the air.
“Put us down!” Lleyton shouts. “We didn’t do anything to you.”
Something the size of a sparrow zooms up and hovers in front of him. Taylar watches it upside down.
“No,” it says in a high-pitched voice, “but you stole from my master for the second time. You have to be punished.”
Lleyton grabs a kitchen cabinet and tries to pull himself back to the ground. “Your master has enough food to feed the whole of Africa! Can’t he spare a little for the poor?”
The creature waves a tiny finger. “That is not for you to decide.”
Taylar has managed to steer himself upright. “There’s no arguing with a pixie, Lley.” He swings the armrest and hits the creature in the gut.
It smacks against the wall hard and the boys fall down.
Lleyton hits his head against the kitchen counter and Taylar hurries over to him. “Are you okay?”
His brother blinks. “Fine.”
Blood drips from the side of his head and Taylar shoves the armrest into his hands. “Hold this and hit the thing if it comes back. I’ll get something to put on your head.”
While Taylar goes back to the other room, I see the pixie’s wings fluttering.
“Watch out, it’s awake,” I say before realizing they can’t hear me.
Lleyton is staring at the doorway in a daze. He hasn’t noticed the pixie getting up and balling her small fists in anger. She shoots up to the ceiling and lets out a high shriek. The whole house creaks and moans as everything in it is lifted. The walls tremble and the dust that falls from it moves to the right instead of down. Lleyton is thrown against the doorpost. The armrest slips from his hands. Blood trickles sideways from his head.
There’s a shout from the other room and Lleyton pushes himself through the doorway.
“Hold on!” he yells to Taylar.
The pixie soars after him and I follow on the ground. It feels strange to walk when everything around me is floating.
The bedroom has turned into a death trap. There are sharp and heavy objects everywhere, and in the middle of it all, the pixie waves her arms.
“We’re sorry!” Lleyton calls out. “We will give everything back to your master.”
“Too late,” the pixie answers in a chirpy tone. “You steal, you get punished.”
Lleyton stretches his arm towards a wooden board that’s stuck against the ceiling.
The pixie tuts. “No, no, no. No more playing around.”
The boys are thrown around the room. Taylar folds his body into a ball, with his arms around his head. He bumps against the walls and ceiling and his shirt is ripped by a nail that’s protruding from what used to be a wardrobe. Something shatters the fish bowl and the goldfish flaps around on the floor.
“Oh no!” the pixie screeches. “Master will not like that.”
Everything in the room comes to a halt as she bends over the fish. “Sorry.” She turns around. Her small head takes on a deep red as she points to the boys. “Your fault.”
She turns and turns and everything turns with her. The house protests loudly. There’s creaking and groaning everywhere.
And then it all falls down. The boys go first and the broken furniture, the garbage, the walls and part of the ceiling collapse on top of them.
The creature zooms out of sight, giggling to itself, while the dust slowly settles.
When I remove my hands, which I’ve clasped over my head, I see only one blond head. It belongs to Taylar. His eyes scan the ruins around him. “Lley?”
Only silence answers him.
He pushes the debris aside, coughs as dust fills up his lungs, and slowly makes his way to where his brother has probably been buried alive. “Lleyton? Are you okay?”
When there’s no answer, he shouts again. “Lleyton!” He grabs board after board and throws it away. Finally, on the other side of the room, a hand becomes visible.
Still coughing, Taylar makes his way to it. Panting heavily, he removes the remains of the house and furniture that covers his brother.
He lets out a heartbreaking scream and in a reflex I hurry over to him.
My chest tightens at the sight of Lleyton lying there like a forgotten doll in a dump. His eyes are wide open in shock and a bone sticks out of his arm.
Taylar drops his head onto his brother’s chest and sobs. “No! Don’t leave me!” Tears stream over his face. “Don’t leave me alone. Please.”
I reach out to comfort him, but suddenly I’m pulled backwards with a jolt. I almost lose my lunch and try to focus on something else.
Before I can, I land on Taylar’s bed. My body tips over, but Taylar grabs my arm. “Are you okay?”
After a couple of deep breaths I nod. “That was…” I don’t even know how to finish that sentence. Horrible? Not even close. Heartbreaking? My throat clogs up at the thought. I can’t say it out loud.
Taylar lets go of my arm and I lean back on my elbows to make sure I don’t tumble off the bed.
The pale face of the young ghost is flushed. “I swore that I would make this man pay. Yes, we were wrong to steal from him, but did we deserve to die because of it?” Grief chases away the anger and he looks away. “I searched for him for years, but I couldn’t find him. And then I died.”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “I am so sorry, Taylar. Life can be so unfair.”
He tilts his head. “Death too.”
I shoot him a reassuring smile. “I understand it can feel that way, but I am confident that everything will work out fine for you. Try to keep faith, I’ll help you as much as I can. Together we will find this man, if he is still alive, and make him pay.”
His eyes tear up. “Thank you so much, master.”
I bump my fist against his shoulder. “We’re all in this gang together. We help each other. I am not just your master, I am your friend.”
Someone in the doorway clears their throat and we all look up. “This is all very touching, and true, but it still leaves Taylar with unfinished business.” Jeep leans against the door post and raises his eyebrows at me. “Which is very dangerous.”
“Really?” I ask. “Why is that?”
“Unfinished business is like poison. It will eat you up if you let it brew for too long.”
I grunt. “So another thing we need to solve quickly? Awesome.”
Fast footsteps approach on the stairs. Mona sticks her head in. “I’ve been calling for minutes. Dinner is ready.” She looks from my pale face to Taylar’s. “Is everyone
alright?”
I haul myself onto my feet and hold out my hand to the white-haired boy. “No, but we will be.”
CHAPTER 23
Everyone is lost in their own thoughts at dinner. Except for Mona and D’Maeo, who seem to be lost in each other’s eyes, when I finally look up because it hits me that I forgot to thank her for dinner.
“So how are we going to the boxing match? Visible or invisible?” Jeep asks when we’re cleaning everything up.
I put a clean plate into the cupboard. “I was thinking Vicky and I should go alone.” I make quotation marks around the last word with my fingers. “In case our enemies are there. We should make it look like we’re just checking the place out, nothing special.”
“I’m going, too,” Charlie says. He blushes when all eyes turn to him. “With Gisella.”
My hand shoots up to my forehead. “You’re taking your crush to a magical boxing match, where demons can come to collect a soul any minute?”
He takes a rubber band out of his pocket and ties it around his blond hair. “Gisella can take care of herself. You’ve seen that when you met her.”
I think back to her flying out of a window, and getting back up as if it was normal business. She’s tough alright.
“And she likes a good fight,” my best friend adds.
Jeep puts the last of the plates away. “She likes to watch a good fight, or be part of a good fight?”
Charlie grins. “Both.”
“Well then, I say bring her!”
I hold up my hands. “Wait, wait. Are you serious?”
Jeep shrugs. “Sure.”
“I can’t believe this. Are we really risking the lives of people who aren’t even involved? Isn’t this fight ours? We were chosen to do this. It doesn’t feel good to bring more people into this.”
Maël waves the scouring sponge in her hand around. She looks like a mother getting ready for a dress-up party. “Listen to Dante. He is right. The less people we involve, the better. This task was meant for us. We should only bring in other people if we can’t make it on our own.”
Cards of Death Box Set Page 54