Fairy Bad Day (6 page)

“Oh, please. I don’t think the world will stop if I don’t show you how to slay a fairy. In fact, I can’t believe you think a dumb assignment is more important than hunting this dragon. What kind of slayer are you?”

For a moment Curtis paused and looked like he wasn’t going to answer her. Finally, he spoke. “The kind who still has three more years of study to go. Besides, Jones, we don’t all have the luxury of being able to do whatever we want around here.”

Emma was taken aback by his sudden change in tone, which almost sounded bitter and frustrated. She was about to protest when she caught the firm set of his jaw, which only served to cause his cheekbones to jut out.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, so since you have an overwhelming desire to do everything Principal Kessler tells you, how about I tell you where to find some fairies while I go and find this dragon?”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“Why not?” Emma demanded. “Worried that I’ll get your designation?”

“Actually, I was more concerned with the fact that Professor Vanderbilt’s heading our way, and judging by the look on his face, I’m guessing that Kessler has spoken to him. Which means that your chances of going dragon hunting are slim to none.”

“What—” Emma started to say before she spun around and realized that the old-fashioned armaments professor was bearing down on them with a grim expression on his face. She reluctantly acknowledged that Curtis was right. She could either stay there and get lectured or she could go and do the assignment.

“Fine,” she mumbled as she felt the fight drain out of her. So much for her chance to try to find this dragon and prove to Kessler once and for all how capable she was. She was obviously destined to be a low-grade fairy slayer forever.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
re you sure you really want to trade all this in and become a dragon slayer,” Curtis said as they both ordered a coffee and Emma directed him over to a table at the far end of the popular bookshop café on the second floor of the mall.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t quite hide her irritation. They’d already spent two hours looking for fairies, and if they didn’t find any here at the mall, then Emma was going to call it quits. It was humiliating enough having to try to slay them in the first place, but having to spend all day with Curtis tagging along after her certainly wasn’t helping matters any. Especially when they could be back at Burtonwood hunting for an elemental that was actually dangerous.

“It’s just that all the dragons I’ve ever hunted tend to come out at night. Near cold muddy swamps. This seems a lot more civilized: books to read, food to eat, all in a nice temperature-controlled environment. In fact, I’m tempted to put in for a transfer myself.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” Emma informed him as she stirred some sugar in her coffee. “My mom used to tell me about all her hunting trips, and of course before you decided to ruin my life I did manage a few of my own.”

She knew Loni had told her not to blame Curtis, but why couldn’t he understand that his very presence was a reminder that all her dreams and hopes were dead? As in stone-cold and six feet under, never to see the light of day again. It was bound to make a girl bitter.

She was contemplating whether to suggest they go back to Burtonwood, but before she could say anything, a familiar sound of static started to ring in her ear, which meant fairies were nearby. Emma reluctantly glanced around and caught sight of two of them hovering over by the register, just near a large display of the latest book club selection.

She let out a sigh as she got to her feet. Next to her Curtis stiffened and turned toward the fairies, but instead of saying anything, he just stared blankly into the space where they were hovering. Then he rubbed his eyes. For a moment Emma tried to work out why he was acting so weird before she let out a long groan.

“Crap.” She glanced up just as the fairies sprinkled a fine layer of glittery dust around the room. Well, that would explain why Curtis was looking blankly at the small fairies. “I think you just got glamour powder in your eyes. I should’ve warned you.”

“Glamour powder?” He turned back to her, his dark eyes now red-rimmed. Though somehow it actually made him look better than ever. Not that she cared, of course.

“Yeah, the little beasts use it all the time. As you know, most civilians are sight-blind, but there are a few out there who have the gift, so the fairies use glamour powder when they’re in the mall. It also has the desired effect of concealing all of the man-made items that they touch. Imagine how freaked out people would be if they could see a bag of potato chips flying along in the air, apparently unconnected to anything. Anyway, it doesn’t affect me, but when Loni came out with me once she went as sight-blind as a bat when it hit her.” Then she perked up. “Oh well, I guess if you can’t see them, then there’s no point trying to slay them. Tomorrow maybe? And in the meantime we could get back to concentrating on the dragon.”

“Jones, I told you, I don’t have the luxury of just ignoring what Kessler tells me to do. You might not care about doing this assignment, but I do.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you got hit with glamour powder,” Emma retorted. “And unless you can see the fairies, there isn’t much point in being here.” For a moment Curtis was silent as he tightened his jaw. Then he muttered something under his breath before reluctantly digging around in his slaying kit.

“There might be one other way,” he finally said as he pulled out what looked like... some white-framed Ray-Ban Wayfarers? She watched as he took a deep breath and slipped them onto his face.

“Um, do you always wear sunglasses at the mall? Not to mention the fact that they look like they’re straight from the eighties. What’s going on?”

“They’re not sunglasses.” He slid them over his nose, and Emma was forced to marvel at how the ugliest pair of glasses
in the world
still managed to look okay on him.

“Really, because they sure look like sunglasses—and ugly ones at that,” she said, annoyed she’d even noticed how they looked on him.

He was silent, and for a moment Emma didn’t think he was going to answer her, but finally he shrugged. “Kessler gave them to me. They’ve got special lenses. For when I need to fight Unseens.”

“You need Unseen glasses?” she demanded, before narrowing her eyes and studying him as she thought of the giant dragons in question. Despite their name, they weren’t actually invisible, but they did have the chameleon-like talent of blending into the background. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Gee, I must’ve forgotten to send you the memo,” he snapped in a sarcastic voice before letting out a sigh. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Plenty of dragon slayers need help with Unseens.”

“I don’t. I was tested last year and have perfect vision,” she retorted in a prim voice. Not that it really made a difference, since Curtis was right. There were plenty of dragon slayers who couldn’t pick out an Unseen dragon when it went into camouflage mode at nighttime. Her mom had been one of them, though instead of using an ugly pair of sunglasses, she had relied on some special binoculars. But still, it was interesting that Perfect Mr. Dragon Slayer wasn’t so perfect after all.

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness, which if you asked her was overdramatic since it wasn’t like dragon slayers came across Unseens very often. “Anyway, I just wondered if they would help me see the fairies. Despite the glamour powder.” Then he craned his neck toward the roof, and over the top of the frames she could clearly see him raise an eyebrow. It looked like the ugly sunglasses were working.

“Wow, they really are little. Oh, but no pointy ears?”

“Shhh,” Emma warned him. “Don’t let them hear you say that. Or anything about their height. They have a Napoleon complex like you wouldn’t believe. Once Professor Vanderbilt was out grading me on my tracking techniques, and all he did was mention a Danny DeVito movie he’d watched and you should’ve seen all the bite marks he ended up with.”

“Got it. So what now?” he asked as he continued to write in the folder.

“I guess it’s time to join me in some ritual humiliation,” she said, just as another fairy flew in through the open door. As it got closer, it turned away from them and tugged at its tiny pants until they fell away to reveal a small white butt.

“Did that thing just moon me?” Curtis demanded as he readjusted the glasses as if checking to see if they were working correctly.

“Trust me, that’s the least of what they do,” Emma retorted as she flipped open her slaying bag and pulled out two packets of Skittles. She ripped both packets open and handed one to Curtis. “Now, the trick is to try and lure them over to the nonfiction section.”

“Nonfiction? Skittles?” Curtis ran a hand through his blond curls and frowned. “Did I mention that none of this makes sense?”

Emma sighed. “They’re all crazy about Skittles for some reason. I want them in the nonfiction because it’s not as busy there, and as for why they come here? It’s to read
OK! Magazine
as people flip through it. I guess they like their celebrity gossip. Now, if you’re finished with the twenty questions, maybe we can continue?”

It looked like Curtis was about to say something, but at that moment one of the fairies spotted the Skittles, and after it let out a piercing whistle, six of them swooped toward Emma and Curtis like a swarm of bees at a honey convention.

“This way,” she commanded as she quickly weaved her way through the tables toward the far end of the store. Behind her she could hear the sound of miniature angry voices.

“It’s not going to work, you know,” her “friend” from Saturday, Rupert, called out. “We’re going to get those Skittles and then we’re going to kick your sorry butts so bad that you’ll be screaming for mercy.”

“Yeah, and don’t try any explosions this time. You know, we really should report you to the Commission of Ethical Treatment of Mortal Enemies,” Trevor added, still wearing the green hoodie that was now charred around the hems from the explosion on Saturday.

“Do they always talk this much?” Curtis demanded as he swung his crutches in a two/two rhythm just behind her.

“More. In fact, they normally never shut up,” Emma replied over her shoulder as she swatted one of the girl fairies out of her hair and turned into the art and biography aisle. “Okay, so when I say ‘now,’ I want you to throw a few Skittles on the ground—though not the red ones—you so don’t want to see fairies after they’ve eaten red ones.”

“That’s right, buddy,” Rupert called out as another fairy, dressed in tiny overalls, lunged at Curtis’s arm and used its small (but very sharp) teeth to bite into his biceps. “Listen to what the useless slayer has to say, and no one will get hurt—too badly.”

“Hey,” Curtis protested as he shook his arm to get rid of the small fairy. It didn’t work, and the thing remained clamped onto his flesh. “Emma, this is ridiculous. I need to get it off me now.” As he spoke he thrust the candy deep into his pocket and instead pulled a slim-line laser gun from his slaying kit.

“No. Put that away and give them the Skittles,” she hissed. However, Curtis—who up until this point had been showing signs of sanity—didn’t seem to hear her as he pointed the laser in the direction of the small creature on his arm.

Emma groaned as she watched the red tip pierce the flesh and the fairy finally stopped biting Curtis’s arm. It grinned in glee as its pale skin turned a glowing orange color and a bright beam raced out from along its fingers straight back toward Curtis’s hand.

“Ouch,” he yelped in pain as the laser fell away and one of his crutches toppled from under him. “What the—”

“You couldn’t just give them the Skittles so that I could show you how to kill them, could you?” Emma demanded as she quickly emptied her packet onto the ground and jumped out of the way as six sugar-starved fairies sped toward them. “You had to do it your way. Make sure you put that in your assignment.”

“Well, if you’d told me that my way would hurt so much, then maybe I would’ve thought twice,” Curtis retorted as he cradled his singed hand. “So what happens now?”

“Now we kick your pathetic body into Timbuktu,” Rupert said as he flew down and grabbed an orange Skittle straight out of Curtis’s hand. “I mean, hello, you’re even more useless than slayer-girl here, and that’s really—”

“Gotcha,” Emma yelled as she plunged her nail file deep into the fairy’s wing and watched it wriggle on the ground in annoyance. She glanced back up at Curtis. “Lasers make them go all Incredible Hulk, but nail files render them pretty much useless. It’s the steel. Apparently, they hate silver as well, but unfortunately my budget doesn’t really stretch that far.”

“Ha! That’s a good one, calling us useless,” the fairy yelled out as it continued struggling to break free of the file. “I mean, you haven’t exactly had a great scorecard since you became a designated murderer.”

“Well, I’d rather have a bad slaying record than be the one wriggling around on the floor with Skittle drool running down my chin,” Emma retorted. “Now prepare to die, because . . .
hey
.” Her eyes suddenly honed in on the tiny raglan T-shirt the fairy was wearing. She leaned in closer so that she could see it more clearly.

“Argh.” Rupert tried to squirm away from her. “Gilbert, Trevor. Get her off me. She’s trying to put her human cooties all over me. Please, brothers, for the love of evil, get her off. Get her off.”

Emma ignored the squealing as she used the tip of her finger to smooth the tiny T-shirt out, much to Rupert’s horror. Then she let out a gasp of surprise. “That’s the dragon I saw.”

“What?” Curtis leaned forward, his broad shoulder inadvertently grazing hers, and studied the black muscled beast that was printed on the minuscule shirt. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. That’s the same thing I saw before,” she said as she inched away from him, since there was something disturbing about him when he got too close to her.

“What did you just say, stupid girl?” Gilbert, who had been scooping up Skittles into his pocket, stopped and narrowed its eyes.

“You heard her,” Curtis growled as he glared at the fairy on the ground. “So why don’t you start to tell us what’s going on?”

“Rupert, don’t tell them anything,” the fairy commanded to his fallen comrade, all sense of humor gone.

“Please, Trevor, as if I’m going to spill my guts to a couple of pathetic kids.” The injured fairy looked slightly outraged. “Besides, it’s quite obvious that they don’t have a clue what’s happening.”

“Aha, so there
is
something going on.” Emma widened her eyes. “Curtis, go to my slaying kit and get the hairspray.”

“I don’t think now is really the time to worry about your hair, Jones. Besides, your hair always looks nice.”

“It’s not for me,” Emma said between gritted teeth. “It’s for Rupert here. He obviously knows something, and I need to find out what it is.”
And did he just say her hair looked nice?
For a moment she was completely thrown as she stared at him, but Curtis didn’t seem to notice her confusion.