Nick sat between Luca and Tschida atop the dumpster in the alleyway between the Stan the Pierogi Man restaurant and the double-block house beside it. The restaurant was a two-story brick building, its two front steps covered in stained green indoor/outdoor carpeting. The smells of grease, butter, and fried dough drifted tantalizingly through the night. He hoped they could at least get some pierogis to take home.
Both Tschida and Luca stared intently at their phones. Nick had no desire to open up the single solitaire game he had on his phone or to check social media. He had one profile that he barely even checked. Whose page did he need to read? There were a few girls from high school on there, who posted pictures of themselves at the local bars. And while nice to look at, relationships with them hadn’t worked out. He was glad he’d never distanced himself from his friends for a relationship. Maybe it was contradictory, as he wanted a family, to settle down with a wife one day, but he couldn’t discount the years he’d had Tschida and Luca in his life. He couldn’t give them up and make someone else quite as much a priority. Why, though? The three hadn’t seen each other in half a year. There was time for a relationship in there. Or, there had been. What did this new development mean? Would he be seeing Luca and Tschida more? If so, that was fucking awesome.
“You two are jerks,” Nick muttered. He tried to keep his voice down, as they were still inside the safety of Chameleon Cloak. “We just got powers, and you’re playing with your phones.”
“Boomer,” Luca said, giving him a playful elbow.
“I’m researching,” Tschida murmured. “We have some downtime while we wait for Stan to close up shop; it should be spent wisely.”
How was Tschida acting like this was all normal? He just accepted it and was calm and cool as ever; he was really something else.
“What are you researching?” Luca asked. “I was checking to see if anything made the newspaper, but nothing yet.”
Tschida sighed and set his phone on his lap. “I don’t know if there’s anything of interest yet. Trinket gave us nearly nothing to go on, except there is some vague supernatural threat. That could be a lot of things. So, I’m checking websites about local folklore, hauntings…anything about odd, inexplicable happenings in the area.”
Nick brightened. He rarely had anything to contribute to discussions not about sports or local happenings. “Have you checked out NoGho? NoGho is the nickname for Northeastern Ghost Hunters. They have a ton of stuff on their page.” Nick withdrew his phone from his greatcoat pocket and brought up the webpage, which was helpfully bookmarked.
“No, I haven’t made it there yet,” Tschida said. “I’m reading about the alleged haunting of Our Lady Cemetery. Considering who is buried there, there might be some kind of connection.” He turned to Trinket who lie behind them, lapping his paws. “When you return to the Bridge, get me a list of names of some of the missing people – as many as you can. I want to know where they were buried, or even if they were buried.”
Nick scrolled through the various pages of haunts, trying not to think of Don’s body inside the iron gates of Our Lady Cemetery. He used to visit there at least once a month, but stopped around the time he was twenty. Don wasn’t there, or at least that’s what he’d thought. “Where is Don’s soul?”
“We don’t know,” Trinket said, lifting his head. “We can see a lot from the Bridge. We can take turns watching our humans at the Seeing Pools, but we don’t know what happens to their souls. We can only see their physical bodies. I’ll get you that list, Puck.”
“Good. I want it by Monday if possible.”
“You’re running this like an office manager,” Luca said, casting a grin at Tschida.
“I want my research to be as efficient as possible,” Tschida replied.
Nick clicked the video of his favorite NoGho hunt, unholy shrieks echoing through the speakers of his phone as the dramatic introduction played.
Luca winced at the high-pitched sound. “What is that?”
“It’s about a possessed old lady,” Nick said. “It’d be amazing if the supernatural were demons or something. We could be like the two priests in my favorite movie.”
“Those priests died,” Tschida pointed out, not looking up from his phone. “And the demon lived on to appear in sequels. I recommend we not be martyrs; that would be an absolute waste.”
“I’m not planning on us losing! I’d exorcise them with my hammer, plus, we could use salt, sage, and iron.” Nick was giddy with excitement now. While he wasn’t a fan of ribbons or glitter, fighting inhuman evil was incredibly appealing. He’d fight vampires, werewolves, zombies, demons, ghosts…whatever really did exist. Could things like that be real?
###
Despair stood outside the polished door that led to Father’s throne room, his wingtip nudging at a strand of brown hair that had fallen atop the bright blue and red Georgian Simplicity carpet. Hadn’t it been properly cleaned?
Somehow, that reminded him of Melvin Tschida’s impeccable clothing, the fact that there was never so much as a wrinkle or piece of lint. It was as if the man vacuumed his clothing in his car before entering Badger Vale. Tschida’s entire demeanor reflected an obsessive fastidiousness, a commitment to presentation. His beautiful but emotionless countenance made a far better picture than his imaginings of the man on the other side of the door. It had been about a century, give or take, since he’d seen King Coal in person, but Coal had spared his son from looking upon the horror his body had likely become. The thick panes of stained glass, curving in green and white in the top half of the door, completely hid whatever atrocity lie beyond.
“Are you there?” Coal asked, voice deep and gravelly. It wasn’t gravel though; it was coal.
Despair shuddered to think of what had become of his father’s lungs – a peek into his own future should he ever become king. When I become king. Maybe, maybe I still have centuries before the Diamond devours me slowly.
He pressed his palm to the polished wood, wanting to punch it, wanting to punch the Diamond, if it would do any good. He pushed that last thought from his head and thought of hearing Amethyst’s perky voice and the way the black strands fell in Tschida’s eyes. “I’m here, Father.”
Coalpelt, Coal’s hellhound, growled a greeting from the other side of the door. A hellhound was a demon king’s constant companion through his time on the throne. One simply arrived shortly before a monarch ascended to his rightful place. I do not have mine yet. Time. I still have time.
“There is a problem,” Coal said. “I don’t know what it is… Strange lights.”
“Whatever it is, it felt powerful, disturbingly so.” Despair rested his brow against the glass, his nostrils filling with the scent of the lemon-scented polish and old pine. “I’d thought someone from the Abyss Realm, but why attack the human plain?”
“This is bad. We need to…” Coal paused to cough. “We need to take more from the humans so I can survive longer.”
Demons fed on painful emotions and so did the Diamond. The more negative emotions the Caligaris could harvest from the humans to feed the Diamond, the slower the king would be devoured.
Despair clenched his fists, and lightly tapped them on the glass. “I’ll go now.” I’ll stop whatever this is.
“Don’t tell Malicia. I don’t want to worry her,” Coal said. “Whatever this is—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t want his father to mention Malicia again; the youngest Caligari had been dead for over two hundred years, torn apart by the Diamond for her defiance. Had his father forgotten? How much of Coal had the Diamond eaten away?
Despair lingered in front of the door, his head bowed as he gathered his thoughts, until Coalpelt’s gruff voice came from the other side of the door. “He’s asleep now, Your Highness. I think you know this, but he’s hanging on for you, to spare you as long as he can.”
“I know. I know…”
“Don’t let him suffer longer in vain,” Coalpelt pleaded.
Despair’s heart ached for Coalpelt. The hound hadn’t been outside the king’s suite for a hundred years. He was the one who was tasked with helplessly watching his closest companion die. “Thank you, Coalpelt. Your sacrifices are…I appreciate them, and I know Father does, too.” Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.
Before he did anything, he needed to clear his head. He slipped his phone from his pocket and opened the Disco app. He’d never called Amethyst without messaging first; Am was busy so often. But tonight, he needed his best friend. Am would understand surely, as he’d called Despair quite a few times when he’d had a few too many drinks to drive away dark thoughts that wouldn’t leave him. Despair would call Amethyst as soon as he was in Anthracite City, tracking the disturbance.
###
The website about the ghostly coal miners – these were the most prevalent ghosts in Northeastern County – disappeared, the phone screen announcing he had a Disco call from D. The phone made a series of rapid chirps.
“What is that?” Nick asked.
“I gotta take this.” Luca didn’t hesitate. He spread his wings and flew a few yards upward, just above the roof of the pierogi shop, and hit the accept button. “D?”
“Am?” D chuckled, sounding uncharacteristically sheepish.
“I worried you, didn’t I?” That was right, he’d stopped messaging D after telling him he was in some kind of trouble. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not arrested, are you?”
“No. We made it. So, you don’t need to worry, but I’ll probably be home late. We…found a stray dog.” It wasn’t a lie, not like the others he’d told D, only a grievous omission of the truth. Luca didn’t want to come close to lying more, but there was no way to tell his friend he was the leader of a trio of magical men called the Midsummer Court. He still had to tell D the truth about where he lived and his life circumstances.
“Ah, a stray dog,” D said. “I…”
“What is it?” Luca asked. I’m an idiot. D might have been calling me for something else entirely. He sounds off tonight.
“It isn’t anything important. I can talk to you later, but I’m relieved you aren’t arrested, Am.”
“If there’s something you need, D? What did you want to talk about?” Luca tugged on a lock of his long hair. D was always listening to his problems, but D hardly ever talked about his own. “You can’t imply something’s wrong and not tell me anything.”
“Just some matters with my family business,” D said. Luca knew D’s family owned a lot of commercial properties and had involvements in various businesses, though more than that, he had no idea. “Family businesses always have some sort of drama, especially when your father is preparing to leave it to you.” At least Luca had heard as much from a school acquaintance whose family owned a pizza shop.
“Is your dad okay?” Luca’s grip tightened on his phone. D had mentioned his father had been ill with cancer. He remembered his last years with Jennifer, slowly watching her light drain as she slipped from his grasp. At least he knew now she’d gone somewhere happy, or mostly happy.
“No. He isn’t. I don’t want to burden you with this when you’re out…” D paused, his breathing heavy. “I mean that. This isn’t a guilt trip for you not being around. I’ll claim your time when you come home. Until then, your friends have you.”
“Are you sure?” Luca could spare a few more minutes. It was 9:50 PM. Stan’s shop didn’t close until 10 PM.
“I promise. But stay out of trouble. If something happens, if those officers give you difficulty, I want you to message me where you live and your full name. I will be there and get you to safety, Am. You are all I have, and I will not…I will not let insignificant humans threaten that.”
Luca was silent. Insignificant humans? Was D drunk or something to talk like this? D’s voice had grown so full of rage at the end. Something big had happened. Was D’s dad on his deathbed? Was there something more?
“I’m sorry, Am,” D said with a sigh. “It’s a bad night, and that sounded selfish. I want you to be safe, not only for my sake, but because you are my precious friend. I have some business matters to see to in the meantime. You visit with your friends, and then we will ruin people’s nights in gladiator matches when you get home.”
After the call ended, Luca returned to the top of the dumpster. Stan would be leaving the shop soon.
“Was that your online friend again?” Nick asked, looking up from his phone. Tschida was still reading his own screen.
“Yeah. We…we’re pretty close,” Luca admitted. Could he really tell Nick that D meant as much to him as his real-life friends?
“It’s only natural with Luca’s work schedule,” Tschida said without looking up. “Luca can be tired and in his pajamas, and visit with his friend until he falls asleep. They can play their game, which we know Luca likes better than spor—”
“Okay, but we’re here, and this guy isn’t,” Nick said, sliding his phone into the pocket of his greatcoat. “It’s just someone online.”
“He isn’t though,” Luca said. “He’s someone I talk to every night, or sometimes on my breaks at work. And, yeah, you know how I feel about sports. I was interested when you played, Nick. But I don’t know these other guys playing. I don’t—”
The glass door of the pierogi shop opened, bells jangling. It stayed open for a few seconds, Stan’s curses and grumbles drifting to the magical trio. Now was Luca’s chance to act, his chance to inspire.
He was the leader of this group, and maybe, just maybe it was nepotism, because Jennifer, his sister, had orchestrated this. But would she really entrust something this important to someone she didn’t believe in? Am I in this spot because of blood relations? What if I’m just like the prison guards who get hired because they’re related to a state rep or county commissioner?
I can’t think that way. I have to grow into this role, even if I’m not suited for it.
“Okay!” Luca whispered loudly. “Are you ready? Here’s the plan!”
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