The Sacrifice of Sunshine Girl

by Paige McKenzie

  Also the air always smells yummy here, like garlic, oregano, and tomato sauce. And they have a sweet old tabby cat, Mr. Mike, who wanders around and greets the customers.

  “How are you?” Nolan asks. His brown eyes are sweet and tender as they take in my no doubt exhausted-looking face, my Goodwill outfit (ruffly blouse with extra-long sleeves and peasant skirt), and my frizzball that is semitamed-but-not-really under my crocheted hat.

  “Mostly okay. Sometimes confused. Sometimes freaked out. But mostly okay.”

  Nolan slides his hand across the table and squeezes mine briefly. I smile at him, and he smiles back. Then he pulls away and busies himself with his extra-cheese slice, neatly cutting off the crust with a plastic fork.

  “How’s Ashley doing?” he asks.

  “Strangely better,” I reply.

  “Why strangely?”

  I glance around the crowded restaurant to make sure no one’s listening. We’re sitting in a semisecluded corner next to a big window that overlooks the parking lot and Ridge Mountain beyond. At the only table within apparent hearing distance six burly guys wearing Washington State College letter jackets are competing to see who can cram the most fried mozzarella sticks into their mouths. With all the yelling and laughing and snorting, we probably don’t need to worry about eavesdroppers there.

  Still, I lower my voice and lean across the table toward Nolan. We bend our heads together. His hair falls across his eyes, and I want to reach over and push it back, but I don’t.

  Nolan’s just-friends-until-I’m-out-of-danger policy. Sometimes it’s easier for me to follow than others. Sometimes it’s darned near impossible.

  “Ash was a complete wreck after what happened the other morning. She wouldn’t even get out of bed, she was so terrified. Then a couple of hours ago she showed up to the spring dance committee meeting at school all…” I take a bite of my pepperoni slice and chew thoughtfully. “Dressed up and super-cheerful and carpe diem about everything.”

  “‘Carpe diem,’ as in the Latin phrase? Seize the day?”

  “Yup. And one of her carpe diem ideas was for you, me, her, and Bastian to all go to the spring dance together on Saturday.”

  “Seriously?” Nolan grins in amusement. “Ashley and Bastian? I thought she liked Lucio. That’s the impression I got anyway. Not that I can always tell about those things. Actually I can never tell about those things so don’t listen to me.”

  “She does like Lucio. Did. I don’t know. In any case she’s kind of taken Bastian under her wing. Or something. I told her before I didn’t want him to be distracted by a relationship, so hands off and stick to friendship, and she seemed to understand. I’m not sure, though.”

  Nolan chuckles. “Wow, Sunshine. You’re sounding like your dad.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Aidan doesn’t want you distracted by a relationship either. Ergo the spell.”

  “Huh. You’re right. Hmm, maybe I should cast the same spell on Bastian?”

  “I’m sure he’d love that. Speaking for myself, I’m counting the days until Aidan banishes the spell he put on you,” he adds softly.

  I blush. “Me too. Days, hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds… and whatever is tinier than milliseconds.”

  “That would be a microsecond, which is a millionth of a second, and then a nanosecond, which is a billionth of a second.”

  “Yup. Those.”

  We lapse into silence. Of course I don’t remind Nolan he’s the one who insisted the spell stay in place until Dubu is out of the picture. But I understand—or I’m trying to understand—that Nolan just wants me to be safe. He’s my protector; that’s his job. I know he wants to hold me and kiss me as bad as I want to hold him and kiss him. To be a real couple.

  “Soon,” Nolan says, reading my thoughts as always. “Speaking of… what’s the current plan? What if the war happens even if the pentagram isn’t completed? What are Aidan, Helena, and the council doing to prepare?”

  I think this is Nolan’s way of refusing to acknowledge to himself or to me that the pentagram could be completed.

  Because that would mean…

  “I know they’re trying to raise some sort of army, trying to mobilize all the luiseach on the planet,” I explain.

  “How many is that?”

  “Helena said around sixty thousand?”

  “That’s impressive. I had no idea there were so many luiseach out there. So are Helena and the council trying to get all these luiseach here before…” Nolan hesitates.

  “Yes. Fingers crossed that by… whenever, there will be a big, scary luiseach army right here in Ridgemont, Washington, ready to defend.”

  “Good.” Nolan nods.

  Then he pulls his notebook out of his backpack, splays it open, and hands it to me. “Lucio and I have made some progress. And I’ve also written down all the stuff you told me. Take a look.”

  I sip my ginger ale, take the notebook from him, and start reading:

  *It’s possible that the luiseach girl who died in Hokkaido, Japan, came to Sunshine in a dream or vision in order to warn her. (In the dream/vision the girl, who was wearing a kimono, had a spider-web mark on her wrist that mysteriously morphed into a pentagram mark.) The girl who died in Queensland, Australia, also came to Sunshine—not in a dream or vision but in real life, in the form of a bird that is indigenous to that area. Of course, this is all speculation; we don’t know for sure.

  *Lucio and I have not managed to find any references to pentagram spells or, more importantly, how to reverse or stop them. This is a very high-priority item, however, so we will continue researching it.

  *Violent crimes are increasing not only in Ridgemont but nationally and internationally as well. Earlier Helena mentioned that such a spike in violent crimes also happened before the deaths of those four luiseach girls.

  *A mysterious climatological change has been occurring as well. In the past few months a sort of “global un-warming” has been taking place, with temperatures falling to below-record levels across the world.

  *Also, the Gemini Moon.

  *Also, the sun has been setting earlier and earlier each day rather than the other way around. (It is now April, and this should not start happening until the summer solstice on June 15.)

  *Lucio and I finally came across some references to Markons during our research. Markons have been called other things in other cultures throughout history: Balor, Fan Wujiu, Popobawa, and the Generals, for example. Apparently they are extremely difficult to kill; the only way may be a highly dangerous ritual called “guera spirito.”

  I glance up from the notebook and stare in amazement at Nolan. “Guera spirito? Good golly, what’s that?”

  “The phrase ‘guera spirito’ was mentioned briefly in an essay written by a thirteenth-century monk and historian living in Venice, which back then was not a city in the country of Italy but a city in the Republic of Venice. The subject of his essay was a painting that at the time was hanging in his monastery. Lucio and I had to translate the text from Venetian, which we thought at first was a dialect of Italian. But Venetian is actually its own language, so it took a while.

  “Unfortunately the monk-historian didn’t go into the details about the ritual,” Nolan continues. “The essay was mostly about the painting, which was by an unknown painter. Some have theorized he was an ancestor of Michelangelo. Anyway, the monk wrote that the painting depicts two celestial figures, maybe angels, maybe some other entities, using guera spirito to destroy the indestructible super-demons, which he referred to as ‘il demoni potente.’” He adds, “Lucio and I did manage to translate the phrase from Venetian to English, though. It means ‘spirit war.’”

  “Spirit war,” I repeat. “Can you and Lucio try to find out more about it?”

  “Yes, of course. Lucio is at the library right now. I’m meeting him over there after I drive you home.”

  Our server comes by and hovers over our table. “Can I get you guys a refill on your drinks?”
she says cheerfully.

  “Yes, please… Rebecca,” Nolan says, peering at her nametag. “Coke for me. Sunshine?”

  “Yes, more ginger ale, please.”

  While Rebecca is busy with our drinks, I turn my attention back to Nolan’s notebook.

  “Is that a new necklace?” Nolan asks suddenly.

  “Hmm?” I glance up from the notebook.

  Nolan points to my neck. “It’s unusual. What’s that symbol on it? Is it a hieroglyph?”

  Oops.

  Somehow I absent-mindedly pulled Helena’s—Dubu’s—necklace out from beneath my blouse and started twirling it around my fingers.

  “No! I mean, yes! I mean, um, I found it in my jewelry box the other day.”

  Nolan cocks his head and frowns. He can always tell when I’m lying.

  “You don’t have to make up some story. Did Lucio give it to you? Because if he did, it’s fine. I mean not fine exactly, but… what I mean is, I know you two are close. Platonically speaking, that is. I mean…” Nolan stops and looks away. I’ve never seen him like this, so awkward and agitated and fumbling around for words—that’s my thing.

  “No! I mean yes we are close, platonically speaking. But no, Lucio absolutely didn’t give it to me,” I assure him.

  “Look, Sunshine, I don’t want to act like the jealous boyfriend about this. I’m not the jealous type. Well, I wasn’t before I met you because I didn’t have anyone I… anyway, I trust you, and I know things have been a little weird and not normal between us because of Aidan’s spell and Dubu and this whole end-of-the-world thing, and—”

  “Helena gave it to me,” I blurt out.

  “Wait, what? Helena, your biological mother who tried to kill you? Or a different Helena?”

  “The former. She said it would give me an extra level of protection against demons—and Dubu.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Nolan knits his brows. “So… Helena is actually trying to keep you safe? Above and beyond being one of your luiseach bodyguards? I want to say ‘that’s so nice of her,’ but that doesn’t seem like the right sentiment somehow. I mean Helena—”

  “I know, I know,” I agree. “So far the necklace kind of seems to be working. I think? I can feel it grow hot against my skin when it’s about to amp up my demon-fighting powers and then cool down after it’s over.”

  “Wow.” Nolan looks impressed. “So what does that symbol on it mean? ‘Hero’ or ‘strength’ or ‘bravery’ or something similar? Is it proto-Celtic?”

  “I’m not sure actually.” Which is the truth.

  I hope and pray that it doesn’t mean “Dubu.”

  I hate hate hate having to lie to Nolan. Not that I lied exactly. I just omitted the part about how the necklace actually belongs—belonged—to Dubu. Also the interesting factoid that if Dubu perishes, his necklace will perish too.

  Our server, Rebecca, returns with more drinks. Mr. Mike wanders over to our table and rubs up against our legs, purring. Nolan and I continue eating our pizza and shift the topic from demons and darkness to the spring dance: who’s picking up whom and when, what we’re all wearing, what the dance will be like. Neither of us has ever been to a school dance, so it’s kind of a big deal for both of us.

  As we talk, though, I can’t seem to be in the here-and-now and enjoy our not-datey date. My thoughts keep returning to this guera spirito thing.

  Is that what Aidan plans to use in order to try to eliminate Dubu?

  What exactly is it?

  Just then I feel a familiar warmth against my neck. Helena’s necklace is kicking into gear. My senses on alert, I glance around the restaurant, trying to detect the presence of a demon or dark spirit.

  Nothing. No one.

  The necklace subsides to cool. It must have been a false alarm.

  CHAPTER 37

  May Day

  Nolan drops me off before heading off to the library to meet Lucio. He waits at the curb to make sure I get inside, then he honks and takes off.

  “Mom? Ashley? I’m hoooome!” I call out. Lex Luthor prances up to me and sniffs at my ankles curiously, no doubt detecting Mr. Mike’s scent. Oscar jumps up to be petted, and I oblige, mentally reminding myself to give him a bath and doggie shampoo soon—he’s about a year overdue.

  All of a sudden Aidan appears in the hallway.

  “Aidan, you scared me!”

  “My apologies.”

  The expression on his face is somber—more somber than usual, that is.

  My heart plummets.

  “Aidan, what is it? Did something happen to Mom? Where is she? Where’s Ashley?” I cry out.

  “Your mother and Ashley are fine. Ashley is upstairs. She complained of a headache and went to bed early. Your mother got called to the hospital a few minutes ago. She just left, in fact. There was another… violent incident. This time at a restaurant. Someone with a baseball bat.”

  “Oh, no! Were there any…”

  “About a dozen injuries, including six college students.”

  “Who were they?”

  “The police have not released their names yet, but they were apparently from Washington State College.”

  Washington State College.

  Six burly guys in letter jackets scarfing down fried mozzarella sticks.

  “Aidan? Which restaurant was it?” I ask slowly.

  “It was Ridgemont Pizza. Xerxes is at the scene now, taking care of the… exorcism.”

  My stomach twists, and a cold, clammy sensation sweeps over me.

  “Sunshine, what is wrong?”

  “Nolan and I just left Ridgemont Pizza, like, fifteen, twenty minutes ago. We had dinner there.”

  “What?” Aidan’s face turns deathly pale. “You must have just missed the… dear God, Sunshine, are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Who was the attacker?”

  “One of the servers. A young college student named Rebecca Packer.”

  Rebecca, our server.

  With a trembling hand I reach up and touch Helena’s necklace, which is hidden under my blouse. No wonder it grew warm at the restaurant. Did it protect me against the demon inside Rebecca?

  Voices. All of a sudden I realize there are people in the living room, talking quietly.

  “Who’s here?”

  “The council. Or the council minus Xerxes anyway. We have news.”

  “More news?”

  “Yes. But this news is more… well, shall we say, constructive.”

  Aidan takes my arm and leads me into the living room.

  Helena, Giovanni, Mikhail, Aura, and Zalea are seated on the couch and in various chairs. When Aidan and I enter the room they stop talking abruptly and look up at us with serious expressions. Except Zalea, who smiles and gives me a small wave.

  “We have uncovered a date,” one of the men speaks up… Mikhail, the one who zapped me before—Zalea called it a “soul assessment.”

  “A date… for what?” I ask.

  “A date when Dubu expects to complete the pentagram spell,” Aidan explains. “Earlier today Mikhail and I captured a possessed human and interrogated it. It turned out to be one of Dubu’s highest-level servants.”

  I set my backpack on the floor, trying to wrap my brain around this. “But… how did you know it was one of his highest-level servants?”

  “Because it knew things about Dubu that only someone very close to him could possibly know,” Mikhail replies. “In any case, it revealed the date to us under… extreme duress.”

  “‘Extreme duress.’ Is that a euphemism for torture?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

  “Aidan and Mikhail did what had to be done,” Giovanni pipes up, running a hand through his short blue hair. “Anyway we now have a date. The date. It’s the first day in the month of May, in accordance with the Gregorian calendar. And logic tells us this information is correct.”

  I run through the dates in my mind. Today is Wednesday, April 12. May first is… eighteen, no, nineteen days away. “Why does y
our logic tell you this, Mr. Spock?”

  Giovanni doesn’t smile at my super-dork Star Trek joke.

  “The first of May is May Day, which is a holiday in many countries under different incarnations,” he states matter-of-factly. “In most cases it’s celebrated approximately halfway between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. The Gaelic version is called Beltane, and an important part of the celebration of that holiday is fire.”

  Fire. I try to remember what the demon that possessed Tiffany Ramirez said when Aidan interrogated it. “‘When the five-pointed star is completed, the world will be washed in fire and be reborn as the kingdom of Dubu,’” I recite out loud.

  “Precisely.” Aidan nods. “Several demons we have interrogated have repeated the same phrase to us.”

  “There’s a so-called May Day Festival at the state park on the first of May,” Mikhail pipes up. “According to various advertisements and articles it appears to be some sort of outdoor party involving a maypole, music, dancing, food sold for consumption, a craft fair—whatever that is—and so forth. Apparently it takes place annually.”

  “The articles suggested that historically this particular May Day celebration draws a sizeable crowd, nearly a thousand people, not just from Ridgemont but from surrounding areas,” Aidan adds. “We are theorizing that the… event may take place there.”

  The event.

  “There’s something else,” Aura speaks up, weaving her fingers through Zalea’s. “The first of May is when Dubu’s child Selarion… died. So this would be the anniversary of his death. A symbolic date.” She slants a sideways glance at Aidan.

  Oh.

  I flash back to my conversation with Helena. If she’s right, Dubu intends to kill me not just to activate the pentagram spell, which is awful and calamitous enough, but to also exact revenge on Aidan.