Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6)

by Naquin, R. L.

  So, nearly half a year after Aggie left us the book, I still didn’t have a single clue. She had said it was the Covenant—the thing Shadow Man and his minions had been trying to break to bring about their version of the apocalypse. Everybody seemed to think they knew what the terms of the Covenant between the First Hidden and humans were, but the truth was, nobody knew for sure. The Hidden government had, in their self-important estimation, believed their destruction would break the Covenant and bring about the end of the world.

  Every Hidden government in the world had been brought to its knees over the last two years or so, and the world was still chugging along, business as usual. I found out the Hidden governments were really only a handful of centuries old anyway, so that little delusion couldn’t have been possible. The Covenant was as old as the Simurgh, the first Hidden to step out of the ether of story, the essence and substance of human creativity. That was a lot older than the short time the government had been around.

  The next rumor about how to break the Covenant centered on the Aegises. When the last Aegis died, portals to other worlds would open, releasing demons, vampires, lycans and zombies to destroy all of humanity. Shadow Man had put all his efforts into this one a few months ago, going so far as to force those portals open to speed things up while getting his followers to kill all of the Aegises worldwide.

  It almost worked except for two things. One, he still hadn’t managed to kill Mom and me, and two, the folks on the other side of those portals were more interested in keeping things as they were and hanging out for the occasional game night or movie marathon than taking over our world.

  I thumbed through the empty book, hoping for some brilliant new idea to try.

  Aggravated, I leaned over the blank pages. “Why won’t you cooperate? I’m an Aegis! Don’t I qualify?”

  The creamy parchment sat unresponsive, mocking me with its lack of concern. I slammed the book shut and unfolded my legs.

  Everything went black, feathers whooshing in my ears. Light shone from far away, and the dark outline of the enormous Simurgh stood before me.

  “Patience,” she said. “The end is near.”

  I pursed my lips. “More riddles? The end of what? The end of the world? The end of my troubles? How do I defeat the Last Hidden?”

  “You cannot defeat what should not be.”

  “I have to defeat him. He’s stealing our children, and he wants my mother and me dead so he can take the Hidden and start his own world.”

  “The wise adult does not feed a child’s tantrum.”

  I groaned in frustration. “Can you please tell me something I can use? Where is he hiding the children? How do I read the Covenant? How do I keep Shadow Man from watching me through my freaking bedroom window?”

  The Simurgh’s wings shivered and fluffed themselves as she chuckled. “You must not skip ahead and do things out of order, as he has done. The Last Hidden is an impossibility. The time is not now. The time is for many tomorrows. Take back tomorrow, and today will follow.”

  She was trying to kill me. I was convinced of it. Riddles and fake advice rattled in my head, building a fire of confusion that would likely make my head explode. “Take back tomorrow. That’s your advice, then?”

  The great bird Simurgh, first of all Hidden, tilted her head in thought. “Yes,” she said. “That is my advice.”

  “You know it’s not very helpful.”

  “I am aware. But even I have to follow rules.”

  That surprised me. I figured the First Hidden was beyond the reach of the regulatory bullshit we were stuck following. In fact, I’d thought she’d made up the rules.

  “Fair enough, I guess. Is there anything else I should or can know?”

  “Only that this must be our last conversation until the end. I cannot help you again.”

  I didn’t point out that the help she’d provided so far had been useless. I appreciated that she’d tried and felt a twinge of guilt for having taken out some of my frustrations on her. I nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Aegis.”

  The whooshing of wings grew louder, then faded out, and I was in my room again, the useless book still in my hands.

  The backward ancient Sumerian/reptoid-alien symbols had reformed into plain English. A single word, eight letters, had replaced the useless symbols.

  Covenant

  “Well,” I said to the air. “Thanks for straightening that out, at least.” I fanned the pages to check for any new markings. Nothing. I sighed. “It’s a start, I guess.”

  I was still holding the book, considering whether it would be worth marring the pristine pages by smearing a little of my blood on one of them, when Mom poked her head into the room.

  She eyed the book. “You busy?”

  I sighed and set it down beside me. “Nope.” I picked up the new feather that had appeared after my chat with the Simurgh. “Got one of these, though. You?”

  She waved one back at me. “Yup.”

  “She was a lot chattier this time, but still every bit as mysterious.” I pulled open the drawer in my bedside table and grabbed the notebook where I kept a record of all the other useless Simurgh visions we’d had. While I told her what the giant bird had said to me, I wrote it down so I could study it later with the rest. “How about you?”

  She looked at her feet for a moment, then brought her gaze back to my face. “She didn’t say as much to me. I guess I don’t ask as many questions.” She ran her index finger along the edge of the long, rainbow-colored feather. “Mostly, it was a rehash of the last conversation.”

  “You mean the hope and tragedy bit?” I slid to the edge of the bed and slipped my shoes on.

  “Yeah. That.” She leaned against the doorframe, watching me tie my rhinestone-covered sneakers. “Zoey.” Her voice was quiet and sounded far away. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how very proud I am of you.”

  I glanced up and gave her a soft smile. “Thank you.”

  She smiled back, but the expression seemed sad. “I missed seeing you grow up. I only got to follow along in the photos the Board sent me. I knew you were okay, but it wasn’t the same as being there to help you grow up. But you did it without me.” She moved beside me and touched my hair. “And you did an amazing job. You became the kind of woman I’d want to be friends with. The kind of woman I’d want to be.”

  She rested her hand against my cheek, and I placed my hand over hers. Her love and pride spread over me like a warm fur, and a tear slid down my cheek. I’d spent most of my life without a mother, and the last year wishing my mother was more accepting of me. If I could have captured that moment—that feeling of unconditional love—and kept it with me forever, there would be nothing anyone could do to rattle my self-confidence for as long as I lived.

  A knock at the door jolted us both out of the moment.

  I frowned. “Everybody’s out searching. Who the hell is knocking?”

  We headed for the living room and found Maurice standing with the door open, staring at someone about waist high.

  “No. You’re not coming in.” Maurice’s tone was adamant, and his stance was firm. Whoever was at the door wasn’t getting any farther.

  “Look, friend. I’m not some movie vampire who needs an invite. And I’m not interested in what you think. I’m here to see Zoey. So, step aside or I’ll just come in on my own.”

  I recognized that voice, and it filled me with both joy and dread. “Silas?” I’d forgotten Sheila’s prediction. Things were about to get hairy.

  The pooka craned his neck around the closet monster and grinned when he caught sight of me. “Zoey! Can you move this galoot out of my way? I heard you were having some trouble and came to offer assistance.”

  Maurice let out a deep, melodramatic sigh and stepped out of the way. As he moved, hi
s foot caught on the edge of the rug and he tripped sideways, arms flailing, knocking over a vase of flowers he’d set by the door.

  Vase, closet monster and flowers all crashed to the floor.

  Maurice shoved a finger in Silas’s direction while giving me the stink-eye. “You see? He hasn’t even come in yet and he’s causing problems.” He picked up the scattered daisies and shoved them into the empty vase, muttering to himself as he worked.

  Mom and I exchanged a concerned look.

  “Who’s Silas?” Mom asked. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Without setting foot inside, all the problems inherent to the pooka’s species had managed to surface. First, pookas brought enormous bad luck to anyone in their vicinity. And second, only one person at a time could see them.

  There were a few exceptions. Something about a closet monster’s eyes made it possible for Maurice to see him. Riley, having used his reaper ring to see Silas once, could also see him from then on. Andrew’s fennec fox, Milo, couldn’t see Silas, but he could hear him, so I had to assume it was that way with other animals as well, since, as much as I loved my little fox-face, he wasn’t magical.

  Silas stepped inside, suitcase in hand. “Good to see you, dollface. Is this the long-lost mother?”

  I smiled. “Welcome back, Silas.”

  He tipped his hat to me, then popped out of existence. Beside me, Mom jumped.

  “Well, hello,” she said. “You must be Silas.” She held her hand out and looked ridiculous shaking hands with no one. Silas had shifted to showing himself to Mom instead of me. “I see. Well, sure, okay. I’m sure she’ll put you in the guest room.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Maurice said. He rose to his full height, water dripping from his sleeve and a vase full of broken-stemmed flowers in his hand. “I’ve cleaned up after this guy before. He’s staying out back this time.”

  The first time Silas had shown up, Maurice had been out of town. The backyard hadn’t been set up for guests yet, either, so he’d taken the master bedroom.

  Silas was a bit of a pig.

  I snapped my fingers in the direction I thought he was probably standing. “Hey. Glad you’ve had a chance to chat with Mom, now put me back on.”

  He popped into view directly in front of me. “Of course, doll. So, how about that room? You know I like to soak in the tub.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve got a full house. But the tents outside are cozy.” He started to object, and I held my hand up to quiet him. “And before we even get started, house rules are still in effect. If you dirty it, clean it up. Maurice is not your slave. And even more important...” I leaned close and gave him my firmest stink-eye. “When you’re in my house? Always. Wear. Pants.”

  Silas made a face like he was bored. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you. Can’t believe you’re making me sleep in a tent this time.”

  “Sorry. Everybody’s home this time. Sara sleeps in the room you were in, and Kam has the other guest room.” This wasn’t entirely true. Several nights a week, Sara and Maurice slipped through the closet in that room and went to her house.

  Silas wiggled his eyebrows. “I remember that Sara dame. Think she might be willing to share?”

  “Hey!” Maurice’s temper flared, and he grew a few feet, nearly bumping his head on the ceiling. “She’s already sharing. Don’t even think about it.”

  Silas’s eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at me for confirmation. “Wait, that little sweet potato from your office is with this bozo?”

  I smiled. “Dude, you have no idea how much has happened in the last year or so. Let’s get you settled first, then we’ll bring you up to speed.”

  Silas followed me out back and, after darting in and out of several, chose the tent closest to the house. While I waited for him to choose, I glanced up at my roof and waved. Kam waved back and gave me a thumbs up.

  “Look,” I told Silas. “I know this sucks, but at least I’m not the one cooking. You’ll eat a lot better this time.”

  “Fair enough.” He plopped into a pile of cushions. In a flash of light, his pants were gone. He gave me a challenging look.

  I chose to ignore his half-naked, hairy state. He was testing me and taking me at my word. He wasn’t in the house, therefore the no-pants rule didn’t apply. Considering he was in what amounted to his own room, I wasn’t going to challenge him. I didn’t have to look, though.

  “So.” I pulled up a folding chair and had a seat. “What made you decide to come for a visit?” I leaned back, and my chair collapsed, sending me sprawling. “Son of a bitch.” I righted the chair and sat on a pillow on the ground. “Can’t you turn off that bad luck mojo?”

  “You know how it works, doll. It’s part of who I am.” He handed me a tissue from a box next to him, then pointed at my elbow. “You’re bleeding.”

  I stretched my arm around until I saw the wound. “Dammit.” The cut wasn’t deep, but it bled enough for me to be grateful for the tissue.

  “News gets around. You know how it works. Everybody’s talking about the Last Hidden and what he’s trying to accomplish. I like you, dollface. I don’t want you killed. But, no offense, I like the world even more. I have a good life. I don’t want to be sent to a new one with brand new rules. I don’t want to start over.”

  That was probably the most honest thing he’d ever said to me.

  “So, you came to help. I don’t suppose you have any idea how to stop him?” I mentally crossed my fingers that he had some secret, game-changing information.

  Silas gave an apologetic shrug. “Not in the slightest. The best I can hope for is maybe getting close enough to him that his luck sours and he can’t accomplish his goal.”

  “That doesn’t help us a whole lot. You’ve been here ten minutes, and Maurice and I have both been affected by your curse.”

  “Did you forget how to neutralize me? It hasn’t been that long.”

  “No. But my gargoyle snot is gone. I haven’t got anything.”

  He made a clucking sound of disgust. “Amateurs. You do know where lucky gargoyle snot comes from, right?”

  I felt incredibly stupid and nearly smacked myself in the head. “Gargoyles.”

  “Indeed.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  What followed was both surreal and disgusting. Maurice had to do some smooth talking to convince Phil to leave Tashi’s side for even a few minutes. She was distraught, and he was worried for her. Darius promised to stay with her until Phil came back.

  Everyone else was still out searching for Aaron and Dasho.

  Maurice rigged together a gargoyle-sized neti pot with a funnel and teakettle. He filled it with water, then had Phil lean over the plugged kitchen sink while Maurice poured warm, salty water into Phil’s left nostril. After a few seconds, water ran from the other nostril, and a series of pings and rattles sounded in the metal basin. When the water ran clear, Maurice had Phil tilt his head the other way, then repeated the procedure in Phil’s other nostril.

  The second side appeared to be more clogged than the first, and the clunking in the sink was louder and more often. Once that nostril, too, ran clear, Maurice handed Phil a towel. Phil blew his nose, a great, honking sound, then wiped his face and grinned.

  “My waffles aren’t ever going to orchestrate with an ostrich again!”

  Maurice chuckled and patted his brother-in-law on the back. “Glad it was worth it, buddy.” He reached into the sink and gathered the collection of stones from the snot water. “Would you mind giving them a polish? They’re so much prettier when you take care of them.”

  “Toss me a carrot and a stick of gum, and I’ll be soaring.” He held his hands out, and Maurice gave him the rocks.

  Phil’s face lit with glee as he shook his cupped hands in the air. The granite of his hands worked to polish the stones from his sinus cavi
ties, and before long, smooth, shiny green rocks flecked with silver lay in his palms.

  Considering how rare lucky gargoyle snot was supposed to be, this was an embarrassment of riches. There was enough polished gargoyle snot for everyone living or visiting on my property to take a piece, thereby protecting each of us from Silas’s bad luck. We were all safe, and Silas could walk around freely without worrying about screwing up a plan or tripping anyone. For anyone who carried a snot rock, Silas was neutralized.

  I hoped Shadow Man had no such protection.

  By nightfall, we had no new clues to either Shadow Man’s or the missing children’s whereabouts. Worse, Nick and Mari, a dryad and satyr couple who lived in the woods, were missing their adorable toddler, Fern. The situation was getting out of hand. Well, it had been out of hand, but now it was growing.

  Aaron was older. He could handle himself. But he was a brownie teenager. The baby and toddler were human-sized or larger, and Aaron wouldn’t be able to care for them on his own for long—assuming they were all together. I’d taken care of Fern when she was a newborn, and I loved Aaron and Dasho like they were my own nephews. I had to do something.

  On the bright side, the only kids left on the property were Edie and the rest of Molly’s kids. Someone had a close eye on each of them at all times.

  “Those babies are going to get hungry soon,” Maurice said, chewing a sandwich from the huge pile he’d made to feed everyone. “Then they’ll start crying. Have you ever heard Dasho cry? Kid has some lungs on him. If they’re anywhere near us, we’ll hear him.”

  Silas grabbed a third sandwich and regarded it with disgust. “I thought the food was supposed to be better than when the monster was gone.”

  “You didn’t have to make it yourself, did you?” I flicked a piece of cheese off his shirt and into the grass, then squinted at the sky. “It’ll be too dark to search soon. I’ve been waiting for them to be gone long enough to be uncomfortable so I can do my own brand of searching.”