Party Ghoul

by Sarina Dorie

  “What about the gnomes and the wards being down? How will I keep the gnomes away from the corpse?”

  “Large-scale wards are a job that the principal and dean usually handle. Mrs. Gordmayer will be back from vacation in a few days to oversee that task.” He waved a hand at the corpse. “A simple spell on the body should suffice. Do you want me to cast a ward for you?”

  Vega shook her head. She was fully capable of casting wards.

  “Do your best to protect the body until the DMV is able to collect it tomorrow. No one can blame you for the gnomes so long as you try your best.”

  Vega doubted that. Mrs. Gordmayer would always find a way to blame her. It didn’t help that this situation was her fault.

  * * *

  Vega flew high over the school to fully see the extent of damage. As she unfocused her gaze, the school wards looked like a moth-eaten blanket. The threads of protection were frayed and disrupted everywhere. It was quite possible that Barnabas’s estimate hadn’t been overly exaggerated because of how the gnomes had ravaged the wards.

  Yet the principal expected Vega to ensure a less costly quote. What if she found out Vega was the reason the estimate was so high in the first place? Had that first relocation expert given the principal the quote, they could have taken care of the gnomes before it had gotten this bad. This was all her fault.

  After a quick sandwich for dinner, Vega researched the correct wards to use for the school. She had spent an entire year teaching defensive and protective magic, but she was used to creating spells for one person. The quality ones to protect against Fae enchantments were meant to be used during an attack and for short amounts of time.

  Creating wards for a school long term was different. They required multiple affinities and more than one person to weave the magic.

  No matter. She was a Celestor. She could handle anything.

  By herself.

  She toiled for hours that night repairing the school wards. The only benefit to doing so after dark was that she was able to absorb starlight to aid her in this task. She worked up quite an appetite and devoured all her kale chips.

  Her room smelled vaguely like cherry cobbler. She suspected the delectable aroma came from Mrs. Angelopoulos’s purse. She unclasped the purse and inhaled, her mouth watering.

  It was tempting to see what kind of delicious tidbits the witch had hidden in there, but if Vega ate any animal flesh, she would regret it. Her body would transform into whatever she had eaten, few creatures being the exception.

  Vega closed the purse and stuffed it under clothes in the dresser in the hope of burying the smell. All night her belly grumbled, hungering for meat. Sweet, juicy, rotting corpse flesh. She tried not to think about the cadaver on the field.

  In the morning, Vega’s skin was a sickly gray. Sometimes that happened when she ate meat. Sometimes it just happened when she was tempted to eat it.

  When she gazed out the window and examined her wards, she was disappointed to see new holes. So long as the school was harboring unwanted pests, they would keep damaging the protective magic until she got rid of the gnomes.

  Vega called Gnome Relocation Services. She was able to get an appointment with Sydney that afternoon. She hoped the representative who would be arriving later in the day wouldn’t be the same witch she’d turned away days before.

  She placed the note with the good news in Mr. Gordmayer’s mail slot. The note with the bad news about a student’s death, she placed underneath, hoping the principal and secretary would start with the good news first.

  Vega ate a plain bagel and fruit for breakfast, but she couldn’t satiate the famine in her belly. It only increased when she stopped in her room. Vega dug the purse from the dresser and opened it again. She inhaled.

  There was no way so much tempting fragrance should have been wafting out of the purse. Mrs. Angelopoulos would have had to store a lot of dead animals within.

  Or a dead body.

  The idea made Vega’s stomach growl. It sounded as if there were a demon trapped inside her. In a way there was—a filthy ghoul who wanted to eat the dead. She lit the tip of her wand and reached into the depths of the purse.

  She told herself she wasn’t doing this because she intended to eat whatever delectable tidbits were stored within. She just needed to satisfy her curiosity.

  The purse opened to a space a hundred times bigger. Bottles were shoved onto shelves within reach. A jar of eyeballs was overturned, some of the contents spilled out. The ones that had tumbled out of the liquid were dried, resembling prunes. Several of the bottles beside the jar might have been alcohol. It was hard to say. Next to the eyeballs was an iced coffee in a clear plastic cup, though the ice had melted. It was probably the same drink Mrs. Angelopoulos had been drinking during her lesson.

  Books were scattered about haphazardly with candles, clusters of herbs, a cauldron, a cracked crystal ball, and other magical paraphernalia.

  It was obvious where the bathtub had been stored from the large empty section. Beside the spot for the bathtub, almost hidden in the shadows, was a rolled-up carpet.

  Feet clad in sandals stuck out of the end of the carpet. Perhaps it was simply her hunger and the shadows playing tricks on her eyes.

  Vega increased the intensity of her light. The wand flared brilliantly white, illuminating the contents of the purse.

  Those were definitely feet. The flesh was gray and had probably been in a state of decay for over a month.

  Vega knew what to do with one body. The DMV would take care of Mrs. Angelopoulos. She had no idea whom to call about the second one.

  At least she couldn’t be blamed for causing the death of this corpse.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Once upon a Corpse

  Vega had often misplaced items in her bottomless pit of a purse, though that was easily remedied with divination spells. Sometimes she forgot what she stored in her purse until she accidentally exhumed it.

  However, she could never claim to have lost or forgotten about a dead body. Whatever Mrs. Angelopoulos had planned to do with that body—whoever it had been—it wasn’t her business. She didn’t have time for this.

  Vega needed to call the DMV to get them to remove Mrs. Angelopoulos. She would give them her purse when they came to pick her up. They could figure out what to do with the contents of her bag when they looked inside.

  She didn’t even need to tell them she had seen a corpse. They could find that out on their own.

  Problem solved.

  Vega used the directory behind Mr. Gordmayer’s desk to look up the correct division at the Department of Magical Violations and used the magic mirror to call them.

  The man who answered the Nonurgent Emergency Division was a hottie with long brown hair and sharp teeth. She didn’t mind that he flirted with her through the mirror.

  “Are you calling about something . . . urgent?” He grinned rakishly at her. “It’s my job to attend to your needs.”

  “Is that so?” Vega didn’t mind playing along. He was attractive, and if flirting helped get rid of her problem, she wasn’t above that. “What if it happens my needs include taking care of a body on the lawn?”

  “Your body?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. “I wouldn’t mind personally coming to your location to take care of that.” He winked.

  “No, a dead one.”

  His smile vanished. “Oh, I guess that is an urgent need.”

  Vega supposed she should have held off from mentioning that until she found out his name, if he liked dancing, and if he was single.

  “Let’s see how soon I can get someone out there to take care of that body for you,” he said, turning all business.

  Vega gave him information about the school, the name of the student, and Mrs. Angelopoulos’s flying license number from her registration form.

  “It looks like there is no next of kin listed in her records,” he said. “She doesn’t have any family
who can pick up the body. That means it will take us a little longer than usual to send someone out for the retrieval and disposal.”

  “The family has to do that?” Was this what life was like for the average person without servants to do tasks for them?

  “Contrary to popular belief, our branch of the council doesn’t have a huge crew to deal with situations like this.” He shrugged. “You’re on your own until someone gets out there.”

  What was this, the Wild West? This was completely unacceptable.

  Vega leaned forward and used what she hoped was an enticing tone. “I don’t suppose you would be available to take care of the body yourself?”

  “Um. For a dead body?” He gave a nervous chuckle. “No.”

  Like most Witchkin, he was a wimp when it came to dead bodies. He probably was afraid of ghosts, séances, and necromancy too. Obviously, he was too vanilla for her liking. It was another reminder of what she was, a depraved ghoul with unusual proclivities.

  There was no one out there who would understand her. And if she did find someone, he would be a ghoul like her or some other kind of demon. Small children already seemed like little monsters. The idea of passing on dangerous traits from two demon lineages was even more unnerving.

  The man on the other side of the mirror said, “The soonest I can get someone out there to take care of that body is Tuesday of next week.”

  That was ridiculous. How incompetent were these people?

  “It’s supposed to be in the nineties for the next three days,” she said. “The body is going to smell by then.” Smell delicious. “Plus, the school has a gnome problem. I caught them licking the dead body yesterday.”

  He placed a hand on his chest and flinched back from the mirror, looking absolutely mortified. “Cannibal gnomes?”

  Flirting hadn’t gotten her the outcome she desired. Perhaps playing to his survival instincts would. “That’s right. Gnomes who eat the dead. Necrophages. I won’t be able to keep them away. In fact, I haven’t gone out there to see the body this morning. I don’t know what will be left.”

  He shuddered. “I’ll give you a call if someone becomes available sooner.”

  Until then, Vega would do her best to resist temptation.

  * * *

  Vega had lessons to teach. Fortunately, none of her students had the audacity to die on Thursday. The way the class whispered and snuck glances at her in the classroom told her that gossip about the body had spread fast. She couldn’t tell whether that was anxiety or disgust in their eyes.

  The representative from Gnome Removal Services arrived at two in the afternoon, amazingly between flying appointments. Vega was just returning by the front door from a lesson when the other witch flew up on her broom.

  It turned out Sydney was the same woman in gray robes that had arrived on Saturday morning. Vega held her chin high, forced herself to look calm, and composed her face into what she hoped was a professional smile.

  “Mrs. Gordmayer?” Sydney lifted her nose up at Vega. “I heard you were desperate for an estimate.”

  Vega chose to rise above the taunting tone. She was doing this as a favor to the principal so that Mrs. Gordmayer would be obliged to perform a favor for her in return. Hopefully that favor came in the form of a position at the school.

  “Shall I show you the grounds?” Vega asked.

  Today Sydney avoided the excrement land mines. Vega stuck with her during the entire tour of the school grounds. Sydney was adept at flying on a broom while checking off items on a clipboard. In the forest, Vega read what Sydney wrote over her shoulder. This surveyor didn’t write down that she saw any scatological indications of hellhounds or pixies. That was in the school’s best interest. Mrs. Gordmayer would be pleased.

  Unfortunately when Sydney handed over the quote, she estimated one hundred and fifty gnomes. Vega wondered if fifty more had gotten in. Or if Sydney was overestimating because she thought she could pull the wool over Vega’s eyes.

  Vega attempted to embrace her Bloodmire heritage and exude poise and formidable grace. “Magical Wildlife Movers quoted less than a hundred gnomes.”

  Sydney shrugged. “You can go with your other estimate, then.”

  Vega eyed the other charges Sydney had tallied on there. “What’s this extra service fee?”

  “It’s our F.U. Special. My company adds it on for exceptional customers like you.” Her eyes narrowed as she smiled.

  At eight thousand dollars, it was still less expensive than Magical Wildlife Movers. Vega didn’t know what she was going to tell the principal the extra service fee was for. She’d have to think of an appropriate acronym for F.U.

  “I’ll need to give this to my secretary to discuss costs,” Vega said.

  As they flew back to the front of the school, they flew over Mrs. Angelopoulos’s dead body. Two gnomes stood stooped over her face.

  “What’s that?” Sydney asked.

  “Excuse me. I have to shoo gnomes away from the corpse.” She dove down toward the body, removed her wand from her sleeve, and hurled a spell made of plants at a gnome that looked as if it were kissing the corpse.

  The plants impacted the gnome and threw him off balance, tangling around him so that he couldn’t run away. Her plant bondage wasn’t as quick as Orsolya’s, but Vega also suspected the groundskeeper was an Amni Plandai, and her affinity lent her special plant powers.

  Instead of running away, the second gnome dove toward the corpse and licked Mrs. Angelopoulos’s fingers.

  “Did that gnome just do what I think it did?” Sydney shrieked.

  “Probably,” Vega said.

  The sun had beat down on the corpse, the scent of cherries jubilee rising up and wafting on the breeze. It wasn’t strong enough to drown out Mrs. Angelopoulos’s garlic scent, though. That had grown stronger in the sun as well.

  The mixture wasn’t enough to tempt Vega’s ghoul senses.

  Vega threw a plant spell at the second gnome, who rolled away into the first one. Now that Vega had captured two gnomes, she didn’t actually know what to do with them.

  Sydney hovered above the bathtub on her broom. “These gnomes are depraved!”

  “I suppose you would know. You’re the gnome expert.” Vega wondered if she might be able to guilt Sydney into lowering the cost. “You can see why a school needs to be free of them. There’s no telling what they’ll do. Even during the summer, we have children on the grounds for classes. Such a shame.”

  “Normal gnomes don’t sexually assault corpses,” Sydney said. “Something must be wrong with them.”

  As if on cue, the writhing gnomes trying to free themselves from Vega’s plant rope snarled at the gnome expert.

  Vega didn’t think kissing counted as sexual assault; it was possible the gnomes were romantics and thought they might be resuscitating Mrs. Angelopoulos. Even so, she decided to play up the death card because she knew other Witchkin found it repulsive.

  She constructed a new ward around the body. “They’re persistent about getting to this corpse. It really is a shame, children being exposed to these dastardly little creatures. If they see the gnomes trying to eat her, it will give them nightmares for years.” Vega sighed with the drama of a thespian. “If only that estimate wasn’t so high, I’m certain we could relocate them sooner.”

  “You can’t relocate these little necrophages.” Sydney stared at Vega, appalled. “They might infect other gnomes in the wild.”

  Vega shrugged. “No relocation. Extermination, then? That sounds like it should be . . . less expensive.”

  “You need a special permit for that. That costs extra.” Sydney stuck her nose up in the air.

  Vega had a bad feeling she’d just dug her grave even deeper. “How do I get a permit?”

  “You have to apply for one from the Witchkin Council.”

  “So I need to get a permit, and then your company can just exterminate them? That should be less costly for you.”
/>
  “Please disregard my earlier estimate.” Sydney waved a hand at the gnomes. “My company doesn’t handle exterminating diseased and degenerate magical creatures.”

  Once again, Vega’s brilliance had backfired. This quote wasn’t going to help Vega kiss up to the principal.

  * * *

  No one died during lessons or the adult class that evening.

  Janis Meadowcloud approached Vega after class, her metal bangles sounding like music. “Have you contacted that poor dear’s family?”

  Vega stared at her, confused. “You mean, Mrs. Angelopoulos?” Janis’s enemy?

  “Yes, how sad for her to suddenly die like that.” Janis’s face was composed in an expression of sympathy.

  Vega didn’t like the hungry look in her eyes. After going to a school for girls, Vega knew when to recognize a catty gossipmonger fishing for details when she encountered one. Vega turned the tables on her.

  Vega snapped her lesson-plan book closed. “Did you know the deceased well? I remember her talking to you on the first day of class.”

  “No, not well. I only met her once before this.” Janis leaned in closer. “She was clearly drunk while flying. That’s why she crashed into me.”

  “And why are you in this class if you’re innocent?” Vega crossed her arms.

  Janis grimaced. “I was flying in the Morty Realm. I lost hold of my glamour, and I was spotted.”

  It wasn’t so different from what Vega had been fined for—though in that case it had been caused by magic that had interfered with her broom. She supposed she should have felt sympathy for Janis, yet there was just something rehearsed and exaggerated about her story.

  Janis waved an arm covered in metal bracelets. “It’s a shame, but all things considered, I can’t complain. I didn’t lose my license. I only had a fine and was told I needed to attend this class.”

  It was a lenient consequence from the Department of Magical Violations.

  “Lucky you,” Vega said.