The Undead Pool

Bis moved to a nearby tombstone, and we watched Tulpa flick his ears and huff at the pixies arrowing to him. I hadn’t liked Trent’s noncommittal answer when I’d pressed him again about elven magic being stronger than demon. Sure, humans had been summoning and containing demons for centuries, but containment was not control. Those slave rings, though . . . They had been the ugliest things I’d ever touched.

A dim spot of gold edged in blue circled Tulpa, driving the rest away so the horse could stand and watch the fire-glow from Cincinnati in peace. It evolved into Jenks as the pixy darted to us, circling once before landing on a tall Queen Anne’s lace. “You look better,” I said as the plant swung and bobbed and slowly settled, and Jenks shrugged.

“I taped my wing but it still itches like hell,” he said sourly.

Bis rustled his wings, his red eyes blinking eerily in the dark. “Well, tell her,” he prompted, making me wonder what was up.

Jenks pulled his gaze from his kids tormenting Tulpa. “Bis,” he complained, unusually whiny. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” the cat-size gargoyle prompted.

“But it’s not her who I need to apologize to,” he said, and my thoughts darted to Jenks caught in Ayer’s lantern.

“Bis, we all get tagged sometimes,” I said, as uncomfortable as Jenks. “It happens. We work around it. No big deal.”

“That’s not what he needs to apologize for.” Bis shot Jenks another dark look. “It’s a big deal, and you need to say the words. To her. Now.”

Jeez Louise, I thought, pushing up from the monument I’d been leaning against and heading for the church. Something had gotten Bis’s knickers in a twist. “It can’t be that bad,” I prompted, trying to make light of it, whatever it was.

“Ah . . .” Jenks hesitated as he landed on a shoulder, and I started when Bis landed on my other one and bopped Jenks with the tip of his lionlike tail. “Okay! Okay!” Jenks protested, a thin slip of silver dust falling down my front. “I’m sorry for the way that I’ve been treating Trent,” he said, almost belligerent.

Trent? Confused, I looked at Bis, his ugly, pushed-in face inches from mine. He was leaning forward to see around me, his grimace clearly saying he was waiting for Jenks to say more. “Why are you apologizing to me?” I said, thinking that Jenks and Trent had a great relationship, then thinking I never thought I’d ever think that—not in a million years.

Bis cleared his throat, and Jenks’s wings tickled my neck. “Because it involves you,” the pixy said. “I misjudged him. I thought he was all talk, no action. Just a, ah, piece of pretty elf ass. And he is! But . . .”

I stepped over the low stone wall separating the graveyard from the backyard, being careful not to dislodge either of them. Piece of pretty elf ass? “But what?”

Jenks took to the air, hands on his hips as he glared at Bis. “Why don’t you go away?”

“Soon as you say it,” he shot back, his tail wrapping across my back and under my arm.

I stopped where I was, not wanting to go into the church and involve Ivy. Jenks fidgeted in midair, a dull spot of gold in the night. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Just hear me out.” I nodded, and he added, “Ah, he’s an okay backup.”

Ah-h-h-h . . . Finally it began to make sense. Trent had said he had my back, and Jenks told him it wasn’t his job. I took a breath to protest, holding it when Bis pinched my shoulder.

Jenks’s dust grayed. “He has some inabilities that might get you killed, sure,” he said, and Bis cleared his throat in warning, “but he’s doing okay.”

“Inabilities,” I prompted, glancing at the shadows moving in the kitchen. Ivy, probably, seeing as Nina was zonked out on Brimstone to keep Felix from taking her over.

“You know.” Jenks fidgeted. “Jumping to the wrong conclusion, overreacting. Kind of like you used to be.” He looked up, flashing me a sick-looking smile. “I’m sorry for doubting your ability to pick a good . . . uh, work partner on your own. Okay?” He made an ugly face at Bis, flipping him off as he flew backward.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I said, hand waving in protest. “I can pick a good work partner? Jenks, you’re my backup, not Trent. That’s not changing.”

Jenks’s nasty expression softened, becoming both full of pride and sorrow. I’d seen him look at his daughters like that, and something in me hurt. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Good luck with that. Can I go now, you stinky piece of bat flesh?”

That last had been directed at Bis, and looking as satisfied as Buddha, he nodded. Immediately Jenks darted off. Tulpa was snapping at his kids, ears pinned and tail swishing.

“Jenks?” I called, faltering when Ivy came to the back door. “We’re going to talk about this later,” I muttered at Bis, and the first hints of unease stole over his softly pebbled features.

Ivy stood behind the screen door, arms over her middle. “What was that all about?”

I slowly climbed the stairs, the weight of three sleepless nights heavy on me. “I don’t know. How’s Nina?”