Page 120 of Grim Tidings

“Three locations?” I ask, confused. “She’s been here the whole time.”

“I know that, you idiot. I’m the one who planted her magic at those other locations. I checked there first hoping to run the Ferry-men in circles for a while longer, but Gideon had already burned through. I can only assume this is his third and final stop.”

“Shit,” I mutter, picking up the pace. “Where is she?”

We’ve checked her house, the bakery she likes, even Frank’s. But the first two spots were empty, and Frank’s windows were dark.

“Yeah,” Aelia agrees, Tootsie Pop hanging out of her mouth like a cigarette. “Shit is right, bird man.”

We step off the curb and cross the street, making our way toward the small garden on the east side of town. It’s right at the edge of the water and I know Darcy likes to go there when she’s feeling over-whelmed.

“Stop calling me that,” I mutter, but I’m distracted. I’m scanning every face, looking for hers. Listening for her smoky laugh in the crowd.

Aelia grips my arm and drags me to a stop. She’s surprisingly strong for someone so small. “Hold on. What’s that?” We backtrack until we’re standing at the mouth of an alley. A massive dark brown blur is weaving around the discarded trash bins, his nose low to the ground. “Is that the zombie dog?”

I whistle, and Tater Tot’s head snaps up. He barks once, then turns and starts trotting in the opposite direction.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter. I start after him, uncaring if the tiny demon child is with me or not. “Tater Tot!” I call. “Wait!”

Aelia hustles alongside me, her bag of candy bouncing over her shoulder. “She named the dog Tater Tot?”

“Don’t get me started.”

We follow Tater Tot down one alley and into another. The streets are full of families now, the sun sinking over the horizon. Lights from flashlights and glowing pumpkin necklaces make the shadows seem longer. Two blocks over, someone screams.

We both move faster.

I clench my teeth, frustrated. My wings ache to expand. I keep having to shove the hilt of my sword back into my skin. I’m sore and furious and so damn worried I can’t see straight.

The farther we follow the dog, the closer I tiptoe toward panic. The scars across my chest throb in time with my phantom heart-beat. The pain of it is almost unbearable.

We break free of the cobblestone streets and down a long and winding dirt path. It’s easier to follow Tater Tot now, one long road that leads to towering wrought-iron gates. He stops there, turning circles in front of one of the massive stone pillars that hold them in place.

The stone is chipped, great blocks of it crumbled at the ground like some sort of beast took two handfuls and pulled. Ivy crawls along the edges, creeping toward the rusted-over handles. At the top of the pillars are two massive stone angels, their wings torn away. And beyond the gate, tombstones stand like sentinels.

“Of course,” Aelia pants. “Had to be a graveyard.” She bends at the waist. “How horribly fucking cliché.”

Tater Tot whines at the gate, trying to nudge his nose between the bars. I scratch my fingers between his ears, and he turns beseeching brown eyes up at me.

“Is she in there?”

He snaps his teeth, impatient.

“Yeah, I know the feeling, bud.”

I reach for the chain that secures the handles and give it one hard yank. It falls to the ground with a clatter, and the doors swing open. Tater Tot immediately rushes through, weaving between the grave-stones and heading for the hill on the western perimeter.

“We should split up,” I tell Aelia. Frankly, I don’t trust her not to be on Gideon’s side. My only priority is getting Darcy out safely. “You follow the fence and I’ll follow the dog.”

“Fuck you, I’ll follow the dog. Clearly, he knows where she is.”

“Could be a trap.” I force myself to be nonchalant. To shrug. But it feels like there’s an entire hive of bees beneath my skin. “Maybe Gideon has a box of Milk-Bones, I don’t know. Just follow the fence and I’ll—”

“What the hell is going on?”

Frank stands on the curb next to his truck, his arms banded around three big bouquets of dried daisies. I drop my head back and sigh at the sky, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose.

Can nothing be easy?