Page 53 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

“But you explained it to him, right?” Peaches flew from Lucroy’s side to Muriel, scattering dust behind him. “He knows we don’t think badly of him, right?”

“Logically, he knows that.” Muriel fisted her hands on her ample thighs, and her dress swung around her ankles. “We’re all what we are, and Wendall’s no different, but sometimes being reminded of our less desirable traits isn’t all that welcome. Wendall got a big slap in the face today, and it’s gonna take him some time to come to terms with it.” Walking toward me, Muriel craned her neck so she could get a good look at my shoulder. “I told him you were probably already healed by now.” She patted me on the arm and took a couple of steps back.

Muriel wasn’t wrong. Decades had passed since I’d felt the itch of healing skin. It wasn’t welcome, but it wasn’t foreign either, and I’d much rather experience this slight discomfort than the incapacitation of injury.

Settling back against the bar, Muriel waved at Johnny. “You gonna pour an old lady one of those or not? Whiskey, not rum.”

“Old my ass,” Johnny chuckled.

“Older than you, pretty faun.” Muriel winked.

Johnny flushed several lovely shades of pink. He slid Muriel’s drink along the bar, and she took a healthy sip.

“Ahh, that just about hits the spot.” She took another couple of gulps before setting the glass back down and squarely looking us in the eyes. “So, book or amphora?”

“We were just discussing the possibilities before you returned,” I answered. “While we are uncertain, Lucroy and I believe the most likely object would be the amphora.”

Muriel nodded. “It’d have a better chance of weathering time and be less affected by the elements. My understanding is that a djinn’s object of attachment is charmed to withstand a lot, but they aren’t completely indestructible.”

“Would that do it?” Peaches flew a little closer to Muriel but snapped his wings closed before the area could refill with dust. “Destroying their object. Does that kill a djinn?” He sounded one part curious and two parts horrified.

“Theoretically,” Lucroy answered.

“But…it’s not really her fault,” Peaches protested. “Aurelia doesn’t want to do the things she’s done. I don’t think murder is the way to go about things.” With arms crossed, Peaches flew a little higher so he could stare each of us down. “I don’t think Wendall would want that either.”

“Neither do I, but if it comes down to her, me, or Wendall, I know which side of the fence I’m going to plant my feet.” Muriel had to look up to speak with Peaches.

“It would be a last resort,” I finally answered. “Fairy law is clear on the matter and sides with Peaches’s assessment of the situation. Djinns are rarely considered at fault for their actions.”

“That seems a little too convenient.” Johnny wasn’t impressed.

“Slavery is hardly convenient,” I defended fairy law.

Johnny’s downturned gaze and crossed arms were his form of contrition. “I didn’t think of it that way,” Johnny apologized. “It’s just that they’re so scary powerful, it’s hard thinking of them as victims.”

I understood. “It is important to remember that djinns did not ask to be created or bound. While my interactions with them have been few, several djinn are not wholly sane. I find Aurelia to be remarkably sensible. Her bitterness seems to be under control. Perhaps enough centuries have passed that she has managed to move on from her hatred.”

Peaches shivered. Lucroy’s arm immediately pulled him in closer, and Peaches willingly snuggled in. A pang of…something shot through my core. Considering I’d never felt it before, I didn’t immediately recognize the emotion as jealousy. When Peaches needed comfort, he’d gone to his beloved. When Wendall needed comfort, he’d quickly run from my sight.

“The more I learn about djinns, the more I feel sorry for them,” Peaches softly said, voice muffled against Lucroy’s shirt.

“While I can understand the sentiment, do not allow your kindness to cloud your actions.” I didn’t want anyone in this room harmed by sentimentality. “No matter how they were created, djinns are dangerous. A tornado does not ask to be created, and yet it destroys without mercy.”

Johnny grunted. “I don’t think the tornado’s a sentient being.”

“Is it not?” I argued. “Gaia might think differently.”

Johnny’s eyes flew wide, and his mouth dropped open. I didn’t wait for him to come up with an argument. I had no idea if tornadoes were sentient or not. Gaia was not my queen, and her destructive whims were of little concern.

“Somehow, we need to secure the amphora and book,” I said. “The amphora seems most likely, but it would be unwise to ignore the book.”

“Too bad Wendall didn’t get a good look at it,” Johnny accurately lamented. “Sounds like that professor’s office is riddled with old, falling-apart books. Not sure we’ll be able to figure out which one in particular he had in his hand when Wendall found him.”

“While that is true,” Lucroy answered, “I do not believe it would be a book the professor leaves lying about. As paranoid as Aurelia claims Stover has become, it would go against his nature to allow it out of his grasp for any period of time.”

“That’s true,” Peaches agreed while gently patting Lucroy’s chest.

“Indeed, it is.” I contemplated our options and lightly shook my head. “I could easily enter Stover’s office undetected, but it is doubtful the amphora or book are there. Since we believe Aurelia’s object of attachment is small enough to be carried on his person, it is unlikely we can simply pluck it from some random resting place.”

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