Page 48 of Midnight in the Garden of Okay and Meh
“That was him,” I said, giving another shiver at the memory of the despair in what had to be my dad’s eyes. “How did you guys get out? I assume you had Mabel zap you out?”
“Yes,” she said, then pulled the blanket up higher on her shoulders, her eyes troubled. I studied her for a moment. She looked like a Bollywood actress, with shiny black hair, dark gray eyes, and an oval face with a little cleft in her chin. I thought of my human form, and wondered about the fact that it also had a chin cleft. “The reaper took me, and Sally took herself. It matters little. I must meditate on this. I do not understand, and that disturbance will have a detrimental effect on my ability to protect.”
“What happened other than you nearly froze to death?” Aisling asked, setting down in front of me a bowl of what smelled like broth.
“No meat? No veggies?” I asked her, sniffing the bowl again.
“Drink your warm broth,” she said in an annoyed tone that filled me with relief. Not that I minded being pampered, but I didn’t like the strain around her eyes. I slurped at the soup while Sally and Parisi gave a brief recap of our adventure.
“Boggarts,” Aisling said with a near snort. “Those bastards are just evil. You think they’re guards, Sally?”
“I don’t know for certain, not having looked specifically into the running of the Thirteenth Hour, but yes, it was clear how they swarmed us that they were intent on stopping Parisi and Effrijim from freeing the handsome Desi.”
Parisi shot a sharp glance at Sally, but almost immediately withdrew back into the confines of her blanket, her expression abstracted.
“You recognized him, though,” Aisling said, turning to Parisi. “That must mean your memory is returning. That has to be a huge relief.”
“No, I do not know the man. That is ... I recognize something about him, but I do not know him. It is clear, however, he is in torment, and as a defender of those who cannot help themselves, I am obligated to release him from his prison.”
“I don’t know how we’re going to do that with the place crawling with boggarts,” I said with a faint flicker of hope. If Aisling was right, then Parisi was getting her memory back, even if it was just a little bit at a time. “We’d have to get rid of them, and I can’t do that by myself.”
Sally heaved a dramatic sigh and rose from the sofa. “I suppose I shall have to volunteer to distract the guards while you and Parisi rescue Desi. If Mabel is done with her phone call, we can return to the Hour. Jenna is waiting for us near the Hyde Park toilets.”
“Oh, I don’t know. ... Is it safe for you to return so soon? Jim’s form was almost destroyed by the cold,” Aisling said, making me give her another fast head rub to the leg. “And Parisi seemed to be affected by it, as well.”
“Affected but not damaged by it, defenders being what they are,” Parisi murmured.
“If we’re going to the Hour again, I’d strongly urge you to get going now rather than later. The director at my ballet is not going to be happy if I have to take more time off for an injury that has actually healed.” Mabel appeared in the doorway, not looking annoyed, as I’d half expected, but somehow worried. Anxious. Almost frightened.
I wondered about that.
“Jim?” Aisling looked at me with a line between her brows. “Do you feel up to it?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s no walk in the park with burgers after, but I kinda feel like I have to help, you know?”
“I know,” she said, and gathered up the stuff for my backpack.
It took a little longer than we anticipated, but an hour later, we trotted down the stone stairs to the Lake of Upside-Down Sinners.
“Fresh breathers,” Sally said as I nosed the devices out of my backpack.
“Check,” I said.
“Underwater flares, six.”
“Check. You think those will work?”
She gave the slightest of shrugs. “If I was a guard swimming around a black lake filled with thirteen hundred sinners, I’d certainly be interested enough in strange lights to go investigate.”
“Suppose so,” I agreed, although a bit hesitantly. I wondered if Sally knew just how devious boggarts could be. They were on Aisling’s list of least favorite beings, because they were the size of a six-year-old child and looked like they were a million years old with twisted, hunched backs and faces that would give even an elite wrath demon nightmares. And they were cunning. Very cunning.
“The flares are just to get their attention.” Sally examined them, twirling them around her fingers. “And when they come out of the water, I’ll hit them with the flamethrower.”
“What flamethrower?” I asked, looking up from nosing the pair of bolt cutters toward Parisi. She was adjusting a belt on top of her wet suit, strapping to herself her axes, scabbard, and sword.
“Didn’t I tell you I found a flamethrower lying around?” Sally looked as innocent as a baby whose mom diminished into another realm a few hours after his birth. “You know how boggarts dislike fire.”
“Yeah, but not the big imps they like to run around with,” I said, thinking back to the previous Christmas when we were stuck in an airport.
