Page 21 of Medium
She shook her head. “No, my pack preferred to be unaffiliated.”
“Same with my pack,” Garfield said.
I turned west on San Felipe, relieved to be among more traffic. “What is a District Monitor, please?” I tried not to sound aggravated, but it was fucking late, and I was stressed beyond belief.
“Sorry,” Mercy said. “They’re a magic carrier who basically looks after the magical beings who live near them. The area is their District.”
I let off the gas. “I’m sorry, did you saymagic?”
Grandfather pointed at the green light ahead, so I started driving again.
Garfield patted me on the shoulder. “Yes. Didn’t you see my wolf? And Pia’s a dryad, remember? Not to mention you can talk to ghosts. Magic, Rory. It’s all magic.”
I did not give in to the impulse to pull over and have a lengthy argument. “I.... Okay. I grant you all have magic. But me? I thought I was psychic. Wouldn’t I know if I had magical abilities?”
Grandfather pointed at me. “Is that what that swirly thing is? I’ve been wondering about it since I died. Pia’s got one too.” He hiked a thumb toward the back seat.
The ghosts all nodded. Fucking hell. I could not deal with this right now.
“You can’t cast any spells or anything, Rory,” Garfield told me. “You just get to talk to ghosts.”
“And this District Monitor?”
Mercy said, “They connect with Wonders, keep them safe.” I opened my mouth, but she anticipated my question. “A Wonder is one of us.” Her gesture included herself and the back seat. “Non-humans.”
I wanted to ask what the hell she’d been in life, but I figured it was rude. And who were all these magic people who had nicknames for supernatural creatures?
I stopped at another light. “I’ll ask more questions tomorrow. Right now, we need to figure out where we’re going.”
There was a Target up ahead on the left, so I turned on my blinker. Once we were in the parking lot, I stopped and pulled out my phone. “Okay. How do we find a District Monitor?”
The ghosts all looked at each other but didn’t have any suggestions. I tried googling it, but didn’t get any results.
Mercy said, “We need to find some Wonders. They’ll know.”
I looked at her, then at Garfield. Lorraine was only paying attention to Pia. “Where do you hang out when you’re not in Randolph Chamberlain’s house?”
Mercy gave me a scathing look. “We’re not from here.” She left theidiotunsaid.
“What about a cemetery?” asked Grandfather. “I mean, you die, obviously. At least some of you need to be buried, right? Maybe there’re ghosts.”
Mercy and Garfield agreed it was worth a shot, so I started googling again. The only cemetery I was familiar with was Glenwood, which was where the rich people got buried. Not the most likely spot to find any dead non-humans. But the internet told me Glenwood had annexed a smaller cemetery which was home to many working immigrants and other less well-off dead folk. It was worth a shot.
I plugged Glenwood Cemetery into the GPS and got back on the road. Twenty minutes later we were there. Except when I turned off the road, the entrance was gated. Because it was fucking closed at night.
I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck!” Then I cringed. “Sorry, Pia. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me the cemetery would be closed.”
Grandfather patted my knee. “We can take it from here. You play on your phone or something.”
He, Mercy, and Garfield vanished. I peered through the gates, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. I couldn’t see any ghosts in fact. I rubbed my eyes. If this was a bust, I could always find a motel with rooms that opened onto the parking lot so I could sneak Pia and her plant in. I needed sleep.
Oh, shit. I was supposed to be at work in the morning. But Pia was more important. I fired off an email telling my boss I’d be out sick, most likely for more than one day. If he was mad, he could fire me. Pia was worth more than any job.
I twisted around and looked in the back seat. She’d twined herself around the plant. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was regular. It was hard to see in the darkness, but her skin didn’t appear as mottled as it had been before.
“She needs rest and food, but she’ll be okay.”
I grimaced at Lorraine. “Physically, you mean.” No doubt the poor kid could use some serious therapy.
