A week after the incident at the rock quarry, we buried Fletcher in Blue Ridge Cemetery. Me, Finn, Jo-Jo, Sophia, the waitstaff and cooks from the Pork Pit, some of Fletcher’s buddies, who were as gnarled and old and grumpy as he’d been. Roslyn Phillips also showed up for the service, although the vampire stood off to one side by herself.
It was another gorgeous fall day. Cerulean blue sky, bright sun, clouds that were smoother than marshmallow creme. The cemetery stood on a plateau on top of one of the mountains that ringed Ashland and offered a spectacular view of the sprawling city and countryside below. The grass gleamed like gold underfoot, while the burnt sienna and scarlet leaves painted the landscape with even more color. The mountaintops around us were smoky blue smudges against the sky.
We ringed a plain wooden casket burnished to a high gloss. Fletcher hadn’t wanted anything fancy, he hadn’t been that kind of man, and Finn had respected his father’s wishes. The preacher had just started the graveside service, and people were already weepy. Several of the waitstaff and cooks snuffled into tissues. The old men dabbed their eyes with white handkerchiefs. Finn did the same. Jo-Jo Deveraux bawled like a baby, unashamed of her many tears, even though they were ruining her makeup. Sophia stood over her older sister, patting her back. The younger dwarf was dry-eyed, just like me. I’d cried my tears the night I’d found Fletcher’s body. Now, I just felt … empty. Hollow. Another piece of my heart was gone, and it was never coming back. Just like all the other bits I’d lost over the years.
As the preacher spoke the traditional words of comfort, my mind drifted back to the day Fletcher had taken me in …
My family had been gone nine weeks now. Maybe ten. Time had little meaning to me anymore. All that mattered was finding enough food for one more day and someplace that wasn’t too cold to sleep at night. Something that was getting more difficult as winter approached. My favorite spot was next to this barbecue restaurant called the Pork Pit. A crack in the alley across from the back of the restaurant was just big enough for me to squeeze into. I liked the small, tight space and the muted contentment of the stones in the surrounding buildings. Both of them made me feel safe, even though I knew it was only an illusion.
Then there was the tall guy who ran the restaurant. Barbecue Man. That’s what I called him. He knew I hung around out back, but he didn’t yell or chase me away like the folks at the Italian and Chinese restaurants did. He even let me do odd jobs for him, like sweep out the stockroom. Last week I’d helped him defrost the freezers and clean these weird pink stains out of them.
He’d given me fifty bucks for a day’s work. I’d used the money to buy a black fleece jacket, a turtleneck, and the thickest pair of gloves they had at the Goodwill store. Barbecue Man was a lot nicer than the nuns over at the soup kitchen. They wanted to save your soul before they offered you so much as a glass of water. Hypocrites.
Barbecue Man had given me a hamburger a little over an hour ago for cleaning the gum off the tables in the front of the restaurant. I licked the last of the crumbs from my fingers, trying to make every single bite last. But Barbecue Man didn’t skimp with the meat, and this was one night I wouldn’t go hungry — one of a very few. The sandwich made me sleepy, and I curled into a tight ball and dozed off in my little crack, having survived another day on the streets of Ashland.
Sometime later, the stones woke me, their murmurs rising to a low, steady wail, thanks to the protection curls I’d set into the brick. My own sort of alarm, to keep me safe from the drugged-out bums, vampire prostitutes, and pimps. Something I’d seen one of the street elementals do, although she’d used fireballs to trigger her alarm instead of something else. Fire elementals had it so easy. They could use their magic to keep warm at night, and if somebody messed with them, they would get a face full of flames. Not for the first time, I wished I’d been born a Fire instead of a Stone.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, clutching the loose brick in my lap. I’d used my magic to pry it out of one of the alley walls a few days ago. A pitiful weapon, but it was better than nothing. It only took me a moment to find the source of the alarm. A man stood in the shadows to my left. I stilled, hoping he wouldn’t see me. I was very good at staying still and quiet. Being invisible was a necessary skill I’d perfected these past few weeks.
The back door of the restaurant opened, and Barbecue Man came out, carrying the last of the day’s garbage. He whistled a cheery tune as he slung the refuse in the Dumpster.
The man stepped out of the shadows. He raised a gun and pointed it at Barbecue Man’s back. And I realized he was going to kill him. He was going to shoot Barbecue Man.
“Watch out!” I screamed.
Barbecue Man turned. He saw the gun and jerked to one side. The shot went wide. Barbecue Man threw himself on top of the other guy, and they fell to the alley floor. Kicking, punching, cursing. The man with the gun crawled on top of Barbecue Man and wrapped his hands around his throat. Strangling him. He was going to kill Barbecue Man.
Unless I did something to stop it.
I’d seen plenty of horrible things on the street. People shot, stabbed, beaten. Bums strung out on drugs and jonesing for more. Elementals driven crazy by their own magic. Vampire hookers sucking the life out of folks who didn’t pay their tab. I’d learned not to get involved in anyone else’s problems. That was a quick way to die. But Barbecue Man had been nice to me when no one else had. He didn’t deserve to get robbed behind his own restaurant. Besides, if he died, I’d have to move on to somewhere else. And I didn’t want to do that.
So I reached for my magic. I let the Stone power fill my veins, and I stared at the back of the Pork Pit, focusing my attention on the rust-colored bricks. One brick that was already loose began to move and vibrate, working itself free of the wall. The men continued to struggle. I sat there, holding my magic, waiting for my chance.
Barbecue Man clawed at the other guy’s eyes, and the stranger pulled back, putting some space between them. All the opportunity I needed. I focused, and the vibrating brick flew out of the wall. The heavy stone struck the man in the temple, and his neck snapped to one side. I heard the crack all the way across the alley. A sound I’d heard before. The one that made me want to throw up. I’d broken his neck. I’d used my magic to kill yet again. What kind of monster was I?
Barbecue Man gasped in a deep breath. Then he shoved the other man off him and stood up. I huddled in my crack, wondering if Barbecue Man would call the cops. If he did, I’d use another brick. But just to stun him. I wasn’t going to kill Barbecue Man. Not him.
Barbecue Man reached down and picked up the loose brick. He stared at me a moment, then turned and knelt beside the other man. Barbecue Man smashed the brick against the stranger’s head three more times. Blood spurted everywhere. I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming.