Ghost Walk (30 page)

Darn
it, why did her family have to make everything so complicated?  The clay vial
had read “tired powder” right on the side of it.  “Tired powder” as in
“sleeping powder” as in “frigging
knockout powder
,” right?  She’d
checked, before she took it.

At
least, she
thought
it said “tired.”

Loyal’s
old-fashion handwriting wasn’t exactly Times New Roman.  Had she misread the
label?  If so what had she just doused Eugenia in?  Grace actually checked her
pockets, as if another vial might somehow have snuck into her apron.  All she
came up with was the magnifying glass.  This wasn’t good.  As far as Grace knew
no
enchanted powders were green.  Well, except the fabled and
probably-phony…

Troll
powder.

Oh
God.

Grace’s
gaze slashed back up to Eugenia, her lips parting in horror as the other woman
began to transform right in front of her.  She might have skipped the
Harry
Potter
films, but she’d seen
Avengers
and she knew what the
Incredible Hulk looked like.  Eugenia’s body got bigger and greener and hairier
as the powder seeped into her system.  Her demure black dress ripped along the
seams as she grew.  Cunning intelligence stayed in Eugenia’s eyes, but now she
was about six times her normal dimensions.

Grace
had just super-sized a serial killer.

Eugenia
let out furious bellow of animalistic hatred.

“Sorry!” 
Grace blurted out.  “Sorry about that.  It
totally
wasn’t what I was
going for.”

Eugenia
didn’t seem appeased.  Grace’s words to Serenity back at the shop had been
one-hundred percent correct:  Nobody wanted to become a troll.

Grace
winced as Eugenia slammed a wrathful fist against the ground hard enough to
shake it.  “Umm…  Yeah.”  She considered her options for a heartbeat and then took
off running.  What else was she supposed to do?

It
seemed like a lousy idea to lead a raving lunatic straight into to the 4
^th
of July celebration, so she went in the opposite direction.  Darting around
Eugenia’s massive body, she headed for the armory.

Why
couldn’t the powder make people into those
cute
tolls from
Frozen
? 
At least then there would be songs and snowman hugs.

Eugenia
grabbed at Grace, hotdog-sized fingers barely missing her throat.  She caught
hold of the tour guide costume instead and Velcro ripped free.  The apron came
off of her, tripping Grace.  She tumbled to the ground, the magnifying glass falling
from her pocket and landing next to her.

Crap,
crap,
crap!

If
she got out of this alive, she was going to make sure troll powder
stayed
extinct.  No
way
were they ever going sell this stuff on the open
market, no matter how much her family wanted to drive Madam Topanga out of
business.  It would end up in nothing but lawsuits, and flattened cities, and tears.

Eugenia
dragged Grace closer, no doubt intent on crushing her bones to make bread.

Without
even stopping to think, Grace grabbed the magnifying glass and smashed the lens
against one of rocks lining the walkway.  Clutching the largest shard, she stabbed
it into Eugenia’s hand.  The jagged edge sank deep into green flesh.  Eugenia
let out a roar of pain, loosening her grip enough that Grace was able to
squiggle away.

Meanwhile,
down below, the gigantic troll was not going unnoticed by the townsfolk.  Clara
Vance’s irritating voice let out an even more irritating screech.  “Witch!”  It
was her favorite word, so of course that was the explanation she went with.  “Eugenia
Wentworth has been the witch, all along!  I told you!  I told you all along! 
Look
at her!
”

Like
Japanese crowds spotting Godzilla, Harrisonburg-ians pointed, screamed, and ran
for their lives.  All very unhelpful.  But, on the plus side, it was a sure bet
no one was planning to lynch Jamie anytime soon.  Not with Eugenia charging
around like a character from
World of Warcraft
.

“Grace!” 
Jamie shouted, battling the exodus to reach her.  “What the bloody hell is
going on!?”

Grace
was too winded to answer that.  She clambered to her feet and aim what little
magic she knew at Eugenia.  The menstrual cramp spell hit like a freight train,
but instead of providing soothing, relaxing, drugged-out comfort, it seemed to do
the exact opposite.  Troll powder apparently reacted badly with other magic. 
Maybe that was why the recipe was forgotten in her time.  Or possibly it was
forgotten because it had no practical purpose outside of a demolition derby.

Either
way, all the menstrual cramp spell did was give Eugenia’s troll-self a raging
case of PMS.  It slowed her down, but it sure didn’t make her happy.

Grace
cringed at Eugenia’s wrathful bellow.  This was
exactly
why spells
sucked.

“Grace!” 
Jamie fought his way up the hill and grabbed her arm.  “What happened?  Are you
alright?  What’s…?”

“Move!” 
She yelled and shoved him towards the armory.  It was the only place that
seemed even halfway safe.  The walls were made of solid stone.  “I accidently
turned Eugenia into a rampaging monster.”

Jamie
took the news better than most men would have.  “Holy
shit!
”  His head
whipped around to stare at Eugenia’s colossal form, trying to piece together
what had happened to the formerly blah-looking Sunday school teacher.  “Rivera Doomsday
Spell?”  He guessed after a beat.

“Troll
powder.”

He
shot Grace an amazed look.  “I can’t believe you once asked me if I was bored
around you, woman.”  He got the door to the armory opened and ushered her
inside.  “Okay.  So do you have a plan on how we deal with this?  Or shall we
just leave this accursed town to Shrek?”

“You’re
hilarious.”  Grace leaned against the heavy wooden door and looked around.

The
armory had circular walls, all of them covered in the town’s stockpile of
swords, muskets, and pistols.  A wooden staircase led to a loft, where the gunpowder
was kept in huge barrels.  Back in the twenty-first century, it was the only
spot in Harrisonburg that bored teenage boys enjoyed visiting.  Rewinding
two-hundred years into the past, it looked pretty much the same, except the
weapons were actually working, sharp, and/or dangerous.  Sadly, none of them
looked like they would make much of a dent in Eugenia’s green hide.

Grace
swallowed hard.  “Unless there’s a bazooka lying around in here, we still have
a big problem.”

“Why
is Eugenia Wentworth trying to kill us?”  Jamie demanded, trying to catch up. 
“I was only gone for ten minutes.  What the hell did I miss?”

“She’s
trying to kill
me
.  Not you.  She’s a lunatic stalker, who thinks you’re
her soulmate.  She’s been taking out the competition, one dance partner at a
time, and I’m next on the hit list.”

Jamie
blinked at that CliffsNotes version of the crazy.  “
Eugenia
is the
killer?  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Does
it
look
like the Jolly Green Giant is kidding around out there?”

“But
I never showed even a modicum of interest in that humorless girl!”  Jamie’s
eyebrows compressed, like he was looking for some kind of logic in the
horribly, tragically, completely illogical.  “Why would she kill her own sister
because of
me?
”

“She
didn’t do anything
because of you
.”  Grace corrected, not wanting him to
somehow blame himself for any of this.  “Eugenia killed her own sister because
she’s a sick, frigging nut-bag.  Don’t get caught up in her madness, Jamie.  My
professional diagnosis is she’s a narcissistic, sociopathic, bat-shit crazy
bitch.”

His
mouth gave a reluctant quirk.  “I’m always strangely comforted when you start
cursing.”

“You’re
welcome.  Now help me figure out a way to escape the big, huge, troll doll
outside.”  Grace tried to think.  How were they going to stop Eugenia from…?  Her
attention fell on the largest weapon in the armory.  Hang on.  Maybe there
was
something in 1789 that could cause some real damage.  “Jamie?  Tell me about
the cannons on your ship.”

He
followed her gaze and made a considering face.  “Well, they’re a lot like that
one, actually.”  He said in a far more optimistic tone.

“So
you can fire it?”

“I’m
a pirate, love.  What do you think?”

Clearly
melting-your-brain sex was just
one
of the many benefits of dating this
guy.  She arched a brow.  “I think we should blast Eugenia back to Middle Earth
and set sail Jamaica.”

“I
love the way your mind works.”  Jamie headed over to a stack of cannon balls,
which were the size of grapefruit.  “We need to get Eugenia in front of the
door and then her shoot right through the wood.  It’ll be far easier to aim, if
she’s closer.”

“Somehow
I don’t think it’s going to take a lot to lure her over here.”  In fact, Eugenia
was already trying to knock through the wall.  “Is setting off a canon in here
going to light the whole armory on fire?”

Jamie
mulled that over for a beat.  “Probably not.”  He finally decided.

“
Probably
not?”

“Well,
I doubt anyone’s ever tried it before, so I can’t say for certain.  I’ve yet to
set my ship ablaze, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It
really doesn’t.”  Grace shook her head, not sure whether to scream or laugh.  “For
real, this kind of stuff doesn’t happen to normal people, right?”

He
flashed her a swashbuckling grin.  “Nope.  Just to odd-ducks like you and me,
lass.”

“That’s
what I thought.”  Grace blew out a long breath and gave up even pretending she
was anything but a Rivera.  “Okay, then.”  She pointed towards the door,
flinching as Eugenia tried her best to knock the building down around them.  “Fire
when ready, Captain.”

June
28, 1789- Eugenia and I were just arguing, again.  Either the girl is
developing a sense of humor or she’s lost her mind!  You should have heard the
nonsense she was spouting!

From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth

The
cannon’s detonation was deafening.

Even
with her hands plastered over the sides of her head to muffle the noise, Grace
still felt like her eardrums ruptured when the blast went off.  The cannon
rolled backwards on its wheels, as a Newtonian response to the force of the
discharge.  The iron ball tore through the oak door of the armory, leaving a
massive hole in the wood.

Jamie
and Grace ducked their heads in unison to peer through it, gauging the success
of their plan.

Good
news: The cannonball struck Eugenia-the-Troll right on her broadside.

Better
news: It sent the lunatic rolling down the hill like a big, green log.

Best
News: The cannon firing didn’t send the whole armory sky high.

“It
worked!”  Grace smiled widely.  “I take back everything I said about you being
a lackluster pirate.  That was kind of awesome.”

“
Kind
of
awesome?  I just shot a troll with a cannon, lass.  I’m
amazingly
awesome.”  The force of the blast had bent the hinges of the door and Jamie used
his shoulder to force it open.  “Now that she’s wounded, we might actually have
a chance of surviving this damnable night.  …Unless the town tries to execute
us again.”

“I
don’t think anyone’s going to be in the mood to lynch us.”  Grace followed him
into the gathering darkness.  “Especially not you.  We can definitively prove
that you’re not the killer, now.  No matter what happens next, we’ve cleared
your name, once and for all.”

“Thrilling.” 
Jamie didn’t sound thrilled.  He sounded like he was ready to instigate some
mob justice of his own.  “Stay behind me, understand?”

The
cannonball hadn’t penetrated Eugenia’s magically-reinforced, troll-y skin, but
it did seem to knock some of the enchantment out of her.  However Troll Powder
worked, it didn’t seem to last long.  Especially not in the face of massive
projectiles.  The spell was already dissipating as they made their way down the
hill.  The green color was fading from Eugenia’s flesh, the normal-sized
features returning to her face.

“Witch!” 
Clara Vance bellowed again, pointing a finger at her.  “
You’ve
been the
one plaguing our town, Eugenia Wentworth! 
You’re
the witch!”

Clara
and a few of the braver (possibly stupider) townsfolk hadn’t fled at the first
sign of a monster attack.  Instead, they’d grabbing up shovels, sticks, and
anything else they could find in an effort to defend Harrisonburg.

Eugenia
staggered to her feet.  The black dress was in tatters around her shrunken body,
but she’d somehow managed to hang onto the knife.  Springing forward, she
seized hold of Clara, dragging her around to use her as a human shield.

Clara
let out a wail of panic.  “Help! 
Help!
”

“I’m
not the witch!”  Eugenia shrieked, all her crazy-fied attention on Jamie. 
“It’s
her!
”  She jerked her still-transforming chin at Grace.  “She cast
a spell on me!  She’s behind
all
of this.  Don’t you see?  She is just
another whore trying to get between us.  Just like Lucinda and Anabel and
Clara…”

“Me?” 
Clara scoffed, not knowing when to shut up.  “As if I’d ever allow a pirate to
court me.”

“Clara,
zip it before you get yourself dead.”  Grace warned.  “And Jamie, don’t get too
close to the armed maniac.”

He
shot her a quick look.  “She tried to kill you, Grace.  She not going to just
walk away from this.”

“She
won’t.  There are plenty of people around who see who she really is.  She’ll go
to jail and we’ll go to Jamaica and everything will be fine.”

Eugenia
clearly wasn’t ready to give herself up, though.  “You and I are supposed to be
together, Jamie.  That’s why I
had
to do this.  Our connection is too deep
to deny!  I know you feel that, too!”

“All
I feel for you is fucking disgust.”  He stalked towards her, patriot blue eyes
burning with fury.  “You just tried to murder my fiancée!”

“She
turned me into a troll!”  Eugenia shouted, moving backwards and dragging Clara
with her.  “You all saw it!  I’m
sure
you’re under some kind of a spell. 
That’s why you don’t feel our love.”

“I
donea feel any love for you, because
I donea love you
.  I love
Grace
.”

Eugenia
gave a sob that was part heartbreak and part rage at his refusal to drop to one
knee and propose.  “She’s turned you against me!”

“You
did that yourself!  Starting with the night you slaughtered poor Lucinda for no
goddamn reason, at all!”

“That
was probably her doing, too.”  Eugenia tried, gesturing to Grace again,
desperate to win Jamie to her side.  “I never would have killed Lucinda if that
witch hadn’t
made
me do it!  It was probably another spell.”

“It
was you being an evil, heartless lunatic.”  Jamie retorted.  “How could you do
that to your own sister?”

“Eugenia
killed Lucinda?”  Clara squeaked.  The blade at her neck still wasn’t doing
much to curb her hall-monitor tendencies.  “Well, wait until I tell my father! 
You can forget about teaching Sunday school next week, I can promise you that,
Eugenia Wentworth!”

“Clara,
shut up!
”  Grace repeated forcefully.

“I
knew you’d take Lucinda’s side!”  Eugenia gave up all pretense of being even
kinda sane and screeched at Jamie so loudly that spittle flew from her mouth.  “She
let you bed her, and had a pretty face, and that’s all that men need to fancy a
girl!  No one even looks at me, unless I
make
them!”  She kept moving
backwards.  “But, now
everyone
is looking at me.  Now everyone knows who
I am.  Now
I’m
the Wentworth sister that this whole blasted town will
remember.  Now I’m the one…”

Her
words ended abruptly as the heel of her practical shoe came down on a weird
metal framework laid out on the ground.  It took Grace a moment to realize it
was the launching pad for the fireworks.  The rockets poking out of it were
cruder than their modern counterparts and way, way bigger than the kind sold at
roadside tents during the summertime.

And
the long fuse on them was already lit.

Someone
must have started it burning before they fled from all the trolls and cannons
and hostage situations.  Grace knew very little about eighteenth century
fireworks, but she could take an educated guess that flame heading towards them
was a bad sign.

“Jamie.” 
Her fingers grabbed his sleeve, dragging him to a halt before he could get any
closer.  “Wait…”

Wheeeeerrrrrrrr!

The
high-pitched ignition of the rockets interrupted her.  The Independence Day
show was about to start on schedule, even though most of its audience had run
for their lives.  There was nothing they could do to stop it now.  Explosions
of brilliant orange began lighting up the sky as the fireworks launched.  Far
less sophisticated and colorful than the modern Harrisonburg 4
^th
of
July spectacular, but no less beautiful.  …And no less dangerous, if you got
too close.

Too
bad for Eugenia that she was standing right on top of them.

She
screamed as one of the rockets ignited beneath her, lighting her long dress on
fire.  The heavy cotton went up like a candle.  She went flailing backwards, trying
to escape, even as more rockets began to spark to life around her.  It was no
use.  Within seconds, Eugenia was completely engulfed in flames.  One rocket
after another slammed into her, glowing with white-hot phosphorescence.  No one
could’ve survived the onslaught.  Within seconds, it was over.

Grace
winced, looking away from the ghastly sight of Eugenia’s body.

Jamie
held up a palm to shield his eyes from the glare of the flames.

Meanwhile,
Clara threw herself forward, away from the fire.  She landed on the grass, clutching
at a wound on her neck.  Eugenia had left a shallow cut on her throat when she
fell.  It wasn’t life threatening, but it was seeping blood.  Clara wasn’t
exactly known for her calm demeanor, so of course she reacted like she’d just
lost a limb.

“Heeeeelp!” 
She screamed, crawling along the ground like the overacting victim in a cheap
horror film.  “
Heeeeeeeeeeeeelp me!
”  Her hand reached out to grab at
Grace, her fingers grasping her ankle.

Grace
tried to dodge out of the way, but it was too late.

Clara’s
blood touched her skin.

“No!” 
Grace bellowed, her grip automatically tightening on Jamie’s arm.  This couldn’t
happen!  She couldn’t go back to the twenty-first century!  Without Jamie, she
would have nothing and she had no idea how she could ever return to 1789 now
that Clara was sure to survive.  “Jamie!”

She
heard him curse and then the world was shifting around her.  Harrisonburg’s
town square fade and Grace was on the floor of the museum basement, again.  For
a second her heart stopped, panic filling her.  “
Jamie!
”  She screamed
again, frantically looking around for him.

“I’m
here.”  He said and waves of relief washed over her.  Jamie was splayed out
beside her and that meant everything would be okay.  “Are you alight?”

“Yeah.” 
She got out, struggling to get her heartrate under control.  For a second,
neither of them moved, just processing it all.  “I guess we solved the
murderers.”  She finally said.

“I
guess we did.”

“And
cleared your name.”

“Aye.”

She
swallowed, heartbroken that she was back in the modern world and far away from
the living version of Jamie.  They had been so close to their happily ever
after in Jamaica.  “But the rest of the plan didn’t exactly…”

“What
just happened?  Where did you go?”  Robert shrieked, cutting her off.  He was
standing over them with a baffled expression on his face.  “And who the hell is
that?
”

And
suddenly Grace realized that he could see Jamie.

She
blinked, trying to get her bearings.  Her fingers were still wrapped around
Jamie’s sleeve.  She was
touching
him.  Her eyes went flashing over to
the flesh and blood pirate beside her, joy rushing through her.  Just like
she’d been able to take the shawl back in time, she been able to pull Jamie
forward with her.
 Living
Jamie.  The Jamie with a three-dimensional
body and a heartbeat and all of the Jamies’ memories.  It didn’t matter that
she couldn’t get back to 1789, because Jamie was now in the twenty-first
century.

Triumph
lit beautiful face as he realized what had happened.  “I’m alive.”  He
whispered.

“You’re
alive.”  She agreed, choking back tears.  “Jamie, you’re
alive
and
you’re with me.  We really did it!”

“
You
did it.”  He corrected, his hand cupping her cheek.  “It was a hell of a plan,
love …Although we seem to have hit a slight bump there at the end.  I don’t
think we’re sailing off into the sunset on my ship.”

“No
kidding.”  She laughed in delight.  “That idiot Clara touched my leg with blood
on her hand and screwed up our honeymoon.”

“Well,
no harm done.  We’ll just be staying in your century.”  He gave her a quick
kiss.  “I’m a bit relieved, actually.  I’d have hated to miss
Haunted High’s
final season and I quite enjoy the look of you in less layers of clothes.”

“You
can’t be in here, whoever you are!”  Robert shouted at him angrily.  Until that
moment Grace had forgotten that he even existed.  “My girlfriend and I are
having a private conversation.  This is an employees’ only area.”

Grace
blinked, trying to orient herself again.  It seemed like a lifetime ago she’d
been battling Robert, but it had only been a few seconds in his time.  He was
still eager to continue their fight.  …Only now, the odds were slightly better
for her team.

Jamie’s
head swiveled around to look at Robert and his smile was all jagged teeth. 
“Well that’s convenient.”  He murmured to himself, getting to his feet as
gracefully as a shark surfacing from deep water.  “I donea even have to go
hunting for the bastard.”

Uh-oh.

Grace’s
eyes went wide.  “Jamie…”

“So
he’s
Jamie?”  Robert interrupted scornfully.  He smoothed down his hair,
as if that would help make the comparison between them less absurd.  “The one
you’ve been cheating on me with?”

“I’m
Jamie.”  Jamie told him calmly.  “The one who’s about to beat you to death.”

Grace
cringed as her fiancé knocked out three of her ex-boyfriend’s capped teeth.  Crap. 
If Jamie was arrested for assault and battery, the police would have a field day
at booking.  His only form of photo identification was a two-hundred and fifty
year old oil painting.  “Stop, Jamie!  You have no idea what a mess it would be
to explain who you are in court.”