By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(70)

It didn’t.

“Well that was weird.” Yeah, I know. I had a real knack for understatement.

And what had it lobbed at me? I looked around. Small clawed feet stuck out from the sand. Ah, demon dicks, what kind of monster was this?

“Well, ain’t ye goin’ to help a matey?” a muffled voice called from beneath the sand.

“Pie?” I gripped the feet and tugged. One very dirty ghost pirate parrot emerged from the sand. I held him upside down so we were eye to eye.

Pie coughed and sputtered for a moment before, gritting out, “Aye. Guess it tweren’t me time after all, Mister Twig.”



“How about ‘Quinn, Mage of Destruction?’ That has a certain ominous ring to it,” I heard Bill say to Quinn as he reclined on a pile of pillows in my living room.

“Definitely not. No offence, Bill, but you really suck at this naming thing.”

“I don’t hear you coming up with anything better, wizard,” Bill grumbled.

“Pardon, Mister Bill, but Mister Quinn be right. He needs a name like Quinn ‘Blackheart’ Broomsparkle . . . Ye know, perhaps it be better to change your last name, Mister Quinn.”

“Yeah ‘Quinn Broomsparkle’ isn’t going to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies,” Bill added.

They had a point.

“Who says I’m going to have enemies . . .”

I tuned out their good-natured bickering. They’d been at it all day and it seemed like it was destined to be the new normal.

Being home felt both good and a little weird. We’d only been away for several days, but it seemed like a lot longer. And so much had changed. Including my new-and-improved resident’s permit I found on my table. Nothing like Starfig efficiency.

Once we arrived, I gathered up Quinn’s stuff and moved him into my bedroom. I gave Bill the spare room and Pie settled into a corner of the living room where I rigged a perch. I no sooner started cooking dinner when I heard the telltale pop of my father appearing in my living room.

Bill, Pie, and Quinn all squealed in surprise, but Bill managed to hit a range so high my eardrums rang. I snickered, then called over my shoulder, “Hey, that’s my dad. Please don’t eat him. He’s your best chance for getting a resident’s permit.”

“You could have warned me he was planning to show up,” Bill grumbled.

“I could have,” I agreed. Entering the room, I wiped my hands on a dishtowel. “Except this is much more fun.”

My father’s face was bright pink. Well, more a sickly shade of fuchsia really. Better than I thought it would be. This might not go as poorly as I feared.

“You”—my father pointed a finger in Bill’s direction, then whirled on Pie—“and you,” then turned his attention to me and fluttered his wings until he was able to wave a menacing finger in my face—“and most especially you! Do you like making me the laughingstock? Does it please you that my sons live to embarrass me?”

“Son.” Bill shuffled his feet. My dad turned his steely gaze back on him.

“What did you say, demon?” You’d think he’d be scared of a Red Fury. Nope. My dad was fearless when he was pissed.

Bill cleared his throat and didn’t look my father in the eye. “Uh, I said. Son. As in one. I, uh, well . . . wow, I didn’t think this would be so awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to me for help.

I sighed. Effing coward. “Nyx attacked Bill, then Bill ate him. So now he assumes you only have one son who’s an embarrassment.”

Color drained from my dad’s face. He lowered his head for a moment, closed his eyes. He suddenly looked much older than his twelve hundred or so years. Guilt gave my chest an unpleasant punch. Damn, I shouldn’t be so insensitive. Nyx was his son, after all. My father wasn’t completely unfeeling. It must be a shock at the very least.

“And I, uh, might have had a tiny bit to do with shoving Nyx into the pentagram with Bill.” When his eyes snapped open and his gaze settled on me, I knew this would be a longer conversation than I had hoped. Quinn brushed by as he slipped into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll watch dinner to make sure it doesn’t burn.”

Pie flew after Quinn. Cowards. Not that I blamed them.

I might have nodded, but I knew enough not to look away from my father when he was upset.

“Who’s Bill?” he gritted out, his little teeth resembling tiny daggers.

“I’m Bill,” a faint voice squeaked. Bill had gone almost as pale as my father.

Before my dad did something stupid like try to bite Bill’s knee, I rushed between them. “Now, Dad, Bill was provoked. He’s not the kind of de . . . guy to just willy-nilly eat someone. He’s usually vegetarian. Right, Bill?”

I sensed Bill nodding frantically behind me.

“He. Ate. Your. Brother.”

I didn’t quite have the guts to tell my dad I actually thought that was one of Bill’s finer qualities. “Yes, he did. But he saved my life. Nyx was trying to force Bill to tell him his name. His real name. You know what he would have done with a Red Fury under his control?” I shuddered. “Come on, Dad. You know Nyx wasn’t a good guy.”

“What’s a Red Fury doing in the Elder? You know demons aren’t allowed.”