Chaos Choreography
Page 87
Malena shrugged. “You do what you gotta do. Besides, it’s hard to run plumbing into a burrow, and this girl likes her showers.”
“I think someone did come and take their burrows away,” I said. We were almost to the hole in the fence, following the path Alice had shown me earlier. Dominic and Malena looked at me. I shook my head. “That sort of subterranean construction would have needed to be done before this area was so overbuilt—if not, it would have attracted a lot of attention. We know the ghouls moved to California before it became part of the United States. They were in this area when it was still a part of Mexico. So I ask again, why would they be living in houses?”
“They wouldn’t,” said Malena. “Not unless they had to.”
“Exactly,” I said, and ducked through the hole in the fence.
The cul-de-sac on the other side hadn’t changed: it was still run-down, still smaller and shabbier than the Burbank I was accustomed to. Dominic looked around without comment. Malena walked a little straighter, clearly more comfortable now that we were in a place where the shadows were not only allowed, but encouraged to gather.
The little girl was on the lawn again, her tea party set up in front of her with all the care and precision of a royal wedding. She looked up as we approached, tensing. I realized I was still wearing my wig. I was about to reach up and snatch it off when Malena smiled, showing a mouthful of inhumanly sharp teeth.
The little girl visibly relaxed before asking Malena a question in that same almost-French language she’d used when speaking to Alice.
“Sorry, pudding,” said Malena. She had a slight lisp now, no doubt brought on by the size of her teeth. “Spanish, I can do. English, I can do. French, I can’t do. Do we have any languages in common?”
“I speak French,” said Dominic. “That was not French.”
“It was Acadian,” said a male voice. I turned and found myself looking at a group of three male ghouls. There was no mistaking their species: not with their grayish skin and jagged teeth. All were fully grown, and taller than me. None of them looked pleased by our presence. “No one here speaks it, so it serves us well within the community. Keeps eavesdroppers at bay. There a reason you’re talking to our Aurelie? Last time I checked, it was considered socially inappropriate to talk to someone else’s children without their permission.”
My grandmother trusted these people enough to rent garage space from them. I took a breath, took a step forward, and said, “My name’s Verity. Alice Price is my grandmother. She’s renting space in your garage.”
Their spokesman frowned. “That didn’t so much answer my question as it danced around it in a big circle.”
I relaxed. “You know me.”
“The dancer? Yeah, we know you. She’s right proud of you, you know. Why are you here, and who are your friends?”
“Malena,” said Malena. “I’m a chupacabra.”
“Dominic,” said Dominic. “I’m . . .” He hesitated, clearly looking for a definition that wouldn’t send us plunging into deeper water. He finally settled for, “I’m married to the dancer.”
“I can vouch for him, and you know my grandmother can vouch for me,” I said. “Please, I need to talk to whoever’s in charge here. It could be a matter of life or death.”
“You got that right,” said another voice, again from behind us. This time, it was female. I risked a glance back. Three ghoul women had appeared on the lawn. One of them was holding Aurelie, who looked more annoyed about the disruption of her tea party than anything else.
It must have been nice to be young and unaware of the dangers of the world around you. I didn’t have that luxury anymore, if I ever really had. I looked back to the men, and said, “She’s missing. Alice is missing. She disappeared in the basement of the Crier Theater, where we were trying to catch the snake cult that’s been sacrificing my fellow dancers. I know we’re not welcome here, and I know we’re not friends of yours, but please. If you know anything about that place and what’s underneath it, we need to know. I need to get my grandmother back.”
The ghoul who had been speaking for the others blinked slowly, looking at me in confusion and disbelief. “Alice Price-Healy, missing? Are you sure?”
“She went into the basement to wait for the killers. She never came back out, and she wasn’t there when we went down to look for her.” I nodded. “Missing.”
The three ghouls looked at each other, confusion and concern struggling for control of their expressions. Whatever they were thinking, they weren’t making an effort to hide it, and I wished once again that Sarah were with us.
“I think someone did come and take their burrows away,” I said. We were almost to the hole in the fence, following the path Alice had shown me earlier. Dominic and Malena looked at me. I shook my head. “That sort of subterranean construction would have needed to be done before this area was so overbuilt—if not, it would have attracted a lot of attention. We know the ghouls moved to California before it became part of the United States. They were in this area when it was still a part of Mexico. So I ask again, why would they be living in houses?”
“They wouldn’t,” said Malena. “Not unless they had to.”
“Exactly,” I said, and ducked through the hole in the fence.
The cul-de-sac on the other side hadn’t changed: it was still run-down, still smaller and shabbier than the Burbank I was accustomed to. Dominic looked around without comment. Malena walked a little straighter, clearly more comfortable now that we were in a place where the shadows were not only allowed, but encouraged to gather.
The little girl was on the lawn again, her tea party set up in front of her with all the care and precision of a royal wedding. She looked up as we approached, tensing. I realized I was still wearing my wig. I was about to reach up and snatch it off when Malena smiled, showing a mouthful of inhumanly sharp teeth.
The little girl visibly relaxed before asking Malena a question in that same almost-French language she’d used when speaking to Alice.
“Sorry, pudding,” said Malena. She had a slight lisp now, no doubt brought on by the size of her teeth. “Spanish, I can do. English, I can do. French, I can’t do. Do we have any languages in common?”
“I speak French,” said Dominic. “That was not French.”
“It was Acadian,” said a male voice. I turned and found myself looking at a group of three male ghouls. There was no mistaking their species: not with their grayish skin and jagged teeth. All were fully grown, and taller than me. None of them looked pleased by our presence. “No one here speaks it, so it serves us well within the community. Keeps eavesdroppers at bay. There a reason you’re talking to our Aurelie? Last time I checked, it was considered socially inappropriate to talk to someone else’s children without their permission.”
My grandmother trusted these people enough to rent garage space from them. I took a breath, took a step forward, and said, “My name’s Verity. Alice Price is my grandmother. She’s renting space in your garage.”
Their spokesman frowned. “That didn’t so much answer my question as it danced around it in a big circle.”
I relaxed. “You know me.”
“The dancer? Yeah, we know you. She’s right proud of you, you know. Why are you here, and who are your friends?”
“Malena,” said Malena. “I’m a chupacabra.”
“Dominic,” said Dominic. “I’m . . .” He hesitated, clearly looking for a definition that wouldn’t send us plunging into deeper water. He finally settled for, “I’m married to the dancer.”
“I can vouch for him, and you know my grandmother can vouch for me,” I said. “Please, I need to talk to whoever’s in charge here. It could be a matter of life or death.”
“You got that right,” said another voice, again from behind us. This time, it was female. I risked a glance back. Three ghoul women had appeared on the lawn. One of them was holding Aurelie, who looked more annoyed about the disruption of her tea party than anything else.
It must have been nice to be young and unaware of the dangers of the world around you. I didn’t have that luxury anymore, if I ever really had. I looked back to the men, and said, “She’s missing. Alice is missing. She disappeared in the basement of the Crier Theater, where we were trying to catch the snake cult that’s been sacrificing my fellow dancers. I know we’re not welcome here, and I know we’re not friends of yours, but please. If you know anything about that place and what’s underneath it, we need to know. I need to get my grandmother back.”
The ghoul who had been speaking for the others blinked slowly, looking at me in confusion and disbelief. “Alice Price-Healy, missing? Are you sure?”
“She went into the basement to wait for the killers. She never came back out, and she wasn’t there when we went down to look for her.” I nodded. “Missing.”
The three ghouls looked at each other, confusion and concern struggling for control of their expressions. Whatever they were thinking, they weren’t making an effort to hide it, and I wished once again that Sarah were with us.
