Dangerous girls 2, p.1
Dangerous Girls 2, page 1
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Chapter 1
“All I’m saying…” Artemis rolled her eyes. “Is that this would be the perfect place to get murdered.”
“You scared?” I flashed her a teasing grin.
The red-headed witch scowled.
I chuckled and offered her my hand to help her step over the fallen log that obstructed the trail. I knew that would annoy her even more, and I was right. Artemis’ brown eyes flicked from me to the log before she leaped over the log like a deer and landed on the other side.
“Hah!” she crowed.
“Okay, jeez,” I said. “Don’t get so worked up about it.”
“Oh, hang on, what’s this…” Artemis rummaged in the pockets of her oversized black denim jacket and then threw her middle finger up at me.
The look of outrage on her face was so funny, and it was such an immature way to respond, that I burst out laughing.
Artemis grinned at me and strode on ahead through the trees. Her heavy black Doc Martens crunched in the fallen leaves that carpeted the forest floor, but the sound was muffled and far away.
I wasn’t about to admit it to Artemis, but the witch was right.
These woods were the perfect place to get murdered.
And not just because a few weeks ago we’d stood very near this spot and fought to stop David from opening the ley lines and putting the whole town in danger.
The ley lines were like a magical grid that laid over and under the ground. The lines themselves were pure magic, and they connected specific locations and areas to create a nexus of power. We still weren’t one hundred percent sure what would have happened if David had succeeded in his crazed plan to open the ley lines, but it wouldn’t have been good. The amount of power contained in the ley lines would have turned him inside out and brought even more attention to Wormwood.
The town was alive with magical energy, and even though we were trying to keep a low profile, new magical visitors kept popping up in Wormwood every day.
“Mike!” The mushroom girl turned around from where she stood further along the track by a silver birch tree. “Look!”
It had all started with her.
Wormwood was famous for having its own microclimate that was basically just rain, rain, and more rain. We were in Maine, after all, in a town in the suburbs a short drive out of Portland, but Wormwood took things to a whole new level. The night this all started, the town was hit by the biggest storm it had seen in decades. And something had awoken in the basement of my comic book store.
Not something, I corrected myself. Someone.
Her.
The mushroom girl.
She was bouncing up and down with excitement, and as I walked up the trail to reach her, she ran the last few steps, grabbed my hand, and pulled me over to see the tree.
“Look!” she cheered in her high-pitched, breathy voice.
At first, I couldn’t see what she was talking about. The mushroom girl gently tapped her finger on the tree trunk, and suddenly a piece of the bark moved.
It was a huge moth, the biggest one I’d ever seen. It must have measured almost a foot long from tip to tip, and its wings were a dark, mottled, black-brown color with surprising flashes of iridescent pink and purple.
“Whoa,” I commented. “That’s impressive.”
“It’s a black witch moth,” the mushroom girl breathed. “Ascalapha odorata.”
“Oh, shit, I know about those,” Artemis said as she looked over the mushroom girl’s head at the moth. “They’re, like, a really bad omen. And they’re not normally this huge. This one’s fucking enormous.”
“Oh, great,” I muttered. “An unnaturally enormous bad omen in the woods?”
“Maybe it’s so big because, like, magic?” Artemis shrugged her narrow shoulders.
“Could be,” I agreed. “Add it to the list of other weird shit in this town.”
“They’re beautiful,” the mushroom girl crooned.
She placed her hand flat on the tree trunk. The moth slowly crawled onto the back of her hand and perched on her knuckles. The mushroom girl lifted it to her face and examined it carefully with the biggest smile on her face. Her wide blue eyes sparkled, and her lips parted to show her front teeth.
She looked like a weird kind of Disney princess.
Hell, for all I knew, she could have been.
Ever since she’d come out of my basement wall, I’d been working hard to try and acclimatize her to the modern world while also getting to know her. One thing I’d learned early on was that she loved walking in the woods outside the town. It was why we’d come out here this afternoon. She was unhappy in the town, but it was amazing to see how she lit up as soon as she was surrounded by nature.
It was sometimes a struggle to get her to wear shoes when we were out here. It had rained the night before, and I’d very firmly said that I didn’t want muddy footprints in my car, so today at least, she was wearing the old pair of yellow rain boots I’d found for her in the clearance bin at Goodwill.
It was crazy that this magical, beautiful being could switch between seemingly limitless power and somehow not realizing that it wasn’t the best idea to go tramping through the woods in her bare feet.
All I knew about the mushroom girl was that she was very old, as old as the town of Wormwood itself, that she could tap into the ley lines both psychically and physically, that she seemed to know everything and the weight of all the knowledge in the world frequently scrambled her brain.
Oh, yeah, and she’d somehow absorbed David into her body.
We’d had a huge showdown with David in my comic book shop that had ended with the mushroom girl consuming David like a sponge soaking up water. And then she’d blessed both Artemis and me with some of the power she got from doing that.
Artemis was a witch, so she already had power, but the mushroom girl’s gift had boosted her magic to new heights. Her tarot readings had started getting eerily accurate, and she had a new affinity for plants and green things.
And me?
I was still figuring it out.
But something was undoubtedly different. It was like I was moving through the world in a cloud. My skin felt different, the world looked different, and the way my senses interpreted reality was different.
It was either like I’d been put into one of those huge Zorb balls and thrown off the edge of a cliff, or it was like my previous life had been spent inside a Zorb ball until something had popped it, and I was finally living in the real world.
Even if that didn’t make much sense.
Either way, I was excited to see what would happen next. And I had Artemis by my side to help me face whatever came my way.
The witch had been my high school crush, and although our lives had gone in different directions after high school, we’d both ended up back in Wormwood.
Artemis had her magic shop, I had my comic book and gaming shop, and together we were trying to figure out this ley line business and keep the mushroom girl safe from all the other people in the world who could sense the enormous amount of magical power she held.
It wasn’t the easiest task considering that the mushroom girl herself tended to forget exactly what a potent source of magic she was and exactly what she was capable of.
So much of her energy was spent in moments like this when she was just lost in marveling at the world around her. It was something special to see, and it had certainly changed the way I looked at things.
Whenever I saw the awe and wonder and delight in her lovely face, it was a reminder that even with everything else going on in the world, there were still precious moments to be found among all of it.
I glanced at Artemis. She was still watching the moth, but then her focus shifted to the mushroom girl herself, and the harshness in her face softened. Artemis would never admit it to me, and she might not even admit it to herself, but I thought maybe she was touched by the strange girl’s innocence as well.
The moth suddenly took off into the air. It fluttered around the mushroom girl’s silvery-brown hair, and she watched its movement with her soft, round mouth open in an “O” of delight. She raised her hand into the air, and the moth fluttered around her fingers one final time before it took off into the early evening sky.
“Goodbye,” the mushroom girl murmured.
She watched it go with her round shoulders slumped. Then she raised her head and looked around at the surrounding trees.
“Hot fuck!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “It’s getting late!”
Artemis let out a snort of startled laughter.
“Excuse me?” I chuckled.
“Is that not correct?” The mushroom girl looked between us with wide blue eyes.
“‘Hot fuck?’” Artemis repeated.
“Yes,” she replied. “Whenever I took a physical form in the past, it was not seemly for women to swear. Or men, I suppose… Gentlemen would certainly not. But that time seems to have passed, so now I think I would like to be a person who swears. Loudly .”
“Uh…” I shot Artemis a look of mingled amusement and concern.
The both of us tended to swear like truckers, but I wasn’t sure if that was the best influence to have on a person who was still coming to grips with the modern world.
“Oh, hell, what’s the harm in her swearing a bit?” Artemis shrugged. “She’s centuries older than the both of us.”
“I know,” I said, “but it feels… I don’t know.”
The mushroom girl gazed at me. Everything about her was soft and cute. She had a doll-like face with round cheeks, a little mouth, and huge eyes that peered out from underneath messy silvery-brown bangs. She was short, with a soft, plump figure. Her limbs were slender, her hips and bust were full, and her hands and feet were tiny.
She looked like a doll or a stuffed animal that had come to life. But then occasionally she would say things like “hot fuck,” or “did you know that female hyenas give birth through their clitoris?”
“I appear young and fertile,” the mushroom girl said with a nod. “So it feels improper for me to use foul language. I like that.”
“Oh, my god.” I spluttered out a laugh. “You can’t use phrases like ‘young and fertile,’ okay?”
“Ah.” The mushroom girl nodded again with a solemn look on her face. “You are correct, Mike. I appear ancient and barren.”
I snorted out a laugh again, and the mushroom girl clapped her hands and giggled mischievously. She pranced on down the trail, and Artemis followed her.
“Don’t go far!” I called after them.
“Alright, Grandpa,” Artemis said with a roll of her eyes.
“It’s not you that I’m worried about,” I said as I lengthened my stride to catch up with them.
“Okay, good.” Artemis pushed back her wild red curls. “Actually, hang on, that’s a point.”
“What is a point?” the mushroom girl asked.
“You,” Artemis said. “You don’t have a name. We don’t have a way to refer to you.”
“Do I need to be referred to?” She wrinkled her nose like the idea was an unpleasant one.
“Well…” Artemis shrugged. “It’s helpful, you know?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Just, please, not Sorry-For-Sin.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Artemis stared at her.
“That was one of my early names,” the mushroom girl said. “I didn’t like it, but it was what was given to me. And then, one year, I was called Karen-Marie. I didn’t like that one, either, but…”
“Wait,” I said as I realized something. “You’ve never chosen your own name, have you?”
The mushroom girl looked at me with an uncertain expression on her face.
“No?” she said like it was a question she didn’t want to get wrong.
“Oh, my god,” Artemis said. “Jeez, of course we’re not going to dump a name on you that you don’t like. You can choose whatever name you want.”
“Really?” The mushroom girl’s eyes widened. “I can do that?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said with a chuckle. “Plenty of people do that if they’ve been given a name they don’t like or don’t connect with.”
“I could call myself anything!” the mushroom girl gasped. “I could be called Twig! Or Frito-Lay! Or Linda! Liiiin-duuuuh.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I smothered another laugh. “Whatever you feel like.”
“Ooooh.” She wrapped her arms around herself and grinned in delight. “What shall I choose?”
“What about calling yourself after one of your favorite things?” I suggested. “Do you have a favorite color? Or a favorite flower?”
“There are so many favorite things,” she said. “I could never choose just one. Is Red-Blue-Green-Orange an acceptable name?”
“Ah.” I shook my head. “That might raise a few eyebrows.”
“What about Lavender-Roses-Majoram-Mugwort?” she persisted.
“Um…” I looked over at Artemis for some help.
“Those are a bit long,” Artemis said. “Names nowadays tend to be a bit shorter than that. Not like… what was it you said you were called again?”
“Karen-Marie?” the mushroom girl asked.
“The other one,” Artemis said.
“Oh, Sorry-For-Sin,” she replied.
“Yeah…” Artemis wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Let’s move away from names that sound like that.”
“Good idea,” I agreed. “I feel like a nature-themed name would still be a good choice, though.”
“I do enjoy nature,” the mushroom girl agreed. “And I grew from the earth, so it makes sense to honor my roots.”
She paused and giggled.
“Roots,” she whispered to herself.
“What about a mushroom-themed name?” I suggested. “After all, there were all those mushrooms in the basement, and when I had that vision of the ley lines, they seemed to be connected to those mushrooms, like they were an extension of the fungus.”
“Oh! Yes!” The mushroom girl’s face lit up. “There are so many options!”
“Great.” I smiled at how enthusiastic she was.
I pulled out my new phone to Google different mushroom names, but the signal was patchy out here in the woods, and my phone didn’t want to cooperate.
“I can’t believe this,” Artemis said, “but I might have been waiting my whole life for this moment.”
“Oh, yeah?” I grinned at her. “You’re secretly a mushroom expert, are you?”
“Well, actually, yeah.” Artemis grinned. “Okay, maybe not an expert, but… Well, there are two reasons. First off, I use mushrooms in my craft all the time so I have to know which ones I can put in my cocoa and which ones I should keep to poison my mortal enemies. And secondly– ”
“Wait, you put mushrooms in your cocoa?” I stared at her.
“Yeah, sure,” she said.
“Uh, okay.” I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the second reason?”
“Mushroom names are freakin’ hilarious,” she informed me.
“Okay…” I narrowed my eyes.
“Cramp Balls. Lawyer’s Wig. Slippery Jack. Terracotta Hedgehog.” Artemis counted them off on her fingers. “Common Stinkhorn. Hotlips Disco. Hairy Curtain Crust.”
“I’m sorry, no.” I held up my hand. “Hairy Curtain Crust is not a real name.”
“Look it up, Wainwright,” she challenged me with a grin. “I think you’ll find it’s a very real thing.”
“That is horrible,” I stated.
“I like Terracotta Hedgehog,” the mushroom girl mused.
I gave Artemis a pointed “look what you’ve done” stare.
She grinned back at me.
“What are some other names?” I asked.
The mushroom girl screwed up her face in concentration, but I hastily put my hand on her arm to stop her.
“Don’t try to search for it,” I said. “You don’t want to get overwhelmed or lost in all the information.”
“I do sometimes get lost in the information,” she said with a nod. “It is frustrating to know everything but to get lost in it all.”
“You can’t see the forest through the trees,” I said with a grin.
The mushroom girl gazed around at the woods with a puzzled look on her face. Then her face suddenly cleared, and she laughed.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “An idiom!”
“Yes,” I chuckled. “It’s an idiom. A figure of speech.”
“I still like the idea of a mushroom name.” She looked at Artemis. “Do you know any other names?”
“I’ll be honest, I did focus mostly on memorizing the weirdest and dirtiest names possible,” Artemis said with a grin. “But, yeah, let me think. Okay, there’s one called a Penny Bun, that’s very cute. There’s portobello, oyster, morel, button…”
“Button,” the mushroom girl said thoughtfully. “Butt-ton. Port-o-bell-oh.”
“Bolete,” Artemis continued. “Cep. Chanterelle.”
“Chanterelle,” the mushroom girl repeated and drew out the syllables. “Shaaan-trelllll.”
“Chanterelle?” I nodded. “That’s pretty.”
“Chanterelle.” The mushroom girl rolled the word around on her tongue, and her face broke into a delighted smile. “Chanterelle!”
“What do you think?” Artemis asked her. “Do we have a winner?”
“A winner!” She threw her arms into the air. “Chanterelle!”
