Angie Fox: My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding

Maybe I didn’t care so much what Pirate had found.

The dragon lowered his head, hope shining in his big, green eyes.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I grabbed hold of the nubby spikes on the beast’s neck and hoisted a leg over his back.

These two were going to be the death of me.

“Fly slow,” I said, as if I actually expected him to listen. “No clowning around.”

I’d barely settled in when Flappy took off like a shot. My stomach settled in somewhere around my knees as I held on for my life.

He bucked and thrust with every beat of his wings. It was like riding a spastic Tasmanian Devil. He was going to throw me. Flat onto the ground. I knew it.

He gave one last lurch, and I said a prayer of thanks when Flappy landed hard on the stone roof of the tower. I half slid, half fell off, my body shaking. I bent over, hands on my knees as I tried to recover.

“Great job, Flappy!” Pirate leapt past me, as the dragon snorted and whipped his head. He shoved his snout against my hip and I nearly fell over.

“Yes. Well done. You didn’t kill me.” This time.

I waited for my stomach to settle and my head to clear. I looked over the edge, trying to see where we were, but the trees were still too tall.

Funny. I turned, trying to figure out exactly where this place was. That’s when I realized this was no tower at all. It was an old observatory. I looked up to the blue sky then back down to the copper dome fastened to the center of the roof. It lay closed, bleeding green patina onto the stone, but I could see where it opened to the night sky.

There was a yawning trap door next to it that Pirate had obviously used. “Lead the way, Kemosabe.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Pirate scrambled down a set of spiraling wrought-iron stairs with me close behind.

The smell of old brick and dust assaulted me as we pounded down to a landing that housed a gorgeous bronze telescope. Holy tomatoes. Yes, it was dusty. And sure, it was old, but the thing was in perfect condition and still pointed at the sky. Or in this case, the copper dome above.

A sturdy iron crank was attached to the workings of the dome. I was tempted to try to open it, but with my luck, I wouldn’t get it closed again. It would be a shame to ruin such a fine instrument with rain or weather.

“That’s not what I came to show you,” Pirate said, still at the steps.

“Right.” I found it fascinating all the same.

Below the observatory floor, the tower consisted of a circular room with a staircase. We wound down two more levels. With every step, the air became more stuffy and warm.

The shadows lengthened, as the light from the upper windows grew scarcer. At last, we came to the ground floor with the door.

I stopped a few steps short of the bottom.

Hooded statues lined the walls, their robes, their fingers, carefully detailed. Except their faces were blank stone. Some of the statues gripped daggers. Others clutched bowls, which held the ashes of incense.

It was strangely silent inside. Everything was shrouded in shades of gray. Pirate breathed heavily next to me, and I could barely hear the birds outside.

In the center of the floor, was a thick stone medallion. Scrolled with…my breath caught in my throat…it looked like the dark mark.

“See?” Pirate said next to me. “It was on your hand. The devil’s mark. And now it’s here on the floor.”

Almost. Certainly too close for comfort.

“Let’s not panic,” I said to Pirate, and myself.

I glanced behind me. Habit. Before crouching to take a closer look. I ran my fingers over six identical swirls and in the middle of what looked to be a burst of fire.

The dark mark that had been etched into my skin had been emblazoned with three swirls. See? Different. I hoped. Also, these marks were not as tight. Each line on this mark ended with the curved, planetary symbol.

I traced my finger over one. “See this? It’s the symbol for Pluto, the planet of death and rebirth.”

“Pluto’s not a planet,” my dog said.

“It was when I was a kid,” I said, standing. “Certainly when this place was built.” I paused, trying to think of what it could mean. Pluto was also god of the underworld. It was also the symbol of hidden power and obsession. Transformation. Pirate followed the path of my fingers with his nose. “Don’t sniff it,” I murmured.

He jerked his head up. “Why? This is research.”

“Yes, but we don’t know what this is.” I touched the emerald at my neck. It was warm, yet strangely lifeless at my touch.

“We need to show Grandma.” And Dimitri, when he arrived tonight.

In the mean time, I took a few pictures with my phone.

Pirate sneezed every time my flash went off.

“Don’t mention this to anyone else,” I told him.

He nodded. “You know I don’t like to share our business.” He tilted his head. I could almost see the wheels spinning. “I’ll have Flappy stand guard.”

Right. “Because a dragon standing outside a tower isn’t at all suspicious.”

He didn’t get the irony.

Still, Flappy was the best we had. He was loyal, good at guarding things, and he wasn’t drinking my mom’s tea. All three were plusses in my book.

I tried to open the door on the ground floor level, but there was no way to unlock it from the inside.

“As soon as Grandma sobers up, we’ll get her out here,” I said as we climbed the stairs. Lord knew how we’d get her inside.

Pirate missed a step. “You mean she’s not watching her sandwiches?”

“Focus,” I told my dog.

Flappy managed to get us down from the tower, with my dog whooping the whole way. He was on cloud nine. I was less so as we headed back to the house.

I didn’t know what we’d found, but I didn’t like it. I needed things to be normal—well as normal as they could be—for one week. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

When we got back to the house, we found Sidecar Bob at the Steinway, belting out Only The Good Die Young like he was at a piano bar.

He’d slapped a few new stickers onto his wheelchair and had crammed a pint of Southern Comfort into the cup holder. His long gray hair stuck out in tufts from his ponytail.

“I thought boys didn’t come to tea parties,” I said, tugging on his ponytail.

“I crashed,” he said, grinning.

He had five cups lined up on the piano. I was glad to see at least one was filled with nickels, pennies, and quarters.

Meanwhile, my wedding tea party attendees had pushed the couches, chairs, and tables to the side of the room. Some witches were actually napping on them. Mom was dancing in a motley circle with at least a dozen Red Skulls. She’d taken off her shoes, wedding reception style, and was wearing Grandma’s yellow bow in her hair.

I stopped for a second. It was truly a sight to see. I couldn’t help but grin. If this was how my reception turned out, I’d be glad.

Or maybe I was just high on life after almost falling off a dragon. Twice.

I backed up toward Bob, who was blowing kisses at the end of his song.

“Hey,” I said, before he started in on another one, “have you guys warded for demons?”

He tisked. “It’s the first thing we do. Now go act like a bride. Have fun. You know what fun is, right?”

I gave him a saucy smile. “Yes, but Dimitri isn’t here yet.”

He responded with a cheery rendition of AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long.

Ah, well, it’s always good to have crazy musicians rooting for you.

In the meantime, Mom spotted me and waved for me to join in.

I walked on over and gave her a hug instead. She smelled like a case of champagne. “I’m beat,” I said into her ear, hoping she could hear me. “But thank you so much for the tea party with my friends. It was magic.” Literally.