The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [21]
“Maybe he’s just a snot,” I said. “Like Tiffany. What did you think of Talismans today? Who knew there were so many kinds of magic pins?”
At the Mansion, Danskin led us to an empty booth under a murky picture of dwarfs bowling. Since I was soaking wet, I took off my black coat and spread it over the back of my chair to dry before I sat down.
“Groovy threads, Neefer-girl,” Stonewall said approvingly. “Highwayman, with a side of dandy.”
Danskin winked at me. “He wants it for himself, you know. Tell him he can’t have it.”
“Of course he can’t. My fairy godfather would kill me.”
Stonewall sighed theatrically. “Bummer. A ruffled shirt, a pair of breeches, some silver-buckled shoes, and I’d be the grooviest Headless Horseman in the history of Miss Van Loon’s.”
“Hello?” Fortran was scornful. “You’ve got a head? There’s a rule about wearing glamours to school.”
“Three-oh-five,” Mukuti quoted helpfully. “Students must not wear glamours or alter their appearance magically.”
Danskin looked thoughtful. “How about a black burlap bag with a hat on top?”
“I want them to die screaming, not laughing,” Stonewall said.
I gave up trying to deduce what was going on. “What are you guys talking about?”
Espresso’s green eyes went round. “Hallowe’en, man. You dig? Costume competition, haunted house?” I shook my head. “How about trick or treat?”
“There aren’t any treats on Hallowe’en where I come from,” I said shortly. “In the Park, the ghosts get solid and the ghouls get frisky. You don’t even want to know what the Hunt does.”
“Sure I do.”
“Shut up, Fortran.” Stonewall turned to me. “So what do you do?”
“Astris invites some friends in and we tell stories.”
“Boring,” Fortran said, then winced. “Ow, Espresso, that hurt! I’m sorry, Neef, but it doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.”
“It’s not supposed to be fun,” I said. “It’s supposed to be comforting.”
Espresso’s face took on her poetry-reciting look. “ ‘From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, good spirits deliver us.’ ”
“At Miss Van Loon’s,” Stonewall said, “we have a different philosophy. Hallowe’en is the bash of the year. We stay up all night and there’s a day off afterward.”
“And that helps how?” I asked.
“Well, Folk hate being laughed at. We wear scary costumes and eat too much sugar and play games and scream a lot, but it’s all a big joke. And the Folk know it, too.”
Danskin laughed. “Either that, or they’re more scared of us than we are of them.”
“We don’t bother with any of that at Columbia University,” Fortran announced. “We’re too sophisticated.” Everybody looked at him. “Okay, we do costumes. But only because it’s fun. I always have the best costume. This year, I’m going to be a monkey warrior.” He paused. “Or maybe an evil wizard. I haven’t decided yet.”
Mukuti bounced happily. “Last year I was a demon, with big tusks and everything. Nobody even knew it was me.”
“And that’s Hallowe’en?” I asked. “A bunch of kids running around dressed up like Folk?”
“Scary Folk,” Danskin reminded me. “And there are special rituals. Tricks and games and stuff. The Big Book of Rules takes a real beating sometimes.”
Light dawned. “I get it!” I said. “Hallowe’en is for getting even. Did you guys challenge anyone?”
Everybody got very quiet. I looked around the ring of startled faces. “No challenges? But Tiffany said . . . ”
“Tiffany?” Danskin asked blankly.
“Yeah. She challenged me to summon Bloody Mary with her. At Hallowe’en. In the girls’ bathroom.”
Espresso laughed doubtfully. “You’re busting our chops, right?”
“No-o.”
Stonewall said, “You seem awfully calm about this. Do you actually know who you’re dealing with?”
“I’m not calm. I’m mad. And I already know Tiffany’s evil.”
“Not Tiffany,” Danskin said seriously. “The other one.”
I wasn’t about to admit there was a supernatural somewhere I’d never heard of. “What’s to know? She’s called Mary and she’s all bloody. Standard-issue bogeywoman. No biggie.”
Espresso shook her head. “Either you’re the Girl Who Didn’t Know What Fear