Page 56 of Grave Humor

I turned on my gravestone to discover Eoghan and Gordon approaching, and both men looked rather miffed. “You found Eoghan!”

“That wasn’t difficult, although your dog ran off. I knew where he was the whole time. We can find your dog later. He’s rather swift.”

“Well, he’s a stray. He’s collared and my number is on it, so if someone picks him up, they’ll call me or just bring him to the house. It’ll be fine. I’ll just put food out for him and hope he comes back for his supper. He might just have been scared off by the undead. I’ll have to admit, I thought about running for a few moments, but then I was told this spot was safe, and so I stayed put. It’s been safe so far, so I’m pretty all right with this. I can’t buy this sort of entertainment, and I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

Eoghan sighed. “You cannot stay out of trouble, can you?”

“It seems not. I hope you can tolerate his screaming. I’d say I’m sorry he’s screaming, but the jackass deserves it, so I’m not sorry at all.”

“Angelic justice is a brutal thing. Remind me not to stir your ire. You do not play around. I can tolerate these screams. They are earned. Someone brought Lady Luck back to your home along with your things. Cecily asked me to call her as soon as you’re found, although I think we shall wait until our angelic company departs.”

“Why would I depart? I live here.” Azrael pointed at the entrance to the catacombs. “I will take up stewardship of the Book of Life in the meantime.”

Right. The book. I held it out to Eoghan. “I thought this might be in your language, so I wanted to show it to you when I found it.”

Eoghan’s expression turned neutral, and he took the book from me, and like Azrael, he stroked his fingers across the cover. “Yes, this is written in my native language. I know this book well.”

“That you do,” Azrael agreed. “You’ve changed little since I last saw you. You are called Eoghan in this age?”

“So it seems.”

Azrael said something in a different language, his words almost musical in how he spoke them, each intonation sliding into the other with a dancer’s grace. Eoghan listened, he smiled, and he answered.

I’d been right. Having someone speak to Eoghan in his own language mattered, and I turned to Gordon. “How did he handle news I’d gotten clobbered on the head and dragged off?”

“As we were unaware you’d been clobbered on the head and only aware you’d been dragged off, better than he would have reacted had he known you’d been clobbered on the head before being dragged off. He was quite displeased.”

“Can you clarify that for me?”

“He’s probably debating if he wants to wade into that mass of undead and add to the screaming.”

Great. I’d have to figure out how to cool his temper. “Well, I’m mostly fine. I’ll be totally fine once this headache goes away.”

“I wish you the best of luck convincing him of that. He is also rather displeased he could not come riding to your rescue as is proper. He wanted a horse for this purpose.”

I thought about that, as I’d never been able to afford a horse and liked them. “Can he put that idea on hold? I like horses.”

Gordon chuckled. “He was rather displeased to discover your back yard was not sized for a horse. We had been discussing that before we received word you had been kidnapped. I’m sure he would not be bothered by planning such a thing should you enjoy it.”

Hell yeah, I’d enjoy it. “I’m enjoying those vengeful dead scuffing Director Hammel’s shoes, too.”

The angel and Eoghan continued to speak, and the pair ignored the mayhem on the other side of the graveyard. Director Hammel lost his shoe to one of the undead, and they tossed it around in a demented game which resembled a mix of soccer and football. Gordon observed the chaos, and he raised a brow. “That’s quite a lively gathering involving such a high number of corpses. Did he raise the entire graveyard?”

“I think so, and Azrael said he had asked mischievous souls to handle the work.”

Director Hammel lost his other shoe, and one of the skeletons ran off with it, crouched, and chewed on it. Another joined in, and they tugged on it with such enthusiasm it broke in half.

His socks went next, and when the skeletal fingers went to work on his pants, Director Hammel dove off the gravestone and ran like the devil had taken chase. He broke through the throng of skeletons and collided with the green and gold barrier surrounding the cemetery.

Azrael turned, stretched his wings, and spoke a word. The undead halted, turned, and marched away from the beleaguered man. One by one, they returned to their graves, and the dirt settled over them. When the last of the bodies settled into the ground, the angel spoke another word, and green light washed over the ground, restoring the grass and flowers.

“It is finished,” Azrael announced, and he vanished.

The barrier encasing the cemetery came down, and Director Hammel fled into the night.

Thirteen

Can I kill them?