Part 10 (1/2)
”Cherubs,” he muttered, trying to look as though he hadn't been about to lift his tail.
Claire reached out and poked him lightly with her foot. ”Come on. We'll start at the back and work our way forward.”
When Diana turned to face the cash desk again, the heavily-mascaraed teenager standing behind it was watching her in some confusion.
”Who was she talking to?” she asked, gesturing in the general direction Claire had taken. ”If somebody sprays those angels they're, like, going to have to pay for them, you know.”
Closing the distance between them, Diana smiled at her. ”Please, don't worry about it.”
”Okay.” She nodded slowly, looking slightly stoned and remarkably happy. Looking, as it happened, very much like she was never going to worry about anything ever again.
”Oops.” Apparently, her power problems hadn't been solved by moving off reserve status. Reaching out carefully, Diana tweaked things, just a little, and was relieved to see a frown line reappear.
”If you're looking for something, I can't, like, leave the cash desk, so you'll have to find it yourself.”
”Not a problem.” There were a dozen tubs, boxes, and spinners of impulse kitsch nearly covering the gla.s.s counter. If customers actually wanted to buy an item larger than a foot square, they were out of luck. Problem was, in a dozen containers of a.s.sorted bits and pieces, the thing she sensed could be ...
In the tub of magic wands.
”You've got to be kidding me.”
The clerk blinked and focused. Lips almost as pale as the surrounding skin twitched. ”Kids love these.”
”I'm sure.” Especially if they get one that actually works.
The wands were about eight inches long; a hollow tube of clear Lucite partially filled with a metallic or neon sparkling gel and topped with a plastic star the same color. The fourth one Diana pulled from the tub jerked in her hand, rearranging a display of 'flower of the month' tea cups into a significantly larger porcelain cherub. She was beginning to understand why Sam disliked the things. A quick flick of the wand changed it back.
”What was that?” the clerk demanded, whirling around toward the sound of metal ringing against china.
”Falling halo,” Diana told her, continuing to pull wands out of the tub.
”What?”
”Forget about it. Specifically, about it,” she added hurriedly, heading off inadvertent amnesia.
”Forget about what?”
Nothing like a cliche to measure effectiveness. ”Exactly.”
The remainder of the wands were no more than they appeared.
”I'll take this one.”
”Whatever. That'll be twelve ninety-five. Plus tax.”
”Fourteen ninety-four.” Diana complained, showing Claire the wand. ”For a piece of plastic c.r.a.p.”
Claire stepped aside so that the neon pink star no longer pointed directly at her, she'd seen what had happened to the cups and had no wish to suddenly acquire a useless pair of wings and a winsomely blank expression. ”Not a bad price for a working wand, though.”
”And the plastic c.r.a.p was on sale for five dollars,” Sam added. ”There was a whole box of it at the back of the store.”