Free Ghost Dancer (A Modern Magics Story) by Maer Wilson

 
    Ghost Dancer
     
    “I need you to save my dog,” said the young dead girl who had materialized in front of our desks. “I want to hire you to find him and save him. I can pay you,” she continued, looking from me to my husband, Thulu, her face serious in spite of her young age. No greeting, just straight to the problem at hand.
    She looked to be about ten years old, slender, with dark skin and black eyes that were exotic. She wore jeans with a glittery shirt and a pink jacket. Earbuds dangled around her neck and she trailed a scent of burnt rubber and roses. She looked familiar, and I realized I’d seen her face on the news lately. She and her dog had disappeared the week before. There was an Amber Alert out on her, but apparently none of the leads had panned out. I glanced over at Thulu, a sick feeling starting in my stomach. He had already focused on our guest.
    We’d been playing a game on our computers, but a client took precedence.
    “We’ll be happy to find out what happened to your dog,” I said. “But first, what’s your name?”
    “Danika Samms. You’re Thulu and La Fi, right?”
    “We are,” I replied as I looked over our young client.
    We dealt with the dead and supernatural all the time, but the dead kids always broke my heart. I steeled myself and found a shaky smile for the young girl.
    “Thulu can’t hear you, Danika, but he’s good at reading lips, so if you can face him that will be helpful.”
    “Cool,” she said as she turned to face Thulu with a sweet smile. “Everyone says you are the ones who will help find stuff. Well, my dog is kidnapped, and I know he’s still alive. I can pay, too. I had some money I was saving in a box under my bed.”
    “When did you last see your dog?” Thulu asked.
    “When that guy killed me.”
    I closed my eyes briefly. I really hated dealing with dead kids and murdered ones were even worse. I mourned the loss of their potential and what they could have accomplished. The pain they had endured brought a feeling of helplessness. I didn’t like that feeling one bit. Yet there was nothing I could do but treat it as business as usual and maintain a professional attitude. Inside though, my stomach churned with anxiety.
    Danika frowned. “That really makes me mad, you know?” She put one hand on her hip. “I’m a dancer. I was gonna be on TV and everything next month in that big talent contest. I’m real good, too, you know? I coulda won that contest.” Her voice wavered between disappointment and frustration.
    “I’m so sorry, Danika.” And I was.
    “Yeah, well that guy killed me and took my dog. And now I don’t get to be on TV.”
    I didn’t tell her she’d been all over the TV for the last week, along with pictures of her dog. I simply nodded my understanding.
    “Danika, are you certain your dog is still alive?” Thulu’s voice was soft, his brown eyes kind.
    She nodded her head. “I’m sure. That guy has him. And he’s pretending to be nice to him, but he’s hurting him. I just know he is. Can you save him?” Silvery tears sparkled in her eyes and my heart broke a little more.
    “I’m sure going to try, Danika. What’s his name?” answered Thulu.
    “Rudy.”
    “What kind of dog is he?” Thulu asked.
    “He’s just a mutt. We aren’t really sure what kinds, but he’s a good dog. Smart too. That guy will hurt him and Rudy don’t deserve that.”
    Thulu leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. I could feel him gather the energy that meant he was going into finding mode. Thulu was a finder. Anything or anyone that was lost, he could find.
    I smiled encouragingly at Danika and put a finger to my lips, even though Thulu couldn’t hear her. She nodded solemnly and hovered over one of the visitors’ chairs across from our desks, hands folded in her lap, legs swinging back and forth.
    We sat quietly and waited for Thulu. His face bore a faint frown as he concentrated. His brown, sun-streaked hair fell across his forehead