they’re in the mall. It also has the desired effect of concealing all of the man-made items that they touch. Imagine how freaked out people would be if they could see a bag of potato chips flying along in the air, apparently unconnected to anything. Anyway, it doesn’t affect me, but when Loni came out with me once she went as sight-blind as a bat when it hit her.” Then she perked up. “Oh well, I guess if you can’t see them, then there’s no point trying to slay them. Tomorrow maybe? And in the meantime we could get back to concentrating on the dragon.”
“Jones, I told you, I don’t have the luxury of just ignoring what Kessler tells me to do. You might not care about doing this assignment, but I do.”
“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you got hit with glamour powder,” Emma retorted. “And unless you can see the fairies, there isn’t much point in being here.” For a moment Curtis was silent as he tightened his jaw. Then he muttered something under his breath before reluctantly digging around in his slaying kit.
“There might be one other way,” he finally said as he pulled out what looked like... some white-framed Ray-Ban Wayfarers? She watched as he took a deep breath and slipped them onto his face.
“Um, do you always wear sunglasses at the mall? Not to mention the fact that they look like they’re straight from the eighties. What’s going on?”
“They’re not sunglasses.” He slid them over his nose, and Emma was forced to marvel at how the ugliest pair of glasses in the world still managed to look okay on him.
“Really, because they sure look like sunglasses—and ugly ones at that,” she said, annoyed she’d even noticed how they looked on him.
He was silent, and for a moment Emma didn’t think he was going to answer her, but finally he shrugged. “Kessler gave them to me. They’ve got special lenses. For when I need to fight Unseens.”
“You need Unseen glasses?” she demanded, before narrowing her eyes and studying him as she thought of the giant dragons in question. Despite their name, they weren’t actually invisible, but they did have the chameleon-like talent of blending into the background. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“Gee, I must’ve forgotten to send you the memo,” he snapped in a sarcastic voice before letting out a sigh. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Plenty of dragon slayers need help with Unseens.”
“I don’t. I was tested last year and have perfect vision,” she retorted in a prim voice. Not that it really made a difference, since Curtis was right. There were plenty of dragon slayers who couldn’t pick out an Unseen dragon when it went into camouflage mode at nighttime. Her mom had been one of them, though instead of using an ugly pair of sunglasses, she had relied on some special binoculars. But still, it was interesting that Perfect Mr. Dragon Slayer wasn’t so perfect after all.
“Aren’t you the lucky one,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness, which if you asked her was overdramatic since it wasn’t like dragon slayers came across Unseens very often. “Anyway, I just wondered if they would help me see the fairies. Despite the glamour powder.” Then he craned his neck toward the roof, and over the top of the frames she could clearly see him raise an eyebrow. It looked like the ugly sunglasses were working.
“Wow, they really are little. Oh, but no pointy ears?”
“Shhh,” Emma warned him. “Don’t let them hear you say that. Or anything about their height. They have a Napoleon complex like you wouldn’t believe. Once Professor Vanderbilt was out grading me on my tracking techniques, and all he did was mention a Danny DeVito movie he’d watched and you should’ve seen all the bite marks he ended up with.”
“Got it. So what now?” he asked as he continued to write in the folder.
“I guess it’s time to join me in some ritual humiliation,” she said, just as another fairy flew in through the open door. As it got closer, it turned away from them and tugged at its tiny pants until they fell away to reveal a small white butt.
“Did that thing just moon me?” Curtis demanded as he readjusted the glasses as if checking to see if they were working correctly.
“Trust me, that’s the least of what they do,” Emma retorted as she flipped open her slaying bag and pulled out two packets of Skittles. She