How to Break an Evil Curse

by Laura Morrison

  Julianna listened with displeasure. The guys who were in charge of containing the land’s worst criminals seemed kind of incompetent. She would have said something to Murray about it, but her fake guy voice was pretty awful, and she didn’t want to speak with it unless she had to.

  “Hop on up,” Copernicus said then to Murray. “We can chat as we drive.”

  “Thanks,” Murry said and hopped onto the seat beside Copernicus. “So you three are going into the Forest?”

  “Yep,” said Copernicus.

  “Dangerous business, lads.”

  “We know.”

  “You may die.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Even if you survive, you’ll have a tough time getting out again. Even if you come out my way again, I can’t guarantee I’ll recognize you.” There were no photo IDs or other surefire ways of identifying people in Fritillary. The guards hated the headache of trying to ascertain whether the beaten and bloodied people leaving the Forest were really the neat and tidy visitors they’d let in, or whether they were criminals with stolen visitor passes.

  “Is that an oblique request for a bribe?” asked Copernicus.

  “Nope. It’s the truth. People get beat up in there; they get messy. You very well may look unrecognizable coming out of the Forest. However, on the subject of bribes, I do definitely accept them. Pay up and we’ll let you in without any trouble. Pay a bit more and we can send you in with a sack lunch.”

  “Hmm. How much for a bribe and three sack lunches?” asked Warren. Julianna needed to find a dark hiding place fairly soon, so they couldn’t waste time haggling. Plus, every minute his sister was imprisoned was one minute too long.

  “Three bribes and three sack lunches, you mean. One bribe for each of you,” Murray said apologetically. They reached the edge of the Forest and halted by Clive, who was waiting expectantly to see what was going on. Clive had been joined by two other guards, one from the guard station to their left, and one from the guard station to their right.

  “Could we work out a package deal?” Copernicus asked.

  “What do you think, Clive?” Murray asked. “Can we give them a three-for-the-price-of-two?”

  “Eh, sure, what the heck,” Clive said. “But they pay for all three lunches.” There were murmurs and nods of agreement from the other guards.

  “You lads know your odds of getting out of there alive are about 50/50, right?” asked one of the guards, an old guy with a long, matted beard.

  “Unfortunately, we’ve got no choice,” Warren said. “Or at least, I have no choice.” Which reminded him that this was the part of the journey where he was obligated to ask his companions whether they wanted to change their minds about going into the Forest. He looked at Julianna and Copernicus. “You guys know you don’t have to come with me, right? No hard feelings if you’re having second thoughts.” He held his breath then, hoping like crazy that they wouldn’t chicken out.

  “I’m going with you,” Copernicus said. He was too starstruck about Corrine, and too excited at the thought of being part of her rescue party, to even contemplate not going. “You need me; I have a brother and some cousins and friends in there.”

  “I’m in,” Julianna said shortly.

  “Oh good,” Warren sighed with relief. “Because that place looks scary.” He glanced into the dark trees and wondered how many criminals were at this very moment watching and listening to them.

  * * *

  32No one in The Forest trusted anyone much since about ten percent of the prisoner population was really spies planted there by the army in order to watch out for uprisings and deal with them before they became a problem.

  33Though of course they didn’t call it Telephone. They called it Pass the Phrase Along and See How Messed Up It Gets.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Julianna paid up for two bribes and three sack lunches, and the old guard with the matted beard scampered off to get the lunches from their HQ. Initially, our heroes hadn’t wanted to waste time waiting for their lunches to be brought to them, but the guards had told them there was some essential information they needed to impart to them.

  “Where are you headed in there?” asked Murray as they waited.

  “Our end goal is the cave where Mirabella the Traitor lives,” said Warren.

  “Whoa!” Clive said, then gave a low whistle. “She’s one of our most famous prisoners! How’d you get mixed up with her?”

  “Again,” Copernicus said, “I must say we’d rather keep that information to ourselves.”

  “Sure. If she’s involved, I probably don’t want to know the particulars anyway,” Clive said. “You know how to find her?”

  “Nope. Could you point us in the right direction?”

  “Well we’ve never actually been in there, but I believe it’s pretty much in the center of the Forest. Right?” He looked at Murray for confirmation.

  “Yeah. I think so. You said you had family in the Forest?” Murray then asked Copernicus.

  “Yup. My brother Phil. Phil Barton. And some cousins and friends.”

  Murray made the three travelers jump when, without warning, he barked into the trees, “Hey! Art! You in there?” He then squinted into the shades of the Forest, waiting. Everyone else stared in the same general direction. Murray explained, “There’s always someone hiding in there spying on us. This time of night it’s usually Art.”

  After a few moments, a scrawny guy with filthy clothes ambled out from behind a big tree trunk and said with annoyance, “Yeah, what you want?”

  “These guys are looking for a Phil Barton. You know him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh, of course,” Murray said. “Money.” He looked at Julianna, since she was the one who’d paid the bribe. “Have any money for him?”

  She nodded and reached into her bag, then pulled out a silver coin and showed it to Art, whose eyes widened in amazement.

  “You bring Phil back here and you can have it,” Copernicus said. “Do it fast and you can have more.”

  Art scampered off without a word.

  Clive turned to them then, and said, “You guys have a lot of money? That’s the number one most important thing for going into the Forest. The best advice I can give you is to have tons of money.”

  “I think we’re pretty well prepared in that regard,” Warren said cautiously, not wanting to admit to having tons of money and fancy jewelry.

  “Good. That’ll be helpful. Most of the guys in there have come to the realization that if they kill a visitor and take all his money, that will just make them a huge target for all the other prisoners. As long as you have enough money to appease anyone who crosses paths with you, you might manage all right. You’ll get attacked plenty, but not killed as long as you pay them off.”

  Warren tried to appear brave as he asked, “Any other concerns?”

  “The crazy prisoners are a bit of a problem. They’ll attack you for nothing. And there’s gang stuff. You’re going to need a guide in there, and the prisoners are all in some gang or other, so you’ll probably end up in a few fights with your guide’s rival gangs.” He looked at Murray. “Anything else?”

  “Just stumbling into traps and getting lost. But, if you have a good guide, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

  At this point, the old guard came trotting back with three sack lunches. “Here you lads go.”

  “Great. Thanks,” Warren said and grabbed the lunches and some visitor passes from the old guard with the matted beard. “And thanks for the advice.”

  “No problem,” said Clive. “Best of luck in there.”

  “Can we leave the wagon here?” asked Copernicus. “I’ve got some supplies I wanted to leave with my relatives.”

  “Sure thing. Take care of your business in there, and then if you manage to come out alive, we
’ll help you get the supplies dispersed,” said Murray.

  A few minutes later, Art appeared with a guy who must be Phil, because the guy’s eyes lit up and he cried, “Copper! What are you doing here?”

  Copernicus looked at the ground. “We can explain as we walk.”

  Art extended his hand expectantly, and Julianna gave him the silver coin and another smaller one, muttering a quick thank you. Art grabbed the money and disappeared into the trees without a word.

  They watched him go and then, without further ado, the travelers squashed down their fears and stepped into the Forest of Looming Death.

  The guards watched them until they disappeared into the black shadows. “Should we have told that lady how bad her disguise was?” Murray asked with concern as he turned to poke at the fire.

  “Naw, they’ll probably figure it out soon enough. If we told them, they’d just fret,” Clive said with a wave of his hand as he sat down in one of the folding chairs and pulled his bird ID book out of his pocket, starting to read by the light of the fire.

  The first order of business was, of course, telling Phil that they needed a place where no sunlight could get in. Sunrise was only an hour off.

  Phil was, of course, curious about this, but Copernicus just told him not to ask questions.

  Phil, who also seemed a little confused about his brother’s cold behavior, didn’t push the issue, and merely said, “Well my gang’s got a lot of traps dug in the ground. We cover them up with branches and leaves and stuff. It’ll be pretty dark under them. Especially since the forest canopy is already blocking so much sunlight.”

  Copernicus looked questioningly at Julianna. She nodded, and he said to Phil, “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

  Warren looked from Copper to Phil. There was a thick cloud of awkwardness hovering around the two brothers. Obviously, there was some unresolved issue between them. Warren cleared his throat and said, “So, um, Phil?”

  “Yeah?” Phil asked, looking back at Warren.

  “Can you take us to the cave where Mirabella the Traitor lives?”

  Phil raised his eyebrows, looking every bit as impressed as Clive had been. “Yeah I can take you there. But there’s no way I’m going near that lady.” Then he asked Copernicus, “How’d you get mixed up with Mirabella?”

  “I didn’t,” Copernicus said. “They did. I’m just helping them out.”

  “Then how’d you guys get mixed up with her?” Phil asked, directing his question toward Warren since the lady disguised badly as a guy didn’t seem too inclined to speak.

  “I’m not too sure, actually,” Warren said. “My sister got kidnapped by an evil wizard, and he apparently brought her to Mirabella’s cave. No idea why. The wizard and Mirabella must be pals.”

  Warren kept Phil engaged in small talk for a while because he didn’t like the uncomfortable cloud that descended on them when everything was quiet; the air was thick with things that the brothers wanted to say to each other but were keeping bottled up.

  After about a half hour, just when Julianna was starting to get pretty anxious about sunrise, Phil informed them that they’d reached the pit in the ground where she was going to be spending the day. “Careful there. Don’t walk past that big branch or you’ll fall right in,” he warned.

  They all looked at the ground with amazement. They couldn’t see anything; it looked just like the ground all around it.

  “You ready to go down there?” Phil asked Julianna.

  She muttered, “Just a minute.” She reached into her bag and gave Warren her money, since he would likely need it more than her. Then she whispered to him, “What are your plans while I’m down there?”

  “Just spy a bit at the cave and see if I can manage to formulate a plan once I’ve actually seen the place. After that, I plan to sleep if I can. Then once the sun sets, we rescue Corrine. I don’t know how we’ll do it yet, but by tonight I’ll have an idea.”

  She nodded. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. We’ll make sure one of us is always watching your hiding place through the day.” He gave her a weak smile; he was feeling nervous and didn’t like the idea of being separated from her in this forest. “Watch my banjo for me?”

  She nodded again, and whispered, “It’ll all turn out fine. Don’t worry.” She didn’t know if she really believed that, but she felt it was the right thing to say, even though he probably didn’t believe it either. Then she took the banjo and signaled to Phil that she was ready to hide. He moved aside a few branches, revealing a dark hole in the ground. Then he went to a nearby tree, reached into a hole near its base, and pulled out a rope which he then tossed over the edge of the pit.

  “It’s not too deep, but you’ll definitely need the rope,” he explained to Julianna. Wordlessly, she climbed down, hoping that this would be the last time on this journey that circumstances would necessitate her going into a creepy, dark space. If she’d known when she’d ventured out of her tunnel for the first time that she’d end up in just a few days’ time hiding in a hole in the ground in a forest full of murderers, and would soon be helping someone rescue his sister from Farland and her aunt Mirabella, she might very well have just stayed put in the castle. Maybe.

  “So,” Julianna whispered to Dexter. “What do you think of all this?” She pulled out her thick blanket to hide under just in case sunlight did seep through the top of the trap.

  “Oh, I see you’re talking to me now?” he huffed.

  She sighed, “You know I can’t talk to you around living people.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just been so stressful seeing you do so much dangerous stuff and not be able to talk to you about it.”

  “Well, talk to me now,” she said as she gingerly felt around in the dirt for a place that felt safe to sit down. “I’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the day, and I’m not tired yet.”

  As they chatted, she got out Mortimer’s silver box with the orange star and ran her fingers over it as she daydreamed about its owner.

  Copernicus was more than happy to stay back and hang out by Julianna’s hiding place, because that meant he didn’t have to be near his brother. He’d been afraid seeing Phil again would be awkward, and his worst fears had been exceeded, mostly thanks to his own unease. But what else can you expect when, after a decade, you come face-to-face with the brother who has taken the blame (and been imprisoned) for a crime you were accused of?

  Yes, back when Copernicus was just a little thirteen-year-old thug-in-training, one of his rivals had framed him for murder. Phil had found out, and had done the brotherly thing: he had said he, Phil, had committed the crime, his rationale being that Copernicus had dreams of becoming a great writer, while he himself had no dreams at all to speak of, except his aspiration to pick twenty pockets in a single night. At the trial, he had pulled a tearful Copernicus aside before being hauled off to the Forest of Looming Death and had given him a very moving speech about how Copernicus had to follow his dreams and become the brother who made something of himself.

  Afterwards, Copernicus had been super inspired for about a week, but then he had run out of money for paper and quills and ink, and he’d fallen back on making money the only way he knew how—crime. He told himself that staying submerged in the life o’ crime was good research for his true crime novels he intended to write, but eventually he got so busy with work that he found himself writing less and less until one day it hit him that he hadn’t picked up a quill for two months straight.

  And now that he was in the Forest with Phil, Phil was sooner or later going to ask about how the writing was going. And Copernicus was going to have to break it to Phil that he’d sacrificed his freedom for jack squat.

  Copernicus leaned dejectedly against a tree and sighed, then did what he usually did when he was feeling blue: pulled out his book of poetry.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Phil and War
ren had been walking about twenty minutes before they got attacked the first time. Warren was pushing aside a big fern that was in his way, when a guy jumped down from a tree branch above his head and punched him in the nose before Warren even had a chance to react. Warren stumbled back a few paces, cursing. How were his dreams of being an actor ever going to be realized if some ruffian damaged his face? Dudes didn’t get lead roles unless their faces were symmetrical. Secondarily, he was also mad because the punch had hurt like crazy. Warren tasted blood in his mouth. “Not cool!” he yelled and dodged away just in time to miss an elbow to the throat. He backed up a few more paces to buy himself some time to feel his nose; yes, it seemed as symmetrical as ever.

  To his left, he caught a glimpse of Phil knocking a second ruffian to the ground with a solid kick to the stomach. Phil, at least, seemed to know what he was doing; all Warren knew about fighting was stage fighting with cardboard swords and choreographed punches and dodges.

  Warren was just psyching himself up to try a bit of real fighting (and wishing he’d taken Captain McManlyman up on his offer to teach Warren personal defense) when he saw his opponent pull a rusty-looking knife from a sheath at his side. “Oh heck no!” Warren said in disbelief. This thing was getting way too real, way too fast. First fists, now knives! He screeched, “Put that thing away!” Tetanus is never a laughing matter, but it was especially not a laughing matter in Fritillary where tetanus shots did not exist.

  The guy looked at him quizzically for a few moments—he had never in all his time in the Forest run up against such a wimp. Then he lunged at Warren with his rusty blade, and Warren dodged to the side again, crying out in fear and frustration at these irrational savages who stabbed first and asked questions later, which is a silly order of operations indeed.

  “Hey!” Warren yelled. “Seriously, cut it out! We’ve got money!”

  The guy wavered in his assault. “How much?”