Of Thorns and Hexes

by C. J. Canady

  A parade of buzzing erupts from either side of me; a wave of fairies, hungry for flesh, sweep around Markus and me like thousands of angry bees. Swatting the fairies with one hand while carrying the cat and sack in the other, I make a dash for the stream of water down the blood-slicked hill.

  “Where are you going?” Markus grunts. He uses his beefy mitts to punch at the swarm that is nipping at him.

  Ignoring him as I flee the fairies on my tail who bite and scratch at me, I leap into the stream and am instantly swept downstream by the torrential current. The cold water yanks me at such speed, I begin to lose grip on my bag and the poor, injured talking cat. The icy water chills me to my bones, luring me into a watery grave as I try to fight against the current, against drowning. My head goes underwater for what feels like an eternity; water fills my nostrils, burns the back of my throat. Struggling to stay afloat, I reach a hand out to find purchase—a branch, a sturdy rock, anything. But I find nothing. I begin to say my prayers to the Goddess, asking for forgiveness if this should be my end. My prayer is interrupted by someone or something, which wraps its hands, or possibly tentacles, around my waist.

  I am pulled to shore, my body aching from head to foot as I allow this person or creature to lure me to safety. Or my doom. Gently, I am placed on my back as a cold hand presses against my chest. My waterlogged eyes trace the outline of a ghastly face. Too weak to fight, I just lay there when they speak to me.

  “Elyse? Are you okay?”

  “Percy?”

  “Yes. It’s me.” Percy sets me upright against the bark of a tree, inspects my face with his wet hands, and smooths a thumb over my cheek.

  “You are... were a cat,” I cough the spring water from my body. “Why are you a cat?” My voice is weary, tired.

  “Not the time to talk about that.” His face comes to light, the blues of his eyes more prominent than ever. The worried lines drawn on his forehead deepen when he turns his head in the direction behind me, where the explosion of magic and battle cries erupt. “You’ll be killed here if you don’t get moving.”

  “How are you here?” I ask, wiping my mouth. “Why are you a cat? Or were, rather?”

  Assisting me to my wobbly feet, Percy refuses to answer me. Instead, he says, “I want to help you. I snuck into your bag to be with you.”

  This moment would be perfectly romantic if not for the battle happening a half-mile behind us. It would be even better if Percy would answer my most pressing questions. “You’re Vahilda’s cat. I went on a date with a cat-man?” Just my luck, too.

  “I’m not a cat-man.” His jaw tightens. “Vahilda put a hex on me. But, again, I can’t explain now. Elyse. If you want to live, we must move.” He hurls the sack over one shoulder. “I smelled rosemary to the west.”

  I turn my head westward where the stream we were tangled in runs opposite of. “We have to go back to the killer, flesh-eating fairies?”

  He snorts, shakes his head. “No. Plus, I smelled some rabbits, too. So, two birds with one stone.” He rubs a hand over his stomach. “And I’m pretty starved. How ‘bout some rabbit for lunch on our second date?”

  I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I’m genuinely at a loss for words. The golden-haired boy I’m smitten with is cursed to live a double life. One as a cat. The other as a human.

  The witch put a hex on him. Has she put one on me, too?

  Chapter 13

  WATCHING PERCY’S HUMAN form collapse into the one of the black cat is unsettling. His bones pop and crack, bending at odd angles. His flesh becomes mottled with tufts of black, furry spots that start at the middle of his nose then consume his entire body. Feline paws replace his hands and his feet. A heart-shaped nose bubbles atop his button nose. When Percy, a five-foot-ten, one-hundred-and-forty-pound human, is transformed into a nine-inch long, ten-pound cat, I can’t help but fall to my knees and vomit the finger food and wine from last night’s party.

  “I... I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” Wiping my wet lips with the back of my hand, I observe Percy on the hunt for a rabbit.

  Percy shoots me a glare, reminding me to be silent and not to disrupt his concentration. Doing as such, I hide behind a prickly, ovate-shaped bush while peering over the top to watch him in action. Percy nears a rabbit’s nest, a hay and grass-covered hole in the ground. Percy prepares to pounce, rear end wiggling like a snake ready to strike. Tufted white ears poke out from the hole, and soon a white rabbit climbs from its home, fur sparkling in the noon sun.

  It all happens so quickly. Percy pounces. The rabbit squeals. Blood trickles from the critter’s neck as the cat-man chomps down and snaps the rabbit’s neck.

  Back in his human form, Percy sets a campfire to prepare a feast of crispy, fried rabbit with berries he scrounged up on our journey, a safe distance from the battles taking place. I can still hear faint explosions and screams in the distance. I just hope those noises don’t come any closer. I want time to rest, to regain my energy, but any downtime is time not spent procuring the items I need to win.

  “Fairy wings and rosemary,” Percy says each item between chews of rabbit. The helpful cat-man picked up a bouquet of rosemary while we trekked to this spot. “And now, a rabbit’s foot.” He places all three items into the sack. “Now you just need the Egyptian bean and Holy water.”

  “Any clue as to what those are?” I ask, gnawing on the tender flesh of the rabbit’s paw. “I assumed the list was just nicknames for flowers, but I was wrong. Very wrong.” I shudder as a flash of the fairy grounds comes to my mind. The dewinged fairies. The chewed-off flesh of the deceased competitors.

  “I believe the Egyptian bean is a lotus flower that only grows in certain lakes.”

  “Oh, great, more water.”

  “As for the Holy water,” he says, tapping his jaw with the rabbit’s knee bone. “I’m guessing that means actual Holy water.”

  “Where would we get something like that?” I huff and hang my head. “Maybe there’s a church somewhere nearby?”

  Percy shrugs. “I’m sorry I can’t help you with that one.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. But first, I’d like to know more about why you’re a cat and why you never thought to tell me you were a cat.” I scoot closer to him to meet his eyes. Folding my arms, I nudge him on his side with my elbow. “Spill. I want to know everything. Why did that witch put a hex on you?”

  Percy gulps, checking every which way as if Vahilda might pop up out of thin air. I perform my own set of checks because the witch might be listening or lingering by like the flies who’ve come to claim some rabbit for themselves.

  “I saw her... Vahilda...” Percy takes in a deep breath. “I saw her murder your father.”

  “Percy,” I say his name softly. I can only imagine the horror he witnessed, the nightmares that he’s probably experienced. “I’m sorry. You must’ve been two or three when that happened.”

  His eye twitches, and he expels the breath he’s been holding. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “No,” I say, tone cold. “You can’t just tell me you saw my father being murdered and not explain how it happened and why she cursed you to be a cat and didn’t kill you.”

  “Because I don’t want to.” He’s on his feet and moving away from me. He stops and leans against a tree. I can’t see his face, only his backside, but I can tell he’s crying. He paws at his face, wiping furiously. “I promise to tell you, honest. I just have to focus. I have to ensure you win the Flower Trials.”

  “Why are you so willing to help me?” I warm my hands by the fire, rubbing my palms together. “You’re putting yourself in just as much danger by being here.”

  “Because...”

  “Because what?” I slap my palm against the ground.

  Percy turns to face me. “Because I love you.”

  My heart hammers in my chest, beating at such rapid intervals, I press a hand over it. Goosebumps prick the back of my neck and down my arms. My
face burns as bright as the fire crackling beside me. He loves me. Percy loves me. I’ve never been in love; I never thought I’d be. Even if I was, I don’t know what love feels like. I don’t know what love is.

  I say nothing and just stare at him, a girl lost in her thoughts. Every romance book I’ve ever read never prepared me for the weight of hearing those beautiful words spoken to me. The silence between us stretches for a minute, then two, then ten. A feeling of regret slaps me out of the daze.

  Sighing, Percy slides down the tree and onto his rear. We say nothing, do nothing.

  I break the silence after half an hour. “I don’t know what that is. And I don’t know if what I feel for you is deep like or if it’s love. How can you be so sure?”

  “I’m sure that I’m sure.”

  “W-We should find a place to rest for an hour or three,” I say, abruptly changing the topic. I need more time to digest all of this. I can’t focus on winning if thoughts of love and being with Percy cloud my vision. “I know we should keep going, but I’m worn out.”

  Percy points above him. “We’ll sleep in the treetops under the stars. It’ll be much safer there.”

  Nightfall comes peacefully, a kiss goodnight to the world filled with marvelous stars. Twinkling gas balls far out in the heavens shine heavenly white in the blue-black sky. Percy and I are so high in the treetops that I feel that if I lift a finger to the sky, I can remove a star. Moonlight washes the miles and miles of woodland around us in a silvery glow. Although we are on a battlefield, everything feels peaceful, almost serene. My guard is still up for any invaders wanting to cause harm. But for now, all is well.

  As much as I thirst for more information about Percy and how my father perished by his sister’s hands, I’ll leave well enough alone. For now. Percy insists on helping me during my trials, and I appreciate the helping hand. I would’ve liked to have the benefit of winning the Flower Trials for myself without the help of a man. Men always want to save the day, even when they’re not needed.

  And yet, I am enjoying Percy’s unwanted company. Nothing in this universe can keep someone from the one they love, which is why I’m grateful he’s here. No one—human or of magical blood—should ever have to live their life without ever saying those magical words to someone they care about. I don’t want to even begin to imagine the heartbreak Percy would face if he never shared how he felt with me if I were to perish during the trials. He’d be with that witch, unhappy and abused. Just like I would be if I were still with my mum.

  “You are really like a son to Vahilda?” I adjust myself on the thick branch. “You’ve been with her for almost nineteen years, right?”

  “Just about.” Percy swings a finger at the sky, connecting the stars.

  “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. You can share with me what happened when the time is right. What I want to know is, how can we break the hex? How can I help set you free?”

  “All hexes can be broken, yes,” the cat-man says. “A hex is easier to break when you know how to break it. Fortunately for me, I figured it out. It took me forever, but Vahilda is very lenient on where I can go in Parnissi.”

  “Speaking of the witch,” I snarl, “won’t she know you’re missing? She’ll come looking for you—”

  “She won’t. Vahilda is smart. She’s probably figured out that I’m with you and knows my intentions.”

  “Hmm.” I guess he’s right. Vahilda is a wise woman. I’m certain she’s complacent with Percy being here to help me. The witch is sure I will come out victorious, even if that means cheating my way to victory. Now, though, as much as I want and need to win, I’ve changed my mind about becoming an Elite. After learning Vahilda killed my father, all I want to do is to be free of her. “Am I hexed? I know I signed Vahilda’s contract in blood, but does that mean anything?”

  “You signed a blood oath with Vahilda.” Percy stretches his arms, tilts backward on the tree with hands clasped behind his head.

  “But how do I break it? Is it the same way you can break yours?”

  “I know how to break mine. I just want you with me with I do.”

  “Okay...” I quirk a brow. “Care to share how to break both our hexes?”

  “You’re not hexed, Elyse. You signed a blood oath. That can only be broken if you were to, um, slay Vahilda.”

  Terror floods my veins like the electric magic Markus used on me. I begin to sweat, to hyperventilate at the mere thought of doing battle with Vahilda. I’ve only seen a sliver of what magic Vahilda can do, and I’m sure the witch can wreak havoc should she so choose. How can I stand to engage in a losing effort to reclaim my life from her? Need I remind myself, Vahilda and my father completed the Flower Trials. That alone speaks for itself. I’ve only had two weeks of training where Vahilda has had her whole life to learn more magic than I can ever begin to fathom. Vahilda will have stolen my life away before I can begin to think of attacking her.

  Percy and I are silent again before I ask him, “How do you break your curse?”

  “The power of a kiss will do the trick.” He smiles, and I can’t judge if that smile is a joking smile or a serious smile. When I’m silent and regard him with a strange you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look, he nods in affirmation. “It’s true. A kiss will break the spell.”

  “A kiss?” I roll my eyes. Of course, it’s a kiss. Why must my blood oath contain murder written in the fine print? I wish a kiss could sever the bonds that tie me to the wicked witch. But my life has never been so easy.

  Percy stares at my lips while he bites his. “Will you help me out of my bind if I do the same for you?”

  “You’ll help me kill Vahilda?” I wince. My face goes cold from the unholy thoughts of slaying the witch.

  “If you do me that small favor.”

  “Sure,” I say the words so quickly Percy jumps and nearly falls out of the tree. “You’ll be my first kiss.”

  “You’ll be mine, too.” His eyes catch the light of the moon.

  I slide to him, fingers gripping the sides of the giant branch we’re perched atop.

  “But not right now.”

  I stop mid-slide. “Oh? Okay.”

  “Not that I don’t want to kiss you. I just want us to have a plan in action to, um, take down Vahilda. She stands in our way of freedom. Once we’re free of her—” he cups my hands in his. “we can start a life together far away from Parnissi. How does that sound?”

  “Like everything I didn’t know I wanted and so much more.” This would be the picture-perfect time to share a kiss. The moon sits right behind Percy, gifting him an angelic aura. The critters are singing their nightly song. Everything about this moment says, “Kiss me.”

  Percy gives my hands a good squeeze before he removes his soft, delightfully warm hands from mine. The bitter cold of the night air comes to claim my hands, a familiar kiss upon my skin.

  Chapter 14

  A TRAIL OF FRESH BLOOD tells the story of an epic battle, and the mangled bodies of a group of wizards confirm the path Percy and I have chosen is the right path. The wittier competitors, who know what to look for, will know where to find the last two things on the list. The only issue with the plan I’ve come up with is the matter of being the first to locate and retrieve the last items. We’ve got to put a little pep in our steps to find a shorter route. Hopefully, the cat-man and I are to be successful.

  Whoever slew all these witches and wizards worked alone. Observing the manner of death seems to have been the work of a mad person. Bodies contorted at odd angles, necks slit from ear to ear, limbs, and fingers missing. These victims were not just magicked to death; they were bludgeoned and most carved like turkeys. I pray I do not cross paths with the witch or wizard responsible.

  I need to win this. I need to escape. I need to face Vahilda.

  Percy, back in his cat form, balances on my shoulders as I sprint through the maze of bodies, over downed trees, and around decimated animal carcasses. “I smell magic to the east. Lots and lots of magi
c. And—” his ears swivel eastward “—water.”

  “I’ve had my fair share of swimming yesterday,” I groan. I’d like to stay far away from any open bodies of water as I possibly can. If Percy is correct, then the Egyptian bean will be near water. “We’re almost there.” My ears burn at the sounds of a commotion—a magical scuffle.

  Finally, out of the maze of death, I find myself on a sandy, golden-yellow beach where wave after wave of murky waters crash ashore. I observe my competitors swimming in the midnight black waters, some engaging in water battles, others drowning, screaming for help. In the distance, about a mile or two, is a barrier of flowers bobbing atop the surface of the water. Vibrant pink lotus flowers float in a perfect horizontal formation, almost too perfect.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” I say to myself and to the cat, who nods agreeably. Scanning the beach, I see Justine and her boyfriends standing at the shore, smirks on their faces as if they know something is about to happen.

  Markus comes into view and barrels out of the woodland borderline like a crazed wizard. His face and hands are soaked in blood. The bag he carries is full to bursting, an arm and a foot protrude out of the opening. The wizard winks at me, licks his lips, then jogs to the shoreline. Digging in his bag, Markus pulls out a severed arm, snaps off the fingers like twigs.

  “What is he doing?” I clench my jaw, observing the wizard like a hawk.

  Percy purrs beside my ear. “I think... I think he’s going to use those fingers as bait.”

  “Bait for what?”

  My question is abruptly and terrifyingly answered by a shrill, serpent-like hissing that bubbles from the vast sea. Like towers rising to the ether, an army of sea serpents adorned with lotus crowns on their heads slither from the water. Panic engulfs the competitors who, as I had, assumed the lotus flowers weren’t attached to eight hundred feet high behemoths. The buoyant witches and wizards scramble to swim back to safety, but it’s too late. The serpents strike the water like harpoons, sharpened teeth plucking the competitors like finger-food, swallowing them in one smooth gulp.