Goddess Curse

by RaShelle Workman

  Sincerely,

  Grandmother Agatha

  Lucy read the words again. …Lived two big lives… and …Follow in my footsteps… gave her pause. What did her grandmother mean? Lucy hoped that by reading the journals she could figure it out. Rearranging her pillows, she flipped the page.

  Written in her grandmother’s flowing script, Lucy began to read:

  Sothersby, England ~ 16th April 1745.

  After the strange occurrence today, which was also an entire week in another time, I have decided keeping this journal is of the utmost importance. My dear friends Mary and Grace will be so pleased. They keep journals and have recommended I follow suit on more than one occasion over the years.

  For myself, I preferred reading or stargazing in lieu of putting ink to paper and tracking my dull days. My hand already hurts, and my fingers are stained with ink, but I cannot ask my maid to do the writing. She might think I have gone mad and tell my mum and dad.

  Let me begin.

  Over the past six months, Grace, Mary, and I all turned eighteen. My birthday was celebrated yesterday. It was lovely, an entire day filled with dancing, delicious food, games, and flirting. The three of us enjoyed ourselves immensely. I danced with my intended, the Count Peter Polenska of Vega. He appears to be a kind and lovely man as does Grace’s Sir Charles Ettelbey and Mary’s Lord Franklin Smythe.

  While each of us deems the match made for us suitable, we also determined we needed a final hurrah and acted accordingly.

  Grace and Mary removed their stockings, walked to the edge of the dock, and dipped their toes into the cool pond while I decided to stay in the meadow until I found a four-leaf clover. I wanted to press it into my Bible. I told myself that if I found one it would be Providence’s way of telling me my life with the Count would be happy.

  I didn’t find a four-leaf clover. What I found instead was a strange circular piece of metal, the outside shaped like a half circle. Within it are two smaller circles. They are attached to twenty-four smaller circles. I picked it up, thinking it must be even more lucky than the clover and was whisked—

  Ellen burst into the room, interrupting. “Lucy, Mother says she’s received word that everyone is calling your ball a crush. It is the talk of the town.”

  Lucy closed the journal and placed it back in the box.

  “Is that so?” It felt like an age since she saw her grandmother, much longer than the two weeks since the woman’s death.

  “Yes.” Even in her gray dinner dress with her hair up and tied in a black ribbon it was obvious Ellen would be a great beauty. They were all in mourning. “Mother says that Mrs. Hadley told her that—”

  “Did you need something?” Lucy asked. She knew she sounded rude, but she was in no mood to listen to what Mother’s friends had to say. She wanted Ellen to leave so she could get back to the journals.

  “Yes. Sorry, Luce.” She glanced down a moment, clasping her hands behind her back. “Father ordered me up here to fetch you.” She stuck out her bottom lip as she walked over to the bed. “Like a maid.” She sounded devastated.

  Lucy thought about telling Ellen that if she wanted equal rights for all people that meant equal work as well. Instead Lucy said, “All right. Please send in Harriet to help me dress.”

  Ellen shook her head and her eyes grew large. “No, Father said you were to come down immediately, dressed or not.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “Very well.” Lucy set aside the box and tossed back the covers. A quick glance revealed she was decent enough. “Hand me my wrap,” she said to Ellen, pointing at the black wrap hanging over her chair.

  While Ellen gathered it up, Lucy went over to her slippers but as she was about to put them on, she noticed a small garden snake curled inside one of them. “There you are you cheeky little thing.”

  “Excuse me, sister? I am not cheeky.” Ellen said, mortified, her mouth propped open with indignation.

  “Sorry, Ellen. I wasn’t speaking to you, but to the snake in my slipper. See it?”

  Ellen screamed and tore onto the bed. “Oh dear Heaven. Kill it. Please.”

  Lucy went over to her table and picked up the contraption she built to catch it the last time they were in Sothersby. When pulled the lever inside the wooden box would snap the lid shut. Then it could be used as a carrier so she could set the snake free outside. “I’m not going to kill it. He’s adorable.” She placed the cage on the floor in front of the snake. “Come on, snake. Get inside. Don’t worry, I’ll send you into the garden.” Lucy searched for something to use to coax it in and picked up the other slipper. The snake hissed and tried to slither away, but Lucy got it into the box, then snapped the lid shut. “There. See?” She picked up the cage and set it on her dressing table, then took the wrap Ellen dropped and put it on.

  “I’ll turn the snake out into the garden in the morn,” Ellen said, carefully climbing off the bed. “You can be so strange at times, Lucy.”

  “I know.” Lucy couldn’t deny the accusation. It was true. She wasn’t like other girls her age. Sitting at her dressing table she began running a brush through her hair as best she could. Finished, she said, “I’m ready. Lead on, dear sister.”

  9

  THIRD QUARTER MOON

  Supper with Lucy’s family was noteworthy. Lucy followed Ellen into the dining room just as the main course was being served. At Lucy’s place still sat the other courses. It was way too much food.

  “Father. Mother.” Ellen curtsied and then sat next to Beaufort. He made a face at her and she smiled.

  Lucy curtsied and then sat in her spot across the table from Ellen and Beaufort and next to where Grandmother used to sit.

  Her father cut into a hunk of meat and stuffed it in his mouth. “How are you getting on? Feeling any better?” he asked.

  Lucy placed her napkin in her lap and brought the soup forward. She picked up her spoon. “Very well, thank you.”

  “Good. No sense starving. You must keep up your strength,” her mother said.

  “Agreed!” Winston shouted so loud the chandelier above them shook and dripped wax onto the table and her hand.

  Ellen let out a small scream. Beaufort snorted with glee.

  Lucy ate another spoonful. “Thank you for your concern and thank you for the journals.” She smiled at her mother.”

  “Of course, dear. I figured you must have more use for them than I.”

  “Is that what you were reading when I walked in?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes,” Lucy responded, but didn’t elaborate.

  “Dashel has been the perfect gentlemen, hasn’t he?” her mother said.

  “He has.”

  “If Dashel hadn’t found you the night of Grandmother’s funeral you might have caught your death,” Beaufort added, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth.

  “Oh my, yes. Your father didn’t want to chance the rain so Dashel offered to search for you.”

  “He’s like a knight in shining armor,” Ellen added, wistfully.

  “It seems I am deeply indebted to my betrothed. I’ll have to find a way to thank him properly.” Lucy took a sip of the liquid in her glass.

  “With a kiss,” Ellen said, giggling and blushing brightly.

  “A poem would be a lovely gesture,” her mother said, giving Ellen an irritated glare.

  “Save the kissing for after the wedding,” her father added.

  “A poem would be nice,” Lucy said.

  The rest of supper went like that. They talked of dresses, parties, the wedding, and other things that seemed trivial given that her grandmother had died.

  After dessert was served, Lucy excused herself. “I’m going out to the stables and check on my horse. She’s due anytime.” Lucy tucked her napkin under her plate.

  “It’s late. Perhaps you should check on her in the morning,” her mother said.

  “If you please, I would really like to check on her tonight.” She gave her father a pointed look, hoping he remembered what he said the night of
her ball, that she could make her own choices.

  “Let the child check on her horse,” he said.

  Lucy went to the door.

  The clock chimed eleven o’clock in the evening.

  10

  GRANDMOTHER’S GRAVE

  Lucy had never been afraid of the dark, especially on a night like tonight when the moon shone so brightly in the clear sky. But as she skirted the barn and made her way to the cemetery, memories of the previous night’s events wiggled their way into her mind and fear curled its way through her insides.

  A dark thing like an apparition had risen from the mist meaning to do her harm. A bright light flashed. Two names, Apep and Hathor were spoken. Then she fainted.

  At last she arrived at her grandmother’s grave. It pained her to see the dirt piled over the top, made her grandmother’s death even more real. Tears sprang into Lucy’s eyes at the thought of never seeing her grandmother’s face again, never hearing her exhilarating stories.

  “It isn’t fair,” she whispered. “I need you. You said you had things to tell me.”

  “There, there, dear. I told you not to be sad.”

  Lucy froze. Her grandmother stood in front of her, directly on top of the grave.

  Lucy fell back. She was so surprised. “Grandmother? Are you real?” She rubbed at her eyes.

  “As real as a dead person can be,” her grandmother chuckled.

  Lucy got up, brushing her hands on her wrap. “Can I touch you?” She put a hand out to touch her grandmother’s face, but hesitated.

  “I’m a ghost, dear. You can’t touch a ghost.”

  “Oh.” Lucy sniffled. “Well it’s nice to see you.”

  “It’s nice to see you too.” Agatha sort of float-stepped off the mound of her grave and came to stand next to Lucy. “I can’t stay long. I’m required elsewhere, but I have something for you.” She reached under the collar of the black dress she was buried in and took out the locket.

  “Your locket?”

  “The locket isn’t the most important part of the necklace.” She opened it to reveal the half circle Lucy read about in her grandmother’s journal.

  “You wrote about this,” Lucy said.

  “Can you see it then?”

  “Yes,” Lucy said. “It looks broken.”

  Her grandmother nodded. “I believe it is broken too.”

  Lucy moved closer, studying the way it curved.

  “For nearly four decades I believed it was a lucky charm. Last year I found some writings that revealed it’s actually an amulet.” She lifted it toward the light of the moon. “It can do something incredible.”

  “It can?” Lucy leaned forward, reaching out a finger to touch it.

  Her grandmother pulled it away. “Wait. Before you touch it, you need to understand what I’ve learned.”

  “I’m listening, Grandmother.” A deep longing swirled within Lucy, a feeling she never felt before.

  “Here’s what I know. The moment you touch this piece of metal your life will change forever. So you must think it through.” As her grandmother spoke, she brought the amulet close to her chest.

  “Why? What happens?”

  “The amulet takes you to your true love, Lucy.”

  That really got Lucy’s attention. “It does?”

  “Yes.” Her grandmother smiled a sad, sad smile.

  “Well of course I want that.”

  “Even though you’re engaged to be married. To a good man, I might add.”

  That brought Lucy up short. “He isn’t my true love, is he?”

  “No, dear. But you already knew that.”

  Lucy bobbed her head in agreement, then took a short breath. The air smelled of burning firewood and fresh dirt. A part of her did love Dashel. Life would be so much easier if she accepted him. “Do you know who my true love is?” Lucy tried to remain calm, but her excitement couldn’t be contained. She trembled with joy at the idea of meeting the man who should be hers, knowing the man who would love her entirely.

  “No, dear, I do not. I know the power of the amulet will take you to your true love no matter where he is and that includes time and space.”

  That didn’t make sense. “I do not understand.”

  “For me, when I touched the amulet, its power sent me two hundred years into the future, to another continent.”

  For the first time in Lucy’s life she questioned her grandmother’s sanity. There was nothing in the world powerful enough to transport a person into the future. “But what about Grandfather?” It was the most reasonable question she could summon.

  “The Count isn’t your grandfather, dear. Not really. Your grandfather lives in a time that hasn’t yet taken place, in a land that is very new.” While she spoke, Lucy could hear the excitement, love and longing in her grandmother’s voice. Wherever she was, that was the place where her heart belonged. Lucy felt certain of that.

  “What’s his name, then? My real grandfather.”

  Agatha’s apparition began to shimmer. “His name is Charles Kincaid.” She touched a hand to Lucy’s face. Or tried. “The choice is yours, child. Do you want the amulet or not?”

  Lucy was torn. Her mind told her not to believe the ghost, that this was some sort of trickery, but her heart screamed yes.

  “Decide, Granddaughter.” Agatha opened the locket and held it toward Lucy.

  A million thoughts sparked across Lucy’s mind. If she touched the locket, where would it take her? How would she get back? What would happen if she went back in time? Or worse, forward? “I’m unsure, Grandmother. I still have so many questions.” She hugged herself, trying to hold the worry and nervousness within. “Can’t you stay longer?”

  “I’m sorry, dear. My time has come. You must make your choice quickly.”

  Her grandmother’s words solidified her decision. She would listen to her heart, not her head. Reaching out she took the locket, wrapping it in her hand. The instant her fingers brushed the cold copper, her world changed.

  SECTION TWO

  11

  GLORIOUSLY HANDSOME

  New York City, USA

  Sunlight shone around her and Lucy blinked. Moments ago she was in her family’s graveyard conversing with her grandmother’s ghost. It was nearing midnight and the only light came from the moon and the stars. Now the sun glared down. Trees were everywhere, their branches full of new leaves and soft blossoms the color of blush pink and lavender.

  In the distance sprawled many enormous odd structures. Some were pointed others rectangular. She guessed they were incredibly tall buildings. But she couldn’t imagine how they had come to be. The air was heavy and infused with the lingering smell of the ocean. Lucy turned in a slow circle, exploring her surroundings, trying to get her bearings.

  Dozens of people milled about. Shouting. Laughing. Squealing. Eating. Playing. They all seemed happy, which disquieted Lucy even more. She clutched the locket in her hand, wishing it would return her home. As she placed the chain around her neck, fear like she never experienced nearly overwhelmed her. How long would she remain in this time?

  Lucy exhaled. She chose this. As crazy as it sounded, she asked to be taken to her supposed true love instead of staying home and marrying the man her father had picked for her.

  I can do this, she told herself, standing up straight.

  Something struck her in the back. “Ouch.” She turned around in time to see the most gloriously handsome man in the world jog over, swoop down and pick up a yellow circular disc.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, flashing her a brilliant smile.

  When her eyes connected with his, it was like time stopped. Lucy didn’t know how long she stood frozen in place. It could have been seconds or hours. He straightened and Lucy had to arch her neck to keep their eyes locked.

  “Are you all right?” One of his eyebrows lifted with the question.

  Was she? Lucy had no idea. His eyes were cerulean blue, and they danced with wicked mischief. Sunlight licked at his golde
n blond hair, making the short ends appear to be on fire. Lucy was speechless and embarrassed. The man wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pants hung low on his hips and barely covered his knees. A band of black ink circled his right arm. It was the most skin Lucy had seen on a man. His body was covered in rippled muscles but no hair, at least none that she could see. She found herself wondering what his skin would feel like. Would it be soft and supple like a feather or tough like that of a rock? Those thoughts made her face flame and she turned away, breaking the strange moment.

  It was then she really noticed what the other people around them were wearing. Or weren’t wearing. It surprised her people weren’t walking around with their arms crossed over their bodies to cover themselves up. Could there have been a cotton shortage? Was that why everyone wore so little?

  “Hey,” the man snapped his fingers. “Did you do too much partying last night?” He pointed at her clothing.

  Lucy looked down and saw that she still wore her sleeping clothes. “Blast!” She covered herself up and then tried to think about what the man asked her. “I had my eighteenth birthday party a couple of weeks ago. It was rather stuffy.” The sun was in her eyes making her squint as she looked back at him. “But it wasn’t too terrible, just a bit awkward at times.” She remembered all the people she hadn’t known who watched Dashel propose. And then there had been dozens of people who were introduced to her whose names she couldn’t remember.

  The man gave her a strange look.

  “Come on. Throw it back, Will. I’m growing old over here.”

  About a hundred feet away another shirtless man with lots of muscles and some black ink on his stomach shrugged as he raised his hands in clear demand.