The Cursed Girl, #1

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The Cursed Girl, #1 Page 37

by Maria Vermisoglou


  The parents thanked me for taking care of their children and they gave me a pouch with herbs.

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to bring those.”

  “You seem to have a lot of work here, and you can’t possibly go to gather those too,” the man said and smiled.

  “Thank you again.”

  They left and the house seemed empty without all those people. It was me, Ritta and my mother like before. My mother went to the village center for bread and news, and she said people were moving into homes made by the kingdom. “They are moving in a few at a time, and it isn’t the same amount each time,” my mother said.

  “How are they moving them?” Ritta asked.

  “Maybe there is some kind of pattern,” I said and they looked at me.

  “Like?” my mother asked.

  I shrugged. “The poorest or the families that have the most members. I don’t know.”

  A pigeon interrupted our conversation. I unrolled the letter on its leg, and it was from Alicia. She asked how we were and how things were in Spain. In Italy, all the people were settling back into their normal lives.

  I envied the Italians. I wrote a quick note to Alicia and told her about the destruction, the rain, and the food stall. I told her the only good things were the houses built for the people and the arrival of my mother and Ritta.

  Midnight sniffed the paper and meowed. “Yes, it’s Alicia. I know.” Midnight meowed again. “What? You want to write something too?” I took her outside and carefully put her right front paw into the mud and then pressed it to the bottom of my letter. Underneath Midnight’s pawprint, I wrote “This is from Midnight. She says hello and she misses you.” I tied the letter to the pigeon and let the pigeon fly away.

  That afternoon, we learned one of my guesses was right. They were taking people according to how poor they were. I was glad that at least they had learned to care for their people and done what they could in the current situation. According to that knowledge, we must be near the bottom because the village didn’t contain rich people and families with one, two, or three members were rare.

  The rain continued and poured upon us without mercy. The heavy continuous rains prevented us from repairing the house. Now I appreciated the fact that having more people in the house meant more warmth.

  The first day of March brought more rain and a man knocking on our door—and making it fall. It was the man with the envelopes who had knocked the door down the last time he was here. “How many times do I have to tell you not to knock? Don’t you remember it from the last time? Can’t you read?”

  The man backed up and was suddenly outside in the rain, so he reentered sheepishly but stood in the corner. “I am sorry. I didn’t remember.”

  He gave me the letter, and I gave it to my mother since she was the head of our household and the oldest one here. She read it and nodded, and then the man left.

  “What does it say?” Ritta asked.

  “That there is a house available for us in the Calle del Otoño.”

  That was a nice street in the past, and only the royals used it. There was a cobblestone road, and there were outside lanterns. Someone lit the candles in the lanterns each night. In the past, if you weren’t a royal, you didn’t belong there and would be kicked out if you dared to walk on the road. I was surprised houses were being built there for the poor.

  We gathered our few belongings, but we waited for the rain to stop. The rain didn’t stop until the afternoon, so we went to the food stall to eat first and then went to our new house. It was wooden, and it had a kitchen, two bedrooms, and, surprisingly, a cellar. I didn’t know why, but it felt wrong to me—like I was staying only for a few days like in France or Italy. Ritta and my mother unpacked their things and put them in drawers or wardrobes, but I just put my bedclothes on the bed and unpacked nothing else.

  “Aren’t you going to unpack?” my mother asked.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  She sat on the bed near me and took my hands. “I know, but we have to stay here.”

  I looked at her. “Says who?”

  She didn’t answer me because there was no answer to that. The house was warmer and safer and it didn’t have holes or missing walls, but it felt cold to me, empty. After a few minutes, she said, “You can’t go back to our house.”

  “Yet.” I went to look for Midnight and found her sniffing the house and trying to understand what was going on, but there wasn’t any understanding for something like this. Not for humans and certainly not for cats. I had a plan and I would see it through.

  The Hearing

  The next day—which was sunny—I went to see the couple who had stayed at my house. When I knocked, the man opened the door and looked at me in surprise. “Hello, Miss Eva. What can I do for you, and may I ask how you found us?”

  I smiled as I entered. “The children helped me. They know every house and who lives in it.” He laughed. “I came to find you because I want something.” We sat and I explained what I wanted.

  “You want me to help you build your house again?” I nodded. “Have you received the new one yet?” I nodded. “Yet you still want your old one.” He smiled.

  “I know it’s stupid—”

  “It’s not. Some people are bound with some things: houses, necklaces, tables... all sorts of objects. They carry them from house to house if it’s a movable object, and others, like you, build their houses again because they love them so much. It’s not stupid. It just says something about the person: that he or she has good memories in it and doesn’t want to lose them.”

  No, I didn’t want to lose them. He agreed to help me, and tomorrow we would start gathering wood and stones to build the walls and other rooms again. He refused to take any payment from me because I had let them stay at my house.

  The next days were all work for the house: gathering, cutting, and building. The children and some people I had helped in the past came to help. They didn’t question my actions and only asked what they could do. Maybe they would rebuild their houses too when the rains stopped or when things were settled. We ate lunch in the woods each day, and we stopped for the day when it was time for dinner and too dark to see. If it was a rainy day, we couldn’t work, so I helped people with my herbs and medicines. Even Midnight helped and brought whatever she could carry.

  While my house was being repaired, the village market returned. Some Italians came and started selling fruits, vegetables, and other things which they had brought with carts. It was a brilliant idea and the village’s people went immediately to buy and bargain. My mother went too, and I was glad because she was best situated for bargaining. I couldn’t convince anyone with words, only with knives like Ritta. Well, Ritta bargained with her looks, and I... well, in the former market people knew me, so I bought at reasonable prices. But outside? I guess the war helped or I was lucky.

  When my house was finished, it was perfect to my eyes. The window frames were painted orange and the door was blue. The interior was wood, and in some wardrobes, drawers, and the bed frames, the man had carved a symbol: the sun with the moon.

  Inside, I painted ravens and other birds flying on the walls and in the mantelpiece a cat. Midnight was happy and went from room to room and meowed.

  I painted the exterior of the house too. I knew it might seem extreme, but I thought it was suitable. At the base, I painted grass, and up on the roof, I painted clouds in white, light blue, pink, and yellow. Above the doorframe, I painted the words Eva’s Cave with flowers curling from the words. There were some flying birds at the top of the walls, and near the door was a little black cat trying to catch a butterfly.

  “Wow. You really are skilled,” Ritta said when she saw everything I had painted. “From afar, the birds, the cat, and the grass all looked real. You know, I think I am going to hire you to paint my own house up there.”

  Ritta had a house in the White Land—aside from her parents’ house—like all the witches had, but it was plain white
. No surprise there since almost every house and building in the White Land was white.

  “I can but what do you want?”

  “Flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.”

  “Are you sure you won’t eat the walls this time? It will be a shame. And bad for your health.”

  She hit me. “That was an accident. When are you going to forget it?”

  I laughed. “Not in a century.” She scowled. “Anything else?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. The sun maybe and some sunflowers and other flowers.”

  “What kind of flowers and sun?”

  “Different kinds of flowers and colors, but the sun is one.”

  “But the sun has different colors too: sunset, sunrise, midday—”

  She clapped her hands. “Sunset. I love the sunset.”

  “I have the information I need. I will draw some sketches, and you will decide what you like best. Do you want them on the inside or on the outside?”

  “Can we do half inside and half outside?”

  That would turn out to be great if I drew it right. “It’s your house. I just want to know so I can make it right.”

  “When do you have time?”

  “Tomorrow, I will make the sketches, and if many people don’t come for medicines, I will have them done, and you will see them at dinner.” I enjoyed drawing and painting and I was excited to do it again.

  Some people had the same idea as Ritta once they saw my house. By noon, I had three orders, and I decided to start sketching now. I finished with the sketches, and I distributed them to the people who had ordered them before going to the food stall for dinner, where I would meet Ritta, and I could give her the sketches for her house.

  Today was the last day of the food stall. With the market, people now had everything they needed to cook, and with the new houses, everything else was settled. I wondered what we could do with the huge space where the houses, shops, and market used to be.

  If they rebuilt shops there, I didn’t think I would reopen my shop, since I had painting as a job now and I found much more pleasure in it. I would go to Portugal in the summer like I promised, but I thought I would rather have painting as a job there too. Maybe I could do both.

  After dinner, I headed home. On the way, people stopped me and gave me the sketch they liked best or placed more orders.

  The next day, I painted pictures inside three houses. The first house had flowers, and the second house had flying birds. The request for the third house was odd; he wanted his family members painted on the walls. All three houses were finished before the end of the day. If they had also wanted the exterior painted, I told them we should wait until spring or summer when there was less rain. They agreed and since I painted the inside of their houses they are quite satisfied.

  I met my mother and Ritta for a meal of fried tomatoes and cheese at my mother’s house. I thought of Eva’s Cave as my house and the wooden house provided by the kingdom as my mother’s now. Ritta came and went as she pleases. Today she would stay with Midnight and me.

  “I am very pleased with the prices I achieved at the market,” my mother said.

  “Was the quality good also?” Ritta asked.

  “Yes, it was wonderful. How did your painting go today?”

  “Very well. Everyone was happy with their paintings, and I enjoyed myself.”

  “I am very proud of you for doing what you love most, darling,” she said proudly.

  The days passed quickly with paintings and sketches. On a rainy day, a letter arrived from the White Palace. I was being summoned to “discuss” my actions. It was like I was a child who had done something wrong, I had just helped people, and I would continue to do so. Ritta was coming with me, and after the night had fallen, we soared through the skies to the White Land.

  The moon was shining above the palace and illuminated the whole place. It was a beautiful picture for anyone that could enjoy it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t there for that. We arrived at the entrance, and a witch let us in and guided us to the office of “Her “Majesty.” I could feel the stares, the looks, and the whispers as we passed. I knew they were for me. Ritta had been here all the time during the war, so I doubted they could say anything bad about her.

  We paused at the door. “Time to face the music,” I said.

  Ritta smiled. “You call that music? It’s a cacophony.”

  I tried not to laugh and I knocked. A witch opened the door and her eyes widened when she saw me. “The p-princess... awaits.” They were afraid of her. I was never afraid of the princess. I was more disgusted by what she did. Shouldn’t a princess be loved? We went into the same office I had been in the last time I was there. Her office still had that mark from when I made the glass fall. Couldn’t she remove it? She was the witch of ice and everything was made of ice in here. How could she not control her own power? I was an exception, but the other witches could control their powers.

  “Welcome,” she said with her icy voice, and her cold eyes fell on us. She seemed satisfied that Ritta was here. “So, my dear”—she turned to me—“I was informed that you didn’t come when you were summoned, stayed on Earth, helped the people, and you literally changed the course of the Spanish history by rescuing and hiding not one but two of the royal members. What do you have to say about yourself?” She said it in a manner that made you think I had done something bad, but I couldn’t see anything bad in what I had done; on the contrary, I could see something good had come out of it.

  “I don’t think I did something bad. It was dangerous, but certainly not bad.”

  She hit the table. “Not bad?” she shrieked. “You changed the course of human history. We do not meddle with human affairs. In any way. We just guard the borders. Nothing else.”

  “If I hadn’t helped them, Princess...” I pronounced her title in a way that said “I am not afraid of you.” I smiled at her angry expression. “The king that took the title in a violent way would have killed everyone in this world. So, tell me, what would it matter if we protected the borders when there were no people standing?” Her face was as red as a tomato. “And something else... didn’t you want to punish the one responsible for the opening of the black grand portal and all the deaths of the witches who tried to close it?”

  Ritta arched an eyebrow; she had not known about that.

  “I don’t care if the humans died. It’s the law.” The princess glared at me. “We don’t ever judge the law or ignore it.”

  Ritta spoke for the first time since we entered. “Actually, we can ignore it.” Her voice was clear and determined. The princess and I stared at her. I didn’t understand what she was doing. As far as I knew, the law couldn’t be ignored in any way. Ritta continued, “The law can be ignored in some extreme cases.”

  “Is that so?” the princess said sharply.

  “Yes, and one of the cases is if the humankind faces extinction by its own doing or by any other power; then we are allowed to intervene.”

  The princess looked like someone had sucked the air from her. Well, Princess... this is check. Your move. “But you can’t do it without my order,” the princess said in an attempt to thwart Ritta.

  “Actually, any witch can act on her own when she thinks the situation calls for it.” Check and mate.

  “You are lying. There is no such thing as what you are saying.”

  I waited, but Ritta still smiled. “You can check the Great Book if you like.” The Great Book was where all the laws were written, and the current princess couldn’t erase the laws of the previous princesses.

  The princess made the Great Book appear and she found the correct page. “The witches are not allowed to intervene or change the history of humans. Ha. It’s all a lie.”

  “You didn’t read the small letters,” Ritta said and I looked at her.

  “What small letters?” the princess asked, and Ritta gestured to her to keep reading. The princess leaned closer to the book. “Except for instances of human extinction by human or other f
actor in which any witch can act on her own when the situation calls for it.” The princess clenched and unclenched her jaw.

  “I never saw that tiny little thing. No one told me about that.” The princess was seething. Under that exception, I couldn’t be punished. The princess couldn’t do anything to me, and we stood. “We are not done,” the princess hissed through her teeth, trying to contain her power—the crystals on the ceiling were moving violently.

  “You are right...” I said. “Now that you saw that exception to the law, my mother can come to the White Land whenever she likes. The note existed before your reign.”

  The princess stared at me. “What?”

  I smiled. “You heard me. My mother did what I did, and you exiled her for this. Now she is free to come and go to the White Land as she pleases.”

  The princess was silent. There was nothing she could say. The doors opened, and we were free to go. Whoosh! A crystal flew in my direction, and I melted it. “You should be careful with your feelings. Can’t you control your own power?” I laughed and it started to snow on the princess’s head. “Apparently not,” I said, but I knew it was my own doing. As we passed, sunflowers were thrown from the ceiling, and I knew Ritta was doing her best to make her mad.

  “If I ever become a princess, I will tear this thing down and change decoration. Something warmer—”

  Ritta laughed. “With flowers.”

  I shook my head. “You and your flowers.”

  We left the palace and we went to the library. The library was the only place open at night. All the shops were closed, but there were many witches in the streets. Maybe everyone knew the princess had called me. Their faces were filled with wonder, curiosity, and appreciation. I didn’t see hate or fear like I had expected.

  Heather smiled when we walked into the library. “I see you changed the history again, Eva.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How do you know?”

  She laughed. “I am the librarian. Of course, I know, but everyone knows it since the princess asked your mother where you were and there were a lot of witches there to hear it.”

 

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