by R. T. Kaelin
Nothing he did seemed to make any difference. He set up a charity distribution trust fund with direct access from one of his accounts to fulfill his promise to share the wealth; she applauded it as a good first step but thought the five percent he routinely sent to it was far too small for a man of his means. He bought a new cell phone with internet trading capabilities programmed in so that he could make any last-minute trades on the way home from work. He put Sonnerfeld and the rest of his staff on a special vibration mode on his cell phone and a special flashing-light code on his home phone so that he could let any late-night calls go to voice mail if Lydia was around to disapprove.
None of it helped. Lydia seemed bound and determined to make him feel guilty about his success.
And finally, midway through the last weekend of that otherwise glorious first month Nick decided he’d had enough of her complaining.
He was still brooding over it Monday morning when the runaway bus slammed into a line of pedestrians twenty feet in front of him.
* *** *
“I’m surprised you even came in,” Sonnerfeld said, sitting on the corner of his desk as he handed Nick a cup of coffee. Or rather, tried to hand it to him. Nick’s hands were shaking so much that he couldn’t even hold it. Eventually Sonnerfeld gave up and instead set it down on the desk. “Why don’t you just go home?”
“I’m okay,” Nick said, gazing out Sonnerfeld’s floor-to-ceiling windows at the brooding clouds hanging over the New York cityscape. “It was just a freak accident.”
“Still had to be pretty unnerving,” Sonnerfeld said. “But if you think you’re okay…?”
“I’m fine,” Nick said, getting up and heading for the door. “Time and tide, and all that.”
Sonnerfeld gave him a thumb’s up. “Good man.”
It was mid-afternoon, and Nick had finally managed to put the bus crash mostly out of his mind when he heard that one of the firm’s up-and-coming young brokers had been mugged and beaten while returning from lunch. Returning, in fact, from the very restaurant Nick had been planning to go to until he’d been pulled into a last-minute emergency meeting.
Ten minutes later Nick was in a cab, heading for the bank. Ten minutes after that, he was on his way to the shop where he’d gotten the Ring.
The old shopkeeper was waiting. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said gravely. “How are you enjoying your new success?”
“I’ve got your money,” Nick said, pulling out a certified check. “You said ten percent—I’ve made it twenty.”
“Very generous of you,” the old man said approvingly, his hand darting out like a striking rattlesnake to pluck the check from Nick’s fingers.
“So we’re square, right?” Nick said, wincing again at the unpleasant touch of the other’s skin. “So call them off.”
“Call who off?”
“Whoever it was tried to run me down with a bus this morning and then mugged Caprizano at lunch,” Nick said. “I got the message, and you’ve got your money. Okay?”
The other shook his head. “I had nothing to do with any of that, Mr. Powell,” he said. “It’s the curse working.”
“No, but look, I got you the—” Nick broke off. “The what?”
“The curse,” the old man said softly. “You didn’t think all that money was just going to fall into your lap without any consequences, did you?”
Nick’s skin began tingling. The whole idea of a curse was absurd…but then, so was a ring that could make you rich. “What kind of curse are we talking about?” he asked carefully.
“Death and destruction, of course,” the old man said, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “The Rhinemaidens laid it on the gold when Alberich stole it from them.” His eyes came back and he smiled tightly. “That’s the one part Wagner got wrong. He said it was Alberich who cursed it.”
“Never mind who cursed it,” Nick snapped. “Are you saying it’s coming after me?”
“Of course,” the old man said, sounding surprised that Nick would even have to ask. “You have the Ring.”
“So that’s why you let me have the damn thing instead of using it yourself,” Nick bit out, twisting at the Ring.
The old man shook his head. “It won’t come off, Mr. Powell,” he said. “It likes you. More than that, it likes the money you’re making.” He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t suppose you’d consider turning your assets into gold? It especially likes gold.”
“In a minute I’m going to get on the phone and convert it to Rwanda francs,” Nick growled. “Now tell me how I get it off.”
“You don’t,” the old man said softly. “Not while you’re alive.”
Nick stared at him. “How do you know so much about this?”
“Because I was there from the beginning.” The old man lifted his hand to the side of his head, tugged at something, and abruptly shrank into a short, wide, bearded man holding a sort of metal cap in his hand. “I am Alberich,” he said.
Nick looked at the metal cap.
“The Tarnhelm,” Alberich answered his unspoken question, wiggling the cap between his fingers. “It gives its owner the power to change shape at will.” He smiled. “Wagner did get that one right.”
And with that, the reality of magic Rings and their curses suddenly came sharply into focus. “This curse,” Nick said between dry lips. “If it’s coming after me, why did Caprizano and those people just walking down the street get hurt?”
“The Ring’s trying to protect you,” Alberich said. “It will succeed, too, for a while. And I can also help.”
“For a price, I suppose?”
“Of course,” Alberich said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Nick growled. “And if I refuse, or you miss one? The curse nails me, I die, and the Ring moves on to someone else?”
“Basically,” Alberich said casually. “But at least your heirs will still have your money.” He shrugged. “If any of them are still alive.”
And right on cue, Nick’s cell phone vibrated.
He snatched it from his pocket, his heart suddenly pounding. “Powell.”
“Nick, its Amy,” the choked voice of Sonnerfeld’s assistant said. “There’s been a terrible accident. Mr. Sonnerfeld’s fallen down an elevator shaft.”
Nick looked at Alberich. How many times, he wondered, had the dwarf watched this same scenario play itself out, losing victim after victim to the Ring’s curse while he grew rich on his ten percent?
Amy was still talking. “I’m sorry—what was that?” Nick asked.
“I said you need to get back here right away,” she said. “The whole board’s coming in for emergency session—oh, God—”
“I understand,” Nick cut in. “I’ll be right there.”
“Your boss?” Alberich asked as he closed the phone. “Yes, that’s the usual pattern. From the edges of your life inward—strangers, co-workers, boss. Fortunately, you don’t have a wife or children, or they’d be next.”
Nick’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. Lydia…. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice sounding hollow in his ears as he headed for the door.
“Remember what I said,” Alberich called after him. “For an extra forty percent I can help protect you from the curse.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nick called over his shoulder.
To his relief, Lydia was sitting safe and sound at her desk when he barged into her office. “Come on,” he said, without preamble, grabbing her wrist and all but hauling her out of her chair. “We’re going on a trip.”
“Nick, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as she tried to pull from his grip.
“I’ve got a cab waiting,” he said, ignoring her struggles as he pulled her across the room under the astonished stares of her colleagues. “You’ve got ten minutes to pack, and you’ll need your passport. We’ve got just three hours until the next flight to Frankfort.”
“To Frankfort?” she echoed as he got her out the door. “You mean…Germany?�
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“I don’t mean Kentucky,” Nick said. “Come on.”
Soon, they were in the cab, weaving their way through the city’s streets. Nick could feel Lydia’s puzzled and hostile glare on him, but he ignored it. As long as he kept her close, maybe the Ring’s protection would extend to her, too.
Meanwhile, he had to find a permanent solution to the problem. It was these damn Rhinemaidens who had put the damn curse on the damn Ring. Maybe they could take it off.
* *** *
The sky had been clouding over as they landed at Frankfort International Airport. The commuter flight to Stuttgart had run into some more serious weather, and as Nick got them on the road in their rental car, the rain was starting in earnest.
By the time he pulled off the road beside the slope leading down to the Rhine River, the full fury of the storm had broken.
“This is the place?” Lydia shouted over the wind as they picked their way carefully through the trees and rocks toward the surging water below.
“Assuming Wagner knew what he was talking about,” Nick called back. “This is definitely the place he described for the scenery in the first Bayreuth production of Gotterdammerung. We’ll just have to see if he got it right.”
They fell silent, concentrating on the climb, and Nick found himself marveling once again at the remarkable woman beside him. He’d told her the whole story on the way to the airport from her apartment, fully expecting her to order the cabby to forget LaGuardia and take them straight to Bellevue. But to his surprise, she’d not only taken it calmly, but actually believed the story.
Or at least, she’d pretended to believe it. Still, that was more than he would have gotten from anyone else he knew.
The rain had moderated a little by the time they reached the bottom of the slope, but the winds had become more turbulent. Carefully, Nick moved to the edge of the river, wiping at the sheet of water streaming down his face as he peered across the roiling whitecaps spilling over the treacherous rocks. “Rhinemaidens!” he shouted. “I’ve brought you your Ring. Come and get it.”
There was no answer but the whistling of the wind. “What if they’re not here?” Lydia asked.
Nick shook his head wordlessly, looking back and forth down the shoreline.
And frowned.
There, about fifty yards downriver, he could see a squat figure standing with the stillness of a rock, facing their direction.
It was Alberich.
“I knew you’d come,” the dwarf said as Nick and Lydia slogged through the wet grass to him. “They all do, sooner or later. Hoping to bribe or beg or threaten their way out of the curse.”
“News flash—I’m not here to beg,” Nick told him. “I’m here to give them back their Ring.”
Alberich snorted in disgust. “Fool. You really think you’re the first one to think of that?”
“They won’t take it back?” Lydia asked.
Alberich looked her up and down. “You must be the one he was going to buy the Ring for.” He snorted. “Waste of effort. You’re not nearly ambitious enough.”
“You mean I’m not greedy enough,” Lydia shot back. “Why won’t they take it back?”
“Of course they’ll take it back,” the dwarf said maliciously. “The problem is, the Ring won’t leave him. That means the Rhinemaidens will have to take a bit more than just the gold.”
Lydia inhaled sharply. “You mean…his finger?”
“Or his hand,” Alberich said. “Possibly his whole arm.”
Lydia looked at Nick in horror. “No! They can’t.”
“They will.” Alberich pointed to a jagged rock in the middle of the river, barely visible above the surging water. “That’s their rock, and they’re already on their way. But there is an alternative.”
“What is it?” Lydia asked.
“Forget it,” Nick snarled. “He’s just playing another angle.”
“I’m as strong as they are,” Alberich told her. “For another twenty percent I can keep them away from him.”
“I said forget it,” Nick said again. He could see something in the water now, moving toward him just below the surface. “Even if it costs my whole arm, it’ll be worth it.”
“Nick, that’s insane,” Lydia said urgently. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, with our car fifty feet up a hill. You’ll bleed to death before we can get you to a hospital.”
And then, abruptly, three slender bodies surged out of the water onto the shore, and six hands grabbed at his clothing.
“Back!” Alberich snapped, leaping to Nick’s side and pulling his right arm away from the grasping hands.
“The Ring!” the Rhinemaidens called in unison, their voices thin and ancient and terrifying. One of them shoved her way beneath Alberich’s grip; and suddenly there was a tug-of-war going on for Nick’s right arm.
“Give us the Ring,” one of the Maidens said, her hand wrapping like a vice around Nick’s ankle and tugging him toward the river. “You retain it at your peril.”
“I know,” Nick said. “I want to give it to you—really I do.”
“Only the waters of the Rhine can wash away the curse,” the third Maiden said, her hands on Nick’s jacket, her face up close to his. Over the smell of fish, he caught a glimpse of sharp barracuda teeth.
“It won’t let go,” Nick pleaded.
“It likes him,” Alberich said, pushing the first Maiden’s hands off Nick’s arm. “Don’t be a fool, Nick. I can still save you.”
Nick blinked. It likes you. Alberich had said the same thing the first time Nick had set eyes on the Ring.
Only the Ring didn’t like Nick. All it liked was his money.
His money. “Lydia!” he shouted, shaking his left arm free long enough to dig his phone from his pocket. “Here,” he said, tossing it awkwardly toward her.
For a second she fumbled, then caught it in a solid grip. “Who do I call?” she shouted back, flipping it open.
“Phone list one—second entry,” Nick said, stumbling as the third Maiden got a fresh grip on his left arm and pulled him another step closer to the river. The one who’d been tugging on his ankle abandoned that approach and moved instead to Nick’s right arm, and now Alberich had two sets of hands and teeth to fight off. “Input trader passcode 352627.”
Lydia nodded and leaned over the phone. The Maiden on Nick’s left arm shifted one hand to his belt. He kicked at her legs; it was like kicking a pair of oak saplings. “I’m in,” Lydia called.
“There are five funds listed.” On Nick’s right arm, one of the two Maidens opened her mouth and lowered the pointed teeth toward the Ring. Nick cringed, but Alberich slapped the creature’s cheek and shoved her back again. “Transfer everything in the first four into the fifth.”
“What are you doing?” Alberich demanded, frowning at Nick in sudden suspicion.
“The Ring doesn’t like me,” Nick said. “It just likes my money.”
“What?” The dwarf spun toward Lydia. “No!” Abandoning Nick’s arm, he charged toward Lydia.
And suddenly Nick was fighting all three Maidens by himself. “Alberich!” he shouted as they dragged him toward the river. “Help me!”
“For what?” the dwarf spat, lunging for the phone. But Lydia was faster, twisting and turning and keeping it out of his reach even as she continued punching in numbers. “Seventy percent of nothing? She’s throwing it all away, isn’t she?”
“She’s transferring it into my charity distribution account,” Nick said. His feet were in the icy water now, the Maiden on his left arm already in up to her knees. “All the Ring cares about is money. And as of right now—”
“You’re broke!” Lydia shouted in triumph. “You hear me, Ring? He’s broke.”
Spinning away from Lydia, Alberich threw himself back at the Ring. “Get away from it!” he shouted.
“The Ring is ours,” the Maidens chorused in their eerie unison.
“It’s mine!” Alberich snarled, grabbing Nick’s wrist.
But the Ring still wasn’t letting go.
“Is this how you want to die?” Alberich demanded, pulling at Nick’s arm with one hand as he shoved at the Maidens with the other. “Drowned in the Rhine by creatures who have nothing left but hate and greed? There’s still time for us to make a deal.”
“I don’t want a deal,” Nick said. He was knee deep in the river now, the numbingly cold water threatening to cramp his calf muscles. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lydia doing something with the phone. “I don’t want money. All I want—”
And without any warning at all, the Ring came loose.
Nick’s arms were still pinioned, but for the moment no one was gripping his hand. With a desperate flick of his wrist, he sent the Ring arcing into the air toward the center of the river and the Rhinemaidens’ rock. “No!” Alberich screeched, diving toward it.
But the Maidens were ready. Two of them twisted their arms around the dwarf’s neck and dragged him into the river, swimming backwards toward their rock. The third Maiden dived into and then out of the water like a dolphin, reaching up and catching the Ring in midair as it fell. For a moment she held it triumphantly aloft, then turned and disappeared with her sisters beneath the waves.
And then Lydia was at Nick’s side, pulling at his now aching arms, helping him back to the shore. “What did you do?” Nick asked, shivering violently. The storm, he noticed, was starting to abate. “How did you get it to let go?”