by Kim Deister
“Well, you know enough of the lore to know that curses like this are broken with love, right?"
I nodded, not liking where this going. "Boy meets girl, girl meets boy. They fall in love. Happily ever after. The end."
He laughed at the sarcasm in my voice. "Basically, yes. Love is the most important part of it. Curses break because of love.”
“Okay, but then how does the whole ‘boy meets girl’ part apply? Usually a whole bunch of romantic crap has to ensue before a curse breaks.”
He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on my dismissive tone. “Yes, that’s true. And that romantic crap, as you put it, hasn’t worked for me at any point in time since I was cursed. I was charged to find love, true love. I think it broke because you’re loyal to the people you love. Because you love with your whole heart. Like with Kyra. Your love for her is pure and unconditional and you love her with everything in you, don’t you? You love her just as much as if she were your own daughter and would do just about anything for her. Like taking care of her frog. You did all the ridiculous things she asked of you. Singing to me, Skyping with her so she could see me. She asked you to keep me company, so you’ve been talking to me, even though I was just a frog. Or what was it you called me? A slimy amphibian. That’s love.”
I felt my face burn. I had hoped my singing would never come up in conversation again. Nor did I need to be reminded that I had spent the last few weeks talking to a frog as if he was my best friend. But he was right about how I felt about Kyra, although I had no idea what that had to do with anything.
“Okay. That all may be true, but so what? No offense, but none of that has anything to do with love for you. If anything, it's her love for you that should matter. God knows, that child loves you and she’s probably kissed you tons of times.” Oh, my God. What is happening to me? I’m talking to him like I buy this whole story.
“You’re right,” he said. “Kyra loves me. And, yes, she’s kissed me dozens of times.”
“So, why didn’t that do it for you?”
“I wish I could tell you for sure, but I can’t. Like I said, all I have are guesses. Maybe because she's a little girl and I’m a grown man. Maybe because I was indirectly a part of your unconditional love for her and that was enough. Maybe true love doesn’t have to mean romantic love. Or maybe I'm totally wrong. Maybe it is like all the curses in the myths and it isn’t broken at all, at least not completely. I don't know. Maybe fate has decided that you are my best hope for that.”
I stared at him long enough to make him fidget. Anger, frustration, and confusion all fought to rule me. Anger won, at least for the moment.
“First, you told me that it was my love for my niece that turned you human. Now you’re telling me that maybe it isn’t broken at all and that it is up to me to remedy that. By doing what exactly? Falling immediately in love with you? If that’s what you’re waiting for, you’ve got the wrong chick. I’ve been burned once and I’m not about to be swept away again. I don't care how hot you are. Not to mention that, while creative, nothing about your story is even possible. Magic. Doesn’t. Exist.” I’d had enough.
“I said that perhaps you were my hope for that to happen, not that it had to happen right this moment, or even at all. I told you, I don’t know a whole lot more about this than you do. These are just educated guesses. And, whether you want to believe or not, magic exists. Do you have a better explanation for why I’m sitting here in front of you and not in a tank?”
The reasonable part of my mind knew that he had said exactly that. But that didn’t make any of this easier to understand. It definitely didn’t make it any easier to accept it. And I had several more plausible explanations for the lack of a frog in the tank. I just couldn't prove any of them.
“And what makes you think that I am the one to make this happen?” I hoped that he couldn’t hear the uncertainty in my voice that I could. My brain told me this was all a steaming pile of bullshit. But the man was convincing and, unbelievably, I really wanted to believe it, to believe in him.
I stood up and paced. To his credit, Finn let me pace in peace, saving his answer for when I calmed down a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him watching me with concern until I finally stopped and turned to face him. And now I waited, one eyebrow raised in anticipation.
“I don’t know how to answer that, not in a way you’ll like or believe.”
Not the pearl of wisdom I had been looking for. “Try me.”
Finn sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. “Fine. Curses have some universal rules. They won’t break unless conditions are satisfied. That’s just how magic works, even if we don’t understand it. And curses of revenge, like this one, are usually pretty specific. Meaning only one person can possibly break it, the soul mate. And while I can’t be one-hundred percent sure it’s broken, I’m pretty damn certain it has or, at least, will be soon.”
I sat back down on the couch hard enough that I felt the frame slam into my tailbone. I was completely overwhelmed by the implications of his words. Real love. The kind between two adults. The man was trying to sell me a story of curses, enchanted frogs, and kisses that change everything. I didn’t even know the guy and he essentially just told me we were destined to fall in love and be together. Talking about moving too fast. Considering my track record, that alone was enough to scare the hell out of me.
“Magic. Curses. Enchanted frogs. I know the stories, too, but they aren’t real. But, for the sake of argument, let’s just say that I believe you. So, answer a question for me. Why are you so sure that the curse is even broken? You said yourself that most of the folk lore is based on truth, right? Well, in the stories it takes full-on, mushy-gushy love to break them. And I think we’ve established that I don’t even know you, much less love you. So, again, why are you so sure it’s broken? Maybe the fact that I kissed you and you became human was just a coincidence of timing.” Even hearing those words coming out of my mouth was enough to make me crazy. I was tempted to hop in my truck, drive myself to the nearest mental health hospital, and check myself in.
“Because it’s different this time, different enough to make me certain.”
He answered with a serious expression. He’s committed. I’d give him that. A giggle that was only a little maniacal escaped before I could stop it and I almost choked in my desperation to cut it off.
I shivered and Finn crossed the deck to hand me the throw I’d shoved to the floor during my mini psychotic break. After tucking myself into it, I took a moment to really look at him. He looked nervous, even scared. The guy looked like a badass, not the kind of person to be scared of much of anything. It was that, more than anything, that made me want to throw away every last lingering doubt.
I sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “Different how? Specifics would be lovely right now.”
“The only way I can explain is by telling you the whole tale, if you want to hear it.”
Did I?
If I listened to his story, I knew my life was going change in epic ways. It would change everything I thought I knew and it would change how I looked at the world. I didn’t know if I was ready for that. But I also knew I needed to hear it, even if it was only to prove Finn was delusional. And no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I desperately wanted every word to be true. Either way, the time had come for a little liquid support.
I picked up the bottle of Wyborowa vodka sitting on the deck next to me and unscrewed the top. I didn’t bother with such niceties as a glass. The bottle was still icy cold when I touched it to my lips and knocked back a mouthful. The vodka burned its way down my throat and set fire to my stomach. Finn watched me with an eyebrow cocked and a look of amusement on his face. I downed another short pull of the icy fire, ignoring his chuckle.
“Would you like a glass, lass, or do you enjoy drinking like a bohemian savage?”
I rolled my eyes and he chuckled, showing me one of his too sexy dimples, before leaving me to go back inside. I knocked back a
nother small slug. Moments later, he reappeared carrying a pair of shot glasses between his fingers. He took the bottle from me and poured two tall shots, reaching out to hand one to me. Even knowing I was being churlish, I ignored it and snatched back the bottle. He shrugged, sat back down on the couch and drank them both himself.
My head was spinning so I leaned back against the wall again, trying not to jostle my head. Too much vodka too fast killed any gracefulness and I managed to slosh it all over myself. That elicited a few choice words from me that were less than PG-13. I leaned forward to set the open bottle down before I completely embarrassed myself. I waved a hand, indicating I was ready as I was ever going to be to hear his story.
Finn’s expression immediately went from amused to nervous and he took a deep breath. It occurred to me that this was probably the first time he had ever had to tell someone his story. No wonder he looks so freaked out.
“As I’m sure you can imagine, life was very different when I was growing up in Ireland. By the time of the curse, I was already old at twenty-nine. I was lucky to have lived that long, especially considering how I lived. Life was hard enough during those times and I made it even harder on myself, not that I thought much about that at the time.
“Have you ever heard of Ballyvoloon?” He paused, waiting for me to answer his question. When I shook my head, he continued. “It was a village in southern Ireland. You likely know it as Cobh, in County Cork?”
I nodded. “Grandma Fi’s sister lived near there until she passed a few years ago. I’ve been there a few times. A couple of summer vacations, a Christmas or two.”
“As I grew older, I got the itch to see something other than the same docks every day. I didn’t want to work the fields like my father, tend sheep like my sister’s husband. It wasn’t that I was afraid of hard work. I just had adventurer’s blood. So, I hung around the docks, picking up small jobs from the crews that came ashore. They never paid very much, but a few coins were a treasure for a young lad. And I hid in the shadows and listened to their stories. Finally, when I was thirteen, I got myself hired by one of the visiting merchant ships as a lowly deckhand.
“It was hard work, but it paid and it was better than staying at home. I worked hard and saved every coin I earned. And then a few years later, I won a ship of my own after a whiskey-fueled night of cards. It was in rough shape and barely seaworthy. But I had the coin to repair it and I did. While it was in dry dock, I scavenged together a crew from among my mates. I captained my ship for more than a decade, right up to the night everything changed.”
My head was reeling from his words when he stood up in a crouch and retrieved the bottle of vodka from where it sat. Unlike the bohemian savage that I was, Finn poured another shot in his glass and knocked it back. I managed to restrain myself from grabbing it back.
“Not my usual poison, but I like it,” he remarked, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs. “But to continue… in the beginning, hiring my ship out as a cargo vessel was a legitimate and lucrative way to make a living. But it was dangerous and it got more dangerous as time went on. Ships robbed at sea, crews killed, cargo and ships stolen. I never lost my ship, but I lost cargo and crew too many times to count. And you don’t get paid for lost cargo. I got sick of losing mates and money, so I turned to less savory work. I joined my enemies in the kind of work that changes a man and how he sees the world.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you became a pirate?” I couldn’t believe I was even saying the words. A pirate. Captain Jack Sparrow is standing in front of me, minus the guyliner and long hair.
“Yes, lass. That’s what I’m saying. I stole more than my fair share of cargo and coin. It shames me to admit it to you, but I became infamous among others of my kind for what I did. I was good at it and my coffers filled to extraordinary levels. In retrospect, my skills have proved to be quite helpful.”
“How’s that?” I realized I was leaning forward in rapt attention. Some of it was his voice, but the truth was… his story was fascinating. It sounded cliché, but it was history come to life and the way he told it made it easy to believe.
He filled his shot glass with more vodka before he leaned back, spreading his muscled arms over the back of the couch. Toying with his shot glass, he grinned at me, comfortable now that he was finally telling his story. The fact that I wasn’t arguing or having meltdowns probably helped, too.
“Because it meant that, with some fancy financial footwork over the years, I am far from destitute. Spending much of the last three centuries in the body of a frog has not always led to large earning opportunities. I’ve had to make the best of it during short periods of time. Investments, trusts, and some creative financial sorcery has left me well suited. The world of finance isn’t so different from being a pirate.” The wink threatened to turn my knees to jelly.
I shifted back, putting a little more space between us before responding. “Ah, yes. Good point.” Financial planning with a pirate… who knew?
“Anyway, to get back to my story… I’m ashamed to admit it, but my infamy went to my head. I took everything for granted. Everyt
hing, lass, not just my skills on the high seas. I became a lot like the other frogs you’ve kissed in your life.” His expression darkened and he couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Meaning what, exactly?”
Instead of answering me, he threw back the shot of vodka and slugged back another before setting it on the floor. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs as he looked up at me. Shame was all over his face, not something I’d ever thought I’d see in a pirate. But then again, what did I know about the moral codes of pirates?
“I mean that I was a bit of a rogue, a cad. My mum would have been ashamed if she’d known what I’d become. I’m almost grateful that she and my da both succumbed to consumption when I was young so they didn’t bear witness to it. After a while, the only thing I cared about was my mates, filling my coffers, and the next adventure. I didn’t give a damn about other people, beyond what they could do for me, especially women. I used their feelings for me and twisted them to get what I wanted.”
I didn’t like what I was hearing. Everything in me wanted to believe Finn was different. But hearing his own words, it was hard not to be disappointed. I reached forward and grabbed the vodka, taking another bracing slug of icy courage as he continued.
“One year, my last as a captain as it turned out, we ran into a terrible storm and barely made it back to Ireland. We put in at the shipyard in Waterford for repairs that were extensive enough to force us onto dry land for almost six months. I found a room in a boarding house and proceeded to spend my time carousing in the local pubs with my mates. And that is where my story truly begins.
“The widower that owned the boarding house had a daughter a bit younger than I. Siofra was beautiful and very naive. She fell in love with me and I knew it, even encouraged it. But I didn’t care about her beyond what she could do for me, so I did the unthinkable in a time when gentlemen were supposed to treat ladies like fine china. I laid with her time and time again with no intention of making the arrangement permanent. I cared nothing for what that would do to her standing in polite society. And when my ship was finally seaworthy again, I gathered my crew and left without a second thought.”
The rush of anger I felt toward Finn for this poor girl surprised me. But I knew only too well how it felt to be used and discarded as if I were nothing. No one deserved that. I knew Finn saw my anger when he gave me a rueful smile.
“I know,” he began. “You’re angry and you are right to be. I was an arse to her and to others. And I know that you have no reason to believe me, but I am not that man anymore.
“But I was then and I forgot her existence as soon as we set sail. Until one night a few months later when she appeared in my cabin, even though we were leagues from Ireland. We were in the middle of the ocean, not a single spot of land in sight. That is when I learned the truth about who and what she was. She was a woman
with powerful magic and she was full of rage. And I learned how lethal a combination those two things are. She cursed me that night, forcing me to feel the same kind of hurt and pain I had caused to so many.”
The woman had screwed up his entire life, but it wasn’t anger I heard in his voice or saw in his face. It was sadness and regret. This was a man who took responsibility for what he had done, real or imagined, and my anger faded away. No matter how much of a jerk a guy was, most didn’t have to deal with much more than maybe a key to the car and awkward phone calls. But not Finn. Instead, he got cursed.
“Are you saying that this Siofra was some kind of witch?” I don’t know why this shocked me so much, but it did. Curses generally involved magic, after all. Maybe it’s the vodka…
“No, not a witch. Something more than that. She was one of the aes sídhe.”
I looked at him for a moment, trying to wrap my head around this new information. I thought maybe the booze was getting to me. “The Fair Folk, right? As in the Tuatha Dé Danann?”
“You know your Irish lore,” he noted with a smile that threatened to melt my insides.
“I have an Irish grandmother who has a taste for magic. That doesn’t mean I believe the stories she told.” Snarkiness was my only shield against the gorgeous, obviously insane pirate, especially when he grinned at me.
“Be that as it may, lass,” he replied smugly. “Anyway, whenever she has seen fit, I’ve become human again for a few years at a time. I never know when it’s coming. The rest of the time, I’ve lived as a frog.”
“And the point of this?”
“She makes me human so that I have a chance to find the love that will end the curse. But it’s never that easy. Siofra makes sure of that, believe me.”
“More curses?”
“No. Nothing magical. Purely mundane. Wherever I am, when I become a man again, she is there. Sometimes I see her, sometimes I don’t. Most of the time she leaves me alone, but if I get to close to breaking it, she finds a way to interfere and sabotage me. There have even been times when she has insinuated herself into my life with a different face, trying to make me fall in love with her.”