by M. Lorrox
Eddy swallows. The Vampire’s Curse, I’ve never heard this version of it.
“In a flash, the god disappeared, and the villagers were cursed. They instantly felt the hunger for blood, and they scattered back to their homes in the village. They became the world’s first vampires.” She takes a relaxing breath and looks at June. “Nuts, right?”
June nods. “Yeah, pretty intense.”
Jambavan stops walking and turns to them. “But you said the ring reminded you of it?”
Sky stops and rolls her eyes. “Impatient much? I’m still not done!”
“Oh.”
She starts walking again. “C’mon, and if Jamby over here stops interrupting, I might be able to finish the story before we get back.” She smiles at him. “So, that’s how vampires were created, according to legend... Because, you know, science didn’t exist then. But here’s the weird thing: I’ve looked the legend up and read the different translations, and only my old nanna’s version has this next part. I don’t know if she was just being demented and making the thing longer—because I didn’t like it and like I said, she was evil—but anyway, that ring...”
She shakes her head again. “Okay, moving on. Before the sun arose the next day, after the attack on the god and the curse was laid upon the villagers, the village’s shaman returned to where the sin was committed. He collected the adornments the men had stripped off the god and the weapon that they used against him. The shaman wrapped them up in the finest cloths he had, and he carried them all to a holy site in the mountains. He performed ritual after ritual with the objects that night and was pitied by the god of death.”
Jambavan looks at Eddy. “Have you ever heard this part?”
Eddy shakes his head.
“The god of death came to the shaman in the darkness. He came in the form of a man of great stature, but he was a pure and empty blackness with no features. Only a black shape and void. He said, ‘You are a fool, old shaman, but you are also no good to me in life. I cannot break the curse laid upon you and the others, but I can change it. I can give you respite from the constant hunger, relief from the scorching sun, and I can grant you permanent relief in death, but there will be an equally great cost.’
“The god of death said, ‘Take my brother’s silver jewelry and soak them in his blood—that which lingers in the chalice those fools drank from. The ornaments stolen from my brother will steal back his blood, and they shall forever lock it within.’ The shaman did as he was told, and the silver metals absorbed the blood and turned a reddish gold. The god of death then said, ‘You have cleansed the chalice. Now, you must use the ceremonial knife that cut the god of life, and you must use it on yourself. Empty the chalice of the jewelry, overflow it with your own blood, and drink it.’
“The shaman placed the jewelry on the ground, then grabbed the knife. Without hesitation, he cut off his own arm at the shoulder. He poured the blood into the chalice until it overflowed, then drank it to the last drop. When he set the chalice down, his hunger for blood diminished, and he smiled at the god of death.”
Eddy laughs. “That seems like a bold choice.”
Sky forces a chuckle, then continues. “The god of death saw the shaman smile at him, and he laughed. He said, ‘You are a great fool for smiling at death, but I shall still help you. To grant you and your village a release from your blood’s curse in death, you must drink of my blood.’ The god of death reached forward with his empty black form, and in the moonlight, he cast a shadow over the chalice. In the chalice, black liquid death swelled up from the bottom until it flowed over the rim. The shaman lifted the chalice and drank.”
Jambavan shakes his head. Never trust a god of empty blackness.
“The god of death said, ‘Death will now and forever be in your blood. You and your kin shall yet die, but your curse will not die with you. It will live on in your descendants.’ The shaman, pleased to have returned the natural cycle of life and death to his village, thanked the god of death, who then said, ‘Rejoice as you wish in your fate, but know this: these relics are cursed now and forever, and they can never be destroyed. They have taken part in not one, but two unearthly magics, and the power of the curses within have grown.’
“The god of death lifted the chalice and said, ‘Any liquid that ever touches this chalice will become an embodiment of death—a poison so strong that one drop spilled onto the land would disease and corrupt anything living within sight’s distance.’ He placed the chalice down and picked up the knife that still dripped the shaman’s blood. ‘This blade will forever thirst for blood, and if the thirst is not quenched, it will bind any man who touches it into a rage. In it, he will not eat nor drink, but will seek to replace his hunger with death. He will murder anyone who looks upon him until his strength fails, and the blade will possess him to carve out his own heart.’”
Eddy squeezes June’s hand.
“The god of death set the blade down and picked up the ropes that the god of life was bound with, and said, ‘If this rope ever again touches flesh, and for every time it does, a single fiber from it will bury itself into he who touches it. After a month’s time, that fiber will have grown into a serpent that will eat that man alive, from the inside out.’”
June clears her throat. “Ay yi yi, I might have nightmares.” Actually, that’d be great—if it meant I could sleep.
Sky tilts her head. “The worst is yet to come.” She swallows. “The god of death then said, ‘You will carry these items far into the mountains and hide them in the deepest cave you can find. For you cannot protect these items yourself, and your only hope should be for them to be secret and remain undiscovered. But be aware, you cannot hide the jewelry with these relics. The blood of the god of life that now lives in them, will call out to the minds of the ones who share in your blood’s curse, and the jewelry will make themselves found. Hide them all—each separately—and hide them well, for if they are all worn together by one person, that person will summon a great evil that the world has never known. The one who wears that pendant, those armlets, and that ring will be possessed by the vengeful blood that once filled the chalice, and he will walk among men as a god of destruction, bent on ridding the world of all life—and thus also—all death.’”
Jambavan swallows. “I see.”
“And so, the shaman immediately set out and found the deepest cave in the mountains, where he hid the chalice, the blade, and the rope. When he saw the sun rising as he left the cave, he indeed felt it scorch him like the god of life had promised. To his surprise though, the only part of him the sun scorched were his eyes, which in burning agony changed color. After the pain subsided, he felt the soothing warmth of the sun on his skin.
“He smiled, but for only an instant. For he knew that the gifts from the god of death came with the great costs that had been described to him. In his pocket, he felt the armlets, the pendant, and—” She takes a quick breath. “—the ring, and he knew he had to get them as far away from the other villagers as he could.”
When Sky pauses for a moment, Jambavan looks at her. “Then what happened? Or is that the whole story?”
She kicks a stone out of her path and then stands up straighter. “That’s pretty much it. My nanna said the shaman hid the armlets in the east and in the west, the ring in the south, and the pendant in the north. The shaman returned to the village and cared for his daughter, and after many, many years, met with the god of death again. Over the millennia since the objects were imbued with the curses, the Cardinal’s Vengeance…” She glances around at the others. “That’s what Nanna called the jewelry, I forgot to mention that... The Cardinal’s Vengeance has found its way back into the hands of the vampires. They are cursed with the blood stolen from the god of life, and it is foretold that someday the jewelry will be rejoined and worn again, and the result will be the end of the world.”
No one says anything.
Sky turns to
Jambavan. “That’s it.” She glances at Eddy and June. “Heavy stuff. Gave me nightmares for years.” She shakes her head. “Damn you, Nanna.”
Eddy nods. “Yeah, I’d have nightmares too... I wonder if my parents know that story.”
Sky shrugs. “Ask ’em. But that’s what that old ring made me think of... I can’t decide if I’m hoping that it isn’t the ring from the legend, or that it is, and that it can be protected.”
Jambavan scoffs. “I’m sure the whole legend is nonsense. There’s no such thing as black magic, and there’s no gods of life and death lurking behind the scenes.”
Sky nods. “Aye. I suppose you’re right. That might be a better thing to hope for.”
When they approach the hotel, Jambavan stops them. “I just thought of something. Eddy, there’s a man who is very knowledgeable about our culture’s artifacts and relics. He works here in DC. You could see if he knows anything about the ring.”
“Oh yeah? Cool. What’s his name?”
“Lorenzo Bernardi. You should be able to find him online. I’ve never met him, but my knight, Korina, has. She said she didn’t trust him, so be very careful.”
Eddy nods. “Thanks, I will.”
When they reach the hotel, they all exchange phone numbers before they split off.
Up in the room, Charlie and Sadie are in pajamas, painting with Minnie in the living room. Eddy sets his bag down in his family’s bedroom, and June looks for Skip in their room.
She pokes her head into the living room. “Where’s my dad?”
Charlie looks at her and shrugs. “I haven’t seen him since the presentation earlier.”
She walks over and looks at the pictures they’re each painting. “Oh, nice dinosaur, Charlie.”
He smiles. “Thanks!”
“And Minnie, I like your...boat.”
“It’s a time machine.”
June twists her head and points. “What are those lines then—around the time machine?”
“That’s the time. They’re going backward through it. That’s why Daddy’s making a dinosaur.”
“Oh, cool. Think there’s enough materials for me to paint something too?”
“YES!”
June laughs then goes into her bedroom to change. Eddy also changes, and after they have all made paintings, they use them together to tell a story about a princess—Sadie’s painting—who becomes a pirate—June’s—who uses her time machine—Minnie’s—to travel back in time to talk to a dinosaur—Charlie’s—to find the secret island of treasure—Eddy’s.
After the story, Minnie is put to bed, and Charlie takes Rusty out for the night. June and Eddy still sit on the floor with the paints and papers scattered around them. June checks her phone. She has a text from Sky and one from her dad.
She opens Sky’s message.
Great to meet u June! BTW, you and Eddy are sooo cute I wanted to barf, but didn’t cause I hear its rude. ;)
She smiles, then opens her dad’s message.
I hope you had a good night, and don’t wait up, I’m getting to know a new friend. Love you, Dad.
June texts them both back, then turns to Eddy. He’s painting another picture. “What’s that one going to be?”
“I’m not sure yet, I just wanted to paint some lines.”
She grabs a new sheet of paper and sets it down in front of her. “I challenge you to an abstract-art off.”
Eddy lifts his head from his work and looks at her. “And how does one win?”
“Clearly, whoever makes the most abstract image.”
Eddy puts his brush down. “No fair, you cheated. You already won!”
She shakes her head and looks at him. “What? I haven’t painted anything yet.”
He picks up her paper and holds it up for her. “Exactly. It’s the mind when it considers the ramifications of a temporal paradox.” He looks at the paper himself. “I think it’s brilliant.”
She laughs and shoves him, then takes the paper back from him. “You’re such a nerd.”
Charlie walks Rusty on a leash until they are behind the hotel and out of sight. Then, he takes the collar off and pets him on the head. “Now don’t go getting into any trouble, and try to keep a low profile, alright?”
-Bark!-
“Yeah, yeah.”
Rusty sits down on the ground, then he suddenly flutters out a set of wings that look like those of a bat.
“You’re so weird, Rusty.”
-Bark!- He stretches his wings out, then jumps in the air and beats his wings, flying away into the night.
Charlie watches him disappear into the distance, then he walks back around to the front of the hotel.
The night bellman is helping someone take their bags from the trunk of their car. He loads a luggage cart, and when he pushes it into the hotel, Charlie follows behind. The bellman goes to get another cart while Charlie sneaks past him to the elevator. Whew, made it, that guy can talk your ear off.
Upstairs in the suite, Charlie tells June good night, and then heads into the bedroom with Sadie and Minnie.
June scoots over to sit next to Eddy, and she leans her head on his shoulder. “Today was pretty wild.”
Eddy nods, and June feels his body shake.
“I’m glad I’m here with you, Eddy.”
He looks down at her hair. He slowly raises his hand, and he strokes down the length of it. June nuzzles her head a little deeper into his shoulder, and then she feels that hot flash come off Eddy again. This time, instead of getting freaked out by it, she smiles and breathes it in.
Eddy swallows hard. “June?”
She presses off his chest with a hand, lifting her head up to his—just a few inches away, looking straight into his eyes. “Yes?”
Eddy pets her hair again and shifts his eyes back and forth between hers. She feels the hot pulse again, then he sets his hand on her shoulder. “I think you’re really special.”
She smiles and blinks her eyes slowly. “I think you’re pretty special too.” She moves her head a fraction of an inch, still gazing into his eyes. He starts to fidget with his hand, then stops. He takes a deep breath and smiles. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”
She nods and whispers, “Me too.” She closes her eyes and inches her face toward his.
He looks at her lips and serene face. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! He wraps his arms around her and sets his head next to hers, giving her a hug. He whispers in her ear, “Good night, my dear June.”
A different warmth washes over her, and she floats along it. She whispers back, “Good night, Leo.”
They hold the tight embrace for a few breaths, then they release and smile at each other. They stand and part in the living room for their respective bedrooms, allowing their hands to keep their connection until they’re out of reach.
In the Costanzas’ room, Eddy brushes his teeth and slides into the bed he’s sharing with Minnie. He stares at the ceiling for a while before looking up Lorenzo Bernardi on his phone.
In June’s room, she sits by the window, staring out into the night.
Rusty is almost due north of the hotel, in Rock Creek Park—a 1,754-acre urban park inside DC. He trots along a jogging path that separates a winding stream and road. Occasionally, when a car rounds a corner, its headlights cast Rusty’s shadow across the stream and onto the foliage.
He hears something rustling ahead of him and on the other side of the stream, and he decides to go investigate. He crosses the stream—the way that a normal dog would—then jumps through some brambles growing near a large tree and enters a small clearing. There, he finds a pack of coyote-wolf hybrids. They circle him, growling and snarling. The coywolves behind Rusty inch closer.
Rusty barks and spins, but they continue to close in. Then, he sits his little Wire Fox Terrier butt down on the ground, and he howls. He howls
louder than a hound, louder than a coyote, and louder than a wolf. The darkness shakes with his howl. The coywolves sit down around him and join in. They howl into the cool air, as a pack, with a new leader.
Rusty and the coywolves blast through the wilderness of the large, urban park, yipping and barking, jumping and scratching their claws against the concrete jogging paths and over streams and stones. They come upon a deer’s scent, and they track it. They hunt it down, and when it’s surrounded, Rusty leaps into the air and latches his jaws around the deer’s throat. He twists and shakes his body as his teeth rip through the flesh of its neck, severing its wind-pipe and a jugular vein.
The rest of the pack immediately attacks the limbs and underbelly of the deer, and they drag it to the ground. They tear at the deer’s flesh and eat it while it struggles for breath and dies from blood loss. When they’ve had their fill, they drag it farther into the woods of the park. They snuggle up against the carcass and one another and sleep off their great meal.
Rusty naps for a little while. When he wakes up, he looks around at the pack of sleeping canines. He silently trots off, back toward the lights of the city.
“It’s always better to sacrifice your opponent’s men.”
-Savielly Tartakover (1887 – 1956)