by Lea Nolan
Jack and Cooper scramble after me, dodging the herbs and other plants in Miss Delia’s garden.
Squinting at the sky’s harsh silver light, I bellow, “Magnolia Akan! Show yourself now!” The scent of the storm hangs heavy in the air. A cool breeze blows through the garden, swaying the bottles on the tree.
Maggie’s got a lot of explaining to do. After everything I’ve been through today—actually, make that the whole summer—it better be good.
Cooper’s brow knits. “What’s going on?” His voice is tense. “What did you see?”
“What does Maggie have to do with this?” Jack asks. ”And why are you yelling at her? She’s not here.”
My chest heaves as I strive to stay upright. “You’ll see in a second.” My pulse throbs at my temples as I stare at the woods. My finger flicks at the edge of Miss Delia’s note. It’s still wrapped around the knife handle, which feels like it weighs twenty pounds. The inscription is too important to risk losing, so I unravel it and shove it into my pocket.
The trees rustle in the wind. Just as I expected, Maggie emerges from the forest, barefoot and in a flowing white dress, her shoulders thrust back and a broad smile on her face. She approaches with an unmistakable air of calm and dignity. “Congratulations. You have done well, Emma Guthrie.” The scent of stargazer lilies floods the cool air around us.
I fail to see how this is something to celebrate. From where I sit, it’s pretty awful. One half of me wants to run to her, scoop her up in my arms, and console her for all she’s endured, but the smarter half keeps a safe distance. No matter how much sympathy I have for her, I can’t forget that our lives were normal, even boring, until we met her.
Even though my brain is working at half-speed, I’m still quick enough to realize she’s the one who goaded Jack into searching for the treasure. If it wasn’t for her, Jack never would have opened the box and gotten The Creep. His hand and arm would be whole, and instead of conjuring hoodoo spells, I’d be worried about getting close to Cooper on his boat. She couldn’t leave us alone, and now things are beyond freaky. I don’t care what happened to her all those years ago. She can’t be trusted.
I set my jaw. “Thanks, but after the Psychic Vision I just watched, I don’t think I’d be smiling.” My body trembles. I’m talking to a ghost. Even though I know it’s true, it doesn’t seem possible. I scan her flawless face for some evidence of the past, maybe a mark where Bloody Bill punched her, or some other horrendous scar, but there’s nothing. She’s so real, so present, so…alive. How?
Her smile falters, but only slightly. “It was a long time ago. Old wounds heal. Even the worst of them. Eventually you barely notice they exist at all.”
Of course she has to make this all about her. This has all been about her, hasn’t it? She endured something truly evil, but that doesn’t make up for what she’s done to my brother. I scoff and mine every last morsel of energy to confront her. “I’m glad you’ve had plenty of time to get over the trauma. But I doubt Jack barely notices his bony hand and arm, since you know, he hasn’t had almost three centuries to heal.”
Cooper scratches his head. “Um, I’m totally confused.”
Jack nods. “Yeah, Em, you want to clue us in here?”
I cross my arms, careful not to cut myself with the blade. “I wish I could, but it seems Maggie’s been keeping a lot of secrets from us,” I answer, not taking my eyes off her. “Haven’t you, Magnolia?”
The sky tinges green, and a few scant drops of rain fall.
“Hey, take it down a notch, Emo. Just because you’re upset about what happened to Miss Delia doesn’t mean you get to take it out on my girlfriend.” Jack steps to her side, and she clasps his good hand.
“Ha! That’s a good one! Yeah, your girlfriend. Uh-huh. A real, live person who’s honest and trustworthy.” My eyelids droop as I fight to keep them open.
His lip curls. “What’s wrong with you?”
I stagger toward him, ignoring the pain that still burns in my gut. “Wake up, Jack. She’s not what she appears to be. Haven’t you ever noticed how she just arrives and disappears? Or how cold she is?”
He cocks his head. “Huh?”
He doesn’t get it. How can he miss her icy touch? I felt it the split second I hugged her on Dad’s porch. Yet she practically crawls over him, and it’s never occurred to him? Unless…I turn to her. “Or is that something you’ve magically blocked from his mind? That is one of your powers, right? Mind control? That’s how you got Jack to go after the treasure, even though we thought it was a giant waste of time.”
Jack grimaces and rubs his head. “What are you talking about, Emma?”
Cooper reaches for my arm and pulls me back a step. “I hate to say it, Emmaline, but you sound a little crazy,” he whispers in my ear, just loud enough for me to hear over the strengthening breeze.
I yank free of his grasp. “Believe me, I know exactly what’s going on, and so does Maggie. Don’t I?” I struggle to lift the blade and point it at her.
She nods, the broad smile still spread across her face. “I cannot deny that Emma is correct.”
What’s wrong with her? Doesn’t she realize what she’s done to us? To Jack? I don’t care what happened to her, I want to smack that stupid grin right off her face. If I wasn’t about to fall on the ground, I just might.
Cooper’s face falls. “What are you saying?”
“Maggie’s the flower!” My voice echoes across the garden. “The one Bloody Bill’s crew plucked.”
Jack’s lip curls. “What?” He laughs. “You’re insane.” Maggie shudders and rubs her arms at the sound of the pirate’s name. Jack’s eyes widen, and he turns to her. “But…you can’t be the flower.” Her gaze shifts down to her toes. He shakes his head. “That’s…impossible.” His voice trails off as he stares at her.
“No, it’s not,” I answer. “The magnolia tree produces a gorgeous, aromatic flower. You can look it up in any botany book.”
“Who cares about that—Maggie, how?” Jack shivers. He drops her hand and pulls away from her. Finally he must have felt the chill.
Shaking his head, Cooper takes a step back as well. “That means you’re a…” His voice trails off.
She moves toward Jack. “I can explain—”
I lean in, narrowing my gaze. “It better be the truth. I’m sick of your lies.”
She levels her stare at me and juts out her jaw. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Heat boils from my gut, overflowing in rage, giving me the strength to stand my ground. “That’s crap!” I flick my wrist at the ground, sinking the knife deep into the rich soil with one fluid movement. Cooper takes another frightened step back, but Jack just stands there, dazed. I force myself forward to grab hold of his arm. “You had a choice, Maggie! You didn’t have to drag us into your drama. I don’t care what happened to you. It doesn’t make up for what you’ve done to Jack!” I yank up his sleeve, exposing his bones and releasing the God-awful smell of death. “Not very pretty, is it?”
She winces and turns away, but I don’t care. I’m riled up and going for the throat while I still have the energy. “You did this to an innocent person. You know what that means? You’re just as bad as Edmund and those pirates.” The words shoot from my mouth like bullets as I stagger backward, pulling him toward Cooper and me.
She trembles and casts her eyes down. “Emma, you don’t understand. I didn’t want this to happen, but it was the only way.” Her voice is small and weak.
I huff. “Really? You had to hurt my brother? That’s fascinating.”
She nods. “Yes, I needed him, needed all of you. I cannot break the curse by myself.”
I cock my head. “Oh, so now you want to break it. That’s funny, considering you unleashed it on us!”
“Emma!” Her voice booms. “Can’t you see I want to be free?”
Blinded with anger, I prepare to yell some more, but her words register, and I stop short. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I teeter o
n my weary feet.
“My soul cannot pass on until the curse is broken.” Her voice sounds small and desperate.
“How’s that?” Cooper crinkles his brow.
She sighs. “My grandmother Sabina was a powerful root doctress, but she made a tragic mistake. In her rage, she burned my hair with that of the pirate’s, thinking it would condemn him and his crew for my murder, but instead, she forever entwined my fate with the curse.”
So that’s what the black woolly stuff was on the deck of The Dagger. Yet another clue that I missed.
Maggie’s eyes turn down. “So long as The Creep is unbroken, my soul remains here with my spirit on the shores of this island.”
“So you’ve been stuck here for almost three hundred years?” Jack asks.
She purses her lips. “Yes. It has been a very lonely existence.” She reaches out to him, but I shoot her the evil eye, and she drops her hand. I don’t care what happened to her, or how much she needs us. She’s not going to work any more magic on my brother.
Squinting in the dull gray morning light, Cooper drags his fingers through his hair, then raises his hand as if he’s in class. “Hang on. How can your soul pass but your spirit stay behind? Aren’t they the same thing?”
She opens her mouth, but I rush to answer, in case she decides to explain a little too well, using his scenario as an example. He’s having enough trouble absorbing the whole Maggie reveal—finding out about his own soul’s impending departure would probably kill him. And then he’d kill me. “The Gullah believe the soul passes on when the body dies, but the spirit stays behind to help its loved ones.”
She flashes a wry grin. “You have learned much about the Gullah, Emma Guthrie. The Grannie has taught you well.”
“Thanks,” I snap, unmoved by her compliment. “But you haven’t explained why you needed to hurt Jack to free your soul.”
Her shoulders sink. “The curse is too powerful to break on my own. I have tried, believe me, but it is impossible.” She looks off toward the bottle tree and blinks. “I came close once, more than a hundred years ago, with a human assistant. He worked a powerful charm, one I was certain would work, but was missing the key ingredient, and at the last moment, it failed. He was severely injured, and the first High Point Bluff was destroyed.” She shuts her eyes and shakes away the images.
Jack breaks out of his stupor. “So that’s all I am, your assistant?” His voice cracks as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
She nods. “You all are.”
The magic’s effects dissipate enough to allow me to plant my hands on my hips. “Um, maybe you don’t understand the concept, but you’re supposed to guide your assistant, not kill him.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “I have been guiding you, every step of the way.”
Jack’s olive cheeks flush magenta. “Really? How? Because so far, all I can see is how you got me jacked up.”
“I brought you to the Grannie”—she takes a small step toward him—“and you found my grandmother’s mortar easily, did you not? Did you think it was a coincidence that it remained on Sa’leenuh all this time?” She points to the dagger handle sticking out of the ground. “And that knife, the one that has allowed your sister to see into the past.” She hitches her brow. “Cooper might have overlooked it at the museum, had I not helped him see it.” Then she turns to me. “And you, Emma, may never have picked it up without my urging.”
My mind flashes back to how my hand itched and burned, and how badly I needed the cooling touch of the polished knife handle. “But I thought my spirit guide made me take it.”
She scoffs. “She is far more subtle than that. I had to be forceful to ensure you took it. You needed to see all it could show you.” She raises her brow and shoots me a knowing look. “Everything it knew. So you can right what is wrong.”
I gulp. The Beaumont curse. She’s right. If Miss Delia and I hadn’t worked a psychic charm on the knife, we’d never have known how the curse was created, and I wouldn’t have a chance to save him.
I ball my fists, reminding myself to stay strong and not lose sight of what’s important. “You lured us into finding the treasure.” I already know it’s true, but I need to hear her admit it.
She nods. “Yes. I saw you and your brother on the beach that morning and was certain you were the right ones to break the curse.”
Cooper shakes his head. “Even though you knew it was laced with The Creep, and at least one of us would get it?”
She swallows. “How else could I motivate you to help break it?”
My brow crinkles. “Um, how about just asking?”
She bats her long black lashes. “Ask? Really, Emma, humans are not as accommodating as you wish to believe.”
Jack shakes his head. “No, she’s right. We would’ve helped you. I’m sure of it.”
She scoffs. “Why? Because of my beauty?”
“Uh,” he scratches his scalp, seeming a little embarrassed, “I can’t deny that would have helped. You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.” His cheek raises in a half-smile. “But that’s not why we would’ve helped you. We’d have done it because you needed it.”
She laughs ruefully. “Ha! And you would have believed I was dead, and my claims about a vicious, flesh-eating curse?”
He nods. “Yeah. I think we would have.”
She mashes her lips together and bats back a tear. “I wish I could believe that, but I have had too much experience with humans. And too much disappointment.”
Jack sets his jaw. “So rather than trust us, and tell us the truth, you manipulated us —manipulated me—instead.”
She stiffens. “Yes. I am sorry, but it was the most expedient thing to do.”
Cooper puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Well, I hope you’re satisfied. He’s my best friend, as close to a brother as I’ve got. Thanks to you, he might die.”
She shakes her head. “No, he won’t. Emma has been an excellent student. She will set things right. I am sure of it.”
I cross my arms. “Um, I’m not sure if you’re up to speed on things, but Miss Delia was attacked by a pack of plateyes this morning.” The gruesome image of Miss Delia lying under the bottle tree, bloody, torn, and unconscious, flashes across my mind, choking me up. I wince and force back tears. “She’s barely alive. Hopefully she made it to the hospital, and they can save her.” My lip quivers.
She nods. “The curse demands many sacrifices.”
“What?” The words burst from my mouth. “She didn’t deserve to be mauled by a bunch of hellhounds! She was only trying to help me save Jack!” My voice breaks. “How can you be so coldhearted?”
“Because I have faith in you and know all will be well. For Jack. For the Grannie. For everyone who is doomed because of what happened so many years ago. You can do it, Emma. I am sure you can.”
Great, no pressure there. Now on top of trying to save Jack and Cooper from two completely different curses, Miss Delia’s fate and Maggie’s soul get thrown into the mix. Hasn’t anyone noticed I don’t know what the heck I’m doing?
My cheeks flush, and my temples throb from the impossible stress. I rub my pounding forehead. “How can you say that? I’m only an apprentice. I can’t do this alone.” Aside from being dead, she’s nuts.
She waves me off. “Nonsense. I have shown you everything you need to break the curse. Be resourceful, and you will succeed.”
“No, you haven’t.” I shake my frazzled head, tired of her cryptic crap. “We’re still missing the most important piece. I’m pretty sure Miss Delia was working on it when she got attacked.” I snatch Miss Delia’s note from my pocket and charge toward Maggie, slapping it into her hand. Cold jolts my fingers, shooting straight through my flesh and into my bones. She’s more frigid than I remember. My hand snaps backward.
She opens the crumpled note and scans the cryptic words. “What is this?”
“You tell me. Sabina said it when she cast The Creep, but Miss Delia had no idea what it
meant.”
Jack and Cooper lean toward Maggie. “What’s it say?” Jack asks.
She chuckles. “My grandmother was very dramatic. This is ancient Akan. It means, ‘I bind the blood of the sun and the moon, the day and the night, to bring you darkness and shorten your life.’”
The guys recoil, but I knit my brow and hold my ground. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “I cannot say.”
“You can’t say, or you won’t say?”
She smiles. “My grandmother based many of her spells on nature, just like your Grannie. Rest assured, it is the key to reversing the curse.”
That’s the worst non-answer answer I’ve ever heard. She hands me the note, and her icy fingers graze mine, sending a frozen shiver up my arm.
I shake off the chill and stuff the note back into my pocket. “Well, that’s just awesome, considering I’m just as clueless as before you translated it. Thanks for nothing.”
“It will come to you. I am sure of it. Listen to your spirit guide.” She tilts her head toward Jack. “If I am right, and Emma succeeds in reversing the curse, will you ever find a way to forgive me?”
His shoulders sink. “I don’t know.” His voice is small and sad. “I didn’t deserve this.” He lifts his gloved hand.
Her eyes fill with contrition. “No, Jack Guthrie, you didn’t. And you didn’t deserve to suffer the headaches, either, but they are an unfortunate side effect of being influenced.”
He gapes and clutches his skull. “That was you?” She nods, and he shakes his head. “Thanks for telling me. I guess. It’s nice to know I don’t have a brain tumor.” Then he squares his shoulders. “I hope Emma can break the curse, but if she can’t”—he swallows hard and clears his throat—“my whole arm will be gone soon, and then, God knows whether it’ll hit my chest or my head next, or maybe both at the same time. I don’t think I can live with my guts spilling out of my abdomen.” He shakes his head and swallows again, but it doesn’t stop the tear from running down his cheek. “You might have killed me.”