by Ainsley Shay
“How are you, young lad?” asked Mr. Yves.
“Fine sir. But I think the question is how are you?” Peter was, most of the time, a dweeb with me, but when it came to Mr. Yves, he was the poster child for Respect Your Elders.
Mr. Yves stood a little taller when he said, “Never felt better.” Peter may not have noticed the tiny wince he made, but it didn’t get by me.
“Good to hear,” said Peter. He turned his attention to me. “Here, this is for you.” He handed me a small package. It was square, smaller than a shoebox, and weighed hardly anything.
“It’s not my birthday.”
“I don’t know what it’s for. Some lady stopped me on my way here and told me she’d pay me a hundred bucks if I delivered it to you.”
I almost dropped it. A body part that Adelina had the pleasure of cutting off some poor soul was the first thing I imagined unwrapping. “Are you insane?”
He fumbled with a laugh. “No, jobless.”
I thrust it at him. “Take it back.” The switchblades in my stomach opened and twisted.
He held up his hands. “She made it very clear there was a no return policy.”
“Who’s she? What did she look like?” My shaking hands held the box.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know her name. She had on a hat and dark, big bug-eye sunglasses. What’s the difference?”
Mr. Yves took the package from me. He smiled and asked, “Peter, are you looking for anything special today? I got in a few new books about time travel and the Ruins.” He put his arm around Peter’s shoulder, guided him toward the box of new books and away from me.
I texted Chandler and told him about the box.
Chandler: DON’T OPEN IT!!
Me: DUH
Chandler: B there soon
Me: K
My curiosity was only slightly elevated as to what was in the box. My fear, however, had escalated to dangerous levels. The box was wrapped in plain brown shipping paper. I examined it as if I stared long and hard enough, I’d be able to use X-ray vision to see its contents. I glanced up. Peter was only half listening to Mr. Yves. The other half of his attention was on me. He watched me intently. He, more than I, probably, wanted to know what was in the box and was wondering why I hadn’t opened it yet.
After what seemed like forever, but was probably only ten minutes later, Peter bought a book. As Mr. Yves finished the transaction, I saw Chandler getting out of his car. I had hoped, for Peter’s sake, he’d be gone by the time Chandler arrived. If the color red supposedly was the color of rage, then so was black and white, because that’s what I registered on Chandler’s face. On his way into the shop, he and Peter passed each other.
“Chandler, how are you, son?”
Something inside of Chandler clicked. Ignoring Mr. Yves, he jerked around and grabbed Peter by his shirt before Peter even had a chance to reach for the door handle. “I’ll be better once I know what’s in the box.”
Stunned, Peter didn’t try to fight. Besides, Chandler was at least six inches taller than Peter, and a lot stronger; it would have been futile for him to even attempt to. Peter stammered, “What the—”
“Is this our delivery man?” Not surprised by Chandler’s reaction, I nodded. He pulled Peter through the bookshop, to the club chair in the center of the store. “Sit.”
Peter had. “Dude, I don’t know what your problem is, but—”
I went to the front of the store and locked the door; we were officially closed for the remainder of the day. Mr. Yves wasn’t one for violence, especially in his store, but since this involved my well being, he was handling Chandler’s outburst quite well by standing off to the side as an observer. It also helped that he trusted Chandler with my life.
“Where is it?” Chandler demanded with his dagger-like glare still on Peter.
Carefully, I set the box on the table next to the club chair.
Peter scooted away from the package. “There’s not a bomb in there, is there?”
“Chandler, don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him?” asked Mr. Yves.
“No, Mr. Yves, I don’t. Who takes a box from a stranger, unless it wasn’t a stranger—”
“I’ve never seen her before in my life. I swear!” said Peter.
“Then back to your question...”
“Peter,” I filled in the blank.
Chandler picked up the package. “Peter, we don’t know what’s in it. So, yes, there may possibly be a bomb in it.”
Chandler was using the situation to teach Peter a lesson: dirty jobs usually didn’t have happy endings. I shook my head and closed my eyes. The chances of a bomb were far less than a body part.
“Iris, come on.” Chandler started for the back of the store. I followed. He turned and pointed at Peter. “Don’t move.”
Once we were both in the back storeroom Chandler set the box on the desk. “Come here.” He pulled me into a hug. “You okay?”
“A little freaked out. All I can think of is whose pinky finger is in there.”
He chuckled. “Let’s hope that’s all it is.” I slapped his chest, not liking the sound of that. “I’m kidding,” he replied as he laughed. But I wasn’t persuaded enough to laugh along with him.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah.” He picked up the box and un-taped the sides. Then slid his finger under the flat edge of the tape. The thick paper unfolded, revealing a plain, light-colored box.
“It’s pink,” he said.
“Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled off the rest of the paper. Looking at me he asked, “Ready?”
“Not really.”
He snorted. “Then, here goes nothing.” He lifted the lid off the box. A note sat on top of tissue paper. The handwriting was small neat, curved lines. Chandler read it aloud. “Thought you might want this.” The note was signed with a C. Not C.W.
“Carina?” I questioned.
He shrugged. “Maybe.” Peeling back the thin paper, he reached inside to pick up the contents.
When he handed me what was inside, I knew it was from Carina. Her experience with Adelina, like mine, had left her yearning for someone she desperately wanted to have back in her life, her daughter. She knew, understood, and felt my pain. I took the brooch Chandler held out to me; the one that had been my mother’s favorite all those years ago. It hadn’t lain dormant in a pawnshop. It had been lying in wait for the perfect time to torture me.
27
The timing of Catherine’s arrival to Skelside could not have been worse.
Last entry, 19 March 1568 ~
When I woke, my body felt strong and more alive than I had ever felt. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins at a wicked speed. My skin was hot to the touch, and I wondered if it would stay like this, or cool. The scents of porcelain and fresh linens were heavy in the air. When I stood, my feet felt like they were barely touching the floor. I felt lighter and full of energy. The mirror above the basin reflected the statue of a man that I had run into in the village. He was lost and weak as he wandered the streets for food. I brought him back to my quarters, gave him something to eat, and then stabbed him to end his worthless life. Possibly, after the Lord had me join him at his side tonight, I would release the poor man’s soul from the stone and let him be my servant.
My face felt smooth as I ran the tips of my fingers over my cheek. I went to the mirror and gazed into it. I was stunning. The Lord’s blood had done a beautiful job. He would be pleased. Quickly, I dressed in the deep royal blue gown he had made for me for this exact occasion. The fabric was soft and cool against my skin. I left my hair loose around my shoulders.
I smoothed the front of the dress and started for the dining hall. Several guards bowed as I passed, and already I felt my power as Skelside’s Lady Darenfys, settling in. Overhead, I could hear the hot wax drip from the candles onto the chandelier. Two guards opened the large door
to the dining hall. Like a breeze, I strolled in. I almost doubled over when I saw the sight before me.
“What have we here?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could manage.
The girl who sat across from the Lord was picturesque. Her golden hair was the opposite of my fiery locks. The torches glowed on her perfect cheekbones. Her eyes were as colorless and bright as a star in the night’s sky.
“Ah, my dear, you have awoken.” Lord Darenfys stood and came to me. “You are stunning.” He twirled me, and my dress followed in a tight circle of blue, the color of a sky at dusk.
Ignoring the gnawing in my gut at seeing the girl in my seat at our table, I said, “My Lord.” I bowed. “Now, we have forever; I, as your beloved witch, and you, as my Lord and my maker. Together, we will have everything.”
Lord Darenfys tilted his head and looked quizzically into my eyes. “There have been a few changes while you were in transition.”
I glared at the girl. She recoiled and fidgeted in the chair. “Changes?” With lightning speed, I closed the distance between the girl and me. I raised her chin with one of my fingers. She was so still she could have been one of my statues. I studied her. My mind was already racing with ways for revenge. “Is this the change that I sense?”
Lord Darenfys answered, “She is.”
I quickly turned back to him. Hatred flared from every pore. “I hope you’re happy living in a gray world. You fool.”
The Lord’s intake of breath was an audible pause in the room. No one moved. His exhale was even louder. He knew I had him. Over the time I’ve been here, I’ve been careful as not to divulge all of my secrets of the things I have learned. “We’ll just leave little Rex to continue to guard the well, and the curse on the maze to protect what you will never have again.”
“Adelina,” the Lord cooed, “you do not want to be this cruel, it’s not in your blood.”
I looked at him as if he were the devil himself, and straightened with the power I felt coursing through me. “I have your blood racing through my veins.”
Lord Darenfys cowered back. He was like one of my subjects to bend and break as I wished. “You do,” he agreed. “Immortality, The Fallen, and the blood of a hundred men.”
The shriek of my laughter could be heard past the hills. “Along with my own gifted blood. You have given me exactly what I wanted, well, almost. You also, could have had everything that you desired, but you failed me.” I glanced back at the girl, “Just as she has failed you.” I backed away. I pointed my slender, dagger-like finger in the Lord’s direction. “I would curse you into stone, but that would be too pleasant for my tastes.”
He dared to take an unwise step. I tapped my long finger against my lips as I thought about how to address the situation. “I could curse you with love.” I paused and froze when the idea hit me. I smiled, pleased with myself. I walked around the massive table, tapping my finger on my lips. “Ah yes, love.” The girl’s colorless eyes were sliding from me and back to the Lord. I almost felt sorry for the helpless thing, but not quite. “May I just say that I am brilliant?” I stopped in front of the girl. “Love. I have felt that undeniable wretched feeling that burns like salt poured over a raw wound.”
I slid the carving knife from my waistband and raised it in the air. I wasn’t sure if it was the room swimming, or my head from the power of the rage flooding through me. The carving knife’s stone glowed at my command, and I pointed it at Lord Darenfys. I kept my voice low and steady as I concentrated, “I, the rightful one to this fortress, bind you to this child with love,” I pointed the knife at the girl, “as she is bound to you with hatred. For life, for death, forever.”
I seared the mark of the carving knife into her flesh. The stone that hung from her necklace glowed with all of the captured colors she would never see again. She would forever be reborn until she reached the exact age she is today. That day she would be primed to kill Lord Darenfys and carry out my revenge on him. What’s worse than being killed by the one you love and pine for day after day, as they despise you?
The knife’s stone faded and the room calmed to the way it had been before I entered.
“What have you done?” roared Lord Darenfys.
I turned to face him and smiled. “A curse so perfect, nothing can reverse it.”
“Guard, take that witch away,” ordered the Lord.
As the guard approached me, I held up the knife. “No need, I’ll escort myself out.” My laughter was a living thing as I glanced up into the dome. The dome that had once impressed me, I now thought was a sign of weakness and shame.
The truth was so deadly it bit into my flesh.
Without finishing the entry and barely able to breathe, I yelled for Chandler.
“What? God, I was having the most amazing dream.” Ticked that I woke him, his voice was flat and had the edge of this better be good. He threw off the blanket, came to the bed, and crashed face first onto it.
I could barely get the words out, as my brain processed the unimaginable. And I wondered why I hadn’t realized this before. “She’s using me.”
“Who’s using you?” he muffled.
“Adelina.”
“We know that.”
I rolled him over. He let out a puff of putrid bad breath. I turned away to reclaim a fresh one. When I looked back at him, his eyes were open. “I’m her weapon for revenge. I’m the only one who can kill Lord Darenfys.”
“What are you talking about?” I read him the date of the entry. His eyes narrowed. “March 19th is only 6 days away.”
“That’s what the dagger is for, isn’t it?”
He sat up, fully awake. “Holy shit. She’s planned this revenge for over five hundred years. You’re so close, she’s not going to let this moment in time pass by. She will do everything in her power to make sure you follow through with the curse.”
My stomach was already lurching, now it was caving in on itself. “Chandler?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
“If you weren’t, I’d have you committed.”
Breathing was difficult and I lay down. I thought of Blacwin, and how he’d traveled to another part of the world to kill someone for me, to give me peace and to keep me safe. Adelina was the only one who could keep me safe, at least until I killed Darenfys—if I could manage to kill the Lord. Then, what would she do with me?
28
I was a tool.
Sleep was not in the cards tonight—the sun was on the verge of making an appearance. Chandler lay next to me and had an easier time finding unconsciousness. After hours of trying to calm the fear and anxiety fueling the impossibility of the truth, I finally built up the courage to read the rest of the final entry.
19 March 1568, continued
Skelside was behind me. I had left all of my beloved statues and the fallen angel I loved, forever cursed. Though before I left, I made two final visits. The first was to Lord Darenfys’ chamber while he was taken for his bath. His adored dagger sat on the bedside table. I picked it up by the hilt and grinned as I held it in my hand. His most prized weapon would be the one to end him. I put it in my bag. Sliding my fingers over the deep red silk quilt, I was stricken with sadness that I would never share this bed with him.
The second place I visited was the maze where the medallion lay in the bottom of the well. I released Rex from his guard duty and retrieved the bucket from the well. I tucked the medallion into my satchel.
As I walked toward the forest, I was struck with a thought, if I had learned nothing else, I had mastered that hatred can crush every other feeling, even love.
I closed the journal for the last time. So many questions had been answered. I was exhausted from the lack of sleep, but more so, from the cumbersome weight of those answers and what was in store for me in the very near future: 5 days to be exact. I had been born and reborn to commit murder. The thought sickened me to no end. Nothing could have prepared me for the truth. The substance of those answers was as dark, ev
il, and terrifying as anything I’d read that was fiction. I was cursed to kill. The thought nagged and warped my insides from all directions. I had only a few days to bask in my freedom.
My phone chirped, reminding me of an event: Snow’s Birthday. I’d been so caught up with everything else, I had forgotten.
I wondered if Chandler knew it was Snow’s birthday. Knowing her, she probably told him at least once a day for the past two weeks. I sent Marley at the vintage store a text last week asking her to order a charm for Snow’s Doc Martens. It wasn’t going to be available until May. But with Marley’s connections, she was able to get it earlier.
“Hey, rise and shine,” I whispered in Chandler’s ear.
He groaned. “Go away.”
I smashed a pillow on him. He grabbed it and pulled it tight over his head. “It’s Snow’s birthday today. I really hope you’re prepared because if you’re not—you’re in for it.”
He took the pillow off his head and turned over. In a raspy voice he said, “I’ll have you know that I am very prepared.”
Surprised, I asked, “What did you get her?”
“None of your business.”
“I didn’t think you’d tell me, just thought I’d give it a shot.”
School was a must today. I had two tests and a paper due. It was the last day of the quarter; it was also the last day of school before spring break. I had Chandler stop at the store before picking up Snow so I could get her some balloons. It wasn’t every day your best friend turned eighteen. She had been incredibly supportive of me through this whole effed-up situation. It was my fault we weren’t out partying for her eighteenth. I told her I’d make it up to her once all this was past us. We planned to have a mini party tonight at my apartment to celebrate, mini as in Snow, Chandler, and me. Her mom was throwing a big party for her tomorrow with family and a few friends.