Cursefell

by C. V. Dreesman

  The hands that cupped mine felt greasy and smelled faintly like a sprig of mint. I wanted to shiver, disgusted.

  "Nathera. Heir to the first. What a pleasure." He had a leering smile. I guess it wasn't impossible to like him any less. "You must have many questions. You will come with me after I tend to your mother."

  "Excuse me?"

  "There is much you need to learn. We shall instruct you."

  "I don't even know you," I told him, slipping my hand out of his grip. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Ah, well now. Call me Mister Rail. You have been told the way of things, have you not?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Ah, well then. As you have inherited the gift of the first, you are subject to rules set forth by the conclave of the magi."

  "The Circle?"

  "Just so. The Circle. A council of human wizards and witches charged with enforcing laws protecting magic and human interactions." He waited for me to respond, but I gave away nothing. "A covenant exists between the heirs to the first and the Circle. There are rules you must follow being, well, being what you are."

  "Really."

  "To be sure. To ignore them would be less than good for you."

  "Less than good for me. Like becoming some sort of monster is better than good?" I mocked him. Maybe not the smartest thing to do when the situation you find yourself in could be dangerous, but this authoritarian attitude rankled me.

  "Even monsters have masters, dear girl."

  "Well I didn't sign any contract or covenant with your council. And I didn't elect anyone either," I spat sarcasm in response.

  "You're feisty, sure enough. But have a care now." The drop in his tone was a warning.

  "Same to you."

  "You may have not voted for us, and what a quaint notion that is," he chuckled. It was haughty and mocking. The sound of security bloomed from the powerful without limits. "but those who have magic fall under the Circle's laws. Your mother being one. She has no choice. Neither do you, as heir."

  "We all have a choice."

  "That is the great lie fools tell themselves," he said, bowing his head. When he raised it again it was with a smile that any true snake might wear.

  "You will come with me when I am done here. It has been decreed by the Circle."

  "As I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

  "I'm afraid you mistake that for a request," he said, a hand darting out to grab my arm.

  The stranger's hand never touched me. Galead had appeared out of nowhere, snatching the man's wrist before he could grab hold of me. Tristan was there too, on the other side. The bigger brother angled his body between us, shielding me with his own body. The man in the dark suit looked from one of them to the other. You didn't have to be good at reading people to see that he was angry.

  "You know who I am. What must be done will not be denied," the stranger growled at them.

  "I see who you are. Even better, I know what you are," Galead told him and then dropped his hold on his arm. "Take care of her mother. That's all you are here to do."

  The man looked at us all, anger still showing, but he relented when the brothers refused to back down.

  "For now," he said. Tristan escorted, or maybe herded is a better word for it, him down the hall and into the room where my mother stayed.

  Concerned as I was, Galead would not let me enter her room. He would only say the stranger was skilled at healing, if lacking social skills, and that she was in good hands, reminding me that his brothers would watch over them both.

  "Fine. You keep your secrets. Don't trust me."

  "I do trust you, Thera. But..."

  "Creepy guy's secrets are not yours to share? Yah, you have said that before. What about you then? Let me guess, you can't tell me why you are involved in all this, even though you promised."

  "I..."

  "Whatever. I don't want to hear it. You know, at some point you are going to have to choose to be honest or to lie. You are going to have to help me or not." I jingled the house keys sitting in my pocket. He had made me so mad I needed to get out. "I'm going home. I've got to get my mom's book."

  "I will get you whatever she needs."

  "No. I'm going. It beats sitting around here waiting for whoever he is to get done with whatever he is doing to my mom."

  Galead grabbed the keys to his car from the counter. He insisted on driving at least. I exhaled loudly in a big pouty huff, but he didn't budge when I told him I didn't want his help.

  "Fine, fine. I need to grab something. I'll meet you outside."

  "Don't disturb your mother," he warned me, wagging a finger.

  "I won't," I told him, adding when he arched an eyebrow. "I swear I won't."

  Somewhat satisfied, Galead went out the front door. As soon as the handle clicked shut I rushed to open the hidden panel leading downstairs to the cells below. Calling Isabel's name, her voice floated up in the echo of a response. In less than a minute (she must have sprinted up the stairs) Isabel had joined me in the kitchen. She gulped down a tall glass of water and grabbed a bag filled with baked potato chips before following me outside.

  "What are you doing?" Galead demanded, practically leaping out of the idling car when he saw Isabel in tow. "She isn't going anywhere."

  "She's coming," was all I said before sliding into the passenger seat.

  Galead remained standing outside, fuming for a long minute before getting back in. He slammed the door, gunned the engine, and then we were speeding down the driveway. The wheels kicked up a hail of loose dirt and rocks that pinged the undercarriage before the tires gripped the pavement on the proper highway, leaving smoldering streaks of blackened frustration in our wake.

  We drove in silence because, really, what was there to talk about between a mermaid, a human being, and whatever I was?

  When we pulled up to my house I could feel acute anxiety knotting up my insides. True, Isabel was with me, and Galead too, so I wasn't expecting any surprises like last time. And yet I could not help wanting to turn back, tell Galead to just drive away. As I sat there staring I didn't notice my companions had gathered outside the car until Galead opened my door. After a slight pause, my hand slid into his offered palm, the strong warm skin comforting in a way I had missed in the last few days without even realizing it was missing.

  Galead balanced me as I stood up in more ways than I could possibly express. Guilt washed over me about this morning and the coolness with which I had treated him. Looking up at him, I noticed the hard mask his face had held on the drive here was replaced with a worried look, making it even worse. Without words being spoken between us his arm encircled my shoulders and I allowed myself to nestle against him. Closing my eyes I pressed a hand against his chest and let the beats count against it.

  An impatient Isabel cleared her throat rather loudly.

  "Thank you. For saving me, I mean." My voice fell quietly into his shirt. "For saving my mom."

  "That's twice you know," he whispered back and I heard the amusement in his voice.

  I couldn't stop the smile blooming on my lips.

  "Thanks twice then. I owe you."

  "You don't owe me anything, Thera." Galead spoke very softly, almost too soft for me to hear. "I will always be there when you need me. I will always be there to save you."

  "Even from myself?"

  "From yourself or others."

  "Promise?" the words were trembling as they came out.

  "I swear it," he swore somberly.

  Isabel coughed again, so vehemently I thought she was going to hurt herself, and tapped her foot loudly.

  "Hey Romeo. Juliet. Are we going inside or are you going to stand out here cuddling all day for everyone to see? Because I got to tell you, cuddling is not much of a show."

  We shared a laugh, breaking apart. Isabel did not find it funny. Her arms were crossed, foot tapping madly in annoyance. She probably thought it was to her advantage if Galead and I weren't getting along.

  "Alright. Keep your
fins on," Galead deadpanned.

  A true belly laugh burst from me as Isabel scowled at him. My anxious feeling was expelled with it. Suddenly the morning seemed bright again, less heavy and oppressive. It seemed like such a long time since I had really laughed at anything. Even my home looked inviting once again. It certainly did not frighten the old crow sunning itself on top of the shingles. Its feathers were the shade of dark bruises, gleaming in the little light peeking out from behind the coastal clouds. Two red eyes glowed in dark sockets, staring down at me. The crow did not move, not even to cock its head, as we stood looking at each other. The longer I looked, the larger the crow actually seemed, until I thought it would pop. That anxious feeling was coming back.

  "Galead." I turned, plucked at his sleeve.

  "What?

  Turning back, I pointed a finger at the unusual bird. But it was gone. It had disappeared from sight in a blink. Scanning the roof, the sky, and those thick branches grown from the oldest oaks, the crow had vanished. Not even a dark speck in the distance or a blot in the sky betrayed its location.

  "Thera?" Galead looked concernedly at me.

  "I saw something I think. A big crow. It was watching us from the roof. It had red eyes, strange eyes." Both of them were staring. I didn't blame them. It sounded stupid to me too. "Never mind. I must have been imagining it. It was nothing."

  Apparently it was enough for Galead and Isabel to share a serious look between them. Galead unlocked the car trunk, scanning the sky and the roof of my home, before raising the lid fully open. Isabel and I joined him at the back of the car when he beckoned us over.

  Galead slung a long handled sword across his back in one practiced motion. He adjusted the black sheath with the leather strap crossing his chest before handing me a short dagger. My involuntary recoil brought half a smile to his face. I didn't doubt that a chuckle at my expense was close behind.

  "Unless you can use your gift at will, you need to take this," he said, balancing it on an open palm, offering it to me.

  "Why do we need these?" I asked.

  "Just in case," he replied.

  Worried some neighbor might notice our little band arming themselves with obsolete weapons and report us, I grabbed the dagger. It slid into my waist like it belonged there all along. The sweater pulled down to perfectly cover it. I only briefly stopped to wonder why he had a fracking sword and other obsolete weapons sitting in his trunk. And wouldn't something modern, say like a gun, be better?

  Galead hesitated midway to closing the trunk. Sighing in resignation, he took out another dagger. It was the exact twin to mine.

  "Isabel." He held it out for her.

  Isabel took it from him. She turned it over in her hands as if studying the blade for flaws, then tossed it back into the trunk.

  "That one is nice," she told him. She reached down, bent at the waist, and pulled up her pant leg. Tucked into her boot, the ornate handle of the dagger Galead had brought into the cells the day before clearly showed. "But I like this one better."

  "Let's get this done." Galead, scarlet with the embarrassment of having forgotten the weapon, stomped past. Isabel winked my way before following with a happy skip to her step.

  Once the door was unlocked Galead took our point position. He held the hilt of the sword cupped in his palm as it rode upon his back. It kept the weapon from making noise should he knock it against a wall or anything else. To keep it ready to draw as well I guessed. I watched him move slowly, cushioning his steps to silence. Angling his body from right to left with each step, Galead looked like some great lion stalking its prey. Balancing on the balls of my feet and mimicking him as closely as I could, I made even less sound than he did. Isabel, who had failed to abduct me from this same house several nights before, brought up the rear.

  The air was stale. As if it had not circulated in awhile. I could imagine this same air as the one lingering witness to that night Isabel had been an intruder. It may well have been, but it hung listless with bittersweet scents and laced with lemony chemicals as well. The brothers had come here and cleaned up the broken glass and the shattered plates to keep appearances normal to unwelcome eyes. I noticed the new dishes and the broken chair they had replaced. They must have sprayed something to neutralize the ever present bloom of incense as well, for I did not smell it now. I was surprised at how much I missed it.

  Stale, scrubbed, antiseptic, and another smell assailed me. Inhaling as deeply as I could, that elusive vapor escaped identification. My tongue darted out as Medusa's tongue had done in the dream. I don't know why I did it, but it worked. Filtering the scents around me, tasting them in some fashion until I had it. It tasted of metal, sharp and tangy, as it lay on my tongue. Isabel grabbed me as I suddenly stumbled. Thankfully she had been close behind.

  The scent or taste or whatever it was brought back vivid reminders of that night. Isabel shouting too late for her cat's-paw to stop the knife from stabbing my mother. I had smelled it then. That metallic smell was the remnant from her wounding. I was tasting the scent of her blood.

  "I have to sit down," I said to no one in particular, while forgetting to speak quietly.

  They guided me to the couch in my living room. It was soft and sunken in from years of use. I found it comforting.

  "Sorry. It was too much," I told them. "I'm...it was...I will be alright. Just give me a minute."

  "Isabel, check upstairs for any unwanted guests. I will stay with Thera."

  She gave my arm a tight little squeeze before heading upstairs. Any surprise we might have had was already lost if anyone was laying in wait for us. Isabel did not try to hide her presence anymore. Neither did Galead as he fetched some water. I drank it greedily. Only a small amount dribbled down my chin.

  "Thanks."

  "More?"

  "No. I'm good." He didn't look like he believed me. "I was just remembering that night. My mom."

  He did not need to know about the new ability to taste the air. It was bad enough it was a reminder to me that I was slowly becoming some sort of creature. That I was not normal. I didn't want him to be reminded too.

  "The two men with Isabel. Did I...what happened to them?" it was the first time I forced myself to face what had been done to them.

  "Tristan and I took care of them."

  His answer was terse. I didn't want to push him, but I was responsible for what had happened to them. I had to know the truth.

  "Did I kill them?"

  "No," he snapped, regretted it, and took hold of my hand. "No. You turned them, accidentally I remind you, to stone. That in itself is not death. They were still alive."

  "How is that possible?" even though they had hurt my mother I hoped that it was possible. Didn't I?

  "Medusa was cursed with the power to turn her victims to stone. They can't move or see, but they live in a sort of suspended state. Living statues with nothing save their own thoughts for company for all eternity."

  "So if this thing happens again, if I lose control, I don't kill with a look?"

  "That depends on your notion of death. Is the slow erosion of the mind trapped within a stone body life? How long will it take for sanity to slip into madness when you live wholly cut off, alone, and unable to reach out to another?"

  I was shifting uncomfortably with the voiceless suffering my thoughts were conjuring. Somewhere, very faintly though, another voice was whispering. I would not listen, I would not.

  "Sometimes," he said, as if sensing the turmoil I was experiencing, "whether some condition renders them brittle enough so a strong wind will blow them into piles of dust or through acts of mercy or malice, the statue is broken. Then it ends. Do not take this lightly, Thera. There are those sworn to destroy each statue resulting from the curse to protect their secrets. That includes the Medusa bloodline and its existence."

  "Either way, then, I am responsible." He didn't answer, which of course was an answer in itself.

  "It is the curse that is responsible," Isabel said, returning from sc
outing the upstairs. "It is your nature now to do these things, it's true. But you can use it how you want if you learn to control it."

  "How?" I barely kept the desire from my voice. I was on the verge of desperation. There was only one person in the world I wished such reckless harm to. That person was nothing but a shadowy figure for now, but one day I would find the person responsible for my father's death and demand that they pay.

  "I will teach you when we get back to his place," she promised. "In exchange for a few concessions."

  Galead looked from Isabel to me. He reluctantly nodded his agreement.

  "Great. The upstairs is clear by the way. Nothing waiting for us up there."

  "What do you need?" he asked me.

  I rambled off the description.

  "Oh, my art sculpture project too."

  Isabel threw up her hands when Galead fixed those eyes of his on her. He didn't need to say a thing, just give her a stern look, until she caved.

  "Fine. Where are they Thera?"

  "My mom said the book was in her closet. And the sculpture is in a box next to my bed. I'll help."

  "I think Isabel has got this. Right?"

  Isabel gave me a smile.

  "Yeah. No problem. I'll take care of it." She hurried up the stairs for a second time, but not before sticking out her tongue at Galead.

  When she disappeared down the upstairs hallway, Galead sat down beside me.

  "Don't trust her too much. Remember, she tried to kidnap you. She is the reason your mother is hurt."

  "I know. But her reason makes sense. And she has answers I need, answers she is willing to give." I forestalled whatever he was about to say when I laid my hand against his chest. "I need to think. I haven't decided anything yet. Just give me some time, okay?"

  "You will have time. And I know you will make your own decision," he paused before nudging me. "Why did you bring her with us anyway?"

  "I thought we needed a chaperone," I joked.

  He laughed. So did I. It was good to hear him laugh, really laugh. I don't think I had ever heard it before. The sound was somehow musical.