by J. Stone
“We don’t have bed for you, but we have blankets,” she said, dropping them onto the ground. “We lay them down next to fire. It should keep you warm.”
Wynonna smiled. “I think that should be fine. Given how much I slept in the desert, I’m used to forgoing a mattress.”
“Anything else we can give you?” Magnus asked.
“One last drink?” Wynonna replied, holding up the glass and smiling at him.
“This, I can do,” he said, taking the glass. He filled it up with the vodka they’d nearly finished and gave it back to Wynonna. “Sleep well.”
“You too,” she said.
As Wynonna started to drink the rest of her vodka, Magnus and Anya retired to their bedroom, leaving her to sit there in front of the fire alone. She wasn’t eager to get to sleep given what was waiting for her, but after a while, she couldn’t fight it anymore. She drank the last of the vodka, set the glass aside, and laid out the blankets.
***
The green mist that had visited Wynonna the previous night returned as she slept on the blankets in front of the Volkovs’ fireplace. It had stayed with her throughout the day, waiting dormant inside her. The fog was not through with her yet though.
Wynonna’s eyes flashed open, that same shade of green reflecting off them. In her mind, she thought back on the words she’d seen in the depths beneath Alexandria, on the door to Queen Keqet’s tomb.
‘Those who disturb Queen Keqet’s slumber shall suffer a thorn in their soul.’
As Wynonna stood up, brushing the blankets off her, she now realized that the bane’s curse had been real. It wasn’t just a message to keep people away. Someone had actually cursed Keqet’s tomb, and now she was going to suffer the effects.
Her body wasn’t her own. Something else controlled it. With each breath Wynonna took, little puffs of the green mist rolled out her nose or mouth. From inside her own body, she fought to regain control, but it was in vain. The curse had her now, and she knew its intent.
Wynonna left those blankets and the warmth of the fire, moving to the back of the house, where Anya had left all of the vespari’s things. Still wearing that borrowed dress while her clothes dried, Wynonna grabbed her gun belt, stocked with her revolver, her knife, and her gun pouch. She strapped the belt over the top of her dress and then moved with purpose down the short hall. She moved to the children’s room.
Gripping the handle of her knife with one hand, and the knob with the other, Wynonna pushed the door open. All three children slept soundly in their beds. Stepping inside, the green mist coursing through her body forced her to close the door behind her and pull the knife from its sheath. The curse wasted no time. It moved her to the bed of Ilya first. He was closest to the door, and so he was the first it targeted.
With no ability to control herself, Wynonna plunged the knife’s blade down into Ilya’s throat. He made a gurgling sound as he woke and clutched instinctively at the weapon, but the life in his eyes quickly flickered and extinguished.
Wynonna looked up. The two girls hadn’t yet stirred. Pulling the blade from Ilya’s throat, the curse now moved her to Roza’s bed. The oldest of the three children, she was situated in the middle of the room.
Inside her own head, Wynonna screamed for her body to listen to her commands. It ignored her, and the knife plunged into Roza’s heart in one swift motion. Tears fell from Wynonna’s eyes as she saw the girl wake up and quickly drift away again. The tears in the vespari’s eyes were not indicative of her regaining control. Just a fluke. The curse held her still.
Only little Kristina was left now, and the movement in the room seemed to have woken her. She stirred in her bed, as the cursed vespari walked toward her.
“Wynnie?” Kristina asked, sitting up on her bed and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What’s going on?”
It was too dark for the little girl to see the horrors Wynonna had already visited upon her siblings. Inside her own body, she wanted to scream out for the girl to run. She wanted to warn her somehow. She wanted to do anything, but the curse stopped her from realizing any of this. Wynonna could do nothing, and she had no choice but to watch, as she approached Kristina’s bed, hiding the blood covered knife behind her back.
“Everything’s okay,” Wynonna said.
The bane’s curse had even taken her voice now.
“What’s going on?” the young girl asked.
Wynonna sat down on the edge of the bed. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”
“Oh, but I was already asleep.”
“That’s okay,” Wynonna told her, slowly pulling the knife from around behind her back. “I’m sure you’ll fall asleep soon enough.”
Kristina leaned forward and reached her hand to the cursed vespari’s face. “Are you crying, Wynnie?”
A flood of emotion surged through Wynonna’s body, and despite the strange green mist dictating her every move, she thought she might be able to wrest control back from Keqet’s curse. She tried to shout for Kristina to flee. She tried to drop the knife. She tried to move away from that bed. All her struggles were for nothing. The curse forced Wynonna to grab Kristina’s hand and then jab the knife into her gut.
The little girl’s body went limp before her, and she made not a sound. Disbelief and confusion froze her in that moment. Wynonna could do nothing but watch as Kristina came to the realization of what had happened. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
“Papa!” she shouted. “Mama!”
Wynonna pulled the knife from her gut and then slashed her throat. More tears fell from her eyes, forced to witness such a terrible sight. The strike cut Kristina’s cries short, but the horrors of that night hadn’t finished. There was movement from the next room, as Magnus and Anya responded to their child’s screams.
They must have noted the terrified tone in her voice, as when Magnus pushed open the door, he already had his revolver drawn. He froze afterward, however, taking in the sight of his children’s bloody bodies. The green mist flowing through Wynonna’s body did not have such a reaction to his presence though.
The curse forced her to abandon the knife, opting instead for her own revolver. She jerked it from the holster so fast, she hardly realized she’d drew it at all. The explosions from the barrel made that clear enough though. Wynonna watched as the runed bullets from her gun shot out and pierced Magnus’s body. The big vespari toppled backward, and Wynonna fired again, shooting Anya as well, killing her instantly.
An entire family slaughtered, she thought, the tears still streaking down her cheeks. She could do nothing, and she had to watch every painful second. The curse didn’t think it was over yet though. It had her walk up to Magnus, who was still breathing but badly wounded. She aimed her revolver down at his head to finish what she’d started, but the big vespari wasn’t dead yet. Before she could shoot, Magnus raised his weapon and fired a bullet into her neck. Wynonna fell back, the green mist pouring out from her mouth just as blood poured from her wound.
Finally in control of her own body, she could no longer do anything to save the children or their parents. She lay on the floor, feeling the life fade out of her. Wynonna’s eyes dipped closed, and she drifted off.
Chapter 3. With the Help of a Soul Eater
Wynonna shot upright, finding she had slept through the whole night in the same spot in front of the fire. The flames had long since gone out, and behind her, Wynonna heard Anya preparing breakfast. Realizing everything with the green mist had all been yet another part of Petronila’s nightmares, the vespari muttered a curse under her breath.
“What was that?” Anya asked, halting her preparations.
Wynonna turned her head partway around. “Nothing,” she told the woman.
As Anya shook her head and went back to preparing breakfast, the vespari got to her feet. Yawning and scratching her head, resulting in even more tousled hair, she approached Anya, leaning against the counter on the outside of her kitchen.
“What are you making?” Wyno
nna asked.
“Sausage… eggs… pancakes and jam for Ilya… there is porridge if you’d like… I make pot of tea,” the woman replied cracking open an egg and dropping it into her frying pan. “Also, I make dumplings for Magnus.” Anya turned to Wynonna and smiled. “His favorite.”
“You’re really going all out.”
“It’s been long time since Magnus was home, so we celebrate when we can. I can make you something special if you would like.”
“Whatever you’re making is perfect,” Wynonna said with a smile. “I appreciate your hospitality.”
“You are one of family now. The children love you. You’ve made impression on them. Kristina most of all.”
“She’s a sweet kid.”
“Yes, but you try living with her.”
Wynonna just smiled.
“Also, your clothes should be dry now,” Anya told her. “But shirt ruined. I had to toss.”
“What’s that now?”
“Sorry. You are welcome to keep dress if you like.”
“Mm. I guess I can make that work.”
“Go check if you like to change.”
“I’ll do that,” the vespari told her with a little nod.
Wynonna pushed herself away from the counter and went to the back of the house, where Anya had hung her clothes and where Petronila had made her think that she’d grabbed her gun and knife in the dream. Though she already knew she hadn’t hurt anyone the night before, it was nice to see that her things were where she’d last seen them. This served as further proof that the soul eater didn’t have as much control over her as Petronila would like.
Grabbing her jeans, Wynonna wiggled into them and let the bottom hem of the blue dress fall down over them. They were a lot tighter and firmer than she remembered, but she imagined they’d loosen up after a bit of use. As for the duster, she just folded it over her arm to put on later. Wynonna grabbed everything else and dumped it in her hat, taking it all back toward the front door, where she placed them on a shelf out of reach of the children. She figured she’d just grab her revolver and the rest on her way out rather than tote around her gun belt in a house full of kids.
When Wynonna returned to the kitchen, she found three sleepy eyed children sitting down at the table. Magnus had gotten up as well and now helped Anya with the food by bringing the finished dishes to the table. As soon as Kristina saw Wynonna, her eyes grew wide, and she smiled at the vespari.
“Wynnie!” she shouted.
“Hey there, short stack,” Wynonna replied.
“Sit here,” the girl said, patting the spot beside her.
Wynonna looked to Anya who nodded that it was alright, and she sat down beside Kristina. “So, what’s good?” she asked the little girl.
“I like the sausage,” Kristina said, poking one such log with her fork, bringing it back to her mouth, and taking a bite of it.
“The pancakes are better,” Ilya interjected.
“Nuh-uh,” Kristina said, still chewing on the sausage.
“Close your mouth when you chew,” her older sister said, taking a spoonful of the eggs and plopping them on her plate.
“I think I’ll try a little of everything,” Wynonna said, as Anya and Magnus joined their children at the table.
“You must have dumpling,” Magnus told her, scooping one up and putting it on her plate. “Best of all.”
Wynonna chuckled. “You’re worse than them.”
“Where do you think they get it from?” Anya asked.
Magnus beamed a smile at his wife, and his youngest children did the same, while Anya and Roza rolled their eyes at them. Being with a family again was good for Wynonna, and as long as she was there, her troubles seemed distant. If being with a happy family wasn’t enough, Anya’s cooking was delicious, and Wynonna went back for not only seconds but thirds as well. She felt like being there with the Volkovs might actually fill the hole that had been growing inside her ever since she returned home to that bloody ranch. With all things though, she knew it couldn’t last forever, so she made the most of her time with them, cherishing their company.
***
After breakfast, Wynonna decided she had to leave Magnus, Anya, and their three children behind, so she could return to the Black Tea Tower and check on the state of her confirmation. The vespari grabbed her things, and, after a lengthy farewell to Kristina with a promise to soon return, she once more set out into Alexandria’s streets. The morning air was cold and crisp, but the vespari felt good despite Petronila’s continued nightmares. Anya’s cooking had given her a sense of warmth throughout her whole body, and she clasped her hand over her belly, feeling more full than she had in weeks.
The entire way back to the Black Tea Tower, Wynonna had a smirk on her face. Being back amongst a family had done her good, and she felt confident about the day before her. She’d dealt with the oathbreaker (as far as the elders knew), and she’d taken out not one but two nagas lurking in the sewers. Corrupt or not, she didn’t think that the elders could deny her confirmation as a vespari.
Arriving back at the tower, Wynonna proceeded inside. She thought about stopping to see Autumn again, but she was too eager to hear from the elders. Once the confirmation was over, she would go back down and celebrate with the quartermaster properly. She took the stairs up, two at a time, until she arrived at the third floor. Wasting no time, the vespari proceeded forward and rapped her knuckles against the hard wood of the elders’ chamber door.
After a moment, the door opened and Ambrose stood behind it. “Ah, Wynonna,” he said. “We’ve been expecting you. Please, come in.”
She did as he asked without saying anything in response, and the elder shut the door behind her. Wynonna walked up to the table’s edge where Bowater and Nicolae already sat. Ambrose soon followed her in and returned to his seat as well.
“So,” Wynonna said, putting her hands on her hips, no longer able to stay silent. “How does this confirmation thing work?”
“Well, this is it,” Nicolae told her. “It is finished.”
“Oh. Well, I figure with everything you put me through, there’d be some ridiculous ceremony to go along with it.”
“There won’t be any ceremony, Wynonna.”
“Good,” she told him with a smile. “I’m not exactly one for so-called pomp and circumstances. Then what is next?”
“Nothing,” Bowater told her, a satisfied grin stretched across his face. “You’re done. It’s over.”
“What?” She turned to the other two vespari. “What is he talking about?”
Ambrose cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I am afraid that the Vespari Brotherhood will not confirm you as a vespari. You are not one of us.”
The smile disappeared from Wynonna’s face, turning into a scowl. “What?”
“I am sorry, Wynonna,” Nicolae told her.
She punched down into the hard wood of the table. “I accomplished all your stupid tasks! I kept my calm and didn’t kill that bastard Ernest when he deserved it! Why not? What the fuck did I not do?”
“The reasons for denying you are several fold, Wynonna,” Ambrose said. “One of which you just illustrated for us.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Your anger,” Nicolae told her. “You cannot control it.”
“I use my anger! I aim it at whatever monster I’m hunting! It makes me stronger!”
“It blinds you,” Ambrose said. “But your anger is not the only reason. It’s not even the most important.”
“Then what is?”
“Your master, Corrigan Lockhart.”
“What about him?”
Ambrose pursed his lip and looked to the ground before continuing. “We banished him to the desert for a reason. He committed a terrible crime, and we thought never to see him again. We certainly didn’t expect we would encounter a student of his. As far as we are concerned, he stopped being a vespari when he went into the desert. Any student he may have sought to teac
h is illegitimate.”
Wynonna glanced over at Bowater, who just sat back in his chair with his arms folded in his lap. He was all too pleased.
“What?” Wynonna asked. “You’re punishing me because of something I didn’t even do? Something you haven’t even told me about?”
“The Vespari Brotherhood simply is not going to break from its values in this regard.”
“It’s values?” she spat back. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“We’ve seen what you can do, Wynonna. Everyone knows what you’re capable of,” Ambrose told her.
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Not one of you knows what I’m capable of!”
“I’m sorry, Wynonna,” Nicolae told her. “But, I’m afraid the decision is final.”
Wynonna wanted to scream. She felt burning hot tears well up in her eyes, but she refused to let them slip down her cheeks. The whole experience of her confirmation had been an enormous waste of time. She’d failed Corrigan, and she didn’t even know why. Unable to stand being in that room any more, Wynonna turned and left the elders’ chamber, slamming the door on her way out. She then moved to the stairs and stomped down them in a flurry.
Everything became a white-hot blur after that. Wynonna couldn’t have said if she passed anyone on the way out or what she might have said or done. She felt out of control like never before. Upon entering Alexandria, she didn’t even care about the confirmation, but somewhere along the way, she saw it as something she’d earned. The elders denied her of that. She didn’t know what to do with herself in response.
Well, she did have one thought. After leaving the Black Tea Tower and moving in a random direction, Wynonna found a bar. With the coins she’d found in the nagas’ lair jingling in her pocket, she could finally afford to pay for a drink, and that’s exactly what she had in mind.
Walking into the bar, the vespari found the place relatively empty. Given the early hour, she supposed it wasn’t much of a surprise. She didn’t mind. Being alone would be for the best anyway, given how likely it was that anyone who irritated her at that particular moment would be having some serious health issues immediately after.