13 Curses

by Michelle Harrison

  Tanya leaned in closer. Morag’s breath was sour from dehydration.

  “Won’t stop… won’t stop, can’t make them stop,” she whispered, the words tumbling over each other in a jumble. “Won’t go away… won’t stop…”

  “What won’t stop? Talk to me, Morag…”

  Nell appeared in the doorway.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she said, eyeing the old gypsy woman fearfully.

  “Yes,” Red snapped. “Just stay out there in case you cause another catastrophe.”

  Nell shrank back, stung.

  “This is no good,” said Red. “We need a doctor—”

  “Wait,” said Tanya. “I think she’s trying to tell us something.”

  “Can’t make them stop… too many, all I can see… won’t go away… visions won’t stop… haunting me… everywhere…”

  “She said, ‘visions won’t stop,’ ” said Tanya. “She’s having visions! Something’s wrong with her, I don’t understand!”

  “We need her to snap out of it,” said Red. “Let’s get her up.” She pulled back the cover. “Poor old girl even got in bed fully clothed.”

  Under the bedclothes, Morag was clutching a shawl around herself tightly. In the dim light, Tanya could see glittering beads that were sewn to it winking like tiny stars… except for one, duller and heavier than the rest, not a bead at all but instead an object that was very familiar.

  “Terrible things… make them stop… people dying, buildings falling… visions won’t stop…”

  “Red,” Tanya whispered, pointing to Morag’s shawl. “Look!”

  Red followed her gaze to the woolen fabric wrapped around the old woman’s shoulders, where instead of a round, silvery bead, a squat silver cup had been sewn in its place.

  “It’s from the bracelet—the Cup of divination,” said Tanya. She reached out to tug at it, but it was firmly secured in place. “It’s what’s giving her these awful visions—we have to make them stop!” She tugged at the shawl, trying to pull it away from Morag, but the old woman held it in her clawlike hands with an iron grip.

  “She won’t let go—we’ll have to cut it off,” said Tanya. “Give me your knife!”

  Red pulled her knife out from her belt—then hesitated.

  “Quickly,” said Tanya. “What are you waiting for?”

  “She might be able to tell us where the rest of the charms are,” said Red.

  “You can’t be serious? We’ve got to help her!”

  “We will,” said Red. “But think about it—we could solve this right now. If she’s having visions, maybe she could see where we need to look next.”

  “No,” said Tanya. “Look at her—we need to make it stop.”

  “And I need to find my brother!” said Red. She slid the knife back in her belt and pulled the charm bracelet from her pocket. She held it up to Morag’s face.

  “Tell us where to find the missing charms,” she said urgently. “Where should we look?”

  Morag’s eyes flickered and rolled back in her head. Her whole body went rigid.

  “Connected,” she whispered. “All connected…”

  “Connected how?” Red pressed.

  “To the past…”

  “Whose past? The bracelet’s owners?”

  “Connected to the… bracelet itself… shadow moments… some events leave a trace. The past… is the key…”

  “So that’s it,” Red breathed. “The charms will be in places significant in the history of the bracelet itself ! We were on the right lines—but not close enough!”

  “That’s enough!” Tanya shouted, lunging for Red’s knife. “Make it stop—or I will!”

  Red drew the blade out from her belt and severed the charm from the woolen thread. She held it in her palm before slowly bringing it to touch the bracelet. As soon as they made contact, there was a small clink of metal on metal. The charm had attached itself to the bracelet once more.

  Morag’s eyes closed and she lay back, still in her bed, peaceful at last.

  “Morag?” Tanya whispered, brushing a damp strand of gray hair back from the old woman’s face.

  Morag’s eyes opened slowly.

  “Some water… please?” she croaked.

  Tanya rushed into the kitchen to refill the tumbler. When she went back into the gypsy woman’s sleeping quarters, Red had helped her to sit up. After a few minutes she was well enough to be helped into the kitchen area.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Tanya asked.

  “I will be,” said Morag. “Once I’ve got rid of this raging headache.” She peered at Nell, sitting in an armchair with the General’s cage balanced on her knees. “I see you’ve been reunited, then?”

  Nell gave a meek nod.

  “I found him in a hawthorn bush,” said Morag. “He must have had quite an adventure.” She handed a small key to Tanya, then sank down into her chair by the window tiredly.

  “What’s this for?” Tanya asked.

  “My cabinet,” said Morag, nodding to the various ingredients in pots, jars, and bottles. “You can mix me a remedy—I’ll tell you what to do. And then I think it’s about time you told me what’s going on, don’t you?”

  General Carver chattered and clacked all the way back to the manor, seemingly none the worse for his little escapade. He was also the most talkative of the group. Since leaving Mad Morag’s caravan, Nell had not uttered a word, and every attempt Red made at conversation with Tanya was cut short with an abrupt reply.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked finally as they went through the garden gate. “You’ve hardly said a word all the way back.”

  Tanya pulled the compass off from over her head and pushed it into her pocket. Her dark eyes were fixed ahead as they marched through the weeds.

  “I think the question should be, what’s wrong with you,” she answered. “You saw Morag was in a bad way, and still you pressed her for answers. How could you do that?”

  “I did the same as what I always do,” Red retorted. “What I had to.”

  Tanya stopped and faced her.

  “I know you’ve lost your brother, Red, but it’s not just about him anymore. Morag might have lost her mind if she’d been left in that state much longer. You can’t just let things happen to people because it suits you and your search for James. Didn’t you see what that charm was doing to her?”

  “Of course I saw,” Red said angrily. “And once we’re safely inside I’ll explain myself.” She turned to Nell. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep me—and what’s happening—a secret. You mustn’t tell Tanya’s grandmother about any of this. Forget everything you saw and heard in Mad Morag’s caravan.”

  Nell looked torn.

  “I don’t know,” she quavered. “I’ve a responsibility…. What if something happens to one of you?”

  “It’s just for now,” Tanya added. “If things get worse, we’ll tell my grandmother, I promise.”

  “And you owe me,” said Red, her eyes narrowed. “If you want to even attempt to make up for what you’ve done, then you’ll stay quiet.”

  With that, they had her. She nodded miserably, and, satisfied, they all went in.

  “We only saw the charm by accident,” said Red. “It was sewn onto the gypsy woman’s shawl—she didn’t even know it was there.”

  “As soon as we removed it the visions stopped,” said Tanya. “I dread to think what would have happened if we hadn’t found her when we did.”

  They were gathered in Tanya’s room, relating the morning’s events to a sleepy-eyed Fabian.

  “Morag confirmed what we thought after we told her about the task,” said Tanya. “She knew it was no coincidence that the Cup of divination had come to her. Firstly, she already has visions—but she’s able to control them, and she said they’ve never been relentless like these visions were. Secondly, she’s a descendant of Agnes Fogg, the wise woman who was connected to Elizabeth Elvesden…”

  “And the woman
who became the Hedgewitch,” Red put in.

  “… And that’s the link between Morag and the charm.”

  “So the charms’ locations aren’t just to do with the owners of the bracelet?” Fabian asked. “Because Agnes Fogg never owned it—she just knew Elizabeth.”

  “Tell him the rest,” Tanya said, with a cold glance at Red. “Tell him how you refused to remove the charm straight away.”

  Red stared back defensively.

  “When we realized Morag was having the visions, I questioned her about where the rest of the charms might be. I didn’t think we’d get as lucky as specific locations, and I was right. But what she did tell us is that past events can leave a trace on things. The charms will be found in places significant to the history of the bracelet itself.”

  “So that’s the link,” said Fabian. His bushy hair was sticking up comically where he had slept on it. “I don’t understand why the charm would give Morag visions, though.”

  “Neither did I—at first,” said Red. “But then it hit me. What we discussed about the fairies not specifying how long we have to find the charms… well, I think I know why. The charm that was with Morag had some kind of power over her—and not just any power. The power of divination, which relates to the object itself. Except that its power was warped—swamping Morag with visions she couldn’t control. If we hadn’t taken the charm from her, she would have been driven mad.”

  “The charm was cursed,” said Fabian.

  “Exactly,” said Red. “And the Cup of divination is just one of the Thirteen Treasures… one that isn’t as bad as some might be, if their power was corrupted.”

  “But the Heart,” said Tanya. “Nothing happened when we found that—it was just sitting with the other charms.”

  “Sitting in a tray in a shop,” Red pointed out. “Looking for an owner. Waiting for someone to buy it—and wear it.” She looked at Tanya. “That’s why I pushed Morag for answers—not just because of James, but because of the damage the rest of the charms could do if we don’t get to them first. We need to find them as soon as we can. Because I think the Cup of divination is just a suggestion of how dangerous they could be.”

  “But the bracelet must have had dozens of owners,” Tanya said dismally.

  “I was thinking the same thing myself,” said Fabian. “Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I sneaked back into Florence’s study and found some old papers tracing the bracelet back through the family. And what I found was that it was buried with Elizabeth.”

  “Then how was it passed down through the family?” Red asked.

  “It reappeared in the family after a hundred years. Which means that someone must have dug it up.”

  “Someone dug the grave up?” Tanya asked in disbelief. “Just to get the bracelet out? Who would do such a horrible thing?”

  “Someone who wanted to make money,” Fabian answered. “Florence opened the house to visitors a few years ago to make some extra money, but she wasn’t the first. When times were hard, it was opened once before to the public. The Elvesdens’ room was, of course, the most popular. And the more original objects and artifacts there were, the more people flocked to see them. Elizabeth’s bracelet was displayed in a glass cabinet in the room, along with other things of hers.”

  “So during that time, it never really belonged to anyone?” Tanya asked.

  Fabian nodded. “Which means that the bracelet has only ever had three real owners—Elizabeth, Florence, and you.”

  “That should make things easier,” said Red. “It means that the bracelet has hardly ever been out of this house.” She glanced at Tanya. “You didn’t take it to your home, did you?”

  Tanya shook her head. “I only wore it here.”

  “It may make finding the charms easier, but it doesn’t make it any less dangerous,” said Fabian. “We should all search together whenever possible.”

  “It makes sense to search my room first,” Tanya said. “The only place I ever kept it when I wasn’t wearing it was here.” She knelt down and pulled back the carpet, lifting out the loose floorboard.

  She took the shoebox out and removed the lid, then the contents one by one.

  “No charms,” Fabian said grimly. “Oh, well. We might as well search the rest of the room, but it’s probably a waste of time. You haven’t owned the bracelet long enough for anything significant to have happened to it.”

  “Wait,” Tanya said suddenly. “Something significant did happen. The drain-dweller died because of the bracelet. It became obsessed with it after I gave it one of the charms!”

  “The Cauldron,” said Red.

  Tanya got up and went into the little adjoining bathroom. “Warwick pulled it out of the sink when he was going to fix it.” She leaned over the basin and peered into the plughole. “I can’t see anything, but it’s dark in there. Do you think there’s a chance…?”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Fabian. “Back in a minute.”

  He ducked out of the room and returned a few minutes later armed with a wrench and an empty bucket.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” Red asked doubtfully.

  “Of course I do,” he answered. “I’ve seen Warwick do it.” He bent down and began dismantling the pipe under the sink, holding the bucket beneath. As he pulled a section of the pipe away, gray water dribbled into the bucket and a faintly eggy smell arose. “That’s odd,” he said, holding the section of pipe up to his eye. “There seems to be something clogging it, some kind of sludge….” He gave the pipe a tap.

  “What is it?” Tanya asked. “Soap, or hair or something?”

  “I can’t really tell what it is,” he said. “But it doesn’t look pleasant.”

  He gave the pipe a vigorous shake—and let out a yell of alarm as, with a gurgle, a wave of glistening, gray-green slime slithered from the tube. It splattered wetly against the base of the bucket, some droplets bouncing up and hitting Fabian’s T-shirt and glasses. A revolting stench hit the air—the rotten egg smell of a few moments ago magnified by a hundred.

  “Ugh!” Red exclaimed, backing away. “What is that stuff?”

  “I don’t know,” Fabian said, taking off his glasses to clean them. Unlike Red, he was leaning forward in obvious fascination to peer at the slime. “It reminds me of frog spawn, but the cells are bigger. And definitely smellier. But they seem to be empty.” He tilted the bucket to show Tanya.

  “Just get rid of it. Throw it down the toilet.”

  “Don’t you want to find out what it is?”

  “No!”

  Fabian put his glasses back on and swirled the contents of the bucket. Suddenly, Red heard his sharp intake of breath.

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  The tone of his voice sent her hurrying to the bucket. Holding her breath, she looked in.

  As Fabian had described, the bucket contained a frog-spawn-like substance. Each cell was about the size of a grape, and at the center of every one a gray-green tadpole was suspended in a clear jelly.

  “I thought you said the cells were empty?” she said.

  Fabian frowned. “They are—except that one.” He pointed to one of the cells on the outer corner. “That’s why I called you over.”

  The cell he was pointing to did not contain a tadpole. Instead, the jelly held a small, familiar object—the silver Cauldron charm.

  “How the hell did it get in there?” Red said.

  “I don’t care,” said Tanya. “At least we’ve found it. Now the question is how do we get it out without getting covered in tadpoles and slime?”

  “Tadpoles?” Fabian asked.

  In the bucket, the tadpoles began to wriggle.

  “They’re moving,” said Tanya. “And if you can’t see them, that can only mean one thing—they’re drain-dwellers!”

  “But it’s been dead for months!” Fabian protested. “How can there suddenly be spawn in your sink?”

  “The Cauldron,” said Tanya. “Its power restores the dead to
life, remember? This was the drain-dweller’s home. And now it’s been brought back by the power of the charm—with dozens more!”

  One of the tadpoles burst free from its gooey cell and began flapping about in the bucket.

  “Quick, water!” said Tanya. “They’re starting to break out.”

  Fabian hoisted the bucket into the bath and filled it from the taps.

  “We’ll need to transfer them into pond water,” he said. “Tap water’s no good for them.”

  “We’ll take them down to the brook,” said Tanya. “Can you imagine the destruction they’d cause if they were all hatched? The house would be overrun!”

  As she spoke, more of the tadpoles were breaking free and wriggling in the water.

  As Red looked on in horror, she spotted something.

  “Oh, no…”

  “What?”

  “One of the first to hatch—it’s got legs!”

  “That’s impossible—it takes weeks before that happens,” Fabian snorted.

  “They are legs! They’re changing fast—it must be the magic of the charm. We need to get them out of here now, and we need to get that charm out of their grasp, otherwise we’ll never see it again!” Steeling herself, Red plunged her hand into the slimy contents of the bucket and tried to grab the Cauldron. The spawn was slippery and surprisingly difficult to handle. It slid out of her fingers and splashed back into the bucket, bursting more of the tadpoles’ cells as it landed. By now, some of them had four legs. She shuddered as they half swam, half crawled over her hands.

  “Let me try,” said Tanya, plunging her hand into the bucket. She wrestled with the spawn.

  “Quickly,” said Red. “They’re changing fast!”

  “I can’t get it—and we need to get them out of the house before they hatch!”

  “I’ll take them,” said Fabian.

  “No—you can’t do it if you can’t see them.” A glance in the bucket revealed that the creatures had grown and were starting to lose their tails. Suddenly one of them leapt free of the bucket. Already it had the huge, bulging eyes and greenish-brown amphibian skin. In a flash it had slid into the plughole and vanished.

  “We need to cover the bucket!” Tanya gasped, looking around the room desperately. Her eyes settled on a book, but it was not wide enough to cover the brim. In the end she ran and snatched a cardigan from her wardrobe and arranged it over the opening, tying the arms together around the sides. Then she ran from the room, trying to keep the bucket and its contents steady.