The Unbreakable Curse

by Alexia Purdy

  “What’s that?” He retrieved the bag from its spot and placed it on the table in front of her.

  “It’s a medicinal salve made from the rachis of angel feathers. The feathers have healing properties, but the salve is rare since it takes a full feather to make it. Not many angels give up their feathers for healing salves, as you can imagine, so I don’t like to use it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  He looked impressed. “But you got hold of some. How?”

  “Ereziel requires any angels under his command to donate feathers once a year, after they molt. It’s not so painful to harvest feathers that are already loose.”

  “Wow, an archangel who’s concerned about injuries among his servants. How noble.”

  She frowned at the distaste in his voice. It was obvious archangels weren’t at the top of his list.

  Thalia cleaned the wound and placed the salve on it, hissing at the initial sting of the medicine but sighing as it numbed the pain. She didn’t like using the salve much; like she had said, it was rare and should only be used sparingly.

  Once finished, she waited for the wound and salve to fuse, letting the air hit her skin by tying her ruined shirt just above the wound. It exposed her stomach and back, and she caught Matt running his eyes over her skin before he averted them back to the journal, clearing his throat. She leaned forward, studying the pages to keep from looking at his reddening face.

  The handwriting on the pages was in neat cursive. There were many drawings accompanying the text, along with words that looked to be written in Latin. It piqued her curiosity, and she couldn’t help but to inquire about them.

  “Your mother… she had nice handwriting.”

  “Yeah. She taught me how to read Latin too, which I always complained was a useless skill. I’m eating my words now.”

  “These both belonged to her?” She waved a hand over the two journals.

  “Yep. It’s all I have left of her. A lot of her family heirloom stuff was destroyed in the Salem witch trials. Her great-great-grandmother was almost killed during that time, but she escaped the clutches of those treacherous men trying her for witchcraft.

  “Ever since, her family has kept journals. They’ve all been hidden, and I only found my mother’s. She wrote about the other journals, but I haven’t been able to locate them. She never even told me about hers on her deathbed. I was able to read through some of her spells, but it’s hard to decipher. She had some sort of key to keep it encrypted, and I’ve only decoded half of it.”

  “Why would she not tell you about them? She was obviously told of the other journals by her mother.”

  Matt smiled sadly. “Only female heirs carry the gene for witchcraft. It remains latent in male heirs for some reason. Without a daughter to hand the craft down to, there was no reason to tell her son about her magical history.”

  That was terrible, Thalia thought. Matt would have made an excellent witch.

  “How did your mother get a spell to enchant blades to kill angels? Can anyone use it?”

  He shrugged. “There’s a lot I don’t know about my mother and her spells. She kept her magical abilities from me since mine are dormant. I took after my very human father; just a plain old blacksmith with no magic. I did find out something about the spell to enchant the blades… you don’t exactly need to be a witch to use it. Most of it is just natural magic that can be put together from things found in the earth. It just takes the right words and the right mix, and you can make an angel-killer sword. But there was one special thing that keeps just anyone from making them.”

  “What’s that?”

  Matt rolled up his sleeve to show her a recent cut on his forearm. It was deep and obviously self-inflicted. He had stitched it back up himself but done a poor job of it. It would leave a scar forever. Her eyes widened as understanding hit her.

  “Your blood? The key to making an angel-killer sword… it needs your blood, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s specific to you. But there are other witches in the world. Couldn’t they make the angel-killer swords too?”

  He shook his head and closed his eyes. “It won’t work with another witch’s blood. I know; I tried. Bought some blood off a witch who was very suspicious about it, but she needed the money. Somehow, this spell was tied to my bloodline and only works with my blood. That’s how I knew I might have latent magic. It might never manifest since I’m a man, but it runs in my blood. If I have kids, it could resurface. It’s a simple recipe, but it was used in the days of the Egyptian pharaohs.”

  “How so?”

  “The solution mixed with my blood is called Qere. It’s an essence the embalmers used to pump into corpses to create a pleasant aroma. It is said to be lethal to all those of Nephilim heritage.”

  “Angels?”

  He nodded. “Yes. It’s lethal to angels and their offspring.”

  “That’s amazing.” She couldn’t look away from him. The stories grasped at her mind like a movie reel playing across a screen. When she realized she’d been staring, she had to snap her eyes away to the fireplace. Glancing his way once more, she found him peering up at her, his eyes softening. Something burned within them, and his sorrow was now long gone.

  Her insides warmed with his gaze on her, but she couldn’t hold it and had to once again move her eyes away. She focused on the flames, letting the warmth seep into her bones. Matt was part of the supernatural world and far from being the pure-blooded human she’d thought him to be. How deliciously odd they would be in this situation together. She almost wanted to laugh out loud but knew it was not the right moment.

  She had heard of spells like this before, tied to a bloodline of witches or spellcasters. This spell could kill angels and hurt archangels. Nothing else in history had proven to work that well against them. It made Matt special, dangerous even. His blood would be sought if this information ever found its way out. It was just a matter of time before he was hunted down for his powers.

  Thalia faced Matt, a stab of fear for his safety growing where the warmth in her belly had once sat. He continued reading the journal, bringing it up from his lap to flip through more pages, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes intently staring at the words.

  What was so special about his lineage that only his blood could kill angels?

  “Why can’t another witch’s blood do this? Why just yours? If it worked for the ancient pharaohs, why wouldn’t it work for another witch?”

  Knowing what it was about his linage that made the magic work was the most important thing right now. If they knew why, maybe they could better protect themselves.

  He did not respond, and from the look on his face, she realized he knew the answer to that question. Was he going to tell her or not? Either way, she would have to protect him, and he would need to learn to protect himself. Magic blood was useless if it didn’t keep him safe.

  “My mother,” he finally said, “wrote in her journal that she is the descendent of an archangel. It’s been centuries since that union, and our Nephilim blood has been diluted, but somewhere in our lineage is archangel blood, and it gives us the power to make blades which can hurt celestial beings. My theory is that one of our direct ancestor’s blood was used to make Qere for the pharaohs. The recipe has since been lost. My mother even wondered if it was possible that our linage was connected to Jesus, the son of God. But it’s all speculation, of course. Could he have gotten anyone pregnant while he was here on Earth? I really don’t know, and neither did she, but somehow, we have a direct line to the Lord above. It’s the only way our blood could have enough magic to destroy an angel.”

  “Wow, that’s some speculation. But even if you’re only a descendent of an archangel, you might have that kind of power. Either way, you’re going to have to learn to protect yourself better than you do now.”

  Matt threw her a half smile. “Are you going to teach me? I’ve sparred with your already. I think I’m pretty adept at sword fighting.”

  Thalia shook her head, frowning at his pompous a
ttitude. He thought he was adept? She would have to prove him so very wrong. The funny part was, she would enjoy doing it.

  “You’re pretty pretentious, thinking you’re that good. I was taking it easy with you whenever we sparred because I believed you to be a weak, mortal human. Now that I know better, maybe I’ll let you see what I can really do. But you have a lot to learn before that. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this later.”

  Matt’s smile dropped. “Okay. I guess I won’t take it easy either. Trust me… you’re going to eat your words.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “That locket you had earlier… where did you get it?” Matt asked.

  Surprised, Thalia looked up from what she’d been reading, an old text about legends of angels and demons.

  “You saw that?”

  “Of course, I did. Though I admit you did your best to hide it from me. So what’s so special about it?”

  She pressed her lips together, afraid of what to say. She didn’t know why talking to Matt felt so intimate at times. Every time he asked her something private, it was like he poked a hole through her soul to peer inside. Maybe she just wasn’t used to it and didn’t want to give up the well-built wall she’d erected around herself. A solitary life would do that.

  “Well, let’s see.” She plucked the locket from her jacket and placed it in front of Matt. Might as well put everything on the table. He was technically the only one she could trust, and this was a huge step in that direction.

  Matt picked up the locket and dangled it from his fingers. He studied the engraved metal, his eyes pensive. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary about it until he attempted to pry it open, and it refused.

  “This is a locket, right? Why doesn’t it open?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to open it too, but it must be fused shut.”

  He narrowed his eyes and held the locket up so it could catch more light. “Do you know what these markings are? It’s odd… they look a lot like some of the drawings in my mother’s journals.” He replaced the locket on the table before reaching over to scoop up one of the journals. Thalia scooted her chair closer, peering down at the locket and then the pages he’d flipped open to study.

  “Why would it not open? Who would fuse it shut?” he asked.

  “It’s never opened for me. The only thing I know about it is that everyone keeps calling it some sort of key, and Ichiro said it’s supposed to open a gate to Heaven from a different realm called the Skein. He said it’s a labyrinth type of world.”

  “I thought you can only get into Heaven through Purgatory,” Matt said, puzzled.

  “That’s what I thought until a guy I killed named Ariuk gave me this locket and told me it was from another realm. He claimed it belonged to me, so I should have it. I thought he was just delirious with pain. I had chopped off his hand.”

  Matt made a face.

  “After that,” she continued, ignoring his expression, “when I asked Ichiro about pillaging Ariuk’s grave, he confirmed there was another realm and that the locket was a key to both enter it and open a gate rumored to exist inside the Skein Realm… a gate which leads directly to Heaven. The only thing is, I’ve never heard of the Skein Realm. Ichiro said I was born there, but why should I believe him? Especially when Ereziel never told me about this, and out of everyone on this Earth, you’d think he’d know something about it. Or at least acknowledge the realm’s existence. I’m a mercenary; I need to know about all the hiding places.”

  Matt nodded, agreeing. “Well, you said so yourself that you can’t trust him with everything.” He glanced around the room. “Like this hideaway of yours.”

  That was true. Everyone needed to keep their secrets. She wondered if it was foolish of her to not include Ereziel in all this. She doubted he would have given her any kind of new information about the locket or the Skein. There were things about Ereziel she’d never know, even after spending decades at his side.

  “I just can’t believe he’d withhold so much information about my heritage from me. Why would Ereziel do that?”

  “He probably wanted some sort of reassurance.”

  “For what?” Thalia looked shocked. “Against me?”

  “Reassurance that he can keep you under control.”

  Thalia’s mouth felt dry as frustration ate away at her. How could she trust any archangel when she had one coming after her and another one lying through his teeth about her past? One of them wanted to assassinate Matt, one of her only friends, and the other wanted to make her his concubine. She looked at the pages of the journal then glanced back at the locket on the table next to it. It was beautiful but inert, as though it had no magic of its own. She didn’t know how old it was, but it looked untouched by time. Was it a fake? Or had some made-up story been attached to it?

  “I found it!” Matt exclaimed. “Mom wrote about these designs in her journal, and they match the ones on the locket perfectly. She said her mother told her about them, and it was her mother who drew these and explained what each one was. She said her mother studied and searched for this legendary key her entire life but never told my mother why. Grandma acted crazy whenever she talked about it, like she was possessed and driven to find it. Or cursed.”

  “What about your mother? Did she know what the inscriptions meant? Was she driven mad to search for it?” Thalia’s words hung in the air, full of need and curiosity. This mystery only got deeper and more complicated the more they discovered. There were fleeting moments when she wished Ariuk had never given her the damned thing. It might’ve been better if she’d just buried it with him. She’d at least have one more soul in her cache to present to Purgatory.

  “I think the locket originated in Heaven. Or Hell… I’m not quite sure. But from the symbols, they do kind of relate to some ancient language… Sanskrit? Maybe Sumerian, but I’m no expert. I’m not too sure, but if I was to guess what they say, this one means a division or fraction. Between Heaven and Earth, maybe? This one is the symbol for labyrinth, and these of angels and demonic beings. And that one… I think it’s Earth as well. Right?” He peered up at Thalia, who was engrossed in his evaluation and knowledge of ancient, dead languages. Impressive.

  “Yes. Maybe these symbols don’t mean anything at all. What’s weird is that your mother writes that no one’s ever been there, and nobody has come out. So how do they even know about this Skein Realm? Maybe it doesn’t exist.” Thalia was tempted to think this was all a lie, but from what they’d found so far, it didn’t seem to be the case. Still, it was prudent to remain objective.

  She felt Matt’s eyes on her and glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. It sent liquid fire trailing down her middle, heating her cheeks as her breath hitched. How could he do that with just a look? The silence felt unbearable. There was nothing there yet. Yet. But there were possibilities, especially as the night wore on.

  A knock on the door startled them both, and they ripped their eyes away from each other and stared at the door. Another knock resounded before Thalia headed toward the entrance and peeked through the eyepiece.

  She glanced back at Matt, telling him with a look that she knew who was on the other side of the thick, wooden door. Her excitement was gone, now replaced with suspicion and fear.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thalia opened the door and peered out through the crack, paling. “Paul, hello. I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything all right?”

  She hoped she hadn’t offended the old caretaker for taking so long to answer. He wouldn’t have come while she was at the property if it wasn’t extremely urgent. He held out a bag, which she accepted. She hesitantly peeked inside.

  She gasped. There were artifacts just like the locket inside the bag. “What’s this?” She glanced up, her throat growing dryer with each second.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Thalia, but I uncovered these recently from the basement, deep inside the walls, when we had to reinforce the joists and support beams. It was inside a sealed wooden box,
encrusted with sand and lined with lacquer to prevent damage from moisture. Well preserved. I didn’t want to leave it here, for in my absence, somebody might’ve taken it. It’s full of celestial artifacts which belong to your family.”

  He diverted his eyes to the ground as though looking her directly in the eyes would offend her. She bent her head down to look inside the bag once more… a bag untouched by time and full of forgotten trinkets from the past. A time capsule from the heavens.

  “Thank you, Paul. Wow, this is unexpected. Do you know who it belonged to?”

  Paul shook his head. His eyes flicked behind her as he spotted Matt, still holding the locket. He narrowed his eyes at the shiny relic before studying Matt, memorizing his face. He turned his attention back to Thalia.

  “No. I don’t know who put it there. I apologize. I didn’t know you had company. I’ll take my leave now.”

  “No, wait, please. Come inside. This is Matt. He’s a trusted friend.” She waved him inside, quickly shutting the door behind him as he unseated his soaking wet jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. He remained calm, like nothing in the world could unnerve him.

  “Thank you for coming out this way.”

  He nodded, eyeing Matt with a peculiar look as the blacksmith got up and approached them.

  “You’re welcome. It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Paul Ulrich. The caretaker.” He held out his free hand and waited for Matt to take it. When he did, the old man ran his eyes down Matt’s arm, all the way to the fingertips, before letting go, seemingly satisfied with the grip.

  “It’s good to meet you too, Paul.”

  “I rarely see Thalia around here, but I’m afraid I’m not going to stay long. I can’t help but notice you’ve found a different kind of celestial artifact, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t go through the bag. Just saw some of them when I initially opened it. Those markings are obviously sacred and none of my business as a mortal, but they do appear to be mighty like the ones on your locket there.”