How to Break an Evil Curse

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How to Break an Evil Curse Page 14

by Laura Morrison


  Besides, his sister had already pushed the door open while he’d been standing there waffling, and no horrible fate had befallen her upon crossing the threshold, so he figured it was cool, and skittered inside.

  After only a few minutes of nosing around, they discovered Farland’s creepy skeleton-themed tapestry triptych rolled up in a wardrobe on top of his puzzle collection, his dark-wizard themed books, and his work station where he must whip up his spells and potions, all of which were weird but none of which were very illuminating. They also discovered that when they turned around the bottles of supposed harpsichord powders and oils, the true contents of the bottles could be seen on the labels.

  “Wow, Corrine, this is so creepy. A guy who has bottles labeled ‘Heart Stop Tonic’ and ‘Night Terrors Pomade’ is after me. Me. I mean, he obviously has the wrong guy, but it’s not like there’s any convincing him of that…” He trailed off and went over to the window to peek out at Charles and Myrtle across the street. They looked pretty irate. He also noted that it was getting dark. They really did need to hurry.

  As she examined the shelves with her back to him, Corrine said, “Yeah, yeah, Warren, this whole thing is crazy. All we can do for now is get as far away from him as possible. But you know, while we’re here, if he has any of that orange stuff and some asparagus powder lying around, that might come in handy—”

  Corrine kept talking, but Warren was no longer listening, so busy was he with jumping out of his skin with terror at the sound of the dry, croaky voice that suddenly filled his head and resonated through his body to the very marrow of his bones: WARREN!

  Warren looked around wildly and was shocked to see that Corrine was still idly looking at all the creepy labels on the bottles and talking in a casual manner, as though a strange, harsh voice had not just reverberated through the room yelling his name. She picked up a jar of green powder and muttered something about asparagus.

  It croaked again, At last you have come!

  Warren’s eyes darted frantically around. He tried to speak, but his mouth had gone dry. He swallowed, cleared his throat. “Corrine?” he whispered, his voice coming out in a hoarse rasp.

  She turned around to look at him, and saw her brother looking around the room with frightened eyes.

  “Dude, what the—”

  WARREN! screeched the voice. It sounded like a crow, if crows could talk11.

  “AHH! Geez!! Stop it!!” he yelled at the voice, and on shaky legs backed into a corner, the better to see the whole room at one time and thus make sure no evil demon was swooping behind him.

  “What?!” Corrine cried, catching his panic even though she wasn’t hearing what he was. “What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything!”

  “You don’t hear that voice? It keeps saying my name! It sounds like a crow! I can’t believe you don’t hear—”

  Not a crow! A raven! Honestly, bro, if I had a nickel for every time—

  “Corrine! It happened again—it’s still taking to me!” The absolute fear in his sister’s eyes was doing even more to scare him than the voice itself. “Is it possible to lose your mind this fast?”

  “Shut up! You’re not crazy. It must be some spell,” Corrine said, grasping at straws to come up with an explanation that didn’t involve her little brother having gone suddenly insane. “Some sort of spell. Yeah. Something that makes you think you’re hearing voices. Did you touch anything you shouldn’t have? Spill something?”

  The raven voice cut in again: Warren! Take the top off the coffee table! Then it added in a tone that might almost have sounded reassuring except that the voice itself was so darn creepy, All will be made clear in a trice.

  Warren wanted very badly for all to be made clear in a trice, so he nervously inched away from the safety of his corner and over to the only table in sight, a low one with a plaid tablecloth that displayed harpsichord music and magazines.

  “What is going on? What are you hearing?” Corrine asked, watching him edge over to the table.

  Warren had become certain that the voice was coming from within his head and not from anywhere in the room. Before seriously entertaining the thought that he was losing his mind, he needed to see if there was in, fact, anything under that table that could begin to explain this.

  “Answer me!” Corrine whispered shrilly. “Warren, you’re scaring me!”

  Ignoring his sister, Warren put his hands on the edge of the table, took a deep breath, and gave a tentative push. It was loose—apparently not attached to the base of the table. He pushed it back slowly, revealing a big, gothic-looking stone basin full of a deep red, faintly shimmering liquid. Not at all what he had been expecting, which was a good sign as far as his sanity went.

  Hi bro, croaked the voice. I’m the magical pool of raven blood.

  “What on earth is that stuff?” asked Corrine, horrified. “That looks like blood.”

  “It is blood,” Warren found himself saying. “Raven blood.”

  * * *

  10People had been so much simpler before Farland had come into the picture; on the pirate ship Warren had known that (1) his family was nice, (2) the pirates were cutthroat mercenaries, and (3) the audiences who paid to see his family’s performances had clapped and laughed when they were supposed to, so they were pretty good as a group. People on the mainland were tougher.

  11Which they can’t, even in Fritillary, though they are very smart (as birds go, anyway) and do have a language of sorts for communicating amongst themselves.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Julianna was so excited to get out of her dungeon that she drugged Delia earlier than usual and climbed up the tunnel before sunset. Her plan was to hang back in the shadows and have Dexter swoop out periodically and check to see if it was night yet. That way, she could exit the tunnel the moment the sun had set and maximize her time outside. In her bag, she had added to her supplies a bit more food and a necklace her parents had given her for her sixth birthday. The necklace was the proof she was going to give the smugglers to show that she could steal from the princess. The pendant on the necklace was absolutely encrusted with an utterly nonsensical number of jewels, and on the back was an engraving that read, “To our sweet Julianna on her sixth birthday. Love, Mom and Dad.”

  She stretched out on her back in the tunnel waiting for Dexter, running her fingers over the rough, bumpy surface of the huge pendant and thinking what a strange gift it had been for a six-year-old. She remembered how heavy it had felt around her neck that day her mom had given it to her. Julianna had not worn it again since, at first because it was just too big, and then later because her tastes ran more to jewelry that wasn’t laughably excessive.

  “Hey!” Dexter said, breaking into her reverie. “Sun’s set, kid. Let’s get moving.”

  Her heart leapt. She took a steadying breath, then stowed her necklace away along with all her other supplies and scooted to the top of the tunnel.

  This time outside, she was so excited to get to the smugglers’ tunnel and get on with her Purpose of making the world a better place that she wasted no time stargazing or enjoying the gardens. She was so focused on getting to the trapdoor that Dexter found himself having to warn her about approaching guards on more than one occasion, and she was twice almost discovered. “You’ve got to pay attention,” Dexter lectured. “If you go blundering around like this in the city, you are going to get into trouble in about two minutes.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’ll be careful once I’m outside the castle walls.”

  They walked through the orchard until they reached the castle wall, and then walked along it until, at last, she saw the orange star painted on the wall that indicated the trapdoor was near. She located it much easier this time around. She quickly opened it up and climbed in, then walked the length of the tunnel without stumbling once on the smooth, hard ground. Once she got to the trapdoor at the e
nd, she took a deep breath, then gave it a cautious knock.

  “Hector!” came a woman’s voice from above. “Hector, someone’s knocking!” There was a muffled response, and then the woman’s voice said, “Come on up out of there!”

  Julianna hesitated a moment, but the lady was clearly talking to her and not Hector, so she pushed up the trapdoor. She had been rather surprised that they hadn’t asked for some proof or explanation or something before letting her up; their security didn’t seem too great for a thriving smuggling operation. But once Julianna had climbed up, shut the trapdoor behind her, and stood up again, she saw that their security was actually pretty all right after all.

  There was a lady standing before her, and in her hand was a plain but very functional sword (Julianna had made this deduction about the lady’s weapon’s functionality because the tip of it was resting against her throat, and it felt plenty sharp enough to do some substantial harm). Behind the lady were two burly guys, both of them watching her with knives or daggers or something at the ready12, though they were sitting down at a table where they had apparently been playing cards before she had shown up, so they weren’t as immediate a danger as the lady.

  Julianna eeped, which caused the blade at her throat to poke her a tad.

  “Who in blazes are you, girlie?” the lady said with a glower.

  “I’m—er—” Julianna was finding out the hard way that it was challenging for her to keep her lies from the previous night straight in her head when she was really, really scared.

  “You’re Jennifer. You’re a maid in the castle,” Dexter supplied, floating behind the lady and giving Julianna a reassuring smile. “She’s not going to kill you, Princess. Unless you do something really dumb.”

  “I’m Jennifer. I’m a maid in the castle,” she gasped. “I—I brought you something.” She gave her bag a little shake. “Something that belonged to the Princess.”

  There were footsteps behind Julianna and she heard a man say, “Luann, put your sword down! This is just that kid I was telling you about from last night.”

  Luann said, “Oh? You said she wouldn’t be coming back.”

  “I just assumed she’d chicken out. She was so jumpy when I was talking to her.”

  “Hey!” Julianna said. Never mind that she had been really jumpy, and also that she had very nearly chickened out and not come back. She still didn’t appreciate him talking about her like that.

  “She said she brought something that belonged to the Princess,” Luann said.

  The burly guards behind Luann appraised Julianna for a few more seconds, then put their weapons down on the table and began playing cards again, obviously deeming her threat level to be too low to be worthy of their concern.

  Julianna felt strangely insulted.

  “Seriously, Luann, put the sword down. Let’s see what she’s got in that bag.”

  Julianna gave a little sigh of relief when Luann at last took Hector’s advice and lowered her weapon. Then Julianna opened the bag up with shaking fingers and drew out the necklace, placing the pendant in Luann’s outstretched hand. Luann studied it intently and breathed some sort of curse that Julianna wasn’t familiar with, but it must have been the sort that meant something positive, because when Luann looked up at last from the pendant, she was smiling a big, greedy smile that told Julianna quite clearly that she had picked the right item to bring. “Look at this thing!” Luann said, awestruck.

  Hector joined her and they both examined it a bit more, oohing and ahhing and muttering to each other. The burly guys playing cards looked up with only mild interest before going back to their game. They must be paid by the hour instead of by the haul.

  Hector looked up at her and said, “If it is discovered that you took a thing of so much worth, you’ll be in huge trouble. I’m inclined to think you must be rather stupid.”

  Julianna glared at him and said, “I’m certain the Princess hasn’t looked at that thing in years. It’s been sitting at the bottom of her jewelry box for ages. She doesn’t wear jewelry.”

  “If you’re sure…” he said hesitantly.

  “Well, either way, we’re taking it,” said Luann. “So I hope for your sake that you’re right.”

  Hector shot Luann a look but didn’t disagree. “Anyway, this sure is proof that you work in the Princess’s rooms, and that you are willing to steal for us. So, as far as I’m concerned, you’re in.” He looked at Luann, who shrugged.

  After a moment, Luann peeled her eyes away from the pendant and said, “You know, she could actually get started tonight. At the inn. Sarah was going to do it, but he might know who she is. It’d be good to use someone new.”

  Hector thought a moment and said to Julianna, “Would you be interested in helping out?”

  “Sure...” Julianna said, as Dexter nodded eagerly at her. “Uh, what is it you want me to do?”

  “It should be right up your alley,” Hector said. “We need someone to steal something from a guy who’s staying at the inn up by the castle gates. We’re not sure how many of our people he knows by sight, so a new person would be good.”

  Julianna paused, feeling nervous.

  “Do it! Do it!” Dexter prodded.

  “Okay,” she said, trying not to look at the ghost. It was so annoying when he talked to her around other people.

  “Great. He’s staying at The Sign of the Dawdling Donkey. You know it?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure. The good ol’ Dawdling Donkey,” she lied, figuring it would be suspicious if a commoner working in the castle wasn’t aware of a business by the castle’s gates. “Why’s stealing from a guy at this inn right up my alley?” she couldn’t help but ask, since the logic was less than obvious.

  “Well, you’re a maid, and we need a maid. The plan we’ve worked out with the innkeeper is that you go into the guy’s room in a maid uniform the innkeeper will supply, you clean up, and, while you’re in there, find a small silver box with an orange star on it.” He then explained, “It’s always best with things like this to find someone who will be comfortable with the role. Hence getting a maid to do a maid’s job.”

  She nodded. “Okay.” It did sound pretty easy. A nice, straightforward way for her to dip her toes into this whole seedy underworld and begin to get an idea of what might be the best way to make the citizens happier.

  “The guy is named Mortimer Perkins,” Hector said. I’m told he’s leaving tomorrow morning for the north, so tonight is your only chance.”

  “Wow, so I guess I’d better get going now, then.” How very sudden. Julianna’s stomach churned.

  Luann, who hadn’t looked up from the pendant the whole time Hector and Julianna had been talking, interjected at that juncture, “Make hay while the sun shines.”

  Julianna bristled at the expression. It had never been one of her favorites, considering her curse. But she just said, “Okay, let’s go!”

  Hector led her up a dark, narrow flight of stairs and into a living area that, to Julianna, looked like the absolute epitome of poverty, but was actually pretty standard middle-class conditions.

  “Quit staring!” Dexter said, as she stifled a gasp at the sight of laundry drying on a string over the kitchen counter. Did people really live like this? What a nightmare! She had never so much as seen laundry before (except her tunneling clothes), but she knew for a fact that there was an entire section of the castle devoted to cleaning, drying, ironing, and other laundry things. Julianna tried to quit staring, but no matter what she did, her eyes kept drifting from one evidence of privation to another. Why, these people had a living area, kitchen, dining area, and a bed, all in one room that could fit inside one of her walk-in closets.

  Dexter had a good idea of what the source of her horrified expression was, and he said, “This is how people live when they aren’t royalty, Princess. In fact, these people are doing pretty well for themselves, I’d gue
ss,” he added, looking around. “There are tons of people who live in much worse conditions than this. Seriously, you need to quit gaping.”

  She clamped her mouth shut and plastered a semi-normal expression on her face just in time. Hector turned around at the front door, and said, “The bartender is named Galt. Tell him I sent you. Once you have the box, bring it back here. Sound good13?”

  “Yep,” she said as he opened the door for her. Julianna then walked out into the dark city street and barely noticed the door slamming shut behind her, so absorbed was she with the scene before her. The moonlight was helpful, but still she had some trouble navigating the unlit, crowded street full of wagons and pedestrians bustling to and fro; some people had lanterns either in their hands or affixed to their wagons, but the majority seemed to be managing with whatever moonlight filtered through the haze of coal smoke that permeated the air. She was surprised to see so many people out and about past sunset.

  “It’s going to take you a while to get to the Dawdling Donkey. We’re almost exactly halfway around the castle wall,” Dexter pointed out. “You can gawk as you walk.” He smiled a bit at his inadvertent rhyme and whispered it again to himself just to hear it again. “Gawk as you walk.”

  She strode down the steps and into the mucky, muddy road, and after only three steps, succeeded in slipping and falling14. She got up and brushed herself off as best she could, then continued, keeping just a bit behind her spectral companion so that he could lead the way. She tried not to get too sickened at the thought of what must be soaking through her soft-soled slippers. If it weren’t for her preoccupation with the state of her feet, it would have been even harder to keep from staring at the conditions of the street than it had been for her to keep from staring at the home she’d been in. Everyone looked so tired and filthy, and their clothes were all so worn and shabby looking.

 

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