Cursed

by Sue Tingey

  “Oh dear,” Kayla said when she saw him trying to stand and put up his fists, while Kerfuffle grumbled at Shenanigans to let go of his sleeve. She wafted over to where her lover was still struggling to stand. “Sit down before you fall down. I don’t know why you do it; you know you can’t take your drink.”

  “She does realize he can’t hear her?” Jinx said to me.

  “As you said, she’s always been bossy.”

  Jinx plunked himself down on the other side of Kerfuffle and Jamie sat next to Vaybian, leaving me room to sit between him and Jinx. Kubeck sank down next to Shenanigans and Pyrites flopped down under the table next to my feet.

  Leila appeared through the crowd of other patrons without being called and plunked three tankards and a goblet on the table, together with a carafe of wine for me and two more jugs of ale for the boys. “Can I get you anything to eat?” she asked, which was really a very stupid question. Demons on the whole were always hungry; at least my guard were. Usually we hadn’t long finished breakfast before they were thinking about a snack, and then lunch, followed by afternoon tea, then of course supper, which was their biggest meal of the day. All meals, except—thankfully—breakfast, were consumed with vast quantities of ale. Even so, I had rarely seen a demon drunk—tipsy, maybe, but nothing like poor Vaybian.

  He lost the urge to fight sometime between my drinking my first goblet of wine and the arrival of the food. On the whole, I think I preferred it when he was riling up Kerfuffle as he became maudlin once the aggression left him.

  “All gone,” he said with a belch. “All my friends. All gone.” He tried spearing a piece of something resembling a potato and it flew across the table and landed in Kerfuffle’s ale, which didn’t improve the little demon’s mood any. “Even my lovely Kayla.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of the handmaidens of Osiris. Will he not shut up?”

  “You should be pleased he’s so bereft at your passing,” I told her.

  “I wouldn’t mind, but he added me on as an afterthought when he had finished mourning my six other guards.”

  “Give the lad a break,” Jinx said. “This is the first time he’s even mentioned them since you died.”

  “Don’t you find it a bit weird—them talking to a dead person, I mean?” Kubeck asked Shenanigans.

  “Them two are weird anyway, talking to dead people is only the half of it,” Kerfuffle said.

  “Shush,” Shenanigans said, giving me and Jinx an embarrassed smile. “He doesn’t mean it.”

  “Like hell I do,” Kerfuffle said.

  Vaybian tried to spear another potato and this one flew off across the room. “Little buggers,” he murmured. “Can’t catch ’em.”

  “Try using a spoon,” Jamie suggested.

  Vaybian peered at Jamie. “Oh, it’s you Guardian, where’s the Deathbringer?”

  “Across the table,” Jamie said, pointing at Jinx.

  “You know something,” he said, in what I think he thought was a whisper, then gestured for Jamie to come closer. Jamie leaned a little closer, wrinkling his nose as he caught a whiff of the alcoholic fumes coming off Vaybian’s breath. “He’s not half bad when you get to know him.”

  “Hell’s bells,” Jinx said, pushing his chair back from the table and stalking around to Vaybian.

  “Don’t you dare hurt him,” Kayla said.

  He gave her a “yeah, right” look and placed his hand on Vaybian’s forehead. “Sleep,” he said. The demon’s eyes drooped shut, and as soon as Jinx removed his hand Vaybian flopped forward onto his plate.

  “I suppose we’d better get him back to the palace,” Jamie said.

  “Let’s finish our supper first brother. I, for one, have a fine thirst on me.”

  “Hmm, so did he and look where it got him,” Shenanigans said.

  We went back to the castle—there being no other place to stay—dumped Vaybian on the couch in our chamber and covered him up with a blanket. Kayla sank down beside him. My guards all flopped on or in the huge bed, while I used the bathroom and then went into the dressing room to change into something more comfortable.

  The mirror told me I was still my demon self, and I supposed that at least Baltheza would be pleased if he saw me again before I left. To tell the truth, I was getting used to this different me. Though, seeing myself in the mirror did bring back to mind my still uncertain parentage. I guessed it was something I should speak to Kayla about, no matter how scared of her response I might be.

  I changed into a beige satin nightgown, and stopped in the doorway on the way out to take one last look at my reflection before blowing out the lamps. My reflection smiled at me.

  “Who am I?” I asked her. “Who were our parents?” If she knew any better than I, she wasn’t telling.

  In the morning, with Vaybian still looking a rather strange color, we packed up to leave. I had made a promise to the souls at Dark Mountain, and I intended to keep it. But before we could go anywhere, there was Kayla’s funeral to get through. It was to be a big affair, and although Baltheza hadn’t ordered me there, it was made apparent that I was expected to go by the delivery of several packages containing appropriate funeral garb to my chamber.

  In the Underlands it was customary for royal mourners to wear purple. The dress was not something I would wear by choice, but it was certainly beautiful and not at all flouncy. Apparently Baltheza had taken some notice of my tastes.

  And then, when I thought he couldn’t surprise me any more than he had already, he did so again.

  Beneath the packages containing the dress, the underwear, the shoes and all the rest of my funeral clothing, there was a small, red leather box together with an envelope sealed with red candle wax. I opened the envelope first.

  Lucinda, it read, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you are your mother’s daughter, so how could I not care for you in some small part? The item in the box was once Veronica’s and I thought you might like it as a keepsake. It was signed with a flourish—Baltheza.

  I opened the box with some trepidation. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if it contained something awful like a small withered body part. Fortunately, I was more than a little wrong. Inside the case was a beautiful gold ring lying on a navy velvet cushion. The stone was a translucent, deep green and polished smooth. It was oval in shape, but nestled in a heart-shaped setting. The rest of the band was plain gold—that was until you looked at it closely. On the outside it was engraved with intricate symbols that, to my inexperienced eye, could have been Celtic. On the inside there were two names—Kayla and Lucinda. She may have been absent, but those two words meant so much; they proved that she cared. They proved that she loved us.

  I slipped it onto my right ring finger and it fitted like it had been made for me. I raised my hand, splaying my fingers, to study how it looked, and for an instant I thought I saw a flash of red and gold fire from deep within the stone, but then it was gone, leaving me unsure if the glimmer of flames had been a figment of my imagination. It had, however, fired my curiosity—when I had the opportunity, I wanted to find out more about the enigmatic woman who had been my mother.

  I attended the funeral with my full guard, including Vaybian. Baltheza’s eyes narrowed when he saw him, but he passed no comment, and acknowledged Jamie and Jinx instead. I did notice that he glanced down at my hand, and upon seeing the ring gave a small smile, though again he didn’t remark upon it.

  I stood by Baltheza’s side throughout the ceremony and walked beside him as we followed Kayla’s casket to its final resting place in the family mausoleum, acting every bit the royal daughter. The fact that Kayla was wafting around me making sarcastic and amusing comments about some of the mourners was not helpful, and on several occasions I had to raise a hand to my face as if to hide my grief, when actually I was trying to stifle slightly hysterical giggles.

  We got ready to leave almost immediately after the funeral. There was little point staying around; Kayla may have been dead but
she certainly hadn’t gone anywhere, so my grieving process was on hold for the time being. Sadly I knew in my heart it was only temporary. I had seen the wistful expression on her face when the other spirits had passed over.

  “Everyone ready?” Jamie asked.

  “Where are we going?” Vaybian asked.

  “First stop: Dark Mountain,” I told him.

  Kerfuffle gave a theatrical shudder. “If I never see that place again it would be too soon.”

  “I know, but I promised I would release the souls of the Sicarii’s victims and I intend to honor that promise.”

  “You needn’t come with us, if you and Shenanigans want to have some time with your ladies?” Jamie told him.

  “I promised to serve Mistress Lucky,” Shenanigans said.

  “You’re allowed a few days off, Shenanigans,” I said.

  “It’s not like it’ll be dangerous,” Jamie said. “The Sicarii have all gone.”

  “Well, if you’re sure?” Shenanigans conceded, but I could see he was torn.

  “I’ll be fine. You two go and enjoy yourselves for a few days.”

  And so it was decided. Shenanigans and Kerfuffle were going to stay at the Drakon’s Rest and Kubeck was going to return to his family to let them know he was all right.

  I did draw Shenanigans and Kerfuffle aside to ask them if Kubeck had a wife I was keeping him from, but the largest of my demon guards gave me a toothy smile.

  “No, he’s going to see his brothers and cousins. They run a smithy together.”

  “A smithy? As in a blacksmiths?” They both looked at me, puzzled. “You know, where they make horseshoes, and I suppose swords and the like.”

  “Oh no mistress,” Kerfuffle told me. “They work in gold and silver.”

  “I’ve heard Kubeck and his family make some of the finest jewelry that’s highly sought after by the gentry,” Shenanigans confided. “I looked into it because I thought I might get something for Leila.”

  As for Vaybian, he stayed behind, though he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to do, and no one asked.

  “I’m coming with you,” Kayla told me. “Vaybian can’t see or hear me, and if he’s going to spend the next few days getting drunk I’d rather I wasn’t here to see it.”

  So we set off; me and Jinx riding on Pyrites with Kayla at the back and Jamie under his own wing-power. I rode up front, enjoying the sensation of having Jinx’s arms around my waist and his chest pressed up against my back. Jamie didn’t say anything, but he kept close beside us, and I did catch the occasional sideways frown, especially when Jinx whispered something silly in my ear that made me laugh. I tried to restrain myself as I didn’t want Jamie getting jealous; well—not much.

  We camped in the forest opposite the mountain for the night, rather than venture inside when it was dark. It was silly really, as without lamps it would be pretty damn dark anyway, but I didn’t want to find myself walking on dead people again.

  The next morning was a different story and I wished we hadn’t waited. Seeing the piles of bones and rotting corpses surrounding the mountain was far worse than I could have possibly imagined; worse even than the huge, foul pit full of the dead at the other temple. In the caverns beneath the monoliths there had been rats; here there were swarms of carrion crows and other scavenger birds, and seagulls hopping about the bodies. Their continual pecking and tearing at the remains of the dead made me want to retch.

  At first we tried scaring the birds away, but they just flew up in a flapping, raucous cloud and returned almost immediately after the first few shouts, ignoring us completely.

  “We should let Pyrites roast them,” Jamie said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

  So we skirted around the base, and the piles of feather-coated bodies, until we found the entrance again. Here there was a pathway through the dead where corpses had been heaped in careless piles, forming an obscene corridor of bones and moldering flesh. The smell was almost indescribable; something between rotting flesh and bird guano. I didn’t remembering it smelling so bad before, but then it had been a chilly night rather than a warm sunny day.

  Inside the mountain the temperature was frigid. Jinx went in first, carrying the lamp; Jamie and I followed behind, my hand gripped in his. Pyrites was to circle the mountain acting as a lookout. We doubted anyone would come, but decided we’d rather be safe than sorry.

  “I’ll go with him. The last thing I want is to be inside another chamber full of restless spirits,” Kayla said with a grimace of distaste.

  I was shivering, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold. The place reeked of evil, and the ruby rock passageway glowing in the lamplight could have been the entrance into hell.

  The main cavern was as we had left it and the three gray-robed Sicarii still hung from the crosses, their now desiccated entrails hanging in withered loops down to their knees.

  The echo of our footsteps as we crossed to the chamber gave me the creeps. It was as though we weren’t alone.

  “Let’s get this over and done with,” I said.

  Jinx stopped a yard or so before we reached the altar. “Something’s wrong,” he said, holding the lamp up high and turning full circle.

  “What is it?” Jamie asked.

  Jinx frowned. “I’m not sure. I just have a feeling all is not right.”

  “Can you see any spirits?” Jamie asked me.

  I looked around. “No,” I said. “No I can’t.” I closed my eyes and listened. “I can’t hear them either.”

  Then there was a voice: a quiet whisper in the air. “Scared.”

  “Why are you scared? I’m here to help you.”

  “Scared for you,” this time several voices said.

  “There’s nothing to be frightened of now,” I told them, “the Sicarii are all gone.”

  “There will be others. He will make others.”

  Jinx turned another full circle, this time very slowly, stopping when we were in front of him. “I—” he started to say, and then his brow bunched into a knot and he spun around to face the altar. “There are three Sicarii,” he said as he started toward the three gray figures. “There should be only two.”

  He was right: the two who had come to the villa and whom Jinx had cursed to die. Jamie and I followed after him as he drew closer to the Sicarii. This was bad. Every single one of my senses screamed at me to turn and run, but my feet weren’t listening to my brain; they continued to walk on.

  Jinx jumped up onto the dais and stalked around the altar to where the third Sicarii hung. Now I was paying attention I could see the third body was fresher. The entrails were still shiny and plump, and even thinking that had me feeling a little lightheaded. The robe had been ripped open from throat to hem, and even though the head wasn’t flopped forward like the other two, the victim’s face remained hidden by a gray baggy cowl. Jamie’s hand gripped mine all the tighter, and when I risked a glimpse in his direction his expression was one of grim anticipation.

  Jinx stood below the third figure looking up. He glanced over his shoulder at us, then turned his attention to the body and stepped toward it, tilting his head so he could see up into the cowl.

  He turned back to us. “I think I may need your help, brother,” he said to Jamie.

  Jamie and I moved closer. “Stay here,” he said when we reached the dais, then gave my hand a squeeze and left me.

  I wrapped my arms around myself. I was cold and I was scared; of what I wasn’t sure. The dead couldn’t hurt me.

  Jamie linked his hands together to give Jinx a leg up so he could reach the Sicarii’s cowl. Jinx hesitated a moment, then gripped the material of the hood between forefinger and thumb and pulled it back.

  “Oh bugger,” he said.

  “What?” Jamie said, unable to see as he was bent over, his hands entwined together holding Jinx up.

  Jinx was in my direct eye line so I couldn’t see either. I moved forward as Jinx hopped down and Jamie straightened to look up.

 
; “Shit,” he said.

  “Oh no,” I murmured and I had to turn away, though it was really too late for that. There are some images you never forget. This was going to be one of them.

  It was a set piece: Amaliel had known we’d come. He knew I’d have promised to release the souls of the dead and this is why he had taken time positioning the body so the head was held upright; so we—no, I—would get the full, face-on impact of what he had done.

  Philip Conrad’s sightless eyes stared ahead, his lips drawn back in a rigor grimace. The robe had been positioned so that when the hood was pulled back, the material would gape open to show the extent of his terrible injuries, and they were truly terrible. He had died badly.

  He had been alive when Amaliel had nailed him to the cross, and he must have had help to do so, so we knew he still had supporters. Philip had also been alive when Amaliel had sliced open his stomach, allowing his entrails to burst out of his body and slither down his legs. And he had been alive when Amaliel had cut open his breast, cracked open his ribcage and torn out his still beating heart. Only then had Philip sunk into the velvet darkness of death.

  Jamie wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. “I am so very sorry.”

  Jinx wasn’t so diplomatic. “He was a little shite, but no one deserves to die like that.”

  “So, now we know why he saved Philip over Henri: he knew there was one more way to hurt you,” Jamie said.

  “Even though Philip betrayed you time and time again,” Jinx lifted my chin to look at my face. “Sometimes you are too good for your own wellbeing.”

  “I can’t help it, it’s the way I am.”

  He caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “and I wouldn’t want you any other way. Now, let’s get on with what we came here for and do some good on this sorry day.”