The Widow’s Curse

by Lucas Flores

  “It’s easy. Quick and easy,” they all said in unison.

  Frozen in fear, Red screamed and put her palms over her eyes.

  Startled, the foreman took a step back. “What is wrong with you, girl?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with her, you bull,” the heads joked.

  Red shook her head and answered, “Nothing, ma’am.”

  “Good. Then hurry and get to work.”

  The heads joked and played on the foreman’s shoulders when Red turned and rushed away. “Look at her go,” they said. “Back to work, back to work,” they sang before bursting into laughter again.

  For those first few mornings, Red endured the foreman’s verbal lashings and, with some effort, was able to ignore the doll heads as they mocked her. But, on her seventh night in the nursery, Red learned how to avoid being late. Soft starlight beamed through the undraped window of the nursery. As she drifted to sleep, large eyes appeared out of nowhere and blinked. Then, a long grin unrolled under the eyes like a spiral coil. Next, four paws stepped one by one into existence out of thin air. The cat purred loudly and rubbed his head against Red’s outstretched legs. He climbed on top of her and asked, “Are you awake? Hello?”

  Red shrugged her body, causing the cat to slide off her.

  “How rude.” He pawed at Red’s face and meowed.

  Scared that she had been caught, Red jerked awake and looked around.

  “Look at what you’ve reduced me too,” the cat said. “You have me meowing like some hungry feline. If it were up to you, I would probably be hunting mice and covered in fleas.”

  “What?” Red asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Quiet,” the cat said as he pointed out the window. “Look and watch before you miss it.”

  “Look at what?”

  “I said be quiet and watch.” He pointed to a bright star with his paw. “Look at that star.”

  Red looked out the window. Tiny specs of light filled the night sky, but one was bigger and brighter than the rest. It shimmered.

  The cat illustrated the significance of that star. An image of the horizon and the night sky appeared right in front of Red’s eyes while he explained how the stars could be used to track time. “If the world slowly rotates, positioning the stars over you at a certain time, what does that make the earth?”

  “A clock!” Red exclaimed. “Right?”

  “And if that star passes through the panel on the window, then what does that mean?”

  Red scratched her head. “Hmm, I don’t know. What does it mean?”

  “It means you’re late.” His body vanished in the opposite order in which it first appeared. Last to disappear were his large yellow eyes.

  Red stared out the window for the rest of the night and waited for the star to pass. As soon as it did, she ran to her room and made it back just in time with a few minutes to spare before the bells rang.

  Once she started making it to her shifts on time, Red adjusted herself to sleep for only one or two hours at a time so she wouldn’t miss the star’s passage. However, one night, as Red lay next to the egg, the baby started babbling. It was cute and tolerable at first, but as the night progressed and as the baby continued, Red grew more and more exhausted and her patience wore thin.

  Red got up and walked to the crib. “Please be quiet. I have to be up in a few hours to work.”

  Wide awake, the baby babbled, kicked her legs, and swung her arms.

  “Please, oh please, be quiet,” Red begged. She looked around the room to find anything that might keep the baby quiet and still. “Maybe there is a bottle or a pacifier in here somewhere.” But Red couldn’t see anything. The room was too dark and she was too short to reach up to the shelves and dressers.

  “There has to be something. Hmm. There is probably something in that pile of toys that will keep her quiet.” She ran to the pile and looked for the right doll, or something, that would distract her sister and keep her from making any more noise. As she ransacked through the toys, she noticed that most were made of wood and ceramic. “None of these toys will work. They are far too rough and cold.” She looked for something warm and soft; something stuffed and made of cloth.

  “I got it!” Red clamped her hand over her mouth. She was mad at herself – she had just shouted in a quiet room next to the queen’s bedroom. She listened to make sure no one was coming. Her nerves eased. She walked back to the crib. “Here,” she whispered as she laid a soft, stuffed bear near the baby.

  The baby grabbed onto the stuffed toy and stopped babbling.

  “Finally.” Red sighed.

  Then, the baby started to kick, coo, and giggle just as she did before.

  “What? Why won’t you shut up?” Red pulled the bear away from the baby and startled her. The baby whined and cried.

  “No. Wait,” Red said. “Don’t cry. Please stop.” She put the toy back into the baby’s outstretched arms. “Here, please stop crying, I’m sorry.”

  The baby’s cries quickly turned into soft coos.

  “Whew.” Red sighed. “I hope no one heard you.”

  The baby chattered back, as if replying.

  “What? I don’t understand you.” Red finally gave up. She shuffled back to the egg. Before lying down, she looked at the crib and saw her princess doll head sitting on one of the crib’s posts. Although the head’s smile seemed to look brighter in the starlight, Red paid no attention to it. She was not about to let it keep her from lying down and resting.

  As the night progressed, Red drifted in and out of sleep. Each time she woke she would glance out the window to watch for the star. When the time was right and the star was near, she returned to her room in the West Wing with huge dark circles under her eyes.

  The weeks and months seemed to roll together as Red worked during the day and cared for the egg overnight. After some time had passed, the baby began to hold onto the rails of the crib when her older half-sister entered the nursery. Over time, the two developed a relationship. One they were not meant to have.

  One night, after Red was settled into a comfortable spot near the pile of toys where the egg sat precariously, a strange scratching noise filled the room. At first, she could not figure out what she was hearing. Disoriented and half asleep in the dark room, she sat up and looked around.

  “What is that?” Red wondered out loud. “And why is it so loud?” Once she regained her bearings and was fully awake, Red gasped. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

  The egg shuddered and slid from its place.

  “Wait.” Red leapt toward the egg as it wobbled and rolled away from her. When she reached out to grab it, the egg slid just past her fingers and gently thudded against the wall.

  “I knew this day would come, but now what am I going to do? I don’t know how to take care of a baby. Please don’t be cracked. Please, please, oh please.”

  With trembling hands, Red picked up the egg and pulled it in close to her body. In the dim light she scanned it for any noticeable cracks. She tried to not move the egg too much. Instead, she stretched her neck, twisted her face left and right, and squinted.

  One of the jewels broke away from the surface.

  “No, wait .. . . don’t,” Red whispered.

  Too late. The jewel slid from its place and fell to the floor. Time slowed as she watched the jewel float down to the ground. When it landed, a soft clink echoed upward and pierced through the silent nursery. Red’s heart stood still. The beast inside the egg shook. Then, like leaves falling from a tree, the rest of the jewels slid from their places on the egg and cascaded down onto the floor. Red closed her eyes tightly and tried to will the precious stones to stop falling. A stream of clinks and clanks bounced around at Red’s feet as the jewels hit the ground.

  When Red opened her eyes, all she saw was the golden egg riddled with cracks running in all directions. “Oh no,” she said.

  Devastated, she didn’t know what to expect or what to do. She knew the palace was no place to keep an animal. She watch
ed as the egg hatched. Brilliant rays of light beamed through the cracks and filled the room with streams of red and green. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

  “Oh, dear.” In a flurry of panic, Red darted out of the room with the egg. The only thing she could think of was to get back to her room so that the egg could hatch in the West Wing. There, she could try to feed it, keep it warm, or put it in water if needed. She would also have an easier time hiding it since strange noises filled the hallways of that area of the palace anyway.

  Red was so distracted that she did not even think about the guards standing in the hallway by the queen’s bedroom. Bright beams of light flashed across their faces as she ran past them.

  “Did you see that?” one asked.

  “Maybe it was the ghost!” the other shouted.

  Red was already down the hall and rounding a corner while they were still talking.

  She bumped into a table, causing a vase to crash behind her. She cringed but pushed onward. She managed to keep the egg beneath her cloak for most of the run back the West Wing.

  Once safely in her room, Red placed the glowing egg on her bed and shrugged her cloak off her shoulders, letting it slide to the ground.

  “Oh, what am I going to do with you?” She climbed onto the bed and sat next to the egg. “You do make a pretty night light though.”

  Every time the egg wobbled on her bed, the lights shifted from within so some of the cracks that emanated green light changed and produced red light. As Red admired the alternating colors, short repetitive scratching again broke the silence. This was the same scratching noise that woke her up earlier, but these noises were quicker. They were more frantic.

  Crack!

  A small piece of shell chipped off of the egg onto the bed. A small hole remained and emanated light just as the cracks did.

  Crack, crunch!

  A small finger, or what appeared to be a finger, protruded from the hole and made it bigger. Red reached out and touched the finger with one of her own. A surge ran up her arm and into her chest. “Ouch!” Red pulled her hand away from the egg.

  The red and green glow disappeared from the cracks of the egg.

  In complete darkness, she reached toward the egg and placed her palm on it. The colors flared back, brighter than before. The egg shook wildly under her palm. Pieces flew in all directions.

  “Eeek!”

  The glowing slowly diminished and for the first time Red was able to see what had caused the light. Two bright eyes, one red and the other green, blinked at her.

  CHAPTER 11

  Blackheart dismissed the guards and sighed heavily. “Why are they so incompetent?” she said before returning to the queen’s bedroom.

  “What did they want?” the queen asked in a quiet, monotone voice.

  “They said a spirit has been haunting the halls up here for months, but last night was the first night they actually saw it. It was an orb of green and red light that flew right by your door.”

  The queen rolled her eyes. “And did your guards follow this light?”

  “They told me they did,” Blackheart replied. “They said they had the spirit cornered before it attacked them.”

  “That’s preposterous, completely unbelievable,” the queen said. “The whispers that have been circling the palace about some ghost are just that, whispers.”

  “Well, Your Majesty, far stranger things have happened. One obvious example is sitting right across from you in the mirror.”

  “Poor boys,” the queen joked. “Did you change their diapers and tell them everything would be all right?”

  “Oh, please. Laugh now, but I have my suspicions. I’ll see you down in the courtroom,” Blackheart said before leaving.

  Blackheart followed her suspicions straight to the West Wing. The servants were already scattered throughout the palace working on their assigned chores, so the dark, damp halls were quiet and still.

  Blackheart sought out the foreman and found her resupplying the servant’s storage room. “Where’s our favorite red devil?” she asked, veiled in darkness.

  The foreman jumped and turned around. She cast her lamp toward Blackheart. “Your Grace. She’s out scrubbing the library floors.”

  “Are you sure?” Blackheart asked. “Come with me.” She led the foreman to Red’s bedroom and opened the door. “Are you sure she isn’t hiding in her room? Maybe she’s asleep, under your supervision?”

  The two walked in and looked around. To Blackheart’s surprise, they found nothing.

  “She’s not here,” the foreman said.

  “I can see that. I want you to find her. And when you do, send for me.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Blackheart grabbed the foreman and whirled her around until the two were standing nose to nose. “I said find her. Do you understand me?” No one other than Marie, Josephine, or Therese had ever questioned an order from her before. The foreman nodded.

  * * *

  Throughout the day, Red managed to find time in between her chores to sneak some milk into her room for the hatchling. Every time she checked in on it, the animal remained hidden, covered by a large pile of clothes and rags in a corner between her bed and the wall.

  At the end of the day, while unpacking the bag of food the chef had given her, she couldn’t help but stare at the animal. “I think it’s already started to grow! It looks a lot bigger now,” she exclaimed to Auntie. It looked like the animal was twice as big from when it first hatched.

  “I wonder what it is,” Auntie said while holding the animal. “I’m mesmerized by its colored eyes. Have you thought about what you’re going to do with it?”

  “I don’t know.” Red couldn’t help but smile. The animal never took its gaze off of her while she moved around the room. Even when Auntie was holding it, and Red walked behind her, the animal would squirm and twist around to see her.

  “Well, maybe when it’s big enough it will fly away, like a bird. That’s probably where it belongs,” Auntie said.

  “You’re right,” Red said. “I just want to make sure that it gets fed and grows up happy.”

  “You have such an amazing soul,” Auntie said. “I told you, you were meant to do great things. Didn’t I?” Auntie put the animal back down.

  Blackheart burst through the door with the foreman and a squad of guards behind her. “There you are,” Blackheart said. “And look at what we have here.”

  Auntie dropped her food and scooted back into the wall behind her.

  “Look at these two rats, feeding off my scraps.” Blackheart casually walked toward the center of the room. She looked down and saw the animal. “And what’s this?”

  “A rat, Your Grace,” Auntie answered.

  “Ha! A what? Where did this come from?” Blackheart smiled and looked down at Auntie.

  “It’s a rat. We found it here in the West Wing.”

  “Are you sure?” Blackheart’s smile faded. “It doesn’t look like a rat at all. It has the body of a cat, the head of a bird, and .. . . Are those wings?” She turned to Auntie. “I know exactly what this is, it’s a gryphon. So, let me ask you one more time, for your sake. Where did it come from?”

  Auntie looked away and shivered.

  Blackheart turned to Red. “Where did you get this creature?” Red refused to answer.

  Blackheart bent down, grabbed Red by the chin, and pulled her up to her feet. “Tell me now and I won’t cut your friend’s head off like I did to Marie.”

  Red persisted and remained silent until she heard her dolls call out to her. “Tell her. Go on, tell her,” they whispered. The voices grew louder. “Tell her. Go on, tell her. Tell her now!” They circled around Red and got progressively louder.

  Red covered her ears and screamed, “Stop!” She fell to her knees. “It hatched from an egg.” She told Blackheart where she found the egg. She explained how the cat led her to the nursery and how she looked after the egg every night until it hatched.

>   Blackheart’s mouth hung open and her eyes bulged. She paced back and forth and barked out orders before leaving the room. “Take this thieving rat and her friend to the tower. I’ll deal with them later. And take this animal to the stables, but be sure to have it in chains before it gets any bigger.”

  * * *

  Armed with a renewed hatred for the queen’s daughter, Blackheart rushed to the courtroom where the queen was in session with the governors.

  “It’s all your fault!” She pointed at the queen and spoke in choppy fragments as she put her thoughts together. “Your illegitimate daughter.”

  “What are you talking about this time, Elzana?” the queen sighed.

  “She’s the ghost!” Blackheart burst into insane laughter. “She’s the one who’s been haunting the second floor, skulking around at night when she’s supposed to be asleep in the West Wing.”

  The queen stood and picked up her scepter. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “She confessed and admitted it to me. That little red devil has been trouble ever since she got here. And that cat .. . . ” Blackheart said.

  “What cat?” the queen interrupted.

  “The girl claims a cat led her to the nursery. And you know, years ago, not too long after you gave birth to her, I found a leper cat in the West Wing. At the time, I was completely unaware of what was happening to you, but it told me that you were cursed. And now, I’ve just found out that a cat, probably the same leper cat, has been dealing with your daughter.” She purposefully failed to disclose the details about the egg and the gryphon. If it really was a gryphon, she would want to keep the mythical creature all to herself.

  The queen shifted her gaze from left to right before locking eyes with Blackheart. After a few seconds of unsettling silence, she lifted her hands and dismissed the governors. Everyone cleared out of the room.

  The queen plopped back into her seat. She took in a deep breath. “Are you certain it was a cat?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m certain,” Blackheart replied.