by Antara Mann
“Would you?”
“For sure.” After he saw the disappointment written on my face, he hurriedly added, “You know better than anyone else what’s at stake. Besides, he wasn’t a saint, you know.”
I had to agree grudgingly. I remembered how cruel Garrett had been and that he’d tortured information out of others, but I couldn’t help but disapprove of violent methods. Maybe I was too soft-hearted for this world.
“How was he able to kill himself? I mean, didn’t you guard him or something?” I asked the fae, hoping to distract myself.
“It was toward the end of the fight. You had just blacked out, the inferni had mysteriously teleported, the ogres were still fighting with the remaining hooded supernaturals, and I had to pacify the dragon. The bastard took advantage of my distraction and cut his throat with a dagger he took out of magic knows where.”
I laughed at the fae’s comment, but my chest movement caused me back pain, and fatigue washed over me. Strange, considering how long I’d slept.
“And FYI, Garrett was frantically chanting some infernal verses. Speaking of which, how do you feel?”
His question kinda woke me up from my dozing.
“Well, weak. I don’t recall what happened after the blue light moment. Did Angus curse me or something?”
Kagan stared into my eyes for some time, his face inscrutable, and replied very slowly and clearly, “Yes.”
A simple and concise answer. I gulped and became aware of the lump at the back of my throat.
He added, “It was a very powerful curse, and that’s why you collapsed. You’ve been unconscious for a few days and you might have stayed that way if Awen hadn’t come up with a solution. He brought out an ancient healing mask and put it on your face — one he’d acquired thousands of years ago from an African goddess.”
I fidgeted, trying to digest that information.
An African healing mask?
“Yes. A lot of African-origin wooden art is dark and evil,” the fae replied in response to my thought, “but this one is meant for healing.”
“And where is it? The mask, I mean.”
His lips creased into an enigmatic smile. “You absorbed it, or rather your magic did.”
I raised my eyebrows and touched my face. Everything felt normal and as it should be. My skin didn’t feel wooden or anything. I also reached inside me, trying to decipher my magic. Did I feel different? Apart from the fatigue, I wouldn’t say there was anything new about my powers.
“So, that mask healed me and that’s it? It’s used up now?”
“Yeah — it barely touched your skin, and you drifted from restless unconsciousness to a calm sleep. Your magic gradually absorbed it, and a few hours later you woke up.”
He leaned over me and lowered his head, pressing his lips onto mine. His lips’ touch was soft and tender. Too soon, he pulled away, took my hand in his and sighed.
“He cursed my friends and everyone I love,” I said as the memory slammed into me, and immediately regretted voicing my thoughts. “Wait — now that the mask has healed me, did it also lift the curse or...?”
The fae pressed his lips together, worry and tiredness visible in his beautiful features. Suddenly, I wanted to hug him, to feel his warmth... “It's okay, sweetheart. Don't worry about these things. Now you need to rest. We’ll deal with that curse as soon as possible, I promise.”
I felt he wouldn't tell me more, and given my weakened physical state, I decided to not press the issue. I changed the subject and asked him about Kai — how he’d reacted to the news of his brother and own creation’s betrayal. I guessed he must have hit the ceiling, his face more crimson than Burgundy wine.
Kagan waved his hand dismissively. “The chief demon was furious, even killed a bunch of humans in one of his Hells. But still, he can’t track down Angus. The inferni’s using concealment charms. Both courts are worried about Angus since he clearly will stop at nothing to achieve his goal, i.e. the magical apocalypse. We also think he intervened in the supernatural energies for the past few weeks, probably through infernal rituals, and thus unleashed a series of demoniacal and vampires’ attacks. The Morrigan is worried he might recruit, so to speak, some of those frenzied supernaturals for his cult.”
“This reminds me. How many ogres did his minions kill?”
“Three, but we arrested only two hooded men, one of whom is your favorite, Blondie.” He winked at me and I laughed, this time careful not to make any abrupt movements.
“They didn’t kill themselves?”
“No reason why they should. They didn’t know any more than what the psychopath Garrett was telling them. One was a new member, the other — an old one. Both had met Garrett through the Hellfire Club.”
“Ah, I see. And what about Ryan?”
“Well, we interviewed the summoner and checked the Council’s records. He was the son of a warlock who was killed nearly twenty-five years ago, so the information matches. Ryan said his father didn’t know Angus was after a magical apocalypse. He thought Angus wanted a revolution and to replace Kai as the head of the Court of Hell, and the warlock agreed to help because Angus promised him more power than the one he had under Kai’s leadership. However, when the warlock learned about Angus’ true plans, he fought him, but naturally Angus killed him. It seems Angus has learned his lesson from Ryan’s father: never to trust a sidekick again. Ryan had been a child when this happened and swore to avenge his father’s death. For years he was searching for a way to get closer to his father’s killer. He hung out with dark supernaturals, and acquainted himself with Derek a few years ago. The latter introduced him to Garrett, and thus, Ryan infiltrated the inferni’s cult. Along the way, he received instructions.”
“But it seemed Angus trusted Garrett,” I remarked.
“As you know, Garrett was different: a total zealot,” he said, and we both nodded in agreement.
“And what about Ryan’s hatred toward me? Was that also part of the plan or some crazy instruction from Garrett?”
“He had to be an asshole to you because, if he hadn’t been, it might have blown his cover.”
“Did he say that?”
“It wasn’t necessary. I can read between the lines.”
I relaxed and suddenly felt very empty. Disappointment settled in my heart. It seemed to me we hadn’t advanced very far in our fight against the inferni. True, we’d killed Garrett, or rather he’d killed himself — one less evil to worry about — but the curse Angus had put on me didn’t exactly make me feel at ease.
“If nothing else, the relations between the Morrigan and Kai have improved. They are united now against a common enemy,” Kagan tried to soothe me, but it had no effect; the pit of my stomach was as tight as a knot, the taste in my mouth bitter, and I felt restless.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you something else. I wondered how it was possible that, in the midst of our fight, I was finally able to unleash my goddess magic. I mean, before your arrival, I tried to connect with it several times, but all in vain — the infernal power in the dark cavernous space was off the charts. What changed when you came in?”
Kagan stared into my eyes for a few long seconds, then said, “I was surprised, too.” He hesitated and added, “I believe my presence and power have lowered the grip of Angus’ infernal power on you and enabled the release of the goddess magic inside you.” He paused for a second then added haltingly, “I’d say our intimate relationship also played a role in boosting your power. And maybe the dragon’s magic helped you a little, too. You know the saying, even a single candle’s light can dispel the darkness.”
I smiled. “You are very Zen today, babe.” I let my eyes close and began to drift away — the battle, the encounter with Angus and his insane magic had exhausted me.
Kagan hesitated and took a step toward the door, but I caught his hand before he could get away. I opened my eyes and fixed him with my gaze. “I sense there is something you aren’t telling me." I paused and hesitated before I added,
“It's about the curse, isn't it?”
He shook his head. “Tomorrow, sweetheart. You’re exhausted and need to rest. Sleep tight.”
“I’m not a child, you know?” I kept my grip tight on his hand, and he sighed.
“Sometimes you are so stubborn.”
“All Sagittarians are. Get used to it,” I teased him.
“Okay. If you want to trouble your mind before falling asleep, here you go. Yesterday, I had a talk with the Morrigan. She called me, said it was urgent. I’d told her about Angus’ curse, and she warned me the curse was very powerful and dangerous. We need to lift it.”
“So far, so good, but the million-dollar question is how?”
“The Morrigan also told me about a somewhat similar, but lesser curse she encountered many centuries ago. But that time it was cast by an ordinary demon on an angel — apparently they’d had a forbidden romance, and the angel had ended the relationship when the courts had gotten wind of it. The demon cursed the angel. He denied her any happiness and cursed her to die in the most gruesome misery. The chief goddess said the angel had to go to an African shaman to lift the curse from her energetic and karmic body. And once that was accomplished, she had to kill the demon, her ex-lover.
“But in your case, it is a little more complicated. You know how insanely powerful Angus is. By having a shaman neutralize the curse on you, we will remove the invisible infernal thread that Angus had bound you with, the thread that will prevent you from killing him. In the end you'll have to kill Angus since the curse is part of him and lives in him. If you fail, you'll…” his voice trailed off and it made me uneasy.
A foreboding feeling nestled in my heart. “I’ll what?”
“You’ll die a gruesome and painful death, slowly and methodically. That is, of course, if you don’t die at Angus’ own hands. And so will…”
“My friends and loved ones,” I finished for him, my voice grim. Bastard! Apparently, I wasn’t enough. He had to torture my friends as well.
Kagan clenched his jaw. “Angus is smart. He knew you wouldn’t risk the happiness of the people you love. He used your weakness — your love — to instill fear and dread in you and to make sure you will go looking for him eventually, because he knows how it must end. But we will thwart his plans. It’s of utmost importance that you lift the curse and kill that abomination. And you will.”
Epilogue
I spent the following two days recovering, and finally, on the third day, my birthday, I felt well enough to go back home.
Awen had told me I’d been born in the evening, past 10 p.m. — 10.50 to be precise — so I was technically not quite twenty-five yet. I was glad to be already back to my normal self — out of bed, healed and full of vigor. I had the African healing mask to thank for that, and Awen’s intuition.
Still on sick leave from work, I ambled unconcerned to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. One step in, Naomi grabbed me in a bear-hug and wished me a happy birthday. She had made me a dairy-free, vegan cheesecake, and I was, of course, moved. To my surprise — considering I wasn’t vegan and was generally skeptic of such a lifestyle — the cake was quite delicious.
Kagan had called me earlier and sent his best wishes, too, and we arranged to meet later in the evening. Awen visited me and gifted me with one of his ancient tomes titled Song Magic. It was a handy book to have. From the little I’d rifled through, I learned about my bond with dragons and that I could command them through song.
In the early afternoon I took a stroll in the woods just outside town. When I got back, the place was unnaturally quiet. Even our bookshop was apparently closed. I was about to call my best friend, when Noe jumped out from behind the front door, showering me in streamers. Kagan, Awen and even Desmond — Noe’s boyfriend — surprised me by blowing their whistles. They all wore birthday hats and hurried to put one on my head, as well, as they ushered me inside.
The party took place in our kitchen. My friends had prepared a feast for me. The table groaned under bottles of alcohol, mounds of chocolate, bowls of chips, French fries, crackers and whatnot. Naomi was our DJ for the evening.
We chatted, ate and drank, and Kagan and I danced for a while.
The party lasted till about 10.30, then Awen said goodbye. Desmond excused himself, too, saying he had some work to do. He kissed my best friend and she saw him to the door. Kagan stayed with me, though. He turned to me when we were finally alone.
“So this is the big night, huh?”
“You mean, when I’ll turn twenty-five and my magic will change?”
A glowing smile spread on his lips. He kissed me tenderly on my forehead, his lips soft and tempting.
“Good night, Alex,” he said mysteriously and teleported away.
I was all alone now. Noe’s voice drifted from the front door as she talked to her boyfriend. I sighed, smiled, and went up to my apartment. My wrist watch showed 10.45 p.m. — soon my real birthday gift would kick in.
I lay on my bed, happy and content, butterflies fluttering in my heart and a smile on my face. I closed my eyes. The past few days had been crazy as hell, and I didn’t want to recall the fighting scene in that underground space. Ugh!
Suddenly, the thread in my center tugged at me like there was a magnet inside it and my clothes were made of metal. I tried to slow down my breathing and steady my magic, but in vain — it was running wild, wanting out. So, this was it?
My head buzzed with multiple questions: What should I do? Aren’t there any instructions? Maybe I had to call the fae or my mentor? Or maybe go to Noe and ask her advice as a hedge-witch?
I instinctively closed my eyes, and the magical pull in my chest increased. My whole body felt like a large spinning top. A magical flare shot up from my hand quite unintentionally, and a big swirling magical circle manifested before me, its edges shimmering and vibrating. A beautiful looking young woman dressed all in white, with a laurel crown on her head, appeared before me, her magic prickling my skin, giving it a significant boost. Her magical signature was so familiar and yet so foreign…
“Hi, Alex,” she greeted me. “Happy birthday, love.” Her face creased into a smile and she winked at me. I recognized her at once — it was my inner voice, the link to the goddess inside me. I was so stunned, so overwhelmed by emotions that words were failing me.
“W-what is happening?” I managed to stammer out.
She smiled and said calmly, “We are merging. We won’t be two different entities anymore.”
“Hmm,” was everything I could muster as a reply. I was too shocked for anything more coherent. I was surprised I managed to keep my heart rate steady. “Umm, do I need to do something?” I asked after a while.
Her smile spread even wider. “No, love, everything will happen on its own. You just need to stay awake and maintain eye contact with me, that’s all.”
I relaxed a little, but I was still on pins and needles. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled brighter, and the longer I stared into them, the more I thought I was seeing the whole universe in them — different planets, stars and orbits, even the odd black hole.
The magic in my chest hammered like the fastest Japanese monorail and I swallowed hard. Then, when I thought my heart would jump out of my chest, a big white-yellowish circle resembling a magical thread formed around us. Its edges swished and sizzled, sending high-voltage waves to my body. The thread sparkled even brighter, its power blinding me.
“Now,” she said.
A new magical flare shot from my fingers and lightning left me sightless for a second. I closed my eyes praying everything would be fine. The heat inside me rose, and a new, strange sensation of lightness and super agility prickled my skin, overwhelming my body and mind. I felt so light, so powerful, so… invincible. Yet, I was still me. I knew myself.
When the energy had calmed down, I opened my eyes and was again alone in my room, but I felt completely different. I went to the large mirror and looked at myself. The same youthful face was staring back at me, but w
hen I looked at my eyes, their glow and color surprised me; purple flames danced in them as if they foretold my new powers and skills.
I smiled and called that new force inside me. It came bubbling to my fingers, flowing like a deep river. I knew I could do whatever I wanted from now on; moon phases didn’t matter to me anymore.
I just needed to tame this force — this was what the inner voice would have told me, but now it came to mind like a normal thought.
I had indeed become Andred’s daughter — I was a goddess.
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About The Author
Antara Mann started writing at the age of seven. Nowadays, when she's not reading and writing, you can find her practicing yoga, as she has developed a keen interest in self-improvement, spirituality, and becoming a better human being. She enjoys writing fantasy and paranormal suspense stories and believes in unity in diversity. In her opinion, the best books and stories are crossovers between genres.
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