13 Curses

by Michelle Harrison

  “Why don’t you see if you can find a way into the church?” she said to Tanya, once Fabian had brought the shovels over.

  Tanya did not relish the idea, but it was preferable to sticking around while Elizabeth Elvesden’s grave was dug up. She vanished around the side of the church, leaving Red and Fabian staring at the ground.

  “Let me dig up the grass,” Fabian said at last. “I can do it in sections, so we can replace it afterward.”

  “You mean like turf ?” Red asked. “All right.”

  Fabian set to it, removing small, square sections of grass piece by piece. The dampness of the ground made it easy work, and thankfully the grass was holding together. Once enough had been removed, Red picked up the other shovel and they began to dig.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Fabian muttered. “We could go to prison, you know.”

  “We’d have to get caught first,” said Red, throwing another shovel of soil to the side.

  Soon they were three feet down into the grave. The deeper they got, the less they spoke, nerves overtaking everything. Soon Tanya returned from the church.

  “I think I’ve found a way in,” she said, purposely avoiding looking into the grave. “Around the back—there’s one of those narrow windows that doesn’t have any glass. It’s got mesh over it instead, but it’s coming away. We could probably pull the rest of it off. There are bottles of turpentine and things on the window ledge, so I think it must be a storeroom. It’s too narrow for an adult to get through, but I might be able to manage.”

  “We’ll try the church last,” said Red.

  Tanya turned from them and went to sit a little way away, near one of the other unconsecrated graves.

  “I don’t know how you can bear it,” she said. “I won’t be able to look when you open the coffin.”

  “There won’t be much left,” said Fabian. “The decomposition process would have happened much quicker back in those days when—”

  “Thanks, Fabian,” Tanya interrupted. “I didn’t want a science lesson.”

  Fabian shut up and carried on digging. As he struck the shovel deep into the earth, a loud rumble came from nearby. Red stopped what she was doing.

  “Whose tummy was that?”

  Fabian paused and looked at Oberon, who was sitting at the edge of the grave, looking in.

  “Not mine. It must have been greedy guts over there.”

  “He’s not greedy,” Tanya began crossly. “He can’t help having a big appetite—”

  The rumbling came again, louder this time and more of a shaking, rattling sound.

  “What is that?” Fabian said.

  There was another sound now, a creaking, groaning noise over where Tanya was sitting. She leapt to her feet at once with a shout.

  “It’s coming from… from underneath us!”

  All around the graveyard, the ground scratched and creaked and shifted. Roots shot up through the earth, and as Red looked down at the disturbed ground, she saw writhing masses of underground creatures oozing out of their habitats: worms, beetles, centipedes, and slugs. She shook a worm off her foot and stepped back, placing her hand against the side of the grave, then jumping and flinging away something slimy that it landed in.

  “What’s going on?” Fabian whispered. “It’s as though something’s driving everything out of the earth!”

  They got their answer that very second when Tanya screamed—a shrill, piercing sound that rang through the graveyard. Something long and pale had burst from the earth and brushed against Tanya’s ankle. Red grabbed her flashlight from the side of the grave and jerked it sharply in Tanya’s direction. It took a moment to aim it correctly, but when Red finally saw what it was, the flashlight slipped from her hand and fell to the ground.

  “Tell me that’s not a hand?” Fabian yelled. “Or to be more precise—a skeleton’s hand!”

  But that was exactly what it was. With a shout, Tanya started to run—as a second skeletal hand broke free from its grave and clawed at the air in front of her. She dodged it, only to be faced with another.

  Red opened her mouth to shout to her, but was silenced as the dirt beneath her and Fabian trembled.

  “Get out, now!” he yelled, pulling himself out of the grave. He reached for Red’s hand but she ignored it and remained where she was.

  “We must be near a charm!” she said. “It’s the only explanation—there has to be one in the grave! We can’t leave now!”

  “You’re nuts!” Fabian shouted. “We can’t stay here, look what’s happening—look around you!”

  “Exactly—we’re close!”

  Oberon yelped as bony fingers pushed through the dirt and skimmed his tail. He fled to Tanya’s side, whimpering.

  There was scratching beneath Red now, the scrabbling and tapping of bone on weak, rotten wood. Red heard it give, splintering as the thing inside that should be dead pushed against it, forcing it to yield. Then from the dirt a hand of ivory bone pushed its way into the night air for the first time in two centuries. Tattered fabric flapped at its wrist like an injured bird—the lacy remains of some once-grand burial dress that was now barely more than a cobweb.

  The hand reached around wildly, seeking something to grab that would help launch it from its grave. Red stood well back, rooted half in fear and half in determination. Another scratch, more splintering wood. A second hand, balled into a fist, escaped the depths of the earth. And within the gaps in the bones, something tiny and silver.

  “The Key,” Red whispered, the short hair on her nape rising like a cat’s. “Now it makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?” Fabian yelled, hopping from one foot to another, dodging the rapidly increasing number of hands appearing all over the graveyard. From the more recent graves came nothing but thuds and dull moans. These were the fresh ones, where the wood was still good and strong, keeping the contents in. And suddenly Red thought of her own parents, dead in the ground.

  “The Key can open other worlds,” Red said softly. Her fear ebbed away with understanding. “It’s opened the world of the dead, bringing us to them, or perhaps even them to us. We don’t have to be afraid of them.”

  Tanya had jumped on top of a large, square plaque that was high off the ground, and was surveying the graveyard like she was on a stony island surrounded by sharks.

  “How can we not be afraid when they’re coming back… from the dead?” Fabian squeaked as he dodged another bony hand.

  “Because that’s all they are,” Red said simply. “They’re dead. Look around you, look at their names. Look at how they died.” She turned and read from the grave nearest to them, inside the walls of the yard. “ ‘Thomas Goodfellow, died 1907 aged thirty-six. He gave his life to save another.’ These aren’t demons, or ghouls out to get us. They were just people, like us. We don’t need to be afraid of them—even though that’s what the fairies want. They wanted us to be scared and to run away—but I won’t.”

  She bent down and, bracing herself, reached out and gently touched the clenched bone hand with hers. It was cold and smooth, and at her touch it opened like a flower to reveal the charm. Her jaw dropped as she saw that the link was connected to a fine bone, and for a moment she wondered how she was going to get it off. Then she remembered how the bracelet worked. Pulling it out, she brushed it against the dead hand of Elizabeth Elvesden, and as she pulled it away, the charm came with it, back in its rightful place on the bracelet once more.

  With its reconnection the life went out of the dead. Skeletal hands and feet—and in one case a skull with raggedy tufts of hair still attached—sank back into their graves, sighing to be at peace once more. Soon, only one remained: the one holding on to Red’s own hand.

  “Rest in peace, Elizabeth,” she said softly, releasing the hand. It remained momentarily, then retreated back into the ground like a snail drawing back into its shell.

  “You’re brave, Red,” Tanya murmured, climbing down from where she had perched.

  “They
were just people,” Red repeated, looking down at the bracelet. “That’s all.”

  “I still think you’re nuts,” said Fabian, but his voice held a grudging admiration. He scuffed a clod of earth back into its rightful place, then paused to scan the rest of the graveyard. “A lot of the ground is disturbed. We should try and put it all right again.”

  “Yes,” Red agreed, clambering out of the hollow grave where she still stood. She folded the bracelet into the leather pouch and picked up her shovel again, heaping the soil back in. Tanya and Fabian skirted around the yard, filling in clumps of overturned dirt and turf. Finally, when all the soil was replaced in Elizabeth’s grave, they covered it with the grass turf they had taken off to start with.

  Afterward, Red’s clothes clung to her skin, damp with sweat. She was exhausted. Tanya and Fabian didn’t look much better off; Fabian had smeared dirt above his upper lip, giving himself an extraordinary moustache, and Tanya was shivering with cold and looking longingly back in the direction of the manor.

  “Go back if you want,” said Red, but not unkindly. “Both of you. But I’m staying. While I’m here I’m going to try and search the church.”

  Tanya shook her head, her hair dancing around her face in windblown tangles.

  “We’re in this together.”

  Red felt a rush of warmth for them both. A dull ache began in her throat, and she swallowed it away before it crept into her voice.

  “Let’s go, then,” she said gruffly.

  Tanya led them to the side of the church, past a stone well with a battered bucket. Tucked away in the church wall, as she had described, was a tiny window roughly an arm’s length higher than Red was tall.

  “You think you’ll be able to squeeze through that?” she asked Tanya doubtfully.

  “I might,” said Tanya. “It’s worth trying.”

  “We need to get rid of that mesh first,” said Fabian.

  “Hmm,” Red agreed. She lifted her shovel, using the handle end to batter at the mesh. It was tough, but the tears had weakened it and eventually it gave. Bottles and jars balanced on the windowsill crashed and smashed to the floor on the other side.

  “We could probably go to prison for that too,” said Fabian resignedly.

  Tanya took her jacket off and handed it to Fabian, turning to Red. “I need you to give me a leg-up.”

  Obligingly, Red moved closer to the wall and linked her fingers together. Tanya stepped into the foothold Red had created and launched herself toward the window, grabbing the sill. She pitched herself onto it, balancing precariously on the narrow, sloping ledge and gripping the sides until she was secure. Already, Red could see that Tanya’s slim frame would fit through easily.

  “Pass me a flashlight,” Tanya said.

  Fabian handed her one, and she shone it through the narrow slit.

  “It’s a storeroom,” she said. “There’s lots of bottles and a mop and bucket. And there’s a door—it’s closed but maybe it’s unlocked. I’m going in.”

  “Wait,” said Red, grabbing her ankle. “First make sure there’s something for you to stand on to get out, in case you can’t go through that door.”

  Tanya leaned farther through the window, lifting the flashlight.

  “There’s nothing… oh, wait—there’s a chair. It should be high enough to get back up.”

  “All right.” Red released her ankle. “Be careful. If you notice anything odd, anything at all, come straight back out.”

  Tanya slithered through the window, twisting to get her legs through, followed by her shoulders. Then she vanished into the dark window altogether and they heard her drop nimbly to the floor. Through the window they saw flickering light from Tanya’s flashlight, and then came the sound of a door creaking open. After that the light vanished and there was silence. Oberon sat very still, his head cocked to one side and his eyes trained on the dark spot that Tanya had vanished into.

  Red and Fabian waited, increasingly anxious with every moment that Tanya was gone.

  “What if she’s found something?” said Fabian. “What if she’s found another charm… and there’s now some horrible curse on her? How will we get in to help her?”

  “She won’t go near it if she sees it,” said Red, but inwardly she was worried. Tanya was impetuous—and from what had happened earlier, she knew that none of them would need to get too near to a charm for it to take effect. Worse still, Tanya was alone, and there was no way for Red or Fabian to get in and help her.

  She called Tanya’s name a couple of times and listened for a reply. When none came, Fabian started to chew his fingernails and Red began to pace back and forth.

  “That’s it,” she said finally. “Fabian, come here. I’m going in after her.”

  “You won’t fit,” Fabian snorted. “It’s way too small for you—too small for me, even.”

  “I’ve got to try,” she said. “Give me a lift up.”

  With difficulty, Fabian linked his fingers together, mimicking the way Red had for Tanya, and hoisted her into the air. It was a clumsy attempt. Fabian wasn’t strong enough to hold her and she failed to get a grip on the window ledge. She slid back down the wall, skinning her palms and bumping her knees, while Fabian ended up with his hands full of mud from her boots.

  “What are you doing?” a bemused voice asked.

  “Coming to look for you!” Fabian retorted as they spun around to see Tanya watching them.

  “There’s a side door,” she said, beckoning. “It’s got one of those old-fashioned latches and a bolt—it was jammed at first.”

  They followed her around the other side of the church to where a studded wooden door was ajar in a narrow stone archway. The door was very small, a testament to how old the place was. Tanya was the only one of the three who did not need to duck as she went through it.

  Inside the church was no warmer than outside. Red was anxious. If they were caught in the church they were likely to get into a lot of trouble. Their only advantage was that the church really was quite isolated, a good half-mile from its closest neighbor in any direction. But the thought of being caught, this close to finding James, made her exceedingly twitchy.

  “I’ve found the lights,” said Tanya. “Shall I put them on?”

  “No,” Red answered. “Just stick to the flashlights, and keep them low.”

  It was a simple church, laid out in a T shape, with plain wooden pews and an equally plain altar adorned only with a lectern and a low, wide table. There was little that looked to be of value; even the candlesticks on the table were brass. The one thing of beauty was a vast stained-glass window high up on the wall, overlooking the entire church. Once or twice their wayward flashlight beams caught it, lighting up the vibrantly colored glass. Against the wall below it was an area of scaffolding where some kind of work was in progress.

  “Is it even safe to be in here?” said Tanya. “What are they doing to that wall?”

  “Looks like it’s being restored,” said Fabian, nodding to a pile of new bricks in a crate nearby. “The stonework is all crumbling and weathered. The wall must be breaking down gradually.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” said Tanya, turning away from the scaffolding.

  “If there’s a charm here we’ll find it,” said Red. “I’m certain of it.”

  They shone the flashlights under the pews and over the hard floor, even conducting a fingertip search on hands and knees until their knees bruised and their hands were numb with cold. The air grew even cooler as the time ticked by. The night was ebbing away from them.

  “I think we should give up,” said Fabian. “There’s nothing here.”

  They neared the far wall with the scaffolding once more, sweeping their flashlights around one last time. On their way toward the door Oberon jumped up at the scaffolding suddenly, nosing past two sticky workmen’s mugs and into a half-eaten packet of cookies. He wolfed down one or two before Tanya got to him and pushed him down. It took both hands for her to wrestle the greedy d
og away, and in doing so, she placed her flashlight on the scaffolding. Only when she went to pick it up again did Red notice what the flashlight’s beam had picked out.

  “Stop,” she said, her eyes fixed on the wall.

  Tanya followed her gaze, and Fabian, who had been almost out of the side door by then, hurried back over.

  Lodged between the crumbling stonework, something small and silver was directly in the light from the flashlight.

  “It’s the Staff,” Red said, peering closer. Her voice was steady though her insides were not. “The Staff for strength.” She clambered onto the scaffold and edged over to the wall. “It’s wedged between the stones.”

  “Can you pull it out?” Tanya asked.

  “That’s the whole point,” said Red. She touched it very gently. Only a small section the length of her thumbnail was visible, along with the link. The rest was buried beneath the stone. She felt her forehead prickle with a sudden sweat. “If we pull it out, we don’t know what damage it could do. The wall’s obviously unstable or it wouldn’t need repairing. If we remove one of the stones to get to it, the whole thing could collapse.”

  “The Staff for strength in a weak wall,” Fabian said grimly. He pulled himself up next to her and leaned in to touch it.

  “Careful,” Red snapped. “We need to think about this.” She pulled out her knife and ran the point of its blade around the edges of the stone. Even with only this light pressure, the mortar holding the stone in place crumbled a little, a fine dust falling to the wooden scaffold.

  “It’s brittle,” said Fabian. “We could scrape it away and have the stone loose in no time.”

  “Getting it out is easy,” said Red. “All we have to do is touch the bracelet and it’ll reconnect. Doing it with enough time to get away if the wall comes crashing down is the problem. If it came in on us, we could get killed.”

  “Not if we’re fast enough,” said Tanya, absentmindedly giving Oberon another cookie without really meaning to. “The scaffold would act as some kind of support and buy some time—enough to grab it and run.”