13 Curses

by Michelle Harrison

  “A fairy child?” Red whispered. “You had a fairy child?”

  Rose nodded bitterly.

  “Of course, I knew what was happening to me a long time before the baby was born, even though none of it made sense. At first I denied it could be possible, but it was futile. I remembered the strange little smile, his talk of fairies. How he’d been so fascinated by my name—and refused to give his.” She gave a wry smile.

  “After a little research it all made sense. He was a fairy, and he’d left me with a child. I was terrified. I had my life mapped out—I was going to be a vet. There was no room for a baby.

  “I told only my sister, your mother,” she whispered. “I couldn’t tell her the father was a fairy. Didn’t need to. She’d seen me dancing with the young man at the carnival and drawn her own conclusions.

  “I was desperate. Young, and foolish, barely more than a child myself. And Anna, who had been married to your father for four years already, was yearning for a child. It was she who suggested it. A perfect solution. I would go and live with them, hiding myself away until the baby was born, and meanwhile Anna would fake her own pregnancy and take the child when it was born.

  “It went like clockwork. Except when the baby was born, I knew I’d made a mistake. I didn’t want to give it up. I loved it as soon as I saw it… but by then, it was too late. I’d agreed to hand the baby over. I knew it would break Anna’s heart if I went back on my word. And so I didn’t—but it broke my heart instead.”

  “My parents had another child? Before me?” Red repeated.

  Rose shook her head, bringing her eyes to meet Red’s own green eyes, so very alike….

  “No, Rowan,” she said softly. “There was no other child. The baby I’m talking about… it was you.”

  Red recoiled.

  “It’s not true,” she whispered. “Tell me it’s not…”

  “I’m sorry,” Rose croaked. “I’m so sorry. You were never meant to find out, not like this. Not at all…”

  “You gave me up?” Red whispered, horrified. “You gave me away? How could you do that?”

  “Because I thought it was for the best.” Rose reached toward her pleadingly, but Red sprang away.

  “And James?” she asked, her lip quivering.

  “He was their son. Not your brother, but your cousin…”

  “NO!” Red shouted.

  “I made them promise, before you were born, that I could choose your name….”

  “Oh, big deal!” Red snarled. “You pass me off to someone else and then expect me to thank you for choosing my name? Does that make you a better mother, somehow?” Her mouth twisted at the word. “You’re not my mother. No! I don’t believe it—I won’t!”

  But the look on Rose’s face—the face that was so like her own, now that she knew the truth—convinced her otherwise.

  “I chose the name Rowan before you were born,” Rose continued. “I knew it would work whether you were a boy or a girl. Protecting you was all that mattered, and your name was the only way I could think to do it. Because it was my name, you see, that got me into trouble in the first place… the thing that brought him to me, like a moth to a flame. And so now I’m Rose. Just plain, ordinary Rose—”

  “No! It doesn’t make any sense—if that was true it makes me half fairy! I can’t be one…. I’m not! I can see them, I’d know…”

  Rose shook her head. “The name created a barrier, protecting you from everything—even from knowing what you were—and it stopped others with the second sight from seeing what you were—”

  Red had heard enough. With a choking sob she jumped up and ran through the cottage. Then she was outside, grabbing her bag from beneath the bush. As she ran back through the garden, out of the side gate past the dogs, she heard Rose’s voice calling after her desperately.

  “Rowan, come back! Please, come back!”

  She vaulted the front gate and ran, too late remembering the fox-skin coat. She’d left it behind, her source of glamour. Unmasked, exposed, a useless disguise. A pretense that was no longer valid… just like her real mother.

  Her whole life had been a lie, just one big mask of deceit. The fairies had known it, and let her enter into a bargain she could never win. For how could they give James back now? How could they give her brother back, if she’d never had one to begin with?

  Red went back to Elvesden Manor. She didn’t know where else to go.

  She forgot about the Highwayman, forgot about the last two charms. None of it mattered, because James wasn’t her brother and there was no way she could win the task. She had been defeated before she had ever begun, and the fairies had known it all along.

  She made no effort to try to get in secretively. She had neither the will nor the motivation, for by now she guessed that Tanya and Fabian would have told Florence the truth about what had really happened to Warwick. For the first time, she walked up to the grand front door. But as she reached out to knock, she stopped abruptly. Something wet and red was smeared on it.

  A chill ran through her. She hammered at the door.

  It was Fabian who answered.

  “Red!” he said, his mouth dropping open. “You came back—you’ve got to come quickly!”

  He pulled her inside, not giving her the chance to speak. The urgency of his tone alerted her that something had happened, and as he kicked the door shut she followed, feeling dazed and numb.

  “It’s Nell,” he said breathlessly, hurrying her toward the sitting room. “She’s in a bad way—we’re waiting for the doctor.”

  They went in. Nell was lying on the couch with her eyes closed, and she was taking deep, trembling breaths. Tanya and Florence were standing over her. Florence was holding Nell’s arm in the air and pressing a cloth to her skin which was rapidly soaking crimson.

  “Red? Quickly—the bracelet!” Tanya’s words came out in a rush. “Nell found the Dagger—but now she won’t stop bleeding!”

  Red jolted out of her haze as she took in the scene before her. She pulled the leather pouch out of her pocket.

  “I don’t understand,” she began. “How did Nell get involved…? Where is it?”

  Fabian pointed to a table next to the armchair. “It’s on there. It won’t stop… dripping.” He shuddered.

  The Dagger lay in a wet red pool that had spread to the edge of the table. As Red watched, it dripped onto the floor, soaking into the carpet like wine.

  Nell opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

  “Found it… for you,” she said weakly, and coughed. “Took some doing but I managed it. But somehow, the old scar on my arm opened up… so much blood… just kept getting worse—”

  “Sit back, now,” said Florence, easing Nell back into the chair.

  Red hurried over to the little table. Taking the bracelet out of the pouch, she dangled it over the widening pool, brushing it in the blood. They all heard it connect, and Red tucked it back into the pouch.

  Florence kept the pressure on Nell’s arm for a little longer, but it was clear to see that the color was starting to flood back into her cheeks.

  “Fabian, go and make some hot, sweet tea,” said Florence. “I think we all need a cup.” She looked Red up and down. “And you, girl, need a good meal inside you.” She shook her head, then turned back to Nell, cautiously lifting the towel. Beneath, Red saw an angry purple welt on Nell’s skin. Around it were layers of dried red-brown blood, but as Florence wiped away the sticky residue she gave a relieved sigh.

  “It’s stopped. The wound has healed up again.”

  She lowered Nell’s arm and rested it across her chest.

  “Just stay there for a few minutes,” she said kindly. “You’ve had a bad shock.”

  She motioned Tanya and Red out of the room, her finger to her lips.

  “She needs to rest,” she said, once they were out in the hall. She led them to the kitchen, where Tanya explained what had happened.

  “Nell found our notes about the charms in Fabian’s room,”
she said. “She went to the Highwayman on her own to search,” she said. “She wanted to do something to make up for her part in what happened to your brother. She rented the room the robber used to hide his stolen goods in and found the charm straight away—it was hidden in the chimney where the robber used to keep his stash. But as soon as she’d touched it, it began dripping blood… and not the healing blood of the treasure. With every drip from the Dagger, her old scar dripped too.”

  “So how did she get back here?” Red asked, dazed.

  Tanya flushed. “After you left, Fabian and I continued to search. We didn’t want to let you carry on alone, so the plan was to find it and meet with you when you got there. But instead we found Nell. The landlord of the Highwayman let me use the telephone to call my grandmother to come and get us—”

  “And finally tell me what was going on,” Florence interjected sternly.

  Fabian set a pot of tea on the table and poured from it. Red stared at her cup for a minute before mechanically lifting it to sip. It tasted of nothing.

  “What about you?” Tanya asked. “Did you find Elizabeth’s old cottage?”

  She nodded. “I found it, and the charm, and a lot more besides.”

  “Like what?” Tanya asked. “Why do you look so unhappy? There’s only one charm left to find!”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Red said quietly. “It was all for nothing.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Fabian.

  “It was just a game,” said Red. “A game I could never win, because James is not my brother. He’s my cousin. My whole life is a lie and the fairies knew it. They never intended to give him back.”

  “You’re not making sense,” Tanya said gently. “How do you know James isn’t your brother?”

  In fits and starts, the story came out. Once Red had finished, Tanya, Fabian, and Florence sat in silence.

  “So, you see?” she finished with a bitter laugh. “I’m not Rowan Fox and I don’t have a brother. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “But you are Rowan,” Tanya said passionately. “And James is still your cousin. He grew up with you and he loved you—does it matter that he’s your cousin and not your brother? If you say he belongs with you, then he does. And no one can change that.”

  “And you can’t give up now,” Fabian pleaded. “What about my father? He’s still there, and you’re his only hope!”

  “Exactly,” said Tanya. “We can’t leave Warwick there. You have to try, for his sake as well as James’s. We just need to find the last charm… the Book of Knowledge.”

  “I know where it is,” Red said softly. “The only place left that it can be.”

  “Where?” said Tanya and Fabian at once.

  “The last place the bracelet went to,” she said. “It’s in the great court in the fairy realm. The place where the bargain was made.”

  “Of course!” Fabian hit the table, upsetting his cup.

  Red stared at the pouch in front of her. Then, for the last time, she opened it and took the bracelet out.

  “I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll go back. There’s nothing more they can take from me now anyway.” And before she could change her mind, she slipped the bracelet over her wrist.

  Before her eyes, Tanya’s and Fabian’s faces and the kitchen of Elvesden Manor swam before her, as though she were viewing them from underwater. Colors and features merged into one great swirling pool, and she thought she heard Tanya call out to her, as if from a long distance away. New faces appeared, slowly coming into focus.

  She found herself kneeling, looking down at a marbled floor. Laughter echoed in her ears, and she followed it to two familiar thrones ahead of her. The fairy court had gathered once more, divided in its entirety, waiting expectantly. This time there were no masks, no festivities. Just her and the court, split evenly down the middle, and only one throne was occupied. The other remained empty, its only occupant a crown of withered brown summer flowers.

  As everything focused and sharpened, the figure in the winter throne stood, and Red looked up to meet the eyes of the young man who had worn the horned mask on the night the bargain was made. Now he wore a crown of berries and leaves, but still the horns, antlers in fact, were present. For the first time Red saw that they were not part of any mask, but part of him. He smiled down at her, and it was the smile of a predator—a wolf, or perhaps a fox. It was a triumphant smile, a victorious smile.

  “Welcome back,” he said in a voice as smooth as cream.

  Red got up, wrenching the bracelet off her wrist and throwing it to the floor.

  “There,” she said viciously. “There are your charms, your precious Thirteen Treasures. I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain. I’ve come for my brother—and for my friend.”

  The foxlike smile widened, more a baring of teeth than a real smile. The winter king clicked his fingers, and a goblin minion hurried to collect the bracelet from where Red had hurled it. Placing it on a fat velvet cushion, the goblin waddled over to the young man and bowed in a groveling gesture that made Red sick to her stomach.

  In a deft, theatrical motion, the bracelet was swept up into the horned man’s fingers, where he made a show of counting for the benefit of his audience.

  “Only twelve?” he said mockingly. “That is not what was agreed.”

  “That’s because the thirteenth is here,” Red answered, holding his gaze. “With you, where the pact was made. It never left the court.”

  “Clever,” said the horned man. “I’m impressed.” With a speed that stunned her he pitched the bracelet back at her.

  Somehow, with pure reflex, she caught it before it hit her in the face. Turning it over in her hand, she counted thirteen charms. The Book of Knowledge was now connected. The bracelet was complete. Yet she knew that the task was not. There was still one final curse to be delivered.

  “What happened to my brother?” she asked. “Where did he go when he was taken?”

  Anger welled up inside her as the horned man cupped his hand behind his ear.

  “I said, ‘Where’s my brother?’ ” she yelled. Her voice filled the courtroom, extending to every last dark corner. Things like rats and mice scurried out of the corners, disturbed from their sleep by her cry.

  The horned man relaxed in his throne, looking content.

  “But you already know the answer to that,” he said, his eyes like dark pools. “You don’t have a brother. You never did.”

  He laughed, and the court joined him. It was an ugly sound that rippled through the air. But she stood her ground.

  “I want to know what happened to him,” Red repeated. “I entered your agreement believing that child was my brother. So I don’t care what you say. It still stands. He belongs with me, and I love him. That makes him my brother, even if not by blood.”

  She trembled visibly, waiting for some terrible wrath to be unleashed. Curiously, there was none. The horned king put his head on one side and studied her.

  “You really want to know what happened to the child?”

  “Yes,” she croaked, aware that she was still holding the Book. The Book of Knowledge that would answer any question…

  “Bring forth the child!” the horned king roared.

  At the rear of the court a commotion broke out. Red turned to see two huge wooden doors that lay beyond the twisting staircase opening, and then three fairy guards stepped through, hauling a fey family with them. Red held her breath as they approached, herded like cattle to the front of the courtroom. The fairy woman was sobbing bitterly, and in her arms was a small, golden-haired child who was clinging to her in terror, his face buried in the woman’s neck.

  The man had his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to give some comfort—but Red could see his own eyes were brimming with tears as well. As they drew closer, stopping a short way from her before the throne, they were close enough for Red to see that the child did not share the characteristic pointed ears of the fairy couple. They were rounded, human… but as th
e woman reluctantly put the child down, Red’s heart sank as he turned.

  “James?” she whispered.

  The child regarded her—but with curiosity, nothing more. No recognition or love lit up his face. And Red saw that this child was far older than her brother, closer to six rather than the three James would be now. A mixture of emotions raged inside her: disappointment, and anger and resentment that the fairies thought they could deceive her with an impostor. But then she saw something that sent those feelings crashing down in ruins. On the child’s cheek, a birthmark the color of a tea stain and the shape of a fish… proof beyond proof that this was James.

  “Take him,” the horned king said, smiling widely. “He’s yours.”

  “No!” the fairy woman sobbed, dropping to her knees and pulling the child to her. She turned her face to Red’s, her anguish raw. “Please, don’t take him away from us, I beg you!”

  “We love him,” the fairy father said hoarsely. “He’s our son… our second son—our first son died! Please, he’s our only happiness….”

  Red swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. So James had not been taken for mischief, or pain, but to replace a child who was loved and lost.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. “But he was my happiness before he was yours.” She averted her eyes from the fairy couple and knelt before James.

  Turning to the throne she met with the triumphant gaze once more.

  “He’s older,” she said. “Make him the way he was.”

  The horned king spread out his hands in a gesture of innocence.

  “Time passes, and differently here. I cannot undo what is impossible. I cannot unmake the time that has passed.”