by K. C. Cross
And this is how it goes.
One step forward, two steps back.
There is another way to open the doors. But I have never told anyone about that. If I were the one who could enter the tombs I’d be partying with Tarq right now. But it’s not me who can get in, it’s the caretaker.
I have never told the caretakers about that other way because I don’t trust them
The slave caretaker and I are bound to each other. We’re supposed to be powerful. But it has never worked. We were made enemies, but forced to be together. And the caretaker has certain duties. They are supposed to make me happy.
They just never do. Even when they perform the tasks I assign them.
It’s like a cruel joke.
The ring does work for leaving the grounds. As long as the slave caretaker has the ring on, he can walk through the gates. And as long as I’m with the slave caretaker, I can walk through those gates too.
I can’t stay away long. Grant and I did many experiments on this back when he was new and eager. Four hours is about the limit. And fifty miles. Anything further away or longer in duration and I just disappear and end back in my tomb like I never left.
The nearest town is Granite Springs, and that’s as far as I’ve gone in almost thirty years. There is no point in venturing further. And I’m not really interested in the wider world. I want the curse lifted, but I am a creature of another time. What happens to me if I do escape?
I didn’t think about this much until Grant came along. The world is always changing, but the events and discoveries of the past fifty years have been something like a fiction.
And every time I think about what’s happening out there, the word ‘magic’ comes to mind.
Two thousand years I’ve been in this world and only the last fifty or so have been able to stun me silent.
I place my hand on Tarq’s tomb where the door should be. “Open,” I command it.
But, of course, it does not respond.
I sigh and look around at the other tombs nearby. I don’t know any of the monsters in this cemetery. And new tombs pop up all the time. Who is putting them here, I have no idea.
Are they dead? Do they see me out here? Can they hear me?
I would like to think they can. I would like to think that Tarq waits for me to come and tell him the news.
But it’s unlikely.
Even if I do get the tombs open, there’s probably nothing in there but bones. Or worse, they are empty.
I look down the hill at the flickering lights of the cottage. I like it, I decide. The look of it being used. It’s depressing to look around and see nothing but darkness down there. Sometimes, when the moon is full, I can make out the shimmer of light on the surface of the lake that lies just beyond the walls.
But tonight, there is no moon so if that girl was not in the cottage, it would be dark and depressing.
I sigh again, then pat Tarq’s arm. “I have a lot to tell you, friend. But not tonight.”
Then I turn away from him and start walking towards my own tomb, ready to go inside and go back to sleep. But I catch sight of the cathedral out of the corner of my eye and turn that direction instead.
When I get inside, I go up the stairs and right back into the apothecary room. Tomas is asleep on the lounger, an open book lying over his chest like he was reading it.
It’s Grant’s last notebook.
I pick up the book and leave the apothecary. But I don’t know where to go. There are no lights in my tomb, so that’s out of the question. Across the great hall is the greenhouse. Not a place one reads, so I strike that off the list.
There are some benches around the perimeter, but they are made of stone. And why should I stay in this room? This cathedral is as big as a palace. Hundreds of rooms tucked away down long hallways or up hidden staircases.
They are all magical, of course. All cursed, right along with me. You never know what you’re going to find when you explore the hidden interior of Saint Mark’s Sanctuary.
But at least you know none of it can kill you since the curse won’t let you die. So I walk down the stairs one more time, but instead of going outside, I turn and look behind me. There are three staircases. The center staircase leads up to the great hall. But it’s the other two I’m interested in.
I’ve been up both before but it’s been long enough that I don’t have much recollection of either.
I choose the one on the right.
CHAPTER SIX - PIE
Despite being cursed, losing my best friend, and getting a lecture on how to be a good slave by a monster with horns and hooves, I slept pretty good in the little cottage.
In fact, I slept so well, I wonder if the water is drugged. But it’s a well. There is a pump over the sink in the kitchen, so unless someone is drugging the water under the ground, that’s not it.
I don’t want to admit that it might just be the comfy, cozy nature of the place because I fully intend on getting the fuck out of here today. I will not be putting on that ring, that’s for sure. I think there’s a loophole in this curse as long as the deal isn’t sealed. So I’m gonna find it.
My first disappointment of the day is the realization that there is no hot water. Why would a place have a bathroom with no hot water? Also, who the hell would I call to fix a plumbing issue?
Never mind, Pie. You’re not gonna be here that long.
I go down to the kitchen—ha. I should’ve looked harder at this last night. There is a wood stove to cook on, but no electricity, so no refrigerator. Also, no food in any of the cupboards. So the monster was probably telling the truth when he said we would need groceries.
But again. Not gonna be here that long. If I have to fast for a day, I can deal.
Unfortunate thing number three this morning is that I don’t have clothes. Just this stupid schoolgirl uniform from two days ago.
There is a closet, and it even has clothes in it, but a whole flock of moths fly out the moment I opened the door.
So. No outfit change.
I pump some water into a bowl and finger-scrub my teeth, then take a deep breath and walk out of the cottage to go find Tomas. I hurry up the hill, trying my best not to look at the cemetery. The statues in the daylight are horrifying. Just monster after monster after monster. And the tombs are just as creepy. Each one of them has a door. No, door is the wrong word. They are gaping black holes in the stone walls.
I can’t see past the blackness—thank God—but I don’t need to see what’s inside those things to understand I need to stay away from them. I direct my eyes back to the cathedral and walk faster.
The grounds are eerily silent as I make my way up to the double doors that lead into the bottom-level entry hall. No birds, no wind, no rustling. Just silence.
Inside I face a moment of indecision when I come face to face with the three staircases. I know the middle one leads up to the top entrance hall I’m familiar with, but the other two are a mystery. And they are obviously part of the magic of this place because I’ve already established that this cathedral—while impressive and tall, from the back side, at least—is not wide enough to accommodate the interior of this space.
A flutter high up in the ceiling draws my attention away from my choices to where it should be.
“Pia?” I call up to the sound, then sigh when my friend fails to appear.
Either that’s not her or she’s not mine anymore.
Both of those realizations make my stomach sick so I push it away for now and climb up the center staircase. It feels like a very long walk this morning. Yesterday I went up and down this thing a few times without thinking about how many steps there actually are, but I don’t have that same adrenaline rush right now.
Once up at the top I head straight to the apothecary room. The door is ajar so I just push it the rest of the way open and take a step inside. “Hello?” I say it softly. Like this place is a church. I’m pretty sure it’s not a church since it’s filled with cursed things, but there is
an expectation of reverence lingering in the air in here.
No one answers me, and when I take a good look around, I realize that’s because no one is here. It’s just me, and the books, and a sense of bad luck and foreboding.
I go back out to the upper entrance hall and look around. Up, actually. Hoping for a glimpse of the bird that may or may not be Pia. I miss her. Even though I have always understood that life would’ve been a whole lot easier if she wasn’t here, I never imagined myself without her. I just made plans to cope with life with her.
So now I feel… lost. Unbalanced, even.
I want Pia back. I want to leave this place. I want to get in my Jeep and go to stupid Toledo so I can overstay my welcome on Jacqueline’s couch and then beg her to let me be her babysitter forever and ever.
My eyes gravitate to the massive front door and then, without thinking, I’m walking towards it. Pulling it open. Stepping out onto the front steps.
The gray is still there, the fog rolling around at the edge of things. But it’s sentient or something. Like it can sense me. Because it begins rolling my way, trying to make me reconsider the idea that I might be able to walk out of here. I might be able to find that gate and get back to the real world.
“Good morning.”
I startle and turn to find Tomas standing next to me holding a cup of coffee. He stretches his neck and back, like any person would when they first wake up and take stock of the day before them. And he’s shirtless again, wearing only a pair of pinstriped pajama pants. I get caught up in his in body—it’s hard not to. It’s… very nice—but then I look up at his face. He’s yawning.
I sigh.
His next words come out with the tail end of his yawn. “So what’s the plan for today?”
“Plan?” I scoff a little. “The plan is to get the hell out of this creepy place, Tomas. That’s the plan.”
He nods as he sips his coffee. “Perfect. So you’re gonna put the ring on?”
“No. No. I’m not putting the ring on. That seals the deal. Right now I’m in some kind of… in-between. I have not committed to this yet. There’s still a chance I can get out of it.”
Tomas makes a face. It’s an adorable face that says, Yeah. No. Maybe you’re a little crazy. “I don’t think that’s how it works, sunshine. You came through the gate. Grant left. You’re stuck here. The only choice left is to decide how you will be stuck here. With that surrounding you all day and night?” He nods to the fog. “Or the real world on the other side? And if I may make a suggestion? I’d go with option two. Truuuust me. I’ve been there, done that. They all say the same thing on the first day. ‘I’m not gonna put on the ring. I will not take part in this curse.’ But after a few days of the creepy fog, they give in. You should save yourself the trouble and do it now.”
I shake my head as I watch the fog. It’s still coming for me. “No. There has to be a way out.”
“There is,” Tomas agrees. “Free Pell and you’re free too.”
“Another way,” I huff. “One that doesn’t involve unleashing a monster on the world.”
Tomas takes another sip of his coffee and lets out a long, “Ahhh,” after he swallows. Which is so annoying. Then he turns to me—“Well. Good luck with that”—and goes back inside.
Meanwhile, the fog is coming up the steps and the edges of it are starting to take on the appearance of tendrils. So I follow him.
And to my delight, who is coming up the stairs? The monster responsible for all this crap.
I shield my eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Can you please put on some pants?” I don’t wait for him to answer, I hurry over to the apothecary room and slip inside before he can freeze me again and force me to stare at his enormous package.
I close the door, sending a hint that I would like some alone time to think about things, but the monster just comes in after me anyway, apparently unable to read a room.
I turn my back to him. I’m not looking. I refuse to look at him.
“Where’s breakfast?” he growls.
“You tell me. I don’t live here.”
“You’re in charge of breakfast and I’m hungry, slave.”
“First of all”—I hold up a finger, my back to him—“I’m not your slave. I did not put on the ring. I will never be putting on the ring. But even if I did put it on, I would still not be your slave. I answered an ad for a caretaker.”
“An ad?” Tomas says. He’s standing behind the beast called Pell. “That’s… interesting.”
“Caretakers make breakfast,” Pell says.
“There is no food in my cottage… so…”
“Oh, there’s a kitchen,” Tomas offers brightly.
I turn to him, still keeping my back to the beast, and shoot him a look. Whose side are you on?
He just shrugs. “I’ll show you where it is. What’s today? Sunday?” He cocks his head at me. “We usually have pancakes and bacon on Sundays. And I’m fucking starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten in centuries.” He rubs his hands together. “So let’s do this.”
“I would like to be served in the dining hall,” the beast adds.
“Listen.” I point my finger at Tomas. “You’re a traitor. And you”—I hook my thumb over my shoulder at the monster—“can get your own damn breakfast. I’m staying right in this room so I can look for the out clause.”
I turn my back to both of them now and walk over to the nearest bookshelf to peruse the titles.
There’s a moment of awkward silence and even though I don’t turn to check, I imagine they are sending each other looks. Unspoken-word looks. They are having a whole conversation about how to ‘manage’ me behind my back.
Finally, the beast says, “Perhaps we should start this day with the rules.”
“Fuck your rules,” I mutter. “You and your rules—”
But that’s as far as I get. Because he puts that freeze spell on me again.
My hand is reaching for a thick volume on the shelf in front of me when this happens. There is not enough room for the beast to maneuver into my line of sight, but he does it anyway, his hard, muscular stomach pressing against my chest. Then he places his fingertips under my chin and forces my head to look up at him.
There is nothing I can do.
I must obey. I can’t even close my eyes. I have to see him.
He makes me stand there, frozen in silence, for several more seconds before he speaks again. “I’m only going to say this one more time, slave. You are here at my pleasure. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and thoroughly go over the rules with you. Then you will make us breakfast, you will put on that ring, and you will go into town and purchase our essentials. Now I’m going to let you go, but when I do, I expect you to agree immediately. I will not tolerate your insolence.”
And then I am unfrozen. I stumble forward, just like I did yesterday. But the bookshelf catches me before I fall.
The beast growls. “Do you understand me?”
I turn. I force myself to look him in the eye. And then I say, “Put. On. Some. Pants.”
CHAPTER SEVEN - PELL
I growl at her. “Satyr chimera do not wear pants.”
“Well, the sight of said satyr chimera’s package is disgusting. And I refuse to talk to you until you put. On. Pants.”
“Package?” I mutter more to myself than to her.
But she answers me through clenched teeth. “Your dick.”
“My cock?”
“Yes.” She’s fuming now.
But I’m enjoying myself. I like her flustered because when she’s flustered, she’s tolerable. Amusing, even. “Does the sight of a man’s sex parts make you… tremble?”
“Tremble? No.” She points to my lower body and waves it her finger around in a circle. “This whole thing… I can’t. OK? I just can’t this morning. Just… cover it up.”
I look down at my package, then back up at the girl called Pie. “What’s wrong with it? None of the women I’ve pleasured have ever had any comp
laints.”
She scoffs. “Were they human?”
“I’ve had thousands of human women. Always satisfied.”
“Gross.”
She has still not looked down again. I could order her. I could wait until she slips and then freeze her. Make her stare at it for hours. But I’m hungry. And this is a tantalizing opportunity for another time. This slave is going to take months to train. And now that I know that my natural supererotic state makes her blush like a virgin on the eve of Ostara, I will want to use this to my full advantage.
So instead, I turn and look at Tomas. He’s got his hand over his mouth like he’s hiding a smirk, quite enjoying our little interaction. But I’m not sure if he’s happy about her dismissal of me, or the way her cheeks went bright pink the moment she said ‘pants.’ “Show her where the kitchen is, Tomas. I must excuse myself to go find pants.” I shoot her a look, but she’s turned her back to me. And that pisses me off. She has no right to judge me. She is a slave. “You will have breakfast ready in one hour. And after that, we will go over every rule. I will explain my expectations in detail, so there is no misunderstanding. And then you will put on that ring and go into town to run my errands like a good slave caretaker should.”
Her shoulders go stiff when I say the word ‘slave.’ And that is enough to satisfy me.
I turn, push past Tomas and his smirk, and exit the apothecary.
I spent last night exploring the hidden floors of the upper levels. And I did actually find a room filled with satyr clothes. Centuries ago, when I was paired with a particularly adept slave caretaker who could sew, we threw parties in the sanctuary and I wore this finery. This was back in the old world when humans barely needed to be drunk to accept a satyr chimera in their midst.
I sigh as I climb the magic staircase and enter the maze of hallways. I miss the old world.
