⊹ 《28TH JULY》
I thought it’d been nothing.
Just another hunt.
Another kill.
Another petty wound.
I should have known that, when it comes to bog witches, nothing was ever petty. Their spirits lingered long after death, inflicting pain and suffering. I should have known that would’ve been the case when I murdered Shyla Maganti, daughter to the infamous Mother Maev. It was just another hunting request. The Maganti coven had been terrorizing a nearby town for their annual sacrifice, abducting ‘those of purity’. In other words, children. I didn’t hesitate.
When the Hounds and I arrived at the scene, I’d expected a dozen members. More than three, at least. But three was what I got. There was Shyla, their High Priestess, accompanied by her brother Brennain and a witch I did not recognise. Even though we’d outnumbered them two to one, it was a hard battle. Mainly because Lucas was an idiot and most of my energy was spent keeping him from accidentally killing himself. But we did it, of course.
As we were about to leave, the hounds boasting about another ‘easy job done’, a man had stopped me. He told me that there was one other member we had not dealt with and, though it wasn’t in the job description, requested I deal with her too. The head of the snake, Mother Maev. It was only one person, so I left without bothering Jet and his friends. I’m rather thankful for it now, because Mother Maev was no easy kill. An experienced practitioner of blood magic, she was one who could lay waste to almost anyone.
I was never more appreciative of the fire in my veins.
I’m sure that was what saved me. Horror dawned the big witch’s features as soon as she realised she couldn’t manipulate me into her own little marionette the way she did so many others. She was quite an old thing, most of her youth’s strength having been spent. I took her condition for granted. I should have known she wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. Her parting gift to me was the smallest of scratches on my right arm. It wasn’t too deep nor did it hurt after some time, but the wound just wouldn’t seem to heal.
Out of sheer irritation, I met with a friend of mine, a white witch named Raina. When she told me I’d just been cursed by someone who had been the epitome of dark witches in her time, I didn’t take it to heart. I was immune to dark and poisonous substances, why should a curse be any different? I was stupid enough to forget I was already carrying a century-long curse inside me. Though, to sate my curiosity, I did ask what this curse entailed. Raina told me it was one of misfortune. That bad luck would befall me and anyone close to me. Afterwards, I thanked her for her counsel and left.
So the past couple of days were a bit... unlucky. Back at the Chez Tzaz, business was strangely inconsistent. Slow for a moment, then overwhelmingly hectic the next. I thought it was just a coincidence. I went out yesterday to find a present for Jet’s birthday, and everywhere I went it seemed that everyone was having trouble of some sort. That’s when I first started to feel uneasy. Last night, Sam called. He sounded so frantic that I could barely make out what he was saying. When I did, it felt as though my heart stopped working.
Jet got bitten.
I rushed over to the Hounds’ den. The idiot was on his bed, sweating a pool. He was the palest I’d ever seen him, even paler than that one time I snuck George into his duffelbag. I could see the fang marks clearly. Vampire. Even alone, just one E-level bloodsucker wouldn’t have been able to jump him. Unless his luck ran out. He turned to me then and I swore I saw red irises in place of his green ones. And the idiot smiled. Even though I knew this was a fate worse than dying for him. He didn’t want any of us to worry. I ran out like a coward.
Raina was expecting me, apparently, with that strange motherly look upon her face and her bowl of sage and water knocked out of her hands as I threw myself onto her, sobbing uncontrollably. I asked her what I could to end this curse. If I could turn its effects to me and me alone. She told me she doubted anyone she knew had the power to do so. I asked her for a solution. Anything at all. She seemed reluctant to tell me, but I didn’t relent. She gave in.
There was a spell that her ancestors had taught her. A pain that could turn emotional pain into physical pain. She felt that, with a few tweaks and to the spell, she could turn my curse into physical pain too. I asked that she do it. Before we started, she told me I had the option of sharing this burden with a close companion. I heard the unspoken offering, but I rejected it. Why would I do that to anyone I cared for? And so, the ritual was completed.
Raina told me that the pain will start sometime after midnight and will only end when the sun rises. This will go on until the next full moon, when Mother Maev’s soul would be too disconnected with the Earth to continue her curse. August eighteenth was the date the full Sturgeon moon was supposed to appear. Around twenty-one days from now. I just have to hold on for another three weeks. Until then, I decided to stay cooped up in the Chez Tzaz. I’ll do work as usual in the morning, take an hour in the evening to hunt for sustenance and ride the pain out until dawn,
I'll be careful not to let the others know.
