13 Curses (36 page)

“Tanya!” Red called. “Over here, quickly!”

At the rear of the caravan, past a dresser of dozens of bottles of liquids and powders, was a dark velvet curtain. Red was standing before it, her hand outstretched.
Tanya came up behind her. The moaning was coming from behind it.

With a quick flick, Red flung the curtain back to reveal the rear portion of the caravan.

In a single bed propped against the wall, Morag was huddled beneath the bedclothes. In an instant, it was clear something was terribly wrong. The old woman’s eyes were rolling about in her head and her hair was slicked to her face with sweat. Even though she was radiating heat, she still shivered and shook beneath the bedclothes, and she was murmuring and moaning incoherently under her breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tanya cried. “She looks delirious!”

“And it looks as if she’s been this way for a while,” Red said. “Get her some water, quickly!”

Tanya ran back into the kitchen area.

“What’s going on back there?” said Nell, her voice quivering. She had circled her arms around the General’s cage as though to protect him.

“I don’t know,” Tanya muttered, fumbling with some tumblers on the draining board. She grabbed one and filled it with cold water and then ran back to the bedside. Red took it from her and tilted the glass to the old woman’s dry lips.

“Drink,” she instructed.

Morag took a little and her eyes slowed for a fraction of a second before flickering again. In the moment they were still, they rested on Tanya, and she
flung her hand out, knocking the glass from Red’s hand as she reached past her.

Tanya knelt down and took the old woman’s hand.

“What’s she saying?” she said, leaning closer to Morag’s face.

Red shook her head. “I don’t know. I was trying to listen but couldn’t make out the words—she’s speaking too quickly—it’s all distorted.”

Tanya leaned in closer. Morag’s breath was sour from dehydration.

“
Won’t stop… won’t stop, can’t make them stop
,” she whispered, the words tumbling over each other in a jumble. “
Won’t go away… won’t stop…”

“What won’t stop? Talk to me, Morag…”

Nell appeared in the doorway.

“Is there anything I can do?” she said, eyeing the old gypsy woman fearfully.

“Yes,” Red snapped. “Just stay out there in case you cause another catastrophe.”

Nell shrank back, stung.

“This is no good,” said Red. “We need a doctor—”

“Wait,” said Tanya. “I think she’s trying to tell us something.”

“Can’t make them stop… too many, all I can see… won’t go away… visions won’t stop… haunting me… everywhere…”

“She said, ‘visions won’t stop,’ ” said Tanya. “She’s having visions! Something’s wrong with her, I don’t understand!”

“We need her to snap out of it,” said Red. “Let’s get her up.” She pulled back the cover. “Poor old girl even got in bed fully clothed.”

Under the bedclothes, Morag was clutching a shawl around herself tightly. In the dim light, Tanya could see glittering beads that were sewn to it winking like tiny stars… except for one, duller and heavier than the rest, not a bead at all but instead an object that was very familiar.

“Terrible things… make them stop… people dying, buildings falling… visions won’t stop…”

“Red,” Tanya whispered, pointing to Morag’s shawl. “Look!”

Red followed her gaze to the woolen fabric wrapped around the old woman’s shoulders, where instead of a round, silvery bead, a squat silver cup had been sewn in its place.

“It’s from the bracelet—the Cup of divination,” said Tanya. She reached out to tug at it, but it was firmly secured in place. “It’s what’s giving her these awful visions—we have to make them stop!” She tugged at the shawl, trying to pull it away from Morag, but the old woman held it in her clawlike hands with an iron grip.

“She won’t let go—we’ll have to cut it off,” said Tanya. “Give me your knife!”

Red pulled her knife out from her belt—then hesitated.

“Quickly,” said Tanya. “What are you waiting for?”

“She might be able to tell us where the rest of the charms are,” said Red.

“You can’t be serious? We’ve got to help her!”

“We will,” said Red. “But think about it—we could solve this right now. If she’s having visions, maybe she could see where we need to look next.”

“No,” said Tanya. “Look at her—we need to make it stop.”

“And I need to find my brother!” said Red. She slid the knife back in her belt and pulled the charm bracelet from her pocket. She held it up to Morag’s face.

“Tell us where to find the missing charms,” she said urgently. “Where should we look?”

Morag’s eyes flickered and rolled back in her head. Her whole body went rigid.

“
Connected
,” she whispered. “
All connected
…”

“Connected how?” Red pressed.

“To the past…”

“Whose past? The bracelet’s owners?”

“Connected to the… bracelet itself… shadow moments… some events leave a trace. The past… is the key…”

“So that’s it,” Red breathed. “The charms will be in places significant in the history of the bracelet itself ! We were on the right lines—but not close enough!”

“That’s enough!” Tanya shouted, lunging for Red’s knife. “Make it stop—or I will!”

Red drew the blade out from her belt and severed the charm from the woolen thread. She held it in her palm before slowly bringing it to touch the bracelet. As soon as they made contact, there was a small clink
of metal on metal. The charm had attached itself to the bracelet once more.

Morag’s eyes closed and she lay back, still in her bed, peaceful at last.

“Morag?” Tanya whispered, brushing a damp strand of gray hair back from the old woman’s face.

Morag’s eyes opened slowly.

“Some water… please?” she croaked.

Tanya rushed into the kitchen to refill the tumbler. When she went back into the gypsy woman’s sleeping quarters, Red had helped her to sit up. After a few minutes she was well enough to be helped into the kitchen area.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Tanya asked.

“I will be,” said Morag. “Once I’ve got rid of this raging headache.” She peered at Nell, sitting in an armchair with the General’s cage balanced on her knees. “I see you’ve been reunited, then?”

Nell gave a meek nod.

“I found him in a hawthorn bush,” said Morag. “He must have had quite an adventure.” She handed a small key to Tanya, then sank down into her chair by the window tiredly.

“What’s this for?” Tanya asked.

“My cabinet,” said Morag, nodding to the various ingredients in pots, jars, and bottles. “You can mix me a remedy—I’ll tell you what to do. And then I think it’s about time you told me what’s going on, don’t you?”

General Carver chattered and clacked all the way back to the manor, seemingly none the worse for his little escapade. He was also the most talkative of the group. Since leaving Mad Morag’s caravan, Nell had not uttered a word, and every attempt Red made at conversation with Tanya was cut short with an abrupt reply.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked finally as they went through the garden gate. “You’ve hardly said a word all the way back.”

Tanya pulled the compass off from over her head and pushed it into her pocket. Her dark eyes were fixed ahead as they marched through the weeds.

“I think the question should be, what’s wrong with
you
,” she answered. “You saw Morag was in a
bad way, and still you pressed her for answers. How could you do that?”

“I did the same as what I always do,” Red retorted. “What I
had
to.”

Tanya stopped and faced her.

“I know you’ve lost your brother, Red, but it’s not just about him anymore. Morag might have lost her mind if she’d been left in that state much longer. You can’t just let things happen to people because it suits you and your search for James. Didn’t you see what that charm was doing to her?”

“Of course I saw,” Red said angrily. “And once we’re safely inside I’ll explain myself.” She turned to Nell. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep me—and what’s happening—a secret. You mustn’t tell Tanya’s grandmother about any of this. Forget everything you saw and heard in Mad Morag’s caravan.”

Nell looked torn.

“I don’t know,” she quavered. “I’ve a responsibility…. What if something happens to one of you?”

“It’s just for now,” Tanya added. “If things get worse, we’ll tell my grandmother, I promise.”

“And you owe me,” said Red, her eyes narrowed. “If you want to even attempt to make up for what you’ve done, then you’ll stay quiet.”

With that, they had her. She nodded miserably, and, satisfied, they all went in.

“We only saw the charm by accident,” said Red. “It was sewn onto the gypsy woman’s shawl—she didn’t even know it was there.”

“As soon as we removed it the visions stopped,” said Tanya. “I dread to think what would have happened if we hadn’t found her when we did.”

They were gathered in Tanya’s room, relating the morning’s events to a sleepy-eyed Fabian.

“Morag confirmed what we thought after we told her about the task,” said Tanya. “She knew it was no coincidence that the Cup of divination had come to her. Firstly, she already has visions—but she’s able to control them, and she said they’ve never been relentless like these visions were. Secondly, she’s a descendant of Agnes Fogg, the wise woman who was connected to Elizabeth Elvesden…”

“And the woman who became the Hedgewitch,” Red put in.

“… And that’s the link between Morag and the charm.”

“So the charms’ locations aren’t just to do with the owners of the bracelet?” Fabian asked. “Because Agnes Fogg never owned it—she just knew Elizabeth.”

“Tell him the rest,” Tanya said, with a cold glance at Red. “Tell him how you refused to remove the charm straight away.”

Red stared back defensively.

“When we realized Morag was having the visions, I questioned her about where the rest of the charms might be. I didn’t think we’d get as lucky as specific
locations, and I was right. But what she did tell us is that past events can leave a trace on things. The charms will be found in places significant to the history of the bracelet itself.”

“So that’s the link,” said Fabian. His bushy hair was sticking up comically where he had slept on it. “I don’t understand why the charm would give Morag visions, though.”

“Neither did I—at first,” said Red. “But then it hit me. What we discussed about the fairies not specifying how long we have to find the charms… well, I think I know why. The charm that was with Morag had some kind of power over her—and not just any power. The power of
divination
, which relates to the object itself. Except that its power was warped—swamping Morag with visions she couldn’t control. If we hadn’t taken the charm from her, she would have been driven mad.”

“The charm was cursed,” said Fabian.

“Exactly,” said Red. “And the Cup of divination is just one of the Thirteen Treasures… one that isn’t as bad as some might be, if their power was corrupted.”