Too Many Curses (6 page)

She laughed. "A perplexing paradox."

He grinned. "Positively."

Mouse and owl were deeply in love. Their metamorphosed forms might limit their relationship, but neither wasted time thinking about things beyond their control. They were just happy to have each other. He drew close to her down, and she covered him with a wing. They sat there contentedly for a few quiet minutes until jingling bells caught their attention.

The Vampire King lurched from the shadows. Once he had been a powerful lord of the undead. Now, he was merely a stumbling corpse unable to procure a fresh meal. Margle's curse on the King was a simple one. First, he'd removed much of the vampire's supernatural talents. Then he'd made it so the King's slightest movement triggered the ringing of invisible bells. When he walked, he chimed. When he ran, he could be heard from a thousand yards away. It made finding a victim quite impossible.

Olivia snatched Morton in her claws and flew to a high perch as the King trudged below.

"Good evening," said Morton.

The Vampire King grunted. He waved and three beautiful tones resonated.

"Off to have a chat with Walter?"

He grunted again. Every night, he rose from his crypt in
search of fresh blood, and every night, he had to settle for licking the bleeding wall.

"Woefully withered wretch."

"Could be more friendly," said Morton. "We're all laboring under curses here."

The King stopped and for a moment, the halls were silent. "We are all not laboring equally." Even when he moved his jaw to speak, the chimes persisted. "I was the general of the greatest undead army the world had ever seen. My legions swept across the land. Seven kingdoms were fed to my ghouls. Those we didn't eat were added to our numbers. We were unstoppable. I was unstoppable."

"A plain prevarication," said Olivia. "Perfectly portrayed by your presence in this pernicious palace."

The Vampire King's red eyes glared in his drawn, white visage. "The point is that before running across that damnable wizard I was someone important. To be reduced to this . . ." He spread his arms and filled the air with a lovely tune. "It is unthinkable."

Morton scrunched his pink nose in disgust. "With an attitude like that, no wonder you haven't any friends."

"I don't need friends." Stooping, the King trudged away with musical footsteps. "I need blood."

A chill wind swept through the halls.

"The Wailing Woman?" Morton shivered.

"The Wailing Woman wanders the west wing when the week is waning."

"You're right. It's too quiet to be her."

At the far end of the hall, the torches extinguished. Though they often dimmed and brightened on their own, they had never gone out before.

"That's odd."

"Unexpected and unprecedented. Something slips surreptitiously." As an owl, Olivia's night vision was exceptional. She could see something in the dark, but she couldn't quite make it out. The creature seemed to wear the shadows as a cloak. "I sense a sinister spawn, a perilous presence."

The Vampire King paused and glanced over his shoulder at the creature in the shadows. The monster stepped forward. A single massive paw was stuck into the light before being covered by the veil of shadows. The beast snorted. Flame burst from its nostrils, but failed to light the dark. Only its snapping yellow teeth were clear.

"It can't be." The King froze in fear. "I didn't think even he'd be mad enough to have one of those in this place."

The beast stalked forward.

"What is it?" asked Morton.

"Death. Death for the dead."

"Well, I guess we've got nothing to fear then. Since we're both alive."

Olivia nodded. "Safe and sound since we still subsist."

Indeed, the creature obviously ignored them. As it drew closer, its yellow eyes focused unblinkingly on the Vampire King.

"Fleeing from this fiendish fauna might be fortuitous."

"What?"

"She's telling you to run," translated Morton.

As if the beast understood as well, it charged forward. Every step into the light was a blur of teeth and claws and fire. The darkness chased just behind. The Vampire King turned and dashed away in a chaos of crashing bells. The beast pursued, whipping past Olivia and Morton to chase the King.

They gagged. It wasn't shadows that covered the beast but thick, unnatural smoke. It reeked of sulfur and brimstone.

Olivia took the mouse in her claws and flew in pursuit. It wasn't hard to follow. The King made so much noise when he ran.

"He'll never lose it."

"Cursed cacophony conspires against the King."

Distantly, the vampire yelled as the smoke beast howled. Olivia turned a corner. The monster snorted once more, spit another gout of flame, and ran off with the King clutched in its vicious jaws. The thunderous crash of ten thousand chimes drowned the vampire's screams.

Olivia landed, and Morton sniffed at a shred of black cloth.

"The King's cloak," she observed. "Could the King be killed?"

"Not killed." Morton pulled away the cloth to reveal a scrap of flesh, a pointed ear. "Consumed."

Olivia shuddered, raising her feathers.

"Catastrophic."

Nessy awoke to find The Door At The End Of The Hall gone again. This annoyed her. She liked everything to be where it belonged, and The Door At The End Of The Hall had become The Door That Went Wherever It Pleased Except Its Proper Place. That was untidy and unacceptable, even for a magical castle. But a new day was upon her, and with it, a new day's duties.

Today was Polishing Day. It only came around every few weeks, but it was one of her favorites. There was nothing quite like shining silver and buffing brass and seeing her reflection in the gleaming metal. The mere thought was enough to push aside her vexation.

Sir Thedeus and Echo took off on the task of spreading the story of their close encounter with the Door. Many, if not all, of the castle's residents lived for these sorts of tales. Boredom was a constant nuisance when one lived only in a
portrait or as a statue or at the bottom of a deep, dark pit. Though the castle had hundreds of inhabitants, most called only a small part of it home, a chamber or two if they were fortunate.

On her way to the kitchen, Nessy stopped by her room (not truly a room, but more a corner in a large hallway) to speak briefly with the monster (less a ghastly beast and more a grumpy imp) that lived under her bed (more accurately a worn cot).

"Where were you last night?" The monster glared with its three eyes. Nessy had never seen more of it than those glassy, gray eyes.

"The Door At The End Of The Hall was proving mischievous."

"Are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine. I just wanted to let you know."

"As if I'd worry." His angry eyes softened. "But since you're not dead, you will be coming by tonight, won't you?"

"Barring any foolishness with the castle's other doors, yes."

"Good. I found a new book. I hope it's a good one." A small book slid from the darkness under the cot.

It was very dark under her bed, and he was dependent upon her to read to him. She enjoyed skimming a chapter or two before retiring as well. She couldn't imagine where the monster got these books as he never left the shelter of her cot, but it was a varied selection. Stories of romance, adventure, horror. Travelogues of distant lands. A manual
on carpentry, another on how to improve yourself and win companions.

She leaned over and glanced at the latest offering. "It has a princess on the cover."

The monster blew a raspberry.

"There's a barbarian, too."

"Does he have a sword? If he has a sword, it might be good. Unless he's kissing her. If he's kissing her, it's going to be stupid."

"No, he's got an ax."

"Ax, eh? That's a twist."

"And there's a monster, too."

He chuckled. "I hope it's a dragon. I love it when they kill dragons. Pretentious reptiles, think they're so special just 'cause they can breathe fire and fly. Like that's so great. Is it a dragon?"

"Let's not ruin it." Nessy threw the book back under the bed and continued on her way.

Her breakfast was always the same: two biscuits, three slices of ham, and a tall glass of milk and honey. Mister Bones had it all prepared, the table set, by the time she walked through the kitchen door. The skeleton got her stool for her.

"Thank you."

Decapitated Dan sat quietly on the spice rack. He was not a morning person. It was only in the afternoon that he grew energetic enough to rant on madly.

Mister Bones, ever the thoughtful fellow, had an extra plate of ham and biscuits for the nurgax. Nessy had almost
forgotten the beast because it followed so obediently and so quietly. The nurgax gulped down its meal and belched. She was about to eat her own when a black owl, gray mouse clutched in its talons, flew into the room and landed on the table.

"A new day necessitates Nessy nibble on nourishment," said Olivia.

"Yes, good thinking."

Morton scampered to the edge of the plate. "Terrible news. The Vampire King, he's dead."

"Of course he's dead. He's a vampire." Nessy tossed the bird and rodent a piece of bread.

The meal distracted Morton for a moment. He tried speaking with his mouth full and made little sense.

"Unquestionably undead," said Oliva. "But a big beast brutalized the bell-ridden being with such salacious savagery that the King's continued corporeality could be called into question."

Nessy was in the middle of dissecting Olivia's sentence when Morton sped things along with a translation.

"Some giant thing ate him."

Decapitated Dan cackled to life. "O ho ho. Ol' Dan told you. I told you, I did. One by one by one the prophecies of Ol' Dan will come to pass. O, how I can hardly wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. It'd be enough to drive me mad if I weren't already out of my skull. So to speak." He howled with deranged laughter.

"Quiet, please," said Nessy.

Dan stifled himself, though he still snorted and grunted with some amusement.

"Now, what exactly happened?"

"An evil entity engulfed the doomed undead denizen in its giant jagged jaws."

"Oh it was a horrible sight." Morton leaned boldly onto the plate. "Are you going to eat that bit of ham?"

She gave her meal to him. Disorder always made her lose her appetite. Plenty of unsavory creatures wandered the castle, especially at night, and Nessy had no doubt that there were mysteries and horrors lurking within it that only Margle knew. There was always another dark corner, another forgotten room, waiting quietly somewhere to cause some trouble. But for all its countless dangers, known and unknown, the inhabitants knew how to navigate them safely. It'd been years since anything of this sort had happened.

"Are you sure it ate him?"

"We didn't get to see the whole thing before it carried him off. But there was an ear left behind. We lost that to some rats. I think they were ordinary rats, but I don't know for sure. Olivia has gotten into the habit of giving any vermin she catches a chance to speak up, just in case."

She hooted. "Terribly traumatic to taste a talking treat."

Nessy hopped from the stool.

"Where are you going, dear Nessy dear?" asked Decapitated Dan. "Going to check on the King? No need, no need. He's dead, dead and gone, gone and gobbled. You can take
ol' Dan's word for it. And everyone can tell you, ol' Dan's word is as good as a bucket of peaches. The dead would fear, that's what I said. And that's what's happened." He laughed.

Nessy ignored him, but even after she'd left the kitchen, he shouted after her.

"And how about that Door? Gone off on its own, hasn't it? It'll turn up, you can count on that. You have ol' Dan's word on that, and everyone knows Dan's word is as good as sunflower petals." His deranged laughter echoed. It rang in her ears long after she'd left him behind, all the way to the dank catacombs and the Vampire King's crypt.

She opened the King's coffin and found only the bed of soil and nothing else. Her distress rose, although she hid it well. Only the nurgax seemed to notice. It whined by her side.

"See? Gone," said Morton. "He has to be dead."

"The undead desire dark dirt during days."

"I don't like this, Nessy. I don't think I feel safe anymore."

"Too many multitudes of menace move through this manor. Generous jeopardies, hundreds of horrors, crowds of calamities, a deluge of danger."

"Quiet, please," said Nessy.

Olivia struggled against her curse, but still had to spit out one last phrase. "Great gatherings of ghastliness."

Nessy wasn't certain the King was dead. He could be sleeping somewhere else. There were plenty of dark places,
but his sleep in any of these would be uncomfortable without his native soil to bring him peace. Given a choice, the King would be in this coffin. He was either dead or greatly inconvenienced. Perhaps hiding somewhere in terror. The idea of something unfamiliar roaming the halls hungry and unchecked put Nessy in an ill mood. This was unacceptable. The simple joys of Polishing Day would have to wait.

Olivia yawned. "Instincts obligate I seek slumber soon. Preferably a protected perch now that this new nefarious nuisance is gnawing on our neighbors."

"Not yet," said Nessy. "I need the two of you to come with me to the library and help me identify whatever ate the King."

"Happy to help halt these hideous happenings." Olivia blinked her large eyes sleepily. "But be brief. I need my nest and a nap."

Margle's library was something of a legend among wizards. It was a huge chamber with vaulted ceilings and great iron shelves filled with thousands upon thousands of magical textbooks. Tremendous crystal chandeliers made the room bright as day. Margle had never been especially stylish, but he'd spent a lot of time here in his research. It was the only room in the entire castle with wall-to-wall carpets and that maintained a comfortably mild temperature year-round. Several gargoyles decorated the shelves, unenchanted, purely for decoration. There was also a dead man dangling from a chandelier by the area set aside for reading.