13 Curses (20 page)

“Not good enough.” Stitch reached out and tugged the chain attached to Eldritch’s wrist. Eldritch screamed as the iron cut into his skin. He fell against the dungeon wall, writhing.

“I didn’t take it,” he repeated at last, through gritted teeth.

Red reached for the chain again and Eldritch flinched.

“It’s the truth!” he whined. “Someone gave it to me.”

Red regarded him coldly. “Who?”

He stared into his lap. “Knowing won’t do you any good.”

“I’ll decide that. Who was it?”

“He was my traveling companion.” Eldritch jerked his head into the darkened corner of the dungeon—as he had done only yesterday. “He’s over there, like I told you.”

Red and Stitch scanned the dark recesses of the cellar. Several shapes littered it—the Hedgewitch included. All were in varying states of decay.

“He’s one of the dead?” said Stitch.

“Correct,” said Eldritch, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Was he the one who took my brother?”

Eldritch shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything!”

“Yes, you do,” said Red. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have tried to lie about the book. You know something, all right.” She stood up and slowly walked over to the figure that was slumped forward, manacled to the wall just as Eldritch was. Clenching her jaw, Red grabbed a handful of the long hair covering the face, tilting the head back. To her horror and revulsion, the hair came away in her hand and, as the head shifted, she saw that it was no longer recognizable. She released it, letting the hair drop to the ground, and roughly wiped her hand on her trousers. Bending down, she began to go through the clothing.

“What are you looking for?” asked Stitch.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Anything… some kind of clue.”

“You won’t find anything,” said Eldritch. “The Hedgewitch would have taken anything of value from him.”

Suddenly Red spied something glinting in the faint glow from above. She reached out for it.

“What is it?” Stitch asked. “Have you found something?”

“A ring,” said Red. She turned the body’s decaying
hand over and the ring rattled free and fell into her hand. “Why didn’t the Hedgewitch take this from him?”

“It was stuck on his finger,” Eldritch answered. “It… it became welded to his skin one night in an… accident.”

Red felt herself growing cold as she turned the ring over in her hand. It was silver and chunky, with a smooth black stone at its center. Carved into the stone was a pair of wings. She recognized it immediately… the image was seared into her mind. Forcing away her revulsion, she ran her hand over the shoulder blades of the body. Through the clothing she felt two bumps—stumps of where wings had once been. She stood up and strode back to where Eldritch and Stitch were.

“I’ve seen this ring before,” she said quietly. “Only once, but I’ll never forget it. It was worn by the fairy who took my brother. And I had a feeling about you, Eldritch. I knew you weren’t to be trusted.” She knelt before him once more. “We’ve met before.”

Eldritch looked as though Red were the Hedgewitch herself. He looked terrified.

“I haven’t seen you before!” he protested, but the lie was wasted upon her.

“Yes, you have. Only I had red hair back then. Long, red hair. Now do you remember?”

“I don’t!” Eldritch sniveled, starting to weep now. “I don’t remember you!”

“Then perhaps you’ll remember this!”

She swiveled around, and with her left hand reached up to pull down the neck of her top.

“Does this look familiar?” she snarled.

But Eldritch refused to look, cowering into his knees with his face hidden. She could sense Stitch, however, staring at the back of her neck in horror.

“If you won’t look, then let me describe it to you,” she said, turning back around. “It’s a burn, branded into the back of my neck, and it’s in the shape of fairy wings—the same fairy wings that appear on this ring. The ring became stuck to his hand when he was burning me—and his own wings caught fire. It was the only reason he stopped!”

Eldritch looked up then. “He burned lots of people. Anyone who crossed him—it was his signature. You were the only one who burned him back somehow. He lost the power after that. You did something to him… just like you did something to the Hedgewitch!”

Stitch’s eyes bored into Eldritch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked suddenly. “You didn’t just fall foul of the Hedgewitch by chance, did you? You and your companion knew too much for that, and you were too powerful. You were here for a reason. There’s no evidence upstairs to suggest she caught fairies for her glamours—only humans.”

Eldritch hesitated, then nodded. “We did business with her sometimes. Nothing too serious,” he put in hastily. “Just plants from afar, and things from the human world. Animals, if we could get them. She was always after fresh stock. Snatcher—my companion—
traded with her for curses to repay those who crossed him after he lost his burning ability. It all worked well enough until she gave him a curse on condition that he would repay her later—he didn’t have anything valuable enough to trade at the time.

“The price was one hundred four-leafed clovers or primroses—both valuable to fairy magic, and rare. It took us many moons to find enough on our travels. Eventually we did. But Snatcher was greedy. On our way here to deliver the goods, he had the idea to pretend we’d been robbed and lost most of them, in order to keep half for ourselves and sell them at a later date. He thought he could fool the Hedgewitch and that her pity would prompt her to disregard the rest of the bargain. He was wrong. She pretended to go along with it at first, even offering us wine after our ordeal. The next thing I knew we were both here, in iron manacles—powerless. She told us that if we hadn’t the goods to pay for the curse Snatcher took, then we’d pay with ourselves.”

“Forgive me if I can’t feel sorry for you,” Red interrupted sarcastically. “Now, where’s my brother?”

“I don’t know where he is. I never got involved with all that.”

“All what?”

“The changeling trade. I’ve never been part of it, I swear to you.”

“Knowing about it makes you involved,” said Stitch, his voice full of disgust.

“Yes, I knew about it,” Eldritch hissed. “But I never stole any children, even though…”

“ ‘Even though’ what?” Red shouted. Her fingers twitched at her sides. It was all she could do not to strike the despicable creature before her.

“Even though I was tempted,” he finished. “The money’s good. And the connections are… better. But I never did. I kept out of it. I saw things, though, and heard things. The one with the book sticks in my mind. Snatcher had been watching the child for days, a little golden-headed boy he was.”

“That’s right,” Red whispered.

“He bragged about it—it was an easy target, he said. A children’s home… no parents around to notice the differences between the children who were taken and their replacements. And the first few he got away with easily. But the golden-headed child was proving a challenge. He had an older sister who clearly had the second sight and could see what was going on. She wouldn’t let him out of her sight, and even found ways to ward off the fey. So Snatcher waited, knowing that one day there would be a mistake that would allow him to take the child. And it was only a matter of time before he was right.”

“I didn’t make a mistake that night,” Red murmured. “Something went wrong….”

“The book he only took as an afterthought,” Eldritch continued. “He saw the word ‘fairy’ in the title. It amused him, so he took it. Later, when he realized that there were no fairies in the book at all, he no longer wanted it. I liked it though, so he traded it to me.”

“Where’s the child now?” Stitch asked.

Eldritch shook his head. “That I can’t tell you.” His eyes widened in terror as Stitch reached for the chain once more. “Please!” he cried. “I’m telling the truth! I don’t know—he never told me what he did with them, and I never asked. He mentioned a meeting with a fey woman—I don’t know who! But I’ll help you—I’ll help you look for him. Just… just get me out of here… out of these chains….”

“I believe you,” said Stitch shortly. “The problem is, we can’t find the key, and Red and I can’t wait around. So I’ll give you a choice. You can either stay here and take your chances or I can get you out… but it won’t be pretty.”

“What do you mean?” Eldritch croaked.

By way of reply, Stitch drew back his long overcoat, revealing the hilt of his dagger.

Eldritch pushed himself back against the wall.

“Oh, no… oh, no, no…”

“Forget it,” said Red. “He’s not coming with us. He’s not going anywhere. He’s a worthless coward.”

“What?” Eldritch’s voice rose in terror. “I’ll help you find your brother, I swear—”

“You were there the night I was burned. You hid your face in your hood while those wings were branded into my skin, and you did nothing.”

“But I wasn’t the one who branded you!” he cried. “It wasn’t me!”

“No,” Red roared. “But you could have stopped it. And you did
nothing
! You knew about the children
being stolen. And what did you do? NOTHING! So now I’m going to repay the favor.” She leapt to her feet and plunged her hand into her pocket until her fingers met with something small and cool to the touch, which she held aloft.

“The key!” Eldritch gasped. “You had it all along!”

“It was exactly where the Hedgewitch said it would be. And now it’s coming with me, and you’re staying here. Because now you’re going to know what it feels like to need help and the only person who can help you does…
nothing
.” She turned her eyes on Stitch, shoving the key back into her pocket. “Let’s go.”

“No!” Eldritch yelled. “No, wait! Please! Don’t leave me here!”

But Red was already on the steps leading up to the cottage, with Stitch close on her heels. When they reached the top, Red turned back to stare into the dungeon for the last time. Eldritch’s face twisted into a snarl like a rabid dog—his pretenses gone at last.

“You’ll regret this, girl!” he growled. “I’m going to get out of here, and when I do, I’ll track you down and make you pay for this!”

Red stared back at him, her emerald eyes clouded with hatred.

“I don’t think so.”

With that she slammed the trapdoor shut, and then she and Stitch collected their belongings and exited the cottage with Eldritch’s cries ringing in their ears.

Florence hurried Morag and Nell into the kitchen and fetched warm, dry blankets for them both. As Morag hobbled across the threshold into the house, Fabian made a face and tried to catch Tanya’s eye, but she refused to get caught up in his superstitious fear of the old gypsy woman.

“Nell, where on earth have you been?” Florence cried. “We’ve been worried sick!”

“And where’s my dad?” Fabian asked. “What’s happened to him?”

Nell looked at them, eyes wide with shock.

“They took him,” she said.

“Who did?” Tanya asked carefully.

Nell refused to meet her eyes, and in that instant, Tanya knew that she was too afraid to relate her experience.

“It’s all right, Nell,” she said. “You can tell us.”

Nell wrung her hands together and shook her head. “I can’t. You won’t believe me. You’ll think I’m crackers.”

“I think we should all sit down,” said Florence.

Everyone sat, except for Florence, who set about brewing a fresh pot of tea. Tanya got up and started to help, but nerves made her jittery, and after she’d broken a saucer Florence told her to sit down. The tea was poured in silence.

Morag sipped at her tea, nodding appreciatively. Tanya wondered when the last time was that the old gypsy woman had had a cup of tea made for her. She lived a lonely life, out in the woods where no one would bother her.

“I… oh, hello again,” said Morag, her birdlike eyes noticing Tanya properly for the first time. “I didn’t know you lived here.”

“Tanya is my granddaughter,” said Florence in surprise. “I was unaware that you knew each other.”

“We’ve met,” said Morag with a twinkle in her eye.

“In Tickey End,” Tanya added, keen to shield her grandmother from the true extent of her disobedience in the summer. Her visit to the gypsy woman’s caravan was something she had only shared with Fabian.