A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1) Read online

  "The one thing I always agreed with Gran on. If you're good at something, charge for it. Most people can go to the church or the Yahoos and get the job done cheaper. Just not as thoroughly or precisely."

  I continued "Besides, you agreed you'd put a counter-curse on my client if I hadn't cursed anyone. Go on. Then we'll talk more."

  She muttered something under her breath as she went over to Fidelma. "May I please complete the bargain with my cousin?" She asked Fidelma

  Fidelma nodded her head. Isolde went over to her cupboard and took out a small jar of something, grabbed a pinch and walked back over to the chair. With a brief chant in Latin, she sprinkled it over Fidelma's head, her good wing at full extension. There was a moment of preternatural calm, and then I felt the hairs on the back of my neck go down. I hadn't even noticed they had been raised.

  Fidelma's hand went up to brush the salt from her hair. Isolde's hand shot out to grab the wrist, and I shouted "Don't," nearly simultaneously. Fidelma froze. "I told you yesterday. It needs two hours to set. And I have no way to know how long Isolde's one will last. Mine lasted just under twenty-four hours, Isolde's less experienced - by a long shot - but I'm guessing she used purified sea salt rather than the table salt I had on hand yesterday. So it could be as effective or more so."

  I was pumping my cousin's ego up a little here. My casting had broken when Gran had failed to remove the curse, as it re-established itself on Fidelma. I also needed Issy to come with us. Best we get started as soon as possible on training her. Yes, we. I figured Fidelma was good enough to start training her in self-defense.

  "Now, first things first cuz. I need to set that wing and it's gonna hurt like hell. But it'll ache forever if it heals wrong. I guess it hurts now, even if you've told everyone it doesn't." There was fear in her eyes. "Come here and let me set and splint it cuz. I don't want you to suffer any more than you absolutely have to." As she sat there frozen, I silently pointed to the bandages and splints, I had already laid out.

  "I'm even gonna put one o' my poultices on it and hope to hell and back it works on you. I doubt anyone knows - I've never heard of a Fury getting a broken wing before. Losing her wings, sure, on occasion. Sacrificing them and her memories for true love, once or twice. But getting 'em broke? Nope. We can do this the easy way or I can chase ya down if I 'ave ta, but it's gettin' done." I was still furious that someone had done this to her. Also that the other Furies hadn't even set it yet.

  She glared at me. She knew if I couldn't catch her as a human I'd just find her in my thylacine form and drag her back. Quietly, she asked, "Can I at least lie down in bed while you do it?"

  "Whatever works for you, lass." I carefully gathered the equipment and followed her to her bedroom. Oh, at this point you're probably wondering how the wings work. They tend to phase through non-living matter unless it's been specifically prepared and vanilla humans can't see or touch 'em. supes can see them and some can touch them. The list of those that could was too long to narrow it down. Although they are visible and damageable when a supe is using their peculiar abilities (an angel calling on their Grace. A Fury in the process of cursing someone... wait.)

  "And stop playing the martyr because you almost cursed someone. I finally figured out how they damaged your wing. They interrupted you in the process of cursing them, and the pain broke your concentration."

  There was absolute silence for a moment, then her face poked through the doorway. Fidelma rose from the chair and followed me down the hall. I'd warned her what I was doing could be dangerous to her, if she chose to ignore that it was no skin off my nose. I'd regret it if something went wrong, but she was a big girl, capable of making her own decisions.

  For the first time, I saw spirit in her eyes, with fire and anger behind them. "Don't you dare tell Gran! Or any of the others. Do you know how much shit they'd give me? Right now they think it had to be Rakshasa or another supernatural. But if they knew I'd almost broken down and cursed humans in self-defense, I'd never live it down."

  "I might have a couple of quibbles on what you'll need to do for me before I agree to that. The first is let me set the damned wing, so go on. Lie flat on your face on the bed." I turned to Fidelma "And you have to wait at the door. If someone comes over and asks what the scream was about, feel free to tell them the truth about what's happening here. Don't tell them how I convinced her or what I just revealed. That stays among us three." I gave her a meaningful glare, and she hastily nodded, more fear on her face than was deserved I felt.

  Once Isolde was lying down on the bed, as relaxed as she could be, I walked over to the side with the broken wing. Grabbing both sides of the break and feeling for the edges. At least it was fairly clean. I braced myself and, as quickly as possible (there is no gentle way to set a bone) wrenching it back into place and holding it there until she stopped struggling. The scream she let out was horrendous. I was deafened by it. Fidelma moved to step forward, but when she saw me shaking my head firmly she stopped. I think she was trying to tell me something, but I'd never learned to read lips, so fuck if I know what she was trying to say.

  Isolde was covered in sweat and cursing up a storm, I'd guess. I wish I could have heard it, but them's the breaks. Once she had stopped struggling, I shifted one hand to cover the break and held it there, then reached for the open bag with the poultice in it with the other. Blowing my ears to get the ringing to stop seemed to work as the reverb slowly subsided. I also learned something new. Wear ear protection when you set a sup's wing. I don't care how tough they are there's gonna be a lot of pain. Some Demons like that, but you'll still need the ear protection.

  I saw Fidelma cringe at something, so I went to thump my head, then remembered I had damp poultice still on my hands. I pointed at the sink in the bathroom across the hall. She looked behind herself and hustled to turn it on and get out of my way. I kept my hands under the water for about five minutes, washing them thoroughly. Once I was sure my hands wouldn't kill anyone, I left the room and was starting to hear loud things again.

  Fidelma was shouting at someone at the front door. I recognized them. It was Uncle Ivan, Isolde's father. He could be a mean, arrogant, foolishly vindictive bastard, so I gently shifted her out of the way. He'd become a Fury by contract because my Aunt had liked his looks and his nature suited the type perfectly.

  "Ivan, fuck off. If you have a problem with me being here and helping my baby cousin, you can take it up with Granny Alecto. Since I got her permission, that's your choice. If you really loved your daughter, you would have set her wing, whether she wanted it or not. You wouldn't have left her like this." I said in an ice cold voice.

  I'd never liked Ivan. He called me a freak who should be put down, several times when I was younger. Often enough to my face. Saying I despised the man was going into British understatement territory.

  His face went white, and he started to curse me, his wings transitioning from shadowy to solid, so I kicked him in the balls and spat on him.

  "Get the fuck outta my sight before I break your wing." Ivan got to his feet uncomfortably, looking nervous. That might be a threat I couldn't carry out, but he didn't know either way. To be honest neither did I, but that wasn't what was showing on my face.

  In gasping yells, I heard him say "If any harm... comes to... my girl... I'll come for you... you little prick" Since he was the one being a prick I walked up to him and kneed him in the balls. It might have been overkill, but I didn't care. I knew if Gran didn't like it, Dan would convince her to let it go. Gramps couldn't stand Ivan.

  There was a crowd standing in a circle around Ivan and me by now. Mostly made up of neighbors and people who lived along the street but a few Furies that had been flying nearby and had landed at the sound of Issy's screams. Many of them had neutral faces, with a couple of frowns and scowls, but there were more smiles scattered around the crowd.

  As Ivan was getting to his feet, I glared at him. "If you want to threaten me more, I have plenty of time to teach you to respect
me, you slime that slid down your mother's leg after your brother was born... Come and get your arse kicked any time. I won't take shit from an...y...one." With the drawn out last word, I shifted my glare to cover the entire crowd. "Y'all got that?" There were plenty of nods from around the crowd, and it dispersed. Ivan got up and roared. Charging at me and throwing a haymaker. I'd had enough of this guy. I blocked the blow, put both my hands on his shoulders, and kneed him in the balls again, harder. There was a whispered groan from his mouth, and he collapsed to the ground.

  I stepped back from him, tempted to kick him in the head. I looked up to see my aunt standing there with her head cocked sideways. I took a deep breath and stepped back, nodding to her. My aunt waved at a couple of the humans who had stuck around forward, and they dragged the barely-conscious Ivan away.

  Elizabita was okay. She had horrible taste in men but was more into curses for justified reasons than most Furies. Of all the ones I'd met she came closest to how I saw them fitting into the world. For that, she had my respect.

  She walked up and hugged me saying "Please look after my daughter. I'm asking you as family. I want her to know that she is loved. We should have done better by you, I know. Please do better by her."

  I looked at her, raising an eyebrow "You're not pissed at what I did to Ivan?"

  She snorted, saying "I love the man, but I'm not blind to his faults. He's a bombastic bully. You standing up to him will do him some good. Now go and make sure my daughter is okay, you ox. I do like your body today... it must have made dealing with Ivan easier." She finished with a grin.

  She was right about that.

  I walked back to the house, passing Fidelma, and heard the shower come on. I double checked that it was Fidelma at the door. It was.

  "Your cousin wanted to wash the 'gunk' off her wing. If you hadn't been deafened, you would have been able to hear the horrible sound of her bones knitting. The poultice worked, but I wasn't gonna touch it after your warnings. So..."

  I looked at her, nodded and said. "Find her suitcase and pack stuff for her in it. Start with the basics and go from there. We're leaving before her father can come back. Reckon he'll be out for at least an hour. If I'd hit a human as hard as I kneed him the second time, the poor sod's balls would be embedded in his lungs." That wasn't a metaphor. That had been done by me... once. That was how the SSC had found me and made me a consultant, but only after a period of resistance and a few weeks in 'Heaven and Hell.'

  Hearing the shower turn off after a couple of minutes, I yelled, "Longer," through the door. Isolde turned the shower back on as I rummaged through her kitchen to make sandwiches for the road. I heard some fumbling in the bedroom, so Fidelma was following my request. There was plenty food in the form of cold cuts and a charcoal-cooked chicken in the fridge, along with some butter. I looked through the cupboards and found a day-old loaf of bread from Elizabita's favorite bakery.

  Also, a note pleading to her daughter to eat something, with a phone number and an open invitation to dinner at the bottom. I pocketed that. I was now thinking of my aunt as Aunt Elizabita, rather than just Elizabita. It was the kind of feeling I'd wished for growing up, but better late than never.

  Chapter 9

  There was a brief argument with Isolde about her coming along and a longer delay as she packed two more bags. As she was packing them, she asked Fidelma "He really fought my father and kicked him in the balls?"

  "Yup. Then you called, so I went back to help if I could. I'd guess he wasn't joking about kneeing him to unconsciousness either, girl. He was so angry. You could almost feel it coming off him," Fidelma answered.

  "Like most people can feel joy from you constantly?" I quipped

  She grimaced but nodded.

  "Damn. I wish I coulda seen that. Dad was mean growing up, always telling me I wasn't worth the effort to raise 'cause I had no fire about me. I think he wanted a boy. Mum did her best, though." She paused. "Wait, are you some kinda projective Empath? Why can't I feel anything from you then?"

  I looked at Fidelma and shrugged. "I dunno. A problem for another time." Isolde went back to focussing on the packing.

  I'd have to remind her about the note from her Mother later. Maybe Aunt Elizabita and Gran could come round to dinner some time... without Ivan, but Dan would be fine.

  "I so don't wanna be here, especially alone, when Dad comes back."

  After another twenty minutes of packing, I called time. "We gotta get going. I still got a curse to break, and the clock is ticking on your counter-curse. Let's go!"

  Isolde passed me carrying her bags, but Fidelma grabbed my arm and held me back for a moment. "Are you sure she should travel with us? Neither of us knows how bad it's going to get. She's barely past school age, Thal."

  Moving forward slowly I answered her, "Isolde's gotta learn from a new school. I'll explain to both of you in the car. But if she doesn't start learning ASAP, she's just gonna have to learn the same lessons later. Best to get started now."

  Fidelma didn't look convinced but accepted that we needed to move. "Oh, I'm assuming you know where your father is buried, right?" I said.

  "Yes. Why?"

  "Next stop. I need to summon his ghost so I can find out who in the family was first cursed and where his remains are buried."

  She scowled at me "Necromancy? Really? My mum's gonna kill me when she finds out. That might be enough to shock her out of perpetual joy, at least for a few minutes."

  "I kinda doubt it. Your second curse is pretty powerful."

  She poked her tongue out at me, and I laughed. We reached the car, and she chose to sit in the back. I grabbed a random sandwich. Isolde was already eating one and Fidelma followed suit.

  "So which way, oh guide?"

  "North, past Toowoomba, then towards the coast."

  "Righty -o."

  We drove in relative quiet, The Living End playing softly on the radio, munching on our sandwiches. When I finished one, I reached one of my hands back and was handed another. When the mp3 player hit 'Nowhere Town' I had to smile. The number of towns that weren't on any map, worldwide, would have surprised most people. Magical colonies shielded themselves from observation. Even satellites wouldn't be able to spot them.

  "So Issy, This is the deal. You don't want to curse anyone, that's fine by me. But you need to do three things. First, you need to learn how to defend yourself and get fit enough to actually do it. That fight you put up when I set your wing was pathetic. Furies are supposed to be stronger than that for a reason - so they don't have to use curses as a first resort." I shook my head, knowing she'd be able to see it "Think of the chaos if they couldn't defend themselves. Next - If you are a Fury and not cursing, you need to be curse-breaking. Word'll get 'round, and you won't constantly be fighting hunters out for the church bounty on potential, non-angelic, curse givers."

  Fidelma piped up. "That's not fair Thal, She deserves to choose her own line of work. It's not like she's to blame for what she was born as."

  "No, she's not. But everyone's limited by what they're born to in some way. I'm not saying she has to be a curse-breaker for eternity either. I am saying she needs to become a reputable one in the interim, or her life is gonna be one long, bloody battle. And she'll fail to achieve her stated goal because eventually she'll be killed. When they are killed, all Furies give off a death curse whether they want to or not. She doesn't wanna do that, so she's gotta take steps."

  "He's right," Isolde whispered.

  "Third, you gotta stay with me. I'm happy to teach you, but I can only protect you when you're at my side or at least nearby. You'd best believe that Warlocks and Rakshasa and the like would love to get their hands on you."

  "'Kay." She mumbled. It was a lot to digest, so I turned the music up a bit before continuing.

  "Get some rest, if ya can, both of ya. We got a long night ahead. Summoning a ghost in daylight ain't the best. They are cranky when ya do. You can still get the info outta them, but it takes more effort. Always take
the path of least resistance when ya can."

  Shortly I could hear that Fidelma had taken my advice. Her snores were actually kinda sweet. I hoped that Isolde was sleeping as well. I put my foot down and picked up the pace. It'd be best to set up before dark.

  We took the better part of six hours to reach the grave, with the last hour and a half of driving on god-awful dirt tracks. Then we had to hike the last half hour, each of us with a shotgun, and sharing the burden of a backpack of summoning gear, another of supplies and a spear. I took the point, with the spear and one backpack.

  Forks, Vegemite, and toothpaste were all useless against Drop Bears. Reputed solutions don't always work against semi-magical creatures. A spear pointed a distance above your head did wonders when they dropped on top of you if it had a cross-guard behind the blade, though. Those suckers could maul someone good, but weren't the brightest sparks. Better safe 'n sorry. None had been reported in the area, but after the adult Yowie not being reported, I wasn't in a trusting frame of mind on reports.

  We reached the grave site just before sunset, and started preparing for the ritual. Necromancy, at least white necromancy, can be tricky. Any idiot with the right spell can raise a zombie, or animate a skeleton. There was more finesse required to raising a ghost.

  I laid out the summoning symbol inside a circle made from a white rope that had been soaked in seawater. The summoning symbol was in purple thread. Describe it? Nah. Sorry, but maybe you can find someone to draw it for you sometime. Too complex to explain. I took me forty-five minutes to get it laid out, check it and correct the small mistakes.

  The grave site was interesting. Typical Elven choice for a grave, middle of nowhere, but, probably because of his curse I guess, it was half an hour's walk in the opposite direction from the rest of the bodies. Not like elves, they knew a generational curse left a body at death, but something caused them to put it here. Something to investigate later, maybe.

  It was a clear night. I started in on Issy's first lesson.