Benedict Jacka - Cursed

“You,” Martin said again. His voice shook. “You’ve got it. Why? I’ve seen it, all of them, all of it, should be killing you, you’re just there , you’re sitting there, you’re …”

“You can’t learn to be a mage in a day, Martin.”

“Couldn’t be, I saw it, I had it.” Martin shook his head, distracted. “Wrong. Shouldn’t be dark, should …” He trailed off, muttering to himself.

“You know,” I said after a moment, “I spent a long time trying to figure out what to do when you made it here. And the funny thing? I realised I didn’t actually want you dead. Kind of weird. I mean, you nearly got us all killed and it’s not like I’m all that great at being forgiving.”

Martin glanced at me, then shook his head and looked away, muttering “not that, not that” under his breath. “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I could say you can’t do us much damage anymore but that’s not really true, is it? Maybe it’s because of Luna. I think she actually loved you. God knows that was a bad enough mistake but I don’t really like the idea of her first relationship in however long ending like this.” I let out a breath. “Or maybe it’s just that I’ve seen enough people die lately.”

Martin didn’t react at Luna’s name. “So I’ll tell you the truth,” I said. “Just like that day you came into my shop. Stop using the monkey’s paw. Drop it, leave it, whatever. If you do, I promise you’ll live. I don’t know how much of your mind you’ll get back, but you’ll have a chance.”

Martin stared through me, then laughed, a high sound that made my hairs rise. “Tricking, tricking …” His eyes narrowed and he snarled. “Liar! Liar, liar, liar! You did it, it was you! Should have worked, all of it, your fault, your fault!” Martin raised his right hand. His fingers were grubby and caked with dirt but the monkey’s paw was untouched, pale in the dim light. “One more wish, you know, don’t you? Been waiting, waiting …”

“Martin,” I said. “Trust me. You don’t want to do that.”

Martin laughed again, his voice wild. “Coward liar, coward liar … I know what it does, you couldn’t, too scared! Why not, hm? All this, anyone would use it, crazy not to use it …” A fine tremor was going up his arm as he held the monkey’s paw, levelled at me like a knife. “ I know. You couldn’t see.”

I sighed. “You know something, Martin? People like you-Belthas, Meredith, all of you-you make it really hard to be a good person. I just attacked a Light sanctum and killed pretty near everyone inside. I worked with one Dark mage and rescued another.” I stared into the darkness. “All those years ago, I ran away from Richard … but if he could see me now, would he really be all that upset?” I looked at Martin. “And then I look at you. And I wonder how big a deal it would really be if I went the rest of the way.”

“You’re scared, I know you are.” The glow of the torch shone back from Martin’s manic eyes. “No more. All of it, I lost it, you too.” He aimed the monkey’s paw straight at me. “I wish. I wish for you to die!”

I looked back at Martin in silence.

Martin held my gaze for a moment, then puzzlement crossed his face. He looked at the monkey’s paw, shook it. “Die. Supposed to be dead, what’s wrong, why not?”

I rose, stepped to one side, not taking my eyes off Martin. He brandished the monkey’s paw at me. “Die. Die!” He snarled in rage. “Why not? Why isn’t it working? ”

“It’s working,” I said quietly. I could feel a surge of magic building from inside the item, slow but inexorable, like a rolling wave. I began backing away along the ridge. Martin didn’t seem to notice; he stood in the edge of the cone of light from the torch, shaking the monkey’s paw. “No, no, no. Not now, not now. Work! Have to work!” He stared down at it. “You promised. Do it. Come and do it.” The monkey’s paw sat silently and Martin’s voice rose to a scream. “Come out! COME OUT!”

Something came out.

I can’t remember what it looked like. It’s not that I didn’t see it; I did. But when I try to remember, all I get is a blank. I don’t think it was the light. I think my mind got one glimpse and shut out the rest, like tripping a circuit breaker. I don’t know why and I don’t want to. Even my curiosity has its limits.

I ran. Behind me I heard Martin start to shriek, a high, horrible sound with no trace of sanity. I ran down the slope as fast as I could, every trace of my attention on the two or three seconds of footsteps ahead of me as the shrieking continued. Cool air whistled around me, the grass swishing under my feet. The shrieks rose in pitch and intensity, then abruptly cut off. The echoes rolled out over the Heath, fading into silence.

I kept running and didn’t look back. I reached the edge of the Heath before collapsing against a tree, my lungs on fire and my legs shaking. Only then did I dare to look behind me. The Heath stretched out into the night, dark and empty.

I sucked in a deep breath and started running again.

It was after three A.M. when I got home. The new window gleamed orange in the streetlights as I unlocked my front door with shaking hands. Once I was inside with the door closed behind me, I felt a little better. I went upstairs, stripped off my clothes, and took a shower.

I stayed under the hot water for a long time, letting the water wash away the sweat and the cold. Once I was warm again I towelled myself dry and went to my bedroom. I got halfway across the room and stopped.

The monkey’s paw was resting on my bed. The cylinder was open just a crack, the inner tube pulled out half an inch but not quite enough to reveal what might be inside. I stood looking at it for a long time. “So you’ve come back,” I said at last.

The monkey’s paw sat quietly. Carefully I picked it up, and carefully I walked out of my bedroom, being very sure not to jar the cylinder and slide it open. I opened the door to my safe room and placed the monkey’s paw on an empty space of table, well away from everything else. I looked down at it, then walked out, switching off the light.

Behind me, in the darkness, the monkey’s paw snapped shut with a faint click.