Blessings of the Curse

chapter 9

The morning sun was trying to peek through the tree tops and inch its way upwards, as Cynthia opened her eyes. She needed the rest but her sleep was light, and plagued with

nightmares of fanged, grotesquely shaped monsters that came from everywhere at her.

Her muscles ached and complained, the stiffness in her shoulders from sleeping on the makeshift bed hurt the worst. It had been a long time since she'd had to sleep outdoors on the ground and she dreaded doing it again. After all, she wasn't a kid anymore.

The fire was down to smoking coals and light red embers. It was a decently warm morning, so she didn't bother to rekindle it. She turned her head from side to side to stretch her neck, and felt the wonderful sensation of her neck popping. As she did this, she looked around but couldn't find anyone. She didn't think anything about it because, as Draven said, just because they weren't seen didn't mean they weren't around.

She desperately wanted a bath and a change of clothes. Her green dress was not designed for the rugged terrain she was in. At least she had Draven's jacket. Her body felt grungy and nasty. Her breath tasted like paint thinner and could probably be used as a weapon if needed. Her stomach grumbled with hunger. The nuts and berries didn't last long and she was afraid to ask them for real food because they'd probably bring her back a severed head, or something worse.

She was slightly glad that no one was around. She felt so uncomfortable around them. Even after Draven had confided in her last night, he still wanted to distance himself. Growing up, she thought they were heroes, and often dreamed about joining them on adventures. She had to smile to herself. If she was eight, she might be having fun, now as an adult she had adult things to worry about. She needed to get to a phone and call the school to see how Michelle was. And she'd have to call Blake Townsend at the museum, let him know she was okay. They probably feared the worst, she guessed. The cops would have seen the mess at her place and suspected she was abducted or murdered. They'd never think to look a state away, or was it two states away? Everything went by so quickly. Maybe they just flew around in circles, she didn't know. Neither had told her exactly where she was.

She stood and stretched her muscles out again, enjoying the refreshing, cleansing burn.

Running her fingers through her hair she cursed out loud when she found a small tick behind her ear. She kicked a half -burnt piece of wood in the fire in frustration and then she kicked her leg out at the air, wishing that one of them was there to receive her wrath. Sighing loudly, after the rage had passed, she put her hands on her hips and paced the circle, trying to think of some way out of this fantasy world. Obviously, Draven was planning something too, she doubted Secore

had the ability to even think long term. She wished her uncle had never found that damn book.

Her eyes locked on it with a glare that threatened to burn a hole right through it. She snatched it up and sat Indian-style and thumbed through the infernal thing, examining the scriptures and pictures again. There were many illustrations in it. Some were well crafted

battle scenes with bloody bodies stacked on top of one another, with small captions which were written at the top and bottom, but of course, she didn't know what it meant.

Towards the end of the book she found artwork of Secore and Draven as well, drawn hideously with long fangs, wild eyes and hair, with blood dripping from freakishly long claws on their hands. It was a ghoulish rendition, but then later they were drawn placid, almost humble, with a light shining from their chests looking peaceful.

When she was young her uncle would let her look through it and she could have sworn it was written in english. Yes, it had to have been because she could read it! She remembered that some things he would help her sound out and she could read! Maybe it had something to do with her age and that she really believed in sorcery and the like. Was the book helping her along back then? She couldn't mention this to either of her protectors/captors. That would only add to them pressuring her. She still didn't think it wise to put too much trust in them. Besides, she couldn't think of anything else to help her. There seemed to be some kind of block in her memory, a brick wall that she would have to bust through to get to the truth on the other side. It was as if the words themselves had changed. Could that really happen? Her uncle Bruce said it happened to him, that's how he was able to read it. He was right about all of it so far. So then...