Curse - Book 1 of the Wexkia trilogy

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A soft breeze ruffled her curls as she looked out over the ocean. She couldn't tell if the salt she tasted on her lips was from the ocean or her tears. As she gazed past the clumps of rusty, dead coral at the thunderheads blending into one, her chest tightened as if it was in a vice, the grey ocean and gloomy sky in front of her and the rainforest-covered mountain behind her wasn’t her little piece of heaven anymore. It was a prison. She was trapped. Trapped forever. How could her father do that to her? Did he really wish she’d died instead of her mother?

She remembered the first time she had heard those words from her father. A ten-year-old, hiding behind bushes, although she couldn't remember why. She had overheard her father talking to their neighbour, Carl Frederick.

‘You have to tell Nell,’ Carl had said.

‘I know. I will soon,’ her father replied.

She remembered having to strain to hear the rest of what her father said, and although he spoke in hushed tones, she was sure she had heard correctly.

‘The truth is, Carl, I wish (mumble) died instead of Asisa.’

Ten-year-old Nell inserted her name easily into the part-heard sentence. 'The truth is, Carl, I wish Nell had died instead of Asisa.'

The same line had played in her mind a million times since that day, and instead of becoming less painful over the years, the words burned in her memory and heart.

Her father's soft-soled footsteps sounded behind her. She turned, stepped into her white scuffs and threw him the most hateful look she could muster. Taking the stairs two at a time, she landed on the sand. ‘He hates me,’ she muttered.

The wind moved the dark clouds closer to shore. She headed for the path and as soon as she passed the front stairs, she started snatching the purple flowers off their stalks and tossing them at the wall of the house. By the time she’d got to the front corner, she’d de-headed every bloom she could get her hands on. Turning onto the path, she stopped and moaned, ‘I’m going to get sick of hanging around here. Ugh. How many times can I go to and from the Frederick’s place?’ More tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped them away. ‘This is the worst day in my life.’

Humph. Crossing her arms, she slouched along the path curving its way at the foot of MountGrief. It was so quiet except for an animal’s call every now and then from the rainforest to her left and the sound of waves gently lapping the beach to her right. ‘Grrr,’ she growled. She was sick of being so isolated. She kicked the first fallen coconut she found. Searing pain filled her toes. Clasping both hands around her foot, she dropped down, moaning. ‘Ow, ow, ow.’

After several moments, the pain subsided and she checked each of her toes. None appeared broken. She stood up and gingerly tested her foot but as she took a step, a movement caught her eye.

A person meandered between the trees a little way up the mountain. Her mouth opened to call out a greeting but the crocodile’s words filled her mind, ‘You are in danger’. She checked herself and crouched low behind a bush. It looked like a man by the way he moved, although his movements were more of a skulk than anything else. He wore a dark-grey cape and hood and moved closer to the house. He was as out of place in CapeHollow as the man who was with her father earlier.    

She bit her cheek. Lots of people wear grey. But hikers didn't wear capes and there were no walking or riding trails on that part of MountGrief. Maybe he was lost.

The man stopped. Nell sank deeper into the undergrowth without taking her eyes off him. The cape was of the same style as the green one her father’s visitor had worn. She squinted and studied his appearance. Maybe they came from a cold place and didn’t realise how hot it was in North Queensland. The man at the house was a friend of her father. The man on the mountain might be as well.