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Mr. Jonas Silver was beginning to check in on me, wondering if the dark deed had been done. I wasn’t sure how long I had until he would inevitably check on me again, but I hoped I had more of an idea of what my next move would be by then.
The darkness in the corners of the living room felt like it was staring at me, and I realized that Nox’s shadow form could be lurking anywhere, watching me work, feeling what I feel.
My desire for a snack and trashy tv was quickly snuffed out after that phone call. All I wanted was for it to be morning so I could get in touch with Hecate’s Cauldron and make some progress on the plan I’d failed to make so far. I slammed my laptop shut and dragged myself up the stairs to bed, leaving my door open should anyone want to visit in the dark of the night.
* * *
“Hecate’s Cauldron! What can I help you with?” a chipper older woman’s voice answered when I called the following morning. Her joyous tone was a smidge surprising to my still-pretty-tired-despite-sleeping-ten-hours ears.
“Um, hi!” I asked before clearing my throat. “I’ve got a question I was hoping you could answer for me, but I’ll warn you, it’s a little, um, odd?” I did my best to sound as casual as possible.
“Oh sure, honey, fire away,” the woman responded. Her Appalachian accent reminded me so much of my grandmother, and I was immediately calmed down talking to her. “I’ll do my damndest to help y’out.”
The worst thing she can say is that she doesn’t know how to help me, I reminded myself.
“That’s sweet of you, thank you,” I started. “So, let me first say I know I’m probably in way over my head over here, but I was hoping you could give me some advice as to how to break a curse?”
“Ohhhhh, dear, honey, curses work in dark magic, and I as a rule do not mess with anything that comes from evil, or evil intent, no sir-ree,” she insisted.
“Oh, no, I’m trying tobreaka curse,” I repeated. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea and assume that I was in the business of trying to curse someone else or fishing for information as to how to practice dark magick. I wasn’t sure how to lie about my circumstance and figured trying to make up a story would be really obvious to the woman on the other side, so I just told her a brief version of the story I knew to be true. Rather than letting the woman know that I was trying to free monsters, I kept it vague by calling them “spirits.”
“Curses can be broken only two ways, as far as I am aware,” the woman began, clearly won over by my story. “Either the person who cast the curse reverses it themselves, or the circumstances become impossible for any number of reasons.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking for a little more clarification.
“Well, you say the spirits are bound to the property by a bloodline?” the woman confirmed from the other end. “Can’t be no curse if there’s no property or there’s no bloodline, understand?”
Her advice was crystal clear, but I did not like the implication one bit.
“Yeah, I understand,” I mused.
“But girl!” the woman snapped. “Don’t go taking this advice like I’m tellin’ you to go off an’ burn a house down or go killin’ people, y’hear me? My advice is purely speculative.”
“Of course,” I assured her. “But this is a great starting point, and I really appreciate you taking the time.”
“No problem at all, sweetheart,” she said politely before we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone.
I paced all around the mansion while trying to come to terms with the woman’s words. It made perfect sense. The curse couldn’t exist if the family line was no longer around, but if I was going to go the distance and legitimately try to plan a murder, I had to be certain it wouldn’t backfire.
Originally, I thought it could be an easy loophole if I was able to find the original deed to the property and burn it. Unfortunately, in a modern world, properties and their boundaries existed even outside of a single piece of paper. That original deed was likely scanned and documented by a bank somewhere. It seemed unlikely that a man like Mr. Silver wouldn’t want to document and safeguard all of his assets.
So, I went back to considering my second option: ending the life of the master of the mansion.
With my mission clear, I started to sift through every drawer in the house, under every bed, and in every closet, looking for anything to hint at the history of the home and the family that owned it. I didn’t find much in the way of interest, or anything even relevant to the years since Jonas had been alive. All I found were several photo albums jammed into a forgotten shelf in the library full of ancient sepia family photos, a few old property deeds almost too faded to read, as well as some that appeared to be at least relatively recent. Curiosity encouraged me to flip through one of the many photo albums, and one particular page made my heart skip a beat.
An obituary of a little girl, no older than maybe eight years old, stared back at me from the dusty yellow page. In script, underneath the photo, were the words “Daisy Silver, 1964-1972”. The name was so familiar, but was just out of my mind’s reach. I chewed my lip for a moment as I searched my memory until the realization snapped into place. Daisy was the same name signed at the bottom of each entry in the diary I’d found forgotten in the bedside table back in the starry bedroom I’d selected.
I devoured the text underneath the photo and learned she died right here on the property doing what the obituary claimed was one of her favorite pastimes—climbing trees. My heart sank as I looked at her face smiling at me, missing teeth and all. She had felt such terror, such loneliness, and the whole time it was her family’s own prisoners causing her grief. In that moment, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had to finish this—I had to end this curse for the sake of every girl who walked through these doors, including Daisy.
As unlucky as my search had been, I didn’t trust a plain internet search to let me know if Jonas Silver had any living siblings or extended family. I was for sure not going to kill a man only to have his family’s curse transfer to an estranged sibling who had no idea of the opportunity that befell him.
I wasn’t even certain I’d be able to kill a man in the first place, but then I remembered all those news articles. All those young women missing from this place without even a hint at what happened to them. All those families mourning a life that hadn’t even truly gotten to experience what it was like to live. I thought of Mr. Jonas Silver offering me a job opportunity “perfect for a college student wanting a little extra money in their pocket,” knowing full well that he didn’t expect me to live long enough to enjoy that extra money. I thought of my dad waving goodbye to me on the morning I drove away. I thought about how that could have been the last time I ever saw him, or that he ever saw me. I thought of the hope and excitement I felt, and the naivety and sweetness of it made me burn with rage.
If there was a man who deserved to die, it was Jonas Silver, who’d proven over and over again that he prioritized even the potential of more power and authority over the lives of real people.MisterJonas Silver, who insisted on imprisoning and feeding the monsters who shouldn’t belong to anybody, let alone to him.
I remembered the gun that I’d brought along from home and said a silent prayer of thanks to my dad for his unintentional foresight. The weapon might finally have its first opportunity to serve its deadly purpose. Once I had all the information I needed, once I was sure his death would end the curse, it would be an easy thing to pull the trigger.
“You’re up late, girl,” a voice purred suddenly, piercing the silent library like an arrow. Ruse.
