Power crackled in the air as Bastien twisted and jerked, his body breaking and reshaping one bone, one ligament at a time. It had taken him completely by surprise and he couldn’t hold back the scream that tore out of his mouth. All he could be thankful for was that Jules had managed to get out of the room. He only hoped she’d made it further, because, given he wasn’t in the shielding of his changing booth, the magic of the spell would hurt her if she wasn’t at least outside.
The door banged open, crashing against the plaster with a loud crack. Then hands were on him – Tamuel. “Where … Jules,” he managed to say.
“Safe.” The cupid picked him up and carried him down the hall to his booth, shutting the door. It closed with a whoosh and a pop as the magical shield that kept the power of the spell inside the booth, automatically fell into place. Violetta’s spellwork was quite ingenious.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to his friend as he stood outside the booth, arms crossed, worry deep lines on his face.
Then all thought departed as his lungs, ribs and spine twisted and reshaped and then everything was lost in the agony of the change.
An endless time later, he rolled over and groaned, the sound coming out as a squashed meow. Everything hurt, more than he’d ever remembered it hurting after a change.
It had worsened every night since Jules had found out about the curse. And his time as a human was now down to seven hours.
This was not good.
His stomach groaned and gurgled as the scent of bacon wafted under his nose and he realised just how hungry he was. And thirsty. His tongue felt like a dried leaf stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He pushed upright gingerly, surprised to realise he was on the bed. Jules must have put him here after his change was complete and the shield that protected her had disabled itself. She always saw to his comfort. She’d also placed a bowl of water on the bedside table right next to him.
As he drank his fill, he slowly became aware of the light in the room. Light not from the bulb above him but shining through the window.
Hells. How long had he been out? He needed to find Jules and the others.
He jumped down and padded across to the door, glad it had been left ajar. He slipped out into the hallway, picked up Jules’s scent – vanilla and cinnamon – and followed it down the stairs, past the lounge, through the kitchen and out into the private walled courtyard. Her scent angled towards the ivy-covered arches that led to the little garden area.
Typical she’d be out here, even with how cold it was. She loved spending time outdoors, seeking the sun and light whenever she took a break from her work in the library. She and Lianna shared that in common.
He winced at the lash of pain that was punishment for that thought, shook his head, and continued through the archway.
The three of them sat at a small table in an alcove to the left in the only area of the garden that caught the sun in winter. Water trickled down the wall and into a small pond where huge gold and white speckled goldfish swam – he was almost hungry enough to hook his paw in and fish one of them out. But he smelled bacon again. Spotted a plate piled high in the middle of the table. Thank the Gods.
Jules looked up, a smile brightening her face. “Bastien.” She patted the table beside her. His stomach rumbled as he leaped up. “You haven’t eaten? I left food for you in our room.”
“He wanted to know where you were first.”
She glanced at Tamuel. “You can hear him?”
“You can’t tell her about our cupid-link.”
Tamuel shot him a quick look as if to say ‘duh’ before smiling and saying, “I have a talent for talking to animals. Just call me Doctor Doolittle.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “I’m glad someone can hear him.” She pulled the plate of bacon to sit in front of him and began to cut it into cat-bite-sized pieces. “Eat. Now.”
He did. Voraciously.
“Better?” Jules said, stroking her hand down his back with a smile as he finished the plate a few minutes later.
He nodded, even though he was still a little hungry. Not surprising given the change took more out of him and was more vicious than ever before. A shiver chased down his spine. He didn’t want to think about what that meant right now.
“You should think about it,” Tamuel said.
“It’s not important.”
“I beg to differ.”
Bastien shook his head at the argumentative cupid. “The only thing we should be worried about is getting Jules through the trials the curse is throwing in her path to stop her from breaking it. What is happening to me is inconsequential.”
“It won’t be inconsequential if you can’t take your human form on Valentine’s Eve.”
“What is he saying?” Jules sat forward, hands clasped before her, face drawn and pale, but otherwise seemingly unhurt. She’d got away just in time, or Tamuel had got him into his booth before it was too late.
There were dark circles under her eyes though. Had she slept at all after he changed last night?
Tamuel turned to glare at him. “He doesn’t think it matters that he’s spending less and less time as a human and the change is sucking power from him.”
“Bastien.” Jules glowered at him. “Of course it matters. Grandmama and Tomaso are worried that unless you’re in the form you were in when the curse was cast, it won’t break.”
“You’re focused on the wrong thing.”
Her gaze whipped from Tamuel after he related Bastien’s words, and back to him. “Really? The fact you might not be able to hold your human form when the time comes doesn’t worry you?”
“Of course it worries me. But only breaking the curse can change it. Worrying is only going to stop you from doing what you must. Besides, I think this is another way the curse has of stopping us from reaching our goal. I think the more you worry on it, the worse it will get because it means it’s winning.”
“That makes no sense,” Jules said as Tamuel finished translating. “Why would the curse suddenly change after all this time? For you and for me? I mean, how does it know we’re here and trying to break it? Why is it suddenly upping the ante? I know I’m not an expert on magic, but I didn’t think a spell could have sentience unless the witch or wizard who cast it was alive to mould it?”
“Not usually,” Violetta said, her eyes shadowed with worry. “But this is not a usual curse. Bastien’s right. We must concentrate on the things we can control. You need to focus on how to get into the Forum without passing out. If you can’t do that, nothing else matters, does it?”
Jules made a small sound, like a whimper. Bastien put his paw on her hand to comfort her, shooting daggers at Violetta for lumping everything on Jules’s shoulders. He knew she valued speaking the truth, but didn’t she realise how her blunt speech affected her granddaughter? Especially now. He’d have to have words with her later.
Or maybe Tamuel could say something to her now. He glanced at his friend, saw the glint in his eyes as he looked between Jules and Bastien. “What is it? What have you thought of?”
“Jules is right – the curse is acting curiously. Also, it’s strange that it is growing more powerful and not less. It makes me wonder what’s at the heart of its power source.”
Violetta sat forward. “Power source? That would be Clodia wouldn’t it – ah.” She sat back, expression wondering. “I never thought of that.”
“Never thought of what?” Jules asked.
“The source of power after all this time. Curse lore states that a curse must have a power source – usually that of the witch or wizard who spelled it.”
Tamuel nodded. “That’s right. But no magical being alone is strong enough to power a curse for this long unless they have progeny to tie into powering their spellwork, and even then, it couldn’t be maintained at this level of strength. I’ve often wondered what kept it going through the ages.”
Jules nodded. “Wouldn’t the HeartsBlood Gem have something to do with that?”
Tamuel paused, eyebrows screwing up in thought. “Maybe. But only if added to an active power source. And only if it was kept near that power source.”
“Well, we think it was kept near the pentacle, don’t we?”
“The pentacle lost most of its power in the casting, so no. That wouldn’t be it.”
“Didn’t Esta write in her journal that she thought Clodia channelled into the power of her Goddess to bind the curse?”
“You never mentioned feeling the Goddess Vesta there.”
“I didn’t.”
“What is he saying?”
Tamuel told them what Bastien had said, then followed it with, “But that is pure speculation on the young Vestal Virgin’s part because there was no evidence that the Goddess Vesta appeared at all.”
“Of course she didn’t. Vesta never manifested. She was a Goddess hidden in time and mystery.” Jules said. “I’ve done a lot of research on all the pantheons over the years, and Vesta remained one of the most mysterious and secret. In fact, unlike many other Gods and Goddesses, there was no statue or bust of her in any of her forms. But her lack of manifestation is hardly proof she wasn’t there. She could have just reached through her High Priestess to place the curse, thereby ensuring it would be powered for eternity.”
“Ah, but,” Tamuel raised his finger. “Gods and Goddesses are powered by those who worship them and Vesta no longer has followers. So even if she did help Clodia – which is by no means certain – she would not have enough power now to make the curse stronger and act like it is.”
Jules sucked in a breath and chewed on her lip, her brow furrowed in that way she had when she listened to something interesting. Nodding slowly, she said, “That’s true, but … isn’t she just one face of the ultimate Goddess of the Hearth and Home? The curse would be powered by her connection to that source because we still worship many various faces of that Goddess.”
“She has a point.”
“True,” Tamuel nodded. “But each manifestation could only exist as part of the whole, with worshippers powering them through belief. Without worshippers, there is no power to tether her to the essential power that is the source of all Gods and Goddesses – the Eternal Well.” He waved his hands. “And while this discussion is fascinating, we’re off track. What I was trying to say is that I’m certain now that the curse is powered by the magic locked inside of you, Jules.”
Violetta’s eyes widened. “Of course. That’s where it went.”
“What?” Jules asked her.
“Your power. It never went into Clodia as she designed. It somehow got locked inside you. It has been powering the curse all this time.”
“But why does it react so violently against any outward source of power?”
Tamuel shrugged. “Perhaps it’s trying to protect her from more tampering?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would it hurt her?”
“I guess the powers being Goddess-touched has something to do with it. Clodia got away with using them while Lianna was alive because she didn’t try to wrest them from their seat – Lianna’s soul. Then she tried to use the HeartsBlood Gem to bind Lianna’s power and aid in the transference, but it too is Goddess-touched. That power is not meant for anyone but those who have been gifted with it. I guess, the amplification of the two together created a backlash that warped the spell and forced the powers deep inside Lianna’s soul. Unfortunately, because the HeartsBlood Gem had been used in part to bind the curse to Lianna and Sebastio, it got tied into the powers now locked inside Lianna. That’s why she doesn’t have access to her powers – they’re caught in a loop of protecting her from possible tampering by external magical forces but also powering the curse.”
Bastien stilled, gaze snapping to Jules. She was trembling. He wanted to comfort her, but she looked like she would break at the merest touch. “Why have we never realised this before?”
Tamuel shrugged. “You couldn’t remember many of the specifics and we didn’t have Violetta’s memories or Jules’s visions to give us the missing pieces of information.”
“But what does this mean?”
“It means it’s my fault,” Jules said as Tamuel finished his translation, topaz eyes wide, face pale. “That I could somehow stop it if I wasn’t so weak.” She pushed back from the table, her chair clattering to the cobbles.
“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Tamuel said.
“Jules,” Bastien cried out, the sound leaving his lips as a strangled meow as she turned and took off.
Bastien raced after her, but she slammed the door and he couldn’t get out. By the time Tamuel wrenched the door open, Jules was nowhere to be seen.
Bastien swore, his cat mouth making excellent work of the sounds, but none of it helped. “I have to find her.”
“We will. But you can’t do it like that. Stay here. I’ll go.”
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Violetta said, joining them at the door. “Jules will be back.”
“How can you be so certain?” Tamuel repeated Bastien’s question for Violetta.
“I know my granddaughter. No matter how upset she is right now, no matter how much she might want to give up, she won’t. She’ll be back because she longs to be loved and because she needs to save you.” With that, she turned back inside. “Come on, you two. No point standing there gaping at the empty street. We’ve got a lot of work to do to prepare for tonight. We’ve only got three more nights to get this right.”