CHAPTER 4
A FAMILY CURSE
WE’D ALL BECOME so quiet that when Lucy drank from her water glass with a gurgly slurp, several faces turned her way.
“Emeralds are believed to bring good fortune,” said Mr. Sivam. “In this holy garden stands a statue of Aditi, the goddess of infinity, of freedom and the sky. Travelers to the monastery ask Aditi to free them from their sorrows. Echoes of her blessings are believed to resonate forever. For this reason, the magnificent stone on her temple was called the Echo Emerald.
“One deplorable day, over one hundred years ago, a carpenter was brought into the garden to mend the railing of a bridge that crosses a burbling stream. He had been there before, both to work and to pray. He performed this new task diligently, but it took three days of meticulous labor. Each day he carried away a bag of sawdust, in part to leave no disarray in the temple garden, and also because his wife kept chickens. The woodmeal was used to pack eggs for market. The guards of the sanctuary were accustomed to seeing this carpenter with his bag and thought nothing of it.”
“He stole the jewel!” cried Lucy.
Mr. Sivam nodded. “Was it his idea? Or was he hired to do the job by someone else? The story is different, depending on who tells it. There was a notorious scandal surrounding the theft. The Echo Emerald disappeared for many years. The carpenter himself died very soon after the bridge was fixed, from an infection of the bloodstream contracted through a small cut to his thumb. This we know. He was the first to fall victim…to the curse.”
Gasps and sighs buzzed about the room. We’d been hooked like fat fish and could not wait to hear more.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” Old Lady Greyson put down her spoon with such force that it seemed the table shook. “Must we listen to such nonsense during Christmas week?”
Her bite was so sharp that a silence fell. After a moment of staring at my blancmange, I dared to look up.
“Mother.” James’s voice was quiet, his lips tight. Marjorie’s cheeks flamed, as did Mrs. Sivam’s. Lucy was bouncing in her chair, eyes round, eagerly watching her grandmother for what might happen next. Hector met my flitting scrutiny with his own.
“Mother,” said James again. “Mr. Sivam is our guest.”
“I do not care to have my other guests upset,” said Lady Greyson, icily. She gestured toward the doctor and Grannie Jane.
“Be content,” said Grannie Jane. “I am not in the least upset. I am intrigued to hear more!”
“Hear, hear!” said Dr. Musselman.
But Mr. Sivam had risen and now made a small bow. “I apologize, Lady Greyson, if I have offended you.” He nodded to Lucy and Hector and to me. “It is merely a story. I thought the children would enjoy it.”
“Thank you, Lakshay. I believe the children are having a marvelous time.” James gave his mother a stern glare. “Please sit.”
Lady Greyson waved for her cane to be brought by a footman. “I suppose I am tired,” she said. “I shall retire and let you all carry on.”
Marjorie sprang to her feet to assist, and Grannie Jane offered to go along with her ladyship. I knew Grannie was thinking it would be rude not to, though she would far rather stay and hear the story of cursed gems and family horrors.
Mr. Sivam made a great show of lowering his voice, so that we all leaned toward him. I barely noticed as the dessert plates were removed and an array of cheeses offered.
“I have not, as yet, had any luck in tracking its complete path. Eventually, though, it came into the possession of a man named Aadhan, a partner in business with my thatha, my grandfather, Timeer Sivam. Where he got it, my father could not tell me. It had certainly caused trouble wherever it had been, for it now lay in a box accompanied by a letter with this warning…” Mr. Sivam paused to cast his warm, dark eyes directly into those of every listener. My hands were tucked firmly under my thighs to stop myself from bouncing off the chair in anticipation.
“What does the letter say?” Lucy whispered.
Mr. Sivam pretended to be reading an invisible letter in a fearsome voice. “ ‘Whosoever takes this stone shall call down wrath and anguish upon his own head and the heads of all kin who follow’…”
Ping! Frederick, the footman, had dropped a cake knife to the floor. Each of us jumped as if pricked with a pin, and all laughed in relief, including Mr. Sivam.
“A sign I have succeeded in telling a good story!” he said. “Do not be frightened off, young man!”
But Frederick blushed poppy red and retired from the room, bearing away the offending utensil.
“Do not stop there!” I pleaded.
“Aadhan’s business with my thatha failed and the blame fell on Aadhan’s shoulders. He wished to make amends by selling the emerald to recover from debt but would not tell my grandfather how he came upon such a prize. Mistrust between them grew and bad feelings were not resolved before Aadhan drowned himself.”
Another gasp went around the table. Mr. Sivam had warned us but we still were horrified.
“Lucky thing Grandmamma has gone to bed,” said Lucy.
Mr. Sivam hurried on with the tale. Aadhan’s widow, Divia, was distraught and impoverished. No greater calamity could befall a woman than to have her husband die in such a shameful manner. Timeer Sivam was driven by remorse to extend a helping hand. It was shocking news to Divia that Aadhan had owned a jewel so precious that it might have changed their fortunes. She accepted Timeer’s offer to buy the emerald, though it seemed he paid far less than its value.
“Oh no!” said Lucy. “He should have been fair. Did the curse get him too?”
Mr. Sivam nodded solemnly. “My thatha became ill with a terrible cancer. By the time he died, my father was ten or eleven years old and heard the story as I have told it to you. He inherited the emerald when he came of age at eighteen and vowed to remove it far away from anyone he loved, though it took him a great long time before he could travel such a distance. Why did he not simply carry the emerald back to the temple? I suppose he feared punishment.”
Instead, Mr. Sivam’s father had left the family behind to sail to England, taking the treasure with him. He feared a shipwreck throughout the stormy voyage, alarmed that everyone on board would be struck down by the gem’s curse. But he arrived safely in London and left the emerald in a bank vault with a letter of explanation. He returned home with a lighter heart.
“And now I shall right the wrongs of my forefathers,” said Mr. Sivam, “and put this nonsense to rest at last. I will return the Echo Emerald to its place in the garden of Aditi, where it will abide in peace.”
After dinner, Marjorie walked us up the stairs and helped to get our dresses off and our hair brushed out. Hector did for himself, but he was used to that. We were all so tired that barely a word was spoken. Marjorie checked that Dot had put warming pans between our sheets to take away the chill. Lucy was in the bigger bed, in the center of the room, the one she always had when visiting Owl Park. But I was perfectly content with the narrow cot under the window, with a headboard that formed a shelf for books. Surely I would have sweet dreams with all those stories above my head?
And yet I awoke with a jolt, the black windowpanes glinting above me like devilish eyes. A moment passed before I remembered where this window was, my heart hammering as if I’d suffered a nightmare. I saw a dim flash as Lucy tossed aside her coverlet and then I did the same. It had been no dream that had frightened me awake, but an insistent shrieking from somewhere below us in the house.