The Blessing Curse

UPDATE!

2009-01-23T17:20:00.001-08:00

New updates will be delayed until further notice due to school, car problems, and life in general.

Chapter 8: A Decision is Made

2009-01-17T11:16:00.000-08:00

Reza waited at the crossroads for her mother to come for her. She sat on an old tree stump, her eyes were red from crying. They were dry now. She was patient, she was quiet, but most of all she was empty.

After waking in the woods the morning after her mother’s disappearance, she had run to the camp weeping like a child. Vasili, the camp leader, and Giorgi the Big were the first to spot her. They were heading into the forest, each man holding a rifle. Reza’s first thought was that men were heading into the forest to find her mother and herself, taking the guns with them for protection. They were talking and laughing together as if the world hadn’t just ended, walking at a leisurely pace. They took one look at Reza, saw the crusted blood and her tattered dress, saw the tears streaming down her face, and froze. Giorgi ran to her, hastily placing his rifle on the ground, and took her into his arms.

“What has happened?” he said as Reza sobbed into his broad shoulders. Giorgi was a huge man. Reza felt like a tiny doll in the arms of a giant. He gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with one large, callused finger. “Where is your mother?”

“It got her,” Reza said between sobs. “It was a true dream.”

Vasili had caught up to them but kept his distance. He had always been nervous around the child. He had seen with his own eyes what Reza was capable of when she was scared or angry. The entire camp had seen. Only Giorgi, blinded by love for Sasha, and the Nans would even consider touching the girl.

“What got her,” Giorgi asked with a desperate gleam in his eyes. “What beast did this? Tell me and I will track it down.”

“The beast in the tower.”

“The monster has broken the covenant,” asked Vasili. “Are you certain, child?”

Reza nodded. She told them what had occurred in the forest and the two men shared a look of shock and rage.

“I’ll tear that bastard apart with my own two hands!” cried Giorgi. He held Reza tight against his chest while growling curses under his breath.

“Do not despair, my friend,” Vasili said patting the large man on the shoulder. “We may still have time to save her.”

They headed back to the camp to tell the others.
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They were Lovari Rom, horse traders. They went from town to town, village to village, buying and selling horses. The women told fortunes and sold potions and the like. The Gaje liked to say they were horse thieves and witches. The Lovari didn’t care what they said so long as they got paid and were left alone.

Their current settlement was located on the outskirts of Cearta near the crossroads. When they had first made camp here, the village elder had warned their leader Vasili that he and his people would not be welcomed. If they came any closer to Cearta, they would be run out. This was fine by them. The towns people were Gaje—outsiders—and therefore marime’—impure—and must be avoided whenever possible.

It felt like a kris, thought Reza as the people of the camp gathered together outside Vasili’s wagon. They yelled and screamed as they debated Sasha’s fate and the beast’s punishment for his crime. Most spoke of her as if her mother was already dead.

Certainly she would be marime’ if she was still alive, said Janos, and would have to live apart from the camp if she was returned, perhaps permanently. The woman wasn’t really one of them anyway. This caused much dispute from Giorgi who threatened to thrash him for even suggesting this.

They argued what to do with the monster. Some like Giorgi claimed he should be burned out of his tower during the day. This idea was rejected because no one was sure if the tower was the beast’s true day time resting place. If they were wrong they would lose the element of surprise. And the beast would not be pleased. No one wanted to spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulder every night.

In the end, it was decided a group of men would be sent to the tower to demand her mother’s return. They would leave the beast to his own devices if Sasha was untouched and alive. If it was too late and Sasha was dead or it refused to turn her over to them, they would storm the tower with torches, stakes, and spells. It was risky. His kind were most powerful when darkness fell, but he had broken their covenant and that could not be ignored. And he probably would turn her over anyway, Vasili postulated. The beast may have his pride, but he was practical. He would try to negotiate with them, perhaps demand something in return, and they would do their best to accommodate him, but the woman must be returned.

They went off—Giorgi and Vasili leading the pack—knowing they would return with what they came for. Only Reza and the Nans knew the ones that came back would return empty handed.

Chapter 7: Promises Kept, Promises Yet to Keep

2009-01-08T00:11:00.000-08:00

Merick heard their screams just as day was breaking. Miles away and safe within the strong stone walls of his ancestral tower, he heard them as if he were standing next to them. He felt their agony and then felt nothing. After that he could not sense them at all. He called to them, but there was no answer. They were gone.

The girl had run to the camp to get help. This must be so. His pets were simple minded and weak but no child had the strength to hunt down two of his kind no matter how clever she could be. Merick had hoped his pets would have killed the child. He would have returned to find the body, perhaps set his wolves to feast on the remains. Her people would have thought it an animal attack. They would have searched for the mother and found nothing. The brat had spoiled his plans.

The filthy gypsies had killed his pets. His rage was too great to contain. It spilled out of him in howls of anger as he beat his fists into the cold stone walls. The thick blocks cracked with each blow. He heard the woman whimpering softly behind him.

She cowered in the corner of the dark windowless cell. The woman’s wrists and ankles were chained to the floor, the sturdy metal chains clanked and rattled as she trembled. He could smell the blood drying at the nape of her neck and smiled. He would have another pet soon. Two more nights and she would be his.

Unless her people interfered.

Merick’s smile faltered as he considered the situation the mother and child had put him in. The gypsies would come, of that he was certain. If the child was indeed safe, they would come to plead for the life of the mother. They were knowledgeable enough to know she could not be transformed in one night. If he handed the woman over unchanged, they would leave him in peace. The Rom might know all the ways to kill a vampire, but they also knew all the ways he could kill them. There were only a handful in the area. They would do what they had to do to avoid conflict.

They have killed my pets. The thought ran circles around his mind. The woman and her child would live, but his pets would never return to him. He turned to the shivering creature in the corner wishing he could beat her pretty face into the wall, wishing he could find her brat of a child and force her to watch.

Tears trickled down the woman’s cheeks and her lower lip trembled. It pleased Merick to see her frightened. If he could not punish the child, he would punish the mother in her place. The gypsies owed him that much.

“Please,” she said, “Let me go home, sir.”

It wasn’t the first time she had begged. When he found her in her hiding place, she begged him not to kill her.

“Come with me quietly and I won’t kill you here,” he had promised. She did as she was told.

She begged him to call off the others. “Hannah and the other one,” she called them, to leave her daughter alone. He promised the girl would be taken care of and he meant to keep that promise.

Now she wanted to go home and soon her people would come to retrieve her. He smiled.

“Do you truly wish to return to your camp?”

The woman nodded. He went to her and knelt beside her. She flinched as she sensed his body close to her. Merick gently caressed her cheek and whispered into her ear.

“Do you truly wish to be reunited with your daughter?”

“More than anything.” The woman shook her head emphatically. “I want my Reza!”

“Then you shall have her.”

Merick kissed her quivering lips. The woman cringed and shrank into the cold stones.

“When?”

His lips traced a line down her cheek, down the apex of her neck where the blood crusted from the previous night’s feeding. He licked the wound wet and felt the juicy vein beneath the flesh pound faster with her fear. He enjoyed the coppery flavor as she sat still as frightened hare.

“When?”

“As soon as you are ready, my pet,” he replied grabbing her with enough force to make her yelp in pain. “Haven’t I kept all my promises?”

Chapter 6: The Doll Dream

2008-12-30T21:19:00.000-08:00

Daylight crept between the branches high above as Reza lay upon the wet forest floor, exhausted from her run. Blood from the gash in her forehead dried in red crusted clumps as sleep overtook her.

She dreamed of two falling stars that turned to ash before they hit the earth. She dreamed of a doll, a marionette with strings and the boy who pulled them to make her dance and walk and do tricks. In the dream, her master was a mischievous prince who couldn’t be taught or scolded. He enjoyed his games. She dreamed such things that made her blood boil with rage.

Why didn’t I curse him first?

She dreamed of the wicked prince and how he screamed in fury as the stars turned to dust. She dreamed of the little marionette doll walking the long journey to Reza’s camp, her strings being pulled the entire way by her master’s talented fingers. She saw a monster wearing a mask of her mother’s face and knew the woman was lost to her. She saw the dead flesh beneath the mask, how it flaked away as fire devoured it. Saw how the ash was carried away in the breeze and floated through the sky choking everyone who breathed it in.

And then she came upon two gates and knew one would make her a number while the other would make her the acrid air. She cried because she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to choose, so she made the only choice she could and held out a hand full of white lines and made that last cut.

This is my death dream, she thought as the dream blade bit into her skin. This is how I die. But not today and not by him.

As the story of her end unfolded, another part of her mind wondered to the monster and the beautiful marionette he would help destroy. In her fretful sleep, Reza’s left hand twitched with anticipation.

Chapter 5: Blessings With the Right Hand, Curses With the Left

2008-12-22T09:05:00.000-08:00

Blessings with the right hand, curses with the left. Blood must be shed to enact either and there must always be a strong intent. The recipient could receive one blessing and one curse each, no more. These were the rules of her gift. No one had taught Reza these things. She had to learn on her own.

She thought of this as she ran back to the spot she had left her mother. Blessings with the right hand, curses with the left, and she only had two hands. She ran. Her legs ached from the strain and her lungs were on fire but she ran faster and faster all the while thinking, three against two. Three against one if one considered her mother would only get in the way.

I could have taken one or two, no more than that, she rationalized. Even if I had done that much, the last would be on us in seconds and we would both be dead or worse. I did what I had to do.

She ran faster. Her heart beat against her breast bone so hard she thought it would escape from her chest, but she kept running. Faster and faster and her thoughts kept pace with her legs.

I should have cursed him first, she thought unable to out run her thoughts. He was their master. Would the others have perished with him or would they have lived long enough to attack in their rage? She couldn’t be sure. Had she thought of this before she ran? She couldn’t remember.

Why did I leave her behind?

Reza ran, her legs pumping, her heart racing, her lungs set to burst. She ran but she couldn’t run away from the thoughts that followed her. She was only twelve, no longer a child but barely a woman. And it wasn’t fair. Why was it always left to her to make these important decisions? Why was it always her to lead and protect and to take care? It was the old regret coming to slow her down, she knew.

She commanded herself not to think. She ran. She ran so fast that she tripped over a broken branch of a fallen birch and hit her forehead on a smooth rock in the earth as she landed face down. There was a sharp pain and she fought to remain conscious as blood trickled from a gash in her head and stung her right eye.

Reza caught her breath. She listened. The gurgling brook was nearby. She saw the rotted log a few feet away where a pile of leaves had been disturbed.

Perhaps mother had run off to find a better hiding spot. Perhaps she was lost in the woods and searching for her daughter. The woman had the patience of a child and never could stay still for long. She was lost in the woods looking for her Reza while the monster ran after his pets. She would be safe.

As hard as Reza tried to believe in this pretty lie, she couldn’t help but remember her true dream and think of the dancing marionette with the face of her mother and the monster that pulled its strings.
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Since the moment they were turned, Hannah and Magda had known no peace. They felt a hunger that could never be satiated and they longed to please the man they called master. If he demanded silence, they became mute. If it was his wish for something to be done, it was their desire to see this wish come to fruition.

The girl had escaped. The master had commanded them to kill her and they had failed. He would not be pleased.

They searched the surrounding woods for her but there were no traces of her. The early morning dew had taken her scent and the sun would rise soon. They turned their heads up to look at the patches of sky hiding between the trees. It was still dark but the stars had died away and they could sense the rushing morning light even without seeing it. Its coming usually made them fearful.

The two frowned as one.

“Do you remember?” asked Hannah.

“The light?” asked Magda.

Hannah nodded. “Since the master came, I have been so frightened of the light.”

Neither woman turned to look at the other, so enthralled were they both.

“The light burns,” said Magda.

“Yes,” replied Hannah.

Somewhere beyond the trees the sun was rising. An unfamiliar longing came upon her. It came upon her with such a force it hurt her not to think about it. It hurt worse than the first hunger she felt when woke from death. It hurt worse than being away from the master.

Hannah reluctantly turned her face from the sky to glance at her companion. Magda did the same.

“We should go back,” said Magda.

Hannah nodded. Neither woman moved.

They looked up. Without relaying her intentions to her companion, Hannah began to clime the nearest pine to get a better look. Magda followed. They did this sometimes, climbed up high to search for prey or to spy on the mortals of the nearby towns. The sun had perched itself just over the tree lined horizon. Their skin sizzled the higher they climbed bursting into flames just as they made it to the top of the pine, burning needles and branches along with them.

Ash from their bodies mixed with the ash from the burning pine and floated down to the forest floor like grey snow. The women who were once Hannah and Magda hungered no longer, finally a peace.

Chapter 4: Hannah and Magda's Curse

2008-12-16T23:10:00.001-08:00

Sorry about the long wait. It's been a busy year. Here's the next update:

Chapter Four:

They were beautiful if you didn’t know what they were. Reza supposed this was why the vampire chose them. One had hair as dark as a raven’s wing and eyes greener than the forest leaves come spring time. And Reza remembered her.

Her name had been Magda. She once had the kindest eyes Reza had ever seen. She had lived in the town with her father selling hot pies and cakes. Once, Magda had been kind enough to give Reza a latke when she was five. It was the best potato pancake she had ever tasted. Reza had said as much causing Magda to blush with pride.

Now she is pale and thin and her eyes are no longer kind.

Petar the blacksmith had been desperately in love with her. It was said by the other towns people that he had been planning to ask her father for permission to marry the girl just before Magda disappeared.

There had been rumors that she had run off with some man from the city, but the Nans had never believed it. Neither had Petar. He had begged the people in the town to search the woods for her, to go to the nearby castle and demand her back. They told him he was a fool to even say such a thing. Even Magda’s father had given her up for dead.

Petar went to the woods to retrieve his love, stopping at their camp to speak with Old Nan. He had begged for any talismans or trinkets she could offer that would aid him. Old Nan did what she could but warned him he would not be successful in his quest. He would be too late. He would be killed. But Petar had the light of vengeance in his eyes and it burned through to his very soul. He left with Old Nan’s gifts and made his way to the monster’s lair.

He never came back.

The other girl—Hannah, her mother called her—hissed at Reza. This one was even paler than Magda, her complexion before death naturally light and her eyes as grey as an overcast sky.

She had once looked after her mother when she was just a child. Reza had never met her in life but her mother had told her about the woman after she caught Reza jumping in the lake. Mother was terrified of the water because her friend had drowned in it—at least, that’s what everyone had said. She would scream if Reza so much as put a toe in the water fearing her daughter would suffer the same fate.

“But mother,” she had tried to explain. “Water can not kill me. You know that.”
No amount of reasoning would make her mother understand.

“Such a little thing,” Magda crooned.

“Not enough for a meal,” Hannah said forlornly.

“Perhaps the master will allow us to feed on the other if we are good.”

The two exchanged empty glances, nodded, and turned those dead hungry eyes onto Reza. They inched closer. Reza raised her left hand.

They froze, mesmerized by the dripping blood from her palm. Hannah licked her lips.

“Is this what you want you evil bitches?” Reza called to them.

Magda was the first to pounce. Teeth bared, clawing hands came at Reza faster than she could see, but she didn’t back away. She didn’t run. Her palm struck the dead girl in the face, sending her reeling.

Hannah was close on Magda’s heels and Reza almost missed when she slammed her bleeding palm into the girl’s exposed chest. She tumbled to the ground landing next to Magda. They were both marked with her blood.

“I curse you Magda,” Reza said staring into the dead thing’s eyes. She turned to the other. “I curse you Hannah. I curse you both.”

There was pity in her voice. She told herself that she was releasing these creatures from pain, sending them to their final rest as she recited the stipulations of the curse she would place upon them.

Chapter 3: Hide and Seek

2008-06-06T00:24:00.000-07:00

The vampire did not rush. He never rushed. He liked to let his prey think it had a chance. It amused him to dangle the hope of freedom in front of them only to watch their hopes crumble as that same hope was snatched away. It was all apart of the game. Without the game the hunt would be no fun at all.

Merick often wondered why mortals clung onto such silly ideals as long life. Why would anyone want to live to be old? Nothing but pain and loss of dignity awaited those that held on until the end. Their priests told them eternity and a better life awaited those who remained pure in this world, and they foolishly believed without as much as a stitch of proof. Merick was walking proof that one need not waste ones life whispering dull prayers. Eternity was just a kiss away and though there was a price—as there always is in these cases—it was not near as heavy as the dark clothed brethren claimed it to be.

Reaching out with his senses, Merick made his way through the trees. His pets had caught up with the girl. They would make a meal of her, slight though she may be. The woman wasn’t with her. His brow wrinkled in confusion and he paused long enough to listen to the sounds of the creatures of the forest. An Owl hooted. A small four footed creature, a fox perhaps, chased something smaller through the brush. Insects buzzed. All these sounds were muffled by the gurgling waters of the brook.

His eyes scanned the bank on the other side. Did the girl believe the old superstitions? If she was indeed brought up by the Rom as she said, then she wouldn’t be that stupid. The mother perhaps, but not the child. The water was too cold and too shallow. Where else was there to hide? Merick made himself still, as still as a lifeless statue and listened.

A rustling of leaves, a muffled whimper, and a frightful beating heart put a smile on his lips.

“Clever little fox,” he whispered, regretting his hasty decision to give the girl to his pets. The child had thought of this, he was sure. It would have been amusing to keep her until she was ripe for plucking. He had never kept any of his trophies in the tower longer than a fortnight, not alive.

Barely audible over the babbling waters of the brook were the sounds of an awkward body rustling damp leaves as it tried to get into a more comfortable position, trying not to breathe too loud. Trying not to be found.

But I always find them in the end, he thought. And turning his attention to a wriggling mound of leaves, he smiled.

Chapter 2: One Blessing Too Many

2008-06-05T21:15:00.000-07:00

"Mother hurry!"

The woman slipped over a patch of wet leaves, fell to her knees. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped as their pursuers drew closer. Reza frantically searched the area for an adequate hiding place. They could try hiding in the trees above, but her mother was no good at climbing. A small brook gurgled nearby. There was the old wives tale about the monsters. It was said they couldn’t cross running water. Everyone in the camp knew this was nonsense. The brook was far too shallow to hide in, the water rising just up to the knees. They would both be spotted and even if they weren't, Reza didn't think they could hold their breaths forever. There were no caves around here. There was no nearby shack or cabin. No kindhearted woodsman would happen along to come to their rescue. They were too far from camp and town for salvation.

“Lie down,” said Reza, pushing the woman to the ground. “I’ll cover you with leaves and lead them away.”

“But the monsters will get you.”

“I’m too fast for them,” she said, burying her mother in a cocoon of wet leaves. The sounds of bare feet padding over the wet ground grew louder. “You’ll see.”

“I shoulda taken better care of you,” the woman said. “I shoulda been a better mother. I shoulda been smarter like you.”

Her mother was almost fully covered by the leaves, only her face remained to be shrouded. Tears trickled down her cheeks. The woman’s forlorn expression broke Reza’s heart.

“I bless you with all the love in my heart,” she said, kissing her mother’s forehead.

The woman smiled. “I’ve always had that blessing.”

A wasted blessing, the girl thought. If only she could have saved it up for today. She covered her mother’s face. The burial complete, Reza got to her feet just as Hannah and Magda came into sight.

Their feet bounded over the cold wet ground with swift grace as Reza. She hoped they would both follow, prayed that neither would stay behind to catch her mother. Both Old Nan and Nana the Younger had said the monsters sense of hearing and smell was exceptional, as good as any four legged predator. Would they notice the other woman while they were keep on her own trail, she wondered?

Reza didn’t bother to turn to see. She sensed two sets of feet gaining on her, but nothing more. No panting or wheezing. The silent running was unnerving, but even more so was the fact that she had yet to spot the man. He could have stayed behind or he could be just ahead waiting for Hannah and Magda to lead her to him. Reza hoped for the latter rather than the former.

“You will not be the one who kills me,” she called out, smiling with satisfaction that only the undeniable truth will bring.

When she had gone a good distance from her mother’s hiding place, Reza slid to a halt under a huge beech tree. They were only a few yards away getting closer as she tried to catch her breath. She didn’t bother to hide. They had seen her and hiding was not what she had in mind. She needed to see them, needed to touch them for her plan to work. Reza bit the palm of her left hand, leaned against the tree, and waited for the two beastly women to catch up.

Chapter 1: Stranger In the Woods

2008-05-24T00:47:00.000-07:00

"Mother, we have to go back," the little girl said with a bemused smile. "We won't be able to see the path soon."

The woman was on her knees carelessly picking berries, stuffing more in her mouth than in her basket. The red juice dribbled down her pretty smiling lips and stained her teeth scarlet. Her face was wide eyed and full of childish innocence.

He didn't see this. Merick saw only what he wanted to see.

"I want to stay longer Reza!" the woman pleaded. "Please?"

"It's getting dark. Remember the last time we had to walk home in the dark?"

The woman frowned like a child on the verge of a tantrum. "We have time."

"Last time you tripped and ripped your pretty new dress," the girl said, ignoring the woman's pleas, "the one Nana made for you. Remember?"

The woman's face screwed up in intense concentration. A blue dress with pink flowers, he thought as he plucked the memory from the woman's head. It was then, touching her mind with his own, that he realized the woman was simple. She thought of the pain from the ankle she twisted and he felt this too. She had screamed and screamed when the bone was set.

The woman nodded reluctantly. The girl Reza sighed. She did not like being the caretaker. She wanted to be the one to whine and throw tantrums. She wanted to stay and pick the berries, but she couldn't. Reza had to be the sensible one because her mother could not. Old Nan had told her it would be this way.

And there were bad things lurking within the forest. Animals didn't frighten her. Even a wolf can be avoided as long as you were careful. But there were other things, evil frightful things, worse than wild animals.

And of course, there was the dream. Best to leave before they were swallowed by darkness.

He watched the younger one pick up the basket. The girl's eyes were strange, like liquid silver. They were sharp and watchful, keeping a wary eye out. The two were dressed like Romani, though they didn't appear familiar. He knew most of the Gypsies in this area. Had to keep track of the vermin because there was the deal to think about.

The woman climbed to her feet and wiped her sticky hands on her calico skirts. He watched the girl take her hand and lead her through the brambles bushes, humming a song as they found their way back to the path that would lead them to their camp. The woman gazed at her surroundings with curious wonderment, as if seeing everything for the first time. The way she swung her arms, the awkward gait, the way the child led the woman keeping her from straying from the path-all of this verified his previous opinion that the woman had the mind of a child. Such a beauty wasted, he thought and smiled wondering just how keen her kin were to keep her. The Rom were protective of their own, but even they had to see the foolishness of dragging dead weight.

He stared at the luscious curves of her body and knew that he wanted her. But she was Romani and there was still the deal though it grated. Watching the beautiful idiot loping through the trees, he wanted her all the more because he knew he couldn't have her. There would be repercussions if he dared to take her.

Reza hummed along with her mother, trying not to think of the dream. It was a true dream, the Nans had said as much. Only the little one knew for sure that it would happen, but she could not say how or when or why. Reza took to clinging to her mother because of this, never taking her eyes off of her not for a second. Old Nan said she was wasting her time. The dream would reach fruition no matter what precautions Reza took, but Reza was stubborn. She only wished she hadn't wasted her mother's blessing.

His pets were nearby. Merick could sense them prowling around the woods. He had brought them with him to hunt the beasts of the forest so that they might all feed together. They would find a wild boar or a stag and rip the animal apart with their teeth. They would swallow the warm blood and be satiated for the night. Sometimes, he would find a careless traveler and allow his pets to hunt the fool as he fought for his life. It was so much more amusing than killing forest animals. But never Romani. Because of the deal.

Merick wondered what kind of pet a halfwit gypsy would make.

The woman did her best to dawdle as the child fought a losing battle, trying to get her to hurry along. The woman would point and chat about what she saw telling fanciful stories that she half believed. Reza would sigh, but she loved to hear these tales. She listened even thought the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end and there was the eerie feeling of being watched. Every now and again she would glance behind her shoulder expecting to see...what? A creature lurking in the shadows? She squeezed her mother's hand and tried again to hurry the woman along.

Did she sense him, Merick wondered? Did she sense his pets? The girl sensed danger to be sure, but did she know he was the shadow following her around? The girl was sharp, sharper than most her age. She wouldn't be beautiful like her mother but she would probably be passable in a few years time.

Merick had never made a child a pet.

The darkness always fell early in the forest. Trees in the distance were becoming shadows. Reza knew her way blind but the path was rough. The best pickings were always deep within the woods. She could have made it to camp in half the time on her own but her mother would not be hurried. Wicked, resentful thoughts creeped inside her head. It would be so much easier if she had not towed the woman along. It was an old thought. Like an old weed, it was impossible to kill completely, but she fought to cut it out of her mind. Reza loved her mother more than anything.

Merick decided if he could not have them, the least they could do was provide him with some amusement. He closed his eyes and called upon the moisture in the air to rise. It hovered and swirled at his feet. The gossamer threads of mist spiraled away from his body throughout the wooded area, engulfing everything in its path. It swallowed his prey, making the path invisible to them.

A chill went through Reza's spine as the fog fell upon them. The woman whimpered. She huddled fearfully against Reza.

"I can't see the path, Reza," the woman cried.

Reza nodded, held tight to the woman's hand, and tried to keep her calm, to keep her silent. She had told Old Nan about the dream first. Old Nan had inherited her title when her last moon's blood had come and gone. She had the sight-all the Nans did-but Old Nan could only see the past. She shared the dream with her daughter Nan the Younger and her granddaughter, Little Nan. It was Little Nan the others turned to when discussing whether or not the dream was a true dream or just a dream. The youngest Nan always knew what was to come. It was always the youngest who knew who would be the next to receive the curse of Talia, though Little Nan had only been a suckling babe when it fell to Reza. She interpreted the dream for Reza, but Reza refused to believe.

He followed them at a closer distance. He could see them through the fog, his eyesight superior to their own mortal eyes and so was his hearing. Even now he could hear the woman's heart beating faster the thicker the fog became, could hear the blood quicken within her veins. The child was outwardly calm but he could smell the stink of fear on her as well. Her eyes searched, trying to pierce through the fog. Her ears strained to hear the slightest twig snap. She reminded him of a wary fox.

"Hush," she whispered to the woman who was panting in fright. "I'm trying to listen."

"I wanna go home, Reza," the woman whined.

Her mother's lips had been stained red in the dream as they were now. Juices flowed from between her lips, but she hadn't been eating berries in the dream. Her mother had smiled in her dream, but her smile was not her own.

Merick debated over what to do with them next. The woman's beating heart called to him, but he knew he could not feed from them or harm them in any way. He could frighten them. As long as he kept to the terms of the deal, the Romani could do nothing to him. He would scare the witless woman and the silver eyed child and send them off to their camp with a tale to tell. The gypsies would know these were still his woods, deal or no deal. He called for his pets.

A twig snapped. Reza looked up, searching for the sound.

His pets approached him rubbing up against him silently. The were mute around him. He preferred their silence. Like him, they had not fed yet. They sensed the beating hearts nearby, hungered for the warm blood but waited for his command.

Another twig snapped and a rustling of leaves. Reza's head jerked up toward the sound. Shadows moved. I know the way blind, she told herself. I'll get us home. Not all dreams come true.

Her mother's smile had not been her own in the dream and there were strings attached to her limbs like a Marionette. In the dream there was a man who wasn't a man. He had the face of a man but it was only a mask he wore and the mask hid the face of a vicious beast. The man held the strings attached to her mother and made the woman do repulsive tricks.

But you won't be the one who kills me, she thought, and you won't take my mother away from me.

Reza tried to hurry along, but her mother tripped over the roots and fallen branches. Her whimpering made it hard to hear their surroundings. Something was following them she was sure, but she couldn't make out anything in this fog. She was relying on instinct to get them home.

"We're lost, Reza, we're lost!" the woman cried.

"We're not lost. I know the way, but you must be as quiet as a mouse. I need to listen."

"What for? Are there monsters?"

The girl did not answer.

Merick pushed his pets away and returned to his pursuit. They followed at a safe distance, hungering for the blood yet spilt, hungering for his attentions. Hungering. Always hungering. He hungered for the woman, knew he couldn't have her. The more he told himself this, the more he hungered for her. His desire was becoming too great to retain. He would have to end this chase soon. Give them a scare and let them go so that he might feast on some other animal. The wind whipped through his hair and his fangs protracted from his lips. It would be hard to hold back, he thought, padding his way closer to the two shivering mortals.

"Mother be quiet."

"I'm so scared," the woman panted.

"I know, but you must be quiet."

In the dream the man made her mother do tricks and it boiled Reza's blood to think of it. He made her do things even the whores of the city wouldn't do no matter how much money you threw at them. She had told herself it was just a dream but it had worried her worse than the number dream, her death dream. If the Nans were right, no blessing would prevent it.

The man drew closer by yards then by feet. He could hear the girl's fear in her heartbeat, but her countenance was still and calm as ever. What he wouldn't give to see the little bitch whine like the halfwit woman. It was disconcerting to see her moving through the forest so sure of herself, in spite of her fear. The woman stumbled, fell to her knees, and the child let out a cry.

Finally, a little fear, he thought, and laughed as the girl struggled to help the woman up. The child paused. She stared in his direction.

"I hear you," she called out through the fog. "Show yourself!"

The girl was brave as well as clever. He wondered if she would keep these attributes even in death, but it was only a passing thought. Merick had never made a child a pet, never tried to turn one. There were limits to what even he would do. Oh he had never hesitated to kill a child foolish enough to stray away from the safety of its home. A quick meal was one thing. A child could be made to look like a mauling victim and the surrounding villagers would think nothing of it. This they would accept even if they suspected his hand in the death. But to turn a child would bring even the most docile mortals wrath upon him. Children were sacred to them for some reason.

And this brat was a gypsy, her and her mother both. Oh how it grated to have to let them go.

Reza peered out into the fog. There was a parting of the mist and a shadow slid through the vapor to reveal the form of a man. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the dream, cursed herself for taking her mother into the forest.

He was as beautiful in life as in dream. He was dressed like a gentleman in garb finer than anything she had ever seen but the material was old. The lace of his collar that might have once been pure white was yellowing at the edges and the cloak that whipped in the wind was showing signs of wear in places. His eyes flicked from Reza to her mother where they lingered, drinking the woman in. Reza did not like the way the man smiled.

This is your mask, she thought. This is the beauty that hides the beast within.

As if hearing her thoughts, the man's smile grew wider, revealing his protruding canines.

"I mean you no harm," he said in a soothing voice. "Do not be afraid."

The girl was full of suspicious dread, eyeing him up and down as if waiting for him to strike out, but the woman gave him a relieved smile.

"Sir, we are lost," she said ignoring the girl's mumbled chastisement. "Can you help us find our way to our camp?"

"You are gypsies?"

"Yes," the girl said quickly. "We're Romani and we don't need your help. I know the way of the woods. I know a lot of things."

The same words out of the mouth of any other child would have sounded precocious. But the way the girl stuck her chin out with stubborn defiance, the way she stressed that last utterance. I know a lot of things, she had said with a firmness that made him wonder just how much she did know about his kind.

The man gave her a sharp, cold stare, but Reza refused to be the first to back down. She would not look away.

"But that's not true," the woman shouted. "We're not really gypsies."

The girl gave the woman a pained look and tried to hush her before she said anything else, but the woman would not be silenced.

"Are you not?" The smile returned to his face.

"I was born in the village of Bod," she said and added with a frown, "but I was a Jew and I was simple and careless and no one in the village would have me afterword."

The girl tightened her hold on her mother's hand.

"My father was Rom, remember mother?" She turned to the man, her eyes hard and unyielding. "I am Rom and my mother is Rom by marriage. It still counts."

The man turned to her mother. "Is this true?"

The woman shuffled her feet and looked away. His smile became more hopeful. "You mustn't lie to me. God sends little girls who lie straight to hell."

The girl turned to her mother who looked even more fretful than before. "Don't believe him mother. He's just trying to scare us."

"You have to tell the truth, Reza," the woman cried. "I don't want you to burn in hell."

"So it is not true?"

Reza gave him a vicious glare. "My father was Rom! That was not a lie."

"But we never married," the woman said hurriedly, still fearing for her daughter's immortal soul. "He only took me 'cause my uncle gave him money and said to take me away and the others of the camp said I was marime', unclean and I was an embarrassment to him 'cause I'm simple."

The woman was crying now. Her child begged her to hush.

Reza's head was spinning. She was torn between wanting to comfort her mother and wanting to slap her silent. She could have slapped her father too, because she knew he really was her father. The curse came through his line. It was undeniable. If he had only married her this monster would leave them be. He would not risk the wrath of her people.

His smile widened and he edged closer.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," he said as a rustle of bushes betrayed his pets movements. "If you allow me to accompany you-"

"No!" the girl shouted. "I am gypsy. This woman is my mother. She is under the protection of my camp."

The smile remained but the look in his eyes chilled her to her soul.

"One so young should not be so rude to ones elders."

"One so old should not be so stupid to mess with the Rom."

The man stared at her for what felt like ages before giving her a mirthless laugh that revealed every inch of fang. There was more rustling from behind him and he was joined by two women dressed in thread bare peasant's garb. Women from the village? she wondered. No, she sighed. Not anymore. The two did not join the man in his hollow laughter, just stare at her and her mother with hungry eyes.

Her mother grabbed her shoulder, eyeing the two women with renewed fear.

"Hannah?"

Her voice was shaky. The woman that once was Hannah did not answer.

"They said you drowned," the woman whispered.

"It will be alright." Reza tried to hush her mother, told her to keep still, but the woman would not obey.

"But they said she drowned."

Her mother was sobbing now.

"He can't make us one of them. He can't," she said turning back to him and holding on to her mother as if she were saving the woman from drowning as well. "We're still Rom. You know what that means."

His pets circled around them, not daring to pounce, but readying themselves for the feast to come.

"I know you are half Rom, perhaps not even that," he said inching closer, "and she is only a Jew. A halfwit Jew and her bastard child. Who would miss the likes of you?"

The brat's eyes were wide with fear now. There were times when he could pluck a thought or an image from the mind of a victim, when there was enough fear or lust to let a thought slip away. The woman's mind was a whirling mess of fear, to scattered to make out. The girl wanted a knife. She ached for something sharp, which was odd. Surely if she were Romani they would have told her no knife could ever harm him. The girl had to have lied about her heritage.

"Mother," she said putting body between the man and her mother.

The thoughts he plucked from the girl was a confusing mix of numbers and dancing dolls and smoke and ash. She was afraid, but she was not afraid for herself. Only for the halfwit Jew she was shielding.

There was something in her hand.

"Run!" the girl shouted.

She threw a handfull of dirt in his eyes and yanked her mother's arm as hard as she could, dragging her away from the man and his two mindless beasts. She didn't look back, but she knew they wouldn't far. Nana had told her about the fanged dead things. They were quicker than the fastest mortal.

Merick hissed as the two ran away, wiped the dirt from his eyes. His pets surrounded him petted him, tried to comfort him. He pushed the foolish cows away.

"Get that damn girl," he commanded them. The two coward from him. "Get the girl, rip her damn heart out, but leave the woman for me."

They scurried after their prey.