Page 22 of Heir to a Curse
I wrapped my arms around him, trying to drag him toward the bridge. “We have to get away.”
“It will destroy everything!”
“It’s just stuff. We can rebuild,” I said, turning his face with one hand so I could see him. How beautiful he was in that flickering light of power and pale moonlight. “I’d rather you be safe.”
“You can’t choose me over everyone else.” He shoved at me, trying to create more talisman, but he was barely on his feet, hurt, bleeding maybe, though it didn’t seem to be blood staining his clothes.
I wasn’t about to let him go. “No. They are all dead and gone. You’re still here. At least let me help. Tell me what to do.”
He shook his head. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Then use me,” I said without really thinking about it. I offered a hand, wondering if he needed my blood to write his talisman since he was already so injured. “Take what you need, but I’m not letting you go.” I kept my arm around him, holding him up and against me, despite his struggles, and obviously weakening strength.
He gasped, stopping for a moment to let himself rest against me, his weight in my arms, and face inches from mine. I had a thousand fragmented thoughts then about viruses and social distance safety that we were breaking, but with a monster ranging in my dreams, it didn’t seem to matter. He touched my face with one of those delicate hands, and I realized he was my musician, the one with the beautiful hands and angelically sad tunes. His eyes met mine, his dancing with the light of the magic fire as I stared into them.
He kissed me. Only the barest touch of our lips, the soft caress of his against mine, and with it I felt a bit like I’d been sucker punched, both with a need to deepen the kiss, and a pull from something deep inside me. Power? Life? I wasn’t sure. But he broke the kiss, his face glowing with white sparkles as he drew more talisman and let them fly.
This time they landed hard, slapping the creature with a sizzling pop. A dozen more shrieks and it began to shrink, caving in on itself. The shrine still burned where it had touched, but less now as the creature began to fade. The man slumped against me, tired, but still flickering with sparkles.
I helped him to the edge of the bridge where a small bench had been built into the side, and set him on the seat. “I have to put out the flames,” I told him, reaching for the bucket beside the bench. “Rest here.” I don’t know what possessed me to take his face in my hands and press my lips to his again. I didn’t know him at all, and had never been the aggressor in any of my past relationships, but I needed to touch him, do something to calm that flashing power.
Our lips met again, soft, sweet, and making me near breathless as whatever he’d borrowed rushed back to me, walloping me with tingling warmth. His sparkles began to fade, and I raced to the edge of the bench to fill the bucket and put out the flames.
The creature snapped at me, fading, but still moving, limb reaching out, but another paper landed before it could touch me. I hit the first section of fire with a heavy bucket of water, and heard it sizzle before racing back for another. A dozen times I returned, dousing everything in the slimy lake water, probably making a mess of the girl’s fine work, but sending the fire into nothing more than smoke wafting away, and the creature gone, shriveled like some sort of snail hit with salt.
The door gaped open, broken, lying half on one side, the inside of the shrine seeming unhurt, not even touched by the stain of soot. Several talismans lay on the ground, slowly fading into the breeze as though they were made from sand rather than paper. I paused to turn back to the man, check to see if he was all right. He was hunched over, hand to his midsection, but staring at me in confusion. I rushed to his side and put my arms around him.
His midsection seemed blackened, burned, the fabric of his robes caked with some sort of ooze.
“Should I call a doctor? What am I saying?” I looked around. “This is madness. A dream. Has to be a dream. But you’re hurt.” I pulled him into my arms, taking his weight, and careful not to touch the wounded part of him. Was he bleeding? It was hard to tell in the dark. “It would be really great if I could wake up now,” I added, not really sure anymore if I was even sleeping. It all felt too real, the wind on my skin, the chill evening air, the scent of woods, dirt, and fire, and the feel of him in my arms.
The memory of his lips on mine.
“Let me get you to the cabin,” I told him. “My phone is there. I can call for help.” What the fuck was I saying? Call who? Monsters R Us? Still, I helped him to his feet and hobbled us both toward the cabin. Dreams usually ended before all this, right? They didn’t often have resolutions, defeating the enemy and saving someone. They shifted and turned like impossible to grasp smoke, only this one didn’t.
We got to the door of the cabin and I lead him inside, taking him to the bed and helping him sit. He pulled me down beside him, his breathing labored, face a grimace of pain. I touched his cheek again, as though I could soothe that agony. Where was my phone? I looked around the room and saw it sitting on the table beside the chaise. I made to get up and get it, but he gripped my hand.
“Stay please,” he whispered.
“Of course,” I promised. “But we need to get you help. Call an ambulance or something.” In the light of the cabin I could see some of the damage now, burns, a thousand thin cuts wrapping around his midsection in broken lines. Like whatever had snagged him had been the vine of a searing, long-thorned rose bush rather than a tentacle. And blood, there was so much blood. “Oh my God, we have to get you help.”
“I just need rest. Promise,” he whispered, holding my hand tight. “Please stay.”
I nodded, feeling crazed with the need to do something, but also unwilling to leave him for even a second. “Lie down,” I said, motioning to the bed, which was little more than a nest on top of the sleeping bags placed over the new mattress. “It’s not much, but please.”
He nodded and crawled into the nest, slowly, some movements causing small pained noises to escape from his lips. I silently vowed to call for help the second I got him horizontal. But he tugged me into the nest beside him, fingers caressing my face as though he saw something there he wanted to trace.
“I should get you help,” I said, suddenly very tired.
“Stay, you said you would. We both need rest.”
I blinked at him, trying to stay focused on his face, even as my head hit the pillow and the dream seemed to take hold of me again, ripping me down into darkness that quickly.