Page 23 of Heir to a Curse

Chapter 9

Iawoke feeling sore and groggy. For a few seconds I lay there, basking in the feeling of someone in my arms, only that sensation vanished into a pale memory. When I opened my eyes, it was to the cabin and the bed empty other than me. Thoughts of the dream walloped me with sensation, and I wondered at it, as normally I didn’t remember most of them. And this dream had been so vivid. Sounds, sensations, even the taste of his lips on mine, lingered.

Had I eaten something odd yesterday? What other explanation could there be for the dream?

As I rolled over and observed the room, nothing appeared out of place. There was no ancient Chinese instrument near the dining table, the tea set sat unused, and I was alone, light in the room little more than sun shining in from the windows. I needed curtains. Where was my phone?

There it was, on the table beside the chaise. I dragged myself out of bed, sore in places a normal work day didn’t usually make sore, and my back aching, like I’d really taken that fall down the shrine stairs. I stalked across the room to add the curtains to my phone, then made my way to the bathroom to get started for the day.

It wasn’t until I was in the shower and dirt washed away from my feet in pronounced rivets, that a sinking unease settled into my gut. It had been a dream, right? Monsters weren’t real. Beautiful Chinese men didn’t randomly appear to save unwitting construction contractors from said monsters. My heart thumped loudly in my chest, full of emotion.

I hurried through my clean up and dressing, made my way back to the bed, expecting a sign of him somewhere. But there was nothing. No stains of blood or soot on the sleeping bag or any lingering indent in the bed.

It had to have been a dream. Maybe I’d been up sleepwalking during it. Sure I’d never done it before that I knew of, but old age and grief did funny things to people, didn’t it?

When I stepped out into the light of the early morning, intent on heading to breakfast, I expected the shrine to be untouched as usual. My heart flip-flopped over in my chest as my gaze found the building and its undeniable damage. I took several slow steps forward, unable to believe what I was seeing, before running across the bridge. It looked like it had been hit by lightning and an earthquake all at once. Scorched in some spots, cracked in others, the door still lay on its side, broken not only off the track, but in pieces.

Inside the shrine was still mostly untouched. The fountain flowed, the walls still clean, though up near the roof was a touch of smoke staining. My mind reeled. Memories of last night filled with the monster and the young man fighting it with magic talismans. It was something out of a foreign drama. Not real. Couldn’t have been real.

There were no signs of the talismans anywhere, but they had vanished last night, fading as their power burned away. The memory of him in my arms, his bloodied waist and soft kiss, made me gasp, as it was so strong. Not the weird disjointed images of a dream, but a real memory.

It had to have been a dream. Perhaps my subconscious mind trying to explain the noise this must have caused? Yet I had seen this door broken. Part of my sleepwalk? None of this made sense. This wasn’t some random fantasy novel, I was a simple, general contractor, not some kid to be led through a doorway into another world.

Was I still asleep? My back hurt enough to tell me otherwise, and my stomach grumbled with the need for food. The bright overhead sun made me squint and warmed my skin. If this was sleep, I was having really intense dreams of late.

I went to the wall where the woman had knelt. She’d been reaching for a name. Midway up in the list, down Sofia’s line, was a long list of symbols separated by small spaces. Names. Likely children in one particular line. This line had at least a half dozen all in a row, several with their own branches extending forward. One completely stopping.

I traced that last one with my fingers, feeling the shape of it, wondering if perhaps they had passed too young to continue the line. It wasn’t so far back in Sofia’s line to be called ancient history, but several generations. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and took a picture of the section and a close up of the name, hoping to have time to look it up later.

Staring at it a while longer, I realized I needed coffee, and now supplies to fix the shrine. How would I explain that? I sucked in a deep breath and headed toward the main house, a thousand thoughts in my brain. None of them making sense, though a lingering sadness sat in my gut. Always Sofia’s loss, but something else too.

Disappointment? That I’d woken alone. The man had been gone, his music, his delicate hands, his touch, and his lips on mine. Those few seconds had been a breath of peace, like all was finally right with the world, despite the insanity of the times.

The dream a wild memory, yet real world things I needed an explanation for. When I found my way to the main house and the dining room, the set up was smaller, but Mike and Jerry were already there. I debated for several seconds before striding across the room to them.

“Boss,” Jerry said.

“Can you guys come look at something for me? Sorry to interrupt breakfast.” I just had to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Maybe it would be like the fountain when I’d seen it working before it had been fixed. Perhaps my head was broken from the grief. If so, I’d seek out a therapist and see if talking it out could fix it. I didn’t think making up fantasy men was really a healthy mindset, at least not for a man my age.

“Sure,” Mike said, setting his plate down. Jerry did the same.

The three of us stalked back toward the shrine, and I half expected it to be untouched now, only from a distance as we rounded the maze to the longer path, I could see the damage.

Jerry whistled.

“What the fuck?” Mike asked.

My sentiments exactly. At least they saw it too. What did that mean? Not a dream? The man had been real? The monster real? What was I thinking? That was insane.

“Was there a storm or something?” Jerry asked. He pulled out his phone as though to check.

“Did you hear something?” Mike asked me.

“Well…” How did I answer that without sounding totally insane? “I guess? I mean I don’t know. I had a sort of weird dream.” Terrifying actually. The woman who had morphed into something monstrous, like a jellyfish or giant spider, with her gaping human face still gnawed at my gut with worry. Not gone, I thought, as the man’s talismans had been weak. But retreated. Perhaps that thing, whatever it had been, was what had been causing the damage to the house over the years? Was it the curse? Some sort of physical manifestation of it?

Wow. Was I crazy today or what?

We got to the shrine and the guys went over it just as I had. “Structure is still sound, but it will need a lot of patching. New door. Some paint,” Mike said. “Plumbing is still good. Looks like something caught fire.”