Page 43 of Heir to a Curse

“Yeah,” she said softly. “We need to break the curse.”

“Okay,” I agreed, no idea where we’d start. “I’m not even sure what the exact curse is. No one can tell me. Doesn’t seem to be written down anywhere. It’s like the family tried to erase it from their history.”

“Or perhaps erase him,” Addy pointed out.

Funny how fast she saw things, while I fumbled. “How?”

“Exiled? Removed from anything that could give him power. The last bits left of him are a broken hair piece and the name on a wall in a foreign country? Carl’s a history freak. I’ve watched enough with him to know that’s how lots of cultures erase those they don’t want remembered.”

“But will acknowledging him help anything? Bring it all to light?”

She shrugged. “If he’s a ghost, who knows. I was browsing through the online pictures of Sofia’s family collection,” Addy said. “I think the rest of this is in that collection. Maybe you can start by finding out more about it.”

I stared at the little statue. “It’s part of a hair piece. Aguan. Men wore them…” The name of them suddenly coming back to me. “Part of their title and adulthood were represented in those.” Which meant as the Mandate, his would have been extraordinary.

She nodded. “It’s been pretty damaged over the years. Stripped of all the gems, but part of it is in the collection.” She lifted her phone and a second later my phone pinged. “I sent you the link. It doesn’t say who it belonged to. Maybe it will help?”

“Thanks,” I told her as I opened the door for her. Night had fallen again. Fuck, I really had lost a whole day.

“Get some rest. No one expects you to be superman. We are all mourning Sofia. Everyone understands that this job might take a little longer. The world is in chaos. It’s okay to slow down a little.”

“I’m reminded again of why I love you,” I said.

She waved. “I am perfect, now go rest.”

“Perfect,” I laughed. “Let me tell Carl you said that.”

She snorted. “He knows. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I agreed and watched her head off toward the house. Someone had installed the lights along the path. One of the guys probably, though I was surprised they had time. Maybe they had delayed installing the cabinets since I wasn’t there, which would have been odd because they had enough hands and skill to do it. I was tempted to check, but it was late.

The lights swayed slightly in the breeze as they were made to look more like fairy lights than boring garden lamps. The rainbow of colors had appealed to me for some reason. Normally I went with practical, boring, and simple. But nothing about this change had been any of that. Not my choices for the cabin or even the decision to stay. I could have let the house continue as it was. Done the repairs and left it to run off the trust. Instead I decided to make it a home. My first real home, somewhere I set in roots.

That felt right.

Even the space around the cabin I could picture as something more. A small garden of herbs, perhaps, an oasis of flowers perfect for tea, and a nice spot for me to work on the wood working hobby I’d begun in a high school shop class. There was plenty of space and endless ideas. Things that normally didn’t occur to me, as homes were something I built for other people. Until now.

I stepped inside and closed the door, searching the dark in hopes that he’d be back. He wasn’t. But I didn’t feel that ache of loneliness I’d come to equate as my lot in life. Retrieving my phone, I took it to bed with me. Curling around it and opening the link Addy had sent.

It was the hairpiece, horribly stripped, and almost unrecognizable, yet I could tell it was right. I couldn’t imagine ever being able to restore it. The lost gems, the years of wear and tear, it was hopeless. I clutched the little statue in my fingers, rolled over and let myself cry. After Sofia’s death, I felt like I had been doing a lot of crying, yet not enough. This was an ugly cry, welling up from my gut, and swelling my eyes.

I longed for him. I wished Sofia was back to tease me about finding true love, and offer kind words. I wanted the pandemic to be over so I could hug my friends again, and most of all I wanted answers that actually brought peace.

As sleep tugged me back down, a slow roll down a long dark edge of where dreams began, I felt him. For a few seconds it almost startled me awake, something changing in the room, a pressure perhaps. Maybe he was a ghost. I didn’t know much about ghosts. But when his arms wrapped around me, settling a gentle hug to warm me, I knew that couldn’t be right. Ghosts didn’t give warm embraces. They didn’t feel so real.

If I hadn’t been so beaten down by the migraine I’d have woken, taken hold of him and begged for answers. Instead all I could muster was a single question, “What is your name?”

“Jun Xiang,” I heard whispered back, my mind grasping at the pronunciation. June She-yang. Shang. My mind repeated it over and over in my subconscious, and I felt the sound form on my lips a time or two. “Sleep,” he whispered.

His hair tickled my face, as though he’d leaned over, his lips brushed mine in the barest of kisses. I sighed, feeling the last arch of pain vanish as sleep swallowed me back down.