Page 36 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

Where Indy Faces Many Paths

Statuettes, once beautifully carved, laid broken across the floor.

A trail of blood led from the door to my fingers, where the dried flakes caught beneath my nails.

I laid among the wreckage, breathing labored.

The last memory I had was that of Mr. Hawthorne, my nails elongating to claws to slash his face.

He wasn’t in the room, and I hoped that was a good sign.

But I wasn’t in the room I should have been, and the blood was certainly his.

Careful not to step on the broken woodwork, I maneuvered to the door. My gaze focused on the doorknob, otherwise the dried blood on the floor would make me sick. The door remained locked.

If Mr. Hawthorne was horribly injured, he may be in bed, Otis at his side, the both of them wondering what to do next.

If I truly hurt any of them, then was I worth helping?

Not only had I made a poor decision for my family, but that decision led to violence against the very people who sought to help me .

Why was I here? Why did I say no?

“Miss Moore, are you awake?”

“Mr. Hawthorne.” I sighed, trembling hands caught against my chest. My voice hardly came out, and I had to repeat myself. “Are you… Did I hurt you terribly?”

“Not at all. I am handing in some clothes.”

The doorknob twisted. I accepted the offered dress to swiftly change. When I threw open the door, he waited on the other side, an utter liar. His left arm bore a sling, and a bandage ran from his neck to his cheek. He raised a hand before I could conjure an apology.

“Otis has seen to the injuries. They will be fully healed in a day or two. The sling is merely to ensure nothing reopens, although if there are any scars, I will be most upset. This,” he pointed to his face, “is irreplaceable.”

His joking mood didn’t lighten mine.

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to look away from his injuries. The ones I caused.

“Don’t be. I have had far worse come after me with far scarier instruments of death. I could go into great detail if you need a confidence boost.”

“I don’t think I want to hear of them.”

“Are you sure? One involves a fork and a place it should never go.”

Admittedly, that brought a moment of hesitation and morbid curiosity.

However, I did not give in to Mr. Hawthorne’s attempts, seeing as my self-loathing was at an all-time high.

Our situation grew dire, more swiftly than expected.

My change came too early. The sun had yet to set yesterday when I lost control.

I hurt him, and if he didn’t lock me up in time, I could have hurt or even killed everyone in Ivory House.

“The curse is accelerating. Is there even enough time to discover a cure? What if I change in the middle of the day? What if I hurt someone again? I am becoming a monster,” I said between gasped breaths. My lungs ached, for it had grown unbelievably hard to breathe .

“I agree, I thought we would have more time.” Mr. Hawthorne turned his back to me. “But the expert I told you about has agreed to help. She will be here soon, actually.”

Hope dared to spark within me.

“Put on that new tiara of yours,” he added.

“What? Absolutely not. Besides, I can’t. It’s outside and probably broken.”

“As if I would waste my money on anything so poorly made. The box is in your room. Now, go on. Professor Kumir will love it.”

I gave him a slow, cautious once over. “Is this a trick?”

He pursed his lips. “Why would I do that?”

“Entertainment.”

“I am not so petty.”

“You are.”

He smiled. “I am, but not today. Clean up, and meet me at the summoning circle in ten minutes.”

He wandered off while I went to my room, where, as promised, the box sat unharmed.

The tiara sat snug inside. I ran my fingers over it, flinching upon seeing Mr. Hawthorne’s blood on my hands.

I ran to the bathroom across the hall to wash myself clean.

My hands shook, and I dared to look in the mirror.

A frightened girl stared back at me, her hair a mess and dark bags under her eyes.

“When will you learn?” Carline whispered. She appeared like a mirage, flickering into my vision directly at my back. Her hand fell on my shoulder. Though she wasn’t there, her presence had indescribable weight. Not in the physical sense, but in a mental load that tore at the fabric of my mind.

“Fighting is futile,” she said, while combing her fingers through my hair. “You’re hurting yourself by doing this.”

“You’re hurting me,” I countered through clenched teeth. “You’re threatening the lives of everyone around me.”

“I’m helping you,” she argued, sounding so sincere. “Let me help you, Indy.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“What did I say about want and need?”

I gripped the edge of the sink so fiercely my knuckles ached. “You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. However you understand me, it’s a warped version; it’s what you want to see, nothing more. You’re not my family. You never will be.”

“But I could be,” she urged, both hands on my shoulders now. “I will give you everything, and you will be happy among others like yourself.”

“Like me how?”

She smiled.

The water drained from the sink, washing away any remnants of red. Then I splashed the water across my cheeks. “All you do is lie. Go away. I’m done with you.”

I turned away and slammed the door shut, even if nothing could keep us apart. Carline had me in her clutches, but I would do anything necessary to avoid her. If I let her get to me, this would end horribly, and everything would be for naught.

After getting dressed, I went to leave, halting at the glint in the corner of my eye. The tiara sat on my bed, where the light reflected off the gems. The window opened on its own, and a wind brought in petals from the garden. Ivy let me know what it thought about wearing the tiara.

“Fine,” I said, stomping over to plop the tiara on my head. “Happy?”

Ivory House groaned as if to say yes. It was ridiculous, but I kept the tiara on and went to the summoning circle, where Otis and Mr. Hawthorne waited. The former of which tilted his head upon seeing the tiara, but made no comment.

“Where’s Miss Beamy?” I asked.

“She is taking a nap. I didn’t want to disturb her,” Mr. Hawthorne replied.

He cleaned himself up, using a cloak that draped over his shoulders to obscure his sling. Hiding his injuries did nothing to comfort me. Every moment, I fell further into despair, wondering if I would ever take a breath again that wasn’t pained.

Otis settled a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I know you must be stressed, especially after last night, but we will figure this out. The tiara is lovely, by the way.”

“Thank you. I shouldn’t have worn it, but Ivy insisted.” I went to take it off .

Mr. Hawthorne clicked his tongue. “Keep it on. Ivy has good taste. I made her myself, after all.” Grabbing the pocket watch from his pants, he checked the time. “Any minute now.”

The summoning circle glowed. Those silvery tendrils from the transit hall danced among the runes.

Between them, a silhouette formed in a rainbow shade.

Behind it, more silhouettes fluttered in and out of existence.

Then the tendrils dispersed, and a woman stood at the epicenter, short and full, her eyes sharper than a blade and focused on me.

Towers of books appeared at her back, precariously stacked, ready to topple from a light breeze.

She wore a robe brightly colored in sunrise tones, her long brown hair tied into a knot atop her head.

Her tawny brown skin had a shimmer to it, as if dusted by sunlight itself.

Curling her full lips, she asked, “Are you having a dress-up party?”

Mr. Hawthorne snorted. “No, Miss Moore is just very enthusiastic about her tiaras.”

I knew he was playing a trick, but I resisted the urge to kick his shin, seeing as I had done enough damage to him already. That damage didn’t go unnoticed. The professor gave his injuries a swift once over before turning her attention to me.

“I’m Indy Moore. It’s nice to meet you,” I said while removing the tiara, even if the damage had been done.

“A pleasure, although it would have been nice to meet under better circumstances,” she said then gave Mr. Hawthorne a disgruntled look.

“What mess did you get yourself into? I hope it wasn’t because of one of your many romantic ventures.

” The expert walked slowly, using a cane with a decorative sphere tip.

“While I won’t deny that I have had my fair share of curious encounters, these were no fault of a scornful partner of any kind.” Mr. Hawthorne nodded toward me. “I fear Miss Moore’s curse is advancing faster than we hoped.”

I flinched and stopped myself from squeezing the tiara. At this rate, I would break it.

“Which is why we are so appreciative of you accepting to help, though you didn’t have to come here, Professor Kumir. We could have come to you. I know you dislike leaving the manor, and your library is far larger than mine,” he said with a low bow. Otis did the same, so I mirrored them.

While about half Mr. Hawthorne’s size, Professor Kumir didn’t hesitate to snatch his cheek. He released a high-pitched squeaking sound when she tugged until he was almost eye level with her. “Need I remind you what happened the last time you visited my manor?”

Otis stepped forward with his hat pressed to his chest. “Professor, I have apologized for that. He was seventeen.”

“A reason for his actions, not an excuse,” she snapped, then jabbed a finger against his chest. “What do you really want, boy?”

She spoke that more of an accusation than anything else.

There were questions in her eyes, directed toward Mr. Hawthorne, that only worsened from his pleading smile.

She acted as if he was up to no good, looked at him like she expected him to spin a lie.

She waited with her thick fingers perched on the top of her cane.