Page 39 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

Where Indy Regrets Gardening

By the third day, we remained without answers, and I had yet to tell my family about the dwindling timeframe.

The tail returned for hours at a time. I spent my days in the library, the garden, and a full day in the kitchen cooking.

Miss Beamy was an excellent and enthusiastic taste tester until she passed out from overconsumption.

Slate was less interested in eating and more interested in stealing my ingredients.

Sitting still had never been my strong suit.

Waiting around doing nothing was far worse than Carline’s abrupt appearances, which were scattered throughout my days.

At times, she spoke to me, usually in a soothing manner, continuing to try to convince me to return to her.

I wouldn’t deny the temptation, how I struggled to find anything to keep me preoccupied; otherwise, I might give in.

The letter that dropped into my lap didn’t help.

I took to the gardens that morning, tending to the flowers in Otis’s stead.

He wasn’t giving them the same attention since he focused on my curse.

The least I could do was ensure his beloved flowers retained their shine, although a handful of them he had to care for on his own.

They weren’t exactly in the everyday garden, and I wasn’t interested in testing if any of them could maul me.

I had been through enough—maimed or death by plant wasn’t on my to do list.

After wiping the sweat from my brow, I sat in the grass for a break and drank from the water jug that followed me when the letter appeared. A letter from Baxter, based on the way my name was written on the envelope.

My first letter to him had been information shared through my aunt, who had replied yesterday.

She updated me on the situation in town.

Those who traveled to Cavehallow to warn them returned safely with supplies.

The sovereign sent soldiers from the capital to travel around the woodlands, ensuring the secondary roads were safe.

Guards from Cavehallow patrolled the village to keep an eye on the woodlands, but so far, Carline didn’t cause any issues.

That was relieving and gave me plenty of ways to reply that didn’t involve saying anything about my deadline.

However, the letter in my lap gave me a bad feeling for some reason.

Which was why I didn’t open it until my shoulders ached from the sun.

Ivory House traveled further south, based on the heat.

If we were in Westshire, there would be more of a nip in the air.

Getting up, I dusted myself off and sat on the stone benches beneath the trees, basking in the shade. Then I reluctantly opened the letter.

Dear Indy,

I’m writing to you out of worry. You never replied to my first letter, though your aunt visited to update me. She let me know the artificer has officially taken your case, which is great, but does not quell my concerns.

I don’t like you being there alone with him.

Artificers aren’t trustworthy. I hope he isn’t keeping you from writing to me or anyone else.

If anything is wrong, you have to let us know.

Artificers aren’t invincible. We can work out whatever the problem is.

Please write back to me. I was serious about us picking up from where we left off. I just hope you are as serious as I am.

Love ,

Baxter

Love again. I couldn’t contain my snort or the unusual anger bubbling in my gut.

He hoped I was as serious as he was? I was always the serious one.

He dropped me first, only to get protective after I was in danger.

It felt like he cared more that I was alone with a man than anything else, which was utterly ridiculous.

If Mr. Hawthorne were a woman, there would be as much of a chance.

Not to say I was attracted to Mr. Hawthorne.

He was conventionally attractive in the sense that many would find him nice to admire, but that wasn’t the same as other kinds of attraction.

I preferred my men a little more on the rugged side, certainly not someone obsessed with himself who spent so frivolously.

Sure, he was easy on the eyes, and he could be kind when he wanted to be. He took great care of his animals and had a sense of humor. He wasn’t bad, and if we weren’t colleagues, I might have been attracted—

No. It was stupid for Baxter to care. He was needlessly jealous.

My anger simmered, becoming something a little more in between.

No one had gotten jealous over me before.

I wasn’t the first choice. That never bothered me.

What bothered me was when I ended up being no one’s choice or the disappointing one.

“Indy, good morning.” Professor Kumir walked the pathway shaded under a purple parasol that matched her dress.

It was early morning. Mr. Hawthorne and Otis were asleep because Professor Kumir lectured them yesterday about skipping two nights in a row.

I heard her whacking Mr. Hawthorne over the head from the kitchen, saying he would be useless with a ragged mind.

Ivy had opened the door that morning, and a pair of clothes waited for me in the hall, so I took that as a sign that the others were asleep.

“Good morning.” I made space for her on the bench.

The professor twirled her parasol when sitting. Her cane leaned against her thigh. “Taking up gardening?”

“Since Otis has been so busy, I have been taking care of it, and I…” I folded Baxter’s letter to stash in the pocket of my overalls.

They were dirty and ripped from ye ars of labor, so they were perfect for gardening.

I tore a new hole in them for the whole tail issue.

“I need a distraction. This just so happens to be an enjoyable one.”

“Yes, it’s important to keep your mind off things now more than ever.

I’m doing the same. I needed a break and some fresh air.

That boy’s office is the definition of erratic.

I cannot fathom how he functions in there, and don’t get me started on the cologne he wore the other day.

” She waved a delicate hand in front of her nose as if the mere mention of cologne affronted it.

I laughed. “Yes, I’ve been having that same trouble.”

“Your senses have heightened, but is it more than your sense of smell?”

“I see well in the dark and hear much more. It’s nauseating at times, actually.”

They were senses I hoped to be rid of sooner rather than later. While they could prove useful, they were more annoying than anything else. Hopefully they wouldn’t become permanent…

“How are you faring in all of this?” the professor asked.

“Not well. This hasn’t gone away all morning.” I gestured toward the tail that stood partially alert and wagged gently.

The accursed appendage mimicked my emotions that were more turbulent than ever. Though I kept myself busy to avoid thinking about losing myself to the wolf entirely, the thought lingered at the back of my mind.

“So I see.” Professor Kumir shut her parasol to lie across her lap. “What would you like to ask?”

“How did you know I wanted to ask anything?”

Her gaze drifted to the tail. “I have had my fair share of dogs.”

My groan was deep and humiliated, though it was true.

Professor Kumir had been at the house for three days.

We spoke little past that initial interaction.

She took to re-reading Mr. Hawthorne’s notes and the incidents I wrote down concerning Carline.

When I happened to see her these last few days, I went to the office to tell them then left because I didn’t want to get in the way.

“I am fine with answering your questions, so long as you answer some of mine. I’ve made quite a list,” she added .

“I certainly can’t avoid answering them, seeing as my soul is at stake. How did you get into studying and tracking demons?”

“I initially worked with the militia on the construction of war machines. I did my job well and retired early. I have been keeping to my studies ever since.”

“So you studied demonology afterward?”

Professor Kumir held up a hand to signal for the water jug.

A second teacup wandered out of an open window to descend to her hand, where the jug poured for her.

“No, there are demons who work alongside humans in our military sectors under deals struck by our sovereign. There are those who seek riches, those who want souls—”

My heart clenched, and a vile taste fell on my tongue. “She offers souls?”

“Of our enemies,” the professor elaborated prior to drinking. “So she and many other royals find it a worthy endeavor.”

“That’s vile. I never… Who else knows this?”

“Whoever bothers to ask. It is an open secret. Most don’t care, so long as Arestat never crosses our borders.”

I didn’t want their theocracy to overtake us as much as anyone else.

Living close to the border, I met refugees, mostly women, seeking shelter from Arestat’s outdated beliefs.

Women could be beaten in the north simply for not wanting to bear children or for asking too many questions.

The priests who happened to cross the border spoke of destruction and blasphemy, frightening anyone who went near them.

They were easy to hate, although offering souls to a demon didn’t sit right with me, regardless.

“I don’t see how demons can be trusted,” I muttered. Carline’s face came to mind, the chill of her eyes and the eerie promises she spoke like a song.

Professor Kumir laughed. “They surely aren’t. It is a mutual arrangement, and those under Her Majesty’s power are nothing like Carline. She’s far too powerful for us or anyone to bargain with.”

“Other kingdoms do this too, then?”

Professor Kumir nodded .