Page 40 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

How many soldiers lost their lives in battle protecting their homes only to have their souls taken by demons?

Did they know that was a risk, and did they realize afterward that they were used?

Did their souls remain in our world, tormented until the demon who had them in their clutches was put to rest?

“The world can be a violent place,” Professor Kumir said with the cup held in her lap. “I, too, believed in such methods once, but I was wrong. I cannot make amends, and I do not expect to, but I will help when I can, as I am with you.”

“I appreciate that.”

Even if I questioned how anyone could believe that path to be the right one.

Perhaps I would think differently if I was alive during war times or if I wasn’t about to lose my soul.

I hoped I wouldn’t, that I would never agree to put anyone through such torment, but one never knew what they were capable of until they were put in the worst possible scenario.

My attention drifted to the window, half expecting Mr. Hawthorne to be listening in, but we were entirely alone. “You mentioned when you arrived that Mr. Hawthorne stole from you.”

“Yes, the little bastard,” she muttered endearingly. She had long since forgiven him, even if she complained. “The first time I met him was at Trinity Schoolhouse. I was sent under Her Majesty’s orders to hire recruits.”

The frustration mounted. I didn’t hide the bite in my inquiry. “She sought to recruit children?”

“Yes, young aspiring artificers in need of a stable income after graduation. Most at Trinity didn’t and won’t ever make it as far as Rooke has. Regardless, should the sovereign call, all artificers must adhere to her summons.”

That was true, but it felt different, wrong to speak to young people who, as the professor expressed, wouldn’t make it far in life.

The school wasn’t only for show. Nobles created an institute to train soldiers that would be too young to understand what they were signing up for at the time and too desperate to say no.

I never expected to pity artificers. Francesca had always been a thorn in our side.

She mistreated us every chance she got. Because of her, because of those in town, artificers always seemed so far above everyone else.

They had magic, of all things, but there were disadvantages I never expected.

Still, after spending so much time with them, I couldn’t deny that part of me grew envious.

The Ivory House was so charming. I’d love to live in a place like it for the rest of my days.

“Otis taught there at the time, and he introduced me to Rooke. I believe he was thirteen back then.” Professor Kumir thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes, the next year, I retired, and Otis not long after that. He brought Rooke to visit me in hopes of satiating his boundless curiosity, and he snuck off with my research.”

“Here I thought he could charm whatever answers he wanted out of you,” I said.

“He always tried, and I won’t deny he succeeded from time to time.

At the time, he complained about how he wasn’t allowed into the restricted sections of The Grand Tempest Archives yet.

You must pass your LAAs first, so he wanted to take the opportunity to read my work on demons while he had the chance. ”

My tail kept wagging and hitting me in the side. I swatted at it. “I had no idea there were any restrictions. The library was open to me when we went there.”

“There are protected documents kept out of the public eye, although most of the content is open to everyone.” She set the teacup aside and situated herself to better face me. “Now, onto our specific demon and curse, if you are up for it.”

“I am as ready as I will ever be.” Which wasn’t ready at all.

While the ordeal wasn’t entirely unbearable, there were less than pleasant aspects that I would struggle to bury.

Anything to do with Carline, I hoped to lose, but the memories of Ivory House and its inhabitants, I wouldn’t mind carrying them with me for the rest of my days.

“I have gone through the notes you and Rooke have taken to realize that you have not told us the most important part: what was her offer?” Her question stole the breath from my lungs.

He really didn’t write it down, and he didn’t tell her when he should have.

He didn’t because he promised me he wouldn’t, and he kept that promise.

My heart warmed with a feeling I knew all too well.

I used all my willpower to smother it. The garden where my affections blossomed had been torn up enough .

The professor hummed, bringing my attention back to her. It was easier to speak it aloud that time, “Five years. She said I could live a life of luxury with my family for five years. I would then die in my sleep, my soul would be hers, and my family would still live a full and luxurious life.”

“Why do you sound ashamed?”

“I don’t. I just…”

She gave a pointed look, one that spoke without words.

“Should I have said yes?” I asked, expecting her to gawk or berate me, but she sat silently as my words spilled.

“My aunt took me in after my mom died. She lost her husband a few years later and had to care for her daughters and a child that isn’t hers.

She’s tired, and my cousins deserve better.

If I say yes, Carline will give them more than we could ever dream of, and I’d be with them for a time. Is it not selfish of me to say no?”

“No one who wishes to live is selfish, and no one is a fool to consider Carline’s deal worthy of acceptance.

She wouldn’t be a good demon if she didn’t offer a worthy prize,” she replied so simply that the words dragged a strangled breath from me.

One twisted by relief and a little hope because I hadn’t expected that response, although it is exactly what I had wanted to hear.

“You said she had to care for her daughters, but you don’t include yourself among them?” she asked.

My palms took on a sweat that I wiped along my thighs. “Um, I… no, she’s my aunt, and I love her, and I love them, but I’m not…”

You’re not her daughter, Carline had said, and it had always been true.

Always been a truth that lingered on the edge of my mind, worsening my sense of self, of belonging, everything, because she did all a mother would, but she wasn’t my mother.

My mother died. Nothing could bring her back.

Nothing could bring back the family I had that, while having been no more than seven years, were the best years of my life.

That made me feel worse too, that I appreciated something so long ago more than what I had gone through now .

“You do not see yourself as a part of the immediate family.” When Professor Kumir spoke, it was said like a fact, “Carline always travels with wolves. That is consistent with her. She has traveled the lands, settled where she wished, and chosen people seemingly at random. We never had the best grasp on her due to her isolation and the rare abductions, so it is the wolves that garner my interest.”

She stood to peer into the forest, her hand fisted over the head of her cane.

The parasol laid on the bench beside me.

The professor took to pacing, four or so steps from side to side.

“Wolves are pack animals. They care for one another, even for the elderly. A pack is family and protection, meaning Carline has surrounded herself with that, and it’s telling. ”

My eyes followed her back and forth. “In what way?”

“You said your mother passed away, and your aunt took you in, but what happened with your father?” She did not ask with a bite but as a scientist would speak to their subject. In a way, I appreciated it, and in another, it made me feel awful.

The thought of him left an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

There were fond memories, all of them tainted by the view of his back marching out the door to accept the hand of another woman.

He ignored my pleas to stay as Mom held me close.

He never wrote to us, never sent a card for my birthday, simply disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Sometimes, I wondered where he was, how he was doing, and if he replaced his family entirely. The artificer he married, that woman smiling so smugly as I wept, did they have children? Did he love them, or had he abandoned them, too?

His memories smothered me in a cloud of gloom that put an indescribable ache through my twitching limbs. “Is this relevant?”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t,” she replied.

“He abandoned us.”

“So you lose them, go to live with an aunt and uncle, where you do not view yourself as immediate family, then you struggle to maintain romantic relationships.” She ceased her pacing to gaze upon my pocket, where Baxter’s letter was stashed. She acted as if we spoke of the day’s weather .

“I don’t struggle to maintain romantic relationships.” My tail gave a slow wag.

“Tell me about them then, these relationships.” She kept flicking her attention to my pocket, reminding me of that damn letter and how I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say in return.

Feeling hot, I crossed my arms. “Is this going somewhere?”

“You’re isolated, and there is no one easier to drag into a pack.”

“I’m not isolated. My aunt and cousins are family—”

“Who you do everything for, so much so that you neglect yourself.”

“I don’t—”

She pointed a sharpened nail at me. “All the clothes you brought from home are riddled with stitches and patchwork.”

Memories of sitting on my bed stitching them together came to mind, and with those memories, shame.

“I don’t need more than that,” I argued.

“But your cousins do? If I were to visit, tell me, would their clothes be better taken care of? Would your clothes still be stashed in crates under your bed?”

I gawked. “How did you…”

“Rooke saw it when he was enchanting the house.” She stepped closer, looming over me. “The night you were attacked, you went into the woods to get your cousin’s doll and did everything, including risking your life, to ensure that she got it back.”

I stood, feeling the need to defend myself. “I didn’t risk my life. The doll was with me, and I made sure it stayed with me.”

“You give them everything and expect nothing in return. Am I right?” she asked, but the words were accusatory, and I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” So I walked away.