Papa’s Curse

In my last post, I talked about brainstorming for a writing contest. I wasn’t chosen as one of the winners, so I thought I’d share the story I came up with here instead. Enjoy!

Benna carefully set down the last rock, completing the circle around the bowl of honey she’d balanced on a small pile of moss. Cheery daisies and fragrant marigolds surrounded the bowl.

It was perfect.

“O fairies of the woods,” she carefully recited. “Please accept this offering and grant me a favor.”

She held her breath, eyes darting from tree to tree, but the forest was still. Quiet. Empty.

Benna sat, unwilling to disturb the quiet and risk upsetting the process, for hours. Her legs tingled with numbness, but she refused to give up. She needed answers, and fairies were her best bet.

A quick look back toward her house gave Benna a glimpse of the sun, slowly growing closer to the horizon. If none of the fairies were going to help her (if fairies even existed, a nasty voice whispered in her mind), then she needed to head home to start her backup plan.

Papa needed her, even if he didn’t realize it.

She sighed and slowly pushed to her feet, shaking out the pricking pain as the numbness faded. But as she reached forward to take her offerings back home, a small voice piped up.

“Is that for me?”

Benna froze, slowly drawing her hand back.

“Are you a fairy?” she whispered. “The stories say I can summon a fairy with the right offering.”

She waited in agonizing silence for a reply, scanning the nearby trees and bushes to see if she could spot her visitor.

“Is there a reason you summoned me?” he asked.

Benna’s fingers dug into the grass. “Yes! I need help, please.”

“I’m willing to at least hear you out. Who are you, and what kind of help are you looking for?”

“My name is—” Benna only just managed to cut herself off. “Wait, I’m not supposed to tell you my name. Um, you can call me . . . Emma.”

“And what sort of help are you looking for, Emma?”

Benna shifted back and forth. “My papa is cursed. But I don’t know anything about magic, and no one believes me. I figured if anyone would know, a fairy would. Um, I’m sorry, where are you? And what can I call you?”

A bush to Benna’s left rustled softly. “Well, you know that fairies have a lot of rules. I’m afraid I can’t let you see me, so I’ll stay in this bush for now, as long as you promise not to peek.”

“I promise!”

“And you may call me Pebble Cloudleaf. Why do you think your father is cursed?”

Benna’s shoulders slumped, and she collapsed near the bush to lean against a tree. “Everyone says he’s sad about Mama dying, but he doesn’t cry or anything! Once he thinks I’m asleep, he sneaks out of our cottage and doesn’t come back until morning.”

“Hmm,” Pebble said, his high voice thoughtful. “It might be a curse, but it’s hard to say. If you bring me more gifts, I might be able to help you.”

Benna’s breath caught. “Really?”

“Indeed! But I’m not overly fond of honey and flowers. Would you bring me some snails instead?”

****

Benna’s hands shook as she opened the jewelry box hidden beneath her father’s bed. He was napping (Papa never used to nap), but despite how tired he looked, his sleep was fitful and light.

Papa shifted in his bed, a frown wrinkling his forehead as he breathed out Mama’s name. Benna froze, but he didn’t wake. Ever so slowly, she finished raising the lid.

Tears burned in the corner of her eyes as she looked at all the reminders of Mama, but she gritted her teeth and ignored them. She just needed Mama’s favorite ribbon, and luckily, she immediately spotted a corner of it sticking out from a few scraps of paper covered in Mama’s handwriting. The ribbon, silky smooth and Mama’s favorite shade of yellow (“like your hair,” she’d always tell Benna), slid out at Benna’s hesitant tug. She carefully closed the lid and scooted away from Papa’s bed. A quick grab of her cloak, and she was tiptoeing out the door, latching it quietly behind her.

She returned to the clearing where she met Pebble a week ago. Kneeling near the bush where she most often heard her fairy friend, she pressed one last kiss to the ribbon before tucking it into a hollow stump. Then she settled back to wait, making sure to close her eyes so that Pebble could look at her gift without her seeing him.

Benna smiled. The ritual was the bright spot of her days now. She would bring Pebble the gift he asked for, he would inspect it like a merchant looking over goods, and once he was satisfied, he would tell her a little more about magic.

She flexed her fingers, stiff in their bandages. At least today’s gift was easier to get. Pebbles didn’t quite have a human understanding of things, and the third time they met, he’d asked her to bring blackberries from his favorite bush. The directions he gave her led to an area overgrown with thorny bushes, and the berries had been hidden deep within. While a fairy could navigate them with ease, she had come away with bloody fingers.

And the mushrooms she had brought yesterday, well, she was shocked to learn that they weren’t poisonous to fairies like they were humans. Luckily, Benna had spent a lot of time foraging with Mama before she got sick, so she knew how to handle them safely.

Finally, Benna heard the bush shake—Pebble’s signal that he was ready to talk. She opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight.

“What a lovely gift you’ve brought me today, Emma.” Pebble always said the name like he was reminding her it was fake. “It’s even prettier than you described.”

Benna wrung her hands, wincing at the sting. “Is it what you needed?”

Pebble’s laugh tinkled through the clearing. “Exactly what I needed. It has strong emotional ties to you and your parents. Give me just a moment.” A small, sharp breath. “It’s a Siren Curse. Someone or something is drawing out your poor father every night and tormenting him.”

The tears she had been holding back all afternoon finally began to fall. “A Siren Curse?” she whispered. “How do we break it?”

Pebble hummed, his tiny voice somehow deep and resonant. “It won’t be easy, and you’ll have to be the one to do the work.”

“I’ll do anything to save him!” Benna cried.

“It’s obvious how much you love him,” Pebble soothed her. “I know you’re brave enough. Go home, but don’t let your father know anything is going on. The curse may compel him to try and stop you. Pack a bag and meet me tomorrow at the top of the cliffs.”

“Alright,” Benna said, surging to her feet. “I’ll do it. I promise.”

****

The wind whistled over the cliffs, whipping Benna’s dress around her legs as she waited.

“Pebble?” she whispered. “I’m ready to go.”

If her voice shook, if her knees knocked, at least no one would see it. Well, no one but Pebble, but he’d already seen her cry.

Silence pressed down, hopeless and helpless.

“I’m here. Are you ready?” Pebble asked.

She hiked her bag up over her shoulder and nodded. “Yes. Where do I go?”

A bush near the edge of the cliffs rustled, and Benna walked toward it, careful not to look directly at it.

“Do you trust me, Emma?” Pebble asked.

“Of course I do! You’re the only person who’s believed me about Papa’s curse.”

“I’m afraid that what I’m going to ask you to do will sound wrong. But you need to trust I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Benna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I already told you, I’ll do anything to help Papa. Just tell me what I need to do.”

“Jump off the cliff.”

Benna’s breathing stuttered to a stop. As she blinked, trying to make sense of what Pebble had said, she almost thought she could hear her father calling out for her.

He needs me to save him.

“I won’t fall?” she asked, her voice faint, her courage rising.

“I won’t let you,” Pebble said. “You can’t see me, so I have to stay behind you, but my fairy dust will let you fly as long as I’m close. There’s a small cave about halfway down that you can’t reach on foot, which is where—” His voice cut off.

The faint call of her name, what she thought was only a memory, grew louder.

“Did you tell him where you were going?” Pebble’s voice turned as sharp as the rocks at the base of the cliff.

“No! That is—I didn’t say where I was going, only that I was leaving.”

Papa’s voice was getting louder. “Please come home. I can explain everything!”

Behind her, Pebble sighed, harsh and grating. “I told you, the magic will make him try to stop us. It’s all part of the curse. Now we have to hurry, before he catches up.”

Benna turned, caught between the cliff’s edge and her papa’s voice. He sounded like when Mama was sick, and he was begging her to get better.

“Are you sure I can’t say goodbye?” she asked.

Pebble tried to keep his voice kind, but she could hear the strain underneath it. “I’m afraid not. You have to jump; it’s the only way to save him. Now, Benna!”

Her feet drifted to the edge of the cliff, but she couldn’t help one last glance toward the path.

Papa crashed through the trees, staggering to a stop at the sight of her. “Benna, what are you doing, love?”

She couldn’t help herself. Her eyes darted to Pebble’s bush. “I’m saving you, Papa.”

He inched toward her like she was a scared animal. “You said as much in your note. And I’m grateful you want to help me, sweetheart, but this is not the way to do it. I promise I’ll do better, but I need you to move away from the edge, Benna.”

His hands shook. Hers did too.

Pebble’s bush was silent and still.

“That’s the curse talking,” she told Papa. “But it’s alright. I found someone to help.”

“Are they in the bush?” Papa asked, pausing and shifting his focus.

“No,” Benna said, but she never could lie to him.

Papa lunged forward. Benna tried to stop him, but she was too slow. Papa hit the bush in a tackle.

The winged figure that came flying out of the bush was larger than Benna expected. It wasn’t a fairy at all, but a bird. A large bird, nearly the size of her neighbor’s guard dog, but with a human head. The face, nasty and snarling, smirked at her.

Papa’s strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back.

“You will not take my daughter from me, siren!” he spat. One hand pressed against the side of her head, covering one ear and pressing the other against his chest.

She couldn’t hear Pebble anymore either, and when Papa eventually let her go, Pebble was gone.

Papa collapsed in front of her, hands framing her face. “Benna, are you alright?”

“I don’t understand, Papa,” she said in a small voice. “Why are you mad at Pebble? He was helping me.”

Tears filled his eyes, and he wrapped her in another tight hug.

“I’m not cursed, honey.”

“But you’ve been so strange ever since Mama died!” Benna couldn’t stop the sobs. “It’s like you’ve gone away too!”

Warm teardrops fell on her head, and she clenched her fists in his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Benna-love,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

“I just want Mama to come home!” Benna wailed.

Papa’s arms tightened. “I do too. But we still have each other.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”