Page 19 of Curses & Keys
Is this a trap? Frantic, I move toward the door, my head on a swivel, ears straining for the slightest of sounds, trying to findthe men he brought with him. Magic wraps around me, but I shrug it off.
“Wait, I beg you,” Dr. Samuels pleads behind me. “It’s just me, Letz. I came alone. Please hear me out.”
I stop but don’t turn around.
“Me and my…colleagues have been tracking you for centuries. We know of the work you’ve done to remove curses and dark magic from artifacts,” he reveals in a rush. “You could say we’re your biggest fans.”
That’s not good. All these years I thought I’d hidden myself well. I bite my lip and slowly turn to face him. “What are you talking about?”
He conjures another ball and floats it up to the ceiling. The glow sheds a little light into the room, showing me Dr. Letz Samuels isn’t even wearing a disguise. “That’s better.”
After a sigh, he continues his story. “Over the years, we narrowed it down to a handful of people. You were at the top of the list, but until we could prove it, we had no way of knowing for sure. We needed something big to lure you out in the open. Nolan’s collection gave us that opportunity. The work you did to remove the threats was incredible. We were very impressed.”
Damn, he does know who I am, or at least what I do, but I refuse to admit to anything. He’s an old, powerful mage. Who knows what magic he can wield.
“What do you think you know about me?” I draw the weapon at my side, along with a potion. I may not be able to cast magic, but I can wield it.
He eyes the vial in my hand. “There’s no need for violence, I assure you.” When I keep the items raised, he gives me a gentle smile, then continues. “I first stumbled across your work about a thousand years ago. A young mage, interested in the world’s artifacts, I went to work for the Catholic Church.” He chuckles. “I know. A mage working for a human religious organization.It was a leap of faith on my part. They, of course, thought I was human. It sounds bizarre, but back then, they were the only legitimate game in town. They had amassed the largest collection of relics, art, and other historical pieces, and I wanted access to it.”
His eyes shine with memories from that time. “Most of the apprentices were human, except for me and two others. As we sifted through the items, we could sense the magic in them, and not all of it was good. So we started working together to remove the spells designed to hurt humans or supernaturals.”
Astonished, I slide my weapons back into their holders.
He exhales loudly. “Thank you. Now, where was I? Oh yes. When we finished cataloging the collection for the church, the three of us formed a pact to continue our work on any future pieces. We recruited more members, and a thousand years later, we now have sixty dedicated supernaturals who do everything in their power to follow in your footsteps.”
His words hit me like a sledgehammer, and for a second, I forget to breathe. For three thousand years, I’ve felt alone. Trudging through life, doing the job I chose to do, with just a kernel of hope to fuel me. Invisible to the world. No family or friends to give life meaning. Only a singular, never-ending, and unappreciated purpose.
His words… I swallow hard. I feelseen.Valued. I should be concerned the gods will find out that I’ve been exposed, but if Letz’ group has been operating this long, they know how to keep a secret, including mine.
My voice is barely a whisper when I ask the question burning in my mind. “Why me?”
“Because of you,” he says simply. “One night, a stone figurine was stolen from the Vatican. We’d been working on the piece for weeks, trying one spell after another to remove the curse on it, but nothing worked. Disturbed about the theft, we worried aboutthe intent behind the person who had stolen it, but two days later, it reappeared…without the curse. This happened several times. Intrigued, we started tracking the thefts. Sometimes the items were returned, sometimes they weren’t, but if they were, the curse or spell would be broken.”
I remember the small clay figure, and the pieces that followed.
He rubs his chin. “We wanted to know who you were, but except for the thefts, all roads led to dead ends. Before we knew it, you became an obsession. When we left the church, we continued to track every incident, but we were always a step or two behind. Meeting you was a pipe dream. We thought it would never happen, but then Westgate died, and the collection gave us an incredible opportunity. Once I confirmed it was you, I planned on asking you to visit our society after the auction, but then I messed everything up.”
Reeling from his story, I don’t know what to do or say. I love the fact that there are others out there doing the same job, but completely revealing myself to sixty supernaturals who can tell the council of my existence is not an option.
His mouth compresses in anger. “The key was in a box along with a blue panel. It was part of Westgate’s collection. The two items intrigued me. Based on my research, they were found in Greece in 300 BCE, in the Temple of Hephaestus, along with several other relics. To my relief, neither piece was magical, but given their provenance and age, their value was immense.” He looks at me as if he expects me to understand, and I do. This is about money.
“Our group’s resources have been depleted over the years. I thought selling the items could solve our problems,” he admits with a heavy sigh. “The panel sold, but something happened during the sale that made me realize the group who broke into the museum and the one who bought the panel were thesame. I panicked. Didn’t know what to do. When another buyer appeared, I jumped at the chance to get rid of the key too. But that was before I knew it was you. For some reason, this key has stirred up a lot of trouble, and I don’t want you in the middle of whatever this is. You’re too valuable.”
Why do the humans want it so badly? “Let me see the key.”
When he holds out his hand, the key appears, and he reluctantly hands it over. “There’s something mesmerizing about it. Not magical. I don’t know what it is, but it’s hard for me to put it down.”
The key lies flat in the palm of my gloved hand, looking exactly like the image on the chat board post. “I’m not getting anything from it,” I admit to him. Although that could be due to the glove, but I won’t remove it here. “No magic.” I turn to him. “I don’t usually buy non-magical items, but I’m curious as to why they want it so badly. And why they’re willing to set me up for its theft.”
Understanding and relief fill his face as he holds out his hand to take it back.
I shake my head. “The key in exchange for the money and your silence. You tell no one about me. Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a place to hide it from the humans.” Whatever this is, he’s clearly in over his head.
For a second, he hesitates but then takes a step back. “I don’t suppose you’ll consider visiting me and our little secret society? It would mean the world to us.”
I say nothing in return, silently tucking the key into a small pocket on the inside of my suit, and pulling out my phone to release the money to him.
He chuckles at my silence, but the laughter fades quickly. He puts a finger up to his mouth. With a flick of his wrist, he sends several orbs flying from the room.
