Epilogue
The Cursed
The old woman had fallen asleep in her chair. A noise awoke her, and she glanced at the window. Outside the world had turned to twilight. She squinted in the growing darkness, and heard the sound again—a creaking hinge.
Her gaze drifted to the door, and it slowly opened. A tall man stood there, shrouded in twilight, and his face concealed in shadows, but she knew him—the one who did not fear her curses. The one who had chased the Guild pilot. He had come back…as she knew he would.
Behind him, a voice said, “Let’s go. Leave her alone. We don’t need her curses. Things are bad enough now with Numbot gone.”
The one behind him could be seen more clearly—bald and heavy, fear shining in his darting eyes. She knew they worked together in the prize fights. She also knew they labored for a power beyond Geth—an evil force. “Have you come to murder me, you traitors of your own people?”
“Aye,” the one in the doorway said, his breathing erratic and quick. “I’ve come to end the disgusting life of the hideous, deformed daughter of Geth. Here is my laser. Where are your curses now, old witch?”
A brilliant, white flash erupted from his hand. Her belly burned, and she groaned. She rocked back in her chair, and the foul odor of her own charred flesh gagged her. She could not feel her feet or toes, but she could raise a trembling hand.
She pointed a bony finger at him, then cried out, coughing and gasping. “Away from all thy comrades be…’til Lazarus comes…to vanquish thee.” Her hand dropped.
He screamed and dropped the weapon. “I’m on fire! Someone help me.” A look of horror crawled into his eyes. He turned and stumbled down the steps.
The other one gasped. “Your skin…it’s blistering and bleeding. Don’t come near me. It’s some kind of disease. Beg her to forgive you and give her whatever money we have.”
“Get out of my way.”
He staggered off, but the fat one returned, trembling, and fell to his knees across the threshold. “Oh, daughter of Geth, please do not curse me. This was not my idea.” He bowed his face to the floor. “Please, Morning Toill, have mercy.”
“Go away. I’m fresh out of curses.”
Hesitantly, he rose to his feet and stared at her as she clutched at her wound. His eyes rounded, and he ran off.
Her lower half went numb. She couldn’t get out of the chair, so she stared out the door, at the view from her life for many, many years. It is not a bad day to die, and the pain is easing.
Soon she heard footsteps. The young girl from that morning had come back and now stood in her doorway. “Can we come in to help you?”
The old woman nodded.
When the girl reached her side, and her gaze fell on the wound in her belly, a thin man, wearing the striped mantle of a Geth merchant, stepped into the doorway. The girl looked back. “I think she’s dying, Papa.”
He hurried to her side and lifted a com as he shined a light on her wound.
She eyed the gadget. “Not many have such things on Geth.”
He stooped beside her and examined her wound. “I went to school on Daggon and never intended to return. I came back to visit my parents, met Elle’s mother, and never went back. Those two who did this to you are Confederation infiltrators. There is a Guild ship in orbit, and I know its captain—she’s a friend of mine. I was asked by her, to come look in on you. It seems you also know my little girl, so maybe my coming was meant to be.”
She grunted. “I would like to be buried in the courtyard where the palace of Geth once stood. There is a place there for me, near my father and mother. She was the one Geth truly loved—he told me so.” She smiled.
“The wound is clean and has stopped bleeding, but I can’t tell if the shot hit an organ.”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
He shined the light of his com into her eyes. “Try not to move until I get back.” He stood and touched the girl on the shoulder. “Stay with her while I find a doctor.” He fled, and the girl approached her hesitantly, her eyes moist and her lips thin.
The old woman’s lips stretched. “Did you take to the family of Jaffe Lod the gold coin, Elle Aliee?”
She nodded and a tear spilled down her cheek.
The old woman coughed. “No need for tears. I’ve lived a full life. What happened with Jaffe Lod?”
He asked me to forgive him, then his mother gave the coin back to me.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“Yes.” More tears fell, and she lifted her hand. In it she held a large red gem. “This was in the ragdoll you gave me. I brought it back to you. My father says it is a very rare jewel.”
“This is the dowry Geth left me. It is most valuable.” She closed the girl’s hand over the gem. “I want you to have it. I’ve been looking for someone to give it to.”
The girl wiped at her tears. “I told my papa what you told me to do. He agreed and sent me over there with the coin. Because of this he has changed his mind about you. Now he says only the cursed truly fear your curses.” She looked at the wound in the old woman’s belly, and her lips trembled. “You’ll come home with us now. We have room. And you can tell me stories about Geth.”
The old woman winced. Her eyes grew heavy and things became real still. “Use the jewel of Geth wisely, Elle Aliee.”
A small hand slipped into her own, like a mooring line, as she closed her eyes with a sigh.
Dedication
THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO MY DEAR FAMILY
Kerri: My love and my best friend.
Joshua: Independent, just like me.
Jeremiah: Close to God and tender of heart.
Abigail: Talented and sweet.
John-Daniel: Bright eyes and full of life.
I love you all so very much.
Acknowledgement
I wish to thank Martha Eskuchen, eTreasures Publishing owner for believing in me and to Ellen Spain, Acquisitions Editor for her mentorship. Special thanks to all the other great editors who are transforming my manuscripts into real books: Patricia Bates, Cassiel Knight, and Cher Green.
Meet the Author