The Bathory Curse (12 page)

“No.” Nea backed up, eyes wide, glancing at
Bendis.

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing most of the time.
She feels deep guilt over killing her own babe, she’s quite insane.
She’s cradling a roast Beth made her.”

“Isn’t she worried that Beth will poison her?”

“No. Beth feels too sorry for her to do so, she
makes her a roast a week, Clara keeps it like a baby and eats it.
Eventually it goes bad and makes her sick. She tends to herself and
once she is well again Beth cooks another one for her.”

Nea was pale and felt cold all over. Then the
doorbell rang and she and Bendis froze. There was a few minutes
where the whole household was silent and then laughter radiated
from the first floor.

“Agata, Marta, come down here you have a visitor!”
Anna’s voice shrieked. Nea closed her eyes, she didn’t want to see;
instead heard the door slam open and someone dash down the
stair.

“I have got to break the curse and get them out of
here,” Nea whispered and for the second time in less than an hour
she threw up.

Chapter 7

After cleaning Nea up, they were about to ascend to
the third floor when a horrible burned meat smell filled Nea’s
nostrils, it was rank and acrid. Bendis grabbed her arm and pulled
her up two or three of the stairs right as another woman walked by
to reach the first floor. She was burned to a crisp. Nea only knew
it was a woman because of the dress she was wearing, it was new,
clean and without scorch marks. Her flesh should have been
sloughing away; black with dark red underneath, pale eyes looked
out from all the scars and scalded flesh. Her hair was almost gone,
what remained were just straggly hunks jutting out of her head. It
was Viva, the one who had been burned at the stake, the first
Bathory whose portrait hung in her gallery.

One of the doors creaked open and Catharine peered
out, Bendis had been right, she was dried out and sunken in, like a
pale raisin. One skeletal hand came around, gripping the door knob.
It was hard to believe she had died at 19.

“Viva, you should come join me,” she rasped.

“I have no interest in playing dead for you today….”
Viva sounded clear and normal which surprised Nea.

“You didn’t use to mind; besides, my last friend
disappeared,” Catharine pouted.

“That was before, when I cared to feel again.”
Viva’s smile was a hideous thing, all white teeth, her lips
basically gone.

“Now you let Beth poison you instead,” Catharine
pointed out, “and sometimes I hear you in there with Marta and
Agata.”

“And when I tire of that I will change to something
else.” She shrugged and the sound it made had Nea almost throwing
up again. Viva descended the stairs as Catharine slammed the
door.

“I can’t believe you let them live like this,” Nea
exclaimed, turning on her Goddess.

“They don’t really live Nea…they exist and I don’t
have any control over it until the curse is broken. I just make
them…comfortable.”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

“I have even appealed to Death Gods of old. Hades,
Osiris and Ereshkigal are tired of hearing from me…This curse has
to be broken before anyone can fix any of this.” Bendis was so
weary it made Nea’s heart ache even more. Nea had never met any
other Gods. Lesson 22 was that no other Gods came near them, or
interfered with Stregas and Strigoi.

The third floor was a giant empty room, sitting in a
rocking chair watching out a window a thin beautiful Jozsa was
crying to herself. She looked just like her portrait.

“Why does she cry?” Nea wanted to comfort her, but
knew better than to disregard Bendis’ warning about not calling
attention to herself.

“Because she most of all understands what is
happening here…Those are her precious daughters that she died for
downstairs fornicating with each other. She sees how her actions
affected them more than the rest.”

The crying halted and slowly the 22 year old woman
in the chair turned around, eyes searching for something she
couldn’t quite grasp; around her mouth were sores that seemed to be
like angry blisters. Recognizing an unnamable illness when she saw
one, Nea knew she would have those lesions in places they couldn’t
see as well.

“Does she know we’re here?” Nea whispered.

“She senses something…She stays so close to the
fourth floor your mother’s lucidness rubs off on her sometimes.
It’s another reason Jenica does not wander the house, she alone is
completely aware of what has happened. I can’t have that rub off on
the rest of the crazy downstairs,” Bendis sighed.

“Why not?”

“It would get worse. I know that’s hard to believe,
but it would be nothing but screams, crying and bloodshed.”

“Poor Jozsa.”

“Yes, she is the saddest of them so far. When I
visit she is never in her rooms or with the others. She just sits
up here and cries.”

“Why not give her a room up here, why is it so
empty?”

“It is waiting.”

“For what?”

“More of your family. The house grows to accommodate
you all.” They began up the narrow staircase that led to the fourth
floor. A heavy metal door barred their path.

“I cannot go any further, it’s part of an agreement
I made with…well with who shares your mother’s space. I have only
one rule you must follow while inside.” Bendis leaned against the
wall, looking even older than she normally did as the crone.

“What?” Nea didn’t understand and didn’t like
that.

“You may say anything to your mother you would
like…but you may not speak to the other. She may speak to you
however and you can listen, but do not talk to her directly, and
especially, do not ask her questions, you won’t like what I do if
you disobey me. I will wait here for you.”

“How is that fair? This is all so ridiculous.” Nea
was angry, why all the rules and secrets? Her task would be so much
easier if Bendis would just be forthcoming.

“Your mother is the only one who can talk to her.”
Bendis clamped her mouth shut, lips thin.

Nea went to the door and placed her hand on the
handle, it seemed to warm to her presence and with a resounded
snick it opened. Nea stepped inside, the door shut silently behind
her, and breathed in relief. The room was warm and lovely; full of
light. Her mother was standing in front of a stove making tea and
turned slowly at her approach. Her eyes widened at first, the same
blue as her daughter and then became distraught.

“Mama! I’m here, but I’m ok, Bendis brought me!” She
felt ten years old again as she ran to her mother and the two women
embraced.

“You are not dead? You are unaffected by the curse?”
Jenica patted her daughter’s hair and face, checking to make sure
she was alright; it had been so long since she had seen her. Jenica
was a plump woman in her late thirties with the Bathory signature
blue eyes and blonde hair. She wore strange blue pants and a tunic
that was thick and cut funny, in a pale peach color.

“Mama, what are you wearing?” Nea asked as they sat
down on a thick comfy elongated seat.

“They are called jeans and a sweater. Since I no
longer need be burdened with things from my own time I pretty much
pick and choose from whatever I like in whatever time I wish,”
Jenica laughed.

“You’ve cut your hair so short.” Nea complained
reaching up to touch a sheared lock.

“I like it this way.” Jenica shrugged, “what are you
doing here?”

“I am a Strega now, in Bendis’ service for all
eternity or something like that. How are you?”

“A Strega? That’s a great honor, I wish she had
chosen me, then I wouldn’t be stuck in this hellish place.”

“Is it really bad?”

“Oh I am well enough. I meant only that I wish I
could be with your father.” Jenica sighed, sadly, “Enough about me,
how are my grandsons?”

Smiling Nea told her all about Mihnea and Mihail,
leaving out some of the darker parts for later.

“And that husband of yours?”

“When I died Vlad had a hard time of it, eventually
he was imprisoned and then they tried to kill him.” Nea knew her
mother understood the politics of their homeland. “As far as I know
he has turned vampire.” Nea gave a small smirk as her mother
crossed herself, then Nea told her about Ruxandra, Sabine and some
of the adventures she had since becoming one of Bendis
Strega’s.

“Are you ok here?” Nea asked again, after a little
while, she had to know.

“Well, I wish I could move on, and some days it can
get a little boring around here, but yes, I am fine. Bendis has
given us so many tools of the future I can’t even begin to describe
them. I have everything I could want here, my own chamber, kitchen,
indoor plumbing, a space to do my weaving and a library.” Her
mother frowned and pointed out a wooden door that was propped open
letting in more fresh air and Nea could see the darkness outside
was illuminated by fake sunlight.

“Why didn’t you come up the back stairs? The house
is atrocious.” Jenica asked, confused and thinking about the
strange sounds and smells that sometimes made their way upstairs
and her first initial visit with Bendis after her death when all
had been explained.

“I didn’t know there was a back way. Bendis must
have wanted me to see all that awfulness.” A thought crossed Nea’s
mind, “Bendis said you can leave, do you?”

“Of course, we visit some of the other people here
in Limbo and that big flashy building down the road is called a
casino; it’s ridiculous and fun…it’s for gambling, not like we
really need to lose or win money.” Jenica laughed at the expression
on her daughter’s face.

“Now darling, Bendis would not have brought you here
to me simply in a gesture of affection.”

“I am trying to break the curse and I don’t think I
am succeeding, Mama I need help.” Nea shared and told her about all
the Bathorys she had encountered in the last 100 years. Jenica got
a strange look on her face and then turned around.

“I think you should come out now,” she called. She
reached out and grabbed her daughter’s arm, “you know the rules
yes? You cannot speak to her.” Nea nodded with wide eyes, she had
never seen her mother so serious before.

A young woman came out from behind a curtain, Nea
jerked in disbelief, she hadn’t had a clue anyone else was in the
room. The girl had beautiful pale skin and eyes that were so blue
they almost had lavender in them. Her hair was black and long, in a
braid past her bottom. She was lovely to look at with perfect
features. Nea guessed she had to be close to 21 years old, or at
least when she died. She was wearing a pale blue dressing gown and
holding a small baby doll like it was precious to her.

“Mariska, this is my daughter Cneajna, I have told
you about her.” Jenica had a comforting smile on her face, calm and
serene. Mariska studied Jenica and then stared at Nea.

“She calls you Nea when we are alone.”

“That’s right, a nick name.” Jenica agreed.

“You are with Bendis now, you stink of her magic.”
She frowned.

“She’s trying to break the curse,” Jenica
explained.

“My baby is downstairs.” She seemed so sad, Nea
wanted to ask which one, but bit her lip.

“Maybe you should introduce yourself.” Jenica
prodded.

“I am Mariska. I am the first of all of us.” She
seemed proud of this fact.

“Yes you are, you need to tell her what you can. I
know you don’t like talking about it.” There was a pleading tone in
her mother’s voice.

“The root is love, love and jealousy; a rash
decision ruined my life and all of yours.” Mariska tugged at her
dress. Then she speared Nea with a dark look, “you cannot fix it
the way you have been, I’m sorry. Only one can truly end this and
they have chosen to be blind and not see what needs seeing.”

Nea’s face fell. She couldn’t fix it? Then who
could? “Mama, do you know who cast the curse, what the wording of
it was? When it was cast?”

“I only know what Mariska tells me, she was the
first, she told me she was born back in 1290, and that she loved
the wrong person. I’m sorry but she doesn’t like to talk about it,
even to me and when she does it is all in riddles.” Jenica hugged
her daughter again, not knowing when she would have the chance
to.

“The portrait,” Nea pulled away, “it’s Mariska’s
picture in the first portrait, the one that has been ripped away
and scratched out.”

“There might be another way…I see so much power
surrounding you.” Mariska had wandered away but she was back,
kneeling by Nea and staring into her face.

“A granddaughter who isn’t a granddaughter, alive
who isn’t alive.” Mariksa chanted. She stood up and began to dance
with her doll singing quietly, “A granddaughter what isn’t a
granddaughter, alive who isn’t alive.”

“What are…is she talking about?” Nea caught herself,
watching her mother who was staring at the girl fondly.

“No idea, but she has visions of the future
sometimes, prophecies. She probably had the gift even before she
died.”

“She’s not all there is she?”

“No. When the curse was cast she died within the
year. I am afraid she won’t be normal again until it’s broken, just
like everyone else.”

“Mama, how did you escape it?”

“I hate talking about that, Nea.” Jenica stood and
went back over to the stove, stirring a large black pot that had
steam rising from it.

“It might be important,” with that, Nea explained
about Stasi. Her mother got paler and paler until the spoon in her
hand was simply a forgotten tool. Mariska had stopped dancing to
listen, she crept a little closer to Nea.

“It hurts your Mama to talk about such things,” the
crazy girl murmured.

“I think maybe I should even though it does. It’s
ok, Mariska,” Jenica put the spoon down, wiped her hand on a towel
and came back to sit with her daughter.