Escaping Her Curse—Completed

Chapter Thirty-Four

It had been an awkward dinner between the three of them. Jessie had dressed in a much more modest evening attire, though none of the choices that Bossman had provided truly covered everything. If a gown had a high neck, then there was a long slit revealing her legs. And with the onset of stares she received, she was already tired of feeling like a commodity. She had no choice but to trust in Bossman’s promise early on about how no one would touch her if she continued to stay useful.

That night, she wore a red dress that had a scoop neckline with the sleeves off the shoulder. There was a slit that ran up her leg, but it stopped mid-thigh. Crystals ran along the neckline and ran down the bodice in a swirled pattern. The skirt was solid fabric that stopped at the floor, hiding her slippered feet. Both of them stared at her as she entered the dining room and took her seat. Jessie did her best to ignore them both, not wanting to give a moment of acknowledgment to their behavior, lest it helped continue their antics.

The dinner did reveal more information to her, which she appreciated, especially since she felt like they were purposely keeping things from her. She learned that the Wanderers roamed the manor as a form of security as well as to get them used to the people it wasn’t supposed to attack. It was a long process, and they needed time to build a semblance of a relationship with them. It’s job was to get used to certain scents in order to avoid them later on.

While they ate, she also carefully watched how Michael and Bossman interacted. It was interesting to see the dynamic of owner and watchdog. Michael didn’t even seem to mind the small digs and obvious disdain that Bossman had for him. She couldn’t figure out why he was treating his only black magic user so poorly, but she didn’t dare voice the question. The less attention on her, the better. She understood her place as a pawn in Bossman’s grand schemes, and since she was used to such treatment, it was wiser to be a mere on-looker. It did make her wonder if Micahel also used to being a pawn for others.

Once dinner had ended, Bossman had asked her to join them in the study. He wanted her to show Michael her magic and explain how it worked to him. Jessie followed them and watched as Bossman poured himself and Micahel a glass of whiskey. She was grateful to be excluded from the offer, since she did not care for the fiery beverage. She didn’t understand the draw to the drink. They both sat and began sipping, while looking expectantly at her.

“Well?” Michael asked in an unimpressed tone. “Let’s see it already.”

Jessie swallowed her quip, knowing it was not the time nor place for it. Instead, she focused on the manaforce, particularly on his glass. In her mind, she saw what she wanted to do and manipulated the manaforce to do her bidding. To anyone looking in on the situation, she was merely glaring at Michael, when suddenly, his glass ripped from his fingers and floated gently to the table beside him. She had wanted to dump the liquid in his lap, but once again, thought it best to not be petty.

“You–you did that?”

“Who else?” she remarked, seeing Bossman’s approving smile.

“A wonder, isn’t she?”

Michael looked between the two, reading Bossman’s expression easily. “Can you demonstrate again? How long have you been practicing? What else can you do?”

“Uhh,” she stalled, trying to gauge how much information to actually tell them. “I can do it again. What do you want me to do?”

“Is it only moving stuff around? Is there a weight limit?”

Jessie shrugged. She hadn’t tried anything too relatively heavy. Looking at the chair that Michael was sitting in, she then focused on both its manaforce and Michael’s own manaforce. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself picking it up, as if it were as light as a feather, and as if she was merely pulling a string upwards to lift it from the ground. Moments later, Michael was shouting in astonishment because, though he was still sitting in the chair, it was floating in the air.

“This is incredible!” he called out, his eyes wide.

“Truly spectacular,” Bossman mused.

Jessie set him back down, and felt herself grow tired. She wasn’t used to the effects that magic had on her, and she hadn’t built up a strong magical stamina yet. She’d been working on it daily when she could, but she could tell that she still had a long way to go.

“We’ll meet up tomorrow so that I can learn more about what you can do,” Michael said, recognizing her fatigue.

Jessie nodded and then politely excused herself and retired to her room for the night. The other two had mentioned needing to go over a few plans, so she had more or less been excused anyway.

She sighed as she sat down on the bed. Her thoughts turned uneasily as she recounted the day's events and everything she’d learned. Jessie didn’t like the idea of those creatures roaming the grounds at night in order to familiarize themselves with their scents. The fact alone made her shiver with discomfort. It meant that Bossman had no intention of pausing his plans with the creature army he was forcing Michael to create, though he had agreed to let her come up with an alternative idea. It also meant that she, in retrospect, was on ‘their’ side. She was seen as one of them, and Jessie wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. Since the moment she had run away from the palace, she hadn’t felt like she belonged anywhere. She didn’t fit in with the maids, no matter how hard she worked, she hadn’t fit in as Oliver’s assistant, and she definitely didn’t fit in there at the Undergrowth. She was a chameleon, always changing her appearance just enough to match her surroundings. She didn’t have roots or security.

Jessie laid down, her back on the comfortable mattress, and she stared up at the ceiling. She thought about her magic, and what the scope of it might be. It was then that the idea hit her. She had manipulated the chair to rise up, but she had also dipped her metaphorical fingers into Michael’s manaforce as well. She wondered if she had somehow also manipulated him as well. And if so, then that was both interesting and concerning at the same time. It meant that she could possibly control people. This made her even more uneasy. Shaking her thoughts away, she focused instead on getting ready for the night. She knew that Michael would have a lot of questions for her, so she needed to figure out how much she would tell him before she accidently slipped up. Jessie knew she had to keep it a secret that she might be able to control people’s manaforce.

As she climbed into bed, she fell into a restless sleep, which seemed to be the only kind of sleep she was able to get lately. Her dreams were chaotic and choppy, and it wasn’t until she heard a creaking from outside her door, that she fully woke up from the images that plagued her. Jessie sat up straight. A loud creak sounded again, followed by a raspy breath. Something was outside of her door. The handle started to turn, but slipped several times.

On the fourth attempt, it turned all the way and slipped open. Jessie had forgotten to lock the door. And as the door slowly creaked open, a huge, shadowy figure entered the room. Its scarred face and gaping maw full of razor-sharp teeth seemed to smile at her. She froze. It looked at her with its single, yellow eye. It seemed mesmerized by her. Then, it took a tentative step forward, gauging her reaction. Or seemed to. Jessie remained where she was, clutching the sheets. It took another, and then another until it was hovering over the bed, over her. She stared at it as it stared back at her.

“R…R….Ra…” it attempted in its gravely, raspy tone.

Her eyes grew wider. Jessie was unaware that these things could talk. If they were from dead animals and people, then how could they speak?

“Ras–” it tried again, seemingly frustrated with itself.

She then watched as it pointed at itself in the chest with one of its unusually long, clawed fingers. Looking at it, she realized that she didn’t feel as scared of it as when it had attempted to enter her room the other night. If it had wanted to hurt her or eat her, it wouldn’t be calmly standing over her bed. It would have done so already.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” she asked quietly, partly wondering if she herself was crazy.

It nodded.

“You understand me?”

It nodded once more.

“Ras…cal…”

“Is–is that your name?”

It nodded and then smiled at her.