Part 16

I step through the doorway looking over my shoulder, back towards Old Jenny, and run into something.  I snap my head around and get a mouth full of Mary’s hair.  It all happens in that moment.  I blink, trying to dismiss Cyrus from my vision, but in that instant when my eyes are closed, Freak Beans and Dairy Mary disappear.  I open my eyes and Cyrus is still there, acne scars and all.

“Nice to see you again Charlie,”  Cyrus says. 

Tall, probably six foot two, I find myself looking at the bridge of his crooked nose.  I lift my gaze, meeting his steel blue eyes with my own.  I break first, taking a step away, my back coming up against the door.  He smiles, snorts, and takes a step to the right.  I take the opportunity to step away from the wall, turning as I do so and so does he, like some obscene dance.  “How can I be of assistance Cyrus?”  I ask him.

He runs a hand through his stringy, shoulder-length brown hair, “That woman,” He nods at where Mary had stood, “is she with you?”

I am acutely aware of the wind whistling from his nose with each exhale as a couple of answers run through my mind, starting with what woman.    I decide upon a more smart-ass approach though, not my brightest idea.  “Apparently, she’s with Freak Beans.”

His flesh stings my cheek, the crack of his hand slapping me echoing back from the grey concrete walls.

“Boys, if you are going to fight, take it to the Graveyard,”  Jenny shouts from within.

He motions for me, “After you,” he says with a sinister smile. 

I reach into my pocket, and he grabs my arm. 

“You’re not leaving yet, are you?  Things were just getting interesting.”

I pull away, pull my hand out with a cigarette .  He lights it before it has made it to my lips.  I watch as the smoke curls away from my mouth, wondering where the breeze is coming from. 

“You know what I want, do you not?”  He says, straightening his blue dress shirt.  Half the buttons are missing, exposing the greying undershirt beneath clinging to his thin frame. 

“A queen,” I reply, blowing a stream of smoke towards him and watching it float away on the unseen breeze.  “But why?”  I ask.

He snorts.  “Control, what else?” 

“But what about the curse?”

“Do you think some paltry curse scares me?  I am destined to be the king down here, as my ancestors were before me!”

“What?”  I say, coughing on the smoke I had just inhaled.  I toss the cigarette aside, listen to the sizzle as the glowing tip lands in the small rivulet of filthy water that runs down the center of the tunnel. 

“Where do you think the Spheres came from?  My great grandfather used to be the King, but that was too much for some people and that witch-“

“I can hear you you fool.  Both of you get in here,” Jenny yelled. 

I immediately do so, turning my back to Cyrus, pulling the screen door open and entering Jenny’s again, letting go of the door behind me, not paying attention of Cyrus’ location.  I smile as he curses when the door swings shut on him. 

I seat myself in the same chair I had occupied a few minutes prior and look at the old woman, who appears to have not moved, despite a cup of steaming brown liquid in front of her.

“First Cyrus, lets make sure you are not omitting anything.  Your great grandfather Samual was a tyrant, demanding taxes from those who had none to give, roughing them up when they failed to pay.”  Jenny begins her own tale and I lean back, trying to ignore the whistling coming from two chairs over, where Cyrus sits.

“Yes, but-“ Cyrus starts, but Jenny holds up a hand and stops him.

“You started this on my front lawn and now you are going to let me finish it!”  She lifts the cup, a beige ceramic mug with at least two large chips missing from the rim, takes a sip and smiles as the steam hits her face.  “Your great grandfather, and his whole brood for that matter, were nothing but a bunch of bullies that held sway over this domain through fist and blade.  And then they met their match.  Twelve men rose up from beneath the tattered clothes they wore, broke the chains that held them as nothing more than servants to Samual, and those twelve men took back their freedom with fists and blades of their own.  And as they stood over the expired form of their oppressor, they vowed that a time such as that would never come again.  It was then that one of the twelve, a man everyone only knew as Father, produced the Sigil Spheres from a burlap sack upon his back.  He gave one to each of his companions, keeping the final one for himself.  He told them of the powers they held in their hands, and also told them of the curse, that if one of the twelve should ever rise up and take a newly fallen queen, the powers would be extinguished, and that darkness would fall over the land, as another time such as the reign of the tyrant Samual would be upon them.”

I looked from the calm face of Old Jenny to Cyrus’, who was trying to hide a smirk.

“And you believe all of that, do you?”  Cyrus asked.

The old woman cackles, “You began to say it yourself out there.  ‘That witch…’  That Witch what?  That witch conspired with the Father to take Samual down?  That Witch provided the very blade that caused the mortal wound to your great grandfather?  Or how about That Witch made the very orbs you cling to, the very power which you try to manipulate day in and day out so that you can regain the throne your ancestor once held.  I can see through you, Cyrus Adair!  And I will oppose your very existence if I have to!”

I look back at Old Jenny, trying to process what she has just said, and am blinded as Cyrus uses his own Sigil Sphere to disappear.

“It is no matter, Mary knows what she must do now,”  Old Jenny smiles her gap-toothed smile and I am left to wonder what that is.