Damaged Gods

“No shit, Sherlock. Do I look stupid? I’m not going inside no creepy tomb.”

“And don’t fall for Pell’s sweet talk. He’s a liar. Everything he says is a lie.”

“That might be true, but why should I trust you?”

“I wanna help you. I just said. I want to put an end to this curse. And I can’t do that as long as you’re there. I need your help to break your curse—our curse,” he amends quickly—“but not theirs. Those monsters need to stay at Saint Mark’s. Invite me in, Pie. Get me back in and I’ll make it all go away. I’ll get you out. You can be on your way. Get your life back on track.”

I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anything he just said. And it’s not even the part about inviting him in that triggers this. It’s all of it. That last bit, that’s just the dead giveaway.

I put the amulet back on “No. I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing, but I will not be a part of this.”

I reach for the door handle of the Jeep, but Grant blocks my way. “You don’t really have a choice, Pie. You’re not in charge here.”

“I don’t have a choice?” I kinda laugh at that. Because in my experience there are always choices. Sometimes you only have bad choices to choose from, so it’s easy to assume you have none. But that’s not true. You always have a choice. So I say, “What are you gonna do? Kill me, Grant? Kidnap me? Will the curse let you do that?”

But Grant isn’t really listening to me. He’s distracted by the ring on my finger. I absently play with it and realize… it’s loose. I could take it off, if I wanted to. I could hand it over. I could let Grant take this problem of mine and make it his again. But everything about that feels wrong.

He’s watching me play with the band of silver around my finger like he’s mesmerized. I take it off, hold it between my fingers, then place it in my palm and offer it to him. “Take it. You want back in so bad, take it. We can trade places again.”

He does not reach for the ring.

“What’s wrong, Grant?” I’m baiting him, I realize. My tone is condescending, my invitation not even genuine. Even if he reached for the ring, I would pull back. I would not give it over. And I don’t really understand these things right now, but I know one thing for sure. I need to go.

I slip the ring back on and reach for the door, but Grant says, “Hold on. Just wait.”

“Why? So you can lie to me some more? I don’t know what you’re up to, but I do know I don’t want anything to do with it. Or you.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “So you like it there? You want to be stuck in a curse with those evil monsters forever?”

I shrug. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?” He guffaws. “You? Really? After thousands of years and dozens of caretakers, you will be the one to figure it out? That’s… ambitious.”

“So? What do you care? You’re free. Go. Be free.”

“I’m offering you the same. I’m trying to break the caretaker curse, Pie. That’s my motive here. To get you out and keep them in.”

“I don’t believe you.” But that’s not entirely true. Some of what he’s saying rings true. I can tell by the tone of his voice. The part about the caretaker curse. He does want to get rid of it. And maybe he even wants to keep the monsters inside. But there’s more to it than that. I can feel this like it’s a real thing in my hand.

Grant is still smiling. It comes off very fake. “What’s not to believe?”

“You want back in, Grant. That’s weird. Especially since I offered you the ring so you could do that, and you refused.”

“I’m trying to break the curse, Pie. If I take the ring, I take the curse. And that defeats the purpose of getting out of the curse to begin with.”

“You’re talking in circles. Nothing you’re saying makes sense.”

“I’m offering you an out. What part of that doesn’t make sense?”

“You want to hurt them.”

“Oh.” He guffaws again. “Oh. I get it. You’ve already become infatuated. Let me guess… Pell has given you a breath?”

“What?”

“The breath, Pie?” He must read something in my expression because he smiles wide. “I bet he told you he didn’t do magic, either? But then he did magic, didn’t he?”

I don’t want to admit that, so I say nothing.

“Yeah. He did. Well.” Grant shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “It’ll wear off. And then you’ll come to your senses and want what I’m offering you.”

“What are you offering me?” I ask. “Exactly?”