The Unseen Curse by Zachary Jeffries

Author:Zachary Jeffries [Jeffries, Zachary]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-07-27T23:00:00+00:00

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The sound of Dad’s keys woke her, and June still didn’t have her wits about her when he walked into the house. Lightning flashed and June saw spots but heard footsteps and… chains? The world became visible again and June saw him - normal, tubby, scruffy six foot two inch Dad, only he was surrounded in golden light, a shining, pulsing aura in the shape of the giant furry monster she saw outside the Bonhomme farmhouse.

The look of the thing startled her and she had to remind herself she wasn’t in imminent danger. Dad was in there, like he was walking within the ghost of a giant beast, or inside some sort of hologram. The monstrous aura’s eyes shone blue, as did Dad’s behind his ghost veil. He lumbered to the closet, each step punctuated with the clanking of heavy metal, chains manacled to paws. The beast made of light moved in tandem with Dad, its bright shining eyes sharing his focus. And the animal mouth, displaying big canine teeth, moved along with his words. “What are you still doing up?” he growled sternly at June while removing his coat and kicking off muddy boots.

“I wasn’t up, I was just…waiting to make sure you got home okay.” She realized she wasn’t lying. Until he walked in that door, June was afraid that the giant bear at the Bonhomme’s might have attacked her father.

“Well, you need to be in bed,” he said without looking at her as he shuffled down the dark hall.

“Okay, Dad. Goodnight. I love you.”

“Goodnight,” he said before closing the bathroom door behind him.

It was almost too much for her, being so distant from Dad, especially now that there was magic in the world. And Chelsea! So many amazing things going on in her life that she couldn’t talk to him about. Her eyes were hot and tired from crying so much today, her face numb, her throat swollen and sore, her body begging for bed, to forfeit the fight for Dad until morning.

But she had to try.

She knocked on the bathroom door, rapping the beat of “shave and a haircut,” something she and Dad did ever since they watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit together forever ago.

“What?!” he roared from the other side of the door.

“Dad?” Her voice scratched out of her raw throat. “Can I show you something?”

He swung the door open, his bear face snarling, his furry spirit taking up the entirety of the little bathroom, his human bulk in an old dirty tank, the belt to his wet khakis undone. “What is it, Juniper?”

Without saying a word, she handed him the scrying watch, the beads tapping against one another in her hand. Looking at the bracelet, then at her, Dad said in protest, “I’m tired, Juniper.”

Pushing the scrying watch closer to him, she said, “Just look at it. Tell me what you see.”

His jaws flexed as he clenched his teeth twice before snatching it from her with his big right paw. He threw a dead stare down at the thing, working the beads in his fingers.

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