Honorbound (2 page)

We each picked up one of the grocery bags Mom had brought in and followed her into the kitchen.

“So, what were you doing with the sword?” I asked her as we unloaded the bags.

“The sword? Your birthday present? I didn’t do anything with it. Why?”

“You had to, the blade was out when we got home.”

“It was out?”

Anger had crept into Mom’s voice. She reached up to push a can onto the shelf.

“I told you if you took it out you weren’t going to see it again until you’re 18.”

“What? I didn’t do it. I was at school. If I had why would I tell you it was out?”

Mom turned to face me.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but—”

She didn’t get the chance to finish. Her purse swung around and smacked the vase on the counter. It slid right off to smash into pieces on my bare foot. I shouted in pain and jumped back. The floor was splattered with crimson, the flowers lay in the glittering wreckage of the vase. I looked down and saw the six inch shard of glass jutting from the top of my foot. That’s when I fainted.

When I came to Mom and Sarah were pulling me up to take me out to the car. Thankfully Mom had yanked the glass out while I was still unconscious. My bandaged foot left a trail of red dots as they helped me hop down the hall and into the elevator. I closed my eyes for what felt like a second once we were in the car and when I opened them again we were at the hospital.

It didn’t take them very long to see us, and I was wheeled off to get stitched up. I couldn’t watch while they did it, but at least I didn’t feel anything. Whatever they gave me for the pain was great.

“Are you ok?” Sarah asked when Mom wheeled me back out to the waiting area. “Oh, that looks awful.”

“They numbed it so it doesn’t hurt anymore. He said I’m allowed to walk on it as long as I’m careful not to burst the stitches.”

Mom went off to finish whatever papers they needed to let me go home while Sarah counted my stitches.

“Between this and the desk this morning you’ve been having a pretty bad day today,” she said. “You must be cursed.”

I remembered the lunatic from the auction.

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s like you’re cursed. Why?”

I slipped my hand into my pocket and curled my fingers around the crumpled business card.

“Nothing. I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick, let Mom know if she comes back.”

Sarah looked concerned as I climbed out of the wheelchair and hobbled off but she didn’t object. I turned the corner into the hallway and walked past the door to the men’s room pushing the door to the stairs open instead. I smoothed the card out as best as I could and then dialed the number on my cell phone. A quick call couldn’t hurt.

“Hello?” he answered before the second ring.

“Hi, I’m… I was at the auction yesterday and… I’m sorry, this is crazy.”

“Are you the one that bought the sword?”

“I just… I thought…”

“Are you the one that bought the sword?”

“Yes.” Something in his voice was starting to scare me.

“Whatever you do, do not unsheathe the blade.”

I’m not sure if he could hear my heart pounding over the phone, but my silence must have told him enough.

“You already took it out didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He swore under his breath. “We have to meet. We have to talk in person.”

“Meet? I don’t even know you.”

“Somewhere public, somewhere safe. We need to talk.”

“This was a mistake.” I started to hang up.

“Bad things have been happening, haven’t they? Accidents. You’ve gotten hurt. The sword won’t stay in the sheath either will it?”

If he couldn’t hear my heart pounding before, I’m sure he could then.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. Four o’clock at the coffee shop on the corner of 6th and Vine.”

Before I could say anything more he hung up.

Mom was waiting with Sarah when I got back. I don’t remember what we talked about on the way home. All I could think about was the phone call and my meeting tomorrow. As soon as we pulled up to the apartment Sarah jumped out and raced inside to let her Dad know where she’d been.

Most of the groceries were still on the counter. She offered me dinner as she put them away and cleaned up the glass, but I just didn’t feel like eating. I didn’t bother putting the sword away this time, I just left it lay there on my dresser.

I’m really not sure when I fell asleep, I could’ve laid there in the dark for hours staring at the blade or maybe just a few minutes, but it was morning before I realized.

For one blissful second, when the daylight through the window first pried my eyes open, I thought all of it might have been a bad dream. The stabbing pain from my foot killed that right away. I went through the motions getting ready for school, absentmindedly shoveled down breakfast and hurried downstairs to meet Sarah.

She gave me a weak smile when she saw me come down the stairs and we started off to school.

“Are you alright?” I asked. “You look like you’re getting sick or something.”

“I’m fine.”

“I have to meet somebody later at the coffee shop by school, will you come with me?”

“Meet somebody? Who?”

“Just, somebody. Will you come?”

If I told her who I was meeting she would think I was crazy. She stared down at her shoes.

“No. I can’t. I’m grounded. I have to go right home after school.”

I couldn’t understand why she sounded so angry.

“Is this ‘cause you got home late last night?” I asked. “I can have Mom call your dad.”

She might as well have not heard me. We walked the rest of the way in silence. I couldn’t understand it but it seemed like she went out of her way to avoid me the rest of the day. I didn’t have much chance to worry about it though. As it got closer to last bell all I could think about was my meeting.

I didn’t see Sarah leaving after school, but I guess with how she was acting that didn’t surprise me. I checked my phone. Three thirty. I was going to be early. It only took me a few minutes to get there, so I ordered a coffee and sat down. The waiting felt like forever, and I thought about going and walking around the block once to calm down. Before I could get up, he came in.

He was wearing the same wrinkled tweed suit from the auction. He had thrown a tie on, probably to look more sane, but it only accentuated his disheveled hair and rumpled suit making him look less sane than ever. I waved as he scanned the room. He practically ran to the table to sit.

“You’re the one with the sword?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why a kid?” he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and pushed his thin—rimmed glasses back up his nose.

“Look, I’m going to tell you something extremely important. It’s going to sound crazy. I realize that, but you have to hear me out, ok?”

I nodded. I didn’t like where this was going.

“The sword is cursed.
Honorbound
. If you draw the blade from its sheath you cannot return it there until it has taken a life. The longer you wait the more impatient the sword gets. Accidents will keep happening, until…” He looked away.

“Until what?”

“Until it takes the life it requires from you.”

I didn’t know what to say. “You’re crazy. Completely crazy.”

He slammed his fist on the table. “This is not crazy! I’ve seen it!” He paused until everyone stopped staring and returned to their drinks. “Alfred. My colleague Alfred Stamford, that thing killed him.”

“Stamford?” The name sounded familiar. “You mean the guy that got…”

“Beheaded?” He winced. “Yes. We found out about the curse too late, by then bad things had already started to happen. Accidents. Each one was worse than the last. We tried just drawing blood, sacrificing animals, none of it worked. Alfred refused to kill anyone, and he died for it. The same thing will happen to you.”

We stared at each other in silence. He was crazy. He had to be crazy. A curse? It was ridiculous. Even so, there were whispers in the back of my head. I swear I had put the sword away. The broken desk, the vase, the grisly end of this Stamford guy. I shook my head.

“So, you’re telling me that if I don’t kill someone, I’m going to die?”

He nodded. I stood up from the table.

“I can’t believe I ever started to buy into this. You want me to kill someone. You’re insane.”

I slipped by him and stormed to the door. I heard his chair sliding over the bells of the door but I was outside before he could follow me.

It was a good thing Sarah hadn’t come. I decided not to tell her about any of this as I stomped off the curb into the street. Then I heard the horn.

I remember the next few moments in clips, like watching a slide show. I see the giant flat face of the city bus bearing down on me. I’m hit in the back by something, hard. I see a corridor of dark blue sky between the buildings. I hear screeching tires, and a wet thud that I’ll never forget. Then I was getting up off the sidewalk.

The bus was stopped where I had just been standing. Its face and the street around it were painted in crimson. The man in the tweed suit lay crumpled and broken before it. His glasses were at my feet.

That bus was going to kill me. That bus was going to kill me and he shoved me out of the way.

A crowd started to gather as the driver and passengers poured out of the bus. I didn’t know what to do. So I ran.

I had never run like that in my life. I didn’t stop the whole way home. There was no time to wait for the elevator, my feet only touched every third stair. I barely got the key into the lock. Only once I was inside, my back pressed against the door, did I let myself breathe. Could it be true? Could everything he said have been true?

The apartment was quiet. Mom must’ve been working late or running errands. I needed to tell someone. I needed advice. I needed Sarah.

This time I took the elevator to catch my breath. When the doors opened, I thought I heard yelling from down the hall. The door to Sarah’s apartment was cracked open. I started to knock then heard a crash from inside. I shoved the door open and ran in.

Sarah was curled up on the floor in the living room, sobbing. Her hands were covering her face but I could see a trickle of blood creeping through her fingers and dark purple bruises welling on her arms. Her dad stood over her, fists clenched. An end table lay on its side behind them, the lamp and the rest of its contents scattered across the floor.

Her dad turned to me when I ran in.

“What do you want?” he yelled.

His voice was thick and heavy, and I could smell the alcohol on him from the hallway. I tried to find something to say, but nothing came out. He lurched over to me and grabbed me hard by the back of the neck.

“This is none of your business.”

He threw me into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind me and I landed face first on the carpet. My stitches throbbed. I don’t think I really felt the pain though. All I could see was Sarah. Her sobbing. The blood leaking between her fingertips. The bruises. The look in her eyes.

I was in my room. I don’t remember if I took the stairs or the elevator, but there I was, in front of my dresser. In front of the sword. My knuckles went white as they tightened around the hilt. I do remember the trip back up, I took the stairs two at a time.

I could hear him yelling again. I rattled the door. He had locked it. There was a thump and another wailing sob. My good foot came up and slammed the door, tearing the chain off its mounting and ripping a chunk from the frame. I didn’t know I could do that.

Her dad eyed me as I stomped back into the living room, blade in hand, and he laughed.

“Oooh, the big man went and got a knife. You gonna cut me big man?”

“Don’t touch her.”

He sneered.

“Or what? You gonna stop me? I know you. You ain’t got the balls.”

My eyes met Sarah’s and her dad started laughing again.

“Besides,” he said, “she’s my property. I brought her into this world, and I can take her out.” He snatched the lamp off the other end table and lifted it over his head. Sarah cringed, waiting for the blow. It never came.

My shoulder slammed into him first, then the point of the sword slid between his ribs. Our momentum carried us into the wall. When we hit, the sword kept going until the guard met his chest. I let go of the hilt and jumped back. My heart was pounding. What had I done?

Her dad was still breathing, barely. The blade had gone completely through him pinning him to the wall. The red stain on his shirt crept larger and larger. Sarah pulled herself up into a sitting position. I yanked hard on the hilt and her dad slid to the floor as the blade came free. I couldn’t explain it, but the blade was clean. Not a drop of blood on it.

He started laughing again, between ragged gasps.

“I guess you did have it in you. And all for what? For that?” He glared at Sarah. “You’re the reason she’s dead. You know that? If it weren’t for you, my Allison would still be alive.” He spat blood at her. “I wish you were never born you disgusting little bi—”

I didn’t let him finish. My swipe opened his throat clean back to his spine. Blood splashed across the wall and dotted the couch and ceiling. He didn’t laugh after that. I dropped the sword on the floor and went to Sarah. I wrapped my arms around her and held her until she stopped sobbing.

What had I done? Sarah had stopped sobbing, but now I was shaking.

I had murdered someone. What was I going to say? I was protecting Sarah? It wasn’t me it was this cursed sword of mine? I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison. I told Sarah to wait there and ran down the stairs to our apartment.

I slammed the sword back into its sheath and threw the whole thing into the back of my closet. I would’ve tossed it into the dumpster then and there, but if the police dug through it they would find it. I’d do it later. My chest was heaving by the time I was back in Sarah’s apartment.

She was standing over the bloody body of her dad, kicking it as hard as she could. I grabbed her and spun her around and she latched on to me again.

“Thank you,” she whispered into my shoulder. “What are we going to do now?”