The curse of Kalaan (12 page)

Kalaan, who was slowly getting his strength back shook his head mockingly and said in lovely crystalline voice, “How utterly perfect! The small hours of the morning with my family.”

At the sound of his new voice, the screams got even louder.

Chapter 8

Outrageous Catherine

             
“
F
or god’s sake, shut up!” shouted Kalaan when he couldn’t take any more. The fatigue from the transformation, and his mother and sister’s screaming was more than he could bear.

Silence came when the women fainted, most likely from lack of air. They couldn’t possibly have managed to breathe with all those screams and it was hard to believe such small lungs could have so much power. Salam caught them, one in each arm, before they could reach the floor.

“My brother, I would like some assistance, if you don’t mind.”

“I should tell you to assume responsibility for your actions; you did not have to tell them the truth so abruptly. But, it they are my mother and sister, so…”

Kalaan lifted Amélie and carefully placed her on a chair near the fire. Despite having a feminine appearance, he still had the strength of a man. Salam did the same with Isabelle, his dark eyes scrutinizing her sweet face, so peaceful at rest.

“I feel as if I’ve been thrown back in hell.” Kalaan, oblivious to Salam was fulminating and pacing back and forth between the women. A minute later he continued, “I come here, to
MY
isle, hoping for a moment’s peace, but no. They are here, and the butterball is with them! Everything is getting worse and to top it all off, you have most likely put them in a state of shock!”

“The truth is less hurtful than a lie. They will recover more easily from the shock.” Salam spoke with the voice of an expert. “The worst is past, and your family will be of precious assistance in this difficult time.”

Kalaan shook his head and his dark hair fell down over his slender shoulders. He grabbed his trousers just in time to keep them from falling.

“I must find a belt,” he complained, stamping his foot like a girl. He was going to look for a belt when he felt trembling fingers on his wrist.

“Kal?” gasped Amélie. She had regained consciousness and was calmer despite the tears in her eyes. “Is that really you?”

Kalaan’s heart ached at the sound of her voice.

“Yes mother,” he said as he kneeled at her side, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Amélie examined him closely, but out of curiosity, not fear. She raised her free hand to...her son’s face.

“You have Maden’s eyes… and Kalaan’s as well.”

“But, I am Kalaan.”

Amélie shook her head, holding back a gasp. “I’m not sure. You’re a…”

“A woman, yes, I know,” the young man mumbled with his high silvery voice. He flashed his famous sly grin and asked, “Would you like to play the secrets game? I know some very interesting stories as I’m sure you can imagine.”

The game had worked with his crew after all, so why wouldn’t it work with his loved ones? Amélie could not help but smile as she cupped Kalaan’s cheek. Breathing slowly and deeply, she sat up and frowned. She looked just like she used to when she scolded him as a child after he’d done something foolish.

“Tell me everything.”

“I want to hear the truth too.” Isabelle, who had just come to, chimed in. She was curious, but couldn’t hide her fear.

So, begrudgingly, Kalaan told them the whole story again, as he already had for Lil’ Louis and Salam on the frigate. He told them about Egypt and Champollion, about the strange building and the hieroglyphs, and what they discovered about Akhenaten. Then he told them about the golden chamber, the black pyramid and the curse. He deliberately left out his hellish adventure with the harpies. His mother and sister would certainly faint again or worse… start screaming again.

The silence was heavy when Kalaan finished his story. Amélie looked off into the distance while Isabelle gaped at her brother. Salam returned to his position at the window, hands behind his back.

“You became a woman because you are afraid of them?” Isabelle squealed before breaking into laughter. “Forgive me, but that is pitiful! Oh…” she gasped before breaking into laughter again.

Kalaan had braced himself for any reaction, but was not expecting mockery. The expression on his pretty face turned to stone and he shot angry looks at his sister.

Amélie came out of her reverie to speak again. “I knew that with your nasty temper and poor manners, one day you would irritate someone enough that they would punish you. But I never would have imagined this could come from ancient Egyptian gods! This must mean they are less patient than our Christian god.”

Kalaan was speechless. He thought he heard Salam laugh behind his back, but a quick glance changed his mind. The Tuareg’s face was as composed as ever as he looked off into the distance, contemplating the countryside. The minute the count turned back to the ladies, Salam let a brief smile appear on his lips. Of course, no one could see this because the fabric of his cheich hid his mouth.

“Pinch me, please! I must be dreaming,” Kalaan said unhappily. “Are you actually mocking me?”

“No, no, my daughter, of course not,” replied Amélie.

“My daughter?” Kalaan was extremely vexed! I am Kalaan Phoebus, the Count of Croz!”

“Only at night,” replied Amélie. “During the day, let’s see, you will be a distant cousin Kalaan brought back from his travels.”

Isabelle approved of her mother’s idea, but the young man grumbled even more, while Salam laughed quietly behind his cheich.

“He needs a name.” Isabelle was thoroughly enjoying herself, watching her brother squirm. He was almost suffocating with anger. Her revenge tasted so sweet; for she had long been kept in her place by her tyrannical older brother. She could still hear him saying,

“Don’t do this.

Don’t do that.

A young lady of good family should behave properly with my guests.

Don’t be so hot-tempered.

Go learn to sew and leave me in peace!”

Oh, yes, vengeance was sweet! Isabelle savored every instant, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
In fact, this curse was a good thing in the eyes of the young woman, and she was going to take full advantage of it.

“I think Catherine is a beautiful name.” Amélie smiled serenely. “It is the name I would have given my second daughter if I had been blessed with one. So Catherine, you shall be.”

“No,” shouted Kalaan stamping his foot.

“Catherine is perfect.” Isabelle was really amused.

“Do I not have my word to say in this house?” The count was shouting now and his voice was starting to reach the high notes.

“No,” replied mother and daughter in unison.

“Apparently I was worried for no reason. I thought you would be terrorized, or that you would reject me, but no, you seem to be managing this curse better than I am!”

“Men tend to overlook the capacity women have for adaption. In many ways we are stronger than you,” Amélie riposted.

“Hmph!” Kalaan’s reaction was scornful to say the least.

“We will take care of you, my… my daughter. Together we will save you, but we must know where to start.”

“I was planning to find the guardian of the stones.”

“Excellent idea,” Amélie said approvingly. “Jaouen is a druid after all, and what many take for insanity could actually be of use to you. But meanwhile you will have to act like a lady, and we must acquire appropriate clothing for you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kalaan’s jaw dropped.

“Dresses, my dear brother. You need dresses.” Isabelle answered her brother with a hint of spite.

“By a pure stroke of luck, we found your Grandmother Anna’s trunks while cleaning the attic,”Amélie told him. “You are tall and slender, as she was. Her clothing will fit you beautifully, once it has been cleaned.”

“Never!” Kalaan shouted, his face red with fury.

“What’s more,” Amélie continued nonplussed, “You will stay at the castle. Catherine cannot, under any circumstances stay under the same roof as
Monsieur
Salam or her reputation will be ruined.”

Salam, still standing at the window spoke. “Movement on the horizon.”

No one paid heed to his words. They were all too busy squabbling about the grandmother’s clothes probably smelling of mothballs and Kalaan insisted on wearing his own clothes and sleeping under his own roof.

The front door opened to Lil’ Louis shrugging his shoulders helplessly. He stood aside to let in a magnificent young woman wielding an ax over her head.

“Virginie!” Isabelle cried out when she saw her friend. She jumped up to greet her, but quickly froze. The situation was going to get very complicated.

Oh no, not the butterball,
deplored Kalaan to himself. He braced himself squaring his shoulders before turning round to face the newcomer.

Much to his surprise, instead of the plump little girl he was expecting, before him stood a vision of beauty, an angel with an aureole of long copper-gold hair, an angel except for one small detail... she was armed.

Kalaan was so stirred by her beauty that he dropped his trousers and they fell to his bare feet. Virginie in turn, was so surprised that she dropped the ax, which planted itself in the floor with a loud noise.

The next minute she was laughing. Her laughter was a rich, warm sound and Kalaan was completely enchanted. He didn’t even think to pull up his trousers, nor did he react to his mother’s words. He thought he was in heaven.

“Please accept Anna’s dresses, Catherine, my dear child. You really must dress correctly!”

“Yes,” Catherine said, under her breath.

Virginie tried with all her might to hold back the giggles that took hold of her when she entered the house and the strange young woman lost her unfortunate trousers. The scene was so bizarre that she couldn’t help but laugh. Yet the young stranger did not seem to be angry. In fact, she didn’t stop staring at Virginie, which the young woman found so disconcerting that she lost her sense of humor.

I am far too tired to control my emotions,
she said to herself, thinking of everything that had happened since Amélie and Isabelle left the castle earlier that morning.

At first, Virginie had stayed in the drawing room, pacing up and down. She’d wanted to escape the isle ever since she arrived, but it was too late for that now. Besides, she knew that one day or another she would have to face Kalaan again. He was, after all, her closest friend’s brother; and ever since Virginie’s father sudden brutal death the two young ladies had become inseparable.

After calling herself a coward and mentally shaking herself, the young Virginie decided to go back to her room where she quickly changed clothes. If she had to see Kalaan again, it would be in the best possible conditions and not in her nightclothes and a silk dressing gown. Her hair, she simply brushed and left flowing free down her back. She then put on her warm cape and boots and set off on her adventure.

And what an adventure! Once outside, she had to face the wind and rain, but she couldn’t see a thing, having forgotten to bring an oil lamp. Where would she find the dowager countess and Isabelle? The only possible place was the port; so she went in that direction as best she could. The path leading from the fortress down to the dock was steep and passed near the village. Virginie found it reassuring to be in a crowd of women, children and old people all going in the same direction. She followed the light of their torches and felt less alone. Once at the port she continued along the levee where the sailors were docking and shouting joyfully at seeing their families again. Long moments passed without seeing Amélie, Isabelle or Kalaan. Soon no one was on the levee except for a few lovers, slowly walking back to the village arm in arm. Could she have missed her friends in the crowd?

Disappointment and a sleepless night were getting the best of her, and the young woman wondered if she would be capable of climbing the long steep path up to the castle. In the early morning hours, as the sun was beginning to rise, she could see the contours of the majestic fortress with its towers. It was around eight thirty.

As she turned to admire the castle, Virginie literally fell into the arms of a little gray-haired round-bellied man.

“Lil’ Louis!” Virginie cried out with joy when she recognized her old friend. “What a pleasure to see you again!” And she hugged him as she had when she was just a child.

“Ma’mselle, please!” he exclaimed indignantly, stepping back to pull away from the friendly embrace. He had no idea who she was.

“Ginny, I’m Ginny!”

Lil’ Louis frowned, knitting his bushy eyebrows and shook his head.

“Virginie de Macy,” the young woman said with disappointment. “I’ve grown a little, and lost some weight, but it’s me!”

Lil’ Louis’ eyes widened suddenly and he grinned at her. “Ginny, of course!
Ma Doue,
yer all grown up now, and so beautiful!” They both laughed, but suddenly the old sea dog froze.