Aoife and Demon : Cursed be the Syhlain by Shamila Ghyas & Humeira Kazmi

It was closing time for the ice rink. The already thinning crowd disappeared until it was just a large vacant disc of ice asking me for a dance. But I went over to my duffle bag and fished out a screaming cellphone. My face involuntarily twisted into a frown at the name on the screen.

“About time you picked up, Eva! What use is a cellphone if you don’t use it? Might as well give it up and save money!” Nancy’s sharp voice pierced through from the other side. “And aren’t you aware of the dinner banquet tonight? Must I remind you of every social engagement that is so important for your future?”

“Hello Nancy,” I said, swallowing the urge to correct her for distorting my name every time she took it. “How was your day?”

“I want you home in five minutes, Eva! How long do we have to wait for you to sail in so we can serve dinner?”

“Nancy, please. This is the third banquet this week.”

“This is the most important one I’m holding and it’s triply important since I lost that contract with Hannity Steels. All thanks to you, of course!”

“He tried to feel me up.”

“Oh, you’re always overreacting!” She spat. “It was just harmless flirtation.”

“Oh, really?” My words came out in a sharp hiss. “One more harmless incident like that and you’ll lose more than just a contract.”

“Threatening me won’t gain you anything, Eva. It’s bad enough I have to worry about you driving alone at odd hours. I’ve decided to put an end to that. From tomorrow, Henry will drive you wherever you wish to go.”

“I’d rather ride the bus than have that old goon of yours tagging along. You just want to keep tabs on me.”

“Well, the bus is your choice, sweetheart, if that’s what you want.” There was a hint of laughter in her tone this time. “Please hurry back. We’re all waiting for you.” Click!

I flung the cell back in the bag, but it bounced off something and fell to the floor. I didn’t pick it up.

Witch!

Vicious images swirled in my head as I recounted the extent of evil Nancy was capable of. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then returned to the ice rink.

A new song was picking up and I swayed to its various beats. The ice worked with me as my skates traced a complex path across its glassy surface.

The ice was my friend. The moment my sharp skates touched it, I soared, and it twirled and swirled with me. I flew. I could reach the stars while I danced on ice. Everyone who had ever seen me skate had told me that I looked beautiful when I skated.

I felt beautiful too.

I’m ready to go

Release my wings

And I will shine

I’m gon-na FLAAAAAAA-A-A-AYE!!

So HAAAAA-A-A-AYE!!

With my toes on the floor but my head in the sky

I’m gonna FLY!

The song broke into a crescendo.

I jumped. Went for a double axel and nailed it. Then again and nailed that one, too. I was a bit breathless, but not done yet. I was spinning, bending my body and stretching my arms and legs in all sorts of angles, so fast that my mind seemed to be sitting outside of my body and telling me I’d melt with all the heat I generated in that ice beneath my feet.

I slowed down and finished off cleanly with both feet on the ground and scrambled back to the stand for a few quick gulps of oxygen. I planned to be back out in a few minutes. I wasn’t going home. Not tonight.

“That was awesome!” An echoing voice startled me. “The ice seems to cradle you wherever you spin!”

He was sitting a few rows above me. A tall frame awkwardly dressed in a big black coat and a wide sunhat that hid his face. A sunhat in December? At night? His voice had a soothing quality.

“Thanks.” I said, trying to steady my breath.

“That’s a beautiful tattoo you got there on your thigh.” His comment was frank but didn’t sound unpleasant.

“It’s not a tattoo,” I said.

“A birthmark then?” Something in his voice invited me to tell him more.

“Unusual sort isn’t it?” I smiled. “My dad told me everyone at the hospital raved about the baby with a red crescent on her thigh.”

“I wouldn’t blame them.” He chuckled, got up and sauntered to the edge of the rink to join me. “Hi. I’m Azure.”

“You’re blue!” I heard myself say. And he was. He had a perfectly toned, smooth and glowing face the color of the blue tang.

“No, it’s Azure, and yeah, that means blue so in a way I am blue.” He chuckled again. “And it’s not face paint by the way.”

“You mean your skin is blue?” I stared at his hands which were the same color. “You’re blue-skinned?”

“Shouldn’t you be home? It’s late.” He tilted his head. “Your mom might be worried.”

His sudden concern threw me off.

“Why do you care?” I shot him a cold look. Face paint or not, he was definitely one of Nancy’s goons sent to drag me back to the house so she could use me to charm her guests. The fact that I was now tired and craved my bed made me frown deeper. Perhaps, it was time to pack up and – sigh! – go home. “Fine. Tell her I’m coming. And don’t even think about driving me there. I know my way home.”

“Her who? Tell who you’re coming?” He did a good puzzled expression.

“Your mistress, the lady of the house, of course!”

“Oh no, there’s no Mistress,” he spoke quickly. “Only the Master, and we don’t want him to know you’re coming because…uhm…you know he may not understand.”

I stared at him.

“Oh, here.” He reached into his pocket and dug out a small piece of something and thrust it into my palm. “This will get you to him. You certainly can’t drive to Volttus!”

“What are you talking about? What is this?” I looked at the object in my hand. It was a necklace with a pearly white rectangular pendant the size of a mini Kit Kat.

“This is the Red Pearl,” he said. “It can take you anywhere you wish, in a flash! But that will only last for one night. Tonight. I’m not a master of spells you see.” He smiled sheepishly.

“The red pearl?” I stared at the white bar. “And…spells.”

He grinned again and nodded. Clearly, delusional. He couldn’t be Nancy’s. Must be one of those eccentric junkies living under the bridge not far away from the rink. Maybe looking for a shelter in the cold night. The necklace looked expensive. Maybe he was paying me to let him stay indoors? He must’ve known I owned the rink. I should tell him there was no need –

“And tonight,” he said, “you need to go to Demon’s room and when you do, you will need to…he’ll…he may not be so nice so, uhm, pluck a strand of his hair.”

Yep, he was high. And with great storytelling skills too. It wouldn’t be awful to play along and listen for a bit.

“It’s important. It’ll make you immune to his charm.” He clasped his hands and looked at me as if making sure I understood.

“Of course,” I said. “Go to the demon’s room and pluck a strand of his hair. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.” His blue face lit up with a smile. Then, he jumped onto the ice rink and somersaulted all the way over to the exit on the other side, climbed up the wall and squeezed out through a half open window – like Spiderman – or an actual spider because I could’ve sworn there were more than four limbs involved!