Page 8 of Cursed Alien

“Abandoned?” She looked up from her map and frowned at the old woman. “Is it dangerous?”

“The stones themselves? No more than any crumbling structure. But the place has a reputation. Some say it’s haunted.”

She couldn’t help a small smile. “By ghosts?”

“By something,” Agatha said, her tone unexpectedly serious. “Even the Vultor give it a wide berth.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You think my father might have run into trouble there?”

“I think,” Agatha said carefully, “that if your father strayed from the main path for any reason, that area would be… unpredictable.”

A chill ran down her spine despite the warm tea in her hands. She wasn’t superstitious by nature—mechanical problems had logical solutions—but Agatha’s warning carried weight.

“I still have to go,” she said firmly as she set down her mug.

Agatha sighed and withdrew a small object from her pocket, placing it on the table between them. It was a compass, its brass case tarnished with age but the needle still swinging true. “In that case, take this with you. It belonged to my husband.”

“Mrs. Ashworth, I couldn’t?—”

“You can and you will,” Agatha said firmly. “The mountains can disorient even experienced travelers. This compass has never failed.”

Hesitantly, she picked up the compass. It was heavier than it looked, the brass warm from Agatha’s pocket. “Thank you. I’ll return it when I come back.”

“See that you do,” Agatha said, rising from her chair. “And Bella?”

“Yes?”

“If you encounter any Vultor, remember they’re people, not monsters. Speak clearly, meet their eyes, and show no fear. Fear is what they smell first.”

She nodded, tucking the compass carefully into her pocket. “I’ll remember.”

Agatha moved toward the door, then paused.

“One last thing. The keep I mentioned—it stands on a ridge overlooking the river. Be particularly cautious as you pass. The one who dwells there is… not as he once was.”

Before Bella could ask what she meant, Agatha continued: “Follow the main path. Look for your father along the way. But if you must approach the keep, do so in daylight, and make your presence known before you enter.”

She frowned at the old woman. “You speak as if someone still lives there, but I thought you said it was abandoned.”

“An abandoned building can still be inhabited,” Agatha replied cryptically as she stood. “Safe journey, Bella. I hope you find what you seek.”

Picking up her basket, Agatha walked briskly to the door, then paused on the threshold. “One last thing. If you find yourself at the keep, remember that appearances can deceive. Not all monsters are what they seem.”

Then Agatha was gone, leaving behind only the lingering scent of herbs and the echo of her cryptic warning. The old woman knew more than she was saying—that much was clear. But she’d given her directions, and for now, that would have to be enough.

She took a quick look at the clock and sighed. It was already past midday, but although it might have been wiser to wait and set out in the morning, her increasing feeling of urgency wouldn’t permit it.

“Hold on, Papa,” she murmured as she began to gather supplies for the journey ahead. “I’m coming to find you.”

CHAPTER5

The beast paced the cold stone floors of the keep, his claws scraping against the smooth flagstones. Rain lashed against the high windows, the storm’s fury matching the turmoil in his fragmented mind. Lightning flashed, illuminating the grand hall for brief moments—revealing crumbling tapestries, overturned furniture, and the wreckage of what had once been a noble home.

My home.

The thought came unbidden, a flash of clarity in the beast’s chaotic consciousness. This place belonged to him, yet he couldn’t recall why. Images flickered through his mind: banners hanging from these walls, voices echoing in these halls, laughter, argument, pride.

Pride.The word resonated, triggering a fresh wave of pain behind his eyes. He snarled, shaking his head in a vain attempt to dislodge the memory.

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