And by us, I mean someone other than me. Usually one of my brothers. But hey, it’s not my fault I still haven’t gotten the hang of my memory charm!
I’m trudging along and shivering in the damp forest air for some time before I become aware of the humming sound behind me. Curious, I turn around and raise my eyebrows when I see that the swarm of bees I summoned earlier is still trailing behind me like a lost puppy. Whoops. Things went to hell so fast back there that I completely forgot to release them. Digging my animal summoning charm back out, I murmur, “Creatures of the land, sky, and sea, I relinquish you from your service to me.” An instant later, the swarm of bees begins to dissolve, and the rather confused-looking insects buzz away into the forest. The charm would have worn off in time, considering it’s a bargain basement medallion that most trolls would probably turn their noses up at, but the last thing I want is to have a bunch of stinging insects following me home… even if they were on my side.
Tossing my long red hair back over my shoulder, I turn back around and continue to pick my way between the trees. Mental note, I think as I move past a bramble bush, its thorns scratching at my arms as I go, next time wait until you know the guy isn’t leaving the house. Hey, we all make mistakes, right?
Before long, I begin to hear the sounds of muffled voices, and a few more moments of walking bring me to a small clearing. There are bushes on the far side, and I can make out the faint shape of a dirt path winding away between the trees - that’s our ticket home, if Peyton doesn’t decide to have mercy on me and transport us back to civilization. John is standing by the road, backing up slowly and pointing accusingly at Peyton as he moves. “I don’t give a shit who you are,” he snaps. “I just want you to stay away from me, you… you… you freak of nature!”
Peyton sighs, rolling his eyes. “John, this would be a lot easier for all of us if you would just stand still for a moment,” he says.
“Like hell!” John exclaims. “Why don’t you tell me how you were floating first, huh? How about that?!” He catches sight of me and bristles, turning his angry gaze on me. “And what the hell were you doing back there? Why were you on my bike?”
I raise my eyebrows, a little surprised that he noticed while he was dangling over the edge of a cliff. “Believe me,” I tell him, “you really don’t want to know.”
Peyton shoots me a glance when he hears my voice. “Not now, Karma,” he mutters. “You’ve done enough damage here.”
I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to John. “Just hold still,” I tell him, savoring the barely-disguised panic in his expression when I say it. “This will all be over soon.”
“What are you-” John begins, but he hesitates, and that brief moment is all Peyton needs. His hand is already flying to his pocket, pulling out one of his own charms. I see him rub a small circle over its brass surface with his thumb, his gaze fixed on John, and moments later, the douchebag’s eyes are glowing a pale blue color, the same way Peyton’s spear did earlier. His shoulders slump, his jaw goes slack, and as soon as his eyes stop glowing, they glaze over, no more recognition in them. “What…?” he begins, looking around as if in a daze. “Where am I…?” His eyes suddenly widen, and he whirls around, his arms flying out. “The bees!” he exclaims. “My bike…!”
“Relax,” says Peyton. “Your bike is at the top of the ridge. There are no bees here.”
“How did I get here?” John asks, brow furrowing.
“You must have fallen over the edge,” Peyton replies. “You’re lucky you didn’t die. My sister and I just came across you. Follow this trail here, and you should get back to the main road.”
“I… Right,” John says, rubbing his forehead. “Okay. The main road. Yes…” Looking unsteady, he slowly turns around and disappears into the trees.
Peyton turns to me and crosses his arms. “So what are the chances of hitching a ride back home?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes and takes my hand in his. Within an instant, the world around us is dissolving, the colors shimmering and merging, and suddenly we’re back at the dropoff, a few yards away from the abandoned motorbikes. Peyton turns and begins to head back down the road, not waiting up for me. “You really mucked it up this time,” he mutters. “You’re lucky I was in the neighborhood.”
I shrug. “I would’ve just let him fall, if I were you.”
He turns to me and says incredulously, “You don’t really mean that, Karma.”
“Like hell I don’t,” I insist. “I don’t know what the guy did, but he was an asshole - that part was obvious.”
“Our job is to deliver karma,” Peyton reminds me. “Not kill people. We’re not death gods.”
“No,” I lament. “I think I’d make a much better death god, all things considered.”
He snorts. “We’re in agreement there.”
“So what were you doing around here, anyway?” I ask, crossing my arms as we turn the corner. Town shouldn’t be far from here.
“I got a guy who saved a stray cat from the highway,” Peyton replies. “Made him find a hundred-euro gift card.”
I sniff, but don’t say anything. It’s admirable, even if I can’t stand how saccharine the good karma always is. Why should people have to be bribed to do good things, anyway? Why shouldn’t they just… be good, without the universe patting them on the back and giving them a gold star? I guess that’s the cynical part of me talking, but I can’t help it.
I’m really in the wrong line of work.
Chapter 4
I continue to bicker with my brother as we continue on down the road in the direction of our home, asking him about his jobs for the day, complaining about some of my most recent charges, and speculating on what John might have done to deserve his most recent bout of bad karma. My money’s on cheating on his girlfriend, while Peyton suspects road rage. Either way, he seems to quickly tire of walking, as once we reach the outskirts of town, he pulls out his teleportation charm and tells me to take his hand again. I do as I’m told (a rare occurrence for someone like me, believe me), and after a moment of spellcasting, we are spirited off the main road. I think I’m finally getting used to the sensation of teleportation, although I’ll be happier once I’m able to do it myself. Like memory wiping, it requires some finesse, even when using a medallion, and I’m more the type of god to paint with a large brush, so to speak.
“You won’t tell anyone about the cliff diving incident, will you?” I ask as we appear on the pathway in front of our house. We live in a small village just south of Dublin, the kind of quaint old place that you might imagine as the setting of a fairy tale… which, now that I think about it, this sort of is. Peyton lifts his bushy red eyebrows at me and just shakes his head before he pulls open the small white picket gate and walks down the white stone path to our house. I’m taking his no answer as a yes, or at least hoping so - nothing wrong with thinking positive, right? I really don’t want to hear our younger brothers laughing over this or see our parents’ expressions of disappointment. This isn’t the first time I’ve bungled a job, and part of me wonders if one of these days they’re going to just give up on me altogether.
I gaze up at the house I grew up in, this tiny little place where I’ve spent so much of my life to this day. It’s not a good idea for me to live in an apartment or a small house somewhere yet. Humans would notice my lack of a job, or they could notice weird things that are magical happening by accident. Humans have a curious nature, and the last thing I need when I’m trying to do my job is someone poking their nose where it doesn’t belong. Mads is a different story - she lives by herself, and I don’t have to worry about her catching on to my magical doings. Besides, at the end of the day, I really don’t mind living with my family. We keep to ourselves, and the house is spelled - part of a renovation my parents had done when my mom was pregnant with me. The charm makes it much larger on the inside than it appears on the outside, such that each of us has our own room, and it’s easy enough to avoid each other in the aftermath of a siblings quarrel… or a botched job, like the one I just did.
The house has a brown cobbled stone exterior, small white panelled windows, and moss growing up the one side. It’s the very definition of cute little houses, and the very last place you’d expect a family of karma gods to live. The street is full of these little detached houses with long gardens behind them, all in neat rows. The only difference is that, while the others in the neighborhood are probably struggling for space, that’s something we never have to worry about. In front of our house is the local park, which was awesome to live by as a kid. My old primary and high schools are two streets over, and there is a row of shops on the other side of the village. It has everything you could want, and really, you don’t have to leave unless you want more than a humble life. All in all, it’s the sort of unassuming place that’s perfect for someone who wants to fly under the radar.
I cross my arms as the wind blows against me, making the god awful smell of pond water that much stronger. I need a shower like yesterday. As I walk through the door that Peyton left open, closing it gently behind me, I’m immediately struck by the smell of mum’s cooking, which is followed by the pungent undertones of polish. Something is up. Mum doesn’t get the polish out unless there is a good reason.
The house is warm, bright and relaxing from the moment you step inside. The paneled windows let in a great deal of natural light, and the antique furniture and carefully-curated paintings on the walls give it an air of homeyness- even, I suspect, for someone who doesn’t live here. Elsewhere in the house, I can hear my other siblings bustling about, most of them probably just returning from their latest missions. The sound of mum cooking filters into the front entryway, but it immediately silences the moment I let the door fall shut behind me.
Mum sweeps out of the kitchen like a whirlwind, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron as she stops on the threshold. I glance at her flowery top tucked into dark trousers and her dark red hair pulled neatly into a bun. Her eyes are like mine, big and green, but she is taller than I am - which isn’t fair, if you ask me. She puts her hands on her hips as she takes in my appearance, and looks as if she’s about to question me about it, but then seems to think the better of it, pursing her lips instead. Thank the gods for small favors. “Karma, there you are!” she says. “Where on earth have you been? And why are you soaking wet?”
I sigh. So much for that then. “Believe me,” I tell her, “you don’t want to know.” She eyes me incredulously, and it becomes clear that she’s not going to leave this alone. “I had a bit of an accident on my last job,” I mutter, breaking eye contact and scuffing the sole of my boot against the floor. “But it all worked out in the end - I delivered the karma. And don’t worry, don’t worry,” I add, putting up my hands when she opens her mouth to ask the inevitable question. “The guy’s fine. Not that he deserves it, if you ask me, but…”
Mum sighs and shakes her head. “What are we going to do with you, Karma?” she asks, and then shakes herself. “Well, at any rate, I’m glad you’re home. Your brother has a new girlfriend, and he is bringing her back for dinner. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Does she know what we are?” I ask, a little bit curious. “And which one of my dipshit brothers is this unlucky girl dating, anyway?”
“None of that talk in my house, young lady!” Mum snaps, putting her hands on her hips as I take my coat off. I don’t miss her frowning when she sees the state of the leather - stuck stiffly to my body, still damp and covered in green algae.
I put my hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”
