Curse Breaker Omnibus

by Melinda Kucsera

  Ran didn’t like his reasoning but he was the parent, and the doorway wasn’t wide enough for two.

  Sarn swung the door open, revealing chaos. Books littered the floor, and more fell to join the expanding pile. At least fifty rats speed-chewed through the pages, consigning all that knowledge to their digestive tracts.

  An enraged reptilian creature swiped at the rats with her needle-sharp claws. Her very existence offended his magic. White light flickered around his fist right before he drove it through the Snake Woman’s chest.

  Her torso dissolved as he reclaimed the power holding her together. She melted into a steaming gray puddle at his feet, and he felt better. A greenish orb rested on his palm then it sank into his skin to rejoin its brethren, and his magic was whole again.

  “What’s happening?”

  Ran tried to squirm past him, but magic leaped off Sarn’s hand and curved around his son, distracting the boy.

  “Everything’s okay. I just took back something that was mine.” He patted his son on the head and met the eyes of the man shaping himself out of—spiders? Had Insect Man run out of ants and flies already?

  Insect Man held up both hands in surrender. “It’s over.”

  “Is it? It feels like this is just beginning.”

  Shade’s creation stared at his glowing fist. Sarn relaxed his hand, but the white magic clung to his fingers unwilling to let go. “Will she return?”

  Insect man turned compound eyes on the puddle in question. “I don’t know. The rules of our existence are rather ill-defined.”

  “Understandable given the situation. Why’re they eating the pages?”

  “How else can we destroy them?”

  “Don’t you need those books?” Sarn touched the wall, and his magic spread over every surface. On his head map, multiple thirteen-pointed star icons faded as the rats chewed.

  Insect Man shrugged. “Too risky, remember who made us. There are things in those books that could hurt you.”

  Their warped loyalty was hard to swallow, so Sarn ignored it. “What will you do now?”

  All the rats stopped chewing and fixed beady eyes on Sarn. As the last summoner’s symbol winked out, the rats scattered. They scrambled up the shelves and disappeared through gaps in the collection. An army of spiders followed.

  A second later, no trace of either construct remained. White flames melted back into Sarn’s hand since they were no longer needed.

  Ran tugged on his trouser leg. “Can we go now? You promised me breakfast.”

  “Yeah,” Sarn said, still shocked they’d interpreted his question as a threat. Had he meant it as one?

  Moaning interrupted his introspection. Not his son, Ran was okay and scowling at the delay. Then who was hurt and in need of aid?

  Sarn followed the moaning to another cave and stopped on its threshold repelled by the evil miasma assaulting him. It stank of blood and death. His sixth sense skittered away from that chamber and refused to enter. But he had to go inside. Someone was hurt in there.

  Ran dug his heels in and shook his head. “This is a bad place. We have to go back.” Ran looked around with fearful eyes and shuddered. “I don’t like it here.”

  “I know, and we will go, but I have to do something first.”

  “What do you have to do?”

  “Something bad happened to Shade here, and I have to fix this place so what happened to Shade can’t happen to someone else. It’s so wrong here.” Sarn echoed his son’s shudder.

  Unnatural, corrected his magic and it was that too.

  “This is where Shade got claws?”

  Ran’s question caught Sarn off guard. He swung around to face his bemused son.

  “When did you see claws?”

  Ran looked at his toes and shrugged. “When you were sleeping. Shade told a nice story. But it didn’t end right.”

  Sarn massaged his temples, but it did nothing for the ache stabbing him between the eyes. He’d forgotten about that night. His magic had tried to warn him then too, but he hadn’t listened. From now on, he would. It was a better judge of character than he was.

  “Help me,” said a male voice Sarn recognized.

  Swallowing his misgivings, Sarn entered. He found the blind man he’d talked to less than twenty-four hours ago bleeding out by a cairn.

  “So, it was you. I wasn't sure when you came the first time,” said the blind man. Blood seeped from a dozen scratches crisscrossing his torso. It looked like Snake Woman’s work, and he was glad he’d slagged her.

  “I'd have told you more, but I didn't know it was you.”

  “By 'he' you mean Hadrovel?”

  The blind man nodded. “I didn't think you were still alive. Mages, especially male ones, die young and childless.”

  “Why?” Ran had perked up at the mention of ‘father’ and ‘children.’

  “I don't know. Bear in mind, I'm basing my theory on myths and legends, so it might have a few flaws.”

  Sarn digested the blind man's response and set it aside for later consideration. “If I'd asked the right questions, what would you have told me?”

  “What do you remember about the incident?”

  Sarn rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart where the pain of Shade's betrayal still throbbed. What Shade had lived with for six years boggled his mind. “Just bits and pieces—I wasn't well at the time.”

  “In deference to the boy, I'll keep my narrative factual. You don't need all the gory details. They've haunted me for six years.” The blind man paused as he felt for his cane. His hand landed on a cairn, and he grimaced. “There was a group of us. Black magic is easier to access for the non-magically gifted because it's derived from pain, blood, theft—you get the idea. Since it comes from without not within, it’s usually a group effort.”

  Ran retreated until he backed into Sarn’s legs. Sarn laid a hand on his son's head.

  The blind man’s fingers grazed his cane and closed around it. He probed the ground around him in search of his interlocutor. But Sarn had stayed close to the door just in case this was a trap. So far nothing had convinced him it wasn't.

  “But we wanted more power than what the group of us could pull together.”

  “There are thirteen of you.”

  “Yes, there were, but I’ll get to them in a moment. One of us came up with the idea of harnessing demons. You know what a demon is?” His sightless gaze settled on another cairn.

  “No, but I can guess.”

  Sarn counted thirteen cairns arranged in a loose circle. Beyond them, stood a crumbling enclosure. Sarn stepped over the blind man’s swinging cane and rested his hand on the broken wall. Ran clung to his pants, hiding his face.

  “Well, it’s a nasty creature. The lowest order of them is naught but shadow and will.”

  “Where do they come from?”

  Sarn circled the remnants of the cell and pushed his index finger through a chink in its masonry. This was where they had kept him and Miren during the ritual. Ten feet away from it, Sarn squatted down and scratched at the wax puddles. Candles had stood here, one hundred and sixty-nine of them or thirteen squared.

  As he ran his hand over the hardened wax, his hand numbed from the cold. Shade had stood here. Sarn blinked, but a tear rolled down his cheek, tracing the scar Hadrovel had left. It dripped onto the spot and froze. Fell magic, antithetic to his, lingered in the stones breaking their pattern.

  “Another plane of existence, a lower one than ours according to the lore. But no one knows for certain.”

  “Why did you summon one?”

  The blind man picked at his robes. A thread had come loose. Twisting it around his index finger, he yanked. It broke, and so did the blind man’s voice. “Since we couldn’t use your magic, we used you as bait. We knew an innocent lad like you would be irresistible to such a creature. If you weren’t enough of an inducement, we had your brother too.”

  “You hurt my Papa?” Ran looked back and forth between them and clenched his littl
e fists.

  “I didn’t, but we needed blood for the ceremony—” the blind man’s voice trailed off, and his unfocused gaze turned sorrowful.

  “I’m all right. I recovered. This happened years ago.” Sarn patted his son on the head, but Ran remained tense. “Go on. What happened next?”

  “One of your friends must have seen us grab you. This friend found out about our plan and switched places with the host we'd prepared. But we didn't find out until halfway through the ceremony when all hell broke loose. Before I lost my sight in the backlash, I saw the demon break down the walls and carry you off. You were unconscious by then. We had to drain you pretty far to power the spell.”

  “What do you mean by backlash?” Maybe Sarn sensed a fell echo of the spell’s final act of destruction in the stones.

  “There must be balance. Otherwise, the magic tries to equalize itself with disastrous consequences.”

  Balance, Sarn liked the word. So did his magic. Both types sat up and took notice.

  “What happened to the others?”

  “Most died in the backlash. Your friend was supposed to die so the demon could inherit the body.”

  “And those who survived?”

  The blind man shook his head. “The experience broke their minds. I cared for them as best I could to atone for my part, but they died of the Fade.” He tapped his cane but stopped when it thwacked a boulder. “Why did you come here?”

  “Because I have to cleanse this place.” And Sarn knew how to do it, with her light.

  He drew her calling card using the tears streaming down his face as a shimmering ink. Glowing motes floated in his tears lending their power to the summons. Sarn traced one hundred forty-three circles inside a greater circle.

  When he'd finished, he had drawn one hundred forty-four circles over the spot where the candles had stood using one infinite curving line. For she was life and the great chain of being.

  Sitting back on his heels, Sarn looked up as the ceiling parted and her silver light filled the chamber. Thirteen cairns sighed as thirteen ghosts rose from them into her brilliance. The Queen of All Trees’ let down her roots in a luminous cascade, and they slithered along the floor. With the tip of one, she brushed a tear from his cheek.

  “It’s the Queen Tree.” Ran chanted as he threw his arms around a root as thick as his torso. “The one from your story Papa.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “What Queen?”

  “He means the Queen of All Trees.”

  “She’s here?”

  “Yes.” Before Sarn could rise and guide the blind man to her, she found him.

  Breaking into a beatific smile, the blind man dropped his cane and felt along her root. He followed it to the chamber’s wall where she curled a root into a stirrup. The blind man stepped onto it, and she raised him, allowing his hands to graze her refulgent bark.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Sarn pushed to his feet.

  “To complete my atonement,” the blind man tilted his head back and basked in her light, smiling. “It’s time I moved on to the next world.”

  “What next world?”

  “Death is a doorway I’ve longed to walk through. On its far side, even I can find absolution. And this lovely psychopomp has come to lead me on.” The blind man took hold of the branch she brought within reach then climbed on.

  “I don’t understand.” Sarn shaded his eyes. The blind man was a silhouette against the Queen of All Trees’ radiance.

  “Someday you will. Time answers all questions.”

  Her crown flared until it rivaled the sun. When her effulgence backed off, the blind man was gone. Sarn blinked tearing eyes then snatched Ran away from the Queen of All Trees.

  “But I want to climb her.”

  “You can’t. You have to stay with me.” Sarn hugged his squirming son.

  “Why? She won’t hurt me.”

  “Because I can’t lose you.” Sarn would go mad if he did.

  Ran had no counter for that argument.

  The Queen of All Trees bowed to him, then her roots receded.

  “Bye bye, I’ll see you soon,” Ran waved to her retreating profile as the two halves of the ceiling rushed back together. A white flash erased the seam leaving the ceiling whole again. Ran twisted around to look at his father. “This was a nice ad-ven-ture. But can we have breakfast now?”

  Sarn laughed and set his son down. He should have seen that one coming. Pivoting, Sarn scanned the chamber. Had he fixed everything? The place felt cleansed, so maybe he had.

  Ran tugged on his pant leg. “Breakfast Papa, you promised. We had our ad-ven-ture. Now we eat.”

  “Okay, let’s go raid the farm.”

  Ran’s eyes lit up, and the boy charged out of the chamber. “I ‘member where it is. Come on Papa. I’ll race you.”

  “Wait, you have to stay by my side.”

  As he chased his son, Sarn withdrew a sack from his pocket and checked his map for witnesses. He jogged passed the decimated library but didn’t look inside. He didn’t see the hand reaching out of the silver blob nor the fanged mouth surfacing. It was parted in silent laughter.

  Ran ricocheted around the farm picking all his favorites. With luck, all the back and forth would tire the boy out. When the sack could hold no more, Sarn signaled his son to stop, and they headed for their cave. Something about it still felt off, and the feeling increased as Sarn pushed open the door.

  Miren was still sound asleep, and he felt a pang of guilt for keeping his brother in the dark about things. But the grief was still too fresh. He needed a few days to grieve then they’d talk.

  After removing a new collection of the Queen of All Trees’ leaves, Sarn boiled the rest of the oats in a pot. He scanned the cave seeking anything Shade’s passenger might have left behind. But everywhere his eye landed looked as it always did.

  Sarn breakfasted with his son on fruit and oats, leaving the rest for his brother. Afterward, he washed out the bowls and made a circuit of his domain. What the hell was different? Sarn glanced at his son about to ask the question when he saw it—a circle enclosing a star with thirteen rays. Shade had scratched it into the rock under a pile of Miren’s clothes. Anger boiled in his gut. His son had been in danger. Sarn rose and stamped his heel on the symbol.

  Black splashed across his vision as its fell power touched him. Eam’meye erator, whispered the voice as if he needed further confirmation of its evil intent. Curse-Maker.

  Unnatural, complained his magic, and Sarn told it to shut up.

  “What are you doing?” Ran sat by a pile of the Queen of All Trees’ leaves.

  “I found something I need to fix.”

  “You have to finish the story.”

  “What story?” Sarn glanced at his son, perplexed at the sudden turn their conversation had taken.

  “The one about the Queen Tree.”

  “You saw the end back at the farm.”

  “You saw her before. I want to know where and why.” Ran threw a handful of luminous leaves at him.

  “It’s a sad story.” Sarn rubbed his burning eyes, and grief tightened his chest.

  “No, not sad, you came back.” Ran fetched his bear and blanket in anticipation of story time.

  “But other people didn’t.”

  The Queen of All Trees’ leaves formed a shining half-moon around Sarn thanks to his son flinging them about the cave. He fingered one of them, and an idea took shape. He knew how to cleanse his cave.

  “Why?” Ran asked when the silence went on for too long.

  “Bad people hurt them.”

  “You hurt the bad people?”

  “No, the forest hurt the bad people.”

  Ran blinked and tried to wrap his mind around that and failed since no magicked trees grew on or in the mountain.

  “When did you see the Queen Tree? Before the farm, I mean.”

  The glow of her leaves comforted Sarn. It felt like she was right there listening. Maybe the smallest part of he
r stayed connected to her august presence despite the separation. Sarn pushed the leaves until they formed a circle. He wanted her sign on his cave to drive out whatever Shade had left behind and protect his loved ones.

  Ran joined him, and a delicate, lacy pattern emerged on top of the symbol Shade had made. When Sarn joined the one hundred and forty-fourth circle, his magic infused the design.

  Ran’s eyes shone with joy and excitement as Sarn held him away from the light shooting up from the leaves. A smile tugged his lips as her power flooded the room and burned out the taint left by the demon, Zair. The Queen of All Trees’ blessing settled on his cave replacing sorrow with joy.

  Ran tried to touch the bright columns uniting the floor and the ceiling, but Sarn maintained his grip.

  “Why can’t I touch it?” Ran twisted around to glare at Sarn until the light entranced him again.

  “Because you’ll interrupt it, and I don’t think you should.”

  “Why?”

  Sarn sighed, not this again. He thought he'd exhausted his son’s inquisitiveness earlier.

  “It’s not a bad thing.” Ran renewed his squirming.

  “No, it’s a good thing.”

  “Then I can touch it.”

  Great logic but no, this working needed to stay as it was. Her light rippled then revealed the Queen of All Trees on a beach. Behind her, a swath of green marched up a hill. Before her, an ocean blurred into a distant horizon, and a ship plied its waters. Twenty-five ghosts plus the blind man waited on shore.

  The dead boy climbed down one of the Queen of All Trees’ branches and rushed to stand with his family.

  Shade also perched on one of her branches. Still veiled in gray, his friend raised a hand in greeting, and their gazes met for one last time.

  “Why didn't you tell me what was going on? I could have helped you.” Sarn let go of his son to wipe away the tear sliding down his scarred cheek.

  Death silenced any reply Shade might have made, but his former friend’s eyes begged for forgiveness.

  Sarn nodded. “Of course, I forgive you, you stupid fool. You were my best friend.”