Curse Breaker Omnibus

by Melinda Kucsera

  Besides, all he needed was an escort with Litherian blood to get him past the protections in and around the mountain. And both Sarn and his son had Litherian blood in their veins. Not a lot, but enough that those protections would react to it. Since they lived somewhere inside that mountain, they would head for it eventually.

  “But you can’t pass through the two rings of standing stones.” Sarn nodded as if this all made sense.

  J.C. shook his head. “No, I can’t, not without help. But you’re not going to the mountain. So, I’m offering a trade. I’ll get you where you need to go in seven blinks of an eye—” J.C. paused as his turn of phrase dragged a surprised laugh out of the boy, then continued before his father could decide against it.

  And Sarn was leaning toward rejecting his offer. Distrust was written in his every line. To him, it sounded too good to be true, but a budding curse breaker was wedded to the truth.

  “—Then back again and you’ll help me cross. That is my bargain, no more, no less. All you must do is take my hand.” J.C. extended his hand and his offer.

  Ran extended his delighted by the whole arrangement, but his father was more reticent, as he should be.

  “Let’s go, Papa. It’ll be like when Bear jumped us around. It was fun—except for the monsters chasing us. But they’re not chasing us now.” Ran’s brow crinkled at the mention of Bear and he glanced around for that worthy. “Where is Bear? I called him when the bad thing came for you. Why didn't he come?”

  “Maybe he was busy.”

  Ran looked skeptical, but his explanation was plausible. What did they know about that ghost—nothing.

  “Let’s go. I trust him.”

  “You trust everyone,” Sarn replied.

  Though Sarn kept his gaze on J.C., he felt his son’s indignant frown and the silent, ‘do not,’ emanating from him. But Sarn wasn’t ready to trust anyone even on his son’s say so especially not someone as puzzling as J.C. Though part of him wanted to trust this generous offer. His whole left arm was throbbing now from the Adversary’s mark. Reaching the Queen of All Trees faster would get him some much-needed relief. But his offer sounds too good to be true.

  There was one way to tell if J.C.’s offer was genuine—he could submit it to the part of him that couldn’t lie. Sarn braced himself for the truth and repeated the terms of their bargain verbatim and was shocked when his magic let it pass his lips unchanged. He stared at J.C., astounded.

  “You’ll take us to the Queen of All Trees then back to Mount Eredren?” he asked because it just wasn’t sinking in.

  “Yes, I promise I will. Take my hand and we’ll go. You might feel a little strange. I’m not sure how this spell will interact with your magic since both come from the same source, but I assure you, it won’t hurt you or your boy.”

  “Do it, Papa. I want to go.” Ran leaned forward to connect their hands, but Sarn turned away.

  There was something about J.C., but those fathomless dark eyes he fixed on Sarn made him want to trust the man. Could he?

  A cross flickered just at the edge of sight. It was here then gone again but its weight bowed J.C.’s shoulders.

  “Who are you?” Sarn backed away, taking his curious son with him. There was something unsettling about J.C., but not in a bad way.

  J.C. shrugged. “Just a traveler like you.”

  “What’s that you’re carrying?”

  “We've all got crosses to bear, some heavier than others.” His smile never faltered. “Will you accept my offer?”

  Her call was a whisper in the wind, fading every moment Sarn stood there, and that dark voice was gaining in volume. How long before he couldn’t fight its summons at all?

  “You swear we won’t be harmed?”

  “Yes.”

  Just to be safe, Sarn repeated that under his breath but wasn’t surprised when his magic let the assurance pass unchanged. J.C.’s sincerity was genuine—what a relief. Sarn took the proffered hand and the world blurred then stilled.

  “Ah, where is this Queen of yours?” J.C. looked at him sheepishly.

  “Oh,” Sarn called up his head map. Strange how quiescent it had been. Usually, it was a curious puppy nosing its way into everything he did unless he blocked it out. His map spawned at his summons and centered on the spot where Shade had died a month ago. A silver tree symbol stood in the middle of that copse, beckoning to him.

  “She’s three miles that way.” Sarn pointed north-northeast as grief tightened a noose around his neck.

  J.C. nodded, took his hand and the forest dissolved into smears of greens and browns.

  Villar lobbed another rock at the chasm, but like the hundred before it, the stone disintegrated when it struck the shield. This is futile. I can’t break through no matter what I do. He slumped against a boulder. Cris, Gore, and Ragnes had all gone down into the pit hours ago. Neither had returned. If the Adversary could be believed, they were all alive.

  And he did believe. They couldn’t all be dead. If there was a chance his friends were alive, he’d keep trying to break through. Though what he’d do after that was still a mystery.

  Villar shoved a hand through his tousled hair and grimaced. Dust had mixed with sweat turning his dark hair into a sticky gray mess. His clothes weren’t in much better shape and his stomach cramped from hunger. Villar hefted another rock to distract himself from the thirst burning his throat. There was no water in here and his canteen had gone dry hours ago.

  It’s too bad you can’t get water from a stone. If I could, I’d have more than enough water to drink. But alas, that was not to be.

  “I could give you water,” said a sibilant voice from somewhere nearby.

  The torch had burned out a while ago and any lumir he’d brought had been extinguished by its antithesis at the start of this mess. So he lobbed the rock in his hand at the shield. It flared up and destroyed it, momentarily lighting the area around the yawning chasm. Nothing moved. Then everything went dark as the shield became invisible again.

  “Who said that?”

  An eye opened inside the stones under his feet. It was as wide as he was tall and glowing a soft blue.

  “I see your pain, taste your worry and know your fears. Your friend lives. Does that comfort you?”

  Villar tried to speak, but no words came. His throat was so dry. He worked his tongue around his dry mouth to moisten it. “You said ‘friend’ singular. Are the rest of my friends dead?”

  A second eye opened, and their combined stare pinned Villar in place. “Only one of your friends is down here. I know nothing of any others.”

  The eyes receded into the solid rock he sat on, proving it wasn’t corporeal. Which was possible given all the weird things that had happened since he’d stepped into the Ægeldar. Unreality ruled here with a vengeance. So, did darkness. It closed in on Villar as the creature vanished from sight.

  Everyone wanted something. No one gave away information for free. Everyone had an angle or an agenda. What did this creature want? I’m already damned. What’s another deal if it’ll save my friends?

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Wait. How can I save my friend?”

  The eyes reappeared closer than before. Blue light lit the piles of rubble around Villar.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Enormous teeth flashed in a snake’s smile. “Through here.”

  A tentacle reared up from below and the ground Villar sat on disappeared. He fell into blue-tinged darkness chased by the echoes of his screams and the inhuman laughter of the creature. Past tentacles tracing lines in the choking black fog creeping across the underside of that shield, he plummeted.

  Things moved in it. Eyeless sockets tracked him as shrunken heads popped out of the fog. A few wisps of gray hair clung to their wizened foreheads, and their lipless mouths shaped the rhyme chewing on his sanity.

  “Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools lost with tools and bloody drool. Oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool, ‘nea
th the land where tyrants rule!”

  “What are you?”

  As those skeletal creatures ringed Villar, they repeated their chant, but none stuck out a hand to stop his fall. They were enjoying taunting him while he dropped through the choking fog deeper into the pit. I’m going to die.

  “Cris? Gore? Ragnes? Anybody?”

  No answer. Villar coughed as the mist thickened and invaded every part of him. Sparks flew off him and a shimmering cord unwound from inside his core. As it did, it darkened, unraveling Villar until he was nothing but a falling ember, burning out in the cold wafting up from the pit.

  It can’t end like this. Villar blinked but there was nothing to see. The fog was everything and he was becoming part of it.

  “Of course, it can. This is my turf,” said the beast in the pit. Tentacles thrust through the fog, brushing past Villar on their way to the top. “Your soul might belong to the Adversary, but he has no claim on your body. And it’s your body I need.”

  I wish I’d never come here. I wish I’d never heard of black lumir, Villar thought as the black lumir crystal swept the last cinders of magic from his body, emptying it.

  That’s what all life is—a container. Too bad I had to die imprisoned under a mountain to learn that bitter truth. The Ægeldar caught Villar’s body and lowered it to the ground.

  A quick check proved Villar was alive. His chest still rose and fell with breath, good. I don’t want you dying just yet. I can’t have you rat me out to your true master.

  Villar's body was almost ready to receive its new host, but not yet. There was one more thing the Ægeldar needed to do. He sent scores of tentacles up and their tips danced in the air under the shield, weaving the black fog, magic’s antithesis, into an inversion of a spell.

  “Come, sinner, thy time is nigh,” sang the Adversary, and the Ægeldar’s laughter echoed off the black lumir crystals poking out of its decomposed spine.

  Snakes and Menhirs

  Greens and browns streaked past at nauseating speeds then they slammed to a sudden halt. Sarn sank to his knees and fought to keep the contents of his stomach inside where they belonged.

  “Why’d we stop?” Ran squirmed out of Sarn’s arms and tugged J.C.’s sleeve, but the man remained silent and staring back the way they’d come—at Mount Eredren.

  “Did something happen?”

  Oh, Fates no, Miren, my brother is back there. Sarn stamped the ground in frustration. How could I forget my brother?

  J.C. nodded then pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. “A voice cried out then was suddenly silenced.”

  His cross flickered into view as it swelled. J.C. dropped to his knees, forced down by the weight of his burden. A twisted black crown appeared on his head and its thorns pierced his brow sending rivulets of blood down his brown face.

  “We’re losing time. Hasten on your errand.”

  “What about you?”

  “I need to rest a moment. Go see your Queen. There may be more at stake than I realized. I’ll follow when I can.”

  “No, stay here. I’ll find you. I’m good at that.” Sarn rose and captured his son’s hand. He checked his map and was unsurprised to see a cross symbol next to the white star of his son. Ran looked up at him.

  “Will J.C. be okay?”

  “I think so, son. We won’t be gone long. She’s close by.”

  Ran nodded. “Which way?”

  Trees surrounded them. They were so dark and quiet, they didn’t seem enchanted, but how could they not be? That black, magic-stealing mist had only affected the Lower Quarters, hadn’t it?

  “Stay by my side. Something feels off about the forest.”

  “This is the enchanted forest? The one you told me about?” Ran grinned in excitement and felt around in his pockets. After a moment’s search, he withdrew two glowing fuzzy balls—the seeds Sarn had given him last month.

  Sarn nodded and pushed the rising tide of grief down. Now wasn’t the time for it to drown him in sorrow. Since Shade’s death, he had not set foot in the forest. The Rangers had found plenty of reasons to keep him out of it.

  His gaze kept bouncing off the serrated tips of branches angled in their direction. Had he banished all the demon’s taint? Or were some of the trees still infected?

  “If I tell you to run, don’t stop for anything. Go straight back to the mountain and find your uncle. Mount Eredren is three and a half miles that way.” Sarn waved to their back trail.

  “Why? Nowhere’s safe, but I’m safe with you.” Ran pocketed the seeds.

  Sarn blinked at his son’s unexpected insight, but the boy was right. There was no completely safe place and that was at the top of his list of things to fix.

  “All right but stay close to me and don’t touch anything. We’ll be quick and quiet as mice.”

  “You mean rats, like Rat Woman. Do you think we’ll ever see her again?”

  “Maybe, son, that’s up to her.”

  Taking one last breath to steel himself, Sarn stepped deeper into the forest alert for anything.

  “We’re on an ad-ven-ture?” Ran hopped up and down in delight.

  Sarn rubbed his face. “Yeah, I guess we are, but it’s just a short one then we must help J.C., okay?”

  Ran gave him a distracted nod as he bounded past but was drawn up short by their linked hands. Ran’s enthusiasm lasted about a half hour before his energy flagged and he turned to Sarn with his arms raised above his head.

  “Up, please?”

  “Tired already?”

  Ran nodded as Sarn scooped him up. “Where’s the Queen Tree?”

  “The enchanted forest is a big place. She could be anywhere, but I think she’s beyond that line of trees.” Which raised a more important question—why couldn’t he see her? She usually dominated the skyline when she was present.

  But her light was either dimmed or extinguished because other than the late afternoon sun sending golden spears through the leaves blotting out most of the sky, his eyes provided most of the light they saw by. The cold hand of grief squeezing his heart tugged Sarn back to where it had all ended last month. Back to where Shade had died.

  Where else would something go wrong but on the exact spot where an abomination had meddled with unclean magic four weeks ago?

  “How big is it?” Ran wriggled in his grip until he could look straight up into the dark tangle of greenery above.

  “Thousands of miles, maybe even a million, I’m not sure if anyone’s ever measured the whole of it. Legend says it used to stretch from the Frozen Sea to the Cape of Storms. Many races dwelled under its canopy—men as white as clouds and blacker than pitch and every shade in between.”

  “What are those lights?” Ran pointed at something above their heads.

  Sarn tilted his head back to look. Indeed, bubbles of light flickered and flashed across the interweaving boughs. In each flicker, chains of symbols appeared as bursts of information shot from branch to leaf. Are they announcing our arrival?

  “It’s magic, isn’t it?” Ran grinned and clapped his hands at the brilliant display.

  “Yes, it is, but that’s not all it is.”

  But as Sarn hiked northward, the lights ceased jumping from tree to tree and the trees lost their luster then they dimmed and finally went out as he slowed. Memories rose, and his throat closed. There, that patch of leaves, was where Shade had died.

  Blood had leaked from misshapen lips, and Shade’s chest had risen and fallen with difficulty. Shade’s hand had been cold like a thing made of ice and regret, and he could still feel its touch.

  “I love you—wanted you to love me.”

  Sarn blinked the memory away. For a moment, Shade lay there dying all over again. His ex-friend’s hand grasped after his, then grief banished the specter. Sarn kicked the leaves. No sign of what had happened a month ago remained. Not even a lingering taint thanks to his magic. He should be glad but seeing the clearing so full of life hurt his heart.

  “You, stupid fool! I would ha
ve helped you. Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “Papa? Who are you talking to?” Ran wrapped his arms around Sarn’s neck and his touch broke the spell the past had woven over him.

  “I was talking to someone who’s gone away.”

  “You mean Shade.”

  “Yeah, kind of stupid, huh? It’s not like he—she—can reply. Gah, I don’t even know what gender my best friend was.” Sarn leaned against a tree too tangled up in grief and anger to care if he was making sense. “What a joke our friendship was.”

  “Shade was Shade.” Ran shrugged.

  “Yeah Shade was but now Shade’s gone and—” Sarn stopped speaking.

  Moaning broke the thoughts circling in his head. Someone was hurt and in need of aid. His Ranger training kicked in and kicked out the grief tearing him up inside.

  “Papa?”

  “Shh, I heard something.” And it wasn’t J.C., though that worthy’s symbol had moved a tenth of a mile closer on his map.

  Sarn rounded the tree he’d been leaning against and played the glow of his eyes over the giant trees ascending a rise. Their bark drank in its light. Shadows lay between their trunks so thick not even his eyes could pierce them. Beyond them, more trees leaned at crazy angles. It looked like a storm had blown through here, but he would have heard about such a storm. He was only a little over four miles from Mount Eredren.

  “What happened here?” Ran’s head turned taking in the sight with interest.

  “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

  Inari skidded to a halt before she crashed into Ranispara’s arm. “What in God’s name is that?”

  “I have no idea. Come on,” Ranispara pulled her behind a menhir, and her skin prickled.

  Magic swirled on the air, raising the hairs on the back of her neck, but Inari mashed her lips together to keep silent and crouched shoulder-to-shoulder with her dearest friend, her only friend, truth be told. She seized Ranispara’s arm. Ranispara wasn’t haring off without her again, no way. They were in this—whatever this was—together.