The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Sevana?” Decker came and knelt next to her, a worried Krause hovering behind him. Decker himself seemed slightly disturbed by her, either by her expression or the foul language coming out of her mouth.

  Gid came around on her other side and sniffed at her curiously. She shoved his nose away and commanded, “Wait,” holding up a hand to ward him off. Her eyes went back to scanning the information on the page. It made sense now—far too much sense. Running water had a power level of eight if it came from a pure source (which this apparently did), and reflected light (either sunlight or moonlight) had a power of two, but man-made artifacts, especially those dating back to the days of old magic, could have a power level of up to six. Added together, it came out to an insane power level of sixteen.

  The diagnostic wand gave her a few more tidbits of information—most of it useless—and then went still as it had nothing left to report. She put both wand and book down on the cold stone and resisted the urge to start cursing all over again.

  Decker kept darting looks between her and the fountain. After a long, uneasy silence, he dared to venture, “Is it the water that’s the cause?”

  “No,” she denied immediately. “Although it certainly isn’t helping. No, there’s an artifact of very ancient origin buried in the fountain itself. The water and the light around it is simply aiding the artifact and making it more powerful.” Alright, sitting here cursing fate and growling wasn’t solving the problem. She picked up everything and shoved it back into her pouch before regaining her feet, making Decker stand up with her or be left sitting awkwardly on the cobblestones. “Decker. You mentioned the building of this fountain on your timeline. When exactly did it happen?”

  “The final stone was laid in two days before the first sleepwalking incident,” Krause answered hollowly. “Sweet mercy above, we never thought the fountain would be the cause….”

  “It isn’t. It’s an artifact buried inside of it,” she corrected testily. “And the stones? Where did they come from?”

  “Oh.” Decker pointed northeast. “Remember the ruins I drew on the map? We often pillage stones from there to build things with. Most of the village is built from stones we scavenged.”

  Scavenged stones from ruins that no one knew anything about. Yes, didn’t that sound like a disaster waiting to happen. More wars and scrimmages over land rights had happened in this area of the world than almost any other. Countless civilizations and cities had risen and fallen and most of their records had disappeared along with them. Those ruins could belong to anyone from a saintlike religion to a cult of evil magicians. Who knew what secrets lay buried there!

  “Ah…” Decker watched her expression warily. “The artifact came with the stones, didn’t it?”

  She just glared at him, arms crossed over her chest. “What do you think?”

  “Oh.” Hunter and ombudsman exchanged glances. “Krause, maybe we’d better stop doing that.”

  “I think that’s for the best,” Krause agreed faintly. “Mercy! To think we brought this upon ourselves unknowingly. Artifactor, now what do we do?”

  Excellent question. Pity she didn’t know the answer.

  “I need more information before I can put together a plan. There’s someone that I need to confer with, but I can’t leave here until the other magicians come and I don’t have a way of contacting him without showing up at his doorstep.”

  Krause’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “But you know the cause?”

  “I don’t,” she refuted grouchily. “I know that a man-made artifact is at the root cause of this, but I need to know what kind before I can figure out how to disarm or destroy it. Unfortunately, all my wand could tell me was ‘origin unknown,’ which means that this thing, whatever it is, isn’t mentioned in any of the surviving records. At least, none of the records I have access to. Curse the luck.”

  “And this man you wish to see?” Krause pressed.

  “A fellow Artifactor. He specializes in history and artifacts, so if anyone would have an idea of what this thing is, it would be him.” Although going to see him would bring about its own set of problems and complications. But she would have to deal with that later. “I’ll need to see and examine the ruins before I go. The more information I can bring him, the better.”

  “I can show you there,” Decker offered instantly.

  She gave him a nod of agreement. “I’ll do that this afternoon.”

  ~ ~ ~

  As ruins went, these failed to impress her. They didn’t come close to the size or architectural feats of Nickerchen at least. Of course, the shape of the buildings had been severely impacted by Chastain’s occupants stealing rocks for every conceivable purpose over the generations. Who knew what it had looked like five generations ago?

  But now, Sevana didn’t see anything more than a pile of rocks with moss growing on top.

  She stood on the worn path that led to the ruins and got a good long look at it from a distance. None of the walls stood higher than the top of her chin except one tower that stood on the far east side, which leaned badly toward the right. The stones here looked to be granite, matching the composition of most of the village, all of them cut square and about the size of her head. She tried to put an age to them and guessed seven hundred years at least.

  In size, it seemed to be as big as Milby, so at one time this was probably a prosperous town. Why, she hadn’t the faintest clue, as it didn’t reside near any rivers or woods. Perhaps it sat along some ancient trade route?

  Shaking her contemplation aside, she asked her guide, “Decker, are there any areas that are known to be dangerous or unstable?”

  “No,” he answered readily.

  “Good. In that case, stay behind me,” she ordered both the hunter and his wolf as she drew a wand and crystal out of her bag.

  Decker slowly took a step away, eyes on the tools in her hands. “What are those?”

  “Scanning and imaging tools.”

  His mouth formed a silent ‘O’ of understanding. “To give your consulting Artifactor a clear image of the ruins to study?”

  “That and as a bargaining chip.” She flashed him a slightly wry smile. “Jacen is a difficult man to deal with even at the best of times, but there’s one thing that he can’t resist: new knowledge. If I bring him a complete scan of something he’s not seen before, he’s more likely to talk to me than if I offer a bag of leprechaun gold.”

  “You’re so sure he’s not heard of these ruins before?”

  “Fairly certain, yes,” she responded absently as she slowly stepped forward, wand held out unwavering in front of her as she tried to copy the image of every nook and cranny.

  “How do you know?” Decker persisted, although he thankfully did so from behind as she had requested.

  “There’s a list of all ruins and ancient sites that have been studied,” she answered with growing impatience. “This one isn’t listed. I would have remembered it. Why are you asking so many questions?”

  “Now how am I supposed to understand what’s going on when you don’t voluntarily explain anything?” he shot back dryly.

  She heaved out an exaggerated sigh but kept her eyes on the task at hand. “You’re as bad as Bel.”

  “Bel?” he repeated blankly. It took a second before it almost audibly clicked. “You call Prince Bellomi, Bel?!”

  “You know, that’s almost his reaction precisely when I said I’d call him that.” Although he’d gotten used to it with astonishing speed.

  After spluttering for a few seconds, Decker broke down into a low chuckle. “Well, I can see why he was so friendly with you now. It didn’t make much sense when I saw him greet you, but you truly do treat him as a friend, don’t you?”

  “Don’t get any strange ideas, Hunter,” she retorted acerbically. “I am not huggable.”

  Decker laughed outright at that. “The prince feels otherwise.”

  “He’s brain damaged. He got hit in the head too many times while training.”

&n
bsp; “If you say so,” Decker responded, tone rich with laughter. Clearly, he didn’t believe her.

  Well, fine, that was his prerogative. But if he thought he could hug her and get away with it, he’d best be prepared to lose an arm or two. She meant what she said. She was not huggable. Bel only got by with it because he ambushed her.

  She gave him a quick glance over her shoulder. Decker seemed…less strained than when she’d first met him. Probably because the man had actually gotten some sleep last night. With her charms on everyone, he no longer had the fear and worry of their safety hanging over his head. This was the first time she’d seen him truly smile, too. “Decker, tell me something.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why are you always hanging around me?”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes,” she drawled. “That.”

  “Well, everyone made a unanimous decision and voted that I be available to you while you’re here. Sort of like an assistant or a guide. There’s a lot that you don’t know about this area, after all, and we want to help you in whatever way we can.”

  So her suspicions were right. He had been put in charge of her. Well, this didn’t bother her much. Decker reminded her strangely of Sarsen for some reason. Perhaps because the two men were rather similar in personality. She found it easy to get along with him and easy to boss him, so she had no objections to him sticking around.

  “Errr, I’m not getting in your way, am I?”

  Sevana snorted, amused at the concern in his voice. “I’ll tell you when you do.”

  It was Decker’s turn to snort. “Somehow, I didn’t doubt that.”

  They kept up this banter over the next few hours as Sevana scanned every section of the ruins. She found a few symbols carved into the stones, most of them weathered almost beyond recognition, but she took several closer scans of them and hoped for the best. The day had waned into late afternoon before she finished. Fortunately, it didn’t take more than a short hike to return to Chastain. No wonder the villagers used this place as a stone quarry of sorts, with it being so conveniently located.

  Once they returned, Sevana waved Decker off so he could find dinner and she retreated back to her temporary workroom. But hunger soon drove her out again and she repeated her earlier actions of that morning as she went from one place to another and bought any food that tempted her stomach.

  By sunset, she had returned to the evil fountain and sat there on the cobblestones, nursing a tankard of hot mulled cider. What she had told Decker and Krause earlier had been the truth. She couldn’t make any plans until she knew exactly what she was dealing with. But that said, she didn’t need to know details at this point to know when she had gotten in well over her head.

  Letting out a disgruntled sigh, she took a healthy swallow of her cider and let the warmth flow through her. Mmm, good cider. She’d have to remember where she’d bought it and get more tomorrow.

  Alright, what to do? She truly couldn’t leave the villagers until other magicians arrived that could go out and fetch them home again. But sitting on her hands waiting idly didn’t suit her. She couldn’t go see Jacen—he lived a full day’s travel from here. It put her too far from Chastain. Although the idiot would be plenty reachable if he would just let her put a clock in his area. Why he had to be so stubborn about his privacy, she had no idea.

  No matter what Jacen might or might not know, no Artifactor or magician in the known world could defeat a level sixteen spell. They just didn’t have enough power to do so on their own, not without creating a spell of a higher level—and such a thing wasn’t possible. No matter how she thought about it, basic math and elementology still applied to the situation. It would take two casters, at least, to defeat this monstrosity and bring it back under control again.

  Sevana shifted slightly to avoid having her whole backend become numb. Sitting cross-legged here on the cobblestones probably didn’t count as the brightest of ideas. But she didn’t feel like moving yet—despite her tingling legs. She just kept thinking that if she sat here staring long enough, a brilliant solution would just come to her and she wouldn’t have to do this the hard way.

  Her gut said otherwise.

  Decker came to her side and dropped down onto his haunches without saying a word. For several moments they stared at the fountain in companionable silence, neither of them looking at the other. “You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

  “Not exactly,” she grumbled. “I can think of three possible solutions.”

  “But?” he encouraged.

  “But…none of the solutions can be done alone.” She heaved out a resigned sigh. Who was she trying to fool? “Stone the crows, I might as well face it. I’m going to have to split the commission.”

  “It’s going to take two people?”

  She propped her chin into both hands, balancing her elbows on her knees so that she hunched over. “I don’t have enough power. Even borrowing the power of other elements, the castor of an incantation has to add their power into the mix as well to actually activate a spell. I cannot come up with anything that will defeat a sixteen level spell, not on my own. Even with another person it’s going to be a mite tricky.”

  “How so?” Decker’s brows were furrowed in a worried frown.

  “Blending magic with someone else takes more than power. It takes complete trust in the other person’s skills, their instincts, and a certain amount of experience in working with them.”

  Decker studied her profile for a moment before offering, “You sound as if you already have someone in mind.”

  “I do. Let’s hope he’s available.” Otherwise she’d call in Master, who was harder to deal with. Shifting to one hip, she dug around in her pouch until she found her miniature Caller. Setting it on the ground in front of her, she enunciated clearly, “Sarsen.”

  Several seconds ticked by before the Caller lifted its head and assumed Sarsen’s rather lanky features. “Sev! Now this is a surprise. You hardly ever contact me.”

  “Got a job I could use an assist on. You free?”

  “The last time you called me in for ‘help’ I was up to my eyebrows in espionage, politics and frozen mobs.”

  “Is that a complaint I hear?” she demanded wryly.

  “Sweet mercy, no! Most fun I’ve had in ages. So what category does this job fall into? Fun, dangerous, or dangerously fun?”

  “Yes,” she told him seriously.

  “Excellent. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where are you, anyway?”

  “Chastain Village.”

  “Where?” he asked in bewilderment.

  “Windamere-Kindin border,” she elaborated with forced patience. “A little west of Vanorman.”

  “Ahh. I know Vanorman. Alright, I should be able to find you quickly enough. It’ll take me three days to get there, though. I’m at Master’s right now.”

  Oh? “In that case, if he has any dragon’s breath or a wind element of its same power level, bring it with you.” She had a hunch she would need it.

  “You want me to filch from Master’s stores?” the twenty-nine year old objected in true horror, making a sign with his hands that warded off evil. “Don’t you remember what happened to us the last time we did that?”

  She did. Vividly. With a grim smile she assured him, “Trust me, when he learns what we’re up against, he won’t mind.”

  Sarsen paused, his miniature looking up at her in suspicion. “Sev…just how bad is it?”

  “If this goes wrong, it’ll rearrange the landscape of eastern Windamere.”

  His hand flew in a quick gesture, making a silent prayer of safety. “I’ll raid his storerooms tonight before leaving. Just call Master and explain why. I trust you’ll fill me in completely when I get there?”

  “You’re not going to be of much help otherwise. And I’m half-hoping that you’ll think of a solution that I didn’t.”

  “Me? Out-think the Artifactor prodigy?”

  “Hey, miracles happen!”

  “Now I know
you’re desperate. Call Master. I’ll pack and get there in two days.”

  The Caller went still and she picked it up and plopped it back into her pocket. She wanted to get off this cold, hard stone and in a more padded chair before calling Master. He’d keep her talking for at least an hour on the details, knowing him. Rising, she stretched both arms over her chest before bending and retrieving her ceramic tankard from the ground. “I’m going to bed. After all, I’ll have to get up early and go to someone’s rescue. If the gods are kind, or at least listening, it won’t be another squawking child either.”

  Decker grimaced in sympathy. “From your lips to the gods’ ears. In that case, good night, Artifactor.”

  Master foiled her plan to get to bed early by keeping her awake for three hours talking about the problem. He was worried, justifiably so, and traded information and ideas with her freely on possible solutions. In the end, he gave Sarsen free reign over his storerooms and let them have whatever they thought they would need. She would think him generous if he hadn’t looked so obviously shaken by her descriptions.

  Of course, Decker woke her up early that morning to play fetch. The dreamer had gone to the island of Ence, of all places (why would anyone dream of that gods-forsaken place?). Ence sat on the very eastern edge of Windamere. In fact, any further, and you fell right into the ocean. It took most of the day to fetch the old woman back, and while grateful for the quick rescue, the matron did not appreciate the method. Sevana’s mini-skimmer scared the living daylight right out of her and she clung and prayed the entire way home.

  By the time they touched down in the main square, two hours or so of daylight were left, and not enough of the day for her to really dig into the problem and do any real work. The skimmer made soft scraping sounds as its full weight came to rest on the cobblestones and the two women became almost swamped with people. Mostly the old woman’s family, judging by the hugs, tears, and overlapping inquiries of “are you alright?!”

  Sevana quickly unbuckled and wiggled her way through the press of bodies until she could get free. Once there, she took in a deep breath and looked around for Decker. The next time that he sent her harrowing off on a mission to rescue someone, he needed to warn her they were afraid of heights!