The Lantern's Curse

by Hannah King

  “Yes, of course it is,” I breathed. “I, I want to try. I will.”

  I pushed Gray’s words out of my mind. I could do it for my country, for my people. I could do it for Lead Breiden and Lead Talrinious. I could do it for Tratis. I would.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TALITHA

  ONE POLITE KNOCK. The Ambassador. It was late in the evening. I got up from the fireplace hearthstones where I’d been sitting and traded the blanket I’d wrapped around my shoulders for my cloak. After so many midnight visits from Tate, I’d started to simply wait up for him. I would stay in my day clothing and keep my shoes near the door. I was, however, surprised that he’d bothered to send the Ambassador after me. Usually Tate fetched me himself at the later hours, and he never knocked.

  “Master Tate has requested an audience with you,” the Ambassador said once I’d opened the door. “I see that you’re already prepared.”

  I nodded and he took my hand as usual, except this time I noticed his hand was a little colder. Is it shaking? I wondered.

  We started down our usual path, through the hallways, down several staircases and onto the main floor, but then we took a sharp left and passed through a door that took us outside and into the yard of the Leiden Military Barracks. I looked at him puzzlingly, but he offered me no explanation.

  We made our way down a narrow, curving staircase that seemed to plunge into darkness until we reached the bottom. We entered a dim marble hallway and strode past hundreds of heavily bolted doors with iron slots at the top. A chill went up my spine as muffled cries rang out behind them.

  “What is this place?” I asked nervously.

  “The Leiden Prisons,” he answered matter of factly, then, upon seeing my fairly horrified face, moved to explain. “We’re only here to visit, don’t worry.”

  I relaxed a little. Gray had gotten in my head, caused my fears to grow out of bounds.

  We reached the end of the first passage, then turned right. The halls were growing darker as we proceeded. We came to a gate. Four guards stood there, one of which took a long key and inserted it into the lock. Beyond the gate the walls turned from marble to bare stone.

  There were cells here too, the entries blocked by rusty gates rather than thick doors so that one could see a bleak interior, but most of them were empty, their doors ajar. Only two doors that we passed were locked shut, and we walked past them so quickly I could hardly see who was inside.

  There was a horrible rotting scent mixing with the lavender water the Ambassador had splashed on his clothing. This was not the part of the prison you wanted to be in, I gathered queasily.

  At last, we reached the final door at the end of the hall that was watched by twelve guards. They moved aside for us and the Ambassador opened it with a grimace, gesturing for me to follow him inside. The moment I entered, an eerily familiar sense filled my mind. It was muffled only a little by my lighter gloves, but I was well aware of it, and it filled me with dread.

  The room was perfectly square. The walls were bare stone, just like the rest of the prison. At first glance the dark interior seemed to be a simple conference room. There was a fireplace and a table with benches at the back, but to the right there was a stagnant pool of water with a rope hanging over it, and near it stood a small, rickety table covered with glass bottles and tools.

  Another table was covered with a black cloth, and in one corner lay a pile of iron shackles and cuffs. I didn’t have time to dwell on the true purpose of the room.

  In the shadows, Master Tate stood in the center near yet another covered cage, but his usual sarcastic expression was replaced with a somber, nervous one. Slowly, I was becoming aware of what was about to happen. Tonight would not be a usual lesson.

  Tratis was standing beside him, also looking serious, but I felt a swell of relief at the sight of him. He’d decided to come and be with me during this. I’m not going to be alone, I thought gratefully.

  “I apologize for the lack of light, I didn’t want to light too many lamps,” Tate said. “Thought the flickers might be distracting.” His voice was low and gruff, with no hint of teasing or nonsense. He pulled the sheet off the cage and a shriek filled and echoed off the walls of the chamber. I stepped back.

  “It cannot hurt you in there,” Tate said grimly. “Banish those feelings of fear, they will be of no use to you this evening.”

  “But, how did you…” I trailed off. I’d heard that they were keeping a shazod somewhere, but I almost hadn’t believed it.

  “This is Pierceheart,” Tate gestured to the seemingly empty cage. “He will be our subject of study this evening. Your final exam, one might say.”

  I felt my courage fading, but he was already explaining my course of action, demanding my full attention.

  “You will bind this creature. It will be tiresome, and difficult, even before you get to the final words. It will not want to bend to you, much like when you and I practiced, but if you persist, you may have success. When you finish the first few phrases and move on to your choice of binding, be cautious. You must choose to bind it to a strong, specific feeling and nothing else. The stronger the feeling, the longer the binding will hold and the less likely it will be stolen from you.”

  I nodded.

  “You will communicate one, clear message to this creature. The direct and utter hatred of your enemies, the Parters.”

  I gaped at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. He stared me down.

  “We want them to destroy their old masters, the Parters. Faldir has hundreds of them in his possession, and if you successfully communicate your hatred against his followers, they will turn on our enemies and kill them, leaving only the lucky alive. The shazod will belong to you instead of Faldir, and he will not be able to use them for our harm any longer.”

  I hesitated. So that was to be the feeling I would use. It seemed a harsh reality, but I reminded myself that qualms were useless when it came to winning this battle. This was Faldir and the goons that had been set on wiping us out for years. This was justice.

  Tate beckoned me forward. The sooner we started, the sooner this would all be over. I clung to the reward I imagined. Reluctantly, I peeled my gloves off, and the full force of the creature’s sickening presence filled my mind.

  I closed my eyes, searching for memories to build the feeling with. I thought of the many times I’d run Parter soldiers through with my sword, but even then, the feeling of hatred wasn’t strong enough. Then and there it had been a feeling of fear and survival.

  But I did hate them. They’d turned on my father and mother, turned on our king, and killed their own countrymen. All my life, a growing, brooding hatred had been present. I’d known since the night at the inn that I could never forgive them. I knew that they were the reason I was far away from my family, they were the reason I would never see my cousins again, the reason so many of my friends and comrades had died.

  They’d robbed me of my childhood, of my home, and my loved ones. They’d taken my life away from me. This creature in front of me wasn’t even my enemy, I realized. It was Faldir and his followers that were. By feeding it my own hatred the creature would finally pay Faldir back for the evil deeds he had accomplished through it.

  A fit of coughing echoed in the chamber. The Ambassador was wheezing, hacking all of a sudden. He gasped for breath, then blew out.

  “The air down here, I’m just not used to it,” he offered hoarsely. It was a stagnant, mildew filled place and I’d felt my own lungs tighten when we’d entered.

  “Why don’t you wait outside then?” Tate said, his voice thick with annoyance. “There’s no way she’ll be able to accomplish anything with you making all that noise.”

  “But the Paraphrant insisted that I observe-” the man began to cough again.

  “There will be nothing to observe if you don’t get out,” Tate threatened. The Ambassador frowned and hesitated, but realized he had no choice but to obey the man. Once the door was shut, Tate began to speak s
lowly, sternly.

  “This evening, you will use the word Elzar rather than Eniz to specify that you mean to bind the whole of the species.”

  I hadn’t practiced the multiple binding. Why hadn’t we practiced that before just now? It seemed like it might have been helpful to at least know how it felt to bind thousands of the same creature rather than just one or two.

  “Don’t worry, that’s not the difficult part,” he had sensed my concern, probably noting the way I was mouthing the word to myself absentmindedly.

  “The worst part of this will be the stealing. You won’t be able to see who you’re stealing from, of course, but you will know when you break him. You’ll feel it.”

  That was true. Even though I had seen Tate crumple to the ground, I had also felt him crumple.

  “And when will it be safe to release the creatures?” I asked.

  Tate pressed his lips together.

  “You won’t just yet. In fact, you will not be using the term Rauphador today at all. Rauphador is the release word for single and limited bindings. There is another release word that breaks a species binding, but I won’t distract you with it at this time. You don’t need to know it, because you will keep them bound for now.”

  I was already beginning to think twice. They didn’t want me to simply steal this binding, they wanted me to hold these creatures in my own power for a while. But for how long? And how would it feel to hold so many creatures? Couldn’t he just tell me the release word in case it became too much for me?

  A shudder slipped down my spine. Perhaps it was the constraints in the corner or the noose dangling above the water.

  No, I have to do this, I told myself. I’d managed to hold bindings during my training with only a few headaches. They’d always made me feel cloudy and distant, so distracted from real life, but I’d managed. Still, those had been simple, small bindings of single or few creatures. Tate had never been able to steal one back, but I didn’t know how strong Tate was compared to other Lanterns, compared to Faldir.

  How strong is Faldir? I worried. I felt he must be stronger than I was. He was a king after all. Would I be in constant battle with him to keep the shazod in my power?

  The dark prisons, the sort of torture chamber we stood in, they were all starting to give fuel to Gray’s words.

  Maybe I will go crazy, and then they’ll have to kill me. But, if I still hold the binding, killing me will mean losing it. Instead will they lock me up? Cast me into one of the cells we’d passed on our way? But Tratis wouldn’t let them hurt me, would he?

  “Amlai?”

  “Yes, sir,” I snapped out of my thoughts.

  “Reach out and begin please,” Tate insisted.

  My hands trembled.

  “I’m ready,” I said aloud. I just wanted it to be over.

  I held my breath and reached through the bars of the cage, waiting for my fingers to find the horrible creature, bracing for the anger and ill will I already distantly felt.

  The shazod was hissing and growling at me, lunging and struggling, but there was only so much it could do through the narrow bars. I gripped it’s hand in mine. Its claws tore at my hand and wrist. Gritting my teeth, I resisted the urge to pull away, and instead, gripped the one hand with all my strength to still it. I could hear nothing except for the screeching of the creature, but knew I had to start. With quick breaths I began the binding.

  Ceptador. Listen. It did not want to listen. Instantly I struggled to keep my focus as a conflict began. I continued to feed it the word until the struggle lessened.

  Elzar. All of you, every, single one. My fingers began to burn and tingle, my mind filled so full I thought it might explode. I took another laboring breath and went on.

  Gorath, zitar, alymath, the words were so familiar to me after my many practice sessions. I asked it to bend to my will, to know that I was stronger than it, here in the vulnerable position it was. But would all of them believe me?

  Master Tate had once explained that most life forms were connected by the fibers of Nurandism. If one creature was threatened or motivated by a Lantern and the word Elzar was used, every creature of the species, near or far, would be subjected to the deal the Lantern was making with the one creature in his possession.

  Huelatath, aralt, yor, wol ueili, I promised it protection quickly.

  Solador. Accept these feelings as your own.

  I was so close. My heart was pounding with expectation. My mind burned with the worst headache yet. I wasn’t even sure if I had slumped to the floor or was standing, but I knew I was still conscious. That was all I needed.

  I gathered the feeling I’d chosen. I hadn’t needed a memory to bring it to the surface. The feeling was strong enough already. It had been growing and surmounting inside me for years. The hatred I harbored for them welled up in me, strong and raw, like a fresh wound, until it was stronger than ever.

  Still, I struggled against the barrier of the existing binding. With the strength that I had learned from battling Tate, I kept fighting, reaching, pushing against Faldir’s iron strong binding, letting my own hatred surmount and strengthen.

  Then suddenly, I felt a release. I blinked and refocused. The pain in my head was subsiding. I’d done it. I tried not to allow my excitement to disorient me.

  The screeching had stopped. The creature was relaxing at my touch. It no longer wanted to harm me, it was, instead, curious, and questioning its surroundings. I let my hands linger for a moment, my mind suddenly wanting to know what this creature was truly like, finally feeling as though I could decipher some of its reality without the vicious presence that had once surrounded it.

  At first it seemed odd, because of the strength of the malice I had bound it with, but I suddenly understood it no longer had cause to be angry. There were no Parters in its sights, I realized. It was incredible. I’d done it. I wondered if at that very moment, the shazod in Faldir’s castle were turning on our enemies.

  I opened my eyes and removed my hands from the creature at last. The room was perfectly silent. Tratis looked as nervous as I was, and Tate was close by my side.

  “First success,” he whispered very quietly. “Now keep your mind at the ready, the worst is yet to come. If you can withstand it, you will have succeeded.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  WYATT

  WYATT FELT HIS insides clench together at the sound of her scream. He heard a huge commotion coming from down the hall and without hesitation he broke into a run toward it, the gates hitting the walls with terrible clangs as he threw them open in haste.

  She’d collapsed, no color left in her face, no life in her limbs. The guards were at the ready, their swords unsheathed and brandished near her, but they were slowly realizing that whatever had gone wrong could not be fixed by force. Wyatt swallowed away a sickening feeling as he looked at her death-like frame. He remembered all of the precautions he’d had to listen to.

  “Twelve guards, in case something goes wrong,” the Paraphrant had told him. It had made him ill just thinking about the plans his leaders had put in place. The girl had been clueless, she’d heard none of their concerned whispers.

  The guards will stand there just in case it’s too much for her and she tries to hurt herself or someone else in the room. In the unlikely event that she begins to lash out, don’t kill her unless it’s absolutely necessary, or the binding won’t stay. Take her to one of the thick cells and lock it with care.

  This had all been said in Tate’s meetings with the Paraphrant. Secret meetings, late in the night, that he’d slid out of his warm bed to gather for, simply because Tratis could not be part of them. Tate was worried that he cared too much for the girl, and would be angry if he knew the full consequences of what he’d unknowingly signed her up for.

  They’d been right about that. Tratis was bending over her now, begging Tate to tell him what had gone wrong, if she was alive, and what in hell had happened. Tate’s hands were held up in defeat, his face crossed with guilt. He was
stuttering about Faldir’s strength, how it was too much for her, but he seemed helpless to answer the question Tratis asked the most, would she live?

  Wyatt made his way toward them, swallowing hard.

  “Talitha!” Tratis was shaking her now. “Talitha, wake up, please,” he pleaded. Horror creased his sweaty forehead. He was taking all the blame for this, Wyatt knew. Tratis took her wrist in his hand, searching for a pulse.

  “Yes, yes, it’s faint, slow, but,” he took a gulp of air, and then managed to finish, “there’s still some life.” His hands were shaking as he released her wrist. There was a collective sigh of relief.

  Tate held his face in his hands, trying to figure what had gone wrong. “She must have become distracted,” he murmured anxiously. “He is much stronger than I thought...”

  “You never told me there was a chance he could hurt her!” Tratis grabbed the man’s collar in a rage. “She either could, or she couldn’t, you never spoke of any of this!”

  Tate looked at him helplessly. “I’m afraid Nurandism has always had its dangers,” he said soberly. Wyatt was almost sure that Tratis was about to strike Tate, but the girl let out a moan, and he was quickly by her side again.

  “Will she recover?” he asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Tate answered in a daze. “She’ll need medical attention,” he said, “or she may not make it through the night.”

  “Wyatt, fetch a healer, quickly,” Tratis was barking at him. He shook himself from his stupor and obeyed.

  TALITHA

  I’d never seen Tratis look so frightened, but I was almost too distracted to notice. From the moment I’d opened my eyes, there had been so much commotion in the room and in my body that I had almost blacked out again. A dull, nagging pain circulated through my entire body, and only with Tratis’ help could I hold my head up at first.