Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3)

by Jessie D. Eaker

  He had us all gather close together and tied a rope securely around all of us, and then he had us hold hands. He explained it was critical that we not lose contact with one another. I took Zofie’s hand on my right and held it firmly while Cabrina grabbed my left.

  Once we were ready, he closed his eyes and began to hum. I felt myst gathering, and a glowing bubble of blue light grew up from the floor to completely enclose us. I wanted to ask him why he hummed but didn’t dare at this point. I had time to check Zofie one last time before the floor vanished, and a pool of blackness appeared beneath my feet.

  Then we fell.

  The room we were in slid by as one would expect when falling into a hole. Then everything changed. As Oddfrid predicted, we entered total darkness. No, it was more than total. It seemed to suck up any light that came with us until we were picked clean. And then suddenly, I couldn’t tell up from down. I felt like my head suddenly switched with my feet, and now I was falling up. There was sound too. Like we were in a huge bell which rang and rang, but it had tones that I couldn’t always hear, but more felt in my chest. And the smells and tastes... At one moment, it was the scent of dandelions in spring while chewing on iron nails, and then next the stinking odor of sulfur while eating sour pickles. There were just too many conflicting sensations for my feeble brain to process. I gripped Zofie’s hand tighter. Someone groaned.

  And suddenly, we were through. We dropped onto soft-packed snow. Zofie staggered beside me in our uneven landing, but I quickly steadied her.

  We stood on top of a small hill with a rough wooden fence encircling us that was more ornamental than functional. Fresh snow had piled up against it, signaling a recent storm. But thankfully none this night. Over our heads, the night sky was completely clear and full of stars. The half-moon illuminating the white field around was us had shifted to a position closer to the horizon, indicating we had indeed traveled far to the east.

  But the thing that struck me most was the bitter cold. Our breath came out in cloudy puffs, while the air greedily pulled at what little heat we possessed. I shivered. We would need to get to shelter soon.

  We quickly untied from one other while Oddfrid pulled out some instrument from his pocket and looked at it. It’s feeble glow bright in dim light. He pointed to the west. “The town is just over that hill.”

  “Couldn’t you open a portal for us?” Spraggel asked, his teeth chattering.

  Oddfrid shook his head and started forward. “I’ve exhausted my myst. At one time, I could have, but as I am today, no.”

  We followed, struggling with the snow. It wasn’t that far, but having to push through was difficult. When we topped the next hill, we saw a small town below us, too small even to have a wall. However, I took heart at its windows, shedding golden light across the white covered ground and promising some much-needed warmth.

  Oddfrid led us to what appeared to be an inn. The occupants glared at us suspiciously when we entered. The people, almost to a one, were of a stocky sort and wore thick furs and knee-high boots. Oddfrid didn’t hesitate to walk up to the innkeeper and speak to him in a language I didn’t recognize. It was vaguely similar to Andronise, but I couldn’t make out the words. I think he asked about someone named Joesphi, but the innkeeper shook his head and pointed skyward. Apparently, that person had passed away. Oddfrid shook his head sadly and said a few more things before passing him some silver pieces.

  He turned back to us. “I have gotten myself a room, which I would greatly appreciate if you stayed out of. For the rest of you, you’ll be staying in the barn. It’s the only thing he has left. The snow has caused many of the travelers to pause their journey.”

  I nodded. “All right. Could you help us get something to eat before you go?”

  Oddfrid gave me a puzzled look. “What? No protest that since you’re royalty, you should have the room?”

  I shrugged. “You’re the one that needs the rest. It makes perfect sense that you would take it. Plus, Zofie’s the only royalty here, and she has never been picky about where she sleeps.”

  He looked at us a moment more before turning to the innkeeper and saying something to him in that language I didn’t understand and then pointing to us.

  The innkeeper nodded and pointed to a large table to one side. He then called over a serving boy, about Cabrina’s age, and gave him some instructions.

  Oddfrid led us over to the table. I carefully helped Zofie sit, and the others filled in around us. A moment later, the young lad returned and served us each a steaming bowl of some kind of stew. I couldn’t help but notice that he kept glancing at Cabrina—to the point where he nearly dropped her bowl in her lap. Naturally, she was oblivious to it until Spraggel leaned close and whispered in her ear. The young girl’s eyes went wide in surprise. Afterward, she began to discretely glance in the boy’s direction. I couldn’t help but smile. For someone so inter-ested in human courting, she had to have it pointed out when it hap-pened to her.

  After we were done, the serving boy led us outside to a barn. A couple of horses and a cow watched us curiously from a pen to one side as we entered. I had been a little concerned about staying in a barn, but this one was well maintained and thankfully kept heated using an iron stove in the center. There was also plenty of fresh, clean straw to lay down on. It actually wasn’t bad at all. We were all tired, so everyone quickly settled for the night.

  I had just gotten Zofie bedded down when Fumiko touched my arm. I turned to face her.

  “It’s time for another lesson,” she said.

  I looked around at the others. Burrowed into a pile of straw, Spraggel was already softly snoring. Cabrina was lying under her blanket, but I could see her eyes still open, watching us with interest. No doubt hoping for another hint on human mating practices.

  My shoulders slumped. “I’ll be honest, I’m exhausted. Can’t we wait until tomorrow night?” It was true I was tired, but there was another reason to delay. The last memory had been so personal. She had not lied when she said this process was more intimate than being lovers.

  Fumiko just stared at me a moment. “If you say so.” She started to turn away but suddenly wheeled and aimed a punch at my face. I instantly reacted and perfectly blocked it using a technique I had received from her. But she quickly followed with another to my stomach. I was totally unprepared and didn’t even see it coming. She pulled the hit, so it barely made contact. But her message was clear. I was nowhere near ready.

  Fumiko straightened, face unreadable. “Not bad, but that will not be enough to stop Lilith next time. And you know she’s coming. It’s just a matter of time.”

  I sighed. “All right. But I have to say I’m not comfortable with this. It’s just so... personal. I see things about you that I probably shouldn’t.”

  She held my gaze for a moment before answering. “You’re right. I’m not comfortable with it either.” She nodded toward Zofie. “But for her, I will do anything.” Fumiko turned her gaze back to me. “Will you?”

  I gave one last deep sigh and finally agreed. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

  I laid down on my blanket, and Fumiko knelt beside me. Once more, she took my hand and raised it to her forehead. I felt her gathering her myst.

  I glanced over at Zofie sleeping beside me. “I wonder what Zofie thinks of us doing this.”

  Fumiko’s lips grew into a half-smile. “I think she would be jealous that I’m taking all of her man’s attention.”

  “Zofie?” I asked in surprise. “She doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body.”

  Fumiko looked sad. “Ahh, you may be right.” And then softer, in a faint whisper, “But then again, you never know what truly lurks in a woman’s heart.”

  A moment later, the world began to fade, and I was thrust into Fumiko’s past.

  My stomach twisted in knots as I waited my turn.

  I knelt on the highly polished wood floor with my knees on the edge of the contest area. The others of my group, identically dressed
in gray pants and a belted shirt, were lined up beside me, motionless, all of us with backs straight and hands in our lap.

  The windows were open today, letting in the scents of spring flowers and providing a gentle breeze to cool the room. However, it could do nothing to alleviate the smell of sweaty exertion, and maybe a bit of fear, that permeated the room.

  In front of me, two of my group were fighting. Their swords flashed in the bright sunlight streaming from the open windows, and the clang of metal against metal punctuated their strikes. The blows they traded were deadly. Should either one of them make a misstep...

  I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. I needed to be calm. My turn was next, and I had, unfortunately, drawn a girl who was as close to a friend as it came in my group. We were only fifteen, but this was the sorting. One of us would leave the group today, never to return.

  No one knew what happened to those that lost, but rumor had it that slavery was the best outcome. And we didn’t talk about the worst.

  I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the fight. Tried to analyze their movements and dissect their weaknesses. But at this point, there were very few. Those who consistently made mistakes had been weeded out long ago.

  Not for the first time, I wondered why my father had forced this on me. Forced me to be part of this group of children and receive such brutal training. The Emperor’s Butterflies, as we were called. They said we were special, and we should be honored. But from the way they treated us, it didn’t seem that way.

  I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve it. I couldn’t have offended Father. I had only met him the one time, and he didn’t even know who I was. And I certainly didn’t pose a succession threat. I was so far down the line that it was laughable. I wasn’t even suitable to be some allies’ concubine! Even the relatives on my mother’s side refused to acknowledge me.

  The only reason I could think of was due to the scandal my mother had been involved in. Maybe it was to punish her. Whatever the reason, I would likely never know.

  But one thing was sure about the Butterflies. Once entered, there was only one way out.

  “Hold!” came the shout of the referee.

  I jerked myself back to the present.

  The red seeping through a slash in one of their shirts caught my eye. It was just a flesh wound—nothing serious in of itself. My eyes slid up to the boy attached to the injury. Duong was his name. He was always joking and made us smile, even though we tried not to. But now, his expression was hard and full of anger. I could see his lower lip tremble.

  The victor was named Weisheng, and he gave no expression, merely moved to attention with his sword lowered. I was close enough that I could see a drop of blood run down its razor edge and gather at the tip. I couldn’t help but watch in horror as it dripped to the floor. My eyes wouldn’t leave the spot. It looked so red.

  The two boys bowed to each other. They turned to their seconds and bowed again, extending the swords to them on the flats of their hands. The seconds received the weapons in the same manner before turning and presenting them to the masters.

  Relieved of their swords, the two combatants once again faced each other and bowed. Despite his win, Weisheng looked like he was going to cry. But Duong shook off his earlier anger and gave his opponent a confident smile before turning with head held high and walking out of the room. For a moment, Weisheng swayed, like he might run after him, but he held firm and then went to his place and kneeled with the other victors.

  “Fumiko! Jiaying!” announced one of the masters. My heart pounded in my chest. Now it was my time.

  We stepped out onto the floor. When we reached the center, we briefly faced each other before bowing. Jiaying avoided my eyes. As I looked down, I couldn’t help but notice the spot of blood on the floor, perfectly round, and so, so red. For some reason, it made me shiver.

  Rising, I turned, and our seconds brought over our weapons—highly polished steel, the kind some ladies of court used for a mirror. It was hard, smooth, and cut like a razor.

  I bowed to my second and took the sword in my two hands before turning to face my opponent. We bowed again, and then for the first time since stepping onto the floor, we looked into each other’s eyes. I guess I knew her better than I thought. Her gaze held nervousness, yet also a fierce determination. Many years ago, I had thought of her as my twin, and as we stared at each other, I knew it was true. Her eyes mirrored mine perfectly.

  I had sparred with her many times before. She was good. Very good. The best in our group. And in one way or another, this would be the last time we fought together.

  We moved into our opening forms and waited for the signal. I felt a bead of sweat run down the side of my face.

  “Go!”

  And we moved.

  We swung at each other. No holding back. The sharp clang of our swords coming in quick succession. Forward, back, left, right. Moves so fast, they were hard to follow. She feinted, I countered. She attacked, I defended. The muscles in my arms and legs, conditioned over many hours of practice, responded before the thoughts could form in my brain. Our deadly dance was horrifying. Yet, it was beautiful. I noticed my opponent’s smile. And to my horror, I smiled back. Her movements were graceful, beautiful, an honor to behold. In that moment, I loved her. My sister. My twin.

  But perfection could never last. We were after all, just young girls. Our limbs grew tired. Our concentration began to break. A slip had to occur. As we drew to our conclusion, I knew I couldn’t let her die.

  “Hold!”

  We each froze instantly in place and took a step back. I cut my eyes to my left arm and the new rip in my sleeve. Red was seeping through it. My stomach knotted. Had I made the right decision? Was I about to find out what lay beyond the sorting?

  A hush fell over the room. Not even the spring breeze dared break the silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the masters quickly gather and begin to whisper among themselves. They hadn’t called a winner.

  I looked across to Jiaying, and she stared back in wide-eyed surprise. The reason was easy to see. She also had a cut on her arm in nearly the identical place as mine. It appeared we had wounded each other at exactly the same time.

  I understood the consternation of the masters. This could not be a coincidence. It had to be arranged somehow, and it took great timing and skill to pull it off. One of us had created an opening, while at the same time, offered one. Only someone of exceptional skill could do it. Even the masters would be hard-pressed for such a feat. But which one of us? The wrong choice would eliminate a genius.

  And that they dared not do.

  Jiaying realized this too, and a slow smile crept onto her face. We both began to hope.

  The masters broke apart. “Draw!” announced the referee. “Both return to your places.”

  We bowed and passed off our blades to our seconds, before kneeling in our previous spots. We each wore the only red sleeves of those remaining. It was amazing how similar the wounds were. Like they mirrored each other.

  I cut my eyes in her direction. She was having trouble concealing her relief, as I too was having difficulty hiding mine. A coincidence had saved us both. Or so it seemed.

  But even at my young age, I already knew...

  Coincidences didn’t exist.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Cabrina’s

  Gift

  I awoke to a warm weight on my chest and the sound of someone banging a metal pail. I could tell the pail’s operator was trying to be quiet, but it just wasn’t working. As for the weight on my chest, Fumiko lay partially across me. She must have also passed out after sharing her memory. She lay atop me, dead asleep, her head resting on my chest and her arm thrown across me. I watched her face for a moment as she slumbered—a rare unguarded moment for someone so reserved. Her mouth hung partially open, and her mussed hair spread across her cheek and across her eyes. I ached to brush it back, but I dared not, lest I wake her. Not for the first time, I noticed her smooth ski
n and delicate lips—she was every bit the beauty. I understood why Rourke was so enamored with her. It would be quite easy to fall under her spell.

  Too easy. I thought of Zofie and looked away.

  The memories of her fight hung in my mind. It was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. What had it been? She had referred to it as the sorting. But, exactly what was it? Why had the emperor ordered her to be part of it? And most importantly, why had they put her in that impossible position of choosing between her friend and her own life? So many questions. Now that she had shared her memory, maybe she would be willing to talk about it.

  The pail rattled again, and Fumiko’s breathing changed. Her eyes slowly blinked open and flicked around the barn’s interior before finally settling on me. And then she smiled. It was like the sun had suddenly risen. But she seemed to catch herself and bolted upright. “Sorry,” she mumbled and immediately stood. Without looking up, she grabbed her cloak and was out the door.

  I sighed. I must have embarrassed her. I would have to apologize later.

  I turned toward Zofie and found her sitting up, eyes staring straight ahead. Which meant she was ready to be taken to the privy. I immediately felt guilty. I had spent a couple of extra moments staring at Fumiko when I should have been helping my princess instead.

  “Good. You’re finally awake. I can get some breakfast.”

  I turned to see Spraggel standing with his backside to the stove. He was impatiently rocking back and forth on his heels. Behind him, on the other side of the stove, Cabrina sat on a pile of straw with her knees pulled up to her chest. She was intently watching the other occupant in the room—the serving boy from yesterday. He was the operator of the noisy pail and was using it to water the animals.

  “Breakfast?” I asked, running a hand through my hair.

  Spraggel nodded. “Yes, you know the meal you have after the sun comes up. The one I’ve been dying to have while you’ve been sleeping with your other woman.”

  I looked up in surprise. “She’s not my woman.”