Curse and Whisper

by A J Gala

  “Malauris?”

  “A listening daemon. It would let me spy on you. But you found out. We fought. I got away.”

  It might work, she thought. She finished dressing and fastened her cloak. “What will you do?”

  “Finish what I started.”

  Vayven 10, 1144

  Turning pages and a charcoal tip scribbling away were the only sounds filling the library of House Hallenar. For the first time, the library was clean. Beneath years of dust and must, the Bylands’ proud mahogany shelves gleamed with fresh polish. But Allanis couldn’t smell the oily citrus coating beyond the bitter charcoal debris on her papers.

  Black stained her hands. Words were smudged in every direction. But it didn’t matter—she spilled her thoughts and ideas out without abandon, purging what was useless and locking away what she needed deep into her mind.

  Books laid open before her. Giant tomes, some older than she was. They were stories about kings and queens, tales of famous battles, and records of royal councils. When Lazarus had first brought them to her, she had groaned and pouted like a child.

  “This is important,” he had said. “I know learning these things is a challenge for you, but it’s more relevant now than ever. You should study up about some of Mirivin Mainland’s most memorable rulers. You’ll find that many of them are remembered for their success. What can you learn? What can you do that they did?”

  It had been so irritating, having to go through all the books and rifle through the too-small text and inane details. At least it had been.

  She wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened, but before long she was voraciously gobbling up word after word. Her imagination had taken off, leaving her body behind save for her hands so that they might transcribe the grandiose scenarios being composed.

  Then she blinked, and her eyes burned. The sensation brought her back to real life and grounded her. Waning gray light from the windows and lambent yellow flames flickering in the library’s sconces were competing for superiority. It was time for a break.

  She sat back in her ornate padded chair, breathing in deep and rubbing her eyes. It was quiet enough to hear both a gentle breeze and the petulant flame of the pillar candle on the reading table. And then soft footsteps joined in. Slow, casual, wandering. By the time Allanis cared who it could be, steam was under her nose, carrying the scent of spice tea.

  She opened her eyes. “Gavin!”

  He returned her smile. “Good afternoon, my queen. What are you studying today?”

  Her eyes shifted to her hasty scribbles, and she sat up. “Everything that I’m not.” She took the hot mug of spice tea that he offered and warmed her hands.

  “I don’t follow.” He brought his own mug to his lips and sipped.

  “Well…” She sighed and shrugged. Before, the excitement of new ideas was fueling her, but it could no longer compete with the heartache of not measuring up to the past. “I’m learning about all of these amazing rulers from Mirivin’s history. I’m learning that they had things that I don’t. Things like courage, wit, creativity, knowledge… and I just can’t imagine how I can possibly be like any of them.”

  “You don’t think you’re courageous, witty, creative, or knowledgeable?” Gavin asked with a frown.

  “I’ve got more than I started with, that’s for sure.” She laughed one loud, flat, “hah,” into the air. “But it’s not enough. Not for what’s coming.”

  The battlemage hovered over her work, peering at her notes. “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have done all of this. So tell me what you’ve written. What are your thoughts? Do not let the dark parts of your mind convince you you’re an imposter.”

  Her heart warmed a little, and she relaxed back into the chair. “They were fighters,” she said. “Even Morgenda Mabus of Vandroya, ninety-eight years ago. Even though she was born ill and never got better her whole life, she stormed Thandon Castle with her toughest knights. They brought the king to her, and she lopped his head off herself. That’s how she took Vandroya and ruled until she was a hundred and two. The books say she had horrific pain every day that shot up her legs and hips until, one day after she gave birth to her only child, she couldn’t walk anymore.”

  Gavin put a hand on his hip. “Goodness. That is a fighter, indeed.”

  Allanis found herself filled with excitement again and sat up, scooting up to the table as close as she could. She pulled two books over for him to see.

  “She was decent with a sword, but she was real dangerous with Amethyst Magic like you, Gavin. In fact, lots of these rulers were either swordsmen or mages on top of knowing Royal Magic.”

  Gavin’s dark green eyes scanned the page she had open. “Vernaeus Byland?”

  “Yeah.” Allanis pushed the chair back and stood, stretching her legs. With aches and pains starting to creep in, she only then realized how hyper focused she’d been. “A great uncle of Frankel Byland. Wasn’t on the throne for very long, but there’s a lot of his stuff in the King’s Vault. Scrolls, old grimoires, crystals I’ve never seen before… it’s really interesting, actually.”

  Gavin squinted at the text. “His Council was smaller than the others’. Bigger than yours but still small. Consequence of being on the throne for so short a time, perhaps?”

  Allanis left her tea on the table, then folded her arms and wandered off to a window. She’d questioned Vernaeus Byland’s Council choices herself.

  “No,” she told Gavin. “That’s what I thought, but I went through the Byland Family History book, and there’s no mention of him struggling with power or anything that could suggest it was unintentional. It says he just let a bunch of people go. Thought their positions were pointless and that there were better places to spend the effort. Doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, really. Smaller staff, more organized.”

  “Less conflict,” Gavin added, turning a page. “Fewer people to betray you too.”

  “You know, he left on his own.” She glanced back at Gavin for a moment, then resumed taking in the window’s view of Suradia. “No scandal, no dying, no usurping… he handed the crown over to his brother—Frankel’s father—and left.”

  “Sounds like something foul happened.”

  She grinned. “Keep reading.”

  He did, getting sucked in just as she had. The Bylands had been a humble family, fond of communication. They were lauded for consulting the Suradian people with their plans, whether they were for maintenance, expansion, or something else. They were also known for going great lengths to feast and celebrate the success of other kingdoms to show good faith. The passage about Vernaeus, though his reign was short, was quite long. He’d gained fealty from many towns and villages that no longer existed, and there was even a rumor of a steamy romance between a woman in the Lovell family. But after that, the text’s tone changed.

  The polite, jovial Vernaeus Byland had vanished off into the mountains of Yzen Vale.

  “It says here he was an accomplished Zephyr Mage. No one even knew until his departure. He left to become a sage for the god Amuralgust.”

  Allanis nodded. “And the grimoire he learned from and taught with is in the King’s Vault. The Book of the Winds.”

  “Allanis, this is incredible.” He flipped through more pages, then gave up whatever he was looking for and rushed to join her by the window. “Zephyr Magic is rare. All of its masters are secluded deep in those mountains. Hermits. Some scholars go as far as saying it’s dead magic!”

  She shrugged, staring at the darkening clouds. “It might as well be. The arcane language the grimoire is written in is so… I don’t know. It’s not like the other arcane text. I know how to read the language well enough, and plenty of Royal Magic tomes are written in it, but that book is different.” She raised her hands up in front of her. “Not that I’d ever try to learn. Gods no.”

  Gavin couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Why not? You have all the material at your disposal!”

  She waved her finger and paced back
to the table. “It’s dangerous! Even if it is just watered-down Storm Magic.”

  He furrowed his brow at the remark, offended, and followed her. “It is not watered-down Storm Magic. Though you are right to claim Storm Magic is dangerous. Commanding the weather, changing its natural patterns, and summoning powerful natural phenomena—that is dangerous! But the winds don’t have to be. They can be sharp and cutting or serene and gentle. A tool that can be a weapon if—”

  “That’s all wonderful to hear, Gavin, but there are no masters to teach me Zephyr Magic.”

  Gavin rubbed the stubble on his chin. Allanis was right, but surely that couldn’t be the end of it. Was mastery even required?

  “Lazarus is a teacher,” he said. “You told me he had a school of some kind on the Fallarian Isle. He seems more than competent to take this on.”

  Allanis huffed. “I do not want Lazarus as a teacher. He’s smart as hell, but he’s impatient with me.”

  “Then what about me? I’m a teacher too.” He flourished his hand through the air just a little. “Translating the Book of the Winds is well within my abilities.”

  Allanis suddenly found herself without any more avenues to argue and started considering his offer. It meant more studying, and she loathed studying, but she needed an edge. An edge like Zephyr Magic.

  She took a deep breath and let it out.

  “We’ll try it. But don’t tell anyone.”

  The excited smile that spread across his face stomped out any lingering trepidation she had, and in another moment, she had the same grin across her own face.

  “As long as I’m taking some of Vernaeus’s same steps,” she started, “I think I’m going to hire a little more for the Council.” She showed Gavin a loose piece of paper with her plans scratched out in smudged cursive.

  “A Chamberlain and a River Warden?” he read aloud.

  “Yeah! He’s quoted saying that they were some of his most valuable Council members. A Chamberlain makes sense—to keep staff and house matters in order—and now that I know the Undina Loch is Suradian territory, the River Warden makes sense too.”

  Her mind was swimming with too many thoughts about magic and meetings. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on studying anymore and closed her books, marking her places in each one with their ribbons.

  “Have anyone in mind?” Gavin asked her.

  “I do.” She gestured for him to lead the way so that he might get to wander the shelves for whatever he had originally come in for. “You remember the guy that brought Alor back? That was Tye Sloat. He knows the Undina Loch. That whole family does. I think I should start there and see what happens.”

  “Very good, my queen. I believe in your plan.”

  4

  A Reunion of Sorts

  It had turned abysmally black outside. Allanis laid awake, the sound of rain boring a hole in her skull. The rain had already done enough damage lately… couldn’t it stop already? There was so much work to do, and Allanis couldn’t stop thinking about how much longer her Council would have to wait to get it done.

  Only when her bedroom door creaked shut on her and Lora did she finally feel as though her day had ended. The room was dark save for a few of Lora’s decorative lanterns casting about orange hues. It was quiet too. Lora sat at the vanity, braiding her hair before slipping into bed with Allanis.

  Allanis rested flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The cool, soft blankets beneath her and the warm fabric of her blankets against her skin made the perfect conditions to sleep. She was so close to the path to slumber. Her exhaustion was clearing the way for her. But she already knew that once again, she wouldn’t take one single step. When Lora came to sit with her on the bed, Allanis sat up.

  Lora scooted in close and wove her fingers through Allanis’s hair. “Oh, how I love these springy curls of yours.”

  Allanis leaned in and kissed her, closing her eyes as Lora’s soothing hands cupped her face.

  “Little Bird, I thought you said things were going well today. What’s troubling you?”

  “Everything. Like always.” She sighed. “I’m not going to get any sleep again, I know it.”

  “We could try another few drops of verveen oil in kanna root tea.”

  “It hasn’t worked these past few nights, but I guess we might as well keep trying.”

  Lora kissed her temples before slipping out of bed. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll figure something out. I’ll go find Rori and get you something made up. Sit tight and try to relax, my queen.”

  Allanis watched her leave and was swallowed up by hopelessness. But somehow, she was also a little relieved to be alone. For just a short while, she was free from the crushing weight of expectation. Despite her exciting new ideas for the future, she couldn’t shake the weight of reality. It was too much to keep worrying about Adeska, about the prisoners in the dungeon, and about Rhett and the looming threat of war.

  And about Tizzy and Aleth.

  The other things were at least somewhat under her control. She had ways to monitor them and stay updated. But not for those two. Ravina couldn’t find any information about their whereabouts or their condition. She had to trust that they were okay and that she wasn’t making their situation worse.

  She went over to a chair by the window and stared down at the bleak landscape below, being reminded of how much she hated the rain. The idea of rain she loved. The way it looked running down her window, how it smelled so fresh and invigorating. But in actuality, it was cold and wet and miserable, and it was drowning her town.

  It was a problem she had no idea how to solve. Every day she had to face the fact that she was woefully unprepared to be a queen. How had the town managed with her playing dress-up for all the previous years? Her old advisor Master Elengin, the poor sickly man he had been when he was still alive, had somehow kept the place from crumbling to the ground.

  She wanted to sleep so badly, she was nearly frustrated to tears. Her eyes were tired. Her body was tired. Her soul was tired. But her mind raced to no end, finding problem after problem that needed to be fixed, and there was nothing in the world loud enough to drown it out.

  “Allanis?”

  It wasn’t Lora’s voice, and that scared her. Allanis kept fighting back the tears and wouldn’t look behind her. The voice wasn’t real. She had finally cracked, she thought. The lack of sleep was making her crazy.

  “Allanis!”

  Don’t do it, she told herself. Don’t look, don’t turn around. You’ll just be disappointed. But she did it anyway. She had to know how far her madness was going to run. When she saw the ghostly image in the doorway, she gasped.

  “Tizzy!”

  She ran, slammed the door shut, and stood, shaking, dumbfound, with her arms open. “How?”

  “I don’t know how any of this works anymore,” Tizzy told her, unable to contain her smile. It was the truth—she had fallen asleep by the hearth in the Spire’s common room, reading a book Naia had given her, and now she was in Allanis’s room. “I pretend that I do, but I’m full of shit. You know that.”

  “I can’t believe it’s you!”

  She was home. Tizzy looked all around Allanis’s room, trying to keep composed. It felt amazing to see it all again, but her heart ached.

  “Allanis, I miss you so much.”

  The queen cracked with the weight of words she thought she would never hear. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. As soon as the first tear came, the rest came bursting forth, and she was standing there, sobbing uncontrollably. “You’re happy to see me.”

  Tizzy’s heartache twisted more with guilt. “Allanis! Oh my gods, I’m sorry. Of course I’m happy to see you! I’m so sorry about how I was to you and Athen. I should have been better. Of course I’m happy to see you. I love you!” She blinked back her own tears, but one still slipped.

  “Are you okay?” Allanis hiccupped and wiped her eyes. “You’re alive? Both of you? You aren’t actually a ghost?”

  “I’
m fine!” she laughed. “I’m not actually a ghost.”

  Allanis still couldn’t believe it. She wondered if there was a chance she was delirious, after all, and she was imagining the entire thing. A sister she had only known to be cold, standoffish, and miserable was now in front of her, smiling in a way she never could have imagined.

  “Look at you. You look great! You look—I don’t, I-I can’t explain—” Allanis was shaking as she spoke. “You look happy!”

  Tizzy’s emotions climbed over each other—her excitement and relief to see her sister, the guilt about how she’d left, and the confusing complications regarding her current life—and she couldn’t hold it in. For the first time ever, she let her walls down for Allanis and, with one little sob, broke down in a mess of tears right alongside her.

  “Tizzy, what’s the matter?”

  “I’m so happy to have him back, Allanis.” She covered her mouth for another sob. “You have no idea. I missed him so much.”

  “I know you did.”

  All she wanted to do was hold Tizzy and cry together, but her hands passed right through her.

  “I have so much to tell you,” Tizzy said. “So much has happened.”

  Allanis fidgeted with her hands and chewed on her bottom lip. “We found out, Tizzy. We, um, we know about the two of you. That you’re nightwalkers. We found out when Rhett stole a poison formula from Rori.”

  Tizzy trembled, but it was no longer from her tears. She clenched her fists. “Rhett.” She couldn’t breathe. “He found us. He came for us with a bunch of Hunters and tried to kill Aleth. He found the Poison Mother, and they had the poison, and they just stuck it in him like he didn’t even matter.”

  “They tried to kill him. They only tried, right? He’s okay?”

  “He lived. I can’t say there’s much of a chance for Rhett, though, not if we see him again.”

  “You won’t.” Allanis steadied herself and looked Tizzy dead in the eye. “You leave him to me.”