Curse and Whisper

by A J Gala

  There was something different about her, Tizzy thought. Something fearless and determined, an earthquake just beneath the surface. She was proud.

  “How have you been?” she asked.

  “Awful.” Allanis laughed with tears in her eyes. “Tizzy, our family is the worst.”

  “I’ve been saying that for years.”

  “I know. I get it now. And I’m glad that you’re away, finally happy.”

  “I don’t think it was so much that I needed to leave all of you. I just needed him back, Allanis. That’s all. There’s room for all of you in my life. Maybe not now. But soon.”

  “Wait, does that mean you’re coming back?”

  Tizzy bit down on her smile. “I finally got him to agree. You’ll have to give him even more space than you had to give me, but I think it’ll still work out.”

  Allanis’s whole face perked up. She beamed and balled her hands up under her chin. “I can’t wait. Tizzy, this is amazing! You don’t understand how much I needed this. You’re going to stay in touch, right? Write me or do whatever this is? Something? Anything!”

  “I will. I’m sorry that I didn’t do it earlier.” Her eyes kept wandering to all the details in Allanis’s room that felt like home. All the cutesy pinks and pearl jewelry laying around where it shouldn’t be. She missed all of it. “You must’ve been worried sick about us, and with Rhett trying so hard to kill us, you’d be right to.” She sighed. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Alright.” Allanis wiped away a few late tears slipping down her puffy cheeks. “I can live with that.” She sat down on her bed, and there was a long silence that enveloped the room. She couldn’t believe Tizzy was there talking with her but then remembered it had only been a short while ago that Adeska and Athen had seen her the same way. She took a deep breath.

  “Okay, Tizzy. I have to know.” She stared at her hands, not wanting to see Tizzy’s expression when she asked her question. “How did it happen?”

  At first, she had no idea what Allanis was talking about. But then it was obvious. She knew the question would come eventually.

  “Where do I start?”

  “Bloodkin can’t turn dead people, can they?”

  “No, I don’t think that’s how it works. But I also wasn’t turned by a random bloodkin. There’s one who started it all. Well, I’ve been told there are two, but I don’t know anything about the other one. This one that turned me is called the Father. A nightwalker’s lineage either traces back to him or the Mother. My lineage is a very short line right back to the Father.”

  “You were turned by him? By one of the first ones?”

  “He can only turn someone who is stuck between Realms, and during my Rite of Crossing, that’s where I was.”

  “Oh my gods.” She tried to think of what came next, but whether she couldn’t logically figure it out or her mind didn’t want to go, she wasn’t sure. “And what about Aleth? How did the Father turn Aleth?”

  Tizzy looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears again. “He didn’t.” Her eyes burned as she tried to choke them down. “I did. Allanis, I turned him. When I woke up, there he was, but I wasn’t me. I was this bloodthirsty monster—”

  She stopped herself. Aleth had used the very same word the day before. He hadn’t called her one, but now she saw it, now she realized it had been in his words all along. Of course that’s how he felt about her.

  “—I was a monster. I just tore into him like it was nothing and started drinking, and when I snapped out of it, there was blood everywhere. I panicked. I was so little, Allanis. I was so stupid. I thought if I gave it back to him, he would be okay.”

  “You tried to give the blood back, and that’s how it happened. You made him.” Allanis breathed in deep. She couldn’t take in the full scope of how awful it was, but she knew it would weigh down on her later. For now, she was relieved to finally have the mystery solved.

  “Everything that’s happened to him—all of the abuse—Allanis, it’s my fault!”

  “No! He’s the one who ran off into the woods in the middle of the night to see you in the first place.” She folded her arms. “Please tell me he hasn’t been telling you that all of this is your fault.”

  “He’s with you on this one, trust me.” She rubbed a sudden chill running down her arms. “Everyone, they’ve been calling me the Protégé because I was turned by the Father. Supposedly, it makes me special. But I don’t get it. I don’t get why people are looking for me. I can’t do anything.”

  “You can turn into a ghost.”

  “So what? Aleth can turn into a dog.”

  Allanis put her hands on her head. “Oh, good lords. They were serious! Gavin and Isa told me that, and I thought I had missed something!”

  “No. Just poof! Dog.”

  “Wow.”

  “Allanis, look… I have to go, but I’m safe right now. We both are, and I’m not going to let anything happen to us.” She repeated the words to herself in her mind again. She had to remember to keep true to them. “You don’t have to fret about us. I know you will anyway, but don’t let it tear you apart. I won’t let us be the ones you have to worry about.”

  “I believe you.” She sniffled. “Things here are changing, Tizzy. You don’t have to worry about me, either. I love you, and I miss you, but when you left, it made me tough. I needed this. I’m sorry I couldn’t be this way for you when you were still here.”

  Tizzy smiled. “No more sorries out of either of us, okay? It’s time to stop apologizing for who we are.” She wished she could be saying it to Aleth again. “There’s a lot ahead of us still. A lot to be done. But we’re going to do great, and this world will not get in our way.”

  She looked over her shoulder at something that Allanis couldn’t see, then vanished. For a split second, Allanis was cold and hollow, but then it washed away, and she was satisfied. Calm. Relieved. Something inside of her had finally stopped moving, stopped ferociously bouncing around inside her head, keeping her up. She nestled her head back down into her pillow and pulled the blankets over her. Her mind was still at last, and she drifted off into sleep.

  Vayven 11, 1144

  “Your Grace!”

  The plump, ivory-robed advisor was out of breath by the time he reached Anavelia’s door.

  “Your Grace!” Otes yelled again. An important piebald pigeon had arrived before dawn.

  Anavelia stirred in Orin’s arms when she heard her name from down the hall. “What on Rosamar’s earth?” She rolled away from him and climbed out of bed, reaching for a plum-colored robe.

  “Your Grace, you’ve received a letter! With a sapphire bear!”

  She gasped and tied the robe on, jerking the tie into a knot as she rushed to the door. “Ash!” Otes was on the other side, thrusting it in her hands—a letter with a bear stamped into a blue wax seal. “Oh gods, why would it have been sent at this hour?”

  “I don’t know, Your Grace. I didn’t read it.”

  Anavelia stepped into the hall and shut the bedroom door. Her hands were shaking as she peeled back the seal and unrolled the paper. A note was scrawled in Ashbel’s prim but uneven penmanship.

  Sister,

  I wanted to report that I am doing very well at House Hallenar. I am getting the opportunity to make important changes while on Allanis’s Council. I thought you might be proud.

  But Allanis is going to find out.

  Anavelia’s heart stopped as her eyes read over the words. She was thankful to have stopped Sinisia from pursuing Aleth Hallenar any longer… but was it still too late? Had the damage already been done? She turned her eyes back to the letter.

  I’ve tried to stop it, but sooner or later, she will find out. I pray that you will have something helpful to tell her so that your efforts don’t seem like the stab in the back that they really are.

  -Ash

  “Your Grace?”

  Her heart was in her throat. “I’ve got to find Sinisia.”

>   “Didn’t you give her a new job? She rode off through the south gate hours after you saw her last. No one has seen her since.”

  “What? No, I didn’t send her away! Why would she leave without telling me?”

  “Personal business, perhaps? She may have thought the best time to handle it was between duties. It hasn’t been too terribly long. She might be back when the sun rises.”

  The letter crumpled in her hand, but then she panicked and started to smooth it out. Part of her worried that it could be the last thing she ever received from Ashbel.

  “I hope it’s as harmless as that. Please have someone notify me the second she is back within city walls. And check in with the other Dusks to see if she is spotted anywhere in the meantime. Otes, I need her back here immediately. Something happened, and now people are starting to figure things out that they shouldn’t be.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I understand.”

  Her advisor left the way he came, striding back down the hall. Anavelia read over the letter one last time before returning to her room. She didn’t know where she could possibly hide it. Orin would still find it. So, she didn’t bother and left it laying out on her desk.

  Orin turned and stretched sleep from his limbs. “My queen, are you alright?” His voice was hoarse with early words.

  Anavelia came to him and sat on the edge of her bed. Her chest was tight, trying to contain the pounding of her heart. Was she overreacting? She didn’t know if the shock was from being woken from her slumber or from the threatening words in her brother’s letter, but it was there, and it was seeded deep. She had a choice to make, and it wasn’t an obvious one.

  She had already decided to stay out of Allanis’s business. That wasn’t what needed deliberation. She looked over her shoulder at Orin, who was starting to rouse.

  “Can I trust you?”

  At once, he was sobered. “My queen?”

  “Can I really trust you?” It was now or never. She’d never have the confidence to say it later. “We both know you can’t stand me.”

  Orin had known this conversation would come, but he always imagined it would happen with a dagger up his sleeve. He had nothing. This conversation couldn’t happen. Not now.

  “I-I don’t understand, my queen. I’m afraid it’s quite early, maybe—”

  “I know you want to be king. I know that’s the only thing you’re after. You don’t care for me at all, but sometimes you pretend so well…” She blinked glassy eyes. “Sometimes I can pretend that I don’t know any better.” Her chest tightened with every word.

  Orin sat up. “I do want to be king. You should know that’s what anyone would be after.”

  “I know.” She sniffled, fighting a losing battle against oncoming tears. “It’s just so nice when you act like you love me. Everyone is telling me that I can’t trust you, that I have to make you leave, to send you back to Davrkton. But I can’t do it. Part of me keeps hoping that this will turn out to be real.”

  “You really think it isn’t real?” He was woefully unprepared for this moment and had to stall. Why was she talking about everything right that second? With each passing moment, he realized there was no point in lying if she already knew as much as she did. She would see right through him.

  “Orin, I know it’s not real. Maybe it was at first, but it’s not anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He watched a tear roll down her cheek and suddenly felt guilty. He knew her fake tears well enough, but he did not know her real ones. He watched a second one fall.

  “Was it just too late?” she asked. “Did I just wait too long?”

  “It felt futile after a while.” He lowered his head. “You should know that your love doesn’t feel real, either.”

  “It never was. I’m sorry, Orin. You’re right. I strung you along right up till the end.”

  “The end?” He swallowed hard.

  She breathed in deep. “This could be the end. I need to ask you how you might feel if things were different. If right now, in this exact moment, they were different.” She felt so cold; she could feel his warmth behind her. “Could you ever have real feelings for me again? I want you to be honest. Forget about the king nonsense. Forget about your ulterior motives. Is it too late for me?”

  He didn’t understand what had gotten into him, and he didn’t even know the answer to her question. When he came closer, she withered up into him. He put his arms around a woman suddenly so vulnerable and foreign to him, he didn’t know what to do.

  “Anavelia, it doesn’t matter how I feel anymore because the truth is—”

  His mind went quiet. She would kill him. But he couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “The truth is that you can’t trust me. I’m not the right person. I am only in this for my own interests.”

  She sobbed, and he couldn’t help but hold her tighter.

  “Just tell me already! What is it? What have you done?” She curled up in his lap, and he gazed down at her.

  “Wait. Do you—” his mouth hung open, “—do you love me?”

  “They told me not to. They told me to make you leave, but I told you. I can’t. No matter what my gut tells me, my heart wants you here. I think maybe, if things were different, we could have this. We could actually do this. I think I am in love with you, Orin. I’m sorry. But you did something, didn’t you?”

  When he had known his efforts wouldn’t go anywhere, he felt nothing at all about betraying her, but now it hurt. He remembered how badly he had wanted to hear her say she loved him, how purely and wholly he had felt his own affection, and how it all felt like it was eons ago. When did she change?

  “If I tell you what I’ve done, you’ll have me killed.”

  “And what if I don’t? I’m still alive, so at least you haven’t conspired to have me killed.”

  Everything was ending. He felt his soul pouring out from his body and seeping into the earth, far away from him. He should have just lied. No matter what she said, he should have just kept lying.

  “I just wanted Davrkton’s independence,” he muttered. “That was the only reason I ever did any of it. I’m sorry, Anavelia.” If he’d had something sharp, he would have slid it deep beneath her ribs and into her heart.

  “If that’s all you wanted, why didn’t you just ask?”

  He was trembling. He had to stop talking. Don’t say anymore.

  “Because it’s not just independence from Saunterton.” His eyes stung but he wouldn’t let tears fall. “I’ve been trying to find a way to undo fealty to Vandroya, as well.”

  “What?”

  His hand desperately wanted to hold something sharp.

  “When my father governed, he proposed it. Davrkton had been sworn to you for ages, but behind the curtain, we’re also sworn to Vandroya.”

  “So all of my secrets—”

  “Some of theirs, too, to you.”

  She laid there and didn’t move. She was sour and sick with anger. She knew she should have killed him, but the sea of anguish snuffed the fires of rage, and she wept.

  “I wanted to be your king until I knew I never would be. Then I just stayed here to use your resources.”

  “You’re feeding all my secrets to Vandroya so they’ll—they’ll what? To what end, Orin?”

  He stroked her hair. “If I help Mabus with his problem, I think he’ll undo our fealty. I could never accomplish what he needs from Davrkton. I needed you.”

  “Mabus’s problem?” She sat up and wiped her eyes. At last, the answer she was waiting for. “Wait, is this why you pushed me to have Sinisia look for Allanis’s brother? Is he the one who needs Aleth?”

  “Yes. He’s having trouble with Lord-Hunter Cyrus and thinks Aleth could be leverage enough to force him out of Vandroya. I’m sorry. It’s put Ashbel in danger, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes!” She covered her mouth through a sob. “I was such a fool. Gods, and now Sinisia is nowhere to be found.”

  “Ah.” He wet his lips. “Actually, I met
with her late last night. She has not dropped the mission. Not exactly.” He couldn’t identify the look in Anavelia’s eyes, but it scared him.

  “What does that mean?”

  “She went to meet with Rhett Hallenar. He offered her information at a price. I convinced her to pay it. But she sent me a letter reporting back, and she said it was some kind of a trick, and he attacked her. Wanted to put something called a Malauris on her. But we’re back where we started. With nothing.”

  “Sinisia’s been working for you.”

  “Not by choice. I had to hold something over her head to make it happen. You can trust that she resents me for it.” His insides were shaking. “See? You could never love me enough to make me your king, not now. Not now that I’ve told you. Will you have me executed, or will you make me leave? Will you declare war on Davrkton?”

  She leaned in close and pressed her forehead to his. He wondered if she had the strength in her willowy arms to snap his neck as she caressed his cheek.

  “My queen?” He took a chance and put his hands around her waist.

  “Am I?” she asked. “Am I still your queen?”

  “Yes.” He said it like his life depended on it.

  “Is there any part of you that loves me? Is there anything left?”

  “You know if I say yes, I could just be saying it to survive your wrath.”

  “Then, if it’s true, you’d better make me believe it.”

  “Why? Ana, why do you love me? Why do you still want this? I’ve been dishonest and traitorous to you. Why—how on Rosamar’s earth can you love me?”

  “If the real thing feels anything like it does when we—” she sucked in a sharp breath, “—when we pretend, then I want it. Orin, I want you, I want this, and I want to forgive you and to help you. But I won’t be used anymore. So I have to know. Do you love me? And can I trust you?”

  He looked into her dark, teary eyes and didn’t know what to say or do. It was all so sudden, and he couldn’t explain why his chest was so tight when she touched him. He kissed her, disappearing into the warmth of her lips on his.