Curse and Whisper

by A J Gala

  But she had already told him that, and it didn’t matter. It only seemed to make things worse, and of course it did—she had started everything. Everything. She was the monster who had made him. She couldn’t comprehend what that night had been like for him. All she knew was the bloodthirsty creature she had become in the moment it had happened.

  But she was tired of apologizing for it. She was tired of being looked at like she had to pay for it somehow.

  She took a deep breath and crept in close to him. She could practically feel his heartbeat as her own as she pulled at the collar of his tunic to look at his bite scar. She had been so little when she’d made it. She watched him clench his jaw and swallow hard.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” she finally whispered back to him. “Nothing.”

  His rust-brown eyes, just like her own, pierced her—gutted her—with words he didn’t dare to say. She could taste the words on his lips as she leaned in, just an inch away. He didn’t believe her. His breath was short as she gently graced her lips against his.

  “Nothing.”

  She didn’t kiss him. He let out a breath and shut his eyes as she leaned away.

  “You say that, but—”

  She brushed her fingers across his cheek and leaned down to kiss the bite scar. He winced.

  “Out of all the scars on your body, this one is your least favorite. Isn’t it?”

  “It carries the worst memory I have.”

  She kissed it again and could feel her fangs against her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to go back to that moment anymore.” She paused to run her fingers through his hair. “Instead, I want you to think about this one. I’m not a monster, Aleth. And I never will be. The first time will never be who I am again.”

  She bit down, just hard enough to break the skin, and fed. She could feel he was tense as she took from him, but he said nothing as he waited for her to finish. At last, she broke away and wiped her mouth.

  “I will never forget what I was and what I did to you,” she said. “Never. I’ll remember what not to be.”

  He let out a shaking breath as he pulled her in close, pressing his forehead to hers. His hands gripped her arms tight before they wrapped around her.

  Tizzy suddenly blinked back a tear. “Aleth?”

  The half-smile he gave her was the most confusing expression she’d ever seen. It was sad, but it was warm. Even relieved. He ran his thumb along her chin before tilting it up and kissing her. He knew the taste of his own blood too well as he slipped his tongue along hers.

  When he stopped, he swallowed hard and let her part.

  “I believe you.” He pressed his lips to her cheek and gave her back Knight of the Red Castle. “Here. You should start from the beginning.”

  Vayven 12, 1144

  Alor woke, the soothing sounds of a crackling fire gently easing him out of slumber. He thought Rori would be in the room with him, or even Stormy, but there was no one. He was alone. After everything that had happened, all he wanted was to see a familiar face.

  He rolled to his side and did his best to wrap a blanket around himself, but it was heavy, and his arms were tired. Did anyone care about him? His stomach growled. He stayed put. Someone would come for him. The elves back home on Sila’Karia had taught him to be a patient boy.

  His eyes followed the drawings on the walls—Rori said they were of her favorite plants. There was one that she had called the moonstone vine. Her sketch was just as she had once described it. A twisting vine that was thick, velvety, and the color of wine; leaves shaped like little hearts; pearly flowers that were dappled white and blue and green, and he imagined them shining iridescent in the light. One of the pictures on the wall wasn’t a drawing at all but an embroidered tapestry of a plant with silver leaves. He looked toward another picture hanging on the mantle and gasped.

  “You!”

  Mariette sat and stared into the flames, not looking at him.

  “I-I didn’t see you!” Alor shouted.

  “I was right here.”

  He couldn’t argue. She had been right there. How could he have missed her when he first woke? Carefully, he slipped off the bed and wobbled across the floor to sit beside her.

  “Are you Mari?”

  “Mhmm. You’re Alor.”

  When she turned to him, her eyes stared right through him, as though he weren’t even there.

  “So it really was you in the fire,” he mumbled.

  “Can you see them?” she asked, looking back to the flames. “The other people in the fire?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes they’re people I know.”

  “They’re not just in the fire. Sometimes you can see them in the wind or the rivers or the rocks. Sometimes the trees too.”

  “What about animals?” Alor asked. “Sometimes I think I can hear Stormy.”

  “Stormy is always forgetting to talk. He forgets some of us can hear.” She turned to him again. “Some people can hear things they shouldn’t.”

  Once more, it didn’t feel like she was looking at him at all. He didn’t know what to say. It was harder to talk to her than anyone else he’d met so far.

  “Do you see people in the fire right now?” he finally asked.

  “Someone’s there, but it’s fuzzy. Doesn’t matter. I don’t need to see them. I already know a lot.”

  As strange as she was and as uncomfortable as she made him, he didn’t mind. She wasn’t mean; she wasn’t untrustworthy. She was just… weird. He could handle that.

  “You should watch your back.” She was looking at him again. Through him.

  He felt his skin crawl. And the Malauris. “What?”

  For a brief moment, her eyes focused on him. She put her finger to her lips and kept talking. “When you come back, it won’t go how you think. They were different when you left. You don’t know the people here anymore.”

  Alor could see something in the fire as Mariette spoke. A person.

  “It doesn’t matter what I say,” Mariette continued. “You’ll still come back the way you will. You’re still gonna do bad things. But you’re gonna get in trouble. I know.” She smiled and pointed at the flames. “Do you see him, Alor?”

  “Yeah! It’s—”

  “Shh.”

  She didn’t get the chance to elaborate. Giggling from outside the room cut them off, and then Gavin’s plucky teenaged student Isa skipped in with her friend Djara at her side.

  “Oh, look!” Isa clapped her hands together and wiggled her shoulders, sending her two trailing pigtails of dark blonde hair swishing back and forth. “Alor, you’re awake! And Mari? How did you get in here? Did someone drop you off?”

  Djara sighed. One small wisp of tight curly black hair had escaped the neat bun on top of her head, and she tucked it behind her ear, only for it to spring back out again.

  “These poor kids,” Djara said, shaking her head. “Their Ma is hurt, and then they lock their Daddy up. Then, to top it all off, they completely forget about ‘em.”

  Isa nodded. “No kidding! You two must be starving. Good thing we’re babysitting today! We’ve got a great spot for you two to hang out and play today.”

  Mariette huffed and put her little hands on her little waist, doing her best to impersonate an adult. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Isa and Djara giggled again and led them to a room deep in House Hallenar, away from the busy halls and frequented places. They had taken over an old drawing room, furnishing it with unused things from around the manor to create a perfect place to watch the children.

  Isa retreated to the kitchen to fetch a morning meal. She had a few ideas of hearty foods she could prepare that would be appropriate for an almost-three-year-old and an almost-four-year-old. Maybe she’d chop up some boiled eggs, or she could give them berries and grains softened with cream.

  Instead, she came back from the kitchen with baked treats and pressed juice. Djara beckoned her over to a pile of cushions by the fireplace.

  “Look, you two!
” Djara called to the children. “Isa’s back with food!”

  Alor looked up from his pile of wooden shapes, his hand clutching onto a whittled dog toy. Mariette remained fixed on the flames.

  “What are those?” Alor asked, his jaw dropping at the square-shaped pastries with berries on top. “Did Lady Lora make those? She’s a good baker.”

  “She certainly is!” Isa replied. “She made these first thing this morning. We should be eating something a little better instead of sweets all the time, but no one’s gone out to restock food stores. I guess no one’s really had time to… so Lora said it’s mostly flour and fruit that we’ve got left.” She gave a treat to each of them. “But we’ve got to eat, so here it is!”

  “Flour and fruit—your favorite!” Djara laughed. “You’re always eating something sweet after your studies. Learn anything new in Gavin’s class this morning?”

  Alor stared at the cranberry on his treat as he listened to the girls’ chatter. Mariette tugged on his sleeve and pointed to the shape that had returned in the flames.

  “Nothing new.” Isa sighed. “Just things I already know that Gavin wants me to get better at. He did say, though, that now that the storm is gone, we can start practicing outside. I’ve been telling him to let me do that for years. It’s so strange to have him finally listen.” She looked at her own treat with no appetite. “Hey, Mariette, do you know any magic? I hear your mother is quite skilled with Akasha.”

  Alor didn’t give Mariette the chance to answer, not that she would have done so anyhow. “What’s that mean?”

  Djara grinned. “This is your moment, Isa. This is what Gavin’s been training you for.”

  Isa returned her expression and sat down by the fire. “Do you know about the gods, Alor? Magic comes from the gods.”

  “I know the titans, I think.”

  “That’s a pretty good start! There are twelve gods charged with governing the year—one for each month. But the god of magic isn’t one of them. He’s in a category all his own. Do you know which one he might be?”

  The answer came from Mariette, still focused on the fire.

  “Anatanth.”

  She said it so clearly and precisely, Isa could’ve sworn it had come out of the mouth of one of the professors she used to see at the Academy. “Th-that’s right! He lives in a place called the Akashic Realm,” she said. “It’s where all the Akasha comes from. That’s the stuff that’s in magic. Every time a mage uses magic, Anatanth cuts a little tear in the veil between the Mortal Realm and the Akashic Realm to let the Akasha out. But he’s not the only one who can do it. There are other gods that he gave the ability to, and they make their own magic with it, like Time Magic or Fire Magic. Then there are gods that do it without his permission.” She leaned in and whispered to them. “Like Terror Magic.”

  “Derivachne.” Mariette sighed, unimpressed. “The Goddess of Fear. She’s not scary if you know what you’re afraid of.”

  “I’m afraid of vultures.” Djara shuddered.

  “No, you aren’t.” Mariette broke away from the fire to look at her for only a second. “Not really.”

  The room fell silent. Djara’s dark eyes were wide as she exchanged a glance with Isa.

  “Alright then.” Djara drummed on her thighs. “So, Isa! Now that the weather is nice, I’m sure the queen will have Lora or Athen go out for food again. Maybe we can put in some special requests!”

  Isa nearly swooned at hearing Athen’s name. “Maybe if Athen goes, I can go with him and show him some of our favorite spots!”

  “Uh-huh.” Djara grinned into her cup of juice. “I’m sure that’s why you’d want to go with him. To show him our favorite spots.” She took a sip, and Isa sputtered. “I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with looking into those big, brown eyes of his… or admiring that nice, strong jaw—”

  “Djara!”

  Her giggle grew into a girlish cackle. “Come on, Isa. You think I can’t tell? I’m heartbroken that you didn’t tell me!”

  Isa’s face was scarlet. “I didn’t tell you because it’s silly,” she hissed into her cup. “I feel so stupid!”

  Djara set her cup down while Isa sipped away at hers. She glimpsed back at the children sitting quietly by the fire. She had been told that the boy was the normal of the two—and compared to Mariette, he was—but she found them both to be a little unsettling. She decided it was a matter of association and left it at that.

  “Why do you feel stupid? He’s kinda cute.” Djara shrugged. “He’s not my type, but he’s cute.”

  “He’s the queen’s Right Hand! He has all this important work to do! And even if he did have time for me, there are so many others I’m sure he’d rather be with. I’m a nobody, Djara. He’ll probably be looking for some pretty aristocrat from Caequin or Saunterton.”

  “Maybe he’d rather find a rugged aristocrat.”

  “Oh gods, I never even thought of that! Maybe he would! Oh, Djara, see? I’m no good for him. I’m not even close—”

  Djara grunted and rolled her eyes. “Will you relax?” She picked at a bilberry on the top of her pastry. “That bumbling dummy is crazy about you.”

  “What? How can you tell?”

  “For one thing, he’s always afraid to talk to you. He never knows what to say!”

  Isa folded her arms. “You did just call him a bumbling dummy. You think that might have something to do with it?”

  “Don’t tell him I said that! And don’t you get it? He doesn’t want to mess up and say something stupid because he likes you and cares what you think about him!”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see it.”

  “Gavin sure does, and he’s not happy about it at all. That’s the number one sign that a boy likes you. If your dad—sorry, if your Gavin—disapproves of someone, it’s because said someone likes you, and it doesn’t matter who they are, they’re not going to be good enough in his eyes.”

  “Gavin wouldn’t care. He’s just my teacher.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Mariette whispered to Alor and motioned to the fire. “Can you see him get angry?”

  Isa ignored the children. “Fine.” She huffed and pulled apart her pastry. “Maybe Athen thinks I’m nice. Oh! But you know who I can’t figure out? Who doesn’t like me at all?”

  Djara’s grin couldn’t have been bigger. “Prince Ashbel!”

  “Yes! What did I do, Djara? Why does he hate me? He hates me! I’ve never been anything but warm and friendly to him. He has no reason for scowling at me all the time!”

  “No clue about that one. I wouldn’t keep digging, though. He seems like the kind of person who’s just going to get meaner the more you bother with it. Leave him be, and maybe he’ll come around. He is only twelve.”

  Isa knew she was right and nodded, chewing a fluffy piece with a blackberry on it. “Hey, how’s your uncle? I’ve never met him, but didn’t you say he was coming to town for something? He’s an actor, right?”

  Djara glanced at Alor for a second. “He had been staying at The Clarinet but left this morning to do a play in Saunterton for a while. Has Queen Allanis said anything about that place since he came back?” She motioned her head to the boy.

  Mariette suddenly turned away from the fire and stared at them.

  “What is it?” Alor whispered.

  “It’s bad to talk about this. They can’t.”

  Isa could barely hear them and paid them no attention. “I haven’t heard anything, no. Didn’t the queen give your mom some special mission, though?”

  “Sort of. She’s looking for the queen’s brother and sister still. You said you’ve met them, right?”

  “Oh!” Isa’s face lit up. “Yeah, Aleth and Lady Tizzy! So has your mom found anything? Does she know if they’re okay?”

  Mariette shrieked and threw her treat into the flames. Alor did the same, though he wasn’t sure why. The girls both gasped.

  “It’s bad!” Mariette shouted. “It’s bad food! I don’t want it! It
made me sick!”

  “What do you mean it’s bad?” Isa stood up and examined the fire, watching the fruit hiss and spit. “Was there something you don’t like? Does one of the berries give you a rash? Lora wouldn’t have used them if she knew they made you sick!”

  Alor saw the shape in the fire throw their hands out in fury. Then, it vanished. The flames were nothing but flames. He wished he hadn’t thrown his food away.

  “Now what?” Djara asked, standing and dusting crumbs off herself.

  Isa sighed. “I don’t know. Why would you two do that? Are you crazy? Let’s go see if there’s anything else left to eat, and no being picky!”

  Mariette flashed a tiny grin to Alor and rolled around until she was upright. “That was close.”

  “Yeah.” He wanted to be glad her plan worked, but truthfully, he wasn’t feeling well and thinking about who he was seeing in the fire made him feel even worse. He thought he felt the Malauris on his back twitch.

  Before Isa and Djara could get the children out of the room, Athen came and stood in the doorway. Isa tried to keep herself composed, but her cheeks were pink.

  “Hey!” she squeaked.

  He surveyed the scene. “Yeah, hey! Are you two babysitting?”

  Isa’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider as she stared up at him. “Yeah, we’re just making sure these two stay out of trouble! Phio—err, I mean Mister Heywood—is supposed to take over in a little while.”

  “Oh.”

  Djara barely held in a smirk as she listened to them. Athen was fumbling with his words, still oblivious that he was blocking the doorway.

  “Um, Allanis is sending me out for supplies. Did you both need to keep watching them, or did one of you want to come with me? I’ve got a pretty big list. I could use the help.”

  “Djara, d-did you want to—or would you mind if I—”

  “You two are ridiculous. Just go already!” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll cover for you if you bring me back a honey almond roll from Gio’s cart!”