Cursed

by Christina Bauer

  “You brought Tristan here from the fires, didn’t you?” They nodded. “You wanted to see if I’d trust your judgment and follow your edicts. You want me to spare Viktor.”

  “Yes,” said the Lady. “Will you?”

  These were the god and goddess of our universe. “I already gave you my word.” I couldn’t imagine why they’d want to save Viktor, but they lived on a different plane from mine. Perhaps it all made sense to them.

  The Sire and Lady shared a long look, and then stepped away into the darkness. In their place, there appeared a small container covered in amber lacquer. A spell-box. These often held the ingredients for a potion, but with the Sire and Lady, who knew what was really inside?

  I rushed forward, scooped the box from the floor, and sped out of the tent.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I found myself in a thin alley between two tall lines of tents. Based on the long shadows around me, I must have been with the Sire and Lady for hours. It was late afternoon now. Bodies pressed in all around me as they rushed through the fair. My thoughts were rushed, too. For someone who lived my last five years in a quiet Cloister, today had been a lot to process.

  I just met the Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation.

  They gave me a leveling spell to help defeat the Tsar.

  And most of all, I held in my hands the means to end Viktor’s curse, both for Tristan and me. This could set us free from the fire. I gripped the spell-box more tightly. Here’s the key to my future. Now, I only needed to find Rowan.

  Falling into the flow of the crowd, I began my search. The fair was a sprawling mass of thin passageways. As I hiked along, the hurt in my thigh flared up again. Pain and fatigue began to play on my mind. Everything looked the same to me. I could have sworn that I walked by the same fortune-telling tent three times. Still, I didn’t see anyone who resembled a Creation Caster.

  Had Rowan left without me? What if something happened to him? I wandered through the maze of makeshift streets until the flow of the mob led me into the largest tent of all. Wooden barrels were stacked up along the walls while long tables covered the floor. Patrons held huge steins in their hands. Clearly, I’d reached the ale tent.

  I strolled by the wall and kept an eye out for Caster leathers. The crowd was too dense to be sure, but a man with tanned skin caught my eye.

  “Rowan!” I shoved through the mob and grabbed the man’s shoulder. Jakob spun around to face me. My stomach sank.

  “Greetings,” said Jakob. The word was so drawn out, I got a good whiff of his breath. Foul. I winced. That man was drunk again. What a disgrace.

  “Where’s Rowan?” I asked.

  Jakob plunked down onto a nearby bench. “Oh, he’s around. My man got worried when you didn’t reappear after a few hours, so he summoned me here to help with the search. That transport spell tied me out, so I came in here for a sip.” He scooped a mug of ale from the table and took a deep gulp. “And here you are.”

  It’s one thing to be drunk, it’s another to be completely useless. “That didn’t answer my question. I’ll find Rowan myself.”

  Jakob grabbed my wrist and yanked me closer. “Stop casting your spells on that man.”

  Speaking of magick. It would definitely bring the Midnight Cloister down on my head, but I’d love to drop a kill spell on Jakob. “Watch your mouth,” I said. “You’ve no idea what I’m capable of.”

  My left hand twitched, ready to cast. On second thought, a spell might be worth it after all.

  Rowan stepped up to stand beside us. I couldn’t decide if I was happy to see him, or disappointed that I didn’t get to cast anything. Jakob immediately dropped my wrist.

  “Rowan,” I said cautiously. I’d seen crazed bulls that were less enraged than Rowan was right now.

  “Elea.” Rowan glared at Jakob. The drunken man seemed to shrink into his bench.

  “Greetings,” said Jakob.

  “I summoned you here to help,” said Rowan. His words were low enough to be a growl.

  Jakob shrugged, but the drunken movement came off more as a shimmy. “And I was helping her.”

  Rowan rounded on me. “Is this true?”

  I appreciated Rowan stepping in with Jakob, but I had the situation under control. “Jakob was not helping, which was why I—”

  Before I got a chance to finish, Rowan slammed his fist directly into Jakob’s face. A nasty crunch sounded. I winced. That’s a bone breaking. Rowan gripped Jakob by his jacket. “When I say help Elea, you help Elea. Do we understand each other?”

  My mouth was still hanging open from where I’d been caught mid-sentence. Physical fighting was something Necromancers discouraged. It was seen as an uncontrolled display of emotion. But seeing this punch? Rowan appeared to be in complete control. I wondered if Necromancy could make exceptions. Plus, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that part of me enjoyed watching Jakob get some just desserts.

  Jakob cupped his hands over his face. “You broke my nose.”

  “I said, do we understand each other… Or do I have to smash something you can’t mend with a spell?”

  Jakob stared sulkily at the ground. “I understand you.”

  “Good. Sleep it off. I expect you back in camp at dawn.”

  “Yes, Rowan.” Jakob rose from the bench and staggered away. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.

  Rowan turned to me and gently rested his hands on my shoulders. “Are you all right? You were gone for hours.”

  “I’m fine.” I stepped away from his grip. One way or another, there had been a lot of touching with Rowan lately. I needed to be careful. “I spoke to—” I stopped myself from saying the Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation. “Oni and Yuri. Time just flew by.” There was no quick way to describe that I’d been pulled onto an alternate plane of existence by a god and goddess. At least, not without sounding insane. This explanation would have to do until we were somewhere private.

  “Did they help us as they promised?”

  I raised the box in my hands. “That they did.”

  “Excellent work, Elea.” His praise made me feel light as air. “Have you opened it?”

  “Not yet.”

  Rowan scratched his cheek. The look in his eyes said that we wasn’t certain about waiting. “Don’t you think we should check?”

  “Oh, I’m positive this holds what we need.” When a god and goddess give you something, you take it and run. “We should get away from here to open it, though.”

  “If that’s what you suggest.” Rowan patted his top pocket. “I succeeded in my task as well.”

  My brows lifted. Rowan had been searching for plans to the Midnight Cloister. “Excellent work, yourself.”

  “My team did all the hard bits before I got here, but I don’t mind taking credit.”

  I smiled. It sounded like there was quite a story behind those maps, but nothing we should discuss out in the open. “Do you know of someplace nearby that’s safe? We need to go through everything and set up a plan.”

  “Genesis Rex and his people aren’t far away. That camp is well warded. Radi and Umeme can get us there in a hour or so.”

  I frowned. An hour. I hated to wait that long, but we couldn’t risk exposure. “All right.”

  “You don’t seem happy. Is your leg still hurting you?”

  In truth, my thigh did still cause me pain, but it wasn’t my injury that kept me frowning. “It’s like this, Rowan. Every time I become excited that I’ve finally found a way to finish my mission, something happens to make matters look worse than ever.” I tapped the lid of the box. “Until we open this and reset our plans, I’m holding off on any sense of happy.”

  “I understand completely.”

  “Thank you.” It was a relief that Rowan didn’t think my logic strange. Because in about an hour, there was a whole lot of insanity that I needed to talk him through. How would I tell him that I spoke to not just one deity, but two?

  I’d have to find a way, I suppose
. I could only hope our mission didn’t suffer.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rowan and I rode our tigers across the darkened desert. Moonlight shimmered on the sand, making it look like burnished silver. Overhead, the sky wheeled with more stars than I ever thought possible. We soon closed in on the Caster encampment. A dozen tents surrounded an open fire. All of the structures had arched poles in their framework, giving the tents a swirled look.

  “Which one holds the King?” I asked. When the Tsar travelled, his yurt was made of golden cloth.

  “There.” Rowan pointed to the far side of the fire, where a pair of guards in red leathers stood outside the largest tent. Their bodies bristled with weapons. Full helms covered their faces. Rowan pulled a heavy scrap of leather from his pocket, which turned out to be a padded helm. Caster helmets were made of leather, contoured to rest against their faces, and covered everything except their chins.

  If Rowan was pulling that out, then there was only one place he planned to go. “Do you need to speak with Rex?”

  “Yes, right after I get you settled.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “That is, unless you have need of me.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” In all honesty, I was looking forward to sitting down for a while. Despite the softness of Umeme’s fur, my thigh was hurting worse than ever.

  As we closed in on the camp, a small group of Casters rose to greet us. Soon, Rowan and Radi were surrounded by a half dozen men and women. Just like back at the oasis, I was struck once again by the difference in their bodies. The men were all broad and tall, while the women were petite and lithe. Rowan slipped off Radi’s back and embraced each person in turn.

  I dismounted from Umeme and watched the scene with wide eyes. Every time Rowan’s fingers brushed mine or he held me close, the encounter was burned in my memory. Now, those embraces seemed stilted and half-hearted compared to what Casters regularly shared. My cheeks reddened as I looked away.

  “Elea?” Rowan stepped closer. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” I forced a smile.

  “Come, join the circle.” He set his hand on the base of my back and guided me back toward the other Casters. “You remember Laurel and the others from the oasis.” I could see little of their faces past their helms, but it was easy to recognize Laurel’s smiling eyes. And the man she was holding hands with must be Orion.

  I forced another grin. “Hail and well met.” Silence fell. Everyone seemed focused on me. Something wasn’t right here.

  Orion stepped forward and bowed at his waist. “Thank you.”

  “You thank me?” I stared at him once. Twice. This made no sense. “What have I done?”

  “You’ve given us the chance to protect our brethren who’ve been transformed into Changed Ones.” They all nodded their agreement. “The Tsar wishes to control their minds. Now, we can keep them free.”

  All the attention made me squirm. “Defeating the Tsar will protect both our peoples.”

  The group chattered away happily, and then fell silent. I wondered at the quiet until the reason became clear.

  Jakob had stepped into the circle. I steeled my shoulders, readying myself for a verbal battle. If Jakob wanted to go at it again, I was more than ready.

  Jakob turned to me. His leathers were no longer covered in mud, but his left eye was swollen shut. “I won’t say hail and well met. I’m certain that you don’t wish to see me again.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I came to apologize for how I acted at the fair.” Jakob looked to Rowan. “Am I dismissed now?”

  Rowan shook his head. Apparently not.

  Jakob huffed out a long breath. “My actions were terrible. I left Necromancer lands because of the betrayal of a woman. That’s my history. I shouldn’t have applied it to you.” The next words seemed as if they were wrenched from his mouth. “You’ve brought us closer to our aim than ever before. The Casters owe you a debt.”

  “The Tsar isn’t defeated yet,” I said. “But I appreciate the sentiment, all the same.”

  “Can you accept my apology?” asked Jakob.

  I pursed my lips and considered his question. I’d no doubt that if I asked for a more thorough punishment, then Rowan would deliver it. Still, Jakob looked sincere and sober. That kind of behavior should be encouraged. “You’re forgiven.”

  Jakob looked to Rowan once more. “May I return to preparations for tomorrow?” This time, Rowan nodded.

  “Now that’s set.” Rowan rubbed his palms, which was his way of saying the subject was closed. He scanned all the Casters in turn. “How fares the King?”

  “He is well and resting,” said Orion. “Rex would like to speak with you after you’ve eaten, if that’s agreeable.” It struck me how casual the Casters were about their ruler. Even with the Tsar Dmitri, that man had been treated as a mini-god.

  “And he will.” Rowan turned to me. “Would you like a warm meal?”

  My mouth watered at the thought of the roasted meat I’d eaten back at the oasis. “Very much so.” One advantage of Caster society was the lack of marrow pudding.

  The Caster group began to break up. Rowan and I approached the campfire, where different spits of meats were roasting. The scent was delicious.

  I accepted a few skewers of rabbit meat and tried to enjoy my meal. My thigh was still troubling, and I kept shifting my seat, searching for a more comfortable spot. Once I finished eating, I turned to Rowan.

  “I’d like to wash up before we start our planning. Do you have a bathing tent here?”

  “That we do.” The moonlight cast pale shadows on his sharp jawline and messy brown hair.

  “After you’ve eaten, can you show me the way?”

  “I will… Once I’ve healed your leg.”

  “My leg is fine. It only needs to be clean. Just as all of me does,” I added swiftly.

  “You’ve been favoring it ever since we escaped the Cloister. My guess is that some bit of wagon got lodged in you from the crash. The protective skin from my spell must be inside it. That leg won’t heal without my aid.”

  I searched my memory, trying to find some reason, any reason, why this was an impossible theory and Rowan should not do anything that remotely involved my bare thigh. Unfortunately, everything I knew about magick told me he was right. “Where would you cast?”

  “Follow me.”

  My heart hammered against my ribs as Rowan and I stepped away from the fire and into one of the spiraling tents. Inside, the place was neat and snug. Heavy rugs covered the floor and small baskets lined the round wall. Rowan began to fish through the different containers, pulling out herbs. I sat down on one of the more comfortable-looking rugs, being careful to favor my bad leg.

  Rowan opened one of the jars. “This is the one.”

  My heart pounded so hard, I thought it might burst. “What should I do?”

  “Hike up your skirt. I need to see your thigh.”

  He said the words casually, but my palms turned slick with sweat as I pulled up the black fabric and kept my legs firmly together. Rowan knelt before me.

  “You have nothing to worry about, Elea. I have healed many women.”

  “I see.” That thought gave me more to worry about, though. How many women has he touched in this way? And why would I care if he had?

  “I can’t heal you like this.”

  “Oh, right.” I parted my legs and he leaned in closer. This was now the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me, even worse then when I fell in the pigsty before Tristan came to visit.

  Rowan shook his head. “As I suspected. You’ve a bad infection.” He chanted over his cup of herbs until they flared into a paste. After scooping some onto his fingers, Rowan began to paint long lines down my inner thigh.

  I hissed in a pained breath as the paste burned into my skin. Rowan continued his incantation and the hurt dissolved into a much nicer sensation. For the first time since I left the Cloister, my leg didn’t hurt anymore. Rowan looked up to meet my gaze. I though
t I saw a flash of heat in his eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to be certain.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much. Thank you.”

  “I’ll send over Laurel to take you to the bathing tent. Meet back here in an hour?”

  “Agreed.”

  As Rowan left, I wished I had more romantic experience with men. Or even with one man, really. If I were fortunate enough to live past this, then I planned to return to Braddock Farm and live as a Commoner. There would be no room in my life for anything to do with magick, and that certainly included a mage like Rowan.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  An hour later, I had bathed, changed into a set of Caster leathers, and found that they were the most comfortable clothes imaginable. Once I got back to Braddock Farm, I’d never wear anything but leathers again.

  If I survived past Sunday, that is.

  Tomorrow at sunset, my curse would officially start. I shivered as images of my afterlife appeared. Flesh melting away from bone. Smoke, pain, and death… Only to be restored and burned once again. An endless cycle through eternity.

  Rowan stepped into the tent, interrupting my dismal thoughts. He paused. “What’s troubling you?”

  There was no point in pretending. “My curse.”

  Rowan sat down beside me. “We’ll fight that, Elea. With this new magick against Viktor, I’m sure we’ll win.”

  Perhaps he was right. After all, the leveling spell came from none other than the Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation. I set down the spell-box onto the rug before me. “This holds what they called a leveling spell.”

  Rowan frowned. “You still haven’t opened it?”

  “There’s something you should know before we do that. I’m not really sure what Oni and Yuri gave us. It could be anything.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve seen spell-boxes like these before. Usually, mages place herbs inside them.”

  “Oni and Yuri aren’t typical mages.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this to another person without the benefit of heavy drink in my body. “They are deities, Rowan. Oni and Yuri are really the Lady of Creation and the Sire of Souls.” I was pleased with how sane I sounded when I said that.