Curse Breaker: Sundered

by Melinda Kucsera

  “We need to get out of here,” Iraine said, but her calming voice was nearly drowned out by the others.

  “How? We’re trapped.”

  “Into the water,” Nulthir shoved the Guard in front of him, but he fell on his side, his eyes wide open in death. “No,” he closed Jorik’s eyes and stumbled over other bodies clad in the Guardsmen’s blue uniforms.

  “It’s Sven and his squad,” Draya said as her numb fingers let go, and Sven slipped back under the water. The bearded scourge of the Guards was missing half his face.

  Nulthir rushed to the next body and turned it over. A sheet of blood covered her features, but he could still make them out. Mad Maisley was dead. As her cold body slid from his hands, a glimmer caught his eye.

  Iraine squeezed his shoulder as he staggered past her to the waves lapping against the shore. It was an underground river. Who knew which one. Nulthir scooped cold water up in his shaking hands and splashed it over his face. Magic tickled his skin.

  A large chunk of the ceiling broke free and plummeted toward several tentacles, but they darted out of its path. The chunk slammed into the river kicking up an enormous wave, and the closest tentacles shied away from it. There must be something in the water it doesn’t like.

  “Get into the water, now,” Nulthir shouted over his shoulder.

  As he rushed in, tiny lights in the depths winked on and floated toward Nulthir. Lend me your power and then what? What could he do against such a creature? I’m not a mage. And Nulthir could only recall a dozen runes if he was lucky.

  “The Shining One,” Thing One reminded him from his perch on Nulthir’s shoulder. “You must find him. He can stop this.”

  There was one rune that might work for that. Nulthir traced it on the rough water, and those motes flocked to it, outlining it. A black mist curled along the shore, but it didn’t cross the running water.

  “What is it?” Agalthar peered around Nulthir at the shape bobbing on the wavelets, but it didn’t do anything.

  “It’s supposed to find the Shining One, but I don’t think I cast it right.”

  “Maybe there’s not enough power in the water to—ah—power the thing,” Iraine said skirting around the word magic. She had no qualms about using whatever tool came to hand even if they were mystical in nature, but the others might not be so tolerant.

  Nulthir let out a frustrated breath and slashed his hand through the symbol to banish it. On contact, it wrapped around his fist, sheathing it in a gauntlet of white light that almost yanked him off his feet as it pulled him through the water.

  Thing One launched himself into the air and called out triumphantly, “Shining One, we come!”

  Maybe we’ll finally find him. But Nulthir kept that thought to himself as he tried to stay on his feet despite the sharp tugging of the rune.

  From far off, a voice sounded, “seek and you shall find,” and it raised the hairs on the back of Nulthir’s neck.

  Was that you, Shining One? Did you tell me to seek you? But that was crazy. They still hadn’t found the Shining One, so how could he have spoken to the man?

  But I’ve heard that ‘seek and you shall find’ thing before. Nulthir struggled to remember as the rune finally knocked him off his feet, and he fell face-first into the water. But he never struck it. More glowing motes rose to meet him, and they held him above the water.

  “What the hell is this?” Iraine asked. She, too, must have been swept off her feet.

  “It won’t hurt you,” Nulthir said, hoping she heard him over the shouts of the remaining Guards, who were probably being carried in a similar fashion judging by all the splashing and cursing. Draya’s manic laugh confirmed it.

  “Now this is the way to travel. Onward!” that crazy Guardswoman shouted.

  “Is this the Shining One’s doing?” someone else asked.

  “I think it might be,” Huwain replied, and Nulthir agreed.

  Onward indeed to the Shining One where everything ended.

  Ladies Love a Good Swordfight

  Well, well, well, what have we here? Ranispara eyed the blade half-covered by rubble. It was made of no metal she could identify, but its leather-wrapped grip was calling her name. Well, not literally because swords only talked in bards’ tales, but the longer she stared at it, the more she wanted to pick it up.

  Well, why not? I’m not on duty. My shift ended hours ago, and who’s around to care anyway? Nobles and their ilk never descended to this level unless they needed something or someone since all the specialists and administrators lived and worked on this level. So who would notice if she, a woman and a non-noble one at that, scooped up this fine-looking sword?

  No one, so Ranispara quietly lifted the rocks pinning it and freed the blade. It didn’t sing like the special blades in the bards’ tales she’d grown up secretly loving, but this wasn’t a Guardian-Blade either. In fact, it was nothing like any sword she’d ever seen, and she’d seen quite a few since her brother Alric had joined that chivalric order what’s its name—the Knights of the Holy Balance or something like that.

  Their name made the order sound like it was run by a group of militant accountants, and she used to tease him mercilessly about that. She had such fond memories of those days, but now wasn’t the time for a walk down memory lane, not with a tentacular horror dismantling things. So Ranispara swallowed her disappointment at the lack of fanfare and scanned what she could see of the area through a gaping hole in what had been a wall until very recently.

  The sword had a bluish tint to its curving metal blade, and it kept catching her eye. Never one to dawdle when bad guys were about, Ranispara slid out of cover with the sword gripped in her right hand. It was a short sword meant to be wielded single-handedly, which was perfect because that’s how her brother had taught her to fight with a sword.

  Of course, he’d only agreed to teach her after she’d threatened to tell their mother about the girl he was secretly seeing. I’m sure he was doing more than wooing her. More memories tumbled into her mind, adjusting her stance and grip as she searched for the baddie that had been chasing her. They brought all that training to the fore again. The sword seemed to attract them, and that was no bad thing since she hadn’t lifted a sword in many years.

  Where are you, creep? Not here. There was no sign of that winged black humanoid thing that had chased her into this corridor. It definitely wasn’t human. Are you lying in wait for me?

  As Ranispara crept around another pile of broken masonry, she peered over the collapse column diagonally across from her. There was Nolo still pinned down on that narrow ledge. An amorphous black blob sat on him and kept spawning more limbs to immobilize him every time he managed to get even a finger free.

  Neat trick. I could use some extra arms when I visit my sisters and their broods. Too bad that blobby thing was the enemy’s goon. The blade quivered in her hand in anticipation of taking a slice out of it. But there was a more important bad guy she needed to take out first. Where was that creepy guy in the cloak? And where was his minion? Neither one was in sight, but she heard voices and turned toward them.

  Hmm, the big baddie must be on the other side of that really big rock pile. It was at least twice as tall as Sarn, but it provided plenty of cover for her to circle it and hopefully come at the head bad guy from behind.

  Before Ranispara could move on, a severed head caught her eye, and she almost had a heart attack until she noted the lack of blood. It was made of marble and only painted to look like flesh and blood. But the head glared at her, and its crystal eyes seemed to track her every movement thanks to the care the Litherians had taken in carving those monstrosities.

  Ranispara shook herself then hurried away from that statue and its creepy stare. A tree glowed whitely against her dark green tunic, lighting her way. And she needed that light because the lumir crystals in the mosaic spanning the entire length and breadth of the ceiling were winking out, row by row as a black fog rolled over them.

  I wonder what that stuf
f is. I didn’t think anything except a mage like Sarn could extinguish a lumir crystal.

  Ranispara tucked that question away for the next time she ran into Sarn. He would know the answer. Lumir crystals were his specialty. And getting into trouble is mine. Ranispara fought a grin at that errant thought and edged between two slabs of stone. One scraped at her back and the other at her front, but the Queen’s mark didn’t waver.

  Once she was through, Ranispara dropped into a crouch and checked her shirt front. That lacy design of a stylized tree was still there on her person. How did I acquire you? I don’t remember ever meeting the Queen of All Trees.

  But clearly she had because she was staring at a boon given by that entity, and she had a feeling that meaning was important. A golden circlet sailed toward Ranispara, and she ducked. It ricocheted off the rocks she’d just squeezed between and sailed toward the sound of a fight in progress.

  Before Ranispara could jump up and join it, a memory stirred in the recesses of her mind. It was vague but in it, the Queen of All Trees had asked her something. Did I say yes?

  The answer to that question was suddenly important. It might make all the difference in the end.

  [Earlier]

  “Inari, are you, all right?”

  Inari nodded and shoved something—one of her tarot cards probably—under her shawl, which was draped over the basket she carried. Inari preferred not to advertise her gypsy ways, though Ranispara had no idea why. Her friend was an expert card reader, and they'd passed many pleasant evenings with that deck and its predictions.

  “You’re sure? You were standing there gawking for a good five minutes before I reached you.”

  Shouts drew Ranispara’s attention to the other side of the meadow and beyond it to the enchanted forest on the west side. She shaded her eyes and squinted at a group of men shaking their heads in utter perplexity. Not a good sign. Who or what got lost this time? Please, not another one of those lap dogs.

  Ranispara recognized the look of a frustrated searcher. But he hadn't seen her yet so technically, his problem wasn't hers yet. But it would be as soon as he noticed her Ranger greens. Maybe he wouldn’t. It was awfully bright out here since the sun was doing its level best to cook them, and it was only mid-May.

  “How’d the reckoning go? Give me the highlights for now, but I want the whole story as soon as I’m off work. If I get off tonight.” The lack of other Rangers was worrying especially if a big problem was brewing.

  “What reckoning? What are you talking about?” Inari gave her a blank look.

  “Your meeting with Sister Psychopath. Don’t play coy with me. I want all the gory details.”

  But that still didn’t jog Inari's memory. Her friend rubbed the heel of her hand over a spot just below her collarbone and looked as perplexed as those men over there.

  “Oh, come on, you did talk to Aralore didn’t you?”

  Inari shook her head and scanned the meadow for her sister. “She’s here? Where? I don’t see her.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t bash your head in? You’re acting funny.” Ranispara pivoted so her back was to those men and their problem.

  I'm not the only Ranger on duty. Someone else can find whatever they lost. I'm due for a short break. And Inari wasn't making any sense. Might that be due to sunstroke? It wasn’t hot enough for that, but dehydration did strange things to the mind, so maybe that was why Inari didn't even recall that meeting. Her friend had gone to talk to her sister a while ago.

  Before she could offer her half-empty hip flask, Ranispara froze as her gaze snagged on a white light standing in a break in the forest. That light softened to reveal the Queen of All Trees in all her splendor, and Ranispara’s mouth dropped open. She tried to point to the Queen of All Trees in case Inari hadn’t seen her, but the Queen of All Trees’ radiance stretched across the half mile of grass and wildflowers separating them and enfolded Ranispara in a soothing silver glow.

  Oh, my Queen, ask me, and I will serve you. Ranispara wanted to fall to her knees and pledge this Queen her service like the Guardians of old, but she couldn’t move. Joining their hallowed order had been her dearest wish all her life. The impossibility of fulfilling such a desire had never factored into the equation because wishing for the impossible was safer than wishing for something society would never grant her because she was a woman.

  “But you have a husband and a job,” her conscience reminded her. “You can’t serve her because you have obligations, and the Guardians of Shayari are men, not women.”

  “Shut up,” Ranispara told her conscience before it could parrot all the misogynistic bullshit she’d heard all her life. According to THEM, women couldn’t do anything except cook, clean and have babies even if their desires lay elsewhere. THEY said I couldn’t become a Ranger, but I did. And I’ll do this too if the Queen will have me. Life isn’t always about sacrifice.

  But her conscience was right about one thing. The Queen of All Trees couldn’t possibly be here to ask for her service because she was already a Ranger and technically, already working for the Queen of All Trees. Jerlo liked to gloss over that fact, but that didn’t change the truth especially since the Queen of All Trees was quite real and interested in Mount Eredren and its doings.

  Ranispara had spent several weeks secretly researching the Queen of All Trees and the Rangers’ origins after Nolo had claimed to have seen her last month, and all that research was about to pay off.

  “I never doubted you were real.”

  No, Ranispara had just found it improbable that the Queen of All Trees could be interested in Podunk Mount Eredren and its doings. The stronghold wasn’t even a proper city just a vertical sprawl of tunnels, people and statues.

  The Queen of All Trees inclined her crown in what might have been a nod. Did she just hear everything I just thought? Ranispara blanched and opened her mouth to say something—anything to mollify the august presence staring at her. But the ground raced away.

  When it stopped, bark slid across her hands. When she looked down, a silver branch no wider than her thumb had wrapped around her hand. Ranispara stared at it. What do I do now?

  Light blinded Ranispara. When it backed down, a woman had replaced the tree. She wore a lacy silver gown that glowed and a white-lumir-crystal-encrusted crown. Ranispara dropped to her knees then remembered she was supposed to curtsy. But she wasn’t wearing a skirt, so she stayed on her knees and blushed furiously.

  “Ranispara, daughter of Eunice, would you serve me in life and death and all the days in between if I asked? Would you be the hero you long to be, Ranispara, if I asked it of you?”

  “Yes, yes, oh God yes.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. This wasn’t how it had happened in the bards’ tales, but Ranispara shoved that irrelevant thought down. That was fantasy, and this was too real and too wonderful to be true, but she had wanted it all her life. The Rangers had been a poor substitute for this divine service.

  “Then consider this a promise between you and I. When I can ask, you will be the first one I choose. You will carry the Legend into the future.” The Queen of All Trees lifted her arms up and held them palm out in a blessing.

  “From earth to earth, you will be the arm of my justice. You will protect all people, serve the Lord Our Father and uphold the Sacred Balance. Your will will never falter, and your heart will never be corrupted. You will be my Guardian, now and forever, Ranispara, if you wish it.”

  “I so wish it.”

  “Then commend all the days of your life to me, and the bargain shall be struck. I will call upon you when the curse upon my Guardians is broken.”

  “You’ve always had them. That’s why I became a Ranger. I wanted to serve you.” And in some small way, the long-deceased Guardians of Shayari, her childhood heroes, as well.

  Of course, when Ranispara had signed on, the Queen of All Trees had been nothing more than an awesome legend, but there had been something noble about serving a legend that had attracted her nineteen-year-ol
d self.

  And there were rumors that a few Guardians-in-Training had banded together to start the Rangers. Rumors she’d confirmed only yesterday, proving she had followed in her heroes’ footsteps. It had been a good life all things considered. There was never a dull moment with the Rangers, which is what she’d wanted. Of course, Ranispara hadn’t told Jerlo that, or he never would have hired her.

  “Then arise, my future champion. Be my handmaiden for now. Until I can arm you properly, take my light with you when you go. Call upon it at need and go, before the Adversary discovers what I’ve done.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I evened the score. He has his wraiths, and I have my Guardians—I mean—handmaidens.” The light surrounding the Queen of All Trees brightened at her slip of the tongue. Was that deliberate?

  It must be. From what Ranispara had heard, the Queen of All Trees always had a purpose. Well, I guess I have a new research topic. I want to know more about the Handmaidens of the Queen. Just saying their name struck deep chords in her memory. There was definitely a storied history there.

  “Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”

  The Queen of All Trees flashed Ranispara a brilliant smile before transforming back into a giant tree. The wind soughed through her branches, sounding a lot like a sigh of frustration probably in regards to the curse.

  Could she be talking about Drigorem’s Curse? That was something Ranispara needed to research too since she knew little about it. I better ask Inari to help me before this list gets any longer. But how do I tell her about this?

  “I never am. Keep the Legend alive in your heart until it’s time to bring it forth into the world.” A silver branch tapped Ranispara’s chest and a lacy white design spread across her tunic. “Now go before you’re missed. There’s trouble coming to the mountain, and they’ll need your skills.”