“J.C. is that you?” Sarn squinted into the light. It soothed the ache in his head, and that made it easier to think. The voice sounded like his friend, but how could he be here?
“Does it matter what voice I speak with or the face I wear? You know the truth. You knew it earlier when the Adversary was twisting things. That’s why you stopped the Question, isn’t it?”
“It didn’t feel right,” Sarn admitted, but this did. “So it was always a question of belief?”
“Yes, belief is power, and it powers one of the magics you bear. The other works differently. There’s a separate trial for that one.”
“You mean it has a different question?”
“Yes. You bear two magical gifts. A different question unlocks each one.”
“You’re here to help me unlock the white one, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask your question.”
“Is magic dark, or is it light? Is it truth or lies? Is it right or wrong? Is it about might or mercy? What is your truth? That is the only question that matters. What you choose will define you. So choose wisely.”
“How can I choose anything else? Magic is light and hope, and all that's good. It’s always been that way for me since I was a small child.”
But that wasn’t all that his magic was. It was protective, strong as the foundations of the earth, a constant companion, and all the things he wanted to be. It was also a finder, and a safety net when he did stupid things, and a force that could grind a mountain into dust if he wasn’t careful.
Something stopped Sarn from admitting all that because those were the characteristics of the green magic, and its truth seemed to change with the circumstances. Sarn leaned his head back against the cool, damp stones of the tunnel wall.
“Then may the light inside you always shine bright.”
With a pop and a hiss, that white fire was back and merrily burning in his heart and his eyes. Its rays dispelled the darkness that had taken root from the Adversary's touch. It warmed Sarn from the inside out, but it couldn't heal him. Neither could he do anything useful with it.
The white magic curled up like a contented cat inside Sarn. He still felt cut off from the world. I need the other one, the green magic back. But this trial was over, and the light was receding into his pendant again, and he had no idea how to invoke it again. How can I find the question that unlocks the green magic when it’s always changing?
“What just happened?” Jersten blinked at them then recoiled. “What happened to your eyes? They’re silver and glowing. Does that mean you got your magic back?”
“One of them,” Sarn admitted.
“Then maybe you can use that gift to identify this.”
He tossed the rock, and it spun as it flew.
“No, Papa, it’s a bad rock. Don’t touch it.”
Ran knocked his hand away. The crystal landed on the ground between them and released the soul trap hidden inside. It slammed black hands into the white glow surrounding Sarn and his son, which shielded them but not Jersten. A black vortex surged out of that rolling stone. It crashed into the con man and ripped his soul out of his body, then it tipped over on its side and the winds whipping around it sucked everything into the crystal at the center of that maelstrom.
“Unnatural!” shrieked his magic as it redoubled the shield.
I must stop it. But when Sarn tried to rise, he couldn’t. Those winds slammed into him, and he struck the wall hard and slid down it. Pain radiated down his arm, numbing it because the white magic didn’t cushion his impact. No, that had been the job of his earth magic, but it was still gone.
“We have to go, Papa. You have to carry Bear for me. Bear will need his spirit home.”
“Okay,” Sarn said, and he felt small hands digging around behind him.
Ran wedged his stuffed bear’s legs through Sarn’s belt, and gave his friend one last pat to ensure he was secure. “Okay, Bear’s ready. Let’s get away from that bad rock.” Ran pointed. “I saw J.C. go that way when the Question thing ended.”
“You did?”
“Yes, let’s follow him. He looked sad and tired. He must need help.”
Indeed, he must because the promise Sarn had made so many hours ago to help J.C. now tugged Sarn in the direction his son had pointed. Ran scampered on ahead. His little shoulders were set in a determined line. He didn’t want to lose J.C. again, and neither did Sarn. He had a promise to fulfil, and he wanted to see that through to the bitter end no matter what happened.
Hang on J.C. We’re coming, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you. Sarn crawled after his son, shielding the boy from the pull of that bad rock with the white magic that refused to do anything else.
“Hurry, Papa. He might be in trouble.”
“Don’t run too far ahead. Stay close to me, son.”
“Okay, I don’t like the darkness. Can you make more light, Papa?”
His magic gave a resounding ‘yes’ to that question, and his skin glowed. Light extended in every direction, pure and white, banishing the darkness.
“Yes, I think I can.”
“Thank you, Papa! Let’s go find J.C.”
“Yes, let’s. Just don’t get to far ahead of me. We don’t know what other tricks that bad rock has.”
“You think it might come after us?”
“It might. Everything else has.”
“Oh, you’re right. Crawl faster, Papa, so Bear doesn’t get hurt.”
“I’ll try.” And Sarn did. He would crawl to hell and back to help J.C. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be necessary.
“Watch out for the monster, Ran. I hear banging, and I think it’s coming from ahead of us.”
“Oh, the many-armed monster scares me.” Ran dropped back to walk at his side at last.
“It scares me too, but I’ll bet J.C. knows how to defeat it.”
“And he’ll tell us when we find him.” Ran smiled and marched onward.
They would face this last menace together like a father and son should. Maybe they’d survive it if Sarn could get his other magic back, and he would damn well try to find the question that unlocked it. I am magic. I don’t just believe in miracles, I make them happen.
Death’s Sword Becomes Her
A sharp crack rang out as golden flames erupted along the Adversary’s giant black skull. They wreathed his head in a lion’s mane of fire. He screamed as flames jetted out of his eyes and mouth. That fiery skull shuddered and with an audible pop of displaced air, morphed back into a hooded man with no legs revealing Ranispara brandishing Death’s sword. She must have circled around behind the Adversary in the fight.
“That fire was a nice touch. I need to get one of these,” Ranispara grinned like a loon, but oh God, she was a welcome sight.
She whistled in appreciation and twirled the blade in her hands, and Nolo felt like laughing at the sheer absurdity of his best friend’s wife wielding Death’s sword. That must be breaking God only knew how many rules, but he was so glad she’d done it. Nothing else could have wounded that fallen angel.
“You!” The Adversary whirled around, claws raised to rend her, but they bounced off the Queen of All Trees’ flaming mark. It was still glowing on Ranispara’s clothes, and some of its fire leaped onto the Adversary before he danced out of range.
“Sorry bub. Someone else has a prior claim on me. So, keep your hands off, or I’ll slice them off.” Ranispara swung the blade, but the Adversary went incorporeal, so it passed right through him. “Hey, that’s not fair.”
“What is fair? Who determines it? Exactly. Fair cannot exist so long as free will does,” the Adversary said as he tried unsuccessfully to snuff out the angelic fire consuming his robe.
“That doesn’t sound logical. So, we’ll agree to disagree on that.”
Ranispara circled the Adversary without ever once seeming to look down at the narrowing ledge she rounded. She stopped when she was between Nolo and him. A giant hole now separated them from the Adversar
y. Since he was floating over its center and conveniently out of reach of both Ranispara and Death’s sword, that hardly mattered.
“Coward. So you’re just going to float there where I can’t hit you.” Ranispara tsked. “I guess you’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”
The interlocking circles that comprised the Queen of All Trees’ symbol glowed even brighter as she swung that blade again. This time it connected with Nolo’s attacker and decapitated it before it could free one of its six arms to block her.
Nolo rolled the creature off him just as it started to dissolve and took his first untroubled breath in quite some time. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You’d have done the same thing for me, my brother-in-arms.”
“So, the White Witch has a new handmaiden,” the Adversary said as he tossed his ruined robe aside and generated a new one to take its place.
Ranispara spun on her heel and brought her sword up in case the Adversary wanted to go another round with her. She was covered in dust but looked better than fine otherwise. Something about her was different and it wasn’t just the Queen’s mark or Death’s sword.
“I prefer champion. ‘Handmaiden’ makes it sound like I do her sewing. And just between you and me, I’m not much of a seamstress. But I’m pretty handy with blades thanks to my older brother.” Ranispara grinned and raised Death’s sword for round two.
Confused souls circled them. Death’s sword must be drawing them to it because that aforementioned angel was still trying and failing to free herself. Some souls were silently screaming while others drifted away, searching for their bodies or their loved ones.
But they didn’t get far before an invisible force grabbed them. As they spun around it, their luminous bodies outlined a funnel sucking them down into the hole in the floor that Sarn had fallen through. Is this your doing, Kid?
“No!” The Adversary dove after them dragging his two captives with him. As death dropped from sight, her sword vanished, and Ranispara looked crestfallen at her empty hands.
“Damn, I was hoping I could keep it. That sword is damned useful against supernatural baddies.”
A loud crack startled them then pure light shot through the hole, stabbing at everything with searching beams. Nolo threw his arms up to shield his eyes before that beautiful light cooked them. Did you do that, Sarn? Did you get your magic back? I will find you as soon as I can see again.
“Good one kiddo, hit ‘em again.” Ranispara punched the sky in triumph. “I always knew you had it in you.”
The remains of the floor tilted, and they scrambled aside seconds before a tentacle punched through the spot they’d just occupied.
“We’d better get a move on. Here, let me help you with that. You look as rung out as I feel.” Ranispara offered Nolo a hand up. He took it and scanned her for injuries but if there were any, she hid them well. “And if you tell my husband about any of this I’ll flay you alive.”
Nolo glowered at her. “Gregori is my best friend. I don’t like keeping things from him.”
“And your wife is my best friend. Do you want me to tell her what you’ve been doing?”
Nolo dropped her gaze. Inari didn’t know much about the whole ‘Death’s Marksman’ thing. He’d kept it from everyone except the Rangers because they brought the Marksman out.
“I didn’t think you’d told her. You should and soon.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Does it need to be? She’s been with you for a decade now. Isn’t it time she knew the truth?”
Ranispara was right as always. Damn her.
“Okay fine, but I’ll tell her when I’m ready, not before.”
“Then we have a deal.” Ranispara glanced down into the giant hole in the floor and whistled at the sight.
“What about Gregori?”
“I’ll tell him. This whole thing just came about today. So I’d like some time to figure it out, not ten years, but surely I’m entitled to a few months. She’s not exactly easy to get ahold of or talk to, our Sylvan Queen, and I’d like to know more about this whole ‘handmaiden’ thing, and what it means for me before I tell anyone.”
“True. All right, how about this, we have one year to tell our respective spouses about our extra-curricular activities. How does that sound?”
Ranispara nodded. “A year should be plenty of time. I get the feeling the Queen of All Trees will be hanging around Mount Eredren a lot more often in the coming months and years.’
“Because of Sarn?”
Ranispara mimed releasing an arrow in his direction. “You got it. Now, where is our favorite indentured servant? He’s usually with you at this time of night.”
Nolo pointed down into the hole. It was a ragged wound in Mount Eredren, but there was nothing he could do about that. Nor would the Litherians return to fix their marvel after its current stewards broke it. No, that hole would be there for a long time. Foot traffic needed to be diverted from it, and the surrounding area needed to be checked for stability, and a hundred other tasks sprang to mind.
“What’s he doing down there?”
“He fell.”
“I gathered that. How long before he gets back up here and rendezvous with you?”
“No, you don’t understand.”
Nolo shook his head unable to say it, to name his fear. Nor could he tell her Sarn had lost his magic prior to the fall. He might be dead down there and lying dashed on the rocks. While that beast was still pawing through the wreckage, he couldn’t go down there, not without reinforcements. Instead, he asked what should have been his first question.
“Why were you looking for us? Has something happened beyond the usual shenanigans?”
“Nothing as dramatic as this.” Ranispara swept her hand over the destruction. “Do the Guards know about this? The Lower Quarters, which is what I presume is at the bottom of that hole, is their jurisdiction.”
“That monster goes well beyond what they can handle even if they are down there.”
“True, but Sarn’s down there, and he has magic. I’m sure he’s helping. Do giant monsters count as acts of God?”
“God doesn’t create monsters.” Nolo rubbed the back of his head. It hurt, and so did a lot of other parts of him.
“Don’t tell the council that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I suggest we take a walk to our commander’s office and strongly suggest he send some people down there armed for bear to help. And Su can get a look at you to make sure only your ego’s dented. Come on.”
“But Sarn—”
“Can manage on his own for a little longer. He’s a grown man capable of making his own decisions. Plus, he’s got more magic than he knows what to do with, and he’s in a situation where throwing it at the nearest monster can only help matters.”
But Sarn has no magic. Nolo’s conscience pricked him when he stayed silent rather than admit that. Sarn could have gotten it back by now. It might have been some mental block or something. God knows—that kid has serious problems. Besides, Ranispara needed to believe Sarn was magically armed and dangerous, and so did he even if it was a lie.
“God always leaves a way out. Trust in him. He has one for your apprentice. Believe it until you feel it as fact,” said the Marksman as his presence ebbed away.
Perhaps this was the way out. Yes, God must need me to call out the cavalry. Message received. That’s why You sent Ranispara to find me. After all, we have free will. And I choose to get Sarn the help he needs.
Jerlo would call out the Rangers for this and find some way to justify a joint operation with the Guards inside Mount Eredren. It would be illegal as all get out, but Jerlo had pulled off miracles before.
“Come on. The sooner we reach the commander, the better.”
Nolo didn’t protest when Ranispara pulled his arm across her shoulders, nor did he drag his feet when she set off in the opposite direction of the hole through which Sarn had fallen.
You had better be okay
, Kid. I’ll never forgive you if you die.
“You’ll know if he does. With his dying breath, he will call for us,” said the Marksman then it went silent and still inside him to wait for need to draw it out again. May that day be long in coming, but Nolo knew it wouldn’t be.
To be continued in Curse Breaker: Hidden, coming soon.
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Memoriam
This book is dedicated to my sister Carolyn who died in 2014 at the age of 29. Before she died, she requested I publish Curse Breaker: Enchanted and its sequels. I hope Amazon delivers to heaven, so she can see her last request fulfilled again. Curse Breaker: Sundered, book 5 of the Curse Breaker series published on November 20, 2018.
Carolyn, this one’s for you. It’s chock full of angels, demons, brothers, sisters, adorable kids and monsters behaving badly. There are lots of bells and angels getting their wings. I hope you get yours soon.
I miss you sis. 2018 was a hard year. I set many editorial goals and tried to fulfill them all and fell short. I’m picking myself up and trying again in 2019.
Thank you for always being there even when you were mad at me. I will never forget you or my promise to you. I’ll keep publishing stories until I have no more to tell. I only wish I had finished more of them this year. I will do better next year.
I got this!
—Melinda “the scribe”
Curse Breaker: Sundered Page 36