The Warrior's Curse

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  Whispers rising from the street said they called themselves the Alliance, and that they were led by a young Halderian king no one had ever heard of.

  A young Halderian king I tried very hard not to think of. If I was going to survive this, he had to be only one of the others, one of many who would soon bow to me when I took the Scarlet Throne for myself.

  And it would happen tonight.

  “I agree,” I said to Joth. “It’s time to act.”

  With little else to do, I continued polishing the Olden Blade, and now I could clearly see my face in it. I didn’t know why I had put so much effort into the blade—a shine made no difference in how sharp my stab would be. But still, I continued to polish.

  Joth placed his hands over mine. “Are you worried?”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned in closer to me, but I refused to acknowledge him.

  “You’re still angry with me?” he asked. “Because of the Ironhearts?”

  “What if Simon’s sister was one of our victims?”

  “If she was, then it’s because the Ironhearts pose a threat to our reign. We cannot leave any of them alive, unsure of their loyalties. But when we rule from the Scarlet Throne—”

  I looked up. “I will take the Scarlet Throne. I am its heir. And I will rule alone.”

  He stood, his body stiff with sudden anger. “Alone? You have not gotten this far alone, nor will you complete your task alone.”

  “The help you have given me does not qualify you to take what is mine. Your reward is all that I have done for your people, all that I will still do.”

  “That is their reward, but what will you offer me? We joined powers, Kestra—what did you think that would mean? We are not simply using each other for magic—we have connected our lives! I told you that would happen.”

  “You told me it often happened, not that it must happen. And I will be the exception, Joth. I will take the throne alone. If you cannot accept those terms, then you may withdraw now and lead your people back to permanent captivity in the forest.”

  His face reddened, but he finally got his temper under control and said, “None of this matters if we fail to defeat Endrick. Let’s keep our attention there. The rest can be decided later.”

  We barely spoke another word to each other as we made our preparations to leave. Joth had ventured into the city earlier that day and obtained for me leather pants, a belted tunic with protective padding on the shoulders and elbows, and a new cloak to protect me from the wintry cold, though with all the ice inside me, I hardly cared about the snow outside. I wound my hair into a braid and had just put the Olden Blade in place against my thigh when a knock came at our door.

  My head shot up, and I looked over at Joth, who didn’t seem at all surprised. Which told me two things. First, that no matter how often he claimed that we were working together, he was still holding back from me. And second, that he must have had some warning from the half-lives who were keeping watch on this place, which meant I did not have full access to his magic.

  Yet he seemed to have full access to mine. That would have to change, and soon.

  Joth crossed to the door and opened it. I arched my head in that direction, but relaxed as soon as I heard, “Darrow.”

  I rushed to the door, intending to close him into an embrace, but I paused when I saw him. For as long as I’d known him, this man had been a servant, and a friend. I’d thought about him hundreds of times since figuring out who he was, but I had never known him as a father.

  Yet there he was. As alive and whole as he’d been before that night when the Coracks stopped my carriage and shot him, then carried him from my sight. That seemed like ages ago, and everything was so different now.

  Different enough that I could only widen the door for him to enter and greet him with, “Hello, Darrow.” Nothing more.

  He shifted his weight, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. Maybe he had expected more from me, something that I was incapable of offering. But why should it have been otherwise?

  Finally, I asked, “How did you find us?”

  “The half-lives brought him here,” Joth said, then to Darrow added, “Where is Loelle?”

  “Captured by the Brill as we tried to sneak into the city. I don’t think they’ll harm her, though they said they’d give her to the Coracks. I can’t say what they will do to her.”

  Nor could I. Loelle had worked with them for years as their trusted physician, but I knew now that her service had nothing to do with loyalty. She had been waiting for the Coracks to find an Infidante … to find me. Once I’d been chosen, Loelle had manipulated the situation to ensure I obtained magic, then taken me away from the Coracks, solely within her control. Forgiveness would not come easily to her, if it came at all.

  I looked from Darrow over to Joth. We had just learned that his mother was being returned to the very group she had betrayed, and he didn’t seem particularly concerned. Would I respond the same way now, if it had been Darrow in captivity? Was I similarly hardened?

  Joth saw me watching him and, with almost no emotion, said, “You know the Coracks better than anyone. Will they harm my mother?”

  “Not if they have any reason to keep her alive.” Which should have been a thin comfort, but it seemed to fully satisfy Joth. For my own sake, I added, “Loelle is a great healer. That might be enough.”

  Joth slowly nodded. “Then we’ll take care of the task ahead of us first.”

  “I suggest you go prepare for it now.” Darrow gestured toward the door, and his voice became stern. “Let me speak with my daughter.”

  Joth’s eyes darted between Darrow and me as he contemplated what to do. Finally, he licked his lips, then excused himself, saying he would ready our horses. Darrow and I remained facing each other. He looked me over and seemed to understand why I was dressed this way.

  “So the attack is tonight?”

  I tilted my head. “How much do you know?”

  “I know only what Joth has communicated to the other half-lives.” He stepped forward. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  I considered telling him about Simon, and almost did, except that when I opened my mouth, no words came out. I had no way of explaining to my father what I could not explain to myself.

  His brows pressed together. “What else, Kestra?”

  I shrugged. “There’s no one else.” I winced, even as the words came from my mouth. I should have said there was nothing else. Surely Darrow would catch the mistake.

  If he did, he put that aside and instead said, “I’ll come with you.”

  I considered that for a moment. “You can’t help me. And besides, I must focus on Endrick. I won’t be able to protect you.”

  He smiled. “What a cruel twist when the daughter must protect her father. Kestra, I am not asking to come. I am coming. All I need to know is how I can best help you succeed.”

  I hesitated. As much as I respected my father, he was a liability if anything went wrong. But he still was my father.

  “You may come,” I finally said. “But you must understand that I have only one purpose tonight, and that is Endrick’s death.”

  He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on me as I crossed to a small fireplace we had rebuilt enough to cook food without burning down the building. “There is tea here, if you’d like it.”

  Darrow noted the cup I was using to pour myself a drink. “How many of those do you have?”

  I smiled. “This one is all we found in the wreckage. Meanwhile, the Coracks have taken up residence in Woodcourt with some of the finest porcelain dishes in all of Antora.” I took a sip for myself, then handed the rest to Darrow. “How did you escape All Spirits Forest? When we flew overhead, it was surrounded.”

  “It was, until you flew overhead. The Ironhearts saw that dragon and must’ve guessed you were on it, because they left almost immediately to return here to Highwyn.”

  Joth ducked his head in the door. “It’s time to leave.”

  I
started forward, but Darrow said, “Wait.” He added, “When you restored me, I sensed that something was different about you. And now that I’m here, I know it is. You’re in trouble.”

  I shook my head. “No more than usual. I’m the same as always, only with magic now.”

  “No, you’re not the same.” Darrow put his hand on my arm. “Can’t you feel the difference yourself? For I see it in your eyes and sense it in the tone of your voice. Soon, that difference will be as visible as the graying scars on Lord Endrick’s face.”

  I pulled away from him. “That is not true.”

  “It is, and if it would matter, I would give my life to change that fact. But you must fight this, Kestra, at least as hard as you are about to fight for Antora.”

  “For now, that is her only fight.” Joth widened the door. “It’s time for you to leave, Darrow.”

  I nodded toward him. “My father will be helping us tonight. Before we leave, he should understand our plans.”

  Joth frowned over at Darrow. “We don’t need him.”

  Darrow stepped forward. “I don’t have magic, and maybe I’ve been half-dead for so long that my skills with a disk bow aren’t as sharp as they ought to be, but my daughter is going into a battle. I will be there with her.”

  “Your daughter is the battle,” Joth said. “All you will do is get in her way.” When Darrow refused to step aside, Joth finally sighed. “Very well. We’ll find a more … peripheral place for you.”

  “I already know my role. What Kestra has to do is something only she can do. My job is to clear every other barricade in her way, if I can.”

  “I will do that,” Joth said to him. “You take care that you are not one of those barricades.” He pointed out the window toward the palace. “All right, here is the plan.”

  While Joth reviewed the details with my father, I watched as Joth’s eye occasionally brushed over me, slight irritation in his gaze to remind me that he’d rather it was just the two of us moving forward.

  Little did he know that it was not the two of us now, and it never would be. Tonight we would ride under the cover of darkness, determined to make an end of things before the night was finished. Whatever happened tonight, I had no intention of leaving the palace. By morning, I would either be dead, or I would be sitting on the Scarlet Throne.

  I took one glance at Joth.

  I would sit on the Scarlet Throne … alone.

  Only two days ago, I had met with the other leaders of the Alliance. But for all that had happened since then, it might have been months. So many people had come and gone, seeking direction for each new development, that I could hardly keep up with the whirlwind.

  It began with the arrival of Reddengrad’s army. Basil received an enthusiastic welcome when he went out to greet his people, though he still walked with a limp and seemed to startle at nearly every loud sound. He wasn’t ready yet for any fighting.

  Not long after, Huge and his patrol of Corack soldiers brought Loelle in as a captive. She looked exactly as when I had last seen her a little more than a month ago, although considering the way she had betrayed us, I expected to see at least a glimmer of humility or fear. If she believed things would return to what they had been before, she was mistaken. I could never think of her with the same respect and friendship as I once had.

  Loelle was taken into the library to face Tenger and me. Imri had insisted that she be allowed to attend as well, but I flatly refused. Clearly there was some animosity between Imri and Loelle, and it must have run deep. Imri left the room telling everyone within earshot of her personal verdict, that Loelle be sent to the dungeons until a proper trial could be held.

  Once the library door closed, muffling Imri’s anger, Loelle turned to Captain Tenger and me, saying, “Surely the judgment of the Brill carries no weight among the three of us.”

  Tenger and I sat on one side of Sir Henry’s desk. He offered her a seat, but she shook her head, insisting that she could better defend herself on her feet.

  “Then by all means, do so,” Tenger said.

  “I will be vindicated in the end,” Loelle said. “For years, I listened in on the Corack plans, all of them ambitious and well-intentioned, but not one with much chance of succeeding. Finally, we found Kestra, an Infidante with access to Dominion strongholds, and uniquely qualified to unite all of Antora. We might’ve used her to her full potential, until Simon fell in love with her. Then every consideration had to be worked around that, and we were failing again. We all know that.”

  “If you wanted a change of plans, you should have taken them through me,” Tenger said.

  “And how would you have answered, if I explained I needed to isolate Kestra in All Spirits Forest for weeks, using her magic to rebuild my own people?”

  “I’d have said no,” Tenger said.

  “We needed the half-lives to get this far, and we will need them until the end. Your decision would have been wrong.”

  “That is irrelevant. Even if I had been wrong, that still does not mean what you did was right.”

  “I can accept that,” Loelle said. “But it’s been done and I believe my actions will be the key to Endrick’s undoing. If you disagree, then you must determine my punishment.”

  Tenger looked at me. “What do you think?”

  I leaned forward. “You will return to the service of the Coracks, Loelle, as before, healing anyone you can. In every spare second otherwise, you will work on a solution to help Kestra.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t you think I’ve been trying? Simon, the guilt I feel for what has happened to Kestra overwhelms me. I will not work for a solution because of a punishment. I will keep trying because I owe that to her. But I must be clear. Nothing I have tried gives me any hope of helping her without killing her. And I fear the corruption is spreading to the boy who travels with her, Joth. My son.”

  Joth had already explained this, but the tenderness in Loelle’s voice was unmistakable. I said, “Get yourself something to eat, and set up a medical station in this home. You must find a solution, Loelle. Please find it.”

  She had only barely left when Imri Stout came in with another report on the activity nearer to Endrick’s palace. The Brill had begun patrolling areas around the palace at the closest possible position of safety. It was clear from their reports that Endrick sensed an attack was coming. As far as we could tell, he was drawing all Ironhearts in from every region of Antora, gathering them around the palace like a living fortress.

  “If we succeed in getting past so many soldiers, it will come at a high price,” Imri informed me. “There must be another way.”

  There wasn’t, not that I had yet figured out. Because it wasn’t only the Ironhearts that concerned me.

  He had oropods and carnoxen on the ground and giant condors in the air, searching for any signs of danger. Interestingly, their riders paid us little attention as we patrolled. We suspected their only orders were to search for Kestra.

  When the time came, I would use Rawk to fight the condors, but even as powerful as the dragon was, we would be only one against twenty or more.

  The Halderian cavalry would be the best matched against the oropods, but the speed and ferocity of an oropod was almost double that of our horses. Even if we won in the end—and that was far from certain—with the number of losses we would endure, it would feel like a defeat.

  “You need to get Kestra to talk to us,” Tenger had told me more than once.

  We knew where she was. She and Joth had stationed themselves on the upper floor of a tall building that had been abandoned for as long as I could remember. The plaster was crumbling and the wood had begun to rot, but the fact that it was so visibly unsafe likely made it an ideal hiding place, and its height would give them a good view of the palace—perfect for making their own plans to attack.

  The Coracks kept a steady watch on the building as we did our patrols, yet the same magic we had encountered before held us back here too. It was possible that Kestra didn’
t even know we were trying to contact her. Or if she did, after our last attack on her, she likely had no interest in speaking with us. With me.

  “Then we’ll continue watching,” Tenger said. “When she and Joth attack the palace, we must be there.”

  “Whether she wants to admit it or not, she will need our help,” Imri said.

  “They don’t seem to believe that,” I said. “And your idea of help might be different from theirs.”

  Before Imri could make yet another objection, Trina rushed into the library where we had been meeting. “Simon, your cavalry is here.”

  I stood and straightened my tunic. “Tell Harlyn.”

  I’d barely seen her over the past two days, and in the few times I did, we were always among so many people that we’d scarcely said three words to each other. I’d begun to think that she was avoiding me.

  I walked from the library to the entry hall of Woodcourt. Gabe was there, staring out the front window. “You’re their king?” Gabe said. “Those riders are twice your age.”

  “They don’t consider me their king,” I replied. “If you want a good laugh, watch them pretend to respect me when I go outside. If I even get that much honor.”

  I made a move in that direction, but Harlyn came rushing down the stairs behind me, her eyes wild as if in a panic. “Simon! Don’t go out there yet!”

  “Why not?”

  She paused to catch her breath, and when she seemed a little more settled, Harlyn said, “I told you that we had to talk. I’ve put it off for as long as I can, I suppose. Can we talk now?” She briefly eyed Gabe, who made a quick excuse that he had to finish dressing for patrols that evening.

  Harlyn took my hand and pulled me into a quiet alcove of the entryway. She lowered her eyes and seemed to be searching for a way to begin our conversation.

  I waited for her to begin, and when she didn’t, I prompted, “Is this about the cavalry?”