Her cheeks flushed, and she blinked. “It’s what I do. Now let me examine your wrists.”
She unwrapped the bandages from around his arms. Her eyes widened with surprise. “Remarkable. You heal quickly.”
“Argh!” He jerked away and bit his lip. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He gently pressed around his wrist with the other hand. “So, you don’t know what happened?”
“Like I said, I don’t know the details, but you have severe burns on several parts of your body.” She massaged a balm around his wrist. “Since your body rejects magic, I used marrow from the ruta snake to soothe your wounds.”
“I’m lucky you know a lot about non-magic healing. Did you learn it all from your grandmother?”
“I did.” She grinned. “She was a royal healer in the House of Salutaria. She practiced a form of natural healing called medella. I once asked her why she believed so strongly in such a crude method. She taught me, although magic is powerful, it has its limitations.”
He smiled back. “She must be a powerful healer. Can she conjure healing breath?”
Aimma laughed. “You mean bring the dead back to life? No, that spell’s a myth.” She reached for a cup and gave it to Odder. “Drink this. It will help with the pain.”
“Thank you.”
She sat next to him on the bed. “So, what happened at the magicsmith’s? Where did you go?”
He stared into the cup before taking a long drink of it. “Did you hear about the dead goblin in the back room?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, Serra was back there with him.”
“Who?”
“The fortuneteller. I didn’t tell you before,” he admitted, turning the cup in his hands. “But she’s a Xenduri.”
Aimma raised her brow. “A dark elf? I told you she was trouble.”
“I think you’re right,” said Odder with a sigh.
He set the cup down and continued to tell Aimma why he left, his encounter with the mole creature under the dragon tree, and the confrontation with Renzt.
“Dreadful,” she said, with a decided look of disgust.
Odder rubbed his temples. “And now I remember more of what happened with the High Wizard. He tried to perform an exorcism. I think I blacked out at the end, but I feel like something bad happened.”
“Bad?”
“Yes. I think… I can’t quite remember.”
He glanced at the markings on his skin. The poison climbed further up his arm. “I guess the exorcism didn’t work.”
“We should find out exactly what happened.”
Odder groaned. “I just want to recover first.”
“You may not have the luxury of waiting.” She tilted her head. “But remember we do have another option.”
Odder pursed his lips and looked away.
Aimma must have sensed his angst and changed the subject. “So, tell me about this dream.”
“More of a nightmare.”
She wrinkled the sheets between her fists and leaned in closer, ready for a story.
“My mother was there.” His voice faltered as he remembered. “She’s wounded and asking for my help. I try to reach her, but the flames stop me. Then out of nowhere, these three demons – at least I think they were demons – appear and carry her off.” He squeezed his eyes shut to stop them from tearing. “I’m left alone, gasping for air, my lungs burning.”
Aimma covered her mouth and wrinkled her nose. “That’s horrible.” She reached over to hold Odder’s hands.
“I’m alright now,” Odder said. “Just a dream after all.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” she murmured.
“I’m a vekart.” He shrugged. “It comes with the territory.”
Aimma’s eyes appealed to him. “Then let’s change that. Go talk to the Oracle.”
He lifted his head – surprised to find her wearing a sincere grin. She stood from the bed and pulled him to his feet.
“Don’t you remember what the sorceress Obeah said? We’ll seek the Divine Oracle for your cure.” She led him to the door.
The familiar hushed voice whispered in Odder’s thoughts. “Don’t listen to her.”
He resisted her pull, but Aimma tightened her grip.
“What do you have to lose, Odder? Are you with me?”
CHAPTER 10
THE DIVINE ORACLE
“Even if we made it into the Oracle’s chamber, how do we know he’ll talk to us?”
“The sorceress seemed certain the Oracle would help.”
“Fine,” Odder said, not having the strength to argue. He grunted while attempting to open the door.
Aimma handed him some bark. “Chew this.”
“What is it?”
“Aspen bark. It should relieve some of your pain and give you strength.” She opened the door. “Come on, we can do this together.” She winked. “I have a plan. Just take me to the quarters above the war room.”
Servants hustled throughout the common areas preparing for the night’s festivities. Odder and Aimma made it to the second floor.
“Not far now,” Odder said. “Just around the corner and down the hall of dancing lights.”
As they turned into the hall, Odder bumped into Renzt.
“You,” Renzt snarled. “I thought you would’ve fled the city by now.”
Odder held his tongue and looked away.
“What are you doing here?” Renzt questioned. “This hall is for nobles.” He paused. “Unless you plan on thieving. I’ll be sure and let my father know what you’re up to.”
Aimma stepped between them, unnoticed thus far. “No need to be alarmed, my lord. This servant was escorting me to a room. It appears one of the lords have come down with a slight case of indigestion.”
Renzt narrowed his eyes. “And what lord would that be?”
Odder held his breath.
Aimma cleared her throat. “Lord Bacusta of Salutaria. He’s not one that likes to be kept waiting.”
Renzt snarled again and passed them without another word, ramming Odder’s shoulder painfully on the way.
Odder and Aimma exchanged brief frowns before continuing down the hall.
“That was close,” said Odder. “Is there actually a Lord Bacusta?”
“Yes. I treated him earlier this morning.”
“Good thing.” Odder pointed to the end of the hall. “There on the left.”
“I hope it’s vacant,” Aimma said.
Odder knocked, and pressed his ear against the door before entering, waving Aimma through after him.
She glanced down the hall before closing the door behind them. “Alright, here’s the plan.” She entered the washroom ahead of him and pointed at the floor. “There’s the vent. I have a rope we can use to take us past the war room and into the hall by the Divine Oracle’s chambers.” As she spoke, she untied a thin, braided rope from around her waist.
“What are we going to do with that?” Odder asked. “It’s only a few feet long.”
With a blank expression, she held up the rope and whispered, “Obtentio.” The rope doubled in size, slithering onto the floor like a benign serpent.
“Magic. Of course.”
She crossed the room and tied the rope to the bedpost, whispering the magic word several more times. “Can you remove the vent cover while I tie a few loops into the rope?”
“Don’t listen to her. She will lead you to your death,” his inner voice said.
Odder paused. “What if it breaks?”
“You worry too much. Now put your foot through the loop and hold tight. I’m going to lower you down a bit, and then I’ll climb in.”
Darkness resided in the shaft like dust in a tomb, disturbed only by intermittent light scattered above and below from other openings. Aimma continued to whisper the magic word, and the lengthening rope obediently carried them downward.
“Pff, pff.” Odder grabbed at his mouth and made a horrid face.
“What is it?”
; “Spiderwebs in my face. I hate spiders.”
“Well keep quiet. We’re almost there.”
Conversations from the war room drifted into the shaft from the next vent. The rope lengthened further until Odder peered through the vent cover.
“Wait,” he whispered. “The King, Drugan, and other nobles are gathered in the war room.
“Are you sure it’s the King?”
“I know what the King looks like. Besides, I doubt anyone else would dare wear his crystal crown.”
“Alright, I believe you. What are they doing?”
“The King is dictating a message while several scribes are air-scripting his words.”
“Can you read it?”
Odder squinted. “No, the smoke is disappearing too fast. Wait, I can see the responses –– ‘Where is the High Wizard Edan?’ it says.” The smoky sentence dissipated but another formed in its place. “‘We demand to speak to the High Wizard.’”
“What’s he doing now?
“The King is pacing and pulling on his beard.” A pause. “Now he’s talking to Drugan. He looks upset, and he keeps rubbing that hellish scar on his forehead.”
“We should keep going,” she whispered.
“Wait. Drugan’s walking toward some object covered by a black tarp.”
Drugan whipped the tarp away, revealing a petrified version of The High Wizard frozen in a looking glass – body deformed, fingers twisted, and face contorted in an unspeakable expression.
Odder’s mind flooded with the memory of the King smashing a mirror over Edan, then an excruciating pain like his brain bursting from his head followed. He grabbed his ears and gasped.
“What is it?” Aimma hissed.
“The High Wizard!” he gasped again, trying to be quiet as the memory of the pain faded.
Drugan lifted his head and moved toward the vent with cautious steps.
Odder yanked on the rope to get Aimma’s attention then pointed down. She whispered the magic word repeatedly, eyes closed as if praying until they dropped further into the dark shaft.
“Drugan,” The King’s voice echoed into the shaft. “They are waiting for an answer.”
Odder and Aimma heard Drugan’s footsteps move away.
They continued down to the next vent. Odder pushed the vent into the hall and climbed out. Aimma soon followed.
“You almost gave us away,” she said. “Why did you gasp?”
“You would’ve too if you saw how horrible Edan looked.”
“Was he dead?”
“I don’t know.” A shiver traveled up Odder’s spine. “He wasn’t moving. His body looked deformed.”
“Maybe we should tell the sorceress.”
“We can’t do anything now.”
“I’m a healer, Odder. I swore an oath. We should try to help somehow.”
“How?” Odder asked in an abrupt tone. “How do you recommend helping him right now?”
Aimma huffed. “You’re right.” She gripped her satchel with white knuckles and shut her eyes as if reminding herself of their present situation. When she opened her eyes again, her frown changed into a grin.
“What?” asked Odder, puzzled by her change in mood.
She pointed at a statue of a monk holding a pyramid with an eye in the center and a plaque with old elven words mounted to the granite walls behind it.
“We made it.” Aimma pointed her chin toward a large, circular stone door. “We just need to figure out how to get in.”
Odder stood paralyzed, his inner voice laughing.
“Odder?” She waved a hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me? We made it.”
He rubbed his eyes. “We’re really here?”
They both disentangled from the rope and stepped up to the monk.
Odder studied the statue. “Maybe the plaque has a clue, but I don’t know old elven.”
“I studied the old language as part of my apprenticeship,” Aimma said. “The syntax is complicated, and the words can have multiple meanings, but I’ll try.”
She pointed at each word. “ Vastu - your; Nestra – window; Repur - clear, Tein Votu - then you; Spectio – observe; Latampas - lamp.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Odder asked. They approached the door. “No handles or knobs,” he said.
“A window opens?” Aimma said, shrugging her shoulders. She pushed the stone upward.
Odder joined in. They pushed in, up, down, and to both sides.
“We must need a lamp.” She blew into her hand until a flame sparked to life.
“Try holding it against the stone,” he said. Aimma obliged, but nothing happened. “Try lighting it on fire.”
She blew the fire in her palm toward the door. At first, the flames grew and ignited the stone but quickly died out, leaving the door standing unscathed.
Odder sat on the floor, waving the smoke away.
Aimma sat next to him. “Perhaps a secret word is needed.”
He slumped and covered his eyes. “That could be anything. It’s not meant to be.” He looked up at her. “Maybe we should head back.”
“Don’t say that, Odder. We’re so close.” She massaged her forehead. “Think, think, think. Just like any door, we only need a key.”
Odder moaned. “I don’t see how we’ll ever figure this out.”
Aimma paused then lifted her head. “Yes! ‘See’! That’s it. See?” She jumped to her feet.
“See what?” he sat upright but was doubtful her excitement was worth standing. “What is it?
“Nestra.” She pulled him to his feet.
“Window, right?” he asked.
“Or eyes.” She smiled. “Vastu nestra repur tein, votu spectio latampas – If your eye is clear, then you can observe the light.”
Odder scratched his head. “I’m not good at riddles.”
“Your eye,” she insisted. “That’s the window!” She pointed to the eye on the statue. “You have to peer through the eye to see the light.”
He smacked his forehead with his palm then stared from the statue to Aimma. “Of course,” he muttered.
He stepped up to the monk, glanced back at Aimma who gave a nod, then placed his eye up to the eye in the triangle.
A vibrant green light flashed, leaving him dizzy. He stood motionless for several moments, then backed away blinking.
“Are you alright? What did you see?”
“A bright light, and…”
“…and what?”
“I sensed something looking into my soul. I saw flashes of memories that took me back to the moment Destin found me, and then…”
“Yes?” Aimma asked with anticipation.
“I saw something dark – something big – a creature, but for some reason, I wasn’t afraid.”
The door vibrated and Aimma gripped Odder’s hand as the door rolled into the wall. A blinding, golden light raced out of the opening filling the hall.
He pulled her toward the entry, but a magic force much like the one at the castle doors would not let her enter.
She pulled away and let go of his hand.
“Apparently, only you can enter,” she said. “Get your answers. I’ll be here.” She smiled at him, giving him reassurance, and waved him on. Odder responded with a nervous smile of his own, before turning away and walking into the light. The door closed behind him without warning.
He stood unmoving and blinked until his eyes adjusted to the enchanted glow of the chamber. He became aware, for the first time, of the silence in his head as if the inner voice had retreated in bitterness. His mouth opened as he glared at the golden dome surrounding him. “Amazing. This dome must be five stories tall.” Gold tiles overlaid the walls with tens of thousands of drifting candles. A strange thickness filled the air like one might feel on top of a high mountain. The chamber stunk of sulfur and made Odder cough.
With light steps, he approached an immense hovering disk in the center of the room. As he came closer, the disk lifted upright. A green, luminescent
liquid filled the center.
The fluid vibrated and spoke. “What answers do you seek?”
Odder’s face went pale. He cleared his throat.
“Divine Oracle, I am Odder, and I wish to know how to break the demon curse that prevents me from wielding magic.”
“Ah, Odder the vekart. Set your gaze on your feet. Do not look upon me; else your eyes will boil in your skull.”
Without hesitation, he looked down. His knees trembled. The air heated up, and he struggled to breathe. The hair on his arms stood erect. A metallic odor filled the air much like the atmosphere during a lightning storm. He sensed a presence coming out of the disk, then a thundering step, then another, and another, until the entity stood behind him. Its wretched breath penetrated his bones and Odder’s hair curled at the back of his neck as he tried to keep his composure.
“Delicious,” the Oracle said, slurring the word. “I can taste your fear.”
Odder stood petrified. “Divine Oracle, please; I only want to wield magic.”
“Is that all?” It shifted to the right side of the elf. “A powerful curse has been placed upon you. Don’t you want to know why?”
Odder trembled.
The entity shifted to the other side. “Maybe not.”
Odder spotted a bluish, translucent tail with sparks pulsating through its purple veins.
“Hold out your cursed arm.” It took a deep breath as if savoring an excellent meal. “Wrath,” he mused. “Self-Loathing, and – my favorite – Fear. These are the demons you must defeat to wield your magic.”
“How… how do I defeat such evil?”
The Oracle stepped back behind him. “Evil? Do you not remember?” It paused. “On some worlds, demons are worshiped liked Celestines, and Celestines mocked for their weakness.”
“And which are you?” Odder’s voice quivered.
“Neither!” The entity released a deafening laugh which echoed throughout the dome, making the candlelights flicker, as if trying to extinguish them. “I have seen races created and races extinct over the millennia. Elves are the most pompous and self-centered of them all.” Its tail slithered around Odder’s feet. “Your adopted race dares to believe you can bend the spirits to your will. Look around you, vekart. Magic flows in, around, and through all things as the ocean does the sea creatures. You think you control magic, but it is the magic that controls you.”
Odder- The Blood Curse Page 10