Wielder's Curse

by Elle Cardy

  A bright arch of daylight shone at the end of the tunnel, glinting off a tangle of bobbing flotsam. Jasmine turned herself around for a better look. Splintered wood, old rags, rotting vegetables, and bloated animal carcasses were either caught against the walls, or dragged along with the fetid water.

  Aurelius didn’t say anything. He didn’t even cry out. She hoped it was because he was afraid to open his mouth. With one hand he clung to his door, with the other he held onto his nose. The stench was ... indescribable. It was so rank Jasmine could barely breathe.

  The opening of the tunnel rushed toward them. The kid’s door caught on a crumbling side of the tunnel and stopped. He gasped on impact. As Jasmine swept past, his hold on the door tightened. Blue sky grew larger. A faint roar grew louder. A muddy bank came into view. Old reeds grew over the rushing water. With a quick twist of her body, she checked on the kid. The current had dislodged his door and swept him toward her.

  A sudden change of current pushed Jasmine under. She gurgled a surprised cry and fought her way to the surface. Her fingers found a clump of reeds, and she pulled. Foul water and sweet air mixed in her throat.

  The bank and the river ended in a drop not far from her.

  She caught Aurelius’ torn sleeve as he passed. His momentum tugged hard against her grip. The door was creating too much drag.

  “Let the door go,” she cried.

  “I’ll drown,” he said, hunkering against the door as water rushed over him.

  He was wrong if he thought that thing was going to save him. Had he not looked ahead? Could he not hear the roar of falling water?

  “Let. It. Go.” Her grip on his sleeve was slipping.

  “You got me?”

  “Yes!”

  He let go, and the door spun away, disappearing over an unseen edge. He did a mad dogpaddle, flailing and splashing, threatening to loosen her hold on him. It took all her effort to pull him to the bank. When he grabbed his own clump of reeds, she let go.

  Fighting the growing weakness in her limbs, she hauled herself over the rotting, muddy bank and pulled the kid up with her. He collapsed beside her while she coughed up her guts to expel the water she’d swallowed.

  Beside them, the river dropped away into a thundering waterfall. Not a deep one, but deep enough that it would’ve done damage to them on the rocks. Scum collected in the water below, a stain of filth flowing into the river, mingling with the red mud along the banks and out to sea. The Order would know where the outlet went and would find them soon. They had to get moving.

  Jasmine coughed up another lungful of foul water and dragged herself to her feet. The afternoon sun dipped at an odd angle. Aurelius’ steady hand prevented her from falling. It took all her strength not to sink to her knees again.

  “You have your freedom,” she gasped out. “Use it wisely.”

  She needed to get back to the Prize. Somehow. If it was still anchored in the harbor. Marcelo could’ve convinced Durne by now to leave.

  “I can’t leave you like this.”

  Jasmine wasn’t about to argue. If she was lucky, then the Prize would stick to its original schedule, which meant it wasn’t due to leave until morning. In her current state, she could be too slow getting back to the ship. The Order would be looking for them. They’d probably enlist the townsfolk to look for them too. She didn’t think she had the strength to hide herself, let alone hide them both. Even if she could, they stank worse than a dead fish on a hot summer day.

  A coughing fit overcame her. When it passed, she had to admit she was feeling woozy.

  They made their careful way down the forested hill. Where the sunlight got through the trees, the afternoon shadows grew long. They kept clear of any paths, which meant scrambling over rocks, through weeds and tangled shrubs. It was slow going, but Jasmine didn’t think she could move faster. When they reached a fringe of buildings that led into the township, Aurelius insisted they stop to rest.

  “I can keep going,” she said as she sank against a stone wall. Her throat tightened. She tried to suppress a cough but it only made it worse. She gave up trying and hacked out a loud, painful bray that dredged up flecks of yellow spit.

  “You don’t sound so good,” the kid said. “You need to rest a while longer.”

  The light had aged, turning burnt orange. A warm evening breeze stroked her face. They had time. She could rest. Jasmine closed her eyes.

  When she woke, the sun had long set, and the night was deep and dark.

  “Aurelius?” Her voice sounded weak and breathy.

  Where was the kid? He should’ve woken her. Using the cold wall for support, she dragged herself to her feet. She swayed. When the town remained upright, she looked around. There was no sign of the young wielder. Gley’s warning pushed into her thoughts.

  He’ll betray you.

  The kid had probably run back to his precious Guardians. If he had, then he’d probably try to curry favor with them by telling them where they could find her.

  Muttering a few choice curses, she took her bearings then staggered in the direction of what she thought was the harbor. She didn’t get more than a few paces before Aurelius stepped in front of her.

  “You should be resting.”

  Jasmine scanned the area around them, paying attention to the shadows and spaces that could hide anyone. No one else was in sight. That part of town was quiet.

  “I found a blanket hanging from someone’s window,” he said. “Thought this would help.” He held up a thin blanket with a colorful geometric design. “You were shivering in your sleep.”

  “Much appreciated,” she murmured, a little bewildered.

  Aurelius tried to guide her back to where they’d come from.

  “Not that way. My ship is that way.” The opposite direction. She could feel it. It yearned for her as she yearned for it.

  “You can’t possibly make your way through town in your current state.” He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

  Her clothes had mostly dried while she’d slept, but they were stiff with mud and filth. And there was still that smell. The warmth of the blanket soaked into her being. She wanted nothing better than to close her eyes and sink into that feeling.

  “I can’t,” she murmured. Her head had begun to ache. Without sight of the moon, it was difficult to tell the hour of the night. She wondered if the Prize would leave without her. Maybe it already had. That thought alone spurred her on.

  Wrapping the blanket close around her, she staggered through the back streets toward the harbor. The smell of the sea gave her strength. The streets were quiet. Most folk were tucked in their beds, asleep. The air carried a crisp hush that settled like mist before dawn.

  Aurelius hissed and pushed her into an alley. “You need to hide us. Now.”

  Jasmine wasn’t sure she could. The sound of running feet echoed against the stone walls. A swirl of power pushed through the air ahead of them. The power searched. Jasmine grabbed hold of Aurelius and wielded. Pain drummed through her head, but they were hidden.

  Five men dressed as scholars came into view. Two guards flanked them. Wielders, all of them. Their combined power was a storm in the street. Jasmine sank to her knees, dragging Aurelius down with her. Pain stabbed behind her eyes. The Guardians’ power swept into the alley. It broke over them and pushed past. It searched the shadows, the hidden nooks and crannies.

  Sweat broke out on Jasmine’s forehead.

  “Stay with me,” Aurelius whispered.

  A roar filled her ears, like the rush of water, only louder. It came from within and blocked her thoughts.

  “They’re gone,” someone said down a distant tunnel. “Jasmine, do you hear me? I said they’re gone.”

  Curling into a tight ball, she covered her ears with her hands. Some force pulled against her. Darkness surged around her. A boiling sea drowned her.

  “Jasmine!” Power rippled beside her, faint and tentative. “You can stop wield
ing.” Power in the kid’s voice cut through the roar, blanketed it, muffling it.

  She stopped wielding and uncurled. Sickness and pain claimed her. Her whole body shivered.

  Aurelius looked on with wide, frightened eyes. He’d wielded against her and had deadened the roar. She hadn’t known he could do that.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Aurelius licked his lips and glanced around. “The Order may have felt my wield.”

  “Not while you were hidden with me.”

  “You can do that? Hide another’s wielding power?”

  “While you are hidden, all of you is hidden.”

  He shook his head in a kind of wonder. Or maybe it was fear. “To do that would take…” He shook his head again. “It’s time I got you back to your ship.”

  Aurelius helped her up. Her stomach lurched, and her knees gave out.

  “Lean on me,” he said and helped her up again.

  The street was clear, and they walked at a slow, painful pace. Aurelius did well to keep her on her feet. He made a good support. Something in him had changed. He seemed more capable. More determined.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Just focus on staying upright.”

  By the time they reached the wharf, the faint glow of sunrise touched the sky. The air felt crisp, and the cool breeze smelled of the sea. Much to Jasmine’s surprise and relief, the Wielder’s Prize was still anchored in the harbor. Three cheers to Captain Durne. There was still a chance to escape the wretched town.

  They hid behind the old shack near the pier, the last cover before they had no choice but to step out, fully exposed. With dawn came activity. Apparently, it was a good time to fish, because countless men had gathered along the pier and cast lines into the water. It also meant time was running out.

  “How’re we going to get to our rowboat now?” Aurelius asked. When she didn’t answer, he took on a strained expression of someone deep in thought. “The fishermen won’t care if they saw us. There’s no way they’d know we were being hunted, right?”

  Jasmine sank into a clump of grass and leaned against the rotting wood walls of the shack.

  Aurelius swore. “Didn’t we tie our rowboat at the end of the pier?”

  “Aye,” she said, her heart sinking. From the tone of his voice, she didn’t need to search for the boat to know it had gone missing.

  That was the end of that. Now that the Guardians knew where to find him, Finn was more vulnerable than ever. Since their bait had escaped, the Guardians would be coming after him. Without a way of getting back to the Prize, Jasmine could do nothing about it. She’d failed Finn, and she’d failed the ship.

  An old overturned bucket beside her looked like a mighty fine candidate for a pillow. Jasmine rested her head on it and closed her eyes.

  Aurelius made a sharp movement and ducked against the shed’s wall. “Stay quiet.”

  As if she had the strength to make a fuss.

  The crunch of heavy boots on gravel drew near. Jasmine didn’t move or care. They’d be discovered. They’d then be placed into slavery. If not slavery, then a silencing, which would be a thousand times worse by feeding the Beast her power. Her immense power.

  She winced at her colossal stupidity. If she were silenced, the Beast would be freed from its prison. Slavery was her and everyone else’s best option. And yet, the thought of living the rest of her days without her ship, without the swell of the sea beneath her feet, was too much to contemplate.

  A shadow appeared around the corner of the shed. A big looming shadow.

  Aurelius swung a loose fist. The shadow caught it.

  “Mind yourself, boy,” rumbled Brusan’s deep voice.

  Jasmine laughed a soft breathy chuckle.

  Brusan’s knees cracked as he crouched by her side. “Good to see you, lass. You had us worried.” With that, he picked her up in his arms as if she were six years old.

  For just that briefest of moments, Jasmine let go her anger at the man and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. A small tear escaped her eye.

  PART TWO

  Chapter 13

  Jasmine lay crumpled in the bow of the rowboat while Aurelius clutched the sides in the early ghost light of dawn. Brusan bent his back to long powerful oar strokes, making the boat glide through the water toward the Wielder’s Prize. With each stroke of an oar, new strength flowed into Jasmine until she sat up and took a deep breath of the salty harbor air.

  “Feeling better, are you, lass?” Brusan asked as he pulled on the oars.

  “How’s Finn?” When she’d left him on her foolish quest to find his attacker, he’d been unconscious in the infirmary.

  Brusan shook his head in a kind of wonder. “Your power is mighty impressive. Had no idea.”

  Aurelius had a green, tense look about him as he stared off at the gloomy horizon.

  She needed to hear news of Finn, not praise for her power. Especially not from Brusan. “Finn?”

  His expression darkened. “He left the infirmary on his own two feet to return to his quarters.” Brusan had made it sound like a bad thing. Surely Finn walking around on his own was good. “He didn’t want no visitors.” Jasmine still didn’t get it. “He was downright surly.” That wasn’t like Finn.

  “I’ve seen it before,” Brusan said, his large muscles bunching with each pull on the oars. “A wound can run deeper than blood and bone.”

  A hacking cough took hold of Jasmine. She held onto the gunwale and tried not to convulse against the fit. Her coughs sounded like the brays of a donkey.

  When it passed, she chose not to make eye contact. What Brusan felt wasn’t honest distress. It was guilt. Let him live with that shame because, as sure as the sunrise, she wasn’t about to forgive him for all his lies and beatings.

  She kept her eyes on her ship as they drew near. The Prize was a truly magnificent ship. Three tall masts towered over a finely crafted hull that could cut through waters faster than most ships her size. In the early light, the silhouette of the masts, lines, and yardarms made the ship look like a bare forest in winter. The sight of the cannons down the sides would be enough to make anyone hesitate before attacking. Despite her concern for Finn, seeing her ship made her feel like she could breathe again.

  They got to the Prize in record time. As soon as she could reach the rope ladder, she scrambled up. She needed to see Finn for herself.

  The moment her feet touched the deck, First Mate Cagg flagged her down. He was new to the Prize. One of many sailors replacing lost crew after Kahld’s madness, he was picked up at Jalicoo in the Southern Isles and came with a long list of commendations. Jasmine hadn’t fully worked him out yet but had decided he was an honest man.

  She couldn’t ignore a superior, so she stopped and hoped he didn’t want her to run some errand. “Aye, sir.”

  “What, by Alcazan’s beard, happened to you?” His wide nostrils flared.

  She was a mess. There was no denying that. Maybe the mud and sewer stink would make him think twice about roping her into some task.

  “Never mind,” he said as he smoothed down his goatee. “Captain Durne wants to see you immediately.”

  “Can I change first?”

  “Immediately.” His eyes and teeth flashed in his dark face. Before she could respond, Cagg went back to overseeing a flurry of activity on deck.

  On her way to see the captain, she pulled magic from her ship. As Brusan had said, Finn was in his own quarters. Her power didn’t let her see him clearly, though. Darkness clouded her vision. Jasmine slowed. For a terrifying second, she thought the vision of the boiling seas was about to overcome her. It didn’t. This was something else. Something in Finn’s room?

  Jasmine turned on her heel and ran for Finn’s quarters below deck. The phantom could’ve returned. The terrible power that had attacked him could be making a second attempt. Memory of the entity in the Guardians’ pen lengthened her stride.
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br />   When she arrived, Finn’s door was locked. She pounded on the wood. “Finn, let me in.”

  “Good to have you back,” he called. “Now go away.”

  That wasn’t like him. “Let me in or I’ll force myself in.”

  “I said go away. I don’t want to see anyone.”

  Her ship lent her strength and magic, filling her with power. She breathed it in and swam in its currents. Using only a small portion, she sent it into the lock. A faint click at the door’s latch said success. She entered.

  Finn lay in a crumpled bed, the sheets strewn about the floor. He scowled at her as if she was some nuisance. Well, too bad. If helping him meant she’d have to inconvenience him, then so be it. She did a quick check. As far as she could tell, there was no phantom or power in the room with them, no cloud of darkness, no hidden assassin.

  Jasmine approached and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.

  Finn squirmed away. “I’m fine. Go away. You’re filthy, and you stink.” He did seem fine. His color was good. He wasn’t hot to the touch.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “No.”

  “Can I see your wound?”

  “Just go away.”

  Jasmine let out a long slow breath. Brusan had said some wounds ran deeper than blood and bone. Perhaps he was right. Finn had never locked his door. It made sense he would now. He’d never been surly, either. Dog-headed, yes — angry, even — but not surly. Being attacked by some unknown assailant had to have affected him.

  “What exactly happened in town?” she asked as she sat on the edge of his bed.

  He twisted the corner of his sheet and didn’t look up.

  “Finn?”

  A scowl was his only response.

  She should’ve felt empathy, but instead she felt angry — and shamed by that anger at the same time. He was supposed to be the stronger one, to be there to help her with this mess. He was supposed to be the calm, knowledgeable one who could deal with anything and everything that came their way. And here he was, hiding away in his room as if that could make a difference.