Wielder's Curse

by Elle Cardy

  Under the direction of their slave wielder, Tarb’s group stopped at an unmarked door. Aurelius’ quarters. They tensed and burst through. The kid cried out and threw his book at the Ambrosia officer. It bounced off and fell to the deck.

  “That’s not him,” Tarb said.

  His slave gave the officer an apologetic shrug. Without a word to Aurelius, they moved on.

  The collared wielders were weak. Unable to look farther than the room they were in, they pushed themselves to search the ship. The one with Grimley in the mess made his power crawl from him like a puff of creeping mist that stretched and thinned as it searched under tables and into cracks. He even sent it to search the canary’s cage, which amused Jasmine. Nothing like being thorough.

  The door to the galley was closed. Jasmine could count on the fingers of one hand the times that door had been closed. She assumed Brusan hid Gley in there. Recalling how Gley had been careful not to be seen in town, Jasmine was sure the girl was wanted for something. Grimley pulled open the door. No one was inside.

  Gley could disappear, but she had no reason to hide Brusan as well. Unless Brusan had requested it because he too was a wanted man. Jasmine didn’t know what to think.

  Holding on to Finn, she closed her eyes and drew more power from the floorboards. With that power, she did a thorough search. She didn’t need to move from room to room like the collared wielders. She let her magic fill her ship. Her thoughts soaked each room, each hidden space, each crack and cranny aboard. She saw every space that could hide a large man and everywhere in between — she even checked the bird cage.

  She found nothing. Brusan and Gley were not on board.

  A sick feeling rose inside her. If Gley had done anything to Brusan… She couldn’t finish the thought as her anger boiled. The ferocity of her emotions surprised her. It seemed she still cared for Brusan. As ridiculous as that sounded, her concern for the man remained.

  Philips tossed to his side, dragging his tangled blanket with him.

  “What are you doing?” Finn whispered in her ear.

  She waved him to silence. It was difficult to split her concentration between the two groups while keeping Finn and herself hidden. It was like patting her head with one hand while rubbing her stomach with the other. Trying to keep control of her anger and fear was yet another distraction.

  The door to the infirmary crashed open. Tarb and his people crowded into the small room. Annoyed at herself for the surprise, Jasmine pushed Finn behind her as Tarb’s wielder searched the room with his magic.

  “Anything?” Tarb asked.

  The wielder cocked his head to the side. “There is something here.”

  One of Tarb’s sailors approached Philips’ bed. “This ain’t him.”

  With his booted foot, Tarb lifted the corner of a blanket hanging from a cot and peered underneath. A token effort, considering the cots were too low to hide under. “There’s no one else here.”

  Philips groaned and threw off his blanket. His skin shone with sweat. His blood-shot eyes flew open, and he stared straight at Finn.

  Jasmine swore a silent curse. Her magic had failed her. Again. She gathered more magic, readying to fight off the men. She would do anything she could to keep them from harming Finn.

  They didn’t react. They didn’t even make eye contact. Maybe Philips alone could see through her power. Perhaps it was because she trusted him enough to unconsciously let him. Whatever the reason, the sailor needed to quit staring at Finn.

  She waved at him and put her finger to her lips.

  “What?” he said, looking dazed, disheveled, and not all there.

  When his gaze flicked back to Finn, recognition lit his eyes. He gasped and tensed and clutched the sides of his bed.

  “Get away from him, Midge,” he hissed.

  The man had lost his senses, caught in some fever dream. She’d seen it before. When a sailor was overworked or sick, he’d go sleepwalking. Once, she’d had a whole conversation with Brusan. His eyes had been open, but he hadn’t been there. When he woke, he’d had no memory of it. He’d then cuffed her for lying.

  Tarb let out an uneasy chuckle. “He’s a line short of a hoist.”

  Philips rolled out of the cot and fell onto the floor. “Midge, listen to me.” He spidered backward as if he scrambled to escape a monster. “He’s dangerous.” He knocked into Tarb’s legs and glanced up at the Ambrosia’s officer.

  Tarb didn’t move. His thin face broke into a crooked half grin.

  Philips stretched an arm out toward Jasmine. “Please, Midge.”

  If he were a wielder, she might’ve thought his madness came from the Beast. But Philips was no wielder.

  Grimley and his people arrived in the passageway outside. The Sirocco’s officer pushed his way into the small room. “What’s going on?”

  Finn’s hold on Jasmine tightened.

  Grimley’s wielder was looking directly at him. “Found ’im.”

  “What you on about, Pyn?” Grimley asked, casting his gaze across the room.

  Tarb and his crew startled, their gazes locked on Jasmine and Finn.

  She muttered a curse. Her magic had completely failed her. Again. What use was it if she couldn’t keep control of it?

  A slow grin crept over Grimley’s face. “There you is.”

  “You’ll be coming with us,” Tarb said to Finn.

  “Do you even know why he’s wanted?” Jasmine asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” Grimley drew his dirk from a short scabbard. “I could retire with the amount of gold them scholars are offering. So the kid will be coming with us. Without no fuss.”

  “Kill him!” Philips screamed. His body shook. His hair was plastered to his face dripping with sweat.

  Tarb’s hand went to his hip where a serrated swordbreaker rested in his belt. Durne hadn’t allowed the boarding parties to be armed with anything more than short blades.

  “Kill him!” Philips cried again.

  “And lose our bonus? Sorry, Mate,” Grimley said and advanced.

  The Guardians probably wanted to kill Finn themselves by silencing him. Not only was it the worst way to die, it would feed the Beast. The thought of Finn being silenced was too much to bear.

  “You’re not going to lay a hand on him,” Jasmine said.

  Grimley laughed. “What’re you going to do about it?”

  “Careful,” Pyn said to his master as he drew on his power and connected it with the other tagged wielder. When it touched the other wielder, it flared, growing surer and stronger. The other wielder didn’t seem aware of the link.

  This was something new. It was like Tarb’s wielder acted like a magnet to Pyn, giving him the strength to do more and see more than he could’ve alone. It also made him stronger than the two wielders combined. Interesting. Very interesting. Jasmine had to know how that was done. Possibilities floated through her mind.

  “The girl’s a powerful wielder,” Pyn said. “It was her power that hid them.”

  “I said, kill him!” Philips screamed. He surged to his feet, punched Grimley in the face, and snatched the dagger from the officer’s hands.

  Grimley howled as he clutched at his bleeding nose.

  Philips launched at Finn.

  Jasmine knocked Finn aside and wielded. Nothing happened. With little choice, she used her body to block Philips’ attack. They both crashed to the floor.

  She rolled so she could get a better grip on the madman. Catching the hand that held the dagger, she rammed it against the deck until he let go.

  “He’ll kill us all, Midge,” Philips whined as he pushed himself free.

  Tarb reached for the dagger, but Philips got to him first and jabbed him with a closed fist to the stomach. Tarb went bright red as he doubled over. Philips straightened. Sweat glistened on his forehead. His gaze dropped to the dagger lying on the deck near Grimley’s feet.

  He was not one to mess with in a scrap,
but there was no way she was going to let him get to the dagger. She launched herself at him and clung on with all her strength. She might as well have been a flea. He shrugged her off and, shoving Grimley away, reached for the weapon.

  Staying low, Finn leaped forward and grabbed Philips by the ankle. “Sleep,” he said and wielded.

  Philips crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

  A roaring silence filled in the room. Witnesses to Finn’s power, his posse trembled. The wielders had paled, the sailors gaped, and Tarb dropped his hand to his swordbreaker. Murder lit his eyes.

  Jasmine had to act and hoped her magic didn’t fail her this time.

  “Go back to your ships,” she said. A command. Power surged from her like a sea swell.

  They turned to each other. Grimley’s hands fell from his bloody nose and balled into fists. Without a word, they shuffled from the room. Not ready to leave Finn on his own, she used her magic to watch them go. They went topside and, without a word to Durne, boarded their ships.

  The spell wouldn’t last long. She couldn’t change a person’s memory or convince them they didn’t want Finn. They would return. Angrier next time. The power she’d used had been the same power used by the collars in town. The need to obey was absolute, but because the sailors didn’t wear a collar, the command she’d given them was temporary. She could already feel it wearing off.

  “What did you do?” Finn asked as he stared at the empty doorway where the men had gone.

  She’d done the very thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t — she’d forced a person to do something they didn’t want to do. And not just one person, but six.

  Durne gave the Order to untie the lines and break free of the ships. The moment the Prize was free, Jasmine wielded wind into her sails and a strong current against her hull.

  “What did you do?” Finn asked again, his voice quivering. He’d never seen her control someone before. It was a new magic. Something she’d learned. Maybe she could convince him she’d known how to do that all along.

  More lies.

  “Jasmine, why are you still wielding?”

  The ship jolted forward in the water, and they both stumbled. Shouts rang from above. Her power over the visiting men snapped. They were free of her command. She saw their anger in her mind’s eye. It was a red glow burning on both ships. They would not give up. More than ever, they wanted Finn. And the Prize was still too close.

  Finn caught her shoulders and turned her toward him. “What are you doing?”

  Jasmine pulled away. He was too much of a distraction. She needed to concentrate. “Please trust me.”

  She gathered her power, more than she’d used in a long time. It whistled through her ship, sliced through every sea-soaked timber, seared through every line and canvas. Then she released it into the surrounding waters.

  Power exploded into a nova of sizzling energy, pushing translucent waves outward from the Prize. The waves and the power slammed hard against the Ambrosia and Sirocco, tipping the ships at dangerous angles. Cries rose up from all three ships. Jasmine pushed more power into the wind and currents, and the Prize surged through the waters at an unnatural speed.

  Power blew through Jasmine. It shone like a diamond. It cut like a blade. It was exquisite. It owned her. It was her. She was the power. They were one, and they were terrifying and mighty.

  The Beast stirred.

  Gley burst into the room with Brusan close behind. Jasmine could feel them. A dangerous man and a dangerous woman. Their presence shimmered like shadows behind a waterfall.

  “What are you doing?” Gley demanded.

  Why did everyone ask her that? Wasn’t it obvious? She was saving Finn and saving the Prize.

  “Jasmine,” Gley said as she grabbed hold.

  A golden vision slammed hard against Jasmine. A vast city at sunset. The vision grew so bright she couldn’t look at it. She tried closing her eyes but still it shone. A new vision swirled over the first. White, white fields blanketed in ice and snow. Black needles jutted from the land. Storm clouds loomed low. The wind howled.

  Cold rolled over Jasmine. She pushed away from Gley, and the vision snapped. She’d stopped wielding and her ship sailed at a normal speed. She recalled the rush of power and how it had made her feel. Even as it terrified her, she ached for that sensation again.

  A shadow of a sneer marred Finn’s boyish features. His open expression had vanished.

  “Finn,” she said and reached for him.

  When he flinched from her touch, Jasmine’s heart broke.

  Chapter 20

  Unable to bear the fear in Finn’s eyes, Jasmine pushed past Gley and Brusan, heading for the door.

  Durne stepped in her way. He wore a wide smile. It might’ve been the first time she’d seen his teeth.

  “Mighty fine work you did, crewmate,” he said. “Damned fine job.”

  At any other time, Jasmine might’ve relished the captain calling her a crewmate, but she wasn’t comfortable with the praise. Not in front of Finn. Not when Finn feared her because of what she’d done to earn that praise.

  “That was all you, yes?” Durne asked. “Finn didn’t help? Or Marcelo?”

  “It was nothing.” Jasmine shuddered, because it had been nothing. The power she wielded had been a small portion of her ability. There was a reason Finn was afraid. No one should have that much power.

  “I wasn’t aware wielders could do so much,” Durne said, still grinning. “Is it because of your father?”

  Jasmine shot him a startled look. Durne knew her father was Kahld, as did what was left of the original crew of the Prize. No one had spoken about it because Kahld hadn’t wanted it known. When Durne took over as captain, no one had spoken of her heritage because, Jasmine had assumed, none of that had mattered. As long as a sailor did his job and kept his nose out of trouble, his past stayed in the past.

  Without skipping a beat, Durne said, “Because Brusan is a strong man, perhaps he passed on his strength?” He tapped his temple. “Mental strength, of course.”

  Jasmine risked a glance over her shoulder. Brusan stood straighter than usual, and she thought she saw hope in his eyes.

  A sailor’s past should stay in the past.

  “Aye,” she said over a buzzing roar in her ears. “Brusan did teach me to be strong.” While true, she still resented him and all the things he did to her. But he had shaped her. And he had protected her.

  “Wielding doesn’t work that way,” Finn said, his voice flat.

  “I would very much like to learn more about the way of wielders,” Durne said to Jasmine, his unspoken words promising he would grill her with questions as soon as the opportunity arose.

  Captain Durne turned his gaze on Gley. She gave him a closed-lip smile.

  “I take it you weren’t behind the first attack on Finn, then.”

  “Would it matter what I said?” Gley asked, as confident as a cat on a high perch.

  Jasmine stirred. “I can vouch for her. I think. At least as far as Finn’s attack.”

  Durne nodded. “Then give me a reason not to throw you overboard for stowing away on my ship.”

  Gley’s smile opened. “Because you’re not that kind of captain.”

  Durne’s brows knotted together. “Are you sure about that?”

  By the way the man glowered, Jasmine wasn’t so sure.

  “As sure as the ocean is wet.” She leaned against the narrow desk and picked at her thumbnail. “You also need me.”

  “Is that so?” His dark expression went a shade darker.

  “Those ships are still in pursuit.”

  “The Prize can outrun them.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Throwing the captain’s words back at him was never a wise move. Durne gave nothing away, though. Apart from his black eyes glittering in the low light, he could’ve been carved from stone.

  “This ship has four wielders aboard,” he said.
“Any one of them could push the wind into the sails if needed.”

  Finn shook his head but said nothing.

  “What is spent must be replenished,” Gley said. “So, young Jasmine here is out for a while.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. Not wanting to make her situation with Finn worse, Jasmine kept her mouth shut. Let them think she needed replenishing time.

  “The rest of us don’t have the same strength of power,” Gley went on. “While Finn can manipulate the wind, he can only do it briefly, and it won’t have the same effect you just witnessed. Marcelo doesn’t have the same ability and neither do I.”

  A lie. It seemed Gley could manipulate the winds. Jasmine wondered what else she could do. A grim desire to pluck the truth from the girl came over her. Black like the pall of the Beast’s vision, that desire tasted of bitterness and need.

  Jasmine blinked and looked away. This would be her curse, it seemed. To forever want more and forever be denied. She could never give in, never let it take over. Or she surely would become like Kahld.

  She took a deep, calming breath. For now, Gley could have her secrets.

  A groan issued from the corner. Finn sucked in his breath and stepped away from Philips as the man stirred.

  “Why the devil is Philips on the floor?” Durne asked.

  When no one answered, Jasmine sighed. “He tried to attack Finn.” It wasn’t a physical weariness she felt, or the kind caused by wielding too far from her talisman. It was simply the weariness spawned by trouble. She had at last found her place on her ship and discovered a beautiful connection with Finn, yet life, fate, everything, seemed determined to pull them apart.

  Durne’s meaty hands balled into fists.

  Philips sat up. He rubbed his head, making his already disheveled hair look like a rat’s nest. In a daze, he cast his bleary eyes over everyone looking down on him. When he spotted Finn, he grimaced. “Me attacking Finn wasn’t no dream, then?”

  Brusan helped him to his feet. The sailor swayed and sank down to his cot.

  “Seems not,” Brusan said.

  Philips groaned. “There ain’t enough apologies for what I did.”