Wielder's Curse

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by Elle Cardy


  There could be only one answer that explained how he knew about Gley’s plan to go to Yactun. He’d seen a vision. The man was maddening. “It’s time you told me what you know. All of it.”

  “You don’t trust me, so you won’t believe me. It’s why I had to try other ways of keeping you from going to Yactun.”

  Other ways. Like keeping her in the dark when he knew what was happening around them. Like trying to strand her in Oakheart.

  “Then show me, old man. Show me this vision of yours.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “It did before.” At Sapphire Cove, it had taken an accidental touch and she’d been flooded by his visions.

  “When the conduit is opened, you can see my visions, but I can’t control what you see. You could very well see the countless ones where Finn kills you.”

  He was right, of course.

  “The Guardians in Oakheart believe those visions are real,” she said, “but they’re wrong. Killing Finn won’t save the world. The visions are from the Beast.”

  Marcelo sighed as he grimaced. “There is no beast. All I can gather is that there is a powerful force out here. Not some beast. A mad wielder, perhaps? An aberration in the laws of nature? I don’t know.” He shook his head. “As for the Oakheart Guardians, they are a collection of fools afraid of their own shadows and would step in where they have no clue.”

  A black boiling sea roiled in her vision, threatening to engulf her.

  He frowned. “The visions are getting worse, aren’t they? I can see it around you. I don’t understand why I didn’t expect that. You had, after all, learned to see them from me.”

  There was that frightening word out in the open for anyone to hear. Learned. Marcelo had known her secret from the start, yet for some reason it hadn’t bothered him as it did everyone else — even though he was willing to go out of his way to force Finn to silence a different abomination.

  Voices rose from the boatshed. Gley and Brusan were having an argument just inside the door. She couldn’t see Finn. She imagined him huddled in a cloak in the corner. None of them would’ve heard Marcelo.

  “Why haven’t you silenced me?” she asked.

  The old man laughed. It was an oddly jolly laugh that made him seem like the grandfatherly gentleman he was when she’d first met him at Sapphire Cove. Humor shone in his eyes. “Because it’s essential you live,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Why is that? What makes me so important?”

  “Everyone is important.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, of course.” He kicked at a pebble on the shoreline. It skittered into the waters of the bay and disappeared into the depths. “The frustrating thing is, it’s not a clear vision. None of my visions regarding you are clear. They never have been. Same with Gley, for that matter. But the feelings that come from them? They are crystal. You must live. I have no idea why.”

  “So, you sent Aurelius to actively work against me in Oakheart, then tried to have me abandoned there, cutting me off from my ship.”

  “You would’ve lived in Oakheart.”

  “As a slave.”

  “But alive. And if you go to Yactun, you will die.”

  “Show me.”

  “I said I can’t—”

  Jasmine grabbed Marcelo’s wrist. That was all it took to see one of his visions. Cold swept over her like a howling gale. Black craggy spears thrust from snow-blanketed cliffs. A bitter storm rolled in from the west with distant flashes of lightning caught in the darkest depths. In that cold and colorless land was a fire. A river of fire that turned the snow to steam, pouring from a mountain.

  Jasmine stood on the crumbling edge of a cliff, looking down into a fissure that glowed with the red river. Two hands clasped her shoulders from behind. Male hands, soft and without callus, warm and untouched by the cold, with perfect symmetry. Jasmine touched one of those hands, as a lover might.

  “Goodnight, my sweet,” a voice crooned in her ear.

  She should’ve been afraid, but she wasn’t. It was like she was caught in a spell. She couldn’t do anything, not even turn around to see who grasped her. But neither did she want to.

  Then the hands shoved her forward. She lost her footing and fell. She tumbled into the fissure and into the river of fire. Jasmine screamed as her world became molten.

  “What did you do, old man?” cried a booming voice.

  “I did nothing,” came a reply, sounding for all the world weary and spent.

  Someone held her hand. A soft touch. Without calluses. The touch dulled the vision and soothed the pain. Jasmine blinked and straightened.

  “What happened?” It was Finn. He stood beside her, with Brusan crowding in next to him.

  “I…” she rubbed her aching head. “I… Marcelo showed me one of his visions.” Not the complete truth but Finn couldn’t know she could choose to see them also, along with a long list of other things she could do with her powers she had no right knowing if she were a regular wielder.

  Finn sent a glare Marcelo’s way.

  “It’s not a perfect art,” the old man muttered. He glanced at Jasmine, either unable or not bothering to hide the hunger in his eyes. “What did you see?”

  “I saw that maybe you are right.” It might’ve been a false vision. She glanced down at Finn’s smooth hands. They were fine-boned and delicate, not rough like a sailor’s.

  “Progress,” Marcelo murmured with a tight smile.

  What if she was only meant to live long enough to save the ones she loved?

  She turned her back on the old man.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Everyone wanted something from her, yet she didn’t know what she wanted for herself. She didn’t want to lose Finn. To lose him would be more devastating than she could contemplate. That made her realize how much she loved him.

  She laced her fingers in his and led him behind the boatshed.

  “We don’t have time for this!” Gley called from inside.

  In that quiet, cold space that smelled of salt and seaweed, Jasmine brushed a lock of Finn’s brown hair from his face. “I need you to know…” What she needed to tell him sounded stupid in her head. Three simple words. That was all she needed to utter. She used to think they didn’t need saying, but she’d been wrong. She needed to admit it aloud as much as she needed Finn to hear it.

  “Finn,” she started. Why had her mouth gone so dry? “Finn, I love you.”

  A slow smile crept over his face. “I’ve known all along, but it’s good to hear.”

  Unable to keep eye contact, she studied his feet. Mud covered his boots. As she chewed on her inner lip, she wondered if he’d clean them at the first opportunity.

  He lifted her chin and, as he leaned in close, he searched her eyes. “And I love you.”

  A broad smile broke past her defenses. Warmth flushed her being. Yes, it was good to hear it said aloud. As they held each other tight, she breathed in his musk and reveled in his touch. When they pulled away, her heart pounded at a rapid beat.

  “We’ll get through this,” she said with conviction even though she had no idea how. She’d make sure they would. “You just need to trust me.”

  Finn nodded, the trust in him clear to read, and she loved him more for it.

  “There’s something I need to do first,” she said.

  When they returned to the boatshed, she gave Finn into Brusan’s care.

  She took the time to look Brusan in the eye. “I appreciate it. All of it.”

  She’d had enough awkwardness for one morning. Before he could come up with a response, she dashed away, hiding herself as she ran.

  Chapter 33

  The brass serpent knocker didn’t seem as intimidating as it once had. She knocked and waited for a response. When a muffled invitation to enter came from inside, she slipped in and closed the door behind her.

  Durne had drag
ged his chair from his desk and sat in a watery patch of sunlight spilling in from the windows. The best spot in the room where a person could see the outside and feel what little warmth the sun had to offer in this cold land.

  “Jasmine,” Durne greeted without emotion. No questions as to why she was there. She tried to see him as the locals saw him — a whale carcass without a soul. She couldn’t see it. While she could see magic on people, she could only see it on folk who could wield. She’d never thought that magic could be everywhere, in everyone. Except Durne, it seemed.

  “There are a few things I need to explain,” Jasmine said.

  Durne grunted. “About time. Pull up a chair and let’s converse. While you’re at it, pour me a nip of rum. I’ve a feeling I might need it. Pour yourself one too.”

  Jasmine pulled up a chair by the large windows. She collected two crystal-cut glasses and poured two nips of rum from a crystal carafe that had once belonged to Kahld. She offered Durne one, they clinked glasses and drank to the sea. Jasmine settled into her chair and cradled her glass. The milky sun gave off almost no heat yet it still felt good against her skin.

  After a while of companionable silence, Jasmine stirred. “What I need to tell you might seem strange, but it is the truth as I know it.”

  Durne eyed her but said nothing. He took another sip of his rum.

  Jasmine launched into her story. The full story of how she became a wielder, what it meant to be an abomination. She told him about the Guardians and their hunt for rogue wielders, which it turned out Finn had already told him. She went on to explain about the Beast, about Marcelo’s visions and her own. She even explained why the locals reacted to him the way they did. She left nothing out. When she was done, she sat there in the light of a cold watery sun and waited.

  “Why are you telling me all this now?” Durne asked.

  “Because there has been too many secrets, and I can’t carry them all alone. Because you told me a long time ago that I needed to put my trust somewhere, so I decided to put it here, with you.”

  The faintest of nods was all he offered. She would’ve liked a little more than that. This wasn’t easy. Feeling exposed and vulnerable wasn’t fun.

  “And what do you hope to gain from this?”

  It wasn’t a question she had considered. What did she hope to gain? To not be alone in this anymore? To get someone else to deal with it instead? No, none of that.

  “I need … help.”

  Durne nodded again. He looked into his glass and found it empty. His chair creaked as he rose. He wandered over to his desk. He refilled his glass and lifted the carafe at her. She shook her head, so he returned it to the table. When he settled in his seat again, he studied her. That knowing gaze of his made her uneasy.

  “You’ve come a long way, Jasmine.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She thought he meant it as a compliment, but they were so rare, she couldn’t be certain.

  “You have so much potential.”

  She waited for the “but.”

  “My first piece of considered advice is this: You can trust Brusan. He would give his life for you. His past, like yours, has no bearing on what you both could have now.”

  Brusan hadn’t been a part of the story she’d shared with Durne, but he was a large part of her story nonetheless. “I think I’m coming to realize that,” she said.

  “Good. Good. I’ll drink to that.”

  They clinked glasses and drank.

  “My second piece of advice is this: Always remember you are your father’s daughter.”

  This was not what she wanted to hear. She considered fleeing from the room, her hands covering her ears. A foolish response, but an honest one. Instead, she clutched her glass tighter and willed herself to keep eye contact with Durne. She needed to hear what he had to say. She would consider it later and decide whether or not to dismiss it. If she could at first understand what he was saying.

  “Are you hearing me, Jasmine? Because if you hear nothing else, hear this. You are your father’s daughter. You do take after Kahld. You have his power. You have his strength, and you have the potential to lose everything as he did. You walk his same path.”

  She realized what it was she’d been after. She wanted support. She needed hope. If just one person believed in her, the real her, then maybe she’d find the courage to do what needed to be done.

  “Never deny it,” Durne went on. “Never forget it. That knowledge will make you stronger than Kahld because unlike him, you know where that path leads.”

  “So you’re saying…” She wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

  “What you consider a curse, doesn’t have to be. While you accept who you are, you will always have a choice no matter where you find yourself.”

  “I don’t have to make the same choices Kahld did.”

  With a slight bow, Durne raised his glass and took a sip.

  She could rise above it and be her own person, making her own choices. When it seemed her fall would be inevitable as time drew on and she lost control over her power, now she had hope. Real hope. Not something temporary that could crumble at any moment. Not something—

  “And now for my command,” Durne said, breaking her chain of thought. “You are no longer welcome on the Prize.”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. Replaying his words in her mind, she realized, no, she had heard him. The man was being cruel beyond words. He’d given her hope only to strip it away in the worst possible way.

  “As captain of this ship, my first order of business is to keep my ship and my crew safe,” he said. “You have brought danger to our waters.” He raised a hand and stopped her from protesting. “None of it was your fault. You didn’t choose your parents. You didn’t mean to catch the attention of this beast entity. You had no power over the visions Marcelo saw. Nonetheless the danger remains. My first order of business, my first priority as captain, is to remove that danger from my ship and crew.”

  She bit down on her inner lip. Her eyes pricked with unshed tears. “You know I can’t survive without the Prize. It’s my talisman.”

  “You told me you have additional talismans, items you’ve taken from the Prize. You left the ship before, and you can and will do it again. My crew and I will be sailing on to Auslam in the morn. We’ve done well with trade here and stocked up for the journey. We may one day return to these shores, but not until this wielder business is dealt with and that wretched new star disappears. My crew need an extended break in a warm clime, and that I will give them. If you choose to return to us, then do so. You will always have a place on my crew as long as you don’t endanger us. Do you understand?”

  A single gull swooped on the air currents. It dove, disappearing under the surface of the waves. When it broke through again, it carried a fish in its beak.

  “Do you understand, Jasmine?”

  “Aye, I understand.” She couldn’t look at him. She’d turned to him for help, and he had kicked her off her beloved ship. This wasn’t supposed to happen. What was she supposed to do now? How could she get to Yactun? How was she supposed to return to the Prize if Durne was willing to abandon her on some island in the middle of nowhere? And what about her mentorship with Cagg?

  “If you were captain,” Durne asked, “would you do any different?”

  Of course she’d do something different. She’d… She didn’t know what she’d do, but it would be different. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t captain.

  Durne rose and opened a drawer in his desk. From it he pulled a small pouch and dropped it into her hand. “Payment for your service over the years,” he said. “You will be missed, but I also know this is the right thing to do.”

  “For you, maybe,” she muttered.

  “And for you,” Durne said, apparently unmoved by her brimming tears. “I know you will make the right decision. Not the one that suits you, but the one that will suit those around you. The one that leads to the
greater good.”

  Where once she felt grief, she now felt anger. She rose and placed her unfinished glass of rum on the chair. “Thank you for your time,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. She had nothing else to say to the man, so she left.

  Without watching her go, Durne remained seated in the patch of weak sunlight and drank his rum. That, she was certain, would be her last memory of him.

  She wiped her eyes and made sure there was no sign of tears. Risking her magic again, she hid herself and touched the smooth wood of her ship’s railing for maybe the last time. She glanced up at the rigging, and an ache inside her burned a hole in her heart.

  Maybe Durne was right. Maybe she could do this. It wasn’t only about her. She needed to be strong for all of them.

  Jasmine let go the railing and walked down the gangway. She didn’t look back.

  Chapter 34

  When she got to the boatshed, Marcelo paced outside. Gley and Brusan’s raised voices from inside shattered the morning calm.

  “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Marcelo said, hands buried in his sleeves.

  “What are they still arguing about?”

  He shook his head. “The girl wants to steal a boat, and Brusan is against it.”

  It seemed Gley had never intended to take the Prize to Yactun. Of course, she didn’t know the Prize was Jasmine’s talisman, her lifeline. For Gley, it was nothing to cut ties with the ship and continue on in some other random boat.

  Jasmine held Marcelo’s stare. “I’m guessing you’ll be returning to the Prize? Durne’s leaving for Auslam tomorrow morning.”

  Marcelo’s eyes flashed, and he almost bounced on his toes. “What about you?”

  She knew the real question he was asking: Are you going to Yactun?

  “I plan to live,” was the only answer she gave him.

  He studied her then nodded. He turned, hesitated, and turned back. “No matter how close you get to Finn, never tell him your true heritage.”

 

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