Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  “Master Tzoyet is not altogether incorrect in his statements,” the Eldani said. “There are other powerful beings in this world. Whether you call them ‘gods’ or not, they exist. Ignoring them is perilous.”

  “But do you think one of them is responsible for this… this devastation?” Alpin wanted to know.

  “I do not.” Curasir bowed his head for a moment. The room grew quiet. He lifted his face and spoke again. “As you all well know, the Eldanim were strongly opposed to this body’s actions in the past. By binding most of this land’s magic into specific human bloodlines, you endangered all that is. In time, you acknowledged this error and attempted to mollify it with the ceremony you call the Passing. It was never a permanent solution.”

  “You told me you were here to offer help and advice, not condemnation,” Hain said, his face a stone.

  “Indeed. While the Passing may accomplish its purposes normally, you have been missing a key portion of the power since you lost your King. This is hardly news to any of you, but indulge me for a moment.

  “The power to rule was broken into seven portions. However, the portion given to the King was equal to at least three of the Lords. What that means for our world is that when you conduct your yearly Passing now, you are not just missing a small part: you are missing a full third of the power, the power necessary for maintaining this world’s very structure. Is it any wonder that it has begun to react?”

  “What would you have us do, then?” Korda asked. “We do not possess the skill of the ancient Conclave. We can not restore what has been taken, even if the Lords were to agree to it.”

  “Your only hope - indeed, this land’s only hope - is to find your high King,” Curasir said. “Until his power is included in the Passing, the trouble we experienced yesterday will only increase.”

  Something seemed off. Seri leaned forward and stared at the back of Curasir’s head. Why wasn’t he even mentioning the Otherworld? He knew it was bleeding through the cracks. He had surely seen it far more than she had.

  “Do you think we haven’t tried?” Alpin said bitterly. “Everyone searches for the King’s descendants. Any of the Lords would seize at the opportunity to be the one who restores a King to Antises!”

  “Perhaps there are… other ways,” Curasir said. “I will discuss them with you at a later time. For now, I would make one other suggestion: you should move up the time of the Passing.”

  “Impossible!” Tzoyet exclaimed. “The necessary preparations, the travel arrangements for all six Lords and their retainers: it would be a logistical nightmare to change all of that!”

  “What would you rather have?” Curasir asked. “A logistical nightmare? Or a supernatural one?”

  A long silence followed.

  “Your words have wisdom,” Hain said at last. “But what you ask is difficult to achieve. We could, perhaps, move the Passing two weeks sooner? That would still give us six weeks to prepare.”

  Tzoyet and Plecu grumbled under their breaths, but said nothing in opposition. Hain looked at each of the other Masters in turn. No one responded.

  “Very well. We shall accelerate our schedules and send messages to each of the Lords. Given the nature of the crisis, I hope that they will not delay in their responses.” He banged the staff against the floor. “This gathering is dismissed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ENIRI HASTENED MARSHAL back out into the hallway. She went back in and tried to calm Lady Siratel for a few minutes, kneeling beside her chair. Marshal waited in the hall. If the old woman had seen stars falling in his future, what did it mean? She was so upset, as if she blamed him for the falling stars. It made no sense.

  Besides, stars fell all the time. Marshal had seen them on many clear nights in the mountains. What could be horrible about… oh. Maybe it wasn’t the stars he saw every night. Maybe she was talking about the stars in that other place, where he had woken up. If those stars fell… that would truly be a great loss. The simple absence of them right now created a pull inside him. If only he could get back there somehow.

  Eniri re-emerged. “I think the lady will be all right,” she said. “I’ve never seen her that agitated.” She looked at Marshal with a raised eyebrow.

  How was he supposed to react to that?

  Eniri blinked and looked away. “I am not used to being around someone who I couldn’t read,” she said. “You are a very confusing young man.”

  Not much he could do about that.

  “Come this way. Your mother is waiting in the lobby.”

  Eniri led him to the end of the hall and turned the corner to the right. This hall only traveled a few feet before again turning left. After passing three more doors, it opened up into a large room lined with windows. A couple dozen chairs and benches filled the room. Aelia and Victor waited on one of the benches.

  On seeing her son, Aelia leaped to her feet and rushed across the room to meet him. Eniri stepped to the side and waited while Aelia embraced, kissed, and fussed over Marshal. It was only moderately embarrassing. Victor stood nearby, looking awkward.

  Someone was missing. Marshal looked around the room.

  “Talinir is all right,” Aelia said, recognizing his question. “He is reporting to his masters.”

  Victor approached. “So… you’re all right now?” he asked.

  Marshal pulled his tunic open to reveal smooth skin. Aelia touched his chest and put her hand to her mouth.

  Victor stared. “That’s… not possible. You were almost dead!” He looked at Eniri. “What did you do to him?”

  Eniri cocked her head. “Our healing methods are radically effective,” she answered. “Thanks to the light of the stars, the Eldanim rarely suffer for very long.”

  “Huh.” Victor snorted. “When I lay out under the stars, all I get is cold.”

  “Not quite the same thing,” Eniri said.

  Marshal moved past the others and stared out the window. He looked out onto a street paved with white stone, lined by buildings of stone and polished wood. It was nothing like Drusa’s Crossing or Efesun. Unlike the towns he knew, these buildings seemed designed more for their appearance than their functionality. He could see no discernible purpose for many of the curves, turrets, railings, and other design elements. Some of those balconies couldn’t even be accessed, from what he could see.

  “Isn’t it insane?” Victor asked from behind him. “Did you ever dream we’d end up in an Eldanim city?”

  “It has been many years since any human set foot in Intal Eldanir,” Eniri said. “You are all greatly honored.”

  Marshal continued to stare until Aelia put her hand on his shoulder. “Come, we’ll show you where we’re staying.” She looked to Eniri. “Unless there is further need for us to stay here?”

  Eniri shook her head. “Marshal should be fine,” she said. “He may feel some fatigue shortly. Otherwise, I do not think there will be lasting effects.”

  Marshal glanced at her, wondering why she didn’t mention Lady Siratel’s vision. Eniri smiled at him in response. Perplexing.

  “Yeah, wait’ll you see our rooms!” Victor said.

  Aelia led the way out into the street. Marshal followed, but paused at the door and looked back. He smiled at Eniri. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. He wished she had been able to read his thoughts. That would have been… interesting.

  Outside, he noted the cloudy sky, much as it had been yesterday when they fought the assassin. Was it yesterday? He had no idea how much time had passed.

  As they walked down the street, several Eldanim passed by, walking alone or in couples. All of them inclined their heads in respect toward Aelia and mostly ignored the boys. In every case, Marshal found himself straining to focus. Like Talinir and Eniri, they all appeared taller than their actual height. Even when he walked past a young woman clearly shorter than he, it still seemed wrong. He could look down on the top of her head, but she still seemed taller.

  They all appeared similar with the sharp angles
and starry right eyes, but each possessed distinctions of their own. Skin tone and hair color varied widely throughout, including some he had never seen before. They wore clothing mostly similar to what he was used to - tunics and pants - but equally as varied, and always decorative in ways he had never considered. They appeared to favor dark colors, setting a stark contrast to the white stone of the street. Some wore strange strips of colored cloth wrapped around their necks and hanging down either in the front or back. He could see no discernible purpose for the strips, except to keep the neck warm, which hardly seemed necessary. Two younger Eldanim walked by wearing patches over their right eyes. Marshal tried not to stare.

  No one mocked him. No one stared at his scars. No one called him “Curse Boy.”

  After walking a couple of blocks, Aelia opened the door at a two-story building that resembled an inn. That is, it resembled an inn far more decorative, clean, and impressive than any Marshal had seen. The interior, however, resembled more of a manor house than an inn. No one greeted them at the door. Aelia led them upstairs to a set of rooms that had been set aside for the three humans.

  “Look over here!” Victor moved around the rooms, pointing out everything. At first, Marshal found himself fascinated by the enormous fireplace, the soft beds in the two sleeping rooms, and the striking beauty of the furniture. But as the tour advanced, he realized Victor’s attitude fascinated him even more.

  He watched his guide out of the corner of his eye. Victor seemed to be genuinely excited to be sharing these things with someone. If he didn’t know better, Marshal would have thought Victor enjoyed his company. Anyone else watching might have thought they were friends.

  That couldn’t be true, of course. Victor was only relieved Marshal hadn’t died, thus ruining his chance to escape their Bond. Everyone knew that once Bonded, if the one you were supposed to protect died before you could save them, your own life was ruined.

  Victor didn’t actually like him. He had made that clear many times. Even as he reminded himself of this, Marshal felt an ache inside. What would it be like to have a real friend? For some reason, his thoughts danced to the stars he had seen in that other place, and the ache of loss grew.

  “Are you hungry?” Aelia’s question broke into his thoughts.

  Marshal shook his head. He gestured, not knowing how to communicate what he wanted to know.

  “You want to know what happened? How we got here?”

  Nod is yes.

  “Hope you don’t mind if I eat while she talks,” Victor said. He strode across the room to a solid wood table that held a variety of fruits. After looking them over, he took what looked like a green apple and took a large bite.

  “Talinir saved you,” Aelia said. “When you were stabbed, he woke up. I don’t know why or how. He should have been out much longer. Instead, he just… jumped up, took his sword from me, and ran it through the assassin’s belly.”

  “He’s amazing,” Victor said around a mouthful. “I want to learn how to do what he does.”

  “Talinir picked you up and then–”

  “He just screamed at the sky!” Victor broke in, waving his apple. “Like it was some Eldanim password or something, and then! This entire city! Just appeared out of nowhere! And it was floating!”

  “Which one of us is telling this story?” Aelia asked, smiling.

  “You can finish,” Victor said.

  “There’s not much else to tell,” Aelia said. “Talinir rushed into the city with you, and we followed. He took you to the healers, and we were forced to leave you there. The Eldanim gave us these rooms and left us alone so far. This morning, they summoned us to meet you. That’s all there is, really.”

  Marshal’s eyes glanced out the window at the street. Was it also floating above the Great Plains? How was that possible? For that matter, how could an entire city appear out of nowhere?

  He sat on the windowsill and looked out without seeing any more. The Eldanim could make a city float and vanish. They could heal someone at the very point of death. They could fight invisible monsters. If they could do all that, was it not reasonable to think they might be able to lift his curse?

  Until now, he had pushed such hopes down. They weren’t even worth considering. But after all that had happened in the past couple of days, could he accept the possibility? Should he? Dare he?

  His face twisted in concern and he looked up at Aelia. She had always been good at reading his moods and this was no exception. She laid her hand on his shoulder.

  “Talinir believes the High Council will reject my request,” she said softly. “I do not know if he is right. Regardless, I will make my plea directly to them when they agree to hear it.”

  She bent down and looked him in the eyes. “Either they will lift your curse, or we will find another way,” she said. “I have put this off too long, and I am sorry for that.” She wrapped her arms around him.

  “You are loved. You are valuable. You have a purpose in this world.” Somehow, her whispered words, though he had heard them countless times before, contained the comfort he needed for now. He relaxed and returned her hug. Nothing else mattered, for now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  TALINIR CAME TO see them in the early afternoon. When he entered the room, he greeted Aelia, then went straight to Marshal. The warden knelt in front of him.

  “I made a promise that no harm would come to you or your mother,” he said. “I failed to keep that promise. I am sorry that I did not anticipate the assassin’s attack so soon after my fight with the tunaldi.”

  Marshal felt awkward. He didn’t blame Talinir, and didn’t know how to respond.

  “How did you manage to wake up right when he needed you?” Victor asked.

  Talinir looked at him, but remained kneeling. “When Marshal was stabbed, my promise was broken. That is what woke me.”

  “A broken promise woke you up?”

  “Among your people, words are not as effectual, I am told,” Talinir said. “Among the Eldanim, a spoken promise is as powerful as the Bond that connects the two of you.”

  “You mean it’s magic?”

  Talinir hesitated. “You would call it that.”

  “Well, it is or it isn’t, right?” Victor cocked his head and wrinkled his brow.

  “I am not sure how to explain that.”

  Talinir turned back to Marshal. “Regardless, I must atone for this. Whenever you do leave Intal Eldanir, I will accompany you and protect you again, as long as you need me.” He placed a hand over his heart and the other on Marshal’s shoulder. “I make this my oath.”

  Victor’s eyebrows went up. “And an oath is stronger than a promise?”

  Talinir looked irritated. “Yes.”

  Victor rolled his eyes. “We’re just one big bundle of Bindings here,” he said. “But at the rate Marshal keeps getting in trouble, I’m thinking we’ll have plenty of opportunities to rescue him.”

  In the past, when Victor made statements like that, they were grumbling, resentful. Now he sounded practically cheerful about it.

  Aelia sat in one of the ornate wooden chairs near the table. She looked thoughtful. “Talinir, there is one thing I would request of you,” she said.

  The warden stood and faced her. “What is it, my lady?”

  “Victor has already expressed an interest in learning from you. I think it would be wise if you were to train both of the boys in the use of the sword. I’ve given Marshal some basic training, but he needs much more.”

  Marshal looked up.

  “Considering what happened with the assassin, I believe you are correct,” Talinir replied. “We will start tomorrow.”

  Aelia visibly relaxed a bit. “Have you conveyed my request to address the High Council?”

  “I have. They will be meeting the day after tomorrow, and will make time for you then. Is there anything else you require today?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Aelia said. “Harunir and Indala are excellent hosts.”

  �
��I am not surprised,” Talinir said. “In that case, I will leave you all to relax and enjoy the rest of your day. I’ll be back for the two of you men tomorrow morning at first light.”

  Before they could even respond, Talinir strode out of the door.

  “Devouring fire! He’s going to teach us!” Victor said. “That’s… that’s…” Unable to think of the right words, he stopped, then seemed to remember something. “Oh, uh, thank you, Aelia.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “You were right. You both need to learn how to defend yourselves better. We don’t need to repeat what happened with the assassin.”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  Marshal wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, learning more swordplay would be a good skill to have. On the other, why should he bother? If his curse was lifted, he would soon have access to real power, magical power. Even if it wasn’t lifted, if he managed to stay hidden here in the Eldanim city, all he had to do was wait until Lord Varion died and he would still inherit the power. What good were swords against that?

  •••••

  In the early evening, the home owners returned. From what Marshal could grasp, the Eldani couple lived on the first floor of the house and reserved the second floor for visitors. That seemed odd. How many visitors could there be to an invisible city?

  When their hosts’ daughter returned soon thereafter, Marshal experienced a pleasant surprise. It was Eniri.

  After some greetings and small talk, all six of them settled down for dinner around a table that could have handled ten or twelve people with room to spare. Marshal surveyed the food apprehensively. He was used to certain tastes and had never been comfortable trying new things. He recognized a few items, but others left him perplexed. He had never seen a more bountiful table.

  Harunir reached out his hands to his wife and daughter. “Please join us,” he said. “We begin each meal this way.”