Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  The humans joined hands with each other and the Eldanim. Marshal had only a brief moment of panic between the realization and the action of holding hands with Eniri. He had never held a girl’s hand before, even for something this simple. He hoped his hand didn’t start shaking.

  All three Eldanim looked up. Marshal glanced to either side and did likewise. For the first time, he noticed the ceiling had an engraved pattern that looked much like a star field. It wasn’t black, and the stars were difficult to make out, but there was no mistaking the design.

  “We who wait for the ransoming of all worlds, we thank you for your provision.” Harunir’s declaration sounded heartfelt.

  Were they talking to the stars? Or Theon? Marshal quickly forgot his temporary curiosity when he realized everyone had lowered their heads, and he still held Eniri’s hand. She smiled and gently pulled loose.

  Platters and bowls began moving around the table, and Marshal felt pressured to put many things on his plate. He took small portions of a number of different fruits, only some of which he could identify. Corn was literally the only vegetable he recognized, but he was surprised to discover it tasted sweet, unlike the generally tasteless stuff he knew from back home. He liked the sliced ham, but not the thick gravy that had been poured on it.

  Eniri made a few comments as the meal progressed, pointing out things for him. He tried to respond in the only ways he could, but felt inadequate. Even as he tried a few of the unfamiliar foods, he found himself wondering what it would be like to spend more time alone with the Eldani girl.

  “These are fantastic!” Victor said loudly. He held up a breaded piece of meat Marshal didn’t recognize. “Is this chicken?”

  Indala smiled. “Yes, breaded and fried in vegetable oil. You like it?”

  “I could eat these every day! Why aren’t there any bones?”

  Beside him, Eniri laughed. Marshal frowned. Victor’s enthusiasm could always make girls smile. Marshal couldn’t even express whether he liked the fried chicken pieces. Girls would always be attracted to Victor, not him. Who could blame them? Victor was far more handsome, with his blonde hair, scruffy beard and thick muscles. What girl would ever prefer Marshal? Even if by some miracle the Eldanim removed his curse, his face would still be horribly scarred. His life felt more pointless than ever.

  His appetite vanished. Indala was trying to explain the process she used to prepare the chicken. Ignoring her, he got to his feet and left the table.

  Aelia stood and took a step after him. “Are you all right?”

  Nod is yes. Marshal left the room.

  When Victor returned to their bedroom a short time later, Marshal sat alone, staring out the window.

  “Theon’s pillars! I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life!” Victor collapsed onto the bed and rubbed his stomach. “Whatever else the Eldanim may be, they know how to cook!”

  Marshal rolled his eyes, though he knew Victor wasn’t watching him.

  “I just can’t get used to their appearance,” Victor went on. “No matter how much I try, there’s something strange about them.”

  He sat up. “I mean, their women are beautiful, right? At least the ones we’ve seen. Like that Eniri downstairs - incredibly beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Marshal turned to look at him, but found Victor staring at the ceiling.

  “But she’s still so… strange. I can’t imagine myself being with one of them, you know? I mean, it’s like she’s beautiful, but not attractive, if that makes any sense?”

  Marshal cocked his head. This was interesting talk coming from Victor.

  “I wonder if they see us the same way? Maybe Eniri is down there with her mother right now saying something like, ‘Those human boys look nice, but they’re so strange looking! So much hair and everything is curved!’” Victor affected an attempt at a high-pitched voice, which made Marshal smile.

  Victor jumped back up. “Ha! Usually it’s me that’s talking about a girl’s curves!” He joined Marshal at the window and looked out toward the setting sun.

  A long moment of silence followed.

  Victor slapped Marshal on the back. “Well, we get to start training tomorrow! Best get some sleep!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  KISHIN KNELT ALONE amid the long grass, face down and eyes closed. Never before had a target escaped him at the point of death itself. By all rights, Marshal should be dead. The healing powers of the Eldanim created an unfair advantage.

  No, not unfair. Simply challenging. Yet another challenge in this most unusual pursuit.

  Kishin scratched more skin off his arm. As pleasurable as a challenge might be, this one had turned a corner. Even he could not defy the full protection of the Eldanim.

  For twenty years, Kishin had been in the business of killing. Lords and nobles from four of the six realms had hired him to do the one job they could not perform themselves. He had killed and killed and killed again. His targets had ranged from common peasants to children of the Lords themselves. In all that time, he had never failed in an assignment.

  And he would not fail now.

  After his first murder, the curse had struck him. The despair had followed, driving him nearly to the point of ending his own life. And then it occurred to him. How much worse could it be? Inspired to find out, he sought out a neighbor who had mocked him as a child. Slitting his throat had been extremely satisfying. And no further curse had followed. In that moment, he knew he was free, free to do whatever he liked, because no curse could be greater than the one he already bore.

  Killing did not become his obsession. Curses did. In time, he realized everyone was cursed, whether they admitted it or not. Convincing them to admit it started as a game, but soon became his primary goal. The killings were secondary. They must be made to see. His curse, though horrible, was no different from everyone else.

  Once others understood and embraced their curses, they could be free, too.

  Marshal’s curse troubled him. Muteness was unusual, but not unheard of. But it seemed like something someone might earn for small violations of the Law. Somehow, Kishin suspected that Lord Varioch had committed a more serious crime. In which case, he was missing something. Something significant. Why wasn’t the curse more substantial?

  The more he pondered it, the more troubled he grew. The mental exercise provided a welcome respite from his current pain.

  He opened his eyes.

  The sword still waited. His own starshine should have done enough by now, though. Enough to let him survive what needed to be done next.

  He took the sword’s grip in both hands, hesitated, then pulled swiftly. It slid out of his stomach in a smooth motion. Blood spurted for only a few seconds before the wound sealed.

  He gasped and closed his eyes again, waiting for the pain to subside. It did not take long. He opened his eyes and lifted his head. He was fortunate that the others had been so focused on saving Marshal, rather than finishing him off.

  Even if he never saw his target again, he had already profited from this assignment in a greater way than he could have imagined. An Eldani warpsteel blade. He wiped his own blood in the grass and lifted the sword into the light. This was worth more than everything he owned, and they had left it behind for him. In seeking to save Marshal, they had made him more deadly than he had ever been.

  He lifted his face higher and glared at the gleaming city that floated in the air before him. Marshal would emerge again, one day. And when he did, it no longer mattered who protected him.

  He would die.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “THE MAGIC OF Antises is all about vibration,” Master Hain announced.

  Seri looked around the room they entered. She had never been in this part of the citadel. The room looked somewhat like a smaller version of the dining room, with numerous tables arranged in order. Someone had arranged a multitude of various small items on top of the tables.

  “Vibration is everywhere in the universe,” Master
Hain said. “It is one of the fundamental forces of all creation.”

  Seri cocked her head. “I’ve never heard that before. In the university, they taught us about fundamental forces. There were three of–”

  “We do not share our insights with the universities,” he interrupted. “But you must accept what I am telling you, or nothing else will make any sense.”

  “Sorry, Master.”

  “Very well. Now, vibration itself may or may not be classified as magic. After all, anyone can cause vibrations of some kinds - pounding a drum, ripples in the water, and so on. But considering how magic itself is so intricately tied into vibration, we might almost consider those to be examples of what you might call ordinary magic. That is, magic that can be performed by anyone at any time.”

  Seri tried not to frown. It seemed a strange way of beginning her training. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Master Hain’s description. She kept her mother’s admonishment in her head and kept her mouth shut.

  “Though we cannot perceive it with our ordinary senses, everything vibrates,” Master Hain went on. “Our bodies, this table, the citadel itself. Everything vibrates at its own speed, in its own way. The great Masters of the ancient age were said to be powerful enough to sense those vibrations. Sensing led to understand. And understanding led to… control.

  “No one has that kind of power today. The Lords, of course, possess immense power, but most of them don’t seek its mastery. And here, at Zes Sivas, enough magic remains that we can sense it, understand it, and control it for our own purposes.”

  “So you vibrated that stone apart to save Dravid!” Seri exclaimed. She gritted her teeth at the stupidity of stating such an obvious thing.

  Master Hain nodded. “And when I rescued you from the water?”

  She frowned. “You used vibrations to send the rope to me? How does that work?”

  “It will take time to explain. Now. Zes Sivas is full of magic, as I said, and you have now been here long enough that your body should be attuned to it. Now we can begin your training.”

  “You mean all this time I was waiting, it was just about getting attuned? Why couldn’t you have told me that from the beginning?”

  “It was never just about getting attuned, acolyte. I had to see if you were truly worthy of the training. If you could follow simple instructions. If you were willing to work.”

  “Oh.”

  “Since you should be attuned to the magic of Zes Sivas, it will respond to you, once you learn how.” He gestured to the nearest table. “First, you must learn how to sense the magic.”

  Seri stepped up to the table. Two wooden blocks sat on it. They appeared identical.

  “Hold your hand over each one in turn,” Master Hain instructed. Seri did so.

  “Do you feel anything?” She shook her head.

  “Now, close your eyes and concentrate. One of these blocks has been infused with magic. The other has not. See if you can tell the difference.”

  “Should I touch them?”

  “No, but hold your hand close.”

  Seri did as instructed. She held her hand over one block, closed her eyes and concentrated, just as she had with the stone pinning Dravid. She felt nothing at all. She repeated the process with the second block. Again, she felt nothing. “I can’t tell.”

  “Keep trying,” Hain said. “Your journey to become a mage begins here, but you must take this first step.”

  She tried again. And again. She switched to her left hand. Then back to her right.

  When she was almost ready to give up, she finally felt something. At first, she thought she had imagined it. She switched her hand from one block to the other, then back again. No, it was there. A tiny hum, the slightest movement, could be felt above the block on the left. She lifted her hand slightly, then lowered it again. It felt like a tiny muscle spasm in the palm of her hand.

  She opened her eyes and pointed to it. “That one.”

  Master Hain nodded in approval. “Well done.” He pointed at the other tables. “You will find a variety of items on each of the remaining tables. One or more items on each table have been infused. Take your time, and find them all. When you have collected all of the infused items, bring them to me in my office.” He made to leave.

  Seri looked around. Some tables had three or four items. Others had more like a dozen. Her heart sank.

  “This will take all day!”

  “Would you rather return to copying the names of the dead?”

  She sighed and straightened her back. “No, Master. I will do it.”

  “Good. I didn’t believe I had chosen inaccurately this time.” He left the room.

  “This time?” What did he mean by that?

  Hours later, she brought Master Hain a collection of fourteen items, including seven blocks, four buttons, two coins, and one serving spoon. The buttons had been the hardest.

  “You found all but three. Well done.”

  Three? She was certain she had found all of them. Frustrating.

  “Don’t feel bad. Most acolytes miss five or six the first time.”

  Somehow that didn’t make her feel much better. She wanted perfection.

  “Now go get some sleep,” he instructed. “You have strained your senses for hours. After a night’s rest, you will be amazed at what happens.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He smiled. “Just go to bed. I prefer to let you experience some things for yourself.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  TALINIR HELD UP his sword. “All worlds know battle,” he announced. “As a warden, I fight here and in the Otherworld. And when I die, I will fight for all that is good and holy in the third world.”

  “There’s fighting in the afterlife?” Victor asked. “I’ve never heard that.”

  After a surprisingly restful night’s sleep in the too-soft beds, the two young men had eaten breakfast and gotten ready early. Eniri had walked them to the training grounds. She stood nearby, a slight smile on her face as she watched. Marshal found her presence distracting, but he tried to focus on Talinir’s words.

  The warden hesitated after Victor’s question. “There is battle ongoing even now in the third world,” he said at last. “We cannot see it or perceive it in any way, but battle continues between powers that are as far beyond us as we are above the insects. When I die, I believe I will join that battle.”

  “Huh.” Victor looked thoughtful.

  Marshal surveyed the training ground, trying to avoid looking at Eniri. Talinir had brought them to a private, small arena of sorts. A simple wooden wall surrounded the circle of sand they stood upon. Marshal knelt down and ran his hand through the sand, a new experience for him. He frowned at the coarseness and brushed it off his fingers.

  Talinir walked to a stand of weapons and selected two swords. He turned and offered them out, hilts first. “Take these,” he said. “You will not be fighting with them today, but I want you to get a feel for the weight and balance of the blades.”

  Victor took one. “These aren’t the same as the sword you were using before,” he pointed out.

  “No, they are not, although they are still superior to most human-forged swords. The magical fires we use to forge our steel are far hotter than yours, making the steel itself purer. These are perfect for your use,” Talinir said. “Warpsteel swords are… well, they’re even more special, like the sword we made for Akhenadom. I’ll explain another time.”

  “Warp… steel?”

  “Another time.”

  Marshal took the sword that Talinir offered to him. His hand had been tingling all morning, as was often the case, but the minute he grasped the sword’s hilt, the tingling stopped. Strange.

  This sword looked like a traditional broadsword, though not quite as wide as ones he’d seen before. The two-foot long blade looked pristine, far longer than Aelia’s short sword. Marshal could fit both hands on the hilt, but it seemed to be intended for only one hand most of the time.

  Victor
moved away from the others and took a few practice swings. Marshal moved slower. He tilted the sword and felt the balance shift. He tilted it back and felt it again. He lifted it up and down, observing the changes in the way it felt. On instinct, he slid his left foot back and turned half-sideways, holding the sword so that its weight balanced perfectly.

  Talinir raised one of his odd-shaped eyebrows. “That’s a basic defensive stance,” he said. “Aelia taught you that?”

  Marshal nodded. The stance and the sword felt right. It felt natural. It felt good. The balance of the blade felt so easy, so smooth. He wanted to toss it in the air and catch it. Somehow, he managed to restrain that impulse.

  “Victor, I want you to stand the way Marshal is standing,” Talinir said. As he helped both boys adjust their stances, he went on speaking. “Everything has a balance to it. Just as you felt the balance of the sword, how its weight shifted as you moved it, you must also recognize the balance of your own body. In this stance, your center is lower than normal. That helps you maintain your balance.”

  “We stand sort of like this when we’re pulling fish in from the river,” Victor said. He demonstrated, holding his sword as if it were a fishing net he was pulling. “My father said it was to keep the fish from pulling you in.”

  “It’s the same concept,” Talinir said, nodding. “If you were to block a blow from another sword, or deflect a beast’s attack, while standing fully upright, it would knock you backwards, because of the weight shift. By shifting your own weight down lower, like this, you can prevent that.”

  “Now, if someone charges you…” He lunged forward at Victor, who stumbled back.

  “Wrong. You lost your stance and left yourself open. If I had a weapon just then, I could have easily finished you off.” Talinir looked to where Marshal watched. “Marshal, take a step backward.”

  Marshal hesitated, then slid his right foot back toward his left foot, before stepping back with it. He maintained the low stance throughout.