Until All Curses Are Lifted

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Until All Curses Are Lifted Page 20

by Tim Frankovich


  “Not the evil corruption they imagine us to be,” Aelia said bitterly. “My grandfather believed that the Eldanim were the only hope to change things in Antises. My father thought it was possible, but discovered the truth later in life. I thought they would at least help with this one thing.”

  “Too many of us are stuck in our ways,” Talinir said. “We have no Bindings and Cursings to control us, as you do, but that does not make our chains any less restrictive, though we forged them ourselves.”

  “And now you create the enemy that will one day destroy you all.”

  Talinir sat back. “How did you find out about the Durunim, may I ask?”

  “I know how to listen and observe,” Aelia said. “It’s nothing more complicated than that.”

  Marshal examined the window, pretending not to listen. The glass had a metal frame, and could be rotated in the middle to allow air to flow in. It was an ingenious design. He had never seen anything like it in a human-built window.

  “What are the Durunim, anyway?” Victor asked. “I’m getting really tired of not knowing what’s being talked about around me.”

  “They are the true enemy we face in the Otherworld,” Talinir said. “I will speak no more of that subject.”

  Marshal could picture Victor scowling and trying to think of a good retort. He smiled in spite of himself.

  He heard Talinir’s voice again. “You don’t have to go to Reman,” he said.

  “What else can I do?” Aelia asked. “That assassin is still out there. The young Lord will keep sending others after Marshal until one of them succeeds. We cannot hide forever.”

  “But if you were able to hide until Lord Varion dies, then Marshal would have the power to defend himself.”

  “Would he? Would the curse even allow that? You’ve heard what your healers have said. He cannot communicate at all, except basic ideas. Would it allow him to use power such as a Lord wields? No, the curse must be removed if he is to live.”

  Aelia’s voice sounded so broken Marshal turned to look. She got to her feet and pushed away Talinir’s offer of assistance.

  “No matter the cost?” Talinir asked.

  “No matter the cost.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  SOMEHOW, SERI MADE it back to her room. Her door did not have a lock, so she pushed her writing table in front of it. It wouldn’t actually hold someone back, but it would at least give her more warning. The table itself gave her a twinge of guilt for not writing to her parents in the last few days.

  She woke up the next morning with the magic of Zes Sivas calling to her, trembling at the edge of her consciousness, precisely like the previous day. Today was a Rest Day, so Master Hain would not be expecting her. She wished she could get training, because the call felt so strong. She longed to tap into the magic and use it. But the Masters held firm on Rest Days. No work.

  When she ventured out of her room, she took her time, pausing at each hallway intersection, using both her vision and her magic sense to be on the alert for Curasir. She found no sign of him anywhere. Relieved, she hurried on. It didn’t take long to track down Jamana. She dragged him to the infirmary.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Dravid demanded when they arrived. “I can feel everything!”

  In her paranoia over Curasir, Seri had almost forgotten about attuning Dravid’s senses. Together, she and Jamana, who had a similar experience to share, celebrated with Dravid and encouraged him. After the murder, the earthquake, and Curasir, it felt good to stop and enjoy the moment. Dravid even claimed the magical sense dulled the pain of his leg.

  “What else have you learned?” Dravid asked after a while. “After you left me yesterday, did Master Hain teach you any more?”

  “Um, not exactly.” Seri took a deep breath and began the story, starting with Curasir’s visit to her bedroom and ending with the scene in the Inner Sanctum.

  “He turned black?” Jamana said. “You mean his skin? Was he darker than me?”

  “It wasn’t even black,” Seri said. “I mean, it kind of was.”

  “Kind of?”

  “I don’t know. Everything looks different in the, the Otherworld. Curasir was black, but not what we call black. It’s just the only word I can think of to describe it. It was almost like he had no color to him at all.”

  “Then he’d be white,” Dravid said. “Black is a combination of colors. White is the absence of color.”

  Seri wrinkled her brow in consternation. “I don’t know. That’s all I can think of. He looked black to me, a black that was, um… a black that absorbed other colors. He was drawing in the colors and they vanished inside of him.”

  Jamana scratched his head. “This color thing… it confuses me. The Eldani told you that the Otherworld is the true source of our magic, is that not correct?”

  Seri nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dravid wincing and gritting his teeth. He was trying to hide his pain again.

  “Then why are you seeing colors there? Master Korda says that our magic is all about vibration. What does color have to do with it?”

  “Maybe you should ask the Masters,” Dravid said.

  “I can’t. I mean, I can’t tell Master Hain about the visions,” Seri said. “I’m afraid to even talk to him about Curasir. He’s the one who brought him here.”

  “Did not Curasir say not to talk to the Masters about your vision?” Jamana asked. “Perhaps I am wrong, but that makes me want to talk to them. I do not trust that man. Or whatever he is.”

  “He did say that. I don’t know. Master Hain is so set in his ways. I feel like admitting that I have a wild magic ability will only make him kick me out.”

  “There are ways to ask questions without telling everything,” Dravid said. “You two are just not thinking right.”

  “Enlighten us, then, oh wellspring of wisdom!” Jamana exclaimed. He reached over and shoved Dravid’s shoulder.

  Dravid made a weak attempt at shoving back, but couldn’t reach Jamana from his bed.

  “Fine, I’ll show you.” He mocked a bow of his head at Jamana. “Great Master Jamana, I have a question.”

  “You are beginning well, I am thinking.”

  Seri stifled a giggle.

  “You have told me that all things have their own vibration. I know that the vibration will be different based on the substance of a thing, whether it is stone or wood, for example. Does that vibration differ between two items of the same substance, but different color?”

  “Oh, acolyte, your question shows much stupidity,” Jamana answered. “Go spend the next two weeks scrubbing pots in the kitchen while you reflect on your inferior intelligence.”

  Everyone laughed, but Seri had to admit that Dravid had it right. “I could ask about Curasir in a general way, too, I suppose,” she said. “I could ask about why he feels so different to my senses. That wouldn’t give anything away.”

  Dravid nodded. “You see? There are always answers, if you can come up with the correct questions.” His smile returned.

  “Such as, how hard will a certain acolyte have to work to walk again?”

  The smile vanished. “That’s not fair.” A look of pain washed over his face again.

  “Why is it not?” Jamana asked. “It is a question. But the answer is up to you.”

  Before Dravid could respond, Seri stood and grabbed Jamana’s arm. “And we’ll leave you to think about it,” she said. “You’re looking tired, and we should let you rest.”

  “But–”

  “See you soon, Dravid.”

  Seri all but dragged Jamana out as he called a quick farewell. In the hall, he turned to her. “What was that? Why did we leave?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just– I needed to get out of there.”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “No, I, I can’t say. But I need to get back to my room. I have to write my parents.”

  Seri hurried down the hall, leaving Jamana looking perplexed. He would have to live
with it. Some things did not need to be discussed. She thought the Binding toward home had faded completely, but Dravid’s situation had somehow woken it back up. She fought down the lump in her throat and kept moving.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THE STREETS SEEMED all but empty the next day. Talinir and the three humans walked toward the outskirts of Intal Eldanir without passing more than four or five Eldanim. The still air unnerved Marshal.

  “Why is it so quiet?” Victor asked.

  “The city is preparing to shift worlds,” Talinir said. “It is an involved process.” He paused. “It’s actually much easier to shift back into this world than into the other.”

  “Huh.”

  Ahead, Marshal could see the end of the road and the Great Plains coming to an end in the distance. A distant green line marked the trees that lined the Trebia River. As they drew near the city’s border, he remembered what Victor had said about the city floating. How far up did it float? How would they get down? He had been unconscious when they entered and hadn’t been near the edge since.

  “How long will it take to get to Reman?” Victor said.

  “It depends on how much we use the roads,” Talinir said. “This won’t be an easy walk. With me, you’ll often be taking paths no one else knows, and they’re not simple. We’ll be avoiding civilization as much as possible. But… I would guess a month and a half will get us there.”

  “A month and a half?” When Talinir did not respond again, Victor muttered under his breath, but didn’t ask any more questions.

  It didn’t take long to reach the edge of the city. The street came to an abrupt end. Marshal stepped close and looked down. The city floated about seven feet off the ground. It wouldn’t be too hard to jump down, but with the high grass below, he couldn’t tell if any rocks awaited them.

  Victor nudged him. “Watch this,” he said, and pointed at Talinir.

  The Eldani warden bent down and placed his palm against the final bricks that made up the road’s surface. He murmured a few quiet words in his own language.

  Marshal felt a jolt, strong enough to make him reach a hand out in balance, but not enough to make him fall. He glanced around and saw the city rising higher. No, that wasn’t right. The city wasn’t rising. He and the others were sinking. A large segment of the road itself had detached and sank down to the ground while they rode it.

  Victor had a huge grin. “Isn’t it the greatest?”

  When the platform neared the ground, Talinir stepped lightly off. The others followed. Almost at once, the platform began rising again. Marshal watched until it reached its starting point and seamlessly rejoined the road above.

  “We need to get far enough away,” Talinir said, setting out toward the Trebia.

  The other three followed him, though with frequent glances back at the floating Eldanim city.

  “Why does it float?” Victor asked. “The city, I mean.”

  “It’s a necessary arrangement for shifting from one world to the other,” Talinir answered without turning around. “The ground may shift and change over time, but when the city comes back, it won’t interfere with anything else.”

  “What if a tree grows up in that spot?” Victor accelerated his pace to catch up to Talinir and walk beside him.

  “It’s also the reason we are situated over the plains. The chances of colliding with anything are very small. Even so, the wardens keep an eye out for things like that.”

  “I suppose it’s the same on the other side? In the other world?”

  Talinir nodded. “There are… plains on the other side, too.”

  “What do they look like?”

  “That is hard to describe. It is the same, but different. The sky is full of giant stars, instead of sun or moon. The landscape is similar to this world, but not always the same.”

  Marshal thought back to his waking in the Otherworld. He had been so transfixed with the stars that he never looked anywhere else. He couldn’t remember a single detail about the landscape. Not that it mattered. The stars were enough.

  “This is far enough,” Talinir announced. He stopped, turned, and looked back at the city. Victor glanced at Marshal and did likewise. Aelia, strangely silent thus far, also looked back.

  For a brief moment, Marshal wanted to keep going and ignore the city. The Eldanim had rejected him, after all. Why should he care what they did? But his curiosity proved stronger. He looked back just in time to see the process begin.

  The city seemed to tremble momentarily. The air warped around it, as it had done with Talinir’s sword in his battle with the mystery beast. And just like then, Marshal’s hands began to shake. He clenched them into fists and held it in.

  Intal Eldanir shimmered, faded, became solid again, shimmered some more, and then vanished away entirely. The Great Plains stretched out before them, empty as ever. Marshal unclenched his fists and felt the power fade, though his palms continued to tingle.

  “Edin Na Zu,” Victor breathed.

  Talinir lifted his sword into the air – a warpsteel blade again, Marshal noted – and cried aloud: “Farewell, fairest city of two worlds. May your journey between them be safe. Return again to this realm, whole and protected. Until then, this world will be the poorer.” He bowed his head for a moment, then sheathed his sword.

  “Now!” he announced. “Let’s make some adjustments. I’m carrying extra weight here.” He lowered his overlarge backpack to the ground and opened it.

  “What? I thought I was carrying enough already!” Victor complained.

  “I don’t think you’ll object to this.” Talinir took out a sheathed sword and handed it to Victor. He withdrew a second one and gave it to Marshal.

  As soon as Marshal grasped the hilt, his palm stopped tingling. He sighed with relief. Talinir put one hand on top of his. Marshal looked up, confused.

  “I’m going to trust you with this,” the Eldani said quietly. “But do not try channeling magic into the sword. I will need to check it at the end of each day, just to be sure.”

  Marshal frowned, but nodded.

  “Should this go on my belt or my back?” Victor asked.

  “On your belt, of course,” Talinir said. “You wouldn’t be able to draw it very easily from your back. You are right handed, yes? Put it on the left side of your belt. Yes, like that. It will take some getting used to, and you may trip on it a few times.”

  “You don’t expect them to fight the assassin, do you?” Aelia spoke up for the first time.

  “He will be back,” Talinir said. “I will try to keep our paths as secret as possible, but he strikes me as one who will find us, regardless.” He hefted his pack and slung it back over his shoulders. “When he does, I may need help to defeat him. I will continue Marshal and Victor’s training every day.”

  “Why would you need our help?” Victor wondered. “Last time, you stabbed him good. How do we even know he’s alive?”

  “Did you see his body when we left the city? No? Then he is alive, and more dangerous than ever. In order to save Marshal’s life, I had to leave a warpsteel blade behind. In that assassin’s hands, it will be especially deadly.”

  “Even so–”

  “I caught him by surprise,” Talinir interrupted. “I will not be able to do so again. I do not know his skill level, but I suspect it to be very high.”

  “I could not contain him for long,” Aelia added. “He was highly skilled. He knew the masters and their techniques.”

  “The point is that I cannot be sure of defeating him alone,” Talinir said. “We must be prepared for any eventuality. That is why they have the swords. Let’s move on.”

  They started walking again.

  “How do you plan to cross the Trebia?” Aelia asked.

  “I do not think it wise to cross near Efesun again. It’s too obvious. We will follow the river south until we find a safer place to cross.”

  The mention of Efesun reminded Marshal of his last night there. The shadow man. Was he friend or fo
e? Perhaps the assassin wasn’t the biggest threat to their journey.

  •••••

  Talinir had not been joking. The differences between his leadership and Aelia’s were enormous. They spent most of the day walking through the tall grass on the edge of the Great Plains, but at a strenuous pace. Aelia had never pushed them this hard on the road.

  The air felt cool, but no longer cold. Only a scattering of clouds traveled the sky while they walked. Winter had moved on now. Marshal grew sweaty by mid-afternoon. He noticed the same of Victor and Aelia, but Talinir showed no signs of perspiration. Did Eldanim sweat?

  Marshal put his hand to the sword’s hilt at his side every few minutes. The relief it granted from his trembles was too much of a temptation to avoid.

  They pushed southeast all day, eventually meeting back up with the trees near the Trebia River. They skirted the trees until twilight. When Talinir selected a spot for their camp, Marshal assumed that meant rest. But Talinir had other ideas. The warden insisted both he and Victor spend the remaining sunlight practicing their stances and movements with the swords.

  “I really should have stopped sooner and given you more time,” he said. “I’ll do better tomorrow.”

  “Maybe right after we’ve been walking so long isn’t the best time,” Victor suggested between labored breaths.

  “It’s a great time,” Talinir said. “As is first thing in the morning, which we’ll start tomorrow.”

  Victor groaned.

  Aelia had been gathering firewood while they trained. When it finally grew too dark to see, she lit the fire, and the three men joined her. Before he sat, Talinir looked up at the sky. “Still within the plains and few clouds. It will be a good star night.” His voice communicated satisfaction.

  Aelia passed out some dried meat. “We will eat better tomorrow,” she said. “I’m too tired to cook anything tonight.”

  “Let me examine your sword, Marshal,” Talinir said. He held out his hand, and Marshal obeyed. Talinir held the sword up and looked at it for a few moments.

 

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