Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  Victor returned with Nian only an hour later, just in time for a late supper. To Marshal’s surprise, the inn served baked chicken and potatoes, a rarity for him, but one of his favorite meals.

  Although the innkeeper urged them to enjoy the city’s night life, the entire party felt exhausted after the day’s travels. They all went to bed early.

  Marshal found great difficulty sleeping. He attributed part of it to the soft bed. Over the last few weeks, he had grown accustomed to sleeping on the ground. The bed felt completely wrong. He tossed and turned for hours.

  In addition, his mind kept wandering. The day after tomorrow, Aelia would try to lift his curse by dying herself. He would not allow that. But Nian thought Theon might honor her intent. Would his curse be lifted, then? What would his life be like? To be able to speak when he wanted. To let people know what he was thinking.

  Or what would his life be like if it failed, which seemed the more likely alternative? Where would they go from here? He re-visited all of their previous travels. Would he go back to any of them if the curse was lifted? Or if it wasn’t?

  What would it be like going back to Drusa’s Crossing without his curse? Would he even want to? He had to admit he had little desire to make that journey. But going back to Intal Eldanir? That was different. He would love to return there. His mind thought again of the Starlit Realm, the Otherworld that the Eldanim could seemingly visit whenever they wanted. How glorious that would be. And he could see Eniri again. That took his thoughts in a whole other direction.

  Soon after that, he finally succumbed to sleep, a dreamless sleep that took him far away from any of these questions and considerations.

  •••••

  The next morning at breakfast, Victor suggested walking around the city.

  “That’s a good idea,” Aelia said. “You and Talinir should do that.” Nian had already left to return to the temple.

  Marshal frowned. Why not him?

  “I need some time alone with my son, anyway,” Aelia went on, “and it’s safer if he stays out of sight as much as possible. Lord Varion is gone for the Passing, but we don’t know the whereabouts of his son.”

  After a brief discussion, the others agreed. They finished up breakfast and left the inn. Aelia and Marshal returned to their rooms.

  Marshal felt fidgety. Would he have to spend the whole day inside the inn, when this huge city waited outside? It seemed a terrible waste, and profoundly unfair. Maybe if he wrapped cloth around his lower face and wore a hood…

  Aelia settled herself in a chair and looked at him. Marshal barely noticed as he continued thinking about ways to conceal his appearance.

  “Tomorrow, everything will change for you, one way or another,” Aelia said.

  Marshal looked back at her. That was probably true. Here he was thinking about looking at a city, when tomorrow Aelia would try to lift his curse. Of course, she didn’t know that he and Nian would not allow her to die.

  Aelia sighed. “There is so much I want to tell you, but so little that you are ready to hear.” She reached out her hand. Marshal hesitated, then stepped back and took it in his own. He knelt in front of her.

  “I’ve told you about your grandfather many times.”

  Nod is yes.

  “You have grown into a fine young man, Marshal, and you remind me so much of him.” Her voice broke, and she looked down. “I’ve tried to raise you the way I think that he would have raised you, had your– had Lord Varion not killed him.” She looked back up and lifted her other hand to trace the scars on Marshal’s face. Her touch barely brushed against his skin.

  “He would have loved you so much,” she whispered. She swallowed and grew silent for a while.

  Marshal had no idea how to respond. He had been so focused on preventing her death that he hadn’t really thought about what it meant - that she was willing to die, so that he might live without his curse. What kind of love was that?

  She had kept so many secrets from him for so long. She still tried to keep this secret. She knew that if he knew, he would not allow it.

  At that moment, his eyes caught movement in the shadows on the floor, cast by the sunlight streaming in through the window. Something had moved across the window and cast a new shadow across the floor. They were on the ground floor, so it was entirely possible for someone to walk by and block the sunlight. But the shadow didn’t move. Watching them? Aelia didn’t seem to notice. She appeared deep in thought.

  Marshal jumped to his feet and turned to the window. The figure casting the shadow was a shadow himself. An eidolon looked back at him.

  Even here, in the city, it watched him! What would it take to rid himself of these things? Even as his mind raced through these thoughts, the creature moved to its left and vanished.

  Aelia stood up behind him. “Was someone there, Marshal? I thought I saw a shadow.”

  Shake is no, but he shouldn’t do that. He shrugged instead. That seemed right this time. She hadn’t believed Victor when he had told her about fighting the eidolon the last time. Even if he could tell her now, she might not accept it.

  “Look at you, so broad-shouldered, so grown up.” Aelia rested both her hands on Marshal’s shoulders. “You’re truly a man now, my son. I hope… no, I believe that you are ready to face whatever this world has to throw at you.”

  Marshal continued to look out the window. He wasn’t sure if she expected a response, and if so, what it might be.

  Aelia took in a deep breath and let it out. She took hold of Marshal’s shoulder and gently turned him to face her. “Look at me,” she said.

  This again? He met her eyes. Their golden warmth was shinier than usual, enhanced by the teardrops that hadn’t quite fallen yet.

  “You are greatly loved, Marshal. Do you believe me?”

  Nod is yes. How could he doubt that now?

  “You are valuable, Marshal. Do you believe me?”

  It was harder this time. She thought he was valuable. Talinir clearly thought he was valuable. The Eldanim who had blessed him had thought he was valuable. He had more proof of his value than he had ever possessed. He didn’t understand why they thought he was valuable, but they did. He nodded.

  “You have a purpose in this world, Marshal. Do you believe me?”

  A purpose. Before all this had started, he thought that to be a ridiculous concept. Now? If his curse were truly lifted, and the power of Lord Varion came to him, he might have a purpose. Lord of Varioch? Conceivable, maybe, but still ludicrous. Was that why Aelia and the Eldanim thought him so valuable? Because he might become a Lord and have power? Did power make one valuable? Even so, power alone could not give someone a purpose. It was what you did with the power. Wasn’t it?

  Aelia took his silence for a response. “We all have a purpose in this world, my treasure. Perhaps my whole purpose was in preparing you for this world. If so, I hope I have succeeded. Your purpose… you may be getting ideas of it at last, but it is still so much more than you can imagine. I know this. I have seen it.”

  He furrowed his brow. What did she mean by that? Nian had asked if she had seen the future and she had been vague about it. Was it like that older Eldani woman who had seen the stars fall in his future? Thinking of her and the prophecy made him think of the Otherworld, the starlight realm. Again, he felt the pull on his heart, the desire to see it again, to bask in the light of the stars.

  Aelia ran her fingers through his hair. “I wished for more time with you, but now I don’t know what to do with the time that we have,” she said, though she seemed to be talking to herself more than to him.

  Marshal pointed outside. Aelia laughed. “Yes. We should go for a walk, too.” She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “Come, let your mother show you around Reman. I was younger than you the last time I was here, but I think I still remember most of it.”

  She took his hand and led him to the door. Marshal felt warmth surge inside him. Regardless of the secrets, she was still his mother, and she wanted
to be with him today. Best to enjoy it while it lasted.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  SERI TRIED NOT to think too much about how Ixchel got her back to her room. For the second time, she had experienced the waters of Zes Sivas first hand. It might not have been quite as cold this time, but she had been in it much longer. She had lost hold of the magic a couple hundred yards from the island. That was a long way to swim, even after Ixchel got her out of the robe. She had washed up on shore wearing only her undergarments, soaked to the skin. If anyone had seen her…

  But they hadn’t. At least, as far as she knew. Somehow, they had ended up back in her room, lost the soaking undergarments, and wrapped up in heavy blankets. Ixchel even managed to start a small fire in the fireplace Seri hadn’t used once since her arrival. She wouldn’t admit it was because she didn’t know how.

  After they sat there together for a long time, their shivering slowly subsiding, Ixchel looked Seri over. “You are more than I expected,” she said at last.

  “More what?”

  “More everything.”

  “Um, thanks, I guess.”

  They sat in silence a while longer.

  “What can I do about this?” Seri said at last. “I’m just an acolyte, and this… this is big. Enormous.”

  “The King is not real,” Ixchel said. Seri nodded, then jerked. Ixchel’s voice had been different. Instead of her usual cadence, her voice had actually grown lower with each word. It was practically the opposite of her usual tone.

  Seri looked at her bodyguard and for the first time saw… vulnerability. Sadness, even. Her face was downcast, and her eyes stared vacantly into the fire. The tiniest hint of a tear glistened in the corner of one eye. Ixchel was genuinely upset to discover the King was a fraud.

  The weight of this truth settled on Seri. The King had not returned. All would not be made right. The vortex she had seen, the expanding magical vortex, would not be healed by the Passing. It might even tear Zes Sivas apart.

  In that moment, Seri felt a resolve take its place within her. Regardless of what happened now, regardless of Tezan and Lord Tyrr’s schemes, regardless of the Passing, only one thing mattered. The true King must be found. Even becoming a Master was secondary to that. Unless Zes Sivas, and by extension all of Antises, was saved, no one would care about Master mages, anyway.

  “I’m going to find the true King,” she said aloud.

  Ixchel looked at her and raised her eyebrows. “You?”

  “Someone has to. It’s the only solution. And I probably have the best chance, with my vision, of anyone. Except Lady Lilitu, I suppose. And the Eldanim. But do they want him found? I wonder.”

  “Your… vision?”

  “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story.”

  Seri fell silent for a moment. It was a nice resolve, a purpose, a quest. But it did nothing for the current predicament. Tezan needed to be exposed.

  “Who can I tell?” she asked. “Can I go to Master Hain with this? He would demand to know how I got the idea to investigate. Not to mention his problems with wild magic in the first place. I don’t know if he would believe me.”

  “Are you asking me?” Ixchel said hesitantly, again not at all like her usual cadence.

  “No, I’m just speaking my thoughts,” Seri said. “But feel free to jump in if you have any suggestions.” She hesitated. “I could tell Jamana and Dravid, of course. But then we’d just have this same conversation. We’re just acolytes. We need someone with power.

  “I can’t go to Curasir. He… I just can’t. The most obvious choice would seem to be Lord Enuru and Lady Lilitu. But how do I tell them that one of their fellow Lords is this evil?”

  “They might… find it hard to believe,” Ixchel said.

  Seri nodded. “They’re still probably the best option, unless I can think of someone else, someone who would understand how evil the Lords… can… be…”

  Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of him first? The obvious answer.

  “Volraag.”

  “Lord Varion’s son?”

  “He saved me from his father,” Seri explained. “He knows firsthand how evil they can be. Plus, Rasna and Varioch are almost at war. He would leap at the chance to expose Lord Tyrr!”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Of course! It’s politics, Ixchel. And this one time, it works to our advantage.”

  Seri took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let it out. She had a plan. That was all that mattered for tonight. She opened her eyes and smiled at Ixchel.

  “Thanks for everything tonight, Ixchel. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Drowned.”

  “That’s probably true. I owe you my life.” Seri gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Does that mean…? Oh, my. It does, doesn’t it? I’m bound to you now!”

  Ixchel nodded. Her face made it clear she thought this was blatantly obvious.

  “I never thought about that! Oh, Ixchel. How will we manage this? You’ll be leaving in a few days. Will I have to come with you?”

  Ixchel looked confused. “I will not be leaving.”

  “I meant when Lord Rajwir leaves.”

  “I will not be leaving.”

  “But… why not?”

  “I have told you. I am your guard. You are my Lady.”

  “You mean… you mean your position with me is… permanent?”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I, I thought you would only be guarding me for a week.” Seri felt incredibly stupid. “I had no idea…”

  “This is our purpose,” Ixchel said. “We are assigned to a Lady. We guard her. Until we no longer can.”

  “But, but weren’t you already assigned to Lady Ajaw?”

  “Yes. But she assigned me to you.”

  “She doesn’t want you back?”

  Ixchel’s face looked pained. “She cannot take me back, once I have gone.”

  “I can’t just, you know, assign you back to her?”

  “It does not work that way.”

  “Oh, Ixchel. I’m so sorry. I’ve done this to you, and I didn’t even know about it. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “You did not do it.”

  “But I did. If I hadn’t told Lady Lilitu about my fears, she wouldn’t have gone to Lady Ajaw, and you wouldn’t be here. You must hate me.”

  Ixchel looked at her in shock. “I cannot hate you! I told you! You are my Lady.”

  “You need to explain what that means, exactly.”

  “I will guard and protect you until I die, or until you release me, or assign me to another Lady.”

  “I can release you?”

  “Yes, but to do so would be the greatest dishonor I could face.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, as you said, you are now bound to me. Send me away, and you will suffer.”

  “But… did you have any choice in this? Were you forced to become a bodyguard?” To Seri, it almost sounded like slavery.

  “It was my choice eight years ago. To become one of the Holcan is a dream in my land.”

  “You were just a child eight years ago!”

  “And yet I chose. And here I am.”

  “I guess we’re stuck with each other, then.”

  They both fell silent. Seri adjusted her blanket and let her toes peep out toward the fire. Now that she thought about it, she could feel Ixchel’s presence beside her. It was almost like sensing those with a store of magic, only fainter and more familiar.

  So this was what a Binding felt like. She would be able to sense Ixchel’s presence, and according to her studies, she would instantly know when the other girl was in danger. She found it comforting, in a way. More comforting than having a bodyguard outside her door.

  At that moment, she realized she could feel another Binding. It was weaker than what she felt toward Ixchel, but it was there. She could feel the presence of someone else, here on the island, to whom she owed a great debt. Not her life, but…

&
nbsp; It was Volraag. He had saved her. It was a Minor Binding, since life itself had not been involved. How could she ever repay him? That might be problematic.

  Still, it only confirmed her decision. She needed to find Volraag the next morning and tell him the truth about the King.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  DESPITE BEING UP so late, Seri rose with the dawn. Ixchel was surprised to see her emerge from her room so early.

  “It’s going to be a big day, Ixchel. I may need your help.” She received a nod in return. Seri thought for a moment. “Let’s find a messenger to send to Volraag. I don’t think knocking on the Varioch suite’s door would be a good idea.”

  After sending the messenger, Seri and Ixchel left the citadel. Seri led them in a quick detour through the dining hall to grab a pastry. Once outside, they sat on the stairs leading up the wall. Half an hour passed by, and Seri wondered if the messenger had even delivered her request.

  At last, Volraag emerged from the citadel. He looked around, spotted them, and hurried over. How did he manage to look so good this early in the morning? It was downright disgusting. Everything about him from his hair to his impeccable clothing was immaculate.

  Volraag’s eyes took in Ixchel, but did not linger like most men. He focused on Seri. “I left a trade negotiation with Kuktarma,” he said without greeting. “Your message made it sound urgent.”

  “It is,” Seri said. “You told me that if I ever needed anything, to let you know. I need something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Follow me.” Seri got up and led the way up to the top of the wall. She pointed at the Rasnian ship.

  Volraag looked at the ship, then back at her. “Yes?”

  “Last night, my bodyguard and I snuck on board that ship.”

  “You… what? How did you do that?”

  “That’s not important. What you need to know is that Tezan is a fake.”

  Volraag’s face hardened. “How do you know this?”