Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Seri said, “but I need to see what is happening in Lord Varion’s rooms.”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Dravid crawled past one of the curious metal vents and stopped. He turned around and gestured. This was it. Seri moved up beside him and looked down.

  Lord Varion rested heavily in a huge armchair, his hands covering his eyes. His chest raised and lowered in deep, slow breaths. From what she could see, he was alone.

  The door to the next room opened and Volraag strode in, followed by a hooded man dressed in tattered clothes, hardly the escort of a nobleman. The tatters had once been many colors, but they had faded into pale shades of gray and brown. Seri paid him little attention. She found herself growing furious at the sight of Volraag. He had betrayed her trust and murdered dozens of innocent people!

  Then the hooded man dragged in a third: Tezan. Seri stifled a gasp. He threw Tezan onto the floor in front of Lord Varion, who barely moved.

  “Did you enjoy my surprise, Father?” Volraag asked.

  “Eh? That was your doing in there?”

  “Yes. Turns out our ‘King’ here was just a wild magic user who was channeling magic from others. I just took away his source of power.”

  Lord Varion laughed, but ended up coughing. He did not look well at all.

  Volraag walked to the desk and picked up some papers. He flipped through them without paying much attention. Tezan muttered something no one could hear, but stayed on his hands and knees. The tattered man stood by the door. Lord Varion noticed him for the first time.

  “Who is this?”

  Volraag appeared to ignore him. He set the papers down and looked off toward the center of the citadel. “As I recall it from last year, your power will come rushing back to you probably in about five to ten more minutes. Lord Tyrr should be getting his back right now. It happens in the order that you gave them up.”

  “Yes, that’s the way it works. Volraag, who is this man and why is he here?”

  “Him? He works for me. And he’s here because your time is up, old man.”

  “What?” Lord Varion’s voice rose. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m saying that I’m tired of waiting for you to die.” Volraag finally looked directly at his father. “I’m tired of watching you abuse this incredible power you have, year after year.” He took a step closer. “The wrong people have too much power in Antises. It’s time to change that.”

  Volraag gestured to the hooded man. “Do it.”

  The stranger stepped forward, and as he did, his hood fell back. This time, it was Dravid who barely contained a gasp. Seri glanced at him, then back at the drama below. The stranger’s skin was gray and… peeling? Only one condition made someone’s skin appear like that: leprosy.

  Lord Varion had the same thought. “You bring a leper into my chambers? What is wrong with you, boy?”

  The leper slipped behind Lord Varion’s chair before he could turn. A cord of some kind appeared in his hands. He looped it around Varion’s neck and pulled.

  Lord Varion gasped and his huge hands tried vainly to pull the cord away. The leper pulled tighter and Varion’s eyes grew wide. Inarticulate sounds came from deep in his throat.

  Dravid touched Seri’s shoulder and she looked up. He gestured below as if asking if they should do anything. Seri lifted her hands helplessly. What could they do? What should they do?

  Volraag watched impassively. Tezan looked up from the floor and a look of horror flooded his face. “What are you doing?” he cried.

  “I would think that would be obvious,” Volraag answered. “By now, my half-brother should also be dead, leaving me as the rightful Lord of Varioch and heir to its power. Trust me. I’ll do far more than my father ever did with it.”

  “You can’t kill someone like that!” Tezan said.

  The leper yanked harder and Lord Varion’s feeble attempts to escape stopped. His arms dropped to his sides.

  “It appears that I can,” Volraag said.

  The leper held the cord tight a moment longer, then let go. He checked Varion’s breathing. “He’s dead,” he said in a raspy voice that sent chills down Seri’s back.

  “Excellent. Any minute now, the power will come to me.” Volraag faced in the direction of the Inner Sanctum and closed his eyes. “I’ve waited so long for this.”

  Silence descended on the room. The leper moved to stand next to Tezan. Volraag waited with his eyes shut and hands spread to his sides. Seri and Dravid watched.

  Nothing happened. Minutes ticked by.

  “Perhaps you made a mistake,” Tezan said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

  “Shhh,” Volraag breathed. “We must wait for good things to come to us.”

  Still nothing happened. Seri couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that more than ten minutes had gone by since Varion’s murder.

  Finally, Volraag opened his eyes. “As unlikely as it seems, Kishin must have failed,” he said. “This complicates matters.” He turned and looked down at Tezan. “Fortunately, we have you, sire.”

  Tezan looked anxiously at the leper and back at Volraag. “I… I can be useful to you,” he said, licking his lips.

  “Yes, you can.” Volraag looked to the leper. “Bring him. It’s time for the next stage of the plan.”

  •••••

  Nian moaned and started to pull himself up. Marshal had barely noticed his presence. The priest felt the back of his head and then his nose. “Owww. What happened? Who was that?” Then he noticed Marshal and Aelia. “Oh.”

  He shifted nearer, leaning on one arm while he stretched the other toward them. “Marshal, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. The eidolon–”

  “Stop.”

  Nian’s eyes widened and he almost fell, barely catching himself. “You… you spoke! The curse is lifted?”

  Marshal turned to look at him. “Yes,” he said.

  Nian’s mouth hung open. “P-praise Theon,” he whispered. “I didn’t… I doubted. I’m so sorry.”

  A gust of wind came out of nowhere and brushed Marshal’s hair back. Nian felt it too, and looked around in confusion.

  Marshal looked up at the open sky. In an instant, something struck him. He felt it like a sudden pressure over every inch of his body. In a moment, it pushed into him, then swirled around, congealing within his chest. The pressure was now inside, pushing out. As it grew, he realized it was power, power like he already possessed, but so much stronger. And it kept growing. Another wave of the outside pressure hit him and pushed inside, followed by another.

  Marshal’s hands began to shake, followed by the floor around him. “What’s happening?” Nian asked. Marshal couldn’t answer. The power grew and grew and grew. He felt like he was going to explode.

  And then he did.

  Marshal threw his arms up and power erupted out of him. He screamed, a raw, visceral sound that combined his grief, anger and confusion all together in a roar almost immediately drowned out by the rumble of stones shattering. The roof of the temple exploded outward, sending shards of rock and dust in every direction. The waves of power Marshal continued to spew outward pulverized what was left.

  As he lowered his hands, the power continued to flow, ripping massive tears down both walls. Chunks of stone tumbled both inward and out. Nian scrambled out of the way.

  Finally, the eruption stopped. Marshal remained on his knees next to Aelia, though his whole body continued to tremble. Silence descended, but only for a brief moment. With a groan, the entire front half of the temple folded in on itself and collapsed. A cloud of dust bloomed outward, obscuring anything outside.

  Nian stood shakily and looked around. “The power…” He looked down at Marshal. “Did that just… happen?”

  Marshal nodded. Then blinked as he realized he had done so instinctively, without having to think about what a nod meant.

  “Lord Varion must be dead,�
� Nian said, almost to himself. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  He took Marshal’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “And that makes you, my friend, the new Lord of Varioch.” He looked around at the destruction. “But the priests might not be too quick to confirm that, I’m thinking.”

  Marshal opened his mouth. “I… I don’t…”

  “Marshal!” The shout came from outside. “Marshal! Are you there?”

  Marshal looked around as his thoughts became more ordered. The assassin was nowhere to be seen. But another enemy waited outside. He balled up his fists and started forward. It was time to end this.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

  “WHICH WAY ARE they going?” Seri asked.

  Dravid craned his head to see Volraag as he left the room. “I think… they turned right.”

  “Let’s go!”

  Seri crawled as fast as she could. She had no idea what Volraag’s next phase might be, but the man had already killed dozens, including his own father. With that strange leper working for him, he seemed capable of anything, defying the Laws of Cursings and Bindings.

  Another strange wave of power washed over them. Seri almost felt like it pushed her against the far wall of the tunnel. It had a direction to it. If she weren’t so mixed up in her directions, maybe she could tell–

  “West,” Dravid said. “It came from the west.”

  Rasna or Varioch, then. The Masters had said it indicated a curse being lifted. Was this second wave another curse being lifted, or a continuation of the first?

  No time to think about it now. Seri hurried on until she found another vent. She made room for Dravid and peered down. Which Lord’s room was this?

  Lord Rajwir and Lady Ajaw stood almost directly below the vent, locked in a passionate embrace. Seri jerked her head back in embarrassment. If anyone was safe from Volraag, it was these two. Lady Ajaw’s bodyguards no doubt waited just outside the door.

  Seri yanked on Dravid’s sleeve and hurried on to the next vent. If the rooms were set up in geographical order, as things had been in the Inner Sanctum, this would probably be Mandiata. She looked down.

  A dark-skinned scribe hastened away from a massive chair facing the wall. Seri couldn’t see the occupant, but the tiger pelt thrown across the back of the chair made it clear that this was Lord Sundinka of Mandiata.

  “Should we do something?” Dravid whispered.

  “What can we do? Yell at him to watch out?”

  “Maybe?”

  “By now he’s got his power back. If we just yell, he’s more likely to attack us, once he figures out where we are. I don’t think he’ll appreciate us spying on him.”

  A thump came from the exterior room. Seri looked back down in time to see the door open and Volraag enter, followed by Tezan and the leper. The assassin was cleaning blood from a dagger.

  “I said I needed rest, Bouba,” Sundinka said without looking.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, Lord Sundinka,” Volraag said. “I have some rather urgent business.”

  Lord Sundinka came to his feet slowly and turned. His eyes took in the three men. “What is this? How did you get in here unannounced?”

  “Start your work,” Volraag said to Tezan. He turned to the leper. “You know what to do.”

  The leper turned and rushed at Lord Sundinka. Seri gasped, but her eye was drawn to Tezan, who raised a hand toward Lord Sundinka and appeared to be concentrating.

  “Fools!” Lord Sundinka’s rumbling voice was drowned out by his own magic that erupted out from him before the leper could reach him. His chair shattered, the leper was thrown across the room, and the tiger pelt fluttered through the air. Volraag caught it and held it up almost absently.

  “This is very pretty,” he said. “Surely you didn’t kill this beast yourself, my Lord?”

  “What perfidy is this?” Sundinka held up his hand, palm outward, toward Volraag. “Have you gone mad?”

  “Perfidy. Now there’s an interesting word,” Volraag said. He lifted the tiger pelt up and looked it over with a critical eye. “I suppose that is a good word for what’s been happening throughout Antises lately.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lord Sundinka breathed heavily, clearly exhausted.

  Volraag lowered the pelt and looked at Lord Sundinka. “The rule of the Lords has been, altogether, a dismal failure, don’t you think? The wrong people have held the power, and everyone else has suffered.” He looked at Tezan. “We’re here to change that. Tezan?”

  Tezan had been holding one hand aimed at Lord Sundinka all along. Now he gasped and aimed the other at Volraag. Sundinka winced suddenly. “What… what are you doing?”

  Tezan’s wild magic power! The woman on the boat said he could steal power and give it to someone else! Seri activated her star sight and took in a frightened breath. Sure enough, she could see power flowing in a massive rush from Sundinka into Tezan. And now, it was flowing back through Tezan’s other arm and into Volraag.

  The new Lord of Varioch closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Ahhh. Now this is more like it.”

  “My power! You cannot take my power!” Sundinka charged Volraag with a roar. The leper appeared out of nowhere and stabbed upward into the Lord of Mandiata’s chest. His head fell back with a whimper and he twisted falling off the dagger onto the floor with a heavy crash.

  “Almost…” Tezan said.

  The leper stood over Sundinka and waited. The Lord reached toward him, arms shaking. The last of the power flowed out of him into Tezan and then to Volraag. Tezan dropped his arms and staggered. He fell against the wall and slumped to the floor. Volraag began to laugh. It was the coldest sound Seri had ever heard.

  At a nod from Volraag, the leper stabbed Lord Sundinka again. He stiffened and his arms fell. The leper withdrew his dagger and began to clean it again.

  Volraag pointed at Sundinka’s body and gestured. A burst of power shoved the Lord’s body into the corner of the room. “Now this is more like it!” Volraag cried. He laughed again.

  Seri and Dravid looked at each other. Lord Sundinka was right. This was madness. Someone had to stop Volraag. But how?

  Volraag kicked at Tezan’s leg. “Come on, your highness,” he ordered. “Two down, four to go. Five if you count my half-brother, but he’ll have to wait for now.”

  “Give me a moment,” Tezan said. “I need to rest before I use the power again, if you want it to work.”

  “Fine. Take a break.” Volraag flipped the tiger pelt over his own shoulders and admired it again. “I may just keep this.”

  Dravid pointed, and he and Seri hurried away. They scrambled back toward the exit.

  “We have to stop him!” Seri said. The next room in the geographical order would be Arazu. Volraag might kill Lord Enuru and Lady Lilitu!

  “We need help!” Dravid said. “The two of us can’t stand against a Lord’s power, not to mention those other two.”

  Seri nodded. “You find Jamana and he can get Master Korda,” Seri said. “I’ll find Master Hain.”

  “Why do we need to find them?” asked a voice behind her. Seri almost slammed her head against the tunnel’s ceiling in shock before she realized it was Ixchel’s voice.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Finding you. Not too difficult. What’s going on?”

  “No time to explain.”

  Dravid climbed out of the exit as quickly as he could. Seri followed him. She handed him his crutch and he set off down the hall. Ixchel jumped smoothly down beside Seri.

  “Wait. Can I ask you to help protect someone else?”

  Ixchel frowned. “I am here to protect you,” she said.

  “Yes, but my Lord is about to be killed. He needs someone to protect him right now!”

  Ixchel’s face showed little reaction. She drew her sword. “You want me to go to Lord Enuru’s chambers?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can, with more help. Watch out, though. Volraag is coming, and he has
a Lord’s power. He also has an assassin of some kind with him. Try to slow them down. I’ll be there soon!”

  Without waiting for Ixchel’s answer, Seri turned and raced down the hall. Where would Master Hain be at this time?

  •••••

  Marshal climbed over the fallen stone and looked down into the temple courtyard. Immediately, he found himself the focus of attention. A crowd had already gathered at the gates, attracted by the temple’s fall. At Marshal’s appearance atop the rubble, they erupted in shouts, both of dismay and exuberance.

  Marshal’s attention, however, was drawn to the courtyard itself. His eyes locked on to Victor’s flail, lying alone in the dust almost directly below him. He spun to the left. Victor and Talinir stood there, swords drawn, facing down five of the shadow creatures now, all who also wielded shadowy blades. The two parties had backed away from each other, apparently after some lengthy fighting. Both his friends sported several cuts and injuries. The eidola appeared unharmed.

  Anger welled up in Marshal. He felt the blood rushing into and through the scars on his face. These creatures had been following him around everywhere, even in private moments. They had attacked his friends. They had killed his mother. With all that had happened, he needed somewhere to focus his emotions. This would do.

  Marshal leaped off the rubble. As he did, he released a burst of power downward. Unlike earlier, the power felt the same in both hands. The blast tore apart more stones, and launched him high in the air. He wobbled in the air, but maintained his balance. As he approached the ground, he released a smaller burst that slowed his descent somewhat. He still hit hard and stumbled forward several steps, before regaining his balance. He stood between his friends and the eidola.

  “Impressive,” Talinir said. “I am assuming that you have a full Lord’s power now.”

  Marshal nodded and stared at the shadow creatures. His own sword was buried somewhere in the rubble, but he felt no need of it. His power was enough now. He turned to the central eidolon, who carried a larger sword than the others. It twisted suddenly in a mock bow.