Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  “You can do this!” the King urged.

  Seri pulled as hard as she could and dragged the beams of light back down, re-channeling them all back into Zes Sivas and cutting off the power from Curasir. The impact of the power striking the ground threw her backwards. She felt two strong arms catch her.

  “Well done,” the King’s voice whispered. “With such actions, the world changes…”

  He said something else, but Seri couldn’t make it out. The effort of cutting of Curasir’s magic, after everything else she had been through in the past few hours, had been more than her body could take. She slipped into unconsciousness.

  •••••

  “No?” Curasir repeated. “Very well.” He aimed his sword at Marshal one last time.

  Nothing happened.

  Curasir lifted the sword and looked at it, as if it had done something wrong. “Odd.” He pointed his other hand at Marshal and again, nothing happened. He growled and looked to the east. “That girl. That foolish girl. How did she even get here?”

  Marshal had no idea what he was talking about, but clearly something had gone wrong. He closed his eyes. He didn’t dare focus his power through his other hand. But maybe that wasn’t necessary. Why even use the hands?

  Marshal let himself go limp against the crater’s floor, opened his soul, and gave Curasir his power.

  The magic exploded out of his entire body in one enormous burst, more powerful than anything he had done, more majestic and enormous than anything he had even imagined. Curasir, caught in its thunderous outpouring, skyrocketed into the air and vanished from sight. The impact pushed Marshal back into the dirt, grinding him down.

  As the power faded, so did his strength. He wondered where Talinir was and whether he was all right. He thought of Aelia and wondered what she would think of all this. Would she be proud of him? Marshal couldn’t be sure, but one truth he did know. Through his dust-clogged throat, even as he felt sleep descending, he whispered, “I am loved.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  SERI WOKE AND found herself lying on green grass near the water’s edge on Zes Sivas. It seemed peaceful for a moment, and then the sound of many voices overlapping filled her ears. She got to her feet and looked around.

  The setting sun illuminated an island in shambles. Most of the outer wall had fallen. People milled about inside and outside its remains. One broke away and ran toward her. She recognized him. Jamana.

  “Seri-Belit!” he cried. For once, she didn’t mind at all hearing her full name. Seeing his magnificent grin more than made up for it. She smiled in return and was about to answer, but Jamana reached her and swept her up in an enormous hug. Behind him, she saw Dravid moving toward them as fast as his crutch would allow. Others followed him.

  “Where have you been?” Jamana demanded, letting her go. “We have been searching everywhere!”

  “I’ve been… in another world,” she said as Dravid arrived. He tried to shift his crutch out of the way, but Seri ignored it and hugged him, anyway.

  Ixchel strode up, followed more slowly by Adhi. Her bodyguard looked her up and down. “You look well,” she said. “If you are going to travel to other worlds, you should take me with you. I cannot protect you from here.”

  Seri couldn’t help it. She giggled. Ixchel wasn’t impressed by the idea of another world; she only considered how it would affect her job.

  She looked around at her friends. They looked somewhat battered. All of them had bruises here and there, but no one looked significantly injured. All of them looked at her in expectation.

  “When Volraag caved in the citadel, I sort of… transported myself into the Otherworld,” she said. “I don’t know how long that’s been, or even how I got back, really.”

  “It’s been hours!” Dravid said.

  “What happened, then?”

  Dravid shifted his weight. “I found Jamana and Master Korda and we were on our way back to help,” he said. “That’s when the earthquake hit.”

  “Master Korda protected us,” Jamana said. He pointed toward the citadel. “That building is not safe any more, I am thinking.”

  “Especially after Volraag blasted it!” Dravid said. “He brought down the throne room and everything!”

  Seri looked to Ixchel. “Did everyone that was with you get out okay?”

  Ixchel’s face was as impassive as ever. “One of my sisters died at the hands of that assassin. I do not know what became of him.”

  “And the others? Lord Enuru and Lady Lilitu? Master Hain?”

  “The Lord and Lady are fine,” Dravid said. “Master Hain is… ah…” He glanced at the others.

  “Master Hain is not well,” Jamana said, his smile fading. “We had to dig him out of the ruins.”

  “I need to see him!” Seri said. “Take me!”

  Jamana gestured and they all began to walk together. In her head, Seri couldn’t help but try to map out all of the new Bindings that would have been created through all of this mess. She knew she felt a new one of her own, toward Master Hain. She could tell they were getting closer to him.

  “Volraag is gone,” Dravid said. “He left while we were digging everyone out.”

  “Master Ganak met him at the dock,” Adhi inserted. “He warned him never to come back, I think.”

  “What about the next Passing?” Seri asked. “If his power is not returned…”

  “Things do not look well,” Jamana said. Then he grinned. “But you are alive! And have traveled to another world! This is a good thing. A very good thing. You must tell us all about it!”

  “I will,” Seri promised. “But first, I must see Master Hain.”

  As they walked, Seri heard more news. At least twelve people had died in the earthquake, but more remained missing. The Masters and remaining Lords had all survived mostly unscathed, with their powers to protect them, but the rest of the citadels’ inhabitants were not so lucky. Several apprentices had perished as well. Lords Tyrr and Rajwir had already departed the island, concerned over the possibility of war with the new Lord Volraag.

  The devastation to Zes Sivas was extensive. As Jamana had said, the Citadel of Mages was no longer safe. Much of it remained intact, but extremely unstable. The Inner Sanctum was buried under tons of rubble. The Masters were using careful applications of their power to shift debris, looking for survivors and needed supplies. The Citadel of Kings had fared somewhat better, but the throne room and surrounding areas had been destroyed by Volraag.

  When Seri saw Master Hain, he appeared to be dead. His face, what she could see, was covered in bruises. His right arm and both legs had been bound up with splints. His chest trembled as it rose and fell in labored breathing. His left eye was swollen shut, but his right eye brightened at the sight of her. She knelt by his side. Jamana gestured for the others to back off and give them privacy.

  “I knew…” Master Hain’s voice contained an alarming gurgle to it. “I knew you were alive.” He lifted his left hand and Seri took it gently.

  “I- I transported myself to the Otherworld,” she said.

  Master Hain nodded slightly and coughed. “I suspected. Tell me. All.”

  Seri pointed to her own eye. “It began with this,” she said. While her friends waited, she carefully explained everything that had happened with Curasir, her star-sight, her discovery of Tezan, and her foolish decision to trust Volraag.

  “I should have come to you,” she said, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I was afraid.”

  Master Hain’s hand tightened ever so slightly around hers. “Tell me… about today.”

  As twilight deepened, Seri recounted what she and Dravid had seen, Volraag’s plan, and her own actions. She swallowed hard and began to tell about her adventure in the Otherworld. At her mention of the stranger’s identity claim, Master Hain jerked spasmodically and coughed over and over. Seri found some water and helped him drink. Before he could ask any more questions, she hurried through the rest of the story and finished with waking up
back on Zes Sivas.

  “I can’t be sure he actually is the King,” she said, “but he… felt like it, if that makes sense.”

  Master Hain swallowed. “Can you… go back?” His voice seemed weaker than before.

  “I don’t know,” Seri said honestly. “I can try, but I’m not entirely sure what I did to get there.”

  Master Hain pulled weakly on her hand and she bent closer. In an even quieter voice, he whispered, “Tell all to Master… Korda. No one else. Ask his advice.” Master Hain’s eye closed.

  He was silent so long, Seri thought he had fallen asleep. Then he opened his eye and whispered again, “Whether I… live or die, Lord Enuru will have… to appoint a new Master. Before that… I promote you. You… are a full mage now.”

  “I- I haven’t even been an apprentice yet!” Seri protested.

  Master Hain shook his head slightly. “Full mage. So you… can travel. You will need to…” His voice trailed off and he did not speak again.

  Seri waited a few moments, then stood to her feet. The sky had grown much darker while she knelt. All around, people lit fires and torches in order to keep working. She looked back at the other acolytes. She now outranked them all. It felt strange to think it. She had come to this island to become a mage. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it happening this fast, let alone traveling to the Otherworld, fighting against one of the Eldanim…

  She took a deep breath and looked up. A handful of stars already shone in the twilit sky. She turned back to Jamana.

  “Take me to Master Korda.”

  •••••

  Seri, mage of Arazu, stood on the dock of Zes Sivas in her blue robes, watching as a rowboat approached. She chuckled when she recognized Hauk, the boatman who had brought her here months ago.

  Dravid leaned against a pylon behind her. “So… west, then?” he asked.

  She nodded. Master Korda had listened intently to her entire story and wearied her with questions long into the night. She had foregone sleep even longer to write a lengthy letter to her parents. She couldn’t help wondering about their reactions to her promotion. In the morning, Master Korda instructed her to attempt the journey to the Otherworld again. She was unable to duplicate the feat. Master Korda did not act surprised. Instead, he tasked her with finding the mysterious boy she had helped in the Otherworld.

  “For I suspect you will find that he has returned to our world, as well,” the big mage told her. “Whoever he is, he has much power and will need guidance and protection. Find him, and bring him here.”

  More than that, the Masters all insisted a curse had been lifted somewhere in the West. For some reason, they saw this as even more important than all of Tezan and Volraag’s machinations. Master Korda said something about the end of all curses. Seri couldn’t even imagine what that might mean.

  So many other questions remained unanswered, especially about Curasir. Perhaps he had killed the two Masters to absorb their connections to Zes Sivas and gain the power he needed for that battle in the Otherworld. But that did not explain his interest in Seri, or his connection to Lady Lilitu and her mysterious power.

  Ixchel snorted. “Westerners are weak,” she said. She eyed the approaching boatman suspiciously.

  Seri smiled. At least two of her friends were able to accompany her. Without Master Hain to train him, Dravid had no reason to stay. And Ixchel insisted she would follow wherever Seri went. Master Korda would not permit Jamana to travel yet. As an acolyte, he would be needed. The remaining Masters planned to rebuild the Citadel and had begun sending messages to each of the six realms, asking for aid. Seri wondered if they would be able to make much progress before another earthquake struck. Regardless, there was much work to do.

  “Rasna or Varioch?” Dravid asked.

  Seri hated the thought of going anywhere near Volraag. But he had spoken of a brother, someone who now possessed Lord Varion’s power. Was he the one she had seen?

  “Varioch,” she said. “But we won’t go to the capital.”

  Dravid nodded. “I wish a Master were going with us,” he said.

  Seri agreed. She hated the idea of being the one in charge. But Zes Sivas needed all of the Masters right now. And Master Hain… She had visited him one last time this afternoon. To her disappointment, he had not regained consciousness. The healer did not have much hope for his recovery, either.

  Hauk pulled the rowboat up to the dock and tossed his rope to Dravid. The acolyte caught it, but nearly lost his balance in the process. The boatman glanced over at Seri.

  “Ah, I remember you,” he said. “Had enough, eh? Didn’t think they’d let a woman…”

  Ixchel knelt on the edge of the dock and pointed her sword at Hauk. “You are speaking to my mistress, Seri-Belit, Mage of the Realm,” she said, a fierce look in her eyes. “And you will show her the respect she is due.”

  Seri smiled. Regardless of the journey’s end, she had no doubt it would be interesting.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  “THIS WILL NEVER do.” Marshal was sure he heard a voice speaking through a haze of pain, but he didn’t recognize it. “If you go back here, you’ll drown.” After those confusing words, he heard nothing more, at least not clearly.

  He slept for hours. At times, his pain pulled him partially awake. Someone did something to his hand that caused it to explode in agony, but even that wasn’t enough to restore him to full consciousness. He drifted off again in a few moments. Someone moved him, that much he knew, but not much more.

  Only once did he wake enough to have a coherent thought. “Talinir!” he called.

  “Rest,” the unknown voice responded. “I’ll try to find him later.”

  Marshal opened his eyes the barest fraction and caught a glimpse of a grey beard. Then his eyes rolled back and he slept again.

  When he finally came to himself, the coolness of the air against his face felt strange. Everything had seemed warmer since he crossed into the star-lit realm, though he hadn’t noticed before now. His eyes opened slowly and looked up at the stars. They twinkled across the sky, normal size and color. The moon’s sliver was barely visible near the horizon. Back in the regular world.

  He sat up and winced. His entire body ached, but the sharp pains in his side were the worst. Shouldn’t his hand be hurting more? He lifted it up and saw thick bandages wrapped around his entire left hand and upper forearm. He could tell multiple splints within the wrappings held his bones in place. Someone had worked hard on that. The mystery voice?

  He finally looked at his surroundings. He sat on the shore of a swift-flowing river. Lights from a large city shone from perhaps a mile away behind him. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like Reman.

  Marshal felt fatigue overtaking him again, though not to the degree he had experienced lately. This felt more like the simple tiredness one would expect after a busy day. He lowered himself back down and watched the stars for a few minutes. His heart ached for the beauty of the stars in the Otherworld, but his mind now pushed back against that. It wasn’t the perfect world he had thought it to be. Thinking about that, he slipped off to sleep again.

  “It’s about time!” The loud cry startled him awake some time later. He opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight.

  He heard movement and rolled to see. Victor scrambled down the bank toward him.

  “Do you know how long this stupid Binding has had me running in circles?” he demanded. “It kept wanting me to swim out into the lake!”

  He stopped as he finally saw Marshal’s appearance. “Whoa. What happened to you?”

  Marshal shook his head and pulled himself back up to a sitting position.

  “Did you… did you lose your voice again?”

  “No,” Marshal said. The word sounded so strange coming from his mouth. He wondered how long it would take him to grow used to speaking. He also realized his mouth was parched. He moved down to the water’s edge and tried to drink.

  “Oh. Well
, that’s good, I guess.” Victor looked around. “Where’s Talinir?”

  “I think… I think he’s still there.” Marshal waved vaguely with his left hand and then winced. Scooping water up with one hand to drink wasn’t easy, either.

  Victor knelt beside him. “You look horrible. Here.” He handed him a water pouch. Marshal took it gratefully.

  “I don’t know what you’ve been doing all this time,” Victor went on, “but you’ve missed a lot here. There was quite the uproar over what you did to the temple. Most people think the earthquake destroyed it, but those few dozen that saw you there keep trying to tell the story of the scar-faced man with magic powers.”

  Victor scooped up some water and splashed it on his own face. “Then the prince came back, except he says he’s Lord Volraag now. His father’s dead. Which is why you got the power, I guess. But get this: he has power too! How did that happen? I thought you got it all!”

  “I don’t know,” Marshal said. He handed the pouch back to Victor. “How… long have I–”

  “How long have you been gone? It’s been three days, Marshal. Three days since you and Talinir jumped through that crazy doorway and left me behind.” Victor sounded hurt.

  Three days. Had it been so long? Had it been so short? It felt wrong either way. “My… mama?”

  Victor let out a breath and his shoulders relaxed. “Nian took care of everything. Come on. I’ll take you there.” He took Marshal’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

  •••••

  A simple stone marked Aelia’s resting place amidst a small grove of pine trees. Her name and that of her father were its only decoration. Marshal knelt beside it and rested his hand on the stone’s smooth surface.