CurseBreaker

by Taylor Fenner

  “Yes, sire,” Gustav and Rana utter before disappearing into mist.

  “Hold on, Hel,” Dyre murmurs into his beloved’s hair. “Rana and Gustav will be back with the antidote soon, so just stay with me.”

  An eternity seems to pass before Rana and Gustav rematerialize with a cauldron and a rounded wooden spoon. To Dyre’s shock two of his guards, Anders and Magnus, burst in through Hel’s doorway. Between them, they drag in a squirming Gerda. Around her wrists are chains made of ice to keep her from disappearing into mist.

  “What is this?” Dyre demands, sitting up straighter against the headboard of Hel’s bed.

  “We found her in the apothecary disposing of deadly nightshade berries,” Anders explains. “We figured you would want to deal with her personally.”

  “You thought right,” Dyre narrows his eyes at the traitor in front of his eyes.

  “Take care of what you need to,” Gustav places a hand on Dyre’s shoulder reassuringly. “Rana and I will take care of Hel.”

  “Save her,” Dyre orders as he places a kiss upon Hel’s clammy forehead. “I don’t care what you have to do, just don’t let her die.” Turning to Anders and Magnus he says, “take Gerda to the dungeon.”

  “We will do everything we can,” Gustav assures him as the guards drag Gerda from Hel’s bedchamber. Dyre reluctantly lets go of Hel and follows the guards, his footsteps thundering against the floor powerfully.

  “What do you have to say for yourself,” Dyre demands as he gets up in Gerda’s face. Anders and Magnus have securely bound Gerda to the dungeon wall using the ice chains so she is unable to escape confinement.

  “It had to be done,” Gerda babbles manically. “It should have been me. I’ve been here all this time; devoting my life to you, silently loving you and yet you chose an outsider. She would have never been the key to breaking your curse. You will never be free to roam the earth as a man again. The queen will see to that.”

  Dyre’s eyes become angry slits, “we’ll see about that.”

  Gerda opens her mouth to spew more hateful words but Dyre reaches for a bucket of water, usually used for the palace prisoner’s to wash themselves with and throws it at Gerda’s face and body. Gerda screeches as the water makes contact with the smoke and mist of her body, revealing her true self.

  Dyre shakes his head in disgust at the short, round, hook-nosed troll under Gerda’s disguise. Gerda’s forked tongue slithers out of her mouth, spewing poisonous venom at Dyre, who sidesteps at the last minute.

  Turning to Anders and Magnus, Dyre orders, “kill her, and make her suffer.”

  “Of course, sire,” Anders bows his head respectfully while Magnus places an iron muzzle around Gerda’s mouth to avoid being hit with her venom.

  “Prepare for the blood eagle,” Dyre hears Magnus tell Anders as he leaves the dungeon to return to Hel’s side. Gerda’s shrieks permeate the air in Dyre’s wake as he follows the snaking staircase upstairs. Though Dyre preferred cutting to the chase with a swift death, sometimes it paid off to have guards that were trained in forms of torture by Dyre’s own father.

  Dyre’s footsteps echo on the stairs as he hurries to Hel’s bedchamber. When he bursts through the door Gustav is standing by the fireplace staring into the flames and by the bed Rana is dabbing Hel’s forehead with a damp cloth. Hel has been moved under the blankets on the bed, her gown removed and replaced with a light shift.

  “Did the antidote work?” Dyre holds his breath.

  “Yes sire,” Rana straightens, “the poison’s effect has been counteracted, but the aftereffects of the poison are still working their way out of her system.”

  “What does that mean?” Dyre asks, joining Rana by the side of the bed.

  “Hel is unconscious,” Gustav explains without looking away from the fire. “It’s unknown how long it will take for her to wake up. It could be as quickly as overnight, or as long as a few days.”

  “Is she in pain?” Dyre inquires, rubbing Hel’s temple with the back of his hand. Her skin is hot to the touch.

  Rana shakes her head, “no sire, she should not be experiencing any pain.”

  “Will there be any long-term effects?”

  “No,” Gustav answers. “Once the poison leaves her she should be fine, albeit in a slightly weakened state for a time.”

  Dyre pulls a chair up to the side of the bed, “Leave us, I will watch over her.”

  “But sire–” Rana begins.

  “I said leave us,” Dyre thunders, dismissing his attendants as he reaches for Hel’s hand. Briefly, he turns back to his housekeeper and groundskeeper, “and I’m warning you and the rest of the staff if I find out that anyone was working with Gerda their fate will be the same as hers.”

  Gustav and Rana swallow hard, flickering out of sight without another word. Minutes tick by as Dyre strokes Hel’s hand and whispers sweet nothings that only feel reassuring to him. The longer he sits the angrier he gets, at himself, at his curse, at Gerda’s unexpected betrayal.

  “We’ve been sabotaged,” Dyre tells Hel bitterly. “Gerda purposefully tried to poison you, all under the false guise of ‘loving me’. You wouldn’t be in this position right now if it weren’t for me. I was selfish when I brought you here.”

  Naturally, Hel doesn’t answer; lost somewhere inside herself until her brain decides it is safe enough to open her eyes and return to the living. Dyre looks up and notices a hardbound book on the table beside Hel’s bed. Curious, he picks it up, instantly recognizing the dragon head engraved on the cover as one of his father’s old books of maps. The book had been passed on to him after his father’s death before Dyre suffered from the day curse. He’d carried it everywhere with him, on the one voyage he’d taken part in after his father’s death, scribbling in it incessantly about the places he’d been and the places he hoped to visit one day. But those days ended abruptly not long after he returned from the sea.

  What was Hel doing with this book? Did she crave the ability to wander the earth freely like Dyre did? Her mute form gives no reply to his curious thoughts.

  Dyre remains at her side constantly over the next two days, refusing to leave even when Rana bustles into the room and tries to encourage him to eat something or lie down in his chambers and get some rest. The change rips through him each morning and night, transforming him from polar bear to man and back again.

  Even now he sits beside Hel's bedside watching her feverishly moan and writhe in her sleep, the poison seeming to be releasing her from its grasp slightly. Dyre rests his chin on his clasped hands, just hoping and praying to the gods that the poison would finish leaving her body.

  Dyre would do anything if only she would open her eyes, even if it meant taking her back to her family for a visit or even letting her go forever.

  My eyelids feel heavy as I try to open them and my mouth feels as if it has been stuffed with cloth. My body tingles like it is filled with tiny needles jabbing at my feet, arms, and legs. I try to remember what happened before I fell asleep but everything feels so foggy. I remember Gerda bringing me dinner on a tray while I was reading in bed. I drank some tea while reading a book of maps I found in the library earlier in the day. That’s when I felt my throat getting tight and realization dawned on me that there was something in the tea.

  Who would poison me? I know Gerda doesn’t like me, but she had said Dyre sent her, insisting I eat.

  I fight to open my eyes, moaning a little in pain. When my eyelids finally crack open I see a sliver of light peeking through the bed curtains. I struggle to sit up, my body feeling heavy.

  At my movement the bed curtains rip open and Dyre stares down at me worriedly. The wrapping around his front leg, as well as the wound under the wrappings, are nowhere in sight.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice coming out sounding rough as if I haven’t used it in a long time.

  “You were poisoned by Gerda in an attempt to get to me,” Dyre explains as he checks me over with his paws.

 
“What, why?” I ask as I try once again to straighten into a sitting position.

  “It doesn’t matter why,” Dyre replies darkly. “She hurt you and she has been punished for it. Rana and Gustav got the antidote to you in time, but we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for three days.”

  “I’ve been asleep for three days?” I gasp. It doesn’t feel like three days have passed. I close my eyes and I can feel dregs of my nightly dream of the man coming to lie beside me, but this time it feels different. Pinpricks of memory stab at me of the man lying beside me and whispering soothing words into my hair. I reopen my eyes and try to focus on what Dyre is telling me.

  “Yes, Hel,” Dyre whispers, “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I feel tired,” I admit.

  Dyre nods his head regally, “yes, Gustav said you would be in a weakened state after you awoke.”

  “I guess now you’ve saved my life,” I try to smile but my face feels frozen.

  “It was mostly Gustav and Rana,” Dyre ducks his head.

  “Thank you,” I murmur anyway.

  Dyre clears his throat, “I’ve done a lot of thinking while you were asleep. Would you like to go see where your family is living now? Get away from the palace for a day?”

  For a moment I’m stunned by his suggestion. Dyre waits anxiously for my answer. “Do you really mean it?” I ask.

  “Of course, Hel,” Dyre nods. “I’d do anything to make this horrible experience up to you.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” I leap forward using a short burst of energy and hug Dyre’s soft, massive body.

  Dyre holds me close longer than I expected before pulling back, “very well then, I shall begin putting things in order for us to travel to them.”

  “Thank you,” I smile up at him, towering over me. “This means the world to me.”

  “Anything for you, Hel,” Dyre murmurs.

  Dyre insists I rest and return to my full strength before we disembark to visit my family. In the coming days Rana bundles me up and I spend my days in the library lying in a mound of blankets, furs, and pillows while I try to read. My mind frequently wanders to thoughts of my parents and my siblings. I’m eager to see where they’re living and how their lives have improved since I left for the palace.

  Finally, on the fourth morning since I woke from the poison-induced sleep, a bright Sunday morning, Dyre comes to fetch me in my bedchamber.

  “Today I’ll be taking you to visit your family,” Dyre says by way of greeting. Something has him acting tense and distant toward me and I wonder briefly if he is rethinking my visit. “Before we leave I must ask that you promise me one thing.”

  “Anything,” I reply eagerly.

  Dyre sighs, “While you are in your parent’s new home I ask that you not speak alone with your mother, only while the others are around to hear.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because she’ll try to separate you from the rest of the family and lead you into a room alone to talk,” Dyre explains. “You must promise not to do that, or else you’ll bring bad luck on both of us.”

  “Okay,” I nod, “I promise I won’t.”

  “Thank you,” Dyre breathes, sounding relieved by my vow. Shaking off his thoughts he adds, “Rana will be right in to assist you in dressing. I will meet you in the great hall for breakfast.”

  Once Dyre ducks out of the room, Rana materializes with a bundle of clothing in her arms. She efficiently works at getting me bathed and into a red dress with a gold insert in the skirt and long, puffy sleeves.

  “What should we do with your hair, milady?” Rana asks as she gently works a comb through my hair.

  “Um,” I bite my lip. “I’m not sure, what do you think is best?”

  Rana taps her bottom lip with her index finger as she circles around me, “we could leave it down but the wind might tangle it as you travel. Perhaps I could pin it back for you?”

  “I trust you, Rana,” I look at her reflection in the mirror. “My hair is at your disposal.”

  Rana’s reflection grins at me as she begins pulling pins out of a small drawer in the vanity and sets out to pin sections of my hair away from my face. When she finishes and steps back I admire my reflection in the mirror before thanking her.

  “It looks wonderful, Rana,” I say sincerely.

  Rana beams with pride, “thank you, Hel. Safe travels.”

  I meet Dyre in the great hall and he watches as I quickly fill up on toasted bread and jam.

  “You’re not eating again?” I question when I catch him watching me. Dyre shakes his head. I scowl, annoyed that he’s back to not eating in front of me. I lay the piece of bread back down onto the plate in front of me. “Will your leg be alright for the journey? It won’t put too much strain on you will it?”

  Dyre shakes his head again, “I should be fine. I feel good as new already.”

  I stare at him for a long minute, unsure whether to believe him or not.

  Finally, noticing I’m no longer picking at my breakfast Dyre stands and asks, “Are you ready to go?”

  I nod and follow him into the front corridor. Dyre returns to all fours as the guards open the door for our departure and I realize for the first time in months that most of my time at the palace I’ve seen Dyre walking on just his two back legs. The strangeness of it hits me, how Dyre tries so hard to be almost human.

  “Hop on my back and we’ll be off,” Dyre murmurs as sunlight flickers across his face. I comply and hold tight to the fur on his back. I forgot how rough riding on Dyre’s back could be as he picks his way over rocks and fallen branches.

  We burst through the protective barrier between the palace and the rest of the world and Dyre turns us southbound. Traveling in the late spring heat is exhausting and by midday I’ve removed my traveling cloak and laid it across my lap.

  “We’re not going the same way we came from when we traveled here,” I remark as the afternoon wears on.

  “Your family has moved to a new home,” Dyre explains. “They now live far to the south near the village of Hedeby.”

  “Truly?” I ask, thinking of the large village far south of our village located northeast of the trading village, Ribe. “The trading settlement in the south? My sisters must love it there.”

  Dyre snorts, “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “No,” I muse, “even if they love their new lives they wouldn’t tell me. They’ve always had something to complain about. Except Arika, but she’s different.”

  Dyre picks up on the sadness in my voice, “what’s so different about your sister Arika?”

  I tense up on his back, “she just has different things to worry about now.”

  Dyre seems to accept my vague answer and we fall into silence. We continue onward until the stars begin to dot across the navy colored sky before stopping to make camp. After a sparse dinner of food Dyre took from the kitchen before we left the palace, I fall asleep on a bed of leafy plants, pulling my cloak over myself like a blanket.

  My eyes close and sleep begins to creep over me as the sound of something cracking and breaking echoes through the forest. I shiver as my phantom bed companion infiltrates my dreams, rubbing my shoulder through my gown as he lays himself beside me.

  In my dreams I see a young boy with wide, inquisitive blue eyes, alabaster skin, and a curtain of shoulder length black hair playing in the palace library. He sits on the floor beside a man with massive shoulders and a thick mane of black hair. As the man flips through a stack of papers he pauses to look down at the boy and the stern look on his face melts into that of a doting father. A woman with strawberry blonde hair and freckled skin glides into the room and places her arms around the man’s shoulders, softly placing a kiss upon his cheek. The little boy giggles and reaches for his mother.

  Who are these people? My mind questions as I wake slightly. The phantom hand on my shoulder tenses and stops its caress of my skin. Was this the king and his family that once lived in the palace? Did Dyre g
row up with the little boy? Is the phantom that comes to me when I sleep the little boy all grown up?

  Once I relax enough to fall deeper into sleep, the hand resumes stroking my arm comforting me as the dark abyss of dreamless sleep envelops me.

  Sunlight dances across my eyelids the next morning as I reluctantly open my eyes and stretch out my stiff limbs. Leaning against a nearby tree Dyre sits studying me unblinkingly.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask nervously, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  Dyre blinks slowly, coming out of whatever trance he’s been in. “What? No, sorry. I was just thinking about something; didn’t mean to stare.”

  I laugh, “it’s okay.”

  Dyre stands, his fur damp from the early morning dew. “Will you be alright until we reach your family’s home? It’s only about half a day’s trip, but since I only took enough food from the palace for last night’s dinner I don’t have anything to offer you for breakfast.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure him as I too stand, straightening my dress and running a cramped hand through my hair, which came loose from Rana’s perfect updo during the night and untangle some of the knots that always manage to form at the ends of the longest strands.

  A light drizzle falls on us as we travel out of the wooded area we made our camp in last night. The closer we get to Hedeby, houses and farms begin popping up right and left. Dyre manages to avoid the main road and stick to wooded paths to avoid being seen. As midday approaches the rain slows to a stop and the sun tries to peek out between the gray clouds above.

  “We’re almost there,” Dyre announces as we break through a cluster of trees.

  A large dwelling starts to appear in the distance. As we grow closer the house morphs into a sprawling three story log home. Two massive windows flank a wide door with a life-sized wolf carved into the wood. On the second and third floors colored glass offers privacy to the private chambers and the roof is adorned with two massive dragon heads.

  Two little boys round the side of the house, playing some sort of game, and it takes me a minute to recognize Espen and Leif. When they spy our approach they spin around and run into the house.