The Zero Curse

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “They’re coming along,” I said. I indicated one of the frameworks, hoping she didn't have the knowledge to be aware that I was being economical with the truth. “The thresher is taking shape, slowly. I’m hoping to have it finished in the next couple of days.”

  Valeria didn't react to my words, something that bothered me. Ice ran down my spine. She didn't expect us to leave, even though our planned departure date had already been pushed back twice. And that meant ... I wondered, grimly, if I should expect to have my throat slit in the night. Akin and Rose might be able to fit in with the farmers, but me? It was obvious that I hadn't been born anywhere near the community.

  But Akin won’t want to stay here either, I reminded myself. And he has enough magic to make it difficult for them to keep him prisoner.

  I scowled, hating myself. The farmers had greeted our arrival with mixed feelings, yet they’d fed us ... I shouldn't be so concerned about being betrayed. I hated myself for being careful, but ... but I had no choice. Fairuza had made it clear that I was an asset to be exploited, not a person in my own right. Valeria might feel the same way too.

  “Very good,” Valeria said, again. “And after that ...?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her. It was true, more or less. “I’m running out of raw metal and supplies. Getting more will be a problem.”

  “We can trade with scavengers,” Valeria informed me. “It won’t be a problem.”

  She turned and strode out of the barn, leaving me speechless. She didn't mean for us to leave, then. I wondered, vaguely, how they planned to keep us prisoner. Akin and Rose had their magic, I had my spellcasters ... did Valeria and her family have magic? I’d seen them use a handful of spells, but that didn’t prove they were trained magicians. Or were they simply planning to kill all three of us? We were liabilities and they knew it.

  I turned back to the Object of Power that was starting to take shape on the bench. It was complex, yet strikingly simple. Understanding the truth behind magic - and how it flowed around and through Objects of Power - made it so much easier to forge. The spellform hadn't snapped into existence yet, but ... I picked up the etching tools and resumed carving runes into the metal. It should be ready to be triggered in an hour and then ...

  We leave after dark, I told myself. Getting out of the farmhouse wouldn't be a problem, not with magic. And then we go straight home.

  The Object of Power felt warm under my hands as I tested each of the connections, wishing I had access to an apothecary. There was no way to be entirely sure that the metal was pure, not until I triggered the spellform. If it wasn't pure ... I’d built redundancies into the design, but I was grimly aware that there were limits. Flashes of raw magic, utterly out of control, would probably reduce the entire design to scrap metal in short order. It certainly wouldn't be able to get us home.

  I sighed and walked over to the nearest framework. It had been a carriage of some kind, once upon a time. Or so I thought. All that mattered, now, was that it would provide a convenient host for the Object of Power, as well as giving us somewhere to sit. We’d have to hang on tightly - I had no idea how fast we’d actually move - but it should work.

  And it looks like a climbing frame, I thought wryly. The next one I put together, at home, will be much neater.

  I cleaned the carriage carefully, then attached straps to keep us in place. It should suffice ... I hoped it would suffice. And if it didn’t ...

  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I told myself.

  I walked back to the Object of Power and - carefully - carved the last runes into place. The Object glowed with a brilliant light, burning so brightly that I feared it was going to set the entire barn on fire. I ducked down, covering my eyes as the light grew brighter, then snapped out of existence. I rose, slowly. The Object of Power sat on the table, waiting for me. It looked ... odd, as if my mind couldn't quite grasp the details. And yet ... I reached out and touched it, feeling a shimmer of potential pass through my mind. The Object of Power was ready to use.

  A voice echoed through the air. “Dinnertime!”

  I picked up the Object of Power, concealed it near the framework and then hurried out of the barn. The sun was slowly sinking in the distance, although it would be hours yet before it was dark. I silently plotted our next steps as I hurried to the farmhouse. We’d stay awake at night and sneak out when it was completely dark, using magic to conceal our passage. And then we’d go home ...

  The children waved at me, cheerfully. They weren't staring any longer. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, although at least they weren't asking any more stupid questions. One of the boys had been smacked on the head by his mother, just for asking if I’d had a forging accident and somehow miscoloured my skin. Now ... I was just part of the farm, as far as they were concerned. I wondered, sourly, if Valeria had encouraged them to welcome me.

  She could kill my friends and keep me prisoner, I thought. But she would have to keep a very sharp eye on me if she expects me to be actually useful.

  I pushed the thought to one side as I walked into the farmhouse and joined Rose. Akin was nowhere to be seen. The tables were already covered in food: bread, cheese, cooked meat, eggs ... I glanced around, puzzled. Where was Akin?

  Rose nudged me. “Some of the boys said they’d show him how to kick a ball around,” she said. “I think they’re getting him to play with them.”

  “Oh,” I said. Did the boys have time to play football? Did the girls play netball or softball or ... or chess? I found it hard to believe. And yet ... we’d played games at home. Maybe farmers played games too. “Is he having fun?”

  “I think it’s a pleasant change,” Rose said.

  We took our food and walked to the table. A handful of older men congratulated me on my work, promising to find more tools for me to repair. I think they intended to hire me out to the community. Perhaps I wouldn't have minded, if things had been different. If I’d never discovered my talents, would I have been happy here? Alana had certainly promised to kick me out of the family when our parents died. Maybe she would have exiled me to a farm and left me there.

  She would probably have locked me away in one of the estates, I thought bitterly. I’d heard stories of mad aunts in the attics, children who’d been locked away for being deformed or otherwise embarrassing. Why not a girl with no magic? And I would have gone mad there.

  Akin came in, looking tired and muddy. There were more bruises on his skin. But he also looked happy.

  “It was fun,” he said, when I asked. “But it was also rough.”

  We ate dinner slowly, savouring every bite. I made sure to eat as much as I could, knowing that it might be quite some time before I could eat again. Rose eyed me sharply, then followed my lead. Perhaps she had her doubts too, even though she fitted into the farm better than either of us. I hoped Akin would pick up the cue too. If nothing else, a day of hard work followed by football would give him an appetite ...

  The ground shook, violently. I started, one hand dropping to my spellcaster as a thunderous roar echoed through the air. People shouted and screamed, the women heading for the rear as the men grabbed makeshift weapons and prepared to fight. I heard a cow mooing in pain as another flash of light flared outside, so bright it turned twilight into day. The farm was under attack!

  I jumped to my feet, holding the spellcaster tightly. What should we do? Fight? Or try to run? If we got to the barn ... I cursed under my breath. I’d concealed my bag and the scroll in the barn. I didn't dare leave those - and the Object of Power - where our hunters might find them. And yet, how could we get to the barn?

  They’re not blasting the buildings, I told myself. It was surprisingly reassuring. They can't be sure of where we are.

  A voice boomed, loud enough to be heard over the racket. “HAND OVER THE FUGITIVES OR YOUR ENTIRE FARM WILL BE DESTROYED!”

  There was another flash of blinding light. The sound of chickens squawking in pain suddenly cut off. I pulled my spectacles fro
m my pocket and put them on. There were four sources of magic close by, close enough for their presence to be clearly visible even through the wooden walls. Four magicians? They wouldn't need many more, if the farmers didn't have any magicians on their side. I certainly hadn't seen any protective wards. Even a firstie could conjurer enough fire to burn down the entire village.

  Valeria grabbed my shoulder. Her voice was high-pitched, tinged with panic. “I’m sorry, but we can’t stop them!”

  I jabbed the spellcaster at her. She froze. The room gasped with shock.

  “This way,” I snapped. I waved the spellcaster around, threateningly. “Come on!”

  The men seemed torn between charging at us and fighting the magicians outside. I led Akin and Rose to the rear exit, spellcaster at the ready. A magician outside pointed a finger at me, casting a hex. The bracelet warmed, just for a second, as the hex snapped out of existence. I allowed myself a moment of relief, then jabbed the spellcaster at him repeatedly until he froze in place. The spell wouldn't last for long, but it should keep him in place long enough for us to get away.

  Crashes and bangs echoed from behind us as we sneaked around the farmhouse and crept towards the barn. Fairuza’s men didn't seem to be trying to burn down the entire farm, much to my relief. I didn't want to leave the farm in ashes. But it wouldn't be long before they ran out of patience and started casting stronger spells. There were no wards on the buildings, not even a simple ward to keep out supernatural vermin. Fairuza could just cast a slumber spell and put all the defenders to sleep. It wouldn't have worked against a magical household as such spells were easy to counter ... perhaps she wouldn't think of it. I hoped she wouldn't think of it.

  At least the women and children made it out, I thought. I hoped they’d be safe ... I didn't really blame Valeria for wanting to hand us over, even though Fairuza would have put us straight back in the cell. The farmers didn't stand a chance. I felt a pang of guilt, mingled with bitter rage. We brought this down on them.

  A building exploded in a flash of light, just as we reached the barn. I glanced back, just in time to see the farmhouse catch fire. Fairuza or whoever was in charge had clearly realised we weren't in the building ... I wondered, grimly, just how they’d found us. Had someone betrayed us? Or had rumours of a dark-skinned girl reached Fairuza’s ears? I hoped it was the latter. I didn't want to think that one of the farmers had betrayed us.

  I pushed open the door and ran inside. “Get into the framework,” I said. I could hear shouts from behind us. Were they coming? Or were they about to set the barn on fire? Did they know where we were? “Hurry!”

  Akin stared at me. “Are you mad?”

  “No,” I snapped back. I slung the bag over my shoulder, then scooped up the Object of Power. “Grab hold, wrap the straps around yourselves!”

  Akin looked as if he didn't believe me. I understood. The framework did look like a child’s climbing frame, as if we were playing make-believe as all hell broke loose. It definitely looked vaguely silly, to one who hadn't seen me put it together. Even Rose looked doubtful, although she took her place without complaint. And yet ...

  I pulled the Object of Power from cover and slotted it into place. Akin gasped. Beside him, Rose stared in open disbelief. If the Object of Power looked ... strange to me, what did it look like to them? I rested my hands on top, bracing myself. The power seemed to thrum through me, humming with potential ... as if something was just waiting to be born. Dad had told me that magic blades merely scratched the surface of what Objects of Power could do. I believed him ...

  A magnified voice boomed through the air. It was deafeningly loud, but I thought I recognised the sound. Fairuza. It had to be Fairuza.

  “COME OUT OR DIE.”

  “Hang on,” I ordered. Power billowed around me as I pushed down on the Object of Power, pressing my fingers into the indentions. “Here we go ...”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  For the first time in my life I knew - or thought I knew - what it meant to be a magician.

  I was standing - sitting - at the heart of a storm. Power - raw magic - crashed around me, somehow part of me. It buffeted at my mind, making it hard to think; it responded to my thoughts, yet the merest slip risked losing control. I felt the power shimmering through the Object of Power, unsure if I was truly touching the magic itself or something that allowed me to control it. And I had no time to think.

  “Hold on,” I repeated.

  Power billowed out in all directions. The barn exploded outwards, pieces of debris flying in all directions. We lurched backwards, as if we were on a boat that was on the verge of capsizing, then stumbled into the air. It felt weird, as if we were swimming as well as flying ... as if we were no longer bound by the law of gravity. I’d been turned into a bird several times, but this was different. The bird-body had known, instinctively, how to fly. Here ... I was making it up as I went along.

  A flash of light shot past us. I panicked, throwing the framework into the air. A roaring sound echoed past me; I heard someone retch, but I couldn't turn to see who. The ground was suddenly so far below us that my head spun, unable to grasp what I was seeing. We were higher - far higher - than the highest tower in Shallot. And that had been bad ...

  Another hex darted past us. I pushed the framework - the flying machine - away. It veered from side to side, tilting sharply enough to make me panic - again - before it levelled out. I had never felt so helpless, even though I was in control. Something slammed into the framework, hard enough to send us spinning through the air ... but what? I hadn't the slightest idea how to control the flying machine.

  Keep moving, I told myself.

  I peered down, trying to navigate. There was just enough light left for me to pick out the shape of the coastline, a shape I’d seen on countless maps. We could fly directly to Shallot, if we dared cross the Sea of Death. I didn't. There was so much wild magic near the remains of the Eternal City that we might fall out of the sky and plummet to our deaths. I’d have to steer us along the coastline and hope for the best.

  We should cross the border soon, I thought. And then we can land and wait for sunrise before proceeding.

  The flying machine buckled violently as I drove it onwards, as if it was intent on fighting me all the way. I gritted my teeth, wondering if a real magician would be able to control the flying machine properly. It felt as if we were being forced back, as if we were trying to move forwards and backwards at the same time. The air was choppy, flickers of light dancing through the looming clouds. I hoped we wouldn't be struck by lightning. The flying machine was unlikely to take it well. We certainly wouldn’t.

  I glanced back. Rose and Akin were both clinging on for dear life, their faces green ... I cursed myself, a second later, as the flying machine lurched out of control and plummeted towards the ground. I’d lost control ... I fought to recover it as the ground came closer and closer, barely saving us from slamming into the earth at an impossible speed. I wondered if I should fly lower as I resumed my course, but it seemed pointless. If we hit the ground at this speed there wouldn't be enough left of us for our families to bury.

  Akin laughed. “Cat, this is magnificent!”

  I didn't risk glancing back, not again. “Thanks,” I shouted. When we got home, I was going to build Magister Tallyman a flying machine of his very own. If he hadn't shown me the design, I doubted I would have been able to build one in time. “I just need to learn how to fly!”

  The framework shook again, heeling over as a gust of wind threatened to blow us in the wrong direction. I concentrated, trying to feel the power as it interacted with the air. Something was wrong, but what? I kicked myself a second later, muttering a word that Mum would have washed my mouth out with soap merely for thinking. I’d overlooked the obvious. The power surrounding us wasn't shaped properly, not for flying. We needed an arrow, something that could push through the air. Instead, we had a bubble ...

  And the wind is kicking us around like a football, I though
t, grimly. And every time we try to recover, we only make matters worse.

  I kicked myself - again - for overlooking the obvious. I’d planned to leave at night. It hadn't occurred to me - and it should have - that navigating in the darkness was pretty much impossible. There was a faint haze to the south, where the remains of the Eternal City lay, but ... there were no other lights, not even to the north. I wasn’t sure that we were still heading north. An angry god slapped the flying machine, sending us into yet another spin. I wasn't even sure that we were high enough to recover before we crashed.

  “I may have to land, just to realign the power!” I shouted. I didn't dare try to adjust the power in flight. If the wind blew through the framework, instead of being deflected, we’d be blown off and sent falling to our deaths. Akin and Rose might be able to save themselves, with their magic. I couldn't. “Can you see anything down there?”