Cursebreaker

by Carol A Park

  He had to tell her. He had to. They’d been speaking of marriage, unofficially, for months. She would say yes. Waiting until she found out in some accident was not an option. Yet if he told her, there was more at stake than their own relationship. What if she turned him in? The Ichtaca could most likely protect him now, but if it became public, he might lose his position. They’d be forced to let him go, right? Yet if he didn’t ask today, her father would wonder why. For that matter, her own great-grandmother would wonder why. She had been the one who’d insisted she share the attention on this day.

  Unsavory political opinions aside, they were genuinely nice people.

  As long as one wasn’t a Banebringer.

  “So quiet,” Tania said softly. “What are you thinking over there, my little analyzer?”

  He swallowed. “Oh, I don’t know…” he said evasively.

  She pulled him a little closer, removing her hand from his and instead sliding his arm around her waist to rest on the bare flesh there, and then she snugged herself against his side.

  Would she be sighing in such contentment if she knew his hands contained blood that would turn silver?

  And even if she could somehow stomach it—what of her family?

  “Mmm,” she said. “You’re lying.”

  He couldn’t tell her yet. But how could he ask her for her hand if she didn’t know? That seemed unfair. Even if… Even if she was content with his being a Banebringer, she had to know what she was getting herself into. What might happen to him, if he were caught. Especially if he were caught outside Marakyn. What might happen to her.

  “Your uncle was making jokes about drowning Banebringers again this morning,” he said. “While I was helping him bring food up.”

  She laughed lightly. “Oh, Driskell. This again?” She pulled away and stopped walking so that they could face one another. “I wish I knew why this bothers you so.”

  “It bothers me because—” His breath caught in his throat. “Because people talk that way. We all do; we all have at some point. And yet, at any sky-fire, any one of us could be changed. Your father could be. Would he still talk that way? Why is there such animosity over something that seems so…random?”

  The smile slipped off Tania’s lips. She studied his face with those beautiful soft brown eyes, the eyes that would crinkle at the sides just so, the eyes that had looked at him shyly—and mischievously—under lowered eyelashes that first day of class and had made him fall in love with her.

  “The priests say it isn’t random,” she said quietly. “That only those with wickedness in their hearts would be chosen.”

  “That’s what the priests say,” Driskell said in a lowered voice, “but those same priests are the ones who staged a coup in Weylyn City. Who, by some reports, were using the Banebringers’ own magic. How can we trust what they say?”

  Tania looked down and then around quickly. “I-I don’t necessarily disagree with you. But you can’t deny that Banebringers are still dangerous.”

  Driskell looked past her shoulder, into the bushes behind them. “Aren’t we all, in some way?” he said quietly.

  Tania put a hand on his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. “Driskell. What’s this about?”

  He bit his lip. “I-I just—I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. First the Conclave coup. And then for a while we had a Xambrian ambassador, and, Tania, he didn’t seem so bad—and your family keeps harping on it. It’s as though they need to have someone to hate, for the sake of it. Can’t we just give everyone a chance? As individuals?”

  She ran a finger down his cheek and across his jaw and then drew him into an embrace and buried her face in his neck. She didn’t say anything else for a long time.

  Normally, he would have appreciated that. But now, he was keenly aware of the minutes ticking closer to the start of the party. Even now, he could hear voices. He was supposed to have already asked her by now. Gods…

  “Who do you know that was changed this sky-fire?” Tania asked at last, breath tickling his neck.

  His stomach dropped out from him. Why did she have to be so perceptive? There was no point in denying that something of the sort had happened. He turned his head to put his face in her hair. “I can’t tell you that. I…I just can’t.” He bit his lip. “And it kills me that I can’t,” he whispered.

  She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. “Driskell, I love you. And I understand.”

  He blinked. “You…You do?”

  “Yes. And…I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be put in the position of having to decide what to do. I don’t want to put you in the position of breaching a confidence. If at some point, I find out… We’ll figure it out then. Just don’t say anything to my relatives, okay?”

  He gave a shaky laugh. “As if I would.” He studied her. “Do you hate Banebringers as much as they do?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know what to think or what to believe. But I do agree that…well, their talk makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it, either. Is… Is that enough?”

  He pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and those sincere, sweet eyes completely undid him. “Will you be my wife, Tania?” he asked.

  Her lips curled into a smile. “Finally,” she said.

  “Is that a yes?”

  She laughed. “Driskell, don’t be an idiot.” And then she kissed him.

  His heart thudded wildly, at the press of her lips and at the fear coiled in his gut.

  She might accept him. But would she ever forgive him?

  Vaughn turned the corner of the long row of hedges, Danton and Ivana behind him, and drew up short.

  Driskell and his lady friend were embracing ahead.

  He cleared his throat. “My, what a lovely day,” he said loudly.

  Driskell pulled back, a flush creeping up his neck. “Oh,” he said. “Uh…hello. Tania, these are—”

  “Your new friends,” she said, smiling. She curtsied. “I remember you told me you invited them. I’m so glad you could make it. The party is this way.”

  She moved farther down the row of hedges, and they all followed her.

  Danton caught Driskell’s arm and pulled him back. “Well?” he whispered.

  Driskell flashed him a smile and nodded.

  Danton slapped his back and they disappeared around another corner of the maze, leaving Vaughn and Ivana alone.

  She slowed her steps. “Why did I let you and Danton talk me into this?” she asked. “Danton is Driskell’s new friend. He only invited us because we were there, and I’m sure he thought it would be rude not to.”

  Vaughn shrugged. “So? Thrax is right. Free food and drink, dancing… Why in the abyss would you pass up an opportunity to party?”

  She frowned. “I can think of many reasons.”

  “Come now. I’ve seen you appear to be the perfect socialite before.”

  She flashed him a wry look. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  He grinned. “So you’re saying the real Ivana is a dour-faced fun-hater who wouldn’t know a party if it hit her over the head?”

  Her frown deepened. “I…can have…fun.” She didn’t sound sure of that.

  “What a resounding affirmation,” he said drily. “Can you really?” On a whim, he grabbed her hand and twirled her around, and then pulled her close. Before she could inevitably push him away, he dipped her backward. “Are you diverted yet?”

  “Put me down!”

  He dropped her gently to the grass.

  She scowled at him, stood up, and brushed herself off.

  “You’re not making your case very well,” he said, wagging his finger at her.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “My idea of entertainment is not an afternoon making inane conversation with people I don’t know.”

  That didn’t surprise him. “Fair enough,” he said. “Then what is your idea of entertainment? Name it, and we can do that instead.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and then op
ened it again.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m waiting.”

  Danton appeared in the hedges. “Hey, you two. Are you coming? Party’s getting started.” He gave them a meaningful look—except Vaughn had no idea what the meaning was supposed to be.

  The rapid change on Ivana’s face was incredible. “Of course,” she said, smiling. “We’ll be right there.”

  So she could still act if she wanted to. Apparently, she just didn’t care around Vaughn. He supposed that was a good thing?

  He nudged her in the ribs and leaned over to speak in her ear. “You’re saved for now. But I’m still waiting for a good answer.”

  She glared at him.

  He gave her a charming smile and offered his arm.

  She spurned it and marched ahead.

  By the time Vaughn and Ivana had slipped into the back of the clearing where the food tables were set up, most of the guests had arrived—including Thrax—and were gathered together, facing a sharply-dressed middle-aged Donian gentleman standing with a very old Donian woman. Her back was bowed, her dark brown Donian skin lightened and spotted with age, and she clutched a cane with thin, bony hands, but her sparkling eyes told Vaughn she still had her wits.

  The man held a rope in his hand, and he gestured toward Driskell and Tania.

  Tania looked confused as Driskell pulled her to the front.

  The man nodded at the old woman. “You all have gathered here for my grandmother’s one hundredth birthday.” The crowd cheered with abandon, and the man waited until the noise had died down before continuing. “What few of you know is that what you have in fact gathered for is also…” He moved to stand behind Driskell and Tania and suddenly looped the rope over the two and pulled it tight. “A celebration of my daughter’s pending marriage to Driskell!”

  Vaughn guffawed. He glanced at Danton, who was beaming at his new friend. Obviously, Danton had already been in the know.

  Tania’s mouth dropped open, and then she grinned and swatted playfully at Driskell. “You oaf,” she said. “I can’t believe you. What if I had turned you down?”

  He grinned stupidly.

  “Then it would have been just my birthday celebration,” the old woman said, a crooked smile on her gnarled face.

  “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chanted the guests.

  Tania unwound herself from the rope and leaned over to give the old woman a kiss on the cheek. “Grandmama,” she said. “You’re a dear.”

  The guests laughed and booed, and many took up the chant again while others broke off to find more food and drink.

  “Burning skies,” Ivana muttered when Tania and Driskell obliged the remaining crowd. “I need a drink.”

  Her oddly out-of-place disgust amused him. “You know it won’t do anything, right?” he whispered.

  She groaned and instead filled an empty plate from one of the many platters set up on small round tables around the clearing. “Then I need to stuff myself until I burst and put myself out of this misery.”

  Music started up nearby. Thrax waved to them and joined the impromptu dancing.

  Vaughn shook his head. He hoped Thrax didn’t get too excited, forget himself, and start juggling fireballs. “What’s wrong? Not one for a little romance?”

  She turned murderous eyes on him, but before she could retort, Danton bounded toward them, a goofy grin on his face. “She had no idea!” he proclaimed. “Everyone knew. Her parents, her grandmama—everyone was in on it!” He inclined his head, as if in response to some imagined objection. “Well, not everyone, of course.”

  “Poor Driskell,” Vaughn said. “It would have been pretty embarrassing had she turned him down.”

  Danton waved his hand. “Eh, she wasn’t going to turn him down. They’ve been talking about marriage for months.”

  Vaughn raised an eyebrow. “You sure know a lot about our new friend.”

  Danton shrugged, seeming uncomfortable. “You know. We have a lot in common. We kinda hit it off.” He leaned in toward them conspiratorially. “Did I tell you I tried out that instant transportation thing?” he whispered. “I can actually do it.”

  Vaughn raised an eyebrow, partially at the obvious change of subject, and partially because he was surprised Danton had figured it out so quickly. “Really? How far?”

  “All I’ve done is a few feet. More than that, I pass out. But I think if I keep practicing, I could go farther.” He flushed. “On the negative side, I’m certain I don’t have time to be of any use to, uh, the thing you suggested it for, but…”

  Vaughn glanced at Ivana to see her reaction, but she wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. Instead, she was watching Driskell and Tania, who had begun a dance and drinking game with some of the guests. As he watched, Driskell downed a glass and set it aside so his hands were free for his bride-to-be.

  “Boy has quite the constitution,” Ivana commented softly. “That’s the third glass he’s had in the past ten minutes, and he seems none the worse for wear.”

  “Wha…?” Danton said, looking confused. Then his eyes widened. “Excuse me,” he muttered, then threaded his way through the crowd toward Driskell.

  “No,” Vaughn said. It couldn’t be. Driskell would have said something, wouldn’t he have? What with the Ichtaca under Donian protection now…surely…

  Ivana shrugged. “Just making an observation.”

  Uproarious laughter sounded from nearby, and the tail end of a conversation drifted to their ears—and everyone else in the clearing.

  “Then I said, why not take all the demonspawn out on a boat and toss them overboard?”

  Someone slapped the speaker on the back. “Always thinking, Pop.”

  Vaughn turned away, clenching the drink he had plucked off a tray in his hand. Now he remembered why he hated social occasions ever since becoming a Banebringer. Suddenly, the joyous occasion seemed too loud, too bright, too happy, too full of people who would never have to know the fear he constantly lived in.

  It’d been such a long time since he’d done anything like this, and he had been feeling so unusually unhated in Marakyn, among normal people. But then again, they had mostly been allies.

  And he was going to put himself forward as the Ri of Ferehar? It was insane. Even if they succeeded to that point, the people would never accept him—no matter how many orphanages he opened or setans he poured into the region.

  Driskell had heard the statement too. The smile slipped off his face. Just for an instant before he plastered it back on again. It was enough for Vaughn to confirm the guess.

  Tania glanced at Driskell and then frowned in the direction of her father.

  Did she know? And she’d still agreed to marry him?

  The festivities continued unhindered by the careless statement, but Vaughn no longer felt like celebrating.

  Someone took up the chant again until there was a critical mass. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

  Tania laughed, kissed a flushed Driskell again, and then called out to the crowd. “The next time you do that, we’re picking two of you at random to kiss instead!”

  They cheered. Apparently, the threat had fallen on deaf ears.

  “What’s wrong?” Ivana whispered in his ear. “Not one for a little romance?”

  “Some people seem to have all the luck,” he said, his eyes still on the almost disgustingly sweet couple.

  Her reply was laced with amusement. “Luck? Because you’ve been dutifully cultivating commitment all these years?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, his throat tight. He turned toward her. “Perhaps I never mentioned how my former fiancée turned on me?”

  The tiny quirk that had lifted one corner of her mouth faded. “You might have mentioned it,” she said.

  She met his eyes and held them. He took a deep breath. “Are you enjoying this?” he asked.

  “It’s one of the most miserable things I’ve had to endure all month,” she said, plastering a smile on her face that belied her words. “And th
at’s saying something.”

  He jerked his head toward the exit. “I don’t think anyone will notice if we slip out.”

  They had almost made it to one of the entrances back into the hedge maze when the crowd took up its chant again.

  Then, above the noise, he distinctly heard Danton’s voice. “Those two!”

  Vaughn turned, startled. What in the—? he started to mouth at Danton until he noticed that everyone had looked where Danton was pointing.

  Everyone cheered. Driskell looked apologetic. Danton was grinning from ear to ear.

  Burning skies, kid can’t even get drunk, and he’s still acting stupid, Vaughn thought. Ivana was going to kill Danton. Possibly him as well, even though it wasn’t his fault.

  “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

  He rolled his eyes and turned toward Ivana. He didn’t expect her to be at all inclined to give in to the peer pressure, which was why he was shocked when, instead of another murderous glare, he found her lips on his.

  He stumbled backward a bit, but then he caught her against himself and dutifully, he felt, kissed her back.

  The crowd cheered again, obviously pleased at his apparent shock and recovery.

  Her lips curled in a smile against his own, and only then did he realize what she was doing. He obliged her, and together, they gave the crowd quite the show—so much so that the cheering died down and someone coughed uncomfortably. Only then, did she pull back and bow. He saluted the crowd and pulled her out of the clearing.

  Once they were out of sight and hearing, Ivana collapsed against one of the hedges in a fit of laughter. She was losing it. It was as though she could feel her sanity slipping away beneath her fingers.

  “I take it back,” Vaughn said. “You entertain yourself by making crowds of slightly inebriated people uncomfortable. A bit of an odd pastime, but, you know, whatever works for you.”

  “Idiots,” she said savagely. “Serves them right.”

  “Hey,” he said, “seems I’m the victim here. Could have warned me.”

  She snorted and raised an eyebrow at him. “As if you minded.”