Cursebreaker

by Carol A Park

  “Do any of us seem like bad people?” Danton asked.

  She looked at each one of them in turn, then shook her head silently and turned back to Driskell.

  Vaughn didn’t know if that was an answer to Danton’s question or a denial of the truth.

  There was a knock at the door, and then it immediately opened.

  Ivana stepped inside. “I thought I would…” She halted when she saw Tania. “Where did she come from?” she asked quietly.

  Vaughn jerked his head toward Danton. “Danton brought her here.”

  Ivana’s mouth dropped open. “I thought he couldn’t do that?”

  “Apparently, he’s been practicing. Damn near killed himself doing it, though.”

  Ivana didn’t move any farther into the room. She just crossed her arms over her chest and watched. “She didn’t know he was a Banebringer,” she observed after a moment.

  “No.”

  “She doesn’t appear to care.”

  It took Vaughn a moment to answer. “It does seem that way.” He could still vividly remember, on the other hand, the smirk on his own fiancée’s face and her accompanying words: “You thought I loved you?”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets. No. No, she never had.

  He glanced at Ivana, and there was a frown on her face as she stared at Driskell and Tania. No, not Driskell and Tania. Just Driskell. “Ivana?”

  There was something…odd about Driskell. She couldn’t see it. But the moment she had focused on just him, she could feel it.

  A wrongness hung about him like a tattered cloak. Was that something Banebringers could feel? She hadn’t seen someone who had been Sedated since she herself had been changed. She glanced at Vaughn. “Do you sense that too?”

  “Sense what?”

  “He just doesn’t seem right.”

  Vaughn gave her a funny look.

  All right. So it was just her.

  Almost without thinking, she moved closer to him. The sense of wrongness grew. She put a hand to his forehead, and as a test, she burned a bit of her own aether—not to stop time, but just generally.

  She jerked her hand back almost immediately. His body was alight.

  No, not alight. She still couldn’t see anything, not with her eyes. But when she touched him and burned aether…

  She tentatively put a hand back out to touch his head.

  Yes. She could see it, just not with her eyes. Every vein, every artery burned with conflict. She could feel the enmity between the types of aether, she could feel the triumph of the foreign aether, the hopelessness of the native.

  She poked at a blob of foreign aether with her mind, willing it to retreat.

  It jerked back as if burned but didn’t do as she ordered. So she poked again, this time infusing her touch with more aether—and snapping whatever invisible hold it had on the native aether.

  And it worked. The native aether twitched.

  So she did it again, to another aether-bug, and then a few more, and then a dozen, and as she sifted, she became faster, until she was running every drop of blood in his body through her touch, freeing the native aether, breaking the foreign.

  The foreign drew back, subdued. His bodily systems working again. Cleaning the blood. Absorbing the foreign contaminants. Creating new charmblood aether. Until there was nothing left but what ought to be there—for a Banebringer.

  A gasp jerked her from her trance—and she realized she had closed her eyes, because now she opened them…and found Driskell staring up at her, confusion on his face.

  She dropped her hand and backed up, past Tania, past Danton, past Vaughn and all the way to the door.

  Driskell sat up.

  “My gods…” Thrax said, his eyes wide, while Danton gaped soundlessly first at Ivana, then at Driskell.

  “Driskell?” Tania cried.

  He rubbed his temple. “How did you get here?” He looked around. “And…where is here anyway? What happened?” His brow furrowed. “I thought for sure—”

  “Driskell!” Tania threw her arms around him. “Oh gods… They said… I thought… I don’t even care.”

  He returned her embrace, but he was still obviously confused.

  “Wh-What did you do?” Vaughn asked, his own eyes wide.

  What Ivana had done was monumental. Unheard of. Impossible. “I just…broke the hold the foreign aether had over the native. It was easy, once I got the hang of it.”

  “You reversed Sedation. That’s not… That’s not possible.”

  Ivana looked pointedly at Driskell, who was holding Tania’s hands and talking. “And yet.”

  “Temoth, Ivana. Do you know what this means?”

  “I can think of many implications. But can we hold off on breaking into Weylyn City and—”

  “No, no, not that. I mean, maybe, eventually. But no. What I meant was—you broke the curse. You made it so there was no curse in his body. You did what Zily couldn’t do because he himself is subject to his own curse. But you’re not, are you? You can do what he could do but is restrained from doing himself? He told us that—he told us that, didn’t he?”

  Ivana stared at him, stunned. That sort of made sense.

  “This could be bigger than being able to bring back Sedated Banebringers. This could be…so much bigger. What else can you do with that aether?”

  Danton and Thrax’s eyes were also on her; they didn’t understand what Vaughn was talking about—Ivana barely understood Zily’s cryptic instructions herself—but they knew she had just done the impossible.

  She almost excused herself, uncomfortable under their scrutiny, when there was a knock on the door again.

  Askata’s new steward, Dal Calpix, cracked the door and poked his head in. “The final tally is in,” he said, his face deadpan.

  The room stilled. Everyone looked at the steward. Vaughn’s stomach was in knots.

  Once news of their defeat of the Conclave force had spread—once it was safe—once everyone realized what had happened—once the rumors had taken hold…

  The representatives had asked Askata to go on with the election, despite the chaos, even though Airell had disappeared and had not shown himself again. Most of them just wanted it to be over.

  Today, the votes had been cast; they had just been waiting to hear the results.

  Calpix slid into the room, Askata on his heels, and closed the door behind them.

  Calpix’s somber expression cracked. “You won. It was close. Seventy-two to sixty-nine.” He hesitated, then bowed. “Your Excellency.”

  Vaughn stared at him. He’d…won?

  Thrax whistled. “They elected a Gifted to be Ri. I’m shocked. Pleasantly shocked, but shocked all the same.”

  Askata nodded at Thrax. “It seems your performance in saving Cohoxta from the Conclave sealed it. After that, any representatives who had been on the fence went to your side.”

  Calpix turned to Vaughn. “Your Excellency, if you’re open to advice, you might wish to speak to the representatives before they go back to their respective homes.”

  Vaughn put his hand against the wall. Your Excellency. This had all been theory until now.

  “Oh, no,” Thrax said. “And you haven’t had time to find a speechwriter yet. This could be the beginning of the end.”

  “Your Excellency?” Calpix queried again. “Your first orders?”

  Ugh. Ugh. “They know what I plan to do, don’t they?”

  “Obviously, there has been no official statement.”

  “They aren’t fools, Teyrnon,” Askata put in. “And what you said to the enemy commander has been repeated and spread until the entire city knows it verbatim. They may well be hoping for it.”

  Vaughn sighed. “I’ll address them in the morning. But before I do that, there’s something more important I need you to do for me, Dal Calpix.”

  Calpix straightened up. “Of course, Your Excellency.”

  “First, stop calling me that,” Vaughn said. The steward’s eyebrows knit tog
ether in disapproval, but he said nothing. “Second, bring me a stationery set and the Fereharian seal. Third, find me some sort of example in the archives of an official declaration, statement, or some such, on the part of the Ri. I just need a template to work with.”

  “Your Excellency,” the steward said, a defiant lift to his chin. He bowed, then left.

  Askata inclined her head to Vaughn. “Congratulations,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help at present?”

  “Find out which of the Gan voted for me.”

  She inclined her head again, approval in her eyes, and then followed Calpix out the door.

  Vaughn cast his eyes around the room. Everyone was looking at him. Even Ivana, who looked faintly amused.

  “Danton, I feel as though news like this deserves to be relayed in person. Do you feel up to zapping yourself back and letting Ri Tanuac and Yaotel know what’s happening?”

  Danton saluted. “At your service.” He smirked. “Your Excellency.”

  “You’d better disappear now, before I smack y—”

  Danton flashed out of sight before Vaughn could finish.

  Vaughn exhaled and rubbed his temples. He glanced at Driskell and Tania, who were sitting close together on the bed, their hands clasped together. “When Danton gets back, do you want me to see if he thinks he can take you back?” he asked Tania.

  She pulled Driskell’s hand into her lap. “No. I’m never leaving him again.”

  “O-Okay. Well, you’re welcome to stay here with Driskell as long as both of you plan to be here. For now, why don’t we leave you two alone.”

  Vaughn stood up and jerked his head at Thrax. He didn’t bother with Ivana. She was already headed to the door.

  When the door had closed behind all three of them, Thrax gave a mock bow. “Your Excellency,” he said. Then he stuck out his tongue at Vaughn and strolled down the hall.

  “Real mature, Thrax,” Vaughn called after him.

  That left him with Ivana.

  He cleared his throat. “Let’s find some time this week to discuss this…thing you did to Driskell,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Okay. Just let me know.”

  He watched as she walked away. Something ached within him, watching her go, and it wasn’t his loins.

  There had to be a way to salvage that situation. There was a completely reasonable unspoken agreement hanging between them that what had happened between them was over. Whatever intentions either of them may have had beyond that night…

  Well, she had betrayed his trust, after all. And he had locked her up. Was there really any going back from that? Yet he felt as though he’d lost so much more than a potential lover.

  He’d lost the only person who had ever seen him.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Choices

  Driskell sat with Tania on a bench on his room’s balcony that night, the remnants of their light dinner on a silver serving platter.

  Tania had scooted close to him the moment he’d set the platter on the ground, and she now leaned against him, his arm around her shoulder.

  It was a beautiful view. The sun was setting in brilliant splashes of reds and oranges to the west, and since his room faced north, he couldn’t see most of the destruction of the city.

  Danton and Thrax had told him his stunt with the soldiers had likely saved Cohoxta from burning down; and that it had certainly allowed Vaughn, Ivana, and Thrax to successfully defend the palace against the rogue bloodbane without having to worry about the enemy sneaking in behind their backs.

  He still marveled that it had worked. Danton had said it was probably because he’d been preparing the soldiers beforehand, continuing to feed them distrust and anxiety until they were easily manipulated at the end.

  Manipulated. He still didn’t like that word. “You really don’t care?” he asked Tania for the dozenth time that day.

  She laughed lightly and nudged him with her body. “Driskell. How many times do I have to tell you no, I don’t before you believe me?”

  “Would you have felt that way if I had told you when it had happened, instead finding out when faced with the prospect of losing me?”

  She was quiet for a long while. “I think,” she said at last, “that it might have taken me longer to process.” She pulled away from him, faced him, and took his hands. “But, Driskell, I love you. Your-Your…change hasn’t made me question my love for you. It just makes me question everything I thought I knew about Banebringers.”

  He bit his lip. “They prefer to be called ‘Gifted.’ Just…so you know.”

  She furrowed her brow but nodded.

  He searched her eyes. “I was so worried.”

  She put her forehead to his and said nothing more.

  A light tapping at the balcony door made Driskell turn.

  Danton was standing at the open door to the balcony. He held out a qixli to Driskell once he had his attention. It was already glowing. “Sorry to bother you, but Ri Tanuac wants to speak with you.”

  Driskell took the qixli tentatively. “What do I do?” He’d never used one himself before.

  “Hold it in one or both hands,” Danton said, “and burn the aether in it. It kinda takes care of the rest.”

  “Thanks.” He did as Danton instructed, and a moment later, the glowing stopped and a tinny version of Tanuac’s voice came through the device.

  “Driskell?” the voice said.

  “Um, hello, Your Excellency?”

  “It works. It works,” the voice said, almost as if talking to someone else.

  Driskell glanced at Danton.

  “Yaotel had him make his own,” Danton whispered. “I think this is the first time he’s used it.”

  Ah. That would explain it.

  “Driskell,” Tanuac said. “To say I’m relieved to hear your voice would be an understatement. We had all assumed the worst when you disappeared.”

  “I’m so sorry, Your Excellency.”

  “Sorry? Good gods, son, don’t be sorry. I’ve already been briefed on everything that happened, and—Well. We can talk when you get back. I just wanted to let you know that, as soon as you think you’re ready for the trip, I could use you back in Marakyn. I’ve got Ambassador Mezzo already hovering at my door, an army to get rid of, and there will be meetings—”

  “Your Excellency,” Driskell said, interrupting. “I understand. I think Dal, er, Ri Vaughn is going to make a speech tomorrow, and then I’ll be ready.” He glanced at Danton. He wondered if Danton could take them back.

  “Is he going by ‘Vaughn’? I’m told his birth name is Teyrnon.”

  “Um…I don’t know, Your Excellency. But I can find out,” Driskell said.

  “Can you also let him know we’re formalizing the alliance tomorrow morning?” Tanuac asked. “And that I’ll be contacting him personally sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “Very good, Driskell. And…” Tanuac paused. “We’ll be glad to have you back.”

  Ivana stopped by the wing of the palace that had been turned into a medical ward for the injured, as she had every evening for four days.

  Sanca gave Ivana a broad smile as she entered the large hall at the top of the stairs, which Sanca had set up as her “office.” “She’s awake,” she said.

  Ivana let out a slow breath. Thank the gods. “Can I see her?”

  “You have fifteen minutes,” Sanca said. “She needs to rest.”

  Ivana rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  Sanca ushered her down the hall and into one of the private rooms, and then she left, closing the door behind her.

  Ivana walked over to the bed where Aleena lay. She was partially propped up on pillows but not quite sitting.

  She smiled at Ivana as she pulled over a chair to sit next to the bed. “My second visitor today,” she said.

  Ivana raised her eyebrow. “Second?”

  Aleena nodded. “I’m told Vaughn stopped by earlier to see how I was doing, but
I wasn’t awake yet. I’ve also been told you’ve stopped by every day.”

  Ivana studied her face; color had returned to it, but there was still strain in her smile.

  “They say I’ll live,” Aleena said gently. “So you can stop worrying.”

  Worrying. That was what she had been doing, hadn’t it been? She cleared her throat. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  Aleena snorted. “Ever the expert in understatement, aren’t you?”

  Ivana laced her hands together. “Thank you,” she said.

  Aleena tilted her head. “For what?”

  “For risking your life to help with this whole mess. It’s even less your fight than mine, and I’m sure Vaughn is appreciative of your support.”

  Aleena started shaking her head before Ivana had even finished. “Look, I like Vaughn and all, but I didn’t do it for him, or the Ichtaca, or any other reason than that you said to me, ‘Aleena, we have people to save.’”

  Ivana interrupted. “I didn’t say that.”

  Aleena ignored her. “Don’t you know by now I’d do anything for you?”

  Ivana gave a little laugh. “What? Why?” She was hardly worthy of such devotion.

  “Because you saved my life.”

  Ivana snorted. “You were pretty beat up, but you would have lived. I just helped you recover faster.”

  “No. No, I wouldn’t have. Sure, maybe I could have eked out another day, another week, another month, but my life was over. I’d already decided that. Until you found me. Until you found me, and you saw me.”

  Aleena held Ivana’s eyes long enough that Ivana became uncomfortable and looked away with a shrug.

  “I can never repay you for that,” Aleena added softly.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ivana said, looking back over. “You don’t have to repay me. Whatever you may think, you owe me no debt. I was just—”

  “I know,” Aleena said, a small smile on her lips. “Doing what you do.”

  Words from long ago echoed in Ivana’s mind. Saving people. “Temoth, not that again.”