The Curse (The Windore Series Book 2)

by Valya Boutenko

  Galvan followed her into the pool in his briefs. “Can you swim?” he asked.

  “Yes, I love to swim,” answered Amelliea, pushing off from the sandy bottom into a luxurious backstroke. “Nothing makes me so happy as being in water!” She easily pulled herself through the clear liquid, moving further out.

  The Prince moved deeper until the water was up to his waist. “I’m more of a land animal,” he admitted, before somewhat nervously swimming out to her.

  “Oh I see,” laughed Amelliea, “You wanted to know if I could swim for your own safety!” She splashed at him.

  “Well I figured if at least one of us could swim, then we were both less likely to die!” laughed the Prince.

  “I thought you were supposed to be good at everything?” joked Amelliea.

  “I can see why you would think that. You know, the secret is to never specify what you are not good at, that way people naturally assume you have no flaws.”

  “And what happens when they discover your flaws?” asked Amelliea.

  “By that time they’ll have taken a liking to your unwavering confidence, and hopefully will only see your many flaws as charming.”

  “Well it’s working on me,” winked Amelliea sarcastically, watching him bob about.

  “For goodness sake, I have never been teased so mercilessly in all my life!” complained the Prince. Amelliea dove under him and reappeared on his other side. “Oh alright, now you’re just showing off,” said Galvan. “I can’t even do that with two arms!”

  “Didn’t you say you swam here as a child?”

  “I said I used to come here, I never mentioned swimming!”

  “All you need to do is learn how to float,” said Amelliea. She took his hand and pulled him through the water past her, guiding him to a place where she knew he could stand. He drifted past her on his back. “You do have to kick your legs though, and move your arms a bit,” reminded Amelliea. He struggled in the water. “You’re working way too hard,” smiled Amelliea.

  Galvan grabbed on to her shoulder, “You think that’s funny, do you?”

  “No, your Royal Highness, it is not funny in the least!” she laughed, making a dash for the deep end to escape him. Galvan grabbed her around her waist, holding her back, and then picked her up in his arms. She stopped struggling. Galvan stood chest deep in the warm water, spinning Amelliea slowly around and around.

  “You’re cute when you’re wet,” he said. “You look like a river charlen, only with less teeth.”

  “What’s a river charlen?” asked Amelliea.

  “It is an adorable little creature with large brown eyes that lives in fresh water and bites people on the bum just for the fun of it.”

  “You’re joking, there’s no such thing,” said Amelliea, looking around nervously.

  “Just ask the King, he was bitten by one as a young child and even has a scar to prove it,” smiled Galvan.

  Amelliea nervously searched the water with her eyes, “You don’t think there would be any of those things around here, do you?”

  “Of course they would be here, they are all over the Gator region. They live predominantly in water filled caverns just like this one, but we wouldn’t be able to see one even if it was right below us.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Amelliea.

  “Because a charlen’s fur reflects it’s environment making it nearly invisible to the naked eye.”

  “Like a mirror?”

  “Exactly like a mirror,” nodded Galvan.

  “But why would it bite people for fun?”

  “To see them jump, and to spook fish from their hiding spots.”

  “Galvan, I suspect you are making all of this up,” she said, nestling into his shoulder. “And I am as gullible as a wallfish tonight.”

  “A what fish?”

  “Why, a wallfish. Surely you’ve heard of it? It is a spiny, armored amphibian with poisonous red spikes all along its back.”

  “Never heard of it,” grinned Galvan.

  “Well the poison is enough to stop your heart dead if the wallfish so much as brushes against you!” she said darkly, trailing a wet finger along his neck.

  “You don’t say?”

  “It’s true! And what’s worse is that there is absolutely no antidote.”

  “What I’m dying to know is why the wallfish is so dang gullible?” laughed Galvan.

  “No one knows why exactly, since no one has survived to tell the tale!”

  “That’s it, I’m getting out!” announced Galvan, pretending to believe her little story. He dropped Amelliea into the water. She screamed and went under with a splash. Galvan raced out of the pool, but before he could get far Amelliea resurfaced and grabbed him by the ankles, sending him tripping back into the water.

  They played in the pool for several hours and when they grew tired and hot, they climbed out and sat on a big flat rock without bothering to change out of their wet clothes. The rock was warm and smooth, and they lounged comfortably upon it, relaxed and happy.

  “You must be hungry,” said Galvan.

  “Actually, I’m starving,” admitted Amelliea.

  Galvan hopped off the rock and walked over to where he left his clothes. After a moment he produced several thick pieces of dry bread from his shoulder bag. He handed half of the loaves up to Amelliea before climbing up the side of the rock once more and sitting back down beside her. “Gator riders always travel with emergency food,” he explained.

  “Good to know,” smiled Amelliea.

  “You would rob an innocent gator for his food?” he said, cracking up at the thought. “Why that’s horrible!”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well that’s what you were insinuating.”

  “You know as well as I that gators are rarely innocent.” She bit down on one of the pieces of dry bread with a loud crunch, and with difficulty bit off a chunk. “Besides, I definitely wouldn’t rob a gator for his food,” she said with a laugh.

  “Oh, I see,” said the Prince pretending to take offence, “now you are implying that our food is no good, is that it?”

  “I am implying no such thing! You misinterpret all I say, and even what I don’t say!”

  “Madam, you go too far!” he said shaking his head.

  “I say!”

  “Know your place!”

  “My word!” she exclaimed, bringing her hand to her mouth.

  He leaned toward her, weak with laughter. “I can’t eat it either,” admitted Galvan, tossing the bread over his shoulder. “I don’t even know how hungry I would have to be to enjoy something so bland!”

  “Maybe you have to reconstitute it or something,” offered Amelliea.

  “Or bring some emergency seasoning,” joked Galvan.

  “Are you always this much fun to be with?” asked Amelliea. “I can’t believe my visit nears its end.” She grew suddenly serious. “One hundred days seemed like forever at first.”

  “Perhaps you can stay longer?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid that is impossible,” said Amelliea sadly.

  Galvan touched her chin to capture her gaze. “Let us not think of separation while we are still together,” he said. The Prince looked up at the fading light up above them. The storm raged on with a dull roar. “We’re going to have to sleep here tonight.”

  Amelliea nodded, and for no reason at all they broke down laughing once again.

  “What is it this time?”

  “It’s nothing, I swear!” cried Amelliea.

  “Then get over here already, I need you for warmth,” he said in a falsely commanding voice.

  “Yes my Prince,” replied Amelliea, her own voice wavering with humor.

  He held her close, and brushed his fingers through her hair. Amelliea returned his embrace. Their clothes had dried fully, and Amelliea was surprised how comfortable the warm stone actually felt beneath her tired body.

  “Don’t try anything,” whispered Amelliea, upon closing her eyes.
r />   “I’d be a dead man if I did,” replied Galvan.

  “You would be,” smiled Amelliea.

  Galvan sighed. “You’re so pretty, don’t even know what you do to me.”

  “You’re the one always torturing me with your gorgeous smile and your perfect hair,” said Amelliea.

  “You think I have a gorgeous smile?” asked the Prince.

  “Good night Galvan,” said Amelliea.

  “And perfect hair?”

  She made no reply.

  “Good night Amelliea,” whispered Galvan.

  Chapter 34

  Lady in the Fog

  Having lost all sense of direction with the mysterious disappearance of his compass, Bloom worked hard to remain collected and keep from panicking. Though he did not know how he would find his way back to Amelliea, he continued to dig up many treasures in hopes that one of them would be the map of inquisition. Some of the time he collected the treasure he uncovered, but more and more often he left it to lay in the open upon discovering that it was not the scroll he sought. Savoring Henry’s letters, Bloom left but one final unread letter to read when he grew desperate for a reason to go on. After reading all the letters, Bloom felt as though he knew Maddy, and he began to speak to her as though she were there with him.

  The wizard was walking through a bog, ankle deep in icy water. The mucky ground was covered in thick patches of green moss. He looked out ahead at a swirling cloud of white. “Is that you, Maddy?” Bloom asked. “Why do you hide from me in the mist?” There was no answer. “Maddy, are you the one who stole my compass? Without it I am lost. Please give it back!”

  He moved in what he could only assume was forward through the fog. “Maddy, no more games! I need my compass.” He stepped on the islands of moss. “You know the secrets of this place, don’t you,” Bloom whispered. “I seek the map of inquisition, but you already know that, for I am not the first nor shall I be the last to pursue it. I’ll trade you guidance to the scroll for all these letters that I’ve found. Or do you plan to take them from me when I die, for you and I both know that I shall likely perish as all the others have who came before me.”

  He walked for a while without speaking, and only the splashing of his shoes in the mud disturbed the silence and serenity of the bog. “It’s beautiful here Maddy,” sighed Bloom. “A wild perfection lives in this undisturbed and natural landscape. Though I am wet and cold, a welcome change it is to all the years of desert my weary eyes have seen.”

  He poked the end of his staff into the water before him to test the depth. The violet crystal glowed in the white haze about him. “I know that I am lost without your help, Maddy. I ask you to be reasonable! Don’t let me die in vein.” Bloom had to remind himself that he was only talking to the mist, and that the real Maddy had likely died ages ago in a far off unknown place, long before his time. Yet he strangely felt the presence of the lady in the portrait beside him in that dreary bog.

  “You are so beautiful Maddy,” sighed Bloom. “A dangerously beautiful woman. Perhaps its best that I do not see you for it is likely I would make a fool of my self, distracted by your lovely face. You do not know what power such beauty holds over us simple men.” He laughed, and then grew somber as he barreled onward, skirting a grey pool of water, for he knew it would not be long before his mind truly became unhinged.

  “Maddy, I desperately need your help! Surely you do not take pleasure in watching good men die?”

  “You are not a good man,” replied a woman’s voice from the mist, making the hairs on the back of Bloom’s neck stand on end.

  “Maddy?” cried Bloom, stumbling forward and falling knee-deep into the pool, his pants and boots becoming finally soaked all the way through to the last thread. “Maddy, don’t toy with me! I am a tortured man as is.”

  There was no reply.

  “I must find that scroll! Tell me where it is!”

  Silence was the only answer. Bloom wondered vaguely if he had imagined the voice. There was no proof that it had been real, and no one to ask. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Perhaps the voice was merely a hallucination.

  “You leave me no choice, Maddy,” said Bloom. He took out the last unread letter from his breast pocket and held it out before him. “In all your years of haunting these damp and endless mountains, Maddy, you have never found the real treasure that they held for you! I happened upon it by accident. A tin of letters from your long lost love! I alone know what these letters contain.” He shook the folded parchment in his outstretched hand. “This one is the last. Even I have not read the words written here and if you do not show yourself to me, and lead me to the Map of Inquisition, then I shall burn it and what is written within shall die with me!”

  The silence ringing about him, Bloom pulled the flint from his belt and struck a spark against the old parchment. It took right away, and Bloom watched the flames burn the edge of the old letter, slowly at first with lots of smoke, and then faster and brighter. Overcome with sadness for Henry and his lost love, and viewing this as a memorial for the two lovers who died long ago, Bloom blew gently on the orange flames and they divided, multiplying as they slowly inched up the side of the unread letter.

  “NOOOOO!” came a woman’s scream from the depths of the fog.

  A section of the mist broke away from the rest and moved rapidly toward Bloom, taking the shape of a ghostly woman. Her lovely face was contorted in agony. Bloom extinguished the flames against the damp fabric of his cloak. The parchment smoldered in his hand. “How dare you!” cried the woman angrily, her boots barely touching the ground. “You are no better than the others!” She wore a fitted corset over a flowing pale blue dress. A long dagger hung from her waist belt, and a gleaming white stone floated weightlessly around her neck on an ethereal chain. Her whole figure gave off a soft, luminous light. Bloom inhaled her heady perfume. It smelled of lilacs.

  “Maddy?” asked Bloom. “Is it you?” He recognized her instantly from the portrait.

  The beautiful woman made no reply. She only swirled furiously around him, and then disappeared with a pop.

  “Come back!” called Bloom. “Or I’ll light it again!”

  She instantly reappeared, this time on his other side. The woman stared him down in anger.

  “Who are you?” asked Bloom.

  “I’m no one,” she snapped. “What do you want with me?”

  “You were luring me to my death, were you not?” he asked.

  The woman cast him a coy glance. “Perhaps…”

  “I want to leave this place alive,” continued Bloom, “and I require the Map of Inquisition.”

  “What makes you think I have it, or that if I did I would give it to you?” she asked.

  “Because you wear the dress of a pirate,” answered Bloom, taking in how Maddy was clothed.

  “What of it? I wear what I had on before I died,” she replied, moving so that her skirt swished slowly this way and that, swirling up in blue, transparent ruffles.

  “You are a piratess!” said Bloom. “And I know your name is Maddy, for I recognize you from your portrait, and have read your name in these here letters!” he held up the partially burnt letter in his hand. “Then you must be none other than the famous Miss Maddy Alamore, of the Great Sands Desert! The one who stole the Map of Inquisition from Delominar the Great!”

  “It is true, I am she,” admitted the ghost, flattered to be recognized. She preformed a slight curtsy while hovering several feet in the air.

  “You are a murderer,” said Bloom in dismay, “I am familiar with your bloody history.”

  “It was all in the name of love, I assure you,” sighed Maddy, taking on a seductive tone. “After I lost my Henry, I became a different woman, and I was betrothed to a different man…” she trailed off bitterly.

  “The man you were betrothed to, he was the first one that you killed,” said Bloom.

  “But not the last,” smiled Maddy, trailing a ghostly finger across the wizard’s chest. “Though I di
d love another man, in time,” she sighed. “A handsome man much like yourself, he too betrayed me in the end.”

  “But not as you loved Henry,” said Bloom, tucking the letter into his pocket. “For he is the reason you haunt this place still, is it not?”

  Maddy changed in her demeanor at once. “How dare you speak his name!” she screamed. “You are unworthy even of his memory!”

  “You must have thought that Henry had abandoned you, forsaking your sincere and earnest love,” persisted Bloom. “But you were wrong. I know it from the letters! How different your life would have been had you but known the truth! Your thirst to know what kept him from returning has driven you insane, and here you are in death still seeking answers. I have them here,” said Bloom, patting his pocket, “and I alone can grant you what you crave, for you are immaterial and cannot touch the solid world, not even to unfold a letter.”

  “How wrong you are! I need but steal a little of your life force, and I could snatch those letters from you here and now.”

  “Ah, but you cannot steal my life force, can you?” asked Bloom. “For it must be willingly given!”

  “I have my ways of getting what I want,” said Maddy, looking over her shoulder at the swirling mist, and touching the white, translucent stone glowing on her necklace.

  “I do not doubt your cleverness, I only offer you a beneficial trade.”

  “What do you want?” asked Maddy dangerously.

  “A deal,” said Bloom.

  “I don’t make deals with the likes of you!” cried Maddy.

  “All I ask is that you take me to the map and grant me safe passage home, and in return I shall read you every one of Henry’s letters.”

  “And if I should refuse?” she asked.

  “Then I will burn them one by one, right here and now,” said Bloom taking out his flint.

  “No deal!” screamed Maddy Alamore, disappearing once more with a pop.

  Bloom reached into his pack and pulled out a letter at random. It was one that he had read several times before. “My beloved Maddy,” he began to read aloud, and the ghost lady reappeared and drew near, looking over his shoulder at the parchment in his hand. Bloom felt a harsh coldness emanating from her as she floated behind him. “I wander in a blind despair, disheartened and alone,” he read. “Would that you were here to sooth the rapid beating of my heart. It seems that I have brought this fate upon myself and you are not to blame. Fool that I was to blindly ignore reason! I never should have let you go, my darling bride to be, yet how could I have known how sad this road would end? I should have held you in my arms as though you were a raft and I, a drowning sailor. Why is it that a man does always want more than he hath at present? I’ve lost you, Maddy, done traded your warmth and laughter for a blizzard of snow, a sky full of rain, and a mountain of empty mist...” Bloom paused. Maddy Alamore stared at him with large, tearful eyes, her ghostly lips trembling. “Do you want to hear more?” asked Bloom, folding away the unfinished letter. “Take me to the scroll, and I’ll read you the rest.”