Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  “Stability,” she said, and as she said the word she knew it was true. “If mine is change, his is stability.”

  Again, it made sense that her parents’ union, somehow laced with magic, would produce such a combination. Their appearance had brought change, certainly. But by the same token, the restoration of Kyona’s ancient royal house, and the wisdom of her father’s rule, had given the kingdom stability.

  “Two sides of the same coin, indeed,” said Elddreki gravely. “And certainly neither evil in itself. A kingdom with both of those qualities would surely prosper.”

  Jocelyn didn’t respond, deep in thought. Could it be true? Was it possible her power was no more dangerous, no more harmful than Eamon’s, if understood in the right light? It was a tantalizing thought, but she brushed it aside. It didn’t tally with her experiences, with a lifetime of bitter lessons.

  She pushed herself to her feet, and Kincaid copied the motion. “Well, it’s given me a lot to think about, that’s for certain,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure what the impact of the difference will be, but I suppose time will tell.” She dusted off her hands in a businesslike manner. “I’m sorry I fell apart. I’m all right now. We should continue into the town if we want to buy those horses.”

  Kincaid was watching her in silence, his forehead creased. She could tell he wasn’t convinced her internal crisis was over, but she didn’t intend to give him the opportunity to question her further. She turned to the dragon.

  “Will you stay out of the town again?”

  Elddreki sighed. “I suppose so. I would like to visit a human town—I am curious as to your way of life. But it seems likely my presence will hinder rather than help.”

  “Probably true, I’m afraid,” acknowledged Jocelyn with a smile.

  “The question of buying the horses was never decided, incidentally,” the dragon went on. “If not Jocelyn’s hair, what will you barter?”

  Kincaid came out of his abstraction, smiling in amusement at the curiosity on Elddreki’s face.

  “I have a few things,” he said, with a lighthearted shrug. “My knife is worth a fair bit. I could give that up without too much disadvantage, as long as I still have my sword.”

  “My bracelet!” cried Jocelyn, belatedly remembering this article. “We’ll barter my bracelet! You shouldn’t give up your knife.”

  Kincaid shook his head. “No, Joss, keep your bracelet.”

  Jocelyn frowned. He was infuriatingly stubborn. And the worst of it was his manner as he said it made it clear he was confident of winning the argument. He was clearly far too used to getting his own way. She wondered what it would take to change his mind.

  Change his mind. The thought tickled at her as they walked, daring her to explore it. Would she be able to change his mind if she tried? If her power really was change, would understanding that make it easier to control it?

  They parted ways with the dragon not far beyond the creek. He said he would wait for them there, and wished them success on what he placidly called their “horse quest”. Both humans admirably kept their gravity as they thanked him.

  The two of them walked quickly as they continued on toward the town. Jocelyn kept shooting sideways glances at Kincaid as she mulled over what words to use, and eventually he noticed.

  “What is it, Joss?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I’m just not happy about the idea of you selling your knife and me keeping my bracelet.”

  Kincaid grinned maddeningly. “I’m sure you’re not, but you won’t win this one, Jocelyn, so just let it go.”

  She narrowed her eyes, focusing on her words. “It’s just that a knife is much more practical than a bracelet, Kincaid.”

  “True,” he said easily. “But like I said, I’d still have my sword.”

  Jocelyn frowned. She had felt her power leave her, but it had been barely a trickle, and there had been no obvious effect. She focused on the power itself this time, rather than the words, teasing it out of herself, casting it in Kincaid’s direction.

  “It would be so unfortunate if we ran into trouble again, and you were prevented from coming to my aid this time because you’d lost your knife.”

  This time she felt the power reaching out much more tangibly, and a flicker crossed Kincaid’s face.

  “That would be unfortunate,” he agreed slowly. “That would be awful.” His face was creased in a look of calculation, but all of a sudden his features changed, astonishment leaping across them, and he came to a sudden halt.

  “You were just doing it, weren’t you?” he accused. “Trying to use your power to change my mind!”

  Jocelyn ducked her head, ashamed. He had caught her out so quickly. “I was,” she admitted, bracing herself for his reaction. He had every right to be angry, after she had bemoaned at length how dangerous her power was.

  But anger seemed to be the furthest thing from Kincaid’s mind.

  “That was incredible!” he said, delighted. “I could really feel it, even though I didn’t recognize what it was at the time.” He beamed at her. “That was brilliant.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. He was looking at her as though she had just performed an impressive juggling act while balancing on her hands.

  “Not really,” she said. “It didn’t work, did it? I didn’t change your mind.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Or did I?”

  Kincaid’s grin was broader than ever. “Of course not. You’re not bartering your bracelet, Jocelyn, just forget about it.”

  “Hm.” She decided not to argue the point at that moment. She looked at him curiously. “What did it feel like?”

  Kincaid thought it over, starting to walk again. “It just seemed all of a sudden that I should reconsider my position, that maybe what I’d thought was true wasn’t so certain after all.”

  “Hm,” said Jocelyn again. “Which would make most people uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? People don’t like change.” She thought about her own feelings regarding the drastic changes that might be coming to her life if she went through with this marriage alliance, and deflated slightly. “And I don’t blame them.” She looked over at Kincaid. “But not you.”

  “Not me what?”

  “Change doesn’t make you uncomfortable. You said once,” she colored slightly, “that talking to me didn’t feel uncomfortable, it felt exciting. You find change exciting.”

  Kincaid considered it. “I suppose I do.”

  Jocelyn nodded, satisfied. “And you don’t become confused or uncomfortable just because your views are challenged. You don’t even become resentful of the person who made you question what you thought before. Trust me when I say that’s unusual.” She gave him an appraising glance. “It’s a sign of a strong character, I think.”

  “Thank you,” said Kincaid. He was clearly trying to speak modestly, but he looked very pleased with himself. He flashed her a sudden, devastatingly appealing grin. “So I can withstand you, O Mighty One.”

  She chuckled. “We’ll see.”

  “But this is great,” Kincaid enthused, still bizarrely delighted about her attempt to manipulate him. “It’s an excellent idea.”

  “What is?” asked Jocelyn warily.

  “You trying to train with your power. You can practice on me!”

  “No.” Jocelyn spoke flatly. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not, Joss?” Kincaid protested. “Elddreki is out, because he’s not affected by your power, at least not in the normal way. Who else is there but me?”

  “I’m not going to intentionally try to mess with your mind on a regular basis, Kincaid,” said Jocelyn firmly. “I shouldn’t have done it at all. It was very wrong of me.”

  Kincaid waved her apology aside with a casual hand. “Nonsense! You need to stop being afraid of it, Jocelyn. It’s an incredible tool, and you don’t use it nearly enough. Besides, it would benefit everyone, especially you, if you could control it better.”

  Jocelyn wavered. The idea of being able to more reliabl
y control her power was appealing, she couldn’t deny it. But one look at Kincaid’s eager, trusting face was enough to bring back all her doubts.

  “No, Kincaid,” she said. “I already told you I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “And I already told you that you won’t,” said Kincaid, unconcerned. “You said it yourself, I’m barely affected by it. Besides, I trust you. Even if you find a way to make it impact me more, I’m not afraid you’ll do anything nefarious to me.”

  “Not on purpose,” said Jocelyn desperately.

  “It will be fine, Joss,” said Kincaid in that same tone of authority.

  Jocelyn narrowed her eyes at his assumption of control, again focusing her mind. “I would hate for you to become less confident if I somehow changed your nature by accident.”

  Kincaid’s expression stilled as he thought about this possibility, then all of a sudden he shook his head like a dog shaking off water.

  “You little sneak!” he laughed, his delighted tone at odds with his words. “You were doing it again!”

  Jocelyn grinned guiltily, unable to help herself. It was so bizarre, but so freeing, that Kincaid could tell she was trying to influence him but was still so pleased about it.

  “You won’t do me any harm, Jocelyn,” he said seriously, “because I know what you’re doing. It’s not like the times you’ve accidentally influenced people who didn’t even realize your words were what changed their minds.”

  Jocelyn hesitated, thinking it over. “Perhaps it is worth trying to get better at controlling it. Then I might be able to avoid using it altogether.”

  Kincaid rolled his eyes at how she intended to use the proposed training, but he didn’t argue.

  “So it’s settled.”

  Jocelyn still felt uneasy, but they had just reached the first buildings, and she fell silent. She drew unconsciously closer to Kincaid, who shot her a reassuring smile that didn’t quite match the keen alertness of his eyes as they swept the area. She swallowed, trying not to think about her experiences in the last two towns.

  But she needn’t have worried. She wouldn’t have described the place as pleasant, but the people’s demeanor wasn’t as hostile as in Thalia. It was a reasonably sized town, but even so, they were lucky to find horses available for sale. They weren’t the fastest looking steeds, but they would certainly be better than walking all the way to the eastern coast.

  As before, Kincaid took charge of the negotiations. Jocelyn felt guiltier than ever when she saw the knife up close. It was a beautiful weapon, the hilt intricately engraved, and the design elaborate. But Kincaid seemed to take its loss lightly.

  In the end he had to trade his traveling cloak as well as his knife, which he did cheerfully enough. He waved off Jocelyn’s protests, saying he could pick up a simpler, less costly cloak as they headed into the colder eastern region. Finally, when he threw in the extra parchment, which they hadn’t used, and the two oil lamps, the seller was satisfied.

  “Hopefully we don’t find ourselves stranded in any more pitch black caves,” Kincaid muttered humorously as the man placed the lamps in his own bag. Kincaid had leaned so close that his breath tickled Jocelyn’s ear as he spoke, and she felt a pleasant shiver dancing over her skin at the reminder of the cave.

  “You got cheated, didn’t you?” she muttered accusingly, trying to turn the topic. “That dagger looked very costly.”

  Kincaid shrugged in acknowledgment, smiling slightly. “We need the horses more, Joss.”

  “But how much was it worth? It looked like a family heirloom!”

  “It wasn’t an heirloom,” said Kincaid. “It’s fine.” He saw that she was raising an eyebrow at him. “It was a present from my parents,” he admitted, relenting. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  “Won’t they be angry that you got rid of it?” asked Jocelyn anxiously.

  He shrugged again, his voice and expression cheerful. “Hopefully not.”

  He turned back to the local man, who was waving an underling forward. The urchin led the horses toward their new owners, and Jocelyn was immediately distracted from their conversation.

  She stepped up to one of them, a chestnut mare, and began to stroke her mane, crooning softly to her. The horse flicked her ears responsively, nuzzling Jocelyn’s hand. Jocelyn leaned into the creature. She had always loved horses.

  She looked up to see Kincaid watching her, his hand on the bridle of the other horse, and an affectionate smile on his face. She cleared her throat quickly, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Should we go?”

  Kincaid nodded, still smiling faintly, and they began to head out of town. They hadn’t gone far, however, when Jocelyn detected the intangible but undeniable buzz that always heralded the arrival of news. A pair of small boys ran past them, talking eagerly to each other, their words indistinguishable.

  Jocelyn and Kincaid exchanged looks.

  “Did you hear?”

  They both jumped at the eager voice immediately to their left, but a quick glance showed the woman wasn’t speaking to them. Her friend was leaning in, ready for a gossip, but the volume of the speaker made the gesture unnecessary.

  “The chandler’s son just came back from Thalia, and he claims there was a dragon there yesterday! An actual dragon!!”

  The second woman gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her ample bosom. “Was anyone eaten?”

  “He claims no one was hurt,” said the first woman, sounding faintly disappointed. “Apparently the beast was traveling with two humans, so maybe it’s not dangerous. They came east when they left!”

  The listener’s eyes flicked to Jocelyn and Kincaid, standing nearby and clearly listening in.

  “Did he say anything about these humans traveling with the creature?” she asked her friend.

  “Time to go, I think,” muttered Kincaid, and Jocelyn nodded fervently. They walked their horses out of town as quickly as possible, and mounted up as soon as they were clear of the buildings.

  Jocelyn reveled in her first ride in days. She leaned close along the horse’s neck and urged the mare forward, glad she had released her hair from its braid. She had always felt at her most free when on horseback—there was no other feeling quite like having the wind tugging at her hair as it streamed out behind her, unrestrained.

  She and her mare overtook Kincaid on his bay, and he hastened to urge his own mount on in pursuit. Jocelyn glanced back, grinning slyly as she pushed her horse to a gallop. His eyes were on her, and they were shining with the same unfettered delight she felt. She saw that he had an excellent seat. If possible, he looked stronger and more confident on horseback than he did on his own two feet.

  Predictably, Elddreki was not difficult to locate, curled up by the stream in a restful posture. He raised his head at their approach, his eyes assessing the new additions to their party with his usual bright curiosity.

  Kincaid had been gaining on Jocelyn, and at the last moment he raced ahead of her, reaching the dragon first. She pulled up just behind him, laughing.

  “I’ll get you next time!” she called, and he grinned.

  “We’ll see.”

  Elddreki pushed himself languidly to his feet, smiling indulgently on their flushed and happy faces. Jocelyn’s mount, which had been sidling nervously ever since reaching the beast, suddenly reared. She gasped, barely managing to keep her seat as she brought the animal back under control. Kincaid had his horse alongside hers in a flash, but she shook her head, indicating for him to stay out of the way. The mare was still dancing anxiously on the spot, but Jocelyn kept an iron hand on the reins, speaking soothingly as she calmed her.

  She felt a flash of exasperation as Elddreki leaned closer, sure the dragon would throw her horse into a panic again. But when Elddreki spoke, in words Jocelyn didn’t understand, the animal calmed slightly. Elddreki took a deep breath, exhaling it in a gentle, unnaturally warm wind that seemed to wrap itself around the horse. Focusing on the sensation, Jocelyn recognized with interest the signatur
e of Elddreki’s magic. The power settled over the horse like an invisible blanket, and the mare stilled altogether. The two humans watched in amazement as the horse stepped lightly forward, nuzzling against Elddreki’s flank.

  The dragon received the gesture of affection with his usual unruffled calm.

  “She just needed to be reassured as to the nature of the beast she’s dealing with,” he explained. “Horses are very intelligent creatures.” He looked down at the mare fondly. “I like horses. I can understand why the bereft dragons thought them gentle enough creatures to receive forfeited magic.” He sighed. “Although it was still very wrong of them, of course.”

  “You’re a good horsewoman,” Kincaid commented to Jocelyn, admiration in his gaze. “You ride well, and you handled that crisis expertly.”

  “Thank you,” said Jocelyn, her tone unconvincingly modest. She shot him a grin. “That is a normal part of a princess’s education.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was delightful, after days of trekking on foot, to move eastward at the rapid pace their new horses allowed. Even the inevitable aches of hours of riding couldn’t dim Jocelyn’s pleasure. They stopped to rest as regularly as horses or humans required, but they didn’t enter another town again all that day. Elddreki had shown no visible reaction to the news that word of him had begun to spread, but Jocelyn felt eager to put some distance between them and the rumors if possible.

  The scrubby grassland near the river had long since given way to more cultivated land, although towns were still few and far between. The summer sun was pleasantly warm, and the countryside was beautiful. Jocelyn could almost imagine herself in Kyona.

  When darkness fell, they had a quick debate about whether to pay for lodgings somewhere. But as Kincaid was unwilling to let Jocelyn barter her bracelet, and Jocelyn was unwilling to let him pay for her lodgings, they reached an impasse.

  Really, Jocelyn thought when they settled for sleep, it would have been a waste of their resources. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t exactly luxurious, but the springy turf of the copse of trees where they stopped was more comfortable than either the cave or the riverbank had been. And as much as she knew a chaperone would disapprove, it didn’t feel improper having Kincaid so close, not with Elddreki there. On the contrary, it felt comforting and reassuring.