by John Corwin
As we ate, I noticed the headmaster stealing curious glances at me. I wanted to ask him why, but since everyone was preoccupied with eating, it seemed impolite to break the silence. When we finished, a wooden man dressed in butler livery walked in with a tray bearing a pot and teacups.
I stared with wonder at the odd butler. He reminded me of the strange puppet guards at the entrance to Queens Gate. "How—" I stopped myself before asking a question sure to mark me as a nom.
Galfandor didn't miss my reaction. "You've never seen a golem before, Conrad?"
I tried to recover. "Not like that one."
He nodded, bright blue eyes fixed on me. "Servant golems are quite handy in a house this large." He looked around the table. "Tea, everyone?"
Ambria nodded briskly. "Absolutely."
The golem had no visible joints—it seemed to be made from a single piece of wood—yet it bent over and set the table as if it were made of rubber. Once it poured us each a cup, it left, vanishing through a double-hinged door into what I presumed was the kitchen.
Galfandor took a sip of tea and regarded me seriously. "Young man, I couldn't help but notice something rather troubling about you."
I nearly choked on my tea. I swallowed loudly. "W-what would that be?"
He set down his teacup "You're cursed."
Chapter 24
"Cursed?" Ambria's voice rose an octave.
Max scooted his chair away from me. "What kind of curse?"
"Yes, well, I haven't worked that out yet." Galfandor stood. "Let's go to my study. I'd like to get a better look."
I felt woozy from his abrupt diagnosis and had trouble standing. Cursed? What does that mean? I wondered if it was something the frogre had done to me. I managed to get up and followed the headmaster as he vanished through a door.
Ambria gripped my arm as we followed. "I'm sure he's wrong, Conrad. You look fine." She glanced behind us. "Right, Max?"
"I hope so," he replied. "Curses are usually pretty bad, though."
"Brilliant analysis," she replied in a tart voice and turned back to me. "Nothing to worry about."
It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. My mind felt numb. Something horrible is wrong with me! We walked across a hallway and into a room lined with bookshelves. A sturdy wooden desk covered in parchments and scrolls occupied the center. Galfandor opened a drawer in the desk and fished around for a moment before retrieving a pair of spectacles with pink lenses.
"Ah, my rose colored lenses should do the trick." He glanced at me and flinched back. "Goodness. I thought I felt a malevolent aura around you, but this is quite a sight."
"May I look?" Ambria asked in an uncharacteristically timid tone. Her hand on my arm trembled.
"Of course." The headmaster handed her the spectacles.
She backed up a step and hesitantly looked through the lenses. Her face went white and she nearly dropped the spectacles. "Oh, goodness."
Max took the glasses from her shaking hand and held them to his eyes. He jumped back. "It looks like he has black ghosts writhing around his body." He braced a hand on the desk. "What is it?"
Galfandor took back the eyewear. "I've never seen anything like it." He reached under his robe and produced a wand. "Let me see now." He waved the wand and flicked it toward me. A cloud of pale white light sparkled toward me.
I nearly jumped out of the way, but found the presence of mind to stay in place. As the light surrounded me, it revealed ghostly black shadows dancing in my vision.
"Look, Conrad." Galfandor pointed toward a large mirror on the wall. "Don't be afraid."
Clenching my fists to contain the fear, I turned toward the mirror. A harsh gasp escaped my throat. Two wraithlike creatures encircled me. One darted through my body and jutted from the other side while the second slithered around me like a snake. It coiled and struck at the light. Sparks flew.
Ambria shrieked. Max cried out and I heard something thump on the floor.
The other shape clawed at the light, causing it to dim with every attack. A terrible ache formed in my temples and my skin felt as if it was on fire. As the light faded, one of the shadows stood and cast its ethereal hands forward. In a brilliant flash, the light was gone.
The heat on my skin relented, replaced by cold sweat. As the afterimages of the horrifying vision faded, I realized with a shock that I recognized one of the shadows. It looked exactly like the one I'd seen in my dream. Whatever they were, they wanted something from me.
Ambria gripped Galfandor's arm. "What was that thing? Will it kill Conrad?"
The old man seemed nonplussed. He shrugged. "I'm not sure. One thing is certain, however. If I try to remove this curse, it would most likely kill Conrad."
Max picked himself up off the floor. "I don't understand how he's survived this long."
Galfandor dropped into a worn leather chair and regarded me, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "I think the laserphant in the room is why someone would bestow such a curse on a child."
"Could it have been the frogre?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, this is the work of a frightfully skilled Arcane."
Ambria's lips flat-lined into a grim expression. Though she said nothing, I knew what she was thinking.
Her brother, Levi, cursed me when he was trying to kill me.
Galfandor took a sip of tea, set it down, and unloaded a very direct question. "Conrad, what is your last name?"
My throat tightened. Telling the headmaster my real last name would be a mistake. At the same time, he seemed to be the only person who could possibly help me. If anything, he'd been the kindest adult I'd met and seemed trustworthy. What if this is a ruse?
"Baker," Ambria said.
At the very same moment, Max blurted, "Huxtable."
Galfandor's gaze never wavered from me. "Be honest, Conrad. You have nothing to fear from me."
While I appreciated my friends' attempts to protect me, I felt being truthful was for the best. "Edison."
For the first time, the old man's eyes flashed with either surprise or uncertainty. "You are the son of Victus Edison and Delectra Moore." His voice sounded tight.
I nodded.
The room went deathly silent for what seemed a very long time. Galfandor finally looked at Ambria. "What is your last name, young lady?"
She took a step back, eyes widening. "Why does it matter?"
He did not answer, but his unrelenting gaze refused to let her remain silent.
Her lips trembled and finally she spoke. "It's Rax."
The old man nodded and his eyes seemed to focus on something a thousand miles away.
"Maybe we should leave," Max said. "You probably don't want people from evil families in your house."
The headmaster rose from his chair. "A name is a name, nothing more, young Tiberius. It is up to an individual to choose his actions." He looked at me. "Conrad Edison, you have it in you to become a great Arcane should you choose the right path."
I nodded, uncertain how to respond.
He turned. "Ambria Rax, you could be a great leader one day if you avoid the temptation of power for power's sake. This was something your father was too weak to resist."
"I'm not that fond of power," she said.
Galfandor turned to the last member of our trio. "Maxwell Tiberius, your father craves power but is too petty and cowardly to take the risks necessary. Thus, he has always remained in the shadow of your late grandfather. If you are not afraid to take risks, you may someday bring honor back to your house."
Max's face turned a bit red. He gave Galfandor a grudging nod. "If you say so, sir."
"Galfandor, I think I should clarify something," I said. "Ambria and I never knew our parents. We were sent to an orphanage years ago. Only recently, I discovered terrible secrets about the place."
"I would be intrigued to hear your history," Galfandor said. "Perhaps once I know more, I can divine who would lay such a curse on you and why." He walked toward the door. "Let'
s go to the parlor where we may all sit."
We followed him down the hallway and entered a door. Leather divans surrounded a table in the cozy little room. We each took a seat. Galfandor said nothing, but gave me an expectant look. I took a deep breath and told him our story. Aside from a few thoughtful grunts, he listened quietly, without comment. I was extremely hesitant to expose the fullness of our crimes—the deaths of Levi Rax and Brickle—but couldn't think of a good way to leave them out.
He winced when I told him of the shovel to the back of Levi's head, though the part where a demon devoured Brickle didn't seem to faze him in the least. I ended the narrative at the episode with the frogre and didn't tell him of acquiring our new home though that crime was minor compared to murder.
Max looked down when I finished the story while Ambria squirmed in her seat, eyebrows pinched with worry. I felt as though we'd submitted ourselves to judgment. Even worse, I wondered if I'd ruined Max and Ambria's chances for admittance to Arcane University.
Galfandor pulled a rope. A bell chimed.
I expected a troop of Templars to enter, seize us, and throw us in jail. Instead, the butler golem appeared with a fresh pot of tea. "Would anyone like a refill?"
I held out a cup in a trembling hand. Though tea had been a luxury most of my foster parents afforded me, the Goodleighs had been far stingier. If I somehow remained out of prison, I decided tea would become a daily staple.
"Please don't call the Templars," Max said in a whining voice. "I promise destroying the house and killing Brickle were accidents."
"I take full responsibility," Ambria said. "I'm the one who cast the demon scroll."
Galfandor took a sip of tea. "Ah, perfect as always." He smacked his lips together. "Nothing like a spot of tea while listening to a tale of adventure."
"That adventure has been our lives for the past few days," I said.
"You're a very brave boy," the headmaster said. "You risked life and freedom to rescue Miss Rax from an uncertain fate."
"What's our punishment?" Max asked.
Galfandor raised his eyebrows. "Why, anyone with a grain of sense can see your actions were in self-defense. There was nothing malicious about destroying the house or killing those men." He raised a finger. "That is not to say killing is justified if you can find another way. Conrad must have hit poor Levi just right to kill him, and your lack of experience with advanced caster scrolls led to the untimely demise of Brickle Brixworth."
"Does this mean you'll help us rescue the other orphans?" Ambria asked. "We can't let the Goodleighs continue selling them into service."
Galfandor clicked his tongue. "Unfortunately, since the breakdown of Overworld society, such illegal practices have become all too common. Without a strong Overworld Conclave, the factions have drifted apart and the dividing line between the supers and normals has grown dangerously thin."
"There are more people like the Goodleighs?" I asked.
"Why, there are entire organizations devoted to such ghastly enterprise. There is even an underground gladiator circuit where enslaved supers must fight each other, sometimes to the death." His upper lip peeled into a grimace. "I would not be surprised if Ambria was scheduled for sale to such a master."
Ambria squeaked. "What awful, horrid people!" Fists clenched, she jolted to her feet. "I won't stand for this, Conrad. I will not allow the Goodleighs to sell a single orphan more."
I turned back to the headmaster. "Will you help us, Galfandor?"
"I'm afraid I cannot overtly help you, Conrad. There are political complications that would stand in the way." He tapped a finger to his chin. "I can provide you with more spell scrolls—"
I felt my mouth drop open. "You can't help us?" My voice rose in pitch. "What kind of person could just stand by and do nothing?"
The headmaster didn't look angry at my outburst. Instead, he seemed curious about my reaction. "Conrad, there are things you are much too young to understand. Perhaps one day you'll see the truth of it. I will supply you with what I can, but directly helping you is out of the question."
"What about the Templars?" Max asked.
"They are not under my control," he said. "Ask them for help if you wish, but I think you'll find they're much too preoccupied with Queens Gate to do anything in the normal world. I'm afraid the fate of the Overworld was sealed the same day the Alabaster Arches closed behind Justin Slade and his army. What should have been a golden age has instead turned into a dark dystopia."
Ambria's bright red cheeks paled at his words. "You're saying there's too much crime to control?"
He nodded. "I'm afraid it will take centuries for the supernatural society to recover."
"If you won't help us with the Goodleighs, can you at least tell us about Conrad's curse?" Max said.
"I'm afraid the answer is clear," Ambria said. "My brother must have done it when he tried to kill him."
Galfandor shook his head. "No, this curse is far more insidious than an ordinary death curse. In fact, if it is what I think it is, someone has managed something far worse—a living curse."
Max scrunched his lips. "If it helps you live, wouldn't that be a charm?"
"I do not mean it helps Conrad live, I mean the curse itself is alive." He took a sip of tea and continued. "Conrad's many foster parents suffered from mysterious deaths and ailments usually right around his birthday. I believe this curse is the cause. It would also explain why the Goodleighs were so eager to foist you on unsuspecting couples for much of the year, knowing that you would return to them around the same time."
"The Goodleighs put this curse on me?" I asked.
He shook his head. "While I do not know this couple, I can say with certainty they likely don't have the skill required. I also know I do not have the skill to remove this curse."
"What can I do?" My voice sounded thin with despair.
"That would seem obvious," he said.
"Obvious?" Max, Ambria, and I said at the same time.
"Your dream," Galfandor explained. "The creature in your dream was the curse talking to you."
"It told me to go to the doctor," I said.
"And not just any ordinary doctor," he replied. "I believe Rufus Cumberbatch was a close associate of Victus and Delectra Moore, though many refuse to believe this opinion. If anyone was capable of placing this curse on you, it was him."
Chapter 25
Ambria and I stared at each other for several seconds as we processed the troubling fact that Dr. Cumberbatch might have done this to me. The question still remained, why?
Galfandor seemed to read my mind. "If there are answers to be found, young Conrad, you must seek them out with Cumberbatch." He clasped his hands across his lap. "Unfortunately, I know the man well and suspect he won't easily cooperate. He has always been something of a cowardly liar. Though he often spoke out against the Overlord, I believe it was all for show so he could gain useful information for his true master. Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived."
My thoughts bounced back and forth between the Goodleighs and the doctor. Which should I tackle first? I knew removing the curse should take priority, so I decided we should plan our next moves accordingly.
"Do you have access to fairy mushrooms?" Max asked Galfandor.
"For your daring rescue plan?" the old man replied with a chuckle. "I must say, using the mushrooms with brooms to spirit away the other children is quite inventive." He leaned forward. "Though I cannot help you directly, I promise I will help you find good homes for anyone you rescue."
I stood and approached Galfandor, held out my hand. "It's a deal, sir."
He stood and gave my hand a firm shake. "A deal." He reached back and gave the bell rope two quick tugs. Moments later, two golems bearing brooms and a large burlap sack appeared. Galfandor smiled. "Here are your supplies. May they grant you success."
I looked inside the sack and found small satchels. One brimmed with mushrooms. Another held potions, and yet another contained scrolls. How could he possib
ly have known what we would need? Rather than badger him with questions, I decided to accept this help.
"Thank you, sir."
Galfandor placed a hand on my shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck." He paused. "Didn't you say you downloaded information from the Goodleigh's arctablet?"
"Yes, I have it on the phone right here."
"Perhaps I should have a copy. I might be able to find out where these children came from."
"Absolutely." I took out the phone.
He patted his robes, muttering to himself. "Where did I put that infernal thing?" His hand stopped just over his chest. "Ah, there it is." He took out a phone and held it up to mine.
"Phone, send all information from the Goodleigh's tablet to Galfandor's phone," I told it.
"Transfer in progress," the phone said.
Max ran a hand along one of the brooms and chortled. "Whoa, is this a genuine Firefly Special?"
"Built by Screven himself." Galfandor pursed his lips and looked at Max. "Don't be tempted to race them."
"Wouldn't think of it," Max vowed, even as his eyes flashed with desire.
After the data transfer finished, we gathered our supplies and left Galfandor's house as dusk settled across the sky. I wanted to fly my new broom, but Max cautioned me against it. "You can't just hop on a Firefly and zip around, Conrad." He stopped speaking. "Then again, you might be able to just like you did these old brooms, but I wouldn't chance it right now." He slung the new broom over his back with the included leather strap and got on the old broom. He'd tied the burlap sack with supplies to the back of my broom. The added weight made it hover with a slight upward tilt.
Ambria and I climbed on our brooms and followed Max as he headed toward the cliff.
"What's so different about these new brooms?" Ambria asked.
"They're built for speed." Max flashed a wide grin. "These beginner brooms automatically keep you upright and don't go very fast. A Firefly is a boomstick, a supercharged broomstick. You'll have to practice with them or you'll just look silly dangling upside down."
