Curses and Warfare

by Jeri Baird

  She wasn’t the only one who found the fortune-teller moody and sharp-tongued. Not all in the village trusted Melina Odella, and she seemed to enjoy intimidating them with her haughtiness. As a fortune-teller, Alexa would cultivate an air of mystery, but she would not be aloof. She wanted to guide even those who couldn’t pay much. Melina Odella wouldn’t approve. It was another secret Alexa would keep from her teacher.

  The closer Alexa came to the cottage, the more her stomach churned. Being an apprentice wasn’t supposed to be like that. She should be excited to learn from her mentor, not worried about what mood she’d find her in. As soon as Alexa stepped into the cottage, she sensed a dark aura. Depressed energy swirled around Alexa and slowed her steps.

  In the middle of the room, Melina Odella sat facing the door, head down, shoulders hunched, flipping card after card onto the table. Her scowl deepened with each toss. Unaware of Alexa, the fortune-teller muttered, “Fortune, Tower, Moon, Death.” Then she glanced up and her scowl turned to anger. “You spy on me?”

  Stepping back, Alexa shook her head. “I only now entered.”

  Melina Odella stood and swept the cards into one pile. With barely controlled anger, she spat, “Get your journal. We’ll work on spells.”

  Not spells. The only use for the spells Melina Odella taught Alexa were to make hair fuller or grow faster, or ridiculous things like keeping a knife sharp or a pot shiny. Alexa wanted to learn how to grow herbs in the winter, or at least how to make an arrow fly true. She held in her sigh, knowing it would make Melina Odella angrier, slumped into a chair, and opened her journal. She flipped through the pages of potions. Who needed a potion for pretty feet? She skimmed recipes for smooth skin, plump cheeks, and removing warts. She wanted a spell to give warts. That would be amusing.

  With a thump, Melina Odella sat across from Alexa and opened her own book. For several moments, she stared at Alexa. “I know you want to learn more important spells.”

  Alexa jerked her head up. “I–I think I’m ready.”

  With a snort, Melina Odella said, “You’re not. You have to build a foundation. Master the small spells first. Walk before you run.”

  Alexa recoiled as if her teacher had slapped her. She pursed her lips and, with uncharacteristic control, kept her thoughts to herself. Mother had told Alexa once that Alexa ran as soon as she stood. Walking had never been her way. She didn’t think Melina Odella would appreciate the analogy.

  For two hours, Melina Odella droned on about spells for making bread rise in cold weather, keeping spiders out of a house, and getting a hen to lay an egg a day. There were five separate spells for keeping a goat from chewing on laundry hung outside to dry. Alexa wrote each down, growing more despondent. She didn’t care about a goat eating towels. Keep the damn thing in a pen!

  The only distraction came when Elder Nhara came to the door and whispered for a potion. When Melina Odella disappeared behind the red curtains that led to her stockroom, Alexa leaned forward and turned a few pages of the fortune-teller’s book. She saw a spell that might actually come in handy. Luckily, she could read upside down. She wrote it quickly in the back of her own book and flipped back as Melina Odella strode into the room. If Alexa could get her hands on that book for a day or two, she’d learn something worth knowing.

  As Elder Nhara left, the potion clutched in her hand, the noon bells rang. Melina Odella dismissed Alexa with the flip of a hand. “Enough for today. Don’t come tomorrow, I have duties.”

  Relieved to be released, Alexa rushed to the market. She wove through the crowd to the west side to find the temporary homes of the travelers who’d arrived for the upcoming Twelve Day Festival. She’d forgotten Tshilaba until Mother mentioned trading for the ribbons. Even though she could read the cards for herself, she liked getting another’s perspective, and Tshilaba had plenty of experience.

  She hesitated when she came to the black tent with red symbols painted on the sides. She recalled the reading she and Zander had received in May before the quest. As she stood outside, the flap pulled back, and Tshilaba smiled from inside.

  “Alexa!” she called. “I hoped to see you.” Her dark skin contrasted with her pale blue eyes. Embroidered snakes swirled around her black velvet skirt.

  Alexa eyed the stitching. When she earned the right to tell fortunes on her own, she’d sew one like it. With her favor, the snakes would actually move. She smirked. Melina Odella would hate that.

  She stepped into the square tent, blinked a few times to get used to the dark, and studied the space with a fortune-teller’s eyes. A table covered with a rich purple cloth sat in the middle of the room. White candles provided the only light. Baskets overflowing with bottles of potions and jars of salve filled one corner, while drying herbs hung from another, infusing the room with exotic scents Alexa couldn’t place. Although stark compared to Melina Odella’s room, Alexa felt a rapport she didn’t feel with her teacher.

  Two figures perched on low wooden stools in a third corner next to a potbelly stove that vented out the side. They stood when Tshilaba motioned to them. One was the red-haired girl who worked the Wheel of Fortune booth during the festivals. Unusual hair color for the Raskans. The other, a boy who looked a couple of years older than Alexa, wore a scowl and a braid running from his left temple to behind his ear. The rest of his dark blond hair was twisted up into a bun. They both had brown skin, common in the Raskans.

  “This is my daughter, Sophia,” Tshilaba said. “And my nephew, Jess.”

  Alexa stared at the silver rings Jess wore on every finger. Zander would never wear jewelry like that. When she looked up, his gray eyes startled her. She’d never seen eyes that color.

  “What’s your problem, Chadha girl?” He glared at her, and Sophia giggled.

  “Be kind, Jess.” Tshilaba nodded to the back of the tent. “Leave us.”

  Chadha girl? Jess said it like a swear. As Sophia and Jess slipped out a hidden flap, Alexa collected her thoughts. Other than Tshilaba, she’d only seen the Raskans at the festival booths or trading with the merchants. They kept to themselves when not working. Maybe they didn’t like the other tribes.

  “My Sophia is our Chosen One.” Tshilaba’s eyes lit up. “Her destiny is foretold to hold great magic. She’ll bring honor to our people.”

  A year ago, at the May Festival, Sophia had given Alexa a star for her quest. She’d said then that Moira spoke to her. Alexa hadn’t believed her, but maybe she’d spoken true.

  “It is rare for our tribe to have a red-haired fortune-teller—the Chosen One comes only once every few generations.” Tshilaba’s many bracelets jangled as she brought her cards from her pocket. “You came for your future, yes? Let’s see what the cards say.”

  A shadow at the back of the tent caught Alexa’s attention. Remembering her first reading with Tshilaba, she frowned. “Where’s the black panther?”

  Tshilaba raised her eyebrows. “Panther?”

  “The black panther that sat next to your table when Zander and I had our reading.”

  “I’ve never had a panther.” Tshilaba cocked her head. “Perhaps it was a phantom warning only for your eyes.”

  Alexa snorted. “We didn’t listen very well.”

  “Come, sit.” Tshilaba shuffled the cards and splayed them across the silken cloth. “Choose your cards.”

  People who agonized over every card, afraid of picking the wrong one, annoyed Alexa. With no hesitation, she intuitively turned over five cards.

  Tshilaba studied the cards, as did Alexa. The deck differed from the ones she used, but the meanings remained the same. The Tower, the Five of Swords, the Devil, the Five of Cups, and the Magician spread across the table.

  “You still try to control,” said Tshilaba.

  Alexa nodded.

  “Youth is the time to rebel.” Tshilaba patted Alexa’s hand. “To believe you know better than Fate.”


  Leaning forward, Alexa asked, “And what of you? Do you always trust Moira?”

  “Trust? That is entirely different from acceptance. I trust that Moira will do as she desires, and I accept that I may not like it.”

  Alexa laughed. “Well put.”

  The Raskan’s gaze turned serious. “You must learn to use your gift quickly. The village will need you far sooner than one of your age would be ready.”

  “What of Melina Odella?”

  “It is you who will fight in this war.”

  “I don’t trust her.” Alexa hesitated. Did she trust this fortune-teller enough to confide in her? Her gut feeling was that she could, so she said softly, “She betrayed Zander before the quest.”

  Tshilaba closed her eyes and after a few moments spoke in a voice that drifted from deep within. “The Devil lies between the Fives. She will betray you once more.”

  Sudden dread clutched Alexa’s heart and she started to tremble. “How will I know?”

  “Pay attention. Question everything she teaches. Don’t defy her, but keep your secrets. Her betrayal will be less dear if you’re prepared.”

  She had felt it. She would be careful with Melina Odella. Her teacher wouldn’t catch her unaware.

  Tshilaba interrupted her thoughts. “The silk ribbons? Did you like them?”

  Thrown by the sudden change in conversation, Alexa’s stuttered, “Th-they’re beautiful.”

  “They are for your magic. Not for others. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish you could apprentice with me, but your place is here for now.” Tshilaba hesitated. “When I return, will you travel with me? Let me teach you for six months. Sophia could use the challenge of another student.”

  Shock rolled through her body. Leave her twin, their parents? Leave Dharien? “Six months?”

  “It’s a big world out there, Alexa.”

  “Can I think about it?” If Jess’s reaction to her reflected the other Raskans, she might not be welcome.

  “It will be as it will be.” Tshilaba swept up the cards and motioned Alexa to the bench behind her. “I have a gift for you.”

  When Alexa sat with her, Tshilaba pressed her palm against Alexa’s forehead. “Close your eyes.”

  A tingle started in the center of her forehead and turned into a throb. Alexa watched images behind her eyes turn into a story. The pictures flashed through her life, starting with the day she and Zander had been separated—a day she didn’t even remember. She watched as she cried herself to sleep, afraid of the dark without her brother. She watched her mother weep, as heartbroken as Alexa.

  The scene flipped through each birthday as she watched herself become more and more unhappy with her mother’s expectation that she become a baker. When she reached her sixteenth, she saw the ungrateful child she’d become. Her cheeks flushed. The scenes flipped quickly through the six months before the quest, showing her schemes and plans. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she and Zander discovered they were twins.

  Scenes from the quest showed her still trying to control her own destiny as well as the others, and she grimaced at the way she’d tried to get Merindah to bend to her will. She threw her body in front of Zander to protect him from the panther. She cringed as she saw his horror at the viciousness of the attack that tore her throat. She saw another figure she’d not been aware of—Moira stood at her feet and gazed intently at the happenings. Fate whispered to Zander, “The red stone,” and then “use the heart.” And when Zander sat back on his heels, Moira flicked her wrist and the snake appeared next to him. She whispered, “Shadow” and after the snake struck, she held out her palm as if to prevent a second bite while Shadow grabbed it.

  Remembering how sure she was that Zander was dying, Alexa’s eyes filled with tears. Moira whispered, “The final stone, Alexa.” In her vision, as Alexa held up the black and white stone, Moira appeared ghostlike in front of Zander. When Alexa pressed the stone between her palm and her twin’s, Moira spread her arms across them. Then Alexa saw her stand back and smile.

  Tshilaba released Alexa’s forehead, and Alexa fell forward. “Tshilaba, did you see . . .”

  “No. It was for you alone.”

  “Can you teach me to do that?”

  Tshilaba’s eyes held the promise of secrets.

  Alexa yearned to know them with a desperation that surprised her. She whispered, “Yes, I’ll go with you next year.”

  Chapter EIGHT

  Zephyr

  Zeph could scarcely believe Zander had asked him to train with the warriors. Excitement had kept him awake until after Mother came home from the tavern, and then he overslept. He ran all the way to Elder Warrin’s estate and rushed into the outbuilding, blushing at the laughter he felt directed at him. He grabbed a cold biscuit and a slice of ham as Zander assigned him to archery practice. He had it eaten before he reached the practice field.

  Zander handed Zeph a bow. He tripped over the end and nearly fell as he lined up with the women down one side of him.

  Zeph’s cheeks burned when Lash took the space next to him and called out, “Hoy, little warrior. Sure you’re ready to play with the men?” Lash turned to Koe and laughed. “What was Zander thinking, recruiting a baby?” He swiveled back to Zeph. “What are you, twelve?”

  “Almost sixteen,” Zeph mumbled.

  Zander strode to stand behind Zeph. His voice rang out down the line of archers. “Get ready to shoot.” He adjusted the bow in Zeph’s hands and frowned. “This will never work. It’s too long for you.” He took the bow and headed to the shed where they kept the supplies.

  At Lash’s muffled laughter, Zeph felt the sting of his earlier words. He might be almost sixteen, but he did look closer to twelve. The only thing that kept him from bolting was remembering Zander’s words. “He’ll be invaluable to us during a battle.”

  When Zander returned, he handed Zeph a smaller hunting bow. Zander said loud enough for everyone to hear, “A scout needs a smaller bow so he can hide more easily from his enemy.”

  As Zander called out, “Nock, draw, release,” Zeph fumbled with the arrows, shooting one into the ground instead of at the target. At least with Zander standing behind Zeph, Lash didn’t dare laugh. He soon got the hang of nocking the arrow, as well as pulling and releasing almost smoothly, but his arrow often hit the ground before getting as far as the target. Zander was patient, like Zeph imagined an older brother might be, had he been lucky enough to have one.

  Zeph was thankful when the noon bells rang and Zander called a halt to session. His shoulders ached as he stood last in line to put away the bows. He stepped into the windowless shed and hooked the bow on a nail. Before he could turn, the door slammed. The bolt clicked shut and familiar laughter filled his ears.

  He stumbled in the dark to the door, knowing it was hopeless. The others had already rushed to the outbuilding for the midday meal. He sat on the rough wooden floor and waited. Minutes went by and then half an hour. Zeph lowered his head and sat stoically. He’d be found when the next group came for their bows, but he dreaded the laughter that was sure to come, or worse, pity.

  Soft steps outside the door made Zeph jump to his feet. The bolt shot to the side. When the door opened, one of the women warriors stared open-mouthed at him. A large crow sat on her shoulder.

  Kaiya’s look of surprise quickly turned to one of anger. “Who did this?”

  He shrugged and stepped out of the shed, blinking in the sudden light.

  She grabbed his arm. “We’re going to Zander.”

  He rolled away from her. “It was a prank. I’m fine.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I have an idea who it was. Promise me—if he pulls something like this again, you’ll tell Zander?”

  He’d never whine to Zander about something so small. He mumbled, “I’ll take care of it,” and hoped Kaiya would accept it.r />
  She seemed to when she nodded. “Lucky for you, I left my jacket in the shed.” She grabbed the brown wool garment off a hook and pulled it on over her hemp tunic. “No one else needs to know.”

  Relief flooded Zeph at her understanding. Kaiya lived in the row houses, one step up from the shacks. She’d understand how much he wanted to fit in.

  “You missed the noon meal.” She glanced at the warriors pouring out of the outbuilding. “We’re with Greydon next.” She wrinkled her nose “Swords. Come on. I’ll walk with you.”

  When they reached the practice field, the women split off to the side to drill with each other. They didn’t have the muscles of the men, and Zeph wasn’t sure it was a disadvantage they could overcome. Greydon sent Zephyr to their group, and to his surprise, Zeph found them better swordsmen than he’d ever be. What they lacked in strength, they made up for in speed and finesse. His shoulders already burned from pulling the bow earlier that day, and as he swung, the wooden practice sword grew heavier with each passing minute. By the end of an hour, his head dropped in shame.

  “Don’t worry, Zeph,” Greydon consoled him. “I wasn’t any bigger than you when I was fifteen. You’ll grow, and it’ll get easier.”

  A black mist surrounded Greydon’s head. Disgusted, Zeph turned away. People lied all the time about things that weren’t important. Greydon had always been tall for his age.

  As he trudged to put the sword away, Zeph’s feet were swept out from under him. He fell hard to the ground. The wooden sword bounced up and smacked his lip. He leaned out so the blood dripped on the ground and not on his tunic.

  In a flurry, Kaiya was in Lash’s face, poking her finger in his chest. “You do that again and you’ll answer to me.”

  Lash stepped back and spread out his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything to the little warrior.” He backed away, laughing. “Not my fault he’s clumsy.”

  Zeph slumped against the ground, confused. Lash was lying, but no black shimmer showed around his head.