The Warrior's Curse

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  We’ve crossed over Highwyn.” Joth was nudging me awake and smiled when I opened my eyes. I sat up, surprised to find myself feeling better than I had before, while Joth’s shoulders seemed heavier than when I’d last seen them. I suspected that, as close as he had been holding me as we flew, I must have drawn some of his strength to myself.

  I tugged at the rag Loelle had wrapped around my palm after I had held the knife. The cut was already healed, further evidence that I had pulled strength from Joth. Yet even if he was weaker, he continued to hold me close.

  “Highwyn?” I had expected the dragon would fly us south to Nessel, where Simon would be. If Simon had come to Highwyn, it would be for only one reason.

  “Basil’s rescue,” I mumbled. Either he had been rescued, or was still in need of rescue. Or they had failed in the rescue but had obtained the location of the Olden Blade.

  I hoped it was the first, or at least that he was alive. I had not always treated Basil as kindly as I ought to have done. Despite all of that, he had cared for me, and I desperately wanted him to be safe and well.

  It wasn’t long before the dragon flew lower and I began to recognize the roads and buildings beneath us. More specifically, I recognized my former home, Woodcourt. A long, scorched line cut across what had once been our gardens, and I saw fallen bodies. The dragon must have done this too.

  The dragon landed near the rear entrance, and Joth dismounted first, then helped me slide onto solid ground. My feet were barely down on the ground before Trina ran outside, calling my name.

  “Is Basil here?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened momentarily, surprised that I knew why I was here, then she said, “His life is in grave danger. Can you help him?”

  “She’s still recovering from having helped someone else,” Joth said.

  “Who are you?” If Trina picked up on the protective tone in Joth’s voice, she clearly resented it.

  “I’ll do everything I can,” I said. “Take me to him.”

  Trina led the way into Woodcourt and toward the east wing, my parents’ half of the home. As we ran, I asked, “Simon, is he—”

  “He’s here, but he’s getting bandaged. Nothing serious,” she quickly added. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you as soon as he can.”

  By then, we had reached the door to Sir Henry’s room. I hesitated in the corridor, dreading going inside. It was difficult enough to return to Woodcourt, mostly because of who my adopted father had been in any of our forced interactions. I’d rarely been allowed into his room. If anything, it was his sanctuary from me. But if Basil was in there, then I needed to enter.

  I drew in a deep breath and held it when I opened the door. Immediately, my concern for having to think of my adopted father shifted to looking at Captain Tenger, who stood to greet me. He gave me a polite nod, but I did not return it. I did not trust what he might do the second my head was down, and I was surprised he trusted me enough to bring me here.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said.

  “Has Basil said anything?” When Tenger shook his head, I added, “Then leave us alone. I need privacy to do this.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t need the privacy, but I wanted it, and certainly wanted it from Tenger.

  “Trina will stay—” Tenger began.

  “Alone!” I snapped.

  Joth began directing him and Trina toward the door, with both of them now asking who he was. When they left, Joth closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with Basil.

  I warmed the clearstone in the room, brightening its light, then immediately set to work. Basil’s cheeks and eyes were sunken in, and his neck was so thin, I wondered how it held up his head. I placed one hand over his heart and felt a faint, reluctant thump, each one slower than the one before it. He was within minutes of death.

  No sooner had I connected with Basil than I drew in a harsh gasp, sensing just a portion of what had happened to him, what was still happening. Endrick had tortured him physically, but there was also an internal torture I didn’t fully understand. It was twisting his soul, causing a torment I also felt in my own flesh. I would have to take as much as I could to have any chance of saving him.

  I began with his heart, giving him strength until his pulse evened out. He wasn’t out of danger yet, but I didn’t want to give him too much too fast, for both our sakes.

  Then I drew in some of the curse, which seemed to create holes within me that could not be filled by anything other than the ice that was already there. Allowing the ice to expand was the only way I could continue my work, but even then, I finally could do no more.

  No more than half, never more than half.

  While I rested, I noticed a washbasin on the table beside him. I took the rag and tenderly washed Basil’s face, then poured a few drops of water into his mouth.

  I gave him a little more strength after that, until his chest began to rise and fall with the deeper breaths he was taking. I was fairly sure I sensed some broken ribs, or hopefully they were only badly bruised, but I couldn’t heal them as completely as Loelle would. I could only give him strength to live.

  I continued to give, feeling myself weaken, especially because it hadn’t been long since I had helped Darrow. And finally, I knew I had to quit, or I would have nothing left. I laid my head on the side of Basil’s bed and fell asleep.

  Sometime very early in the morning, I felt a hand in my hair. Startled, I sat up straight and saw Basil watching me. His smile was thin and weak, but it was there. He was clearly struggling to keep himself awake, and he seemed to be having trouble speaking.

  I reached for a cup and offered him more water. He took a few sips, then almost mouthed the words as he whispered, “Olden Blade.”

  “Did you tell them where it is?” I asked. “Do they know?”

  His eyes darted to the right and fear passed through them, but when he looked back at me, he shook his head, very faintly.

  “Can you tell me where it is?” I asked.

  He nodded and motioned for me to lean in closer, which I did. His head dropped back on the pillow, and for a moment, I was sure he had fallen asleep, but then I heard the words Lily’s grave.

  I knew the exact moment when Kestra arrived. I felt it in Rawk’s arrival, his landing behind Woodcourt like a soft thud in my chest. But even more, I felt her nearby. I made a move to stand and greet her, but Harlyn put her hands on my shoulders and pressed me back into the chair. “I have to bind this wound. Do you want to bleed all over her for a greeting?”

  She was being kinder than she needed to be, which only worsened the guilt I felt. But maybe that was because she felt guilty too.

  While she worked on my shoulder, the guilt must have become too much, for when she spoke, it was with one long breath that sounded as if it had been rehearsed. “Before you speak to Kestra, I ought to tell you something. The night she left Nessel, I wasn’t part of the plan, but I knew of it.”

  She waited for me to respond, but my chest had tightened and I didn’t trust myself to speak. If I did, I was sure we’d both regret what followed.

  Finally, she continued. “She came into your room and saw the infection in your arm, how sick it was making you. I spoke with Kestra myself. I’m the one who convinced her to leave.”

  “And what did you say to her?” My tone was flat, the best I could manage in that moment.

  “She wanted to help, but we couldn’t let her, not without knowing what it would do to you.” Harlyn paused. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, but I’m certain what I said was hurtful.”

  At first I couldn’t answer her, or even organize my thoughts to speak. All this time she had deliberately concealed this information, no matter how many times I had asked, or even insisted that I knew she was holding something back. I wondered if she would have told me this much if Kestra had not come.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I mumbled.

  “To protect you.” She finished tying the bandage, then sat i
n a chair in front of me. “I meant what I said earlier, Simon. She could not be trusted then, no matter how much she loved you, and she cannot be trusted now. I’m here to protect my king, even if that means protecting him from himself.”

  “You had no right to do that!”

  If she noticed my anger, it didn’t seem to bother her. With an overly calm voice, she replied, “I had the obligation to do it. And I hope one day you’ll understand that.” She bit her lip as she considered what else she might say to excuse herself but must’ve come up with nothing. All she said was “We should join the others.”

  That was the last thing I wanted, but if Kestra was going to be discussed tonight, I needed to be there. So I walked with Harlyn into a small dining room, where most of the Coracks had already gathered. I no sooner had taken a seat near Gabe when Tenger and Trina walked in with a boy our age with long black hair tied behind his back, reminding me of Gabe. But this boy’s eyes were sharper and darker, and seemed to be making a quick assessment of everyone present. I was assessing him too, wondering about his weapon of choice. Everyone in Antora had one, but he didn’t have the build of a person who was accustomed to the violent life in Antora. His hands appeared to be capable of work, but they looked too soft to be a farmer’s or a fighter’s, and he wasn’t well-dressed enough to be of the upper class. I was genuinely curious.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “His name is Joth Tarquin,” Tenger said. “Claims to know Loelle.”

  Joth grimaced. “Actually, what I claimed is that Loelle is my mother. She sent me here with Kestra, for Kestra’s protection.”

  That got my attention. “Protection from whom?”

  Joth gestured around the room. “All of you.” His gaze returned to Tenger. “You’re the captain. You want to kill her and replace her with—” He pointed at Trina. “Replace her with you, is that right?”

  “That’s not the plan,” Trina said, though I knew at least part of what Joth said had to be the plan. Tenger could not afford to let Kestra leave here, as unpredictable as she would be with corrupted magic. The only question was whether Trina was in on the plan.

  Joth looked at me next. “You’re Simon. Do you still love her?”

  The question stole the breath from my lungs. I hadn’t admitted my feelings aloud to anyone but Kestra. I wasn’t sure what my feelings were anymore, and I certainly didn’t know how she might feel about me.

  “I want to see her,” I said, immediately angry with myself for making it a request, as if I needed Joth’s permission.

  Ignoring me, Joth merely turned to Harlyn. “And you’re the girl that Simon is supposed to marry. I assume that hasn’t happened yet.”

  Before Harlyn could answer, Tenger said, “You seem to know more about us than we know about you. What race are you and Loelle? Not Endrean?”

  Joth scoffed. “We’re the Navan, or what remains of our people after we were scattered by war.”

  “You have magic?” Harlyn asked.

  “Yes, but it doesn’t corrupt like the Endreans’. Since we are working together, more or less, I need to tell you something. Even Kestra does not know this yet. I didn’t want to alarm her if it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Yes?” Tenger stepped forward, arms folded.

  “As Kestra and I flew here on that dragon—”

  “My dragon,” I cut in.

  Joth glanced at me. “As Kestra and I flew here on Simon’s dragon, about halfway between the forest and Highwyn, I saw an army just outside the capital, coming from the east. Their flags were white, but almost translucent, and they appeared to be armed for war.”

  “The Brill,” Tenger said, then tugged at his beard. “How close are they?”

  “Within the day,” Joth said. “Do they come as allies or enemies?”

  “I don’t know.” Tenger eyed me with a warning to say nothing more to Joth, as if I would.

  “Why didn’t you tell Kestra about it?” Trina asked. Maybe she didn’t get the warning glare of silence from Tenger.

  Joth folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “From what Loelle has explained, it’s obvious that Kestra has only a few allies, and even fewer friends. I didn’t want to alarm her until I knew whose army I’d witnessed. Whatever the Brill are to you, they are no friend to Kestra.”

  That was true enough.

  Tenger said, “Kestra does have friends here, but we must know the truth about her. Has the corruption within her spread?”

  Joth hesitated before saying, “The price of removing the curse from All Spirits Forest was high. Of course it has affected her.”

  I sat up straighter. “She’s been taking in the curse? You lecture us on friends and allies and that’s what you’ve been doing to her?”

  “What we’ve been doing is her best chance to succeed as Infidante, possibly her only chance. And Loelle has a plan to remove the corruption. If she survives—” He stopped abruptly, as if he had said more than he intended. Then he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sure Kestra will be exhausted once she is finished with Basil. I don’t want any of you going near her room. I’ll know if you do.”

  “That’s not your decision,” Tenger said. “Basil was rescued by us and has information that we desperately need. The Coracks are in charge here, not you—”

  “I don’t claim to be in charge of Basil or your general affairs,” Joth said. “But I am charged with Kestra’s protection and I do not trust any of you. So you will stay away from her room or pay the price for it.”

  Gabe opened his mouth to object, but I asked Joth, “Are you guarding that room tonight, then?”

  “I am, and when she is ready to leave, I will see that she gets away from here safely. None of you will stop us.”

  “We wouldn’t think of trying,” I said, to shocked expressions from the others around me. I knew how it sounded, to be so quick to give up Kestra’s defense, not only to a stranger, but to a stranger who was ordering us around like hirelings. Even Harlyn nudged me, saying that we had no reason to trust this boy, and I didn’t.

  But I trusted Tenger even less. I knew Kestra’s fate if she remained here. With my injuries, I wouldn’t be much help in protecting her, and I didn’t trust anyone around me with her safety. As frustrating as it was to hope for anything from this arrogant person, he was probably the best chance she had to walk away from here.

  Joth nodded at me, as if we had come to an agreement that he felt he had earned. He said, “Perhaps you do love her, Simon, for you have shown the purest kind of love possible just now, to acknowledge that she is better off without you. I promise, I will take care of her.”

  My fists curled, but before I could retort, he had exited the room.

  “We can’t let her go anywhere with him,” Trina said as soon as the door closed.

  “Of course not. Once she heals Basil, she will get the location of the Olden Blade.” Tenger turned his attention to me. “You have her trust more than any of us. Keep her here until we can safely recover the blade.”

  And then they would kill her. If there was any hope of finding a solution for Kes, I needed to be involved. So I nodded, saying, “I’ll keep watch outside Basil’s room.”

  “Stay out of Joth’s way as you do it.” Tenger saw me about to object and added, “You’re in no condition to fight him, and whatever happens tonight, it is not about which of you two Kestra prefers. Remember that.”

  I felt Harlyn’s hand on my shoulder. She said, “Let me wait outside the room with you.”

  But I shook my head. “You did enough damage the last time you talked to Kes. We both know that a second conversation would only make things worse.”

  Harlyn shrugged. “We also both know that tonight won’t go well, whether I’m there or not. I’ll stay where no one will see me, but I won’t be far away either.”

  To that, I nodded. Because the truth was, I was nervous to speak to Kestra again. Harlyn was right. This was going to be a very long night.

  Lily’s grave.”r />
  Those were the only two words Basil spoke before he drifted off to sleep, a calmer, more restful sleep than before.

  And I needed time as well to recover my strength, which gave me an opportunity to reflect on those words. Basil’s decision to bury the Olden Blade at my mother’s grave had been a brilliant one. Even if someone suspected the dagger were there, my adopted father never would have allowed anyone to disturb her resting place. Whatever else he lacked, Sir Henry had dearly loved his wife.

  Gradually, I began to feel stronger again, which meant I needed to go after the blade.

  I had forgotten my cloak at Joth’s home and would have liked it now. Not for the cold outside—that wouldn’t matter to me—but I liked the idea of hiding within its folds, of leaving this place with the hood up so that no one would know who I was. If that was not possible, at least I could make some changes. My mother always kept a few of her dresses in my father’s wardrobe, and I pulled out one now. It wasn’t fancy, but it was nicer than what I’d had on before and certainly cleaner. I tied a red sash around the brown wool skirt and coat, and then sat at my father’s old grooming table to properly tie back my hair. Every part of me wished it were possible to stay for the rest of the night and sleep. Just to close my eyes and have nothing to think about, or dream about—just peace. But that couldn’t happen.

  I didn’t even know what peace was anymore.

  Then the cold center in my chest urged me to take the first step out the door, giving a warning to move quietly, to trust no one. It renewed my strength and deepened my resolve.

  I gave Basil a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you.” That was far too little in return for all he had done for me, for the preservation of the dagger, and for all he had suffered to protect that secret, but I could do nothing more for him here. Then I put on my boots and slipped as silently as possible out the door.

  The manor was quiet when I left Basil’s room, the corridor mostly dark but for a few candles left burning in sconces along the walls.