The Warrior's Curse

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  Joth was in a chair waiting just outside the door. He stood the instant I left the room, and after a quick inquiry about my strength, he put a hand on my back to lead me out of Woodcourt. We had taken no more than three steps, when, from behind us, Simon called, “Kes, wait!”

  Shaken with surprise, I turned, and there he was, exactly as I remembered him, though it seemed so long ago now. His shirt was half-buttoned to allow for a bandage wrapped around his middle, and his dark hair was a little longer than before and tousled from wherever he’d been sitting before I came. His brown eyes were focused entirely on me.

  My stomach knotted, and I had no idea what to say or do, so I just stared. At some point, Joth leaned over to me and whispered, “I’ll give you some distance, but I can’t let you be alone with any of these people.”

  That shook me into action. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ll stay.” Joth backed farther down the corridor, though he’d still be able to see and hear us, so I didn’t understand the point of his having moved away.

  Simon stepped closer, casting an occasional glare of irritation in Joth’s direction. Finally, his focus resettled on me, which was horrible, for now it was obvious that he had no idea what to say or do either.

  Did he still love me? I wondered. Did I still love him? Had I ever truly loved him? My heart seemed to think so. It was racing wildly.

  I stretched out a hand toward Simon’s bandages. “I can help with that.”

  He angled away from me. “Thanks, but no.”

  “If Loelle were here, you’d let her help.”

  “At one time, I might have. But her magic is … different from yours.”

  I pulled my hand back. “You think if I use any magic on you that it’ll corrupt you too?”

  He continued staring at me, though the expression in his eyes saddened. Yes, that was exactly what he thought.

  Finally, he asked, “How is Basil?”

  “He’ll live … despite whatever corruption I gave to him.” My voice bore more than a hint of anger.

  “Good.” Simon kicked once at the ground. “How are you … after last night? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  “I’ll live too.”

  “Good.”

  Good. This was what we were reduced to. Everything was good. I doubted that was enough for either of us.

  He took one step toward me, and I countered with a step back. “Did he tell you where the Olden Blade is? Is that where you were going now, to get it?”

  “I have to leave, Simon.”

  I turned, but Simon said, “I did search for you, Kes, after you left Nessel. There was no trace of you.”

  Without looking at him, I said, “How long did it take?”

  “Rawk found you, and your shadow. Who is he? A bodyguard, or a captor tasked with bringing you back to Loelle?”

  “No.”

  “Then who is he?”

  “The person who will help me finish my quest.”

  “That’s why we’re here. We will help you.”

  “Oh?” Now I turned, snorting with disgust as I did. “And how long after helping me will Tenger try to kill me too?” Simon flinched, so I added, “Will you help him do it?”

  “No, I will never allow that!” Simon stepped closer to me. “But something must be done before you get worse. Before it takes over.”

  “Who are you to decide that something must be done? I’m fine, Simon. I’m getting stronger. I can defeat Lord Endrick now!”

  “And then what?” Simon widened his arms, seeking an answer.

  “Then I’ll stop whoever Captain Tenger has assigned to kill me. I’ll stop everyone who gets in my way.”

  “What does that mean, that you’ll stop them?”

  Before I could answer, Harlyn rounded the corner, calling Simon’s name. She froze when she saw me, then said to Simon, “We have to talk.”

  Without taking his eyes off me, Simon said to Harlyn, “Not now.”

  Harlyn planted her feet, one hand shifting to the knife sheathed at her side, making it clear she wasn’t happy about being ignored.

  Simon said to me, “If you’re going to get the Olden Blade, let me come with you.”

  Now I stepped closer to Simon, keeping my voice as low as possible so that neither Harlyn nor Joth could hear us. “Do you really believe me to be corrupt?”

  Simon pressed his lips together and slowly nodded.

  “Then what do you think should be done with me?”

  Pain filled Simon’s eyes, and he glanced away, then whispered, “What do you mean you’ll stop everyone who gets in your way?”

  “You know what it means, Simon. Why did you fight all those years as a Corack? Freedom for Antora, was it not? Finally, I can provide that, in ways no one else in this kingdom can. You believe corruption is an evil developing within me, but you’re wrong.” And with that, I was finally able to tell Simon the truth he needed to hear. “You are wrong about magic. You are wrong about me. You never loved me.”

  That last part hit him hard, I could see it in his expression.

  “Simon, we have to talk,” Harlyn repeated. “The Brill are closer than we thought.”

  In response, he took two steps toward her, but changed his mind midway and addressed me again. “No, Kes, that’s not true. At one time, you had everything in you to bring peace to Antora. And you are wrong about magic. It can never bring freedom to our land. It will only bring more destruction and death.”

  I tilted my head. “Perhaps. But it will not be my death.”

  “Simon!” That was as far as Harlyn got before an explosion somewhere on Woodcourt’s grounds shook the earth. I heard something topple and guessed it was one of the walls surrounding the property. Was it the Dominion attacking?

  This time when Simon spoke, his expression had changed. “That’s the Brill. Kes, you can’t be here.”

  Joth grabbed my arm and pulled me in one direction while Simon and Harlyn ran in the other.

  “They’re already here,” I said to Joth. “How will we get away?”

  His smile revealed an eagerness for what was coming. “We have a few minutes, I think.”

  Then I understood. Joth had already issued a command to the spirits who had followed us from the forest. The Brill wouldn’t get in until we got out.

  They were too late to stop me.

  By morning, I would be holding the Olden Blade in my hand. Lord Endrick was living the last few days of his life.

  Immediately after Kestra left, I grabbed a cloak and ran to the stables to prepare my horse, intending to follow her and Joth before we engaged the Brill.

  “Wake everyone,” I said to Harlyn, who raced back into Woodcourt, calling out the alarm.

  Tenger was already in the stables on his horse, but he shook his head when he saw me. “I don’t know what is happening, but some force is blocking us in here. I already tried to ride out to meet the Brill.”

  Undaunted, I mounted my horse and urged it forward, but it took only a single step before it reared up and backed away from the stable door. I tried again, but to no avail.

  “Joth Tarquin!” Tenger said. “This is his magic at work.”

  I slid off my horse and marched back into Woodcourt, taking the nearest exit out of the home that I could find. Or, I attempted to do so. It too was blocked. I pressed forward against an invisible … something that would not let me pass.

  I cursed and banged against the barricade with my arms. The hardened forearm of my right arm pushed deeper into the barricade than my other arm had, and I pulled it closer to stare at it. Since this had happened to me, I had assumed that Rawk had changed the flesh for my interactions with him. But it had to be more than that. This arm was stronger than whatever was blocking the exits from Woodcourt.

  I wanted to understand that better, and to figure out what other abilities I may have with my arm, but for now, I needed to find Kes.

  Harlyn ran up behind me. “She’ll be quite a distance fr
om here by now. We lost her.”

  “But Rawk can find her.” I closed my eyes and tried to locate him with my thoughts. He was on the outskirts of Highwyn, but he knew what I wanted and I felt him start to move as clearly as if I were there with him.

  “All right, so Rawk finds her, then what?” Harlyn asked.

  “He’s not going after Kestra. He’s coming for me.”

  Harlyn followed me into the stables, calling out questions I didn’t have time to answer. I only knew that he was close, and when he landed, I warned her and Tenger, “Get down.”

  Rawk spat fire toward the stables, and at first, it didn’t break through, but then a lick of flame ate a hole in the stable wall. It was small, but it was enough.

  “Everyone, go now!” I shouted, making a run for Rawk. He crouched down as I leapt onto his back, and he shot into the air.

  The flight was easier this time as Rawk carried me into the night sky. I saw the Brill below, prevented from crossing onto Woodcourt’s property as we had been prevented from leaving it. Their army could have been over a thousand in number, and for all I knew, this was just the first wave. The only thing I was certain of was that they had come seeking revenge against Kestra. That was why they attacked Woodcourt, not Endrick’s palace.

  I flew over his palace now. We were easily spotted and disk bows fired up at us, but Rawk flew higher and the disks were little threat to him anyway. Then I heard orders shouted to call for the condor riders. That did make me nervous. Rawk was larger and had fire, but Endrick had a great number of condors.

  So I urged Rawk to fly us away as quickly as possible in search of Kestra. I had no idea which direction to tell him to go, but that wasn’t necessary. He already seemed to know.

  We flew over Highwyn, where the air was thinner and where I was forced to work for each breath. But we were high enough that it was less likely Kestra and Joth would see us, or that Joth could stop us if he did notice we were in pursuit.

  Finally, I caught sight of them, racing as fast as their horses would allow, and side by side. My eye fixed on Kestra, at the steadiness of her course, so intent that she never even considered whether anyone was following.

  And it wasn’t only me.

  With earsplitting screeches, the first condors emerged from their cages behind the palace, but they didn’t fly after me. Instead, they targeted Kestra, seven birds in a V formation aimed directly toward her. On the horse next to her, Joth shook his head. Whatever powers he had that prevented us from leaving the stables didn’t seem to apply here. Which became my first real clue about the nature of his abilities.

  I’d deal with that later. For now, at my first thought, Rawk directed us toward the condors, his long silver tail pointed straight out and his eyes as focused as a hawk’s. The wings of the condors fluttered nervously as we approached, but their riders fought to keep them directed at Kestra.

  When the first of them was within range, its rider withdrew a disk bow and set a disk into the pocket. He took aim at Kestra, and I took aim at him. At my unspoken order, Rawk sped forward, easily skirting past the condors, and as he did, he painted the sky with fire.

  Through the smoke and flame, I saw the tips of the condors’ wings dip unevenly, heard the cries of their riders as they fell, and watched the freed condors rising higher into the air to escape the danger. I let them go. Kestra was my only focus.

  There was still a risk that Endrick would send his oropods out after her, but she had a solid lead on them. Unless she was going a great distance, she had a good chance of reaching the Olden Blade.

  Basil wouldn’t have hidden it far away. He wouldn’t have had the time to do so, and he’d have wanted to keep the blade somewhere Kestra would have easy access to it. And a place that the Dominion could not touch.

  Or would not touch. From my position in the air, I had a good idea of where she was going. And if I was right, then Basil had made an excellent decision in his choice of a hiding place.

  Kestra glared up at me as I flew overhead. She urged her horse to go faster, but she and Joth were already riding at top speed. Nothing she could do from below would prevent me from following her, and for that, I knew there would be consequences.

  Because once I landed, she would demonstrate exactly what she had meant by stopping anyone who got in her way.

  I was about to get in her way.

  Simon had fought off the condors, which was a great relief. And I might’ve been grateful had I not realized he’d done it only to clear the obstacle for his own purposes—to catch up to us.

  As soon as he flew overhead, Joth called over to me, “Is there any chance he knows where the Blade is buried?”

  I shook my head, but deep inside, I wondered if Simon did know. Why else would he have gone on ahead?

  I watched his dragon until the trees above us became too thick to see where they had gone. With such a great beast, Simon must be certain that he had every advantage over me, enough that sooner or later I’d be forced to yield to him, but he was wrong. If Simon did intend to stop me, he would regret it.

  Once we cleared the trees, we entered the Dominion cemetery, thick with gravestones, some of which were as old as Antora itself, and far too many that were the result of our long history of wars.

  “Simon believes magic will bring about more war,” I said. “Do you agree?”

  Joth looked over at me. “I believe that what we are doing will result in only one more death, and that is a good thing.”

  Lord Endrick’s death.

  Of course that would be good, but everything depended on who replaced him. It must be someone who could make Antora into the land it should have been from the beginning. A queen, perhaps, who would earn the throne by virtue of her name, her bloodline, and the success of her quest.

  Me.

  We rode through the cemetery toward my mother’s grave, but in rounding the final bend of the path, I halted my horse, as did Joth beside me.

  Simon stood directly in front of us with his dragon perched on my mother’s grave.

  My fists clenched in anger. “My mother is buried where your foul creature stands. Out of respect—”

  “You are not here to show your adoptive mother any respect. The blade is buried here, isn’t it?”

  “My blade is buried here. You cannot touch it.”

  “No, and you will not touch it, not until we figure out a way to work together.”

  I laughed. “That is hardly your captain’s intentions. I will get to that blade, Simon, even if I have to go through you and your dragon first.”

  “Your magic won’t penetrate his scales.” Simon held out his hand, and his eyes softened. “Can we talk, please?”

  “We already did that.”

  “Yes, but there’s more to say. Please, Kes.”

  I stared at his hand. “I could pull the life out of you.”

  “You could also remember that we were friends. That we are still friends, I hope.”

  I scoffed but dismounted. Even as I did, I wasn’t sure whether I would do as Simon asked, or whether I would teach him a lesson for trusting me.

  “It’s a trick,” Joth warned.

  Maybe it was, but I was prepared for that. Or I thought I was. I took Simon’s hand, and he gently folded his fingers around mine.

  “It’s better if we could speak in private,” he said.

  “Absolutely not,” Joth said.

  I turned back to him. “Wait here, and guard this place.”

  Simon gave a meaningful look to his dragon, and I wondered if he had some way of communicating with it, and if so, if his orders had been any different from what I had said to Joth.

  Still hand in hand, Simon and I walked farther up the road, continuing to round the bend until trees and tombs blocked us from view and the snow became too deep to pass. Once there, he released my hand and I stepped back, realizing for the first time how hard my heart was pounding.

  I gestured toward his right arm, the one that had been injured when I left
Nessel. It was covered by his sleeve, but I’d bumped against it as we walked and knew something about it was different.

  “How’s your arm?”

  He glanced down at it, then looked up at me with furrowed brows. “Is this the reason you left?”

  I didn’t want to talk about that, didn’t want to think about that night again, how awful it had been to walk away from him, not even knowing if he would live. I shook my head and began to turn. “This was a mistake.”

  Simon called after me, “Please, I beg you, just answer this one question.” I stopped, but several beats passed before he continued. “I know who was involved in the plans for you to leave Nessel, but I don’t know why you agreed to it.”

  I turned to him, curious. “Why does that matter now?”

  “It does matter, Kes.” His stare penetrated me enough that I felt his sadness. “Why did you leave? You told Gerald that you wanted to go because the corruption was so bad. But you told Trina that you were forced to leave, and that you loved me.” He licked his lips. “Which was true?”

  My breath locked in my throat. I didn’t know what the truth was anymore. I couldn’t stand so close to him and deny the racing of my heart, the longing to stand even closer. But I no longer knew the words to describe these feelings.

  “You should not be here,” I finally said. “I should not be here, with you.”

  He pointed to his chest. “There is a wound here, created the day I awoke and discovered you were missing. It hurts, every day. So tell me that you chose to leave and I’ll accept it, or tell me you were forced to leave and I’ll fight to bring you back, but tell me something, or this hurt will never heal.”

  “What am I supposed to say to that? This has hurt me too, Simon. Do you know how it felt to ride away after you became king? To know that I’d struck a bargain to keep you alive, but it left you with her?”

  “What were the terms of the bargain?”

  My eyes began to sting, and I blinked away tears. “They would’ve let you die of the infection in your arm. What else was I supposed to do?” When he failed to answer that question, I added another. “During the battle at King’s Lake, you claimed that, if necessary, you would die for me. Is that still true?”