Spells of the Curtain Volume One

by Tim Niederriter

  “Brosk told me about what happened to that village. The people there must have been desperate. Who knows why they would submit to becoming what they are now.”

  Chelka glanced at Edmath with a question in her eyes. Edmath had not had a chance to talk to her alone for some time, and he had not told her about the boy who had died on the levoth the day after they’d left Lexine Park. She deserved to know, but he hadn’t wanted to mar their union or reunion with such darkness. Now there was no avoiding it.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t see a chance to tell you,” he said. “If I’d known they’d come here, I would have been open with it. But what happened at that village on the Dreamwater, I do not really know.”

  “It’s fine Ed.” Chelka’s tone was chilly, her annoyance apparent. “For now, I have to worry more about Roshi.”

  They finished eating their apples with only the crunch of their chewing to fill the silence. Edmath hoped she could forgive his secret. He had not really meant to keep it, regardless.

  Oresso walked back up the path to the High Castle without a word, leaving Edmath and Chelka under the tree. They sat that way for a while, wind tugging at their hair and regas. Finally, Chelka took the grip of her stethian. She stood up, arms folded against the cold wind.

  “Let’s go get some rest, Ed.”

  “Good idea, Chelka.” Edmath got to his feet and picked up his stethian while wishing the wind would stop blowing.

  He knew it would not bow to his desires. He tentatively put his arm around Chelka as they walked and when they reached the Saale Palace, she put her head against his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you about the villagers sooner.”

  “That’s true, Ed. Yet, we survived. I forgive you.”

  “Thank you.” He almost choked on the words. He felt as if he needed to cry. “I’m a mess.”

  “You know, I think you only look better now,” she whispered in his ear.

  Edmath gave a blink of his eyes. “I should bathe, at least.” They walked up the stairs into the hall with Edmath’s room. “I’m not sure about you.”

  “What? his smell doesn’t bother you?”

  “Except for the hints of blood and violence? No.” Edmath pushed his door open. “To be sure, I’m having a problem with that dress, two days in a row for wedding garb. That is just bad luck.” He slipped around in front of her and they touched noses, then lips, then hands.

  “Maybe we should tell our families we’re alright.”

  “Maybe the War Empress will take care of that, my dear.”

  “For now we could leave it to her.” Chelka nudged him backward toward the bed. “Trust me on this, Ed.”

  “I trust you.” And they kissed again.

  A palace cat slunk out from one side of the bed and looked up at them. “New mates,” said the cat in the cat language. “Insufferable.”

  Chelka frowned at Edmath. “What did it say?”

  “Oh,” Edmath smiled at her. “He wishes us well.”

  The cat stalked to the door, nosed it open, then slipped outside. As the animal went, Edmath heard him murmur, “Insufferable.”

  The next day they awakened together. Chelka borrowed a fresh set of clothes from Razili Nane, while Edmath changed into a short-sleeved tunic for the humid day. They went to visit Brosk in his chamber of the Great Hearth. They were met halfway there by a messenger from Zemoy Benisar, who gave them a look of disapproval after they told him when they had returned.

  “You know, your father was very worried, good Lady.”

  Chelka grinned at Edmath.

  “He will forgive me.”

  Edmath chuckled.

  “I daresay he will.”

  She shrugged a shoulder.

  “I am married now. Tell him not to worry so much.”

  The servant gave a nervous smile and looked between Edmath and Chelka.

  “Very well, my lady. Forgive me for overstepping my bounds.”

  Edmath wondered if the messenger, a commoner with a black sash, dared say what he really felt to Chelka.

  “Just don’t do it again.” Chelka didn’t stop grinning. “It could get tiresome.” She walked past the nervous servant and they made the rest of their way to the Great Hearth.

  Zemoy Benisar came out of the doors followed by Chelka’s brother, Jeref, and her oldest sister, Bassa. They all took turns hugging her and telling her how relieved they were. Every time they asked what had happened to her and Edmath since the wedding, she replied with a simple wave of her hand.

  “We protected his grace. He came back with us, and we are well.”

  “You returned too late to abate our fears so easily, sister.” Bassa rolled her eyes at Chelka.

  Chelka frowned.

  “It was a mistake, Bassa.”

  Edmath stepped forward.

  “Of course. We were tired, far too tired. After arranging an escort for his grace, we planned to see Prince Naopaor, but our weariness was too great even for that.”

  Zemoy laughed and slapped his thigh with a huge hand.

  “Still, we weren’t high on your priorities, were we, son?” He laughed again, huge frame shaking with mirth. “I understand completely. Come inside. Young Brosk is probably anxious to see you.”

  “I was worried about you, Brosk. Now I see you only injured yourself to make time for entertaining women.” Edmath stepped through the door to Brosk’s chamber where Zuria Mierzon and Yezani Rumenha sat in chairs on either side of the bed.

  Brosk propped up his head and gave a pained chuckle. His legs were tied in slings that hung from the ceiling on ropes, and there were small bandages on both his face and chest.

  “You should talk, Ed.” He laughed. “You went to save the High Emperor on your wedding night, you know, like a hero.”

  “But not quite an actual hero,” Edmath said as Chelka came through the door. “At least, I’m not old-fashioned enough to fight alone.”

  Brosk gave a theatrical sigh, followed by an honest groan as he looked at his broken legs. “Well, I’ll recover. The merciful thing about Ursar Kiet’s spell is that at least it makes clean break. If you would be kind and tell me how you escaped with his Grace, I’d say you made my day.”

  Edmath and Chelka related the story for the three others in the room. When they were finished, Zuria put her hand on the bedstead and looked at Edmath over her shoulder, a frown on her face.

  “I knew there must be some reason that little girl, Keve, would be the High Emperor’s only Saale. She has an ability no one else living possesses.”

  “Of course, I was surprised too, but it was lucky she could move us all.” Edmath walked to the window on the opposite side of the room and Chelka sat down in a chair by the foot of Brosk’s bed. “It seemed to take all she had, though, for she collapsed upon our arrival in Hessiom.”

  “So interesting.” Yezani closed her eyes. “I almost wish I had been there. As it was, of course, I mostly watched Oresso Nane’s stethian in action. Those tools are deadly. I almost wish I had one of the terrible things.”

  Edmath turned away from the window, putting his hands on the sill behind him. Yezani’s words were true from what he’d seen. Chelka’s stethian clearly strengthened her magic in addition to absorbing the sickness from those she killed. He shivered. Some theorized that ordinarily, Saale killing sickness came from drawing in the ghosts of the slain. Perhaps that meant the stethian absorbed the ghosts itself. He desperately did not want to bring up that theory.

  “We could not have reached the High Emperor without ours,” he said.

  “Say, Edmath,” Brosk said. “Kassel Onoi gave you those, did he not?”

  The thoughts of stethians and Worm Kings felt dizzying. Edmath put a palm to his forehead.

  “He did. Of course, I see your point. He should have known we would use them to save his grace. What a poorly planned insurrection that was.”

  “Maybe,” Zuria said, “Or maybe, he wanted you to have them. Perhaps for some other r
eason, true, but perhaps he wanted you to stop him.”

  “Now you are being ridiculous.” Brosk laughed from his bed. “I tell you, that battle was too large to be a fake. Enchiel were attacked, some even killed. We are all just lucky the labs of Imperial Saales weren’t a priority for them.”

  Zuria gave him a sore look and climbed out of her chair.

  “You could be more polite. After all, you barely survived, unlike the rest of us.”

  Brosk’s eyes flicked to Zuria.

  “You weren’t fighting Ursar Kiet.”

  Zuria rolled her eyes.

  Edmath raised his hands in front of himself.

  “Please don’t argue. I’m sure there is a good explanation for why the Worm King gave Chelka and me the stethians. It is simply not worth talking about until we know more. The nation is at war. Quite likely both Chelka and I will be called to serve the army in the field, if not the rest of you as well.”

  Chelka looked at him in surprise.

  “Ed, you didn’t tell me you would fight.”

  He should his head and answered her look with a solemn expression. His fingers clenched.

  “If you go, I will go.”

  He folded his hands in the Hesiatic prayer sign. This was the way he’d chosen. As a man, as a Saale, he would not let Chelka fight alone. Resolve not to leave Chelka was his philosophy. Brosk might see honor in a duel, but Edmath would not see others lay down their lives for him or his nation while he did nothing.

  Walking through his lab, alone for the first time since the wedding, Edmath wondered if the War Empress would accept him into the army alongside Chelka. After leaving Brosk’s room earlier that day, he and Chelka had listened to the messenger read Kassel Onoi’s demands to become High Emperor and be given the Sphere of Humanity. He claimed the High Emperor was dead in the letter his servant read. Zemoy Benisar had taken his most stern tone and informed him otherwise, and sent him back with a declaration of war that Empress Hayel had prepared earlier that day.

  The war would be common knowledge soon enough. Edmath touched the desk by the door and ran his hand along its polished wooden surface. He stepped out into the garden and heard a high child-like voice.

  “Maker? Maker, is that you?”

  An awestruck smile spreading across his face, Edmath turned to stare at the center of the garden where the tree, Orpus Lengbyoi, stood. The seal Edmath had placed on its trunk glowed blue-green. The tree did not move toward him, but its roots coiled and uncoiled through the earth with what looked like poorly disguised glee to Edmath.

  “I suppose it is.” He laughed. “You have grown quickly, good Orpus.”

  “I hadn’t considered it.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice piped from the glowing circular seal in the center of its trunk. “But these other plants are surely slower than I. Also, they cannot move, but that is because they do not have ghost roots like you gave me.”

  “Of course, you are right.” Edmath marveled silently at how tall the Orpus stood, but only due to its speech was he so surprised. The seal he had made should have slowed the tree’s growth, not accelerated it. Some of the red and white-flowering branches were a little off in distance from each other. Lengbyoi was nowhere near as perfectly formed as Orpus Strodusial, but the tree’s colors came through beautifully. It already stood over fifteen feet tall.

  “Maker, I know my name is Orpus Lengbyoi, but what should I call you?”

  “Oh, that is an easy question to answer.” Edmath laughed. “I am Edmath Benisar, though only of late. You see, my name was recently changed because I have married.”

  “I do not understand, maker.”

  Edmath thought about trying to explain to the tree about the animal habit of mating, and the more particular human custom of marriage, but decided against it. It would to the tree no good to know and could confuse it too easily.

  “Don’t worry for now. I’ll explain when we have some more time to talk.” Edmath couldn’t stop smiling. “First of all, I suppose you wouldn’t mind moving around a bit for me. I want to see if your roots are ghosting completely.”

  “As you wish, Edmath Benisar.”

  “Edmath will be fine. No need for my last name, my good Orpus.”

  “As you wish, Edmath.” Orpus Lengbyoi rose up out of the earth, leaving no hole where it had stood and crawled across the laboratory garden to the opposite wall, branches shaking and leaves trembling, but leaving the earth completely unchanged.

  “Wonderful, you appear to be moving through the earth perfectly.” Edmath shook his head with a grin. “If you will allow me to ride on your branches we can visit the outer gardens. Would you like that?”

  “Like that? I would be indebted to you, Edmath.”

  “Not at all. Of course, I will want your help with things every now and then, but your life is not to be spent alone in this garden.”

  Edmath walked over to the Orpus and climbed up to the lowest branch, right beside the seal. As he touched the circle of light, Orpus Lengbyoi gave a whimper.

  “Please, Edmath. I cannot see.”

  “Ah, forgive me.” Edmath removed his hand from the seal. “I never knew how an Orpus tree, like you, perceives the world. I know you hear through your trunk’s internal vibrations, but never knew for sure you saw only through your seal.”

  “It’s no problem.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice bubbled with juvenile mirth. “Hold on now. I will climb the wall.”

  “Very good, you see my intent.”

  “I see better without your hand in my way.”

  Edmath laughed again. He had not guessed the Orpus would catch onto humor so quickly. The seal had done wonders and, with pride, Edmath remembered drawing it. He could only imagine Orpus Lengbyoi’s full potential for intelligence. The tree carried him up the wall of the laboratory and glided over the rooftop of the labs and descended onto the grounds. Edmath stared as he saw Elk Legion troops marshaled on the distant parade grounds. Pennants flew on the end of their lances. They rode broad-horned elk and wore long coats of heavy woven cloth.

  “There,” Edmath said. “Orpus Lengbyoi, take me in that direction.”

  Orpus Lengbyoi did not reply but glided over the gardens, with Edmath clinging to the branch. As they neared the parade grounds the tree squealed with laughter.

  “Animals!” It came to a stop beside the dirt of the parade grounds and Edmath hung on as he lurched forward on the branch. “I’ve only seen birds before, but I think these creatures must be elk. Am I right, Edmath?”

  “You are.” Edmath took a deep breath as the elk riders raced past. Apparently, the information Edmath had instilled in Orpus Lengbyoi was easily accessible. “They are preparing for battle in the south. The Worm King has rebelled against the empire, you see. I will likely join them when they go, my good Orpus.”

  “Join them? You would leave me alone so soon?” Orpus Lengbyoi’s voice came out higher than before.

  Edmath turned and looked into the seal so the tree could see his face.

  “I do not like it, Orpus. You see, I have responsibilities to my nation. You will know that because I put it within your seal. Of course, I do not want you to be lonely. Simply give me time to grow others like you.”

  “You can only do that if you live.” Orpus Lengbyoi shifted uneasily in a way that Orpus Strodusial never had. A ghosted root rose up to the branch Edmath sat on and touched his sleeve gently. “If your duty demands you go, let me go with you.”

  Edmath’s eyes widened. This great tree was no more his child than any of the small animals and plants he had grown in his life as a Saale. In spite of that, he felt responsible for it now. He thought of riding the tree into battle and thought of all the horrible, bloody things it might see with its magic eye. His heart might break to see this young life, however strange, put through such an ordeal. But how could he refuse such a caring request?

  “You can be my steed, Orpus Lengbyoi. You can be my protector and I will repay you with more like you.”

  “I would like th
at, Edmath. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I will try not to, but I feel it is cruel enough that we must leave so soon. You understand, don’t you? I’ve listened to many animals throughout my life. You don’t need a human heart to feel compassion.” Edmath leaned against the branch beside the seal, head down. The elk lancers thundered past, faking a charge.

  He introduced Orpus Lengbyoi to Chelka later that day. She seemed to have sensed his excitement as he approached. She emerged onto her balcony, hair in a dark cloud around her, and looked out at him as Orpus Lengbyoi drew near. The sky turned orange overhead as evening approached. Edmath stood on Orpus Lengbyoi’s branch and waved to Chelka. She shook her head and smiled. “You couldn’t stand walking everywhere, could you?”

  Edmath put a hand over his heart and grinned.

  “I didn’t know how much this tree had grown.”

  Lengbyoi remained silent as it carried Edmath to the balcony. Its seal-eye pulsed, brightening.

  “Edmath,” it said in its child-like voice. “Who is this?”

  Edmath looked down at the seal from the higher branch on which he stood and raised his eyebrows. The spiral of light flashed on the bark, white and violently bright. He looked back up at Chelka recovered from her startled expression.

  “Yes, I should have said. Her name is Chelka Benisar. She recently became my wife and I became her husband.”

  Orpus Lengbyoi extended its ghost roots from the ground. They couldn’t quite reach the balcony yet.

  “Amazing, Edmath. You both seem so young to be married.”

  Chelka laughed, raising a hand to her chin.

  “Men and women are married much younger in the poorer parts of Zel, and in Roshi too from what I have heard.”

  Edmath shrugged his shoulders, looking back down at Lengbyoi’s seal.

  “Of course, we are not old yet either.”

  Chelka put her hand to her cheek.

  “Edmath, what is this one’s name?”

  “It is called Orpus Lengbyoi,” Edmath said. “And it is the first tree to speak the language of humans.”