Wielder's Curse

by Elle Cardy

  A smile broke out over Finn’s face. He pulled her in close, and they kissed.

  The kiss felt different than it had before. Power purred between them, the power of a true connection, the kind that only love can make. It felt more fulfilling. She felt more complete.

  She pulled away.

  “What is it?” Finn asked.

  She frowned. “I think…” She wanted to say she was happy, which was a strange thought when it had nothing to do with her ship or the sea. She decided it wasn’t a thing that was meant to be dissected and analyzed. It was something to relish.

  “Never mind,” she said and pulled him close. She covered his lopsided smile with a kiss and let herself taste him, indulge in his presence and his love.

  “My eyes, my eyes,” Gley muttered in a flat voice.

  They pulled apart, and Gley handed them each a square of dark dense bread and a wedge of cheese wrapped in muslin.

  “The finest local produce from Pruma, courtesy of Kristolf and nephew. A thousand times better than Brusan’s gruel. Don’t tell him I said that.”

  “You know I will,” Jasmine said, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “Of course.” She gave Jasmine the once over with a discerning eye. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

  Jasmine’s smile slipped as Gley walked away and handed Brusan his portion of bread and cheese. There was nothing about the girl that said magic. Not a faint glow, not a slight blur, nothing. Even Finn’s magic hummed. Its glow was stronger than when they’d first met. She wondered when that had changed. Was that even possible? No, it couldn’t have been Finn’s power that had changed. It had been her own. As she’d grown stronger, so had her ability to read another’s magic and her hunger for more.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Finn asked, unwrapping the cheese from its cloth. He gave it a sniff and flinched. “I can hazard a guess.” He offered it to her.

  “Brusan will have it.”

  Finn turned.

  An inexplicable rush of panic came over her. “Stay,” she blurted. When he gave her a questioning glance, she had to come up with some excuse. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything,” he said, turning back without hesitation.

  She knew in her heart he meant his offer, even though she’d broken his arm, brought trouble to his life, and nearly got him killed. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore and didn’t know what to say. But she couldn’t let him go either.

  She realized why she needed him to stay. “Show me your magic,” her hunger said.

  Wariness clouded Finn’s expression. It was a shade too close to the look he’d given her after she’d wielded against the men from the Sirocco and Ambrosia, forcing them to leave the Prize.

  “I mean to say,” she said, feeling like a bug under a glass, “show me how you control your magic.” It was a weak save, but Finn had to accept it otherwise she could’ve ruined everything in four thoughtless words.

  “So, you are struggling without your talisman then? More than you let on.”

  She didn’t want to lie, and neither did she want to worry him. “I just wanted to see how you do it. The control, that is. Not the magic,” she hurriedly added.

  He wrapped himself tighter into his cloak. Each day would grow colder as they sailed farther south. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

  Her feet were bare, as always. Finn’s question was a distraction and not the response she wanted. Brusan had been on her case to wear the boots she’d borrowed in Hefnargatt.

  “I can climb the rigging easier without Brusan’s oversized boots.”

  “Have mine,” Finn started unlacing his boots. His only pair. While they would’ve made a better fit for her, they remained too large.

  She stilled him with a touch. “Stop sacrificing yourself for me. You need them more than I do. Besides, I’m used to going barefoot.”

  “I didn’t plan to go barefoot,” and he shuddered. “I bargained on wearing the boots Brusan intended for you.”

  She snorted. As much as the sight of Finn clomping around in Brusan’s boots would’ve amused her, she wouldn’t do that to him. “I’m fine.”

  “You say that too much. I suspect you don’t mean it most of the time. You can tell me everything.”

  She wished that were true. She ran a hand along his stubble. It was soft, unlike Brusan’s thick prickle when he let it grow.

  She wondered what Finn would look like with a beard. “Will you let it grow?”

  He grinned as he pulled away from her touch. “You just want to see me look more seaworthy.”

  “You’re not a boat.”

  “No, I’m a man.” He pulled her in close. His warmth was all she needed. His whole body glowed with it. Except one small patch at his side.

  She stepped away so she could examine him more closely. The cold patch was where he’d been stabbed. “That mark you got when you were attacked, that’s faded by now, hasn’t it?”

  Finn pressed his lips together. A thousand thoughts ran behind his eyes, none of which she could read. She reached for his shirt, and he knocked her hand away. “It’s just a stain, like a scar. Nothing more.”

  “Then why won’t you let me see it?”

  “Because it’s too cold out here.”

  “Then we’ll go below.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He wasn’t fine. The mark worried him as much as it did her. “We’re hopeless.”

  His tight frown relaxed. “Aye, always thinking we can handle everything alone.”

  “Especially when we don’t have to.”

  Finn moved farther from the helm and hatch. There wasn’t a lot of ship left to go anywhere. With his back turned to the others, he lifted his shirt. The stab wound was no more than a thin line of scar tissue. Brusan had done an impressive job looking after him when she hadn’t been able to finish the healing. A black mark over the scar marred the area, looking as fresh and as nasty as the day it had been placed there. In its center was the oil slick sheen of an abalone shell, blackened on its edges. Those black edges expanded. They engulfed the light until they encompassed the world. Fire and water boiled within, churning up a storm. Jasmine’s throat closed on the taste of ash scorching her mouth and nose. The Beast roared, its furious cry ringing in her ears.

  A hand clasped her wrist. Warmth soaked into her and pushed away the cold. Light shone through the thick clouds of soot. “You’re having the vision again,” came Finn’s calm voice. “Come back to me.”

  The clouds thinned then parted, and Jasmine stood once more with Finn on the deck of the Puffin. She blinked to clear her eyesight and leaned into him. She shuddered with sudden weakness. She must’ve wielded to pull away from the vision and the Beast.

  Finn tucked his shirt into his breeches. “It might be best to keep the mark hidden.”

  “It’s how the Beast is able to track you,” she said, the full realization hitting her with the force of a gale.

  Finn squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath. When he opened them again, he asked, “Is there nothing we can do?”

  Her mind reached for some idea, any idea, that could be a solution. “I could try to heal you.”

  “Your uncertainty gives me so much confidence. No, you can’t go near it. It’s clearly a trigger for those visions of yours.”

  “Maybe Brusan? He has more knowledge on medicinal poultices than he does recipes for the crew’s meals. He might know something to put on the mark.”

  Finn’s gaze strayed to the large man at the wheel. “He’s tried already. Back when I was being foolish and keeping you at a distance, Brusan and Marcelo were the only ones I’d allow to visit. Both tried a number of poultices until I put a stop to it when Marcelo suggested leeches.”

  “What’s wrong with leeches?”

  He opened his mouth, likely to explain the archaic practice, when she grinned. He caught her up, and she laughed. She didn’t know why she laughed when the mark on Finn cou
ld draw the Beast and its phantoms. Yet, knowing it was a beacon didn’t change their situation. It had always been a beacon whether they’d known it or not. A little laughter could be a current of change though. It could lighten their hearts, if only for a short while.

  “Your laugh is the song of angels,” Finn said.

  Jasmine snorted.

  “As is that snort.”

  “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “It’s not a lie.” And he pressed his hand to his heart, looking solemn and serious and so very kissable. She leaned in for that kiss, when he pulled away. “Gley,” he said like a pounce.

  How to kill a moment.

  “Gley healed my broken arm. Maybe she can do something about the mark.”

  The girl also knew about the Beast. It made sense. It could be possible. Not wanting the little spy to come between them, Jasmine leaned in and kissed Finn. His lips were cold from the wind, but they were soft to the touch, his breath warm and inviting. When she pulled away, he slowly opened his eyes, and his grin grew wider.

  “Let’s go find Gley,” Jasmine said.

  This time Finn was the one who looked disappointed.

  Chapter 38

  The cramped hold of the Puffin smelled like fish oil, dust, and body sweat. The stench turned Jasmine’s stomach. Dras and Brusan had stayed topside. Gley had settled on the bench seat in the aft, wrapped in a woolen blanket. She wolfed into a jar of what looked and smelled like salted cod.

  Finn strode up to Gley. “Think we know what’s attracting the phantoms.”

  The girl paused her chewing. Grease shone on her chin. She swallowed, put down the jar, and wiped her mouth with a square of cloth. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

  Finn lifted his shirt. His back was to Jasmine so she couldn’t see his mark, yet still the vision fought to take hold. She held on to the narrow rung of the ladder and concentrated on the back of Finn’s head.

  Gley shot to her feet, the blanket falling to the bench. “Cover it up.”

  Finn obeyed. “Can you do anything? Heal it, maybe?”

  “How long have you had it?”

  “Since I was stabbed on the Prize.”

  Gley swore in another language, the same language Dras had used in Hefnargatt. Jasmine suspected it was their native tongue. It had her wondering again where the girl came from.

  “I’m not sure I can,” Gley said.

  “You have to try,” Jasmine said, tightening her grip on the ladder to steady herself. “The phantoms will keep coming for us if you don’t.”

  The girl stared into the middle distance, her expression pinched.

  “We may not have a lot of time,” Finn said.

  Gley held up her petite hand. “Let me think about it some more.”

  “What’s there to think about?”

  “If that mark is a direct connection to the Beast, then I need to work out how I would go about closing the conduit. It would be both dangerous and tricky.”

  Finn gave her a reluctant nod. “The others should be informed before we do anything.”

  The disappointment that Gley wouldn’t immediately wield in front of her, dragged on Jasmine’s mind and body. It felt like she was being sucked down into a depthless ocean. Her rational brain knew it was an overreaction. She knew it came from her uncontrolled magic burning for more. She knew this was what Kahld had felt when his power became a curse. She also knew she had to fight both the pull and the weakness that wanted to consume her.

  Without a word, she hauled herself up the ladder and stepped out into the bitter air. The wind against her face was a slap. She needed to get control over herself, otherwise she had no hope of defeating the Beast.

  “I’ve seen that look before,” Dras said next to her. She hadn’t heard him approach.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped.

  Dras laughed. “I’ve heard that before too. A different time, a different place, the same untruth.”

  Before he could give her some sage advice she didn’t need to hear, she said, “Gley wants to see you.”

  Something in his eyes flashed. Without another word, he went below deck.

  Brusan pulled on the wheel. “That was cruel.”

  “Don’t know what you mean.” The little boat lurched in the wind as she cast around for somewhere where she wouldn’t be bothered. There was nowhere. The Puffin was too small, and there was nowhere to hide.

  “Didn’t say I disapproved,” he said with a dark grin.

  Gley had been doing her best to avoid the scarred man. When Dras was topside, Gley was below. When he was below, Gley was topside. Whatever history they shared, it was a rocky one.

  Jasmine went to the railing and stared out at the churning slate sea. She held on as if the Puffin was her Prize. Icy sea spray chilled her skin, but she didn’t flinch. She reveled in it. No matter where she was, who she was with, no matter what dangers she faced, the sea was her home. No one could take that from her.

  That thought brought her strength. It filled her limbs and calmed her breathing. A sense of peace settled over her, the same sense of belonging when she was on her Prize.

  She lifted her hands and stepped away as if the railing had been on fire. She felt strong when she shouldn’t. This kind of strength came from her Prize. She cast about at the surrounding ocean, half expecting and half hoping to see the Wielder’s Prize cresting a wave. There was nothing out there but dark clouds and rough waters. She hadn’t just made the Puffin her new talisman, had she? Was that even possible after only a day on the craft? Yet there was no denying the strength that flowed through her.

  Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the Puffin’s railing. The wood had been painted white multiple times, the chipped layers and years of wear showing through. It felt rough and cold under her fingers. She tried drawing her magic from the boat. Nothing happened. She tried again, to be sure. Still nothing. To make sure it wasn’t her, she drew magic from her talismans. The bolt, the cloth, the swivel, and the mermaid filled her with a weak magic. She let that magic return to the objects and took a breath of sea-soaked air. She hadn’t made a new talisman. She shook her head at her foolishness. The strength must’ve come from her feeling at home on the sea.

  The hatch banged open, and Gley climbed out, closely followed by Dras.

  “You can’t do that,” Dras cried.

  The wind whipped through the loose strands of Gley’s silver hair. With the dark clouds and black sea behind her, she resembled a mystical sea nymph. “I have to try.”

  To give them space, Jasmine joined Brusan in the wheelhouse.

  “Those two fight like an old married couple,” he muttered.

  Being on a ship all her life, she had no idea how married couples acted. It didn’t seem like something she wanted for herself.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Dras said.

  Brusan straightened. “Any idea what they might be arguing about?”

  Jasmine explained what she’d discovered about Finn’s mark and their hope that Gley could remove it.

  Brusan made a small disapproving sound.

  “You don’t think we should remove it?” She would’ve thought Brusan would be eager to be rid of the beacon that led the Beast to them.

  “It’s been on the lad so long, messing with it now while we’re stuck on this boat in the middle of rough waters don’t sound smart to me. I have to think of the safety of this ship and our people.”

  “You sound like Durne.”

  Brusan grinned. “Much obliged.”

  She was about to tell him it wasn’t a compliment then stopped. Durne had been right about so many things. She’d been too busy feeling sorry for herself to hear him. It was smart to wait. It was important to remember they were vulnerable out there with no help in sight. As much as she loved the ocean, it was a dangerous mistress. What warning did the rock fishermen live by? Never turn your back to the sea.

  “I don’t care what you think,”
Gley yelled. “You’re not my keeper. I’m doing this, and I’m doing this now.” She pushed past Dras to return to the hatch. He caught her upper arm. Gley glared at him and lifted a hand.

  Licking her wind-chapped lips, Jasmine was certain the girl was going to wield against Dras. When she should’ve been separating the pair, she moved closer in anticipation. Brusan growled and lumbered past. He planted himself in front of the arguing pair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He didn’t need to say a word; his glare said it all. Gley lowered her hand, and Dras let her go.

  Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she strode forward. “We should wait. Just until we make it to Yactun.”

  Gley threw her gaze skyward. “Moments ago you were eager for me to clear the mark, and now you want to wait? We’re all in danger.”

  “We’re all in danger regardless,” Jasmine replied quietly and returned to the wheelhouse. She was shaking. Too desperately, she’d wanted to see Gley wield. To see it, she would’ve let the girl hurt Dras.

  Kahld had it easier. Without morals, he did what he pleased. Granted, if he’d been left unchecked, he would’ve destroyed the world, but she didn’t care about that detail right then. Until she could deal with the Beast — for better or for worse — nothing could go back to normal.

  Brusan hovered in the doorway to the wheelhouse. Jasmine couldn’t make eye contact.

  “You did good,” he said. “Gley agreed to wait.”

  She’d never sought praise from the man, or yearned it, but she did appreciate it. More than she thought she would. She also appreciated his attempts to restore a connection with her when she’d given him nothing in return. He was trying. That was what mattered. She rubbed her arms.

  “You cold, lass? You can have my jacket.”

  “I’m not cold. I’m weary.”

  “Aye. I fear what’s ahead too.” Brusan being afraid was an unsettling concept. Fear didn’t fit the man. No, that was a lie. Everyone was afraid of something. He’d been afraid of Kahld’s disapproval. He was afraid of losing Jasmine, and of course, he was afraid of the danger ahead. As he should be. They were headed to some unknown land on the word of a stowaway spy to somehow fight and end an immeasurably powerful creature.