Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  For three days, he hated Talinir. He ignored him when he spoke, deliberately disobeyed him a number of times, and generally avoided him whenever possible. Talinir endured all this with calm and gentleness, and that angered Marshal even more.

  On the fourth day, the craving dissipated, and Marshal felt like a fool. When Talinir offered him breakfast, he accepted it with a smile. Talinir never spoke of his starshine experiment again, but Marshal did not forget.

  Starshine was not enough. He needed to get back to the Otherworld, no matter what it took. The desire to see the stars again overrode even his desire to lose his curse. But the former could not be accomplished without the latter. Whatever Aelia had planned, it had better work.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  A FEW DAYS later, Zes Sivas welcomed new arrivals. Kuktarma’s Lord and existing mages had finally chosen a new Master to replace Master Simmar.

  Master Ganak arrived in the late afternoon with a flair for the dramatic. When his boat neared the dock, he launched himself into the air. A magic-enhanced leap took him twenty feet up and around the same distance forward to the shore.

  “I haven’t learned that yet,” Seri whispered.

  “That is why he is a Master,” Jamana said.

  Dravid stood beside them, leaning on crutches. He had needed assistance to make it this far, but he gained strength and proficiency with the crutches daily. His smile returned as he watched the new Master descend.

  Ganak landed with a burst of energy that sent dust flying. Unlike the rest of the Masters identical in their conservative purple robes, Ganak wore a garment made of a single strip of red-orange cloth trimmed in purple, wrapped expertly around his body.

  Master Hain muttered under his breath, something about tradition. Seri tried not to smile.

  Master Ganak was a tall, powerfully-built man. Compared to him, even Master Korda, the largest of the existing Masters, looked small. He surveyed the gathered Masters, assistants, and acolytes, and nodded, as if their presence was acceptable and proper.

  Master Hain stepped forward. “Welcome to Zes Sivas, Master Ganak,” he announced. “We are all relieved by your arrival. The more wisdom we accumulate together in these dark times–”

  “Yes, yes,” Ganak interrupted. “I’m pleased to be here, as well. Now, who will assist my acolyte in carrying my things? I’d like to get right to work, starting with a full Conclave meeting, if possible.”

  “His acolyte?” Dravid’s smile vanished. “I can’t carry anything.”

  “He doesn’t mean you,” Jamana said.

  Their eyes went to the boat that had finally docked. A young man in light orange robes strained to lift bags out onto the shore.

  “You brought a new acolyte?” Master Hain said.

  “Of course,” Master Ganak said. “As you said, the more wisdom we accumulate the better. We must train the next generation as soon as we can.”

  Master Hain stepped closer and lowered his voice. Seri was close enough to overhear him. “It is not customary to have more than one acolyte at a time,” he said.

  Ganak looked surprised. “I only have the one,” he said. His eyes darted to the side and saw Dravid. “Oh, you mean the disobedient one? I could hardly be expected to take him on in his current condition. I saw fit to find a new learner. I’ll send that one home as soon as may be.”

  “It is not that simple. He is now bound to me.”

  “Hm. Well, perhaps you can find him a job in the kitchen or some such. It is not my concern.” Ganak turned away. “Ho! Master Korda! How delightful to see you again!”

  Master Hain stood open-mouthed. He shook his head and turned back to the acolytes. “Go and help the new arrival,” he instructed. “Dravid, do not take this to heart. We will take care of you.”

  Seri and Jamana shot concerned looks at Dravid, then hurried down the dock to help the new acolyte. The Masters all moved toward the citadel, followed by their assistants. Dravid remained alone on his crutches.

  “Welcome to Zes Sivas!” Jamana called.

  The acolyte looked up as they approached. He was skinnier than Dravid, but about the same height. He had not shaved his head, leaving jet-black curls falling around his thin face. He looked uncertain.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You are the other acolytes?” His soft voice had the same lilt to it as Dravid’s.

  “I am Jamana of Mandiata, and this is Seri of Arazu. We welcome you to our little club.”

  “I am Adhi. Of Kuktarma. But you know that already. I’m, ah, not sure where to take these things…”

  Jamana hefted two of the bags. “We will show you.”

  Seri said nothing, but she kept a pleasant smile on her face. It wasn’t Adhi’s fault he came to replace Dravid. That didn’t make it any easier to like him. She lifted another of the bags and let Jamana lead the way. Besides, she was still trying to figure out how Master Ganak performed that leap.

  Dravid leaned where they had left him. He tried to smile as they approached.

  Adhi’s eyes widened. “Oh! Uh, I wasn’t expecting to meet you. I’m, uh, I–”

  “It’s all right,” Dravid said. “New Master, new acolyte. I’m fortunate to be here at all.”

  After introductions, Jamana and Seri picked up the bags again. “We will escort Adhi to his new home,” Jamana said. “Will you need help getting back to the citadel, Dravid?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  Despite knowing it might be seen the wrong way, Seri couldn’t help looking back at Dravid as they left. He moved slowly, with his head down. It was one of the saddest things she had ever seen.

  They took the bags to Master Ganak’s chambers first, then showed Adhi his room, almost right across the hall from Seri’s.

  “It is not much, but what does one really need?” Jamana said.

  “Thanks.” Adhi looked around, then back at them. “So… what can I expect here?”

  Seri and Jamana looked at each other.

  “Ah, it would be improper to tell you too much,” Seri said. “Your Master will be in charge of your training, and it may be different than you expect at first.”

  “But we can help you get around,” Jamana added. “This place is very confusing at first.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “I’m going to check on Dravid,” Seri said. “I’ll see you later.”

  She hurried away without waiting for a response.

  •••••

  She found Dravid still outside, leaning against the citadel’s inner wall. His hand caressed the filled-in crack from the earthquake. The setting sun cast odd shadows from the outer wall.

  “I don’t believe Master Hain will exile you to the kitchen,” she said without preamble.

  Dravid looked up with a start, then relaxed. “If he does, what could I say? I have no voice in anything any more.” His words were short and bitter, not his usual self at all.

  “You are still an acolyte,” Seri said. “Your senses have attuned to the magic. It’s just a matter of learning how to use it now. Jamana is learning. I am learning. You will, too.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Master Mage of Kuktarma has disowned me. Even if Master Hain trains me to apprentice level, what then? I will not be welcome in Arazu, and Kuktarma will only want mages approved by their own Master. I would be a mage without a land.”

  “That’s still years from now,” Seri pointed out. “And who knows what could change by then? Look, the King may be coming back now. If that’s true, then the island’s population will grow. There will be more of a need for mages to live and work here again.”

  “If. Maybe. Perhaps.”

  “That’s all we have in this life!” Seri narrowly kept herself from shouting. “You want a guarantee? There aren’t any! Everything can change. Everything does change!”

  “You have a guarantee,” Dravid said. “Seri-Belit, next Master Mage of Arazu.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous
. There are several Arazuan mages and an equal number of apprentices all in line ahead of me.”

  Dravid tapped a finger near his eye. “But they don’t have this. You’ll be surpassing them all in no time.”

  “So you’re not just bitter over your own circumstances, you’re jealous of me? Would you feel better if I weren’t here?”

  “I… No, of course not. I just–”

  “I came out here because I care about you! I told you I couldn’t afford to lose any of my friends. I still don’t want to lose you. But you have to want it, too. I can’t care for both of us.”

  Dravid hung his head. “I’m having a hard time caring about anything right now.” He looked back up. “Seri, I have nothing. I am nothing.”

  “You are not nothing! You’re my friend!”

  “I can’t live my life as nothing more than Seri’s friend.”

  They both remained silent. Despite the situation, Seri still found part of her mind trying to analyze Master Ganak’s leap and how to replicate it. She hated herself for even thinking about it when her friend was hurting, but her brain couldn’t leave a challenge alone. Besides, that part of her brain argued, if it were possible to expand that power, imagine what it would do for Dravid.

  Dravid took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I am not good company to be around right now.”

  “Maybe that’s when you most need the company,” Seri said.

  Another silence descended. Seri could barely make out Dravid’s face in the gathering twilight.

  “It’s getting cool out here,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

  Dravid pushed off from the wall. “I guess.”

  Impulsively, Seri grabbed Dravid’s left crutch and yanked it out of his hand. Off-balance, he managed to fall against the wall and held on. “What was that for?”

  “I am your friend and I am going to help you get inside.”

  “So you take my crutch? How does that help?”

  She stepped up in place of the crutch. “So you can lean on me instead.”

  Dravid’s brow wrinkled and it looked like he almost smiled. Still his expression was shot through with pain, pain of all kinds. He snorted and put his arm out. Seri slipped under it and put her arm around his shoulders. Together, they took one step, then another.

  “This would be easier with the crutch,” Dravid said.

  “I don’t care about what’s easy. I care about you.”

  “That doesn’t make much sense, you know.”

  “When have I ever made much sense?”

  Dravid chuckled at that. His foot caught and he almost pitched over, dragging Seri with him. They both regained balance at the same time.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” Dravid said.

  “No. I’m going to be the life of you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  TWO WEEKS OUT from Intal Eldanir, Talinir gave them a rest day beside a small creek. Even Aelia appeared grateful. The past two days had been grueling. Talinir had been trying to make up for the time lost while taking it easy on Marshal. But he acknowledged he had maybe pushed too hard.

  “How are we doing on our timing?” Victor asked.

  Talinir looked up from a cup of tea. “We’ve done well. I’d say we have three to four weeks left to Reman.”

  Marshal, who was rinsing his feet off in the water, looked back at them. That was sooner than he had expected. He couldn’t decide whether to be pleased or not.

  “I have still seen no sign of any pursuit,” Aelia said. She also held a cup of Talinir’s sweetened tea. All four of them enjoyed it now. “What of you, warden?”

  “I saw something a week ago,” he said, “but I am not confident. He will stay far enough back that I can’t locate him for certain.”

  Marshal cocked his head as he looked around. Something seemed odd, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  “Then how do you know he’s there?”

  “A man like that does not give up.”

  Talinir got up and joined Marshal next to the water. “You have the look of a man who has noticed something, but doesn’t know what it is.”

  Marshal blinked. The warden’s intuition was unfathomable. He pointed down the creek. Whatever had drawn his attention was down there. He just hadn’t figured it out yet.

  Talinir walked down stream a few yards and looked around. Marshal scrambled to get his boots back on. Talinir moved further. Their movements attracted Victor’s attention too.

  “Ah, I see.” Talinir waved. Marshal and Victor both hurried to his side.

  Talinir pointed a few yards further downstream. “A large number of men crossed there yesterday, heading south, it seems.” He pointed out broken branches and dislodged rocks. Though not visible from the campsite, they broke up the natural appearance. Marshal nodded, understanding what he hadn’t been able to place.

  “Who would be out here?” Victor asked.

  “Let’s go see.” Talinir let Aelia know their intentions and then led the way across the creek and up the next hill. Victor and Marshal followed eagerly. Talinir’s willingness to investigate surprised Marshal. Secrecy was their usual pattern, which meant avoiding other people at all costs.

  Beyond the creek, the trail of the mystery men became easier to see. They clearly hadn’t been interested in disguising their path. Talinir pointed to some footprints near the top of the hill.

  “At least one horse,” he said. “And maybe a dozen men on foot. Curious.”

  “Are we near any towns?” Victor said.

  “No…” Talinir bent and examined the ground further. He frowned and moved on.

  About half a mile beyond the hill, they pushed through into an open clearing. It took Talinir only a few seconds to determine which way the group had gone from here. They moved through a large grove and up another hill. As they neared the top, Talinir motioned for quiet. The three of them crouched low and then peered over the crest of the hill.

  The trees ended here, opening up to a wide plain that raced down to a large river just visible in the distance. Marshal thought the creek beside their campsite probably connected with it somewhere nearby.

  A large camp stretched out on the plain. Dozens of men moved back and forth between the tents and cooking fires. Far to their left, three squads of men practiced with spears. An armored man on horseback instructed them.

  “It’s a war camp!” Victor whispered.

  “Hardly,” Talinir said. “There can’t be more than two hundred down there. Varioch’s army numbers ten thousand or more. This can’t be…”

  “What? Can’t be what?”

  “We’ve moved further south than I anticipated. That river over there is the Amnis. It marks the northern border of the disputed land between Varioch and Rasna.”

  “So Lord Varion is planning war, after all!”

  “These are not soldiers,” Talinir murmured, his eyes fixed on the men below. “Aside from the leaders, these are nothing more than conscripts. They have little training and less equipment.”

  Marshal watched the spearmen and had to agree with Talinir. Most of them seemed unfamiliar with their weapons. Half weren’t even in a proper stance.

  “What does it mean?”

  “If this were the only such camp, it would mean very little. But I suspect that is not the case. Varion probably has a dozen of these camps lining the border, preparing for the right moment. If Rasna has spies watching their army, they won’t notice these camps. Varion is creating a new army, a conscripted army that he can throw across the border at a moment’s notice. They’ll engage the enemy and keep them busy while he marches in the real army. Most of these men will die, but they’ll have served their purpose.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Lord Varion is a man who cares nothing for human life, except in the sense of how it can benefit himself.”

  “Our next Lord will care more!” Victor shoved Marshal playfully.

  Marshal scowled. It wasn’t funny. He had n
o desire to be a Lord, or to march with armies. The army thing had always been Victor’s dream. He wondered what he thought of it now.

  The army’s general purpose was to be on guard for foreign threats, though there hadn’t been one of those in centuries. Men usually joined the army for only two reasons: gold or violence. It paid well, better than most common jobs. If you could prove yourself as a skilled fighter, you didn’t have to go back to your own family’s business, whatever that might be. That had been Victor’s hope, the reason he spent so much time practicing with that flail of his. Then there was the other reason. If a Lord ever declared war officially, then the Laws of Bindings and Cursings no longer applied for soldiers, at least when it came to violent acts. Some men hoped for that.

  But those were common men down there now, like the men of Drusa’s Crossing. And if Talinir was right, Lord Varion planned on marching them to their deaths to serve his purposes. There was no glory, no honor in a fight like that. And for what gain? Marshal knew almost nothing about the disputed land, but surely it wasn’t worth this many lives. He felt sick as they trudged back to their own camp.

  •••••

  That evening, Talinir kept the fire low. Even though the war camp was a mile away with a few hills in between, he took no chances. Marshal didn’t blame him, but he suspected even the true soldiers in the camp would not have a chance against an Eldani warden.

  Curiously, now that he thought about it, Marshal hadn’t noticed Talinir being distracted by sights in the Otherworld much lately. Had they entered an area where the equivalent lands in the Otherworld were quieter? Or was Talinir simply doing a good job of guiding them while watching for dangers in both worlds?

  “It’s here somewhere,” he heard Talinir say under his breath. Marshal looked up to see him rummaging through his own pack. That was unusual behavior for the exceptionally organized warden.

  Talinir dropped the pack and looked around on the ground. His eyes traveled in ever-widening circles until he noticed Marshal watching. His eyes narrowed and he stalked up to him.