Cursed in Glass

Chapter 1

Kye

Itried to stay away from water, but it wasn’t easy for a couple of very important reasons.

One, my palace stood on the coral reef Lyrei, in the middle of the ocean. Not only was it almost entirely surrounded by water, but every door and terrace here led out to the shore.

And two, I was a siren. Water called to me, no matter how much I tried to stay away from it.

I lived in the vast, majestic Kingdom of Olathana. It was undoubtedly the most beautiful place in the whole of Nerifir, magical and perfect.

The kingdom’s only blight was me, its cursed king.

No matter how much time I spent by the water, I couldn’t do anything that sirens normally did in the ocean. That was one of the many ill effects of my curse. The water no longer obeyed me as it should. Even my song was long lost.

All I did while at the water’s edge was sit on a glass branch of the dead coral, stare out to the horizon, and bask in the sun like a fucking turtle.

I dipped a foot into the waves below and felt only the faintest whisper of the connection I’d once had with the ocean.

The sun warmed my skin. The breeze played with my long hair.

Those sensations were strong and clear, but the caress of water between my toes was muffled, reaching to me as if through a thick fog or a layer of dense wool.

A large rainbow butterfly fluttered by. I promptly leaned back, away from its colorful wings, giving it enough space to continue on its way.

“You don’t want to get too close to me, little guy,” I muttered as it flew by.

Suddenly, the butterfly turned back toward me, probably pushed by the breeze.

“No.” I shifted aside as it fluttered straight toward my bare chest. “Hey, stay away!”

My naked ass slid on the slippery glass of the coral. I flailed my limbs. My fingernails scraped against the glass but found no purchase as I plunged into the ocean.

The water didn’t feel wet to me. It rolled around my body in a thin layer of glass dust, obscuring my vision and plugging my nostrils. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t swim. I was the only siren in this whole damn world who was drowning in the ocean we all called home.

Panic speared through me. The urge to release my fins burned my skin along my spine, my calves, and my forearms. But no fins appeared. They’d been locked under my skin for ten decades now. Frantically, I beat the water with my arms in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.

The water grew thick and heavy with glass dust from the contact with my skin. I used whatever power I still had over it to keep me from going under. But I failed. The water closed over my head, smothering me.

A hand reached from above, breaking through the surface, and I grasped it without thinking. Alarm jolted me the moment the slim fingers curled around my hand. I froze, no longer struggling and allowing the water to close over me once again.

Had I just killed the person who tried to rescue me?

Incredibly, the hand still felt alive even while being firmly clasped in my fingers.

My lungs burned with the all-consuming need for a breath. My body tightened in convulsions, yet I knew I wouldn’t die.

I couldn’t die this quickly.

I was meant to suffer.

Miraculously, the stranger’s hand didn’t turn to glass. It was smaller than mine, more delicate, but very strong. As it pulled, it drew me upwards, out of the water, and back onto the shore.

Gasping for air, I fell onto the ground by the dead coral’s branch.

The hunched woman in a pearlesque gray cloak looked too frail to lift a pebble, yet she held onto me with ease. Deep lines of wrinkles crisscrossed her gray skin, but warm amusement shone brightly in her dark-brown eyes.

“Odine... What are you doing here?” I asked between my panting breaths.

She laughed.

“Did you just take the plunge to save a butterfly, my boy?” she mused.

“Stupid, I know,” I agreed, sitting up.

I realized with a start that her hand was still clasped in my fingers. As the most powerful hag of Olathana, blessed by the power of the Divine, Odene was the only being in this entire world capable of withstanding my touch.

I held on to her hand with the desperation of a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood.

The world around me seemed suspended for a moment.

Even the sound of the waves moved away. The entire awareness of my body, of my very soul, narrowed to that one point of contact with another living being.

Her gaze slid to our connected hands. Thankfully, she didn’t take hers away, probably realizing how much I needed just to feel someone.

I wished I could pull Odine into a whole-body hug. The only thing that stopped me from doing that was the fear that she might mock me, despite the warm expression lingering in her eyes.

“It’s been a century,” she said softly. “Exactly one hundred years today.”

Right, my fucking cursed anniversary. A hundred years of living alone in the palace that I had turned to glass.

All my servants had escaped to the islands nearby, in fear for their lives.

And all my courtiers had eventually migrated to my uncle’s court.

I might be the King of the Olathana Ocean, but serving Prince Arnon, my uncle, didn’t come with the risk of being killed by an accidental touch, like serving me did.

“A century, really? Time flies, indeed.” I smirked, as if I hadn’t been acutely aware of every passing minute of this century saturated with horror, maddening rage, and crushing loneliness.

Odine’s hand clasped in mine had been my only contact with another living being in exactly one hundred years. Even if she did it solely out of pity, I accepted it, gladly paying whatever was left of my dignity for the treasure I could no longer afford—a touch.

Of course, she saw right through me. The warmth in her eyes didn’t cool when faced with my attempted bravado.

“Do you believe the life of that butterfly was worth the plunge, Kye?” she asked.

I felt foolish. I’d acted on impulse, but I didn’t regret the fall.

“It didn’t deserve to die. At least not because of me.” I shrugged, not letting go of her hand.

She nodded with a contemplative expression. As grateful as I was for her visit, her pity pressed heavier on my spirit the longer she stayed.

“If you’re here on a state matter,” I said, “my uncle is in charge of everything now. So...”

I glanced down at our linked hands, finding it impossible to let go, despite my dismissive tone.

Odine nodded again, freeing her hand from my grip in one gentle but swift motion, as if she knew that prolonging it would only torment me more.

“I will stop by Prince Arnon’s palace to pay my respects before I leave Lyrei. But I wanted to see you first,” she said.

“Why?” I held my hand in front of me, with my fingers still curled around the disappearing sensation of holding another person’s hand.

“I discovered a spell that would—”

“Cure me?” I blurted out, momentarily breathless with hope.

Apparently, hope wasn’t entirely dead in me yet. Who knew?

I didn’t care if she mocked me for my impatience. I’d spent a century searching for a way to break this fucking curse. If she knew something, anything...

“No,” she said firmly, crushing my hope at once. “There is no cure, my boy, and you know that. But I could possibly make your life a little easier if you manage to procure some spider silk from the Sky Kingdom.”

“I have plenty of spider silk... Well, I mean,” I corrected myself, “my uncle surely has some.”

“It has to be freshly spun silk, Kye, with the dew of the clouds still woven into the fibers to bind my magic to it. Only then can it become impervious to your touch.”

“Do you mean I’d have a fabric that wouldn't turn to glass when I touch it?”

“Exactly.”

“What for? What would I do with it?”

“Well, for one, you can make yourself some clothes.” She gestured at my naked body.

“That hardly feels important,” I scoffed.

The warm weather in Olathana made clothes mostly unnecessary, even for those whose bodies didn’t turn fabrics to glass. I didn’t suffer from my nakedness. And why would anyone else object to it? The curse had only slightly altered my appearance, not harming my good looks at all.

“Doesn’t it?” Odine tilted her head. “Just think about it, Kye. A layer of fabric between you and the rest of the world would allow you the many conveniences you don’t currently have.

A pair of pajamas would make it possible for you to sleep in a real bed again.

A pair of socks made from the magic silk would let you walk anywhere you want without fear or reservation.

And a pair of gloves would allow you to touch. ”

I inhaled deeply, imagining what it would be like to touch and feel again, even if through a layer of silk. Touch was an ability that everyone had and often took for granted. I certainly had never fully appreciated it until I lost it.

“Where would I get silk like that?” I asked quickly.

“Directly from the Sky Kingdom, of course.” Odine pointed at the cloudless sky above.

I knew one couldn’t see the Sky Kingdom from here. It was impossible to spot even on the clearest of days, despite it always being above us. Yet I followed Odine’s gesture anyway, tipping my head back to stare straight up.

Olathana didn’t trade with the Sky Kingdom anymore. Not after its King Aigle betrayed my great-grandmother by luring her to the Peak of Kings, then murdering her in front of the rulers of the Lorsan Wetlands and the Dakath Mountains.

“We don’t trade with the Sky Kingdom,” I said. “And even if we did, I can’t fly up there. I can’t get off this reef. I don’t even leave the palace anymore.”

“Then send someone to get it for you and deliver it to me right away,” Odine suggested. “For the next decade or so, I’ll be staying in the monastery of the Moon Goddess on the shores of Sarnala. It’s peaceful there, except for the full-moon nights, of course.”

“But whom can I send if not a siren?” I pondered out loud.

Where was I supposed to find another fae willing to do my bidding if even my own people steered clear of me?

“You are the great, powerful King Kye of Olathana. I trust you will find a way, Your Majesty.” Odine bowed, switching from the warm tone of the woman who’d known me since birth to the politely detached voice of a courtier.

She walked away, iridescent mists seeping through her cloak and rolling in a shimmer down her frail, hunched shoulders.

I stared after her for as long as I could see her figure through the thick, multi-faceted glass walls of my palace.

Her visit brought new hope. Only I wasn’t sure if hope was welcome here anymore.

During the past hundred years, I’d tried every “cure,” every spell, and every potion in many fruitless attempts to break or reverse the curse.

All I had to show for it were the numerous glass statues of everyone who’d attempted to fool me now resting on the bottom of the ocean.

Did I have it in me to try one more time? Could I deal with yet another crushing disappointment if it failed?

Except that Odine didn’t claim she knew how to break the spell. She only promised to make my life a little easier, a little more bearable... A little less lonely perhaps?

In which case, was it even worth trying at all?

Lost to my inner debate, I didn’t notice the butterfly land on my hand until it was too late.

Its wings stiffened and turned translucent, losing all their vibrant colors at once. Its delicate legs immediately broke, with glass being so much more brittle than living tissue. The poor thing tipped sideways, falling off my hand.

“Oh, no...” I reached for it.

But too thin and delicate to exist as a glass figurine, the doomed butterfly hit the glass sand under my feet and shattered on impact, pulverized into tiny shards that were immediately lost in the sand.

Well, fuck...

I failed to save it after all.

Just as I had never saved a single person among the many people I’d killed.