Chapter 14 #2
“Seems a bit harsh,” she murmured. “Cursing someone for centuries over a single decision. Everyone should have a chance to learn and grow if they want to.”
“Which is exactly what this curse was meant to offer.” The fae woman’s tone was heavy with… regret? Or was that the beginning of anger? “An opportunity to learn.”
“Cursing someone into doing what you want doesn’t seem like much of a learning opportunity either,” the human pointed out, whereupon the fae turned swiftly, her hands clenched into fists around the head of her cane.
“And what are you, that you believe you know so much of curses?”
“A scholar,” she replied, at exactly the same moment that Xavi said, “A human.”
The fae tilted her head as the corners of her lips turned down thoughtfully.
“A human, is it? I have never spoken to one of their kind,” she observed. “I have been away from the world for far too long. But she does not smell of death or violence.”
“Oh, that’s because I’m utterly useless in any form of combat,” the human returned glibly. “I can fish, but the only other thing I’m capable of murdering is a good book. And possibly a cup of tea with a full plate of biscuits.”
The fae blinked a few times.
“But actually,” the human continued, “I think the important question here is, why a bride curse? And why involve Xavi when he was not the one who refused your request?”
The fae woman fluffed her shawl and lifted her chin, rather like a disgruntled bird ruffling its feathers.
“The bride curse,” she said at last, “was to show your king the value of the often overlooked. To open his eyes to his own hubris and help him see…” Her voice trailed off, then after another moment her attention seemed to snap back into place.
“And as for you,” she said to Xavi, “your king required a guardian while he slept. And how was he to acquire a mortal bride without someone to find her? It seems evident that you were close enough and thereby were snared by the curse.”
Xavi felt as if the underpinnings of his entire existence had been removed all at once. All these centuries of torment—of battling the fog and the guilt and the hunger in his own soul—had consumed him only because he was close enough.
He let out an incoherent growl and probably would have done something violent had the human not caught his arm, her head tilted curiously as she regarded the fae.
“How exactly did you end up trapped in your own curse? And is that the only reason you want us to break it?”
“All curses are meant to be broken,” the fae woman answered patiently. “My intent was to teach your king humility and respect. He would be freed once he learned the foolishness of denying my request and corrected the arrogance in his heart.”
Xavi felt her words like a blade through his vitals—cold steel and bitter irony.
“The arrogance in his heart?” he repeated incredulously.
“My king spent centuries fighting for his people in a war we could not win. Gave everything he had to bring us here before our lands were overrun. He was the last to sleep, the last to eat, the last to accept comfort. If he did not understand humility, there are none now alive who do.”
“And yet when confronted with a simple choice, he refused me,” the fae said sternly.
“And so, because you were angry and blind, you unleashed your ire against a man who dreamed only of peace. Who sacrificed everything, including his life, to protect his people.”
“Not to interrupt,” the human once again interrupted, “but I feel like it might be a bit more important to establish how I am meant to break this curse of yours. If you are correct, that is, and I am this fated one your curse speaks of.”
The fae gave an odd shrug. “I believe you at least have the potential to be. Otherwise, you would not be here.”
“Oh?” The human finally lifted her eyes from her drawing. “Where exactly is here? And what happened to… to the other brides? The ones who…” She couldn’t quite seem to finish the sentence.
“Here is the place that I have been trapped for untold centuries,” the fae replied simply.
“Both beneath the mountain, and yet not. A place where magic becomes reality and the fae walk between worlds. And as for the other brides…” She went oddly still.
Her face froze and her gaze grew distant.
“There may be some distinct quality that they lacked,” she said at length.
“Something you possess that could well allow you to eventually break the curse.”
“Something,” the human said thoughtfully, “like… magic?”
The fae’s cold eyes darted away, fastening on the floor and then the wall before finally returning to the human. “That is indeed possible,” she said, and if there was something dark and wintry in her tone, the human seemed not to notice.
“So my dreams,” the human said slowly. “They had nothing to do with the curse. They were a part of my own magic, just as Keldreth said.” Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the fae woman in disbelief. “He was right… I have magic.”
Of all things for her to fixate on when they had just learned such a horrifying truth.
Not only was there no volcano, there was also no one truly fated bride. Only a wretched fae enchantress and her misguided vendetta, with Kel and himself as victims.
Along with the many human women whose portraits now appeared in the heart of the mountain, sacrificed over the centuries in a blind attempt to satisfy this curse. He’d known none of their names, could see none of their faces in his memory, and somehow that felt worse now that he knew the truth.
He’d only ever needed one.
One with magic.
One like Ryn.