The Twice Cursed

Chapter One

Carys stood at the edge of life.

A large round stone almost blended into the rocky ground, if not for thirteen faint illuminated runes encircling it. Various colors flashed, and she bit her lip, resisting the impulse to fall to her knees before the beauty.

Her companion, Gil, coughed. "This is the portal to the Starlands?"

"Why even ask? The sparkling lights aren't enough of an answer?" She sighed, regretting her sour tone. "Yes, this is the portal to our salvation."

Accustomed to her manner, Gil remained unruffled by her prickliness. Crimson cast over him as he neared one light. "I'm surprised the Star Mages didn't put up a greater barrier. This isn't exactly inconspicuous."

Delicate sapphire shone on her dirty feet as she moved closer. "It's not supposed to be inconspicuous. This is here to taunt us, a reminder that we must dwell in damnation."

He shook his head. "You're making me think the Curselands is an unpleasant place to live."

She fought a smile. The air stank of rot while howls echoed in the distance. Gray and black stone composed the surface, and the sky stayed scarlet. A land of death, yet somehow Gil's humor survived.

The gleaming colors stirred a terrible longing in her. "You also wish for freedom from this damnation, to see an ocean of blue and not an ocean of blood."

He tilted his head, saffron light enveloping him. "I came from a desert kingdom. Blood or blue, an ocean is still a wonder to me."

Sapphire light swathed him as he moved closer.

He wore a black cloak that matched her own, with the hood concealing his preferred white hair, showing a hint of his face.

Younger and sweeter than most in the Curselands, his true face always fazed her.

He was twenty and had memories of a better world, a true world.

There was nothing true about the Curselands.

Gray dust fell from the sky as if snowing ash. She wiped soot from her face, wishing her hood offered stronger protection. "Gil?" She rubbed her eyes, trying to relieve the stinging. "Is it true that the sky in the Starlands is always blue?"

Partly to avoid the falling filth and partly out of shame, she dipped her head. Children asked sentimental questions, not a young woman of seventeen years.

"Mostly. There are rainy lands where it's as gray as this dust." He kicked at a gathering pile of ash. "And come nightfall, the sky is black."

"But there's still light, even at night?" She breathed in the musty air. "Stars?"

"So many." Sadness tinged his tone. "Beautiful dots of light spreading across the night, more than anyone could count in their lifetime."

"I should like to try," she said, hating the wistfulness in her voice. "And rainbows? There are truly colors in the sky?"

"All those things," he said. "But think of what you'd miss if you left this abyss? Why... that delightful stag over yonder!"

She spun at the clink of his sword being drawn. Ash clouded her vision for a moment, then she gulped. She had never seen a true deer, but had studied depictions on tapestries and other images of the noble creature. Their beauty represented a better world.

This creature had nightmarish differences. Twice the size of a true stag, spiky black antlers protruded from the eyeless head. A faint green aura flashed around the antlers, illuminating a mouth full of monstrous teeth.

The Curse Stag tilted its head, the eyeless face fixed on her. It sensed magic, a far greater sense than sight. Carys' enchanted cloak should have concealed her magic.

Her jaw clenched. "Gil."

"I know."

"You said these cloaks would work."

"I know!"

The Curse Stag's mouth opened wide, and sulfurous saliva struck the ground, burning holes into the stony surface.

Carys tensed, ready to run, only for the stag to spring forward in a flash of black and green.

She lifted her arm in weak defense, as any use of magic would lure worse beasts, and fiery breath scalded her as teeth grazed against flesh.

Pain tore through her skin as Gil ripped her away.

She yelped, and his grip loosened. Clashing and clanging echoed as she almost fell face first. She righted herself just as Gil's sword struck fangs and, with a wrenching movement, extracted his blade and a tooth.

A loud growl rumbled, and the stag pounced at Gil.

He swung his sword in defense, and the impact resounded in the desolate area.

Despite Gil's smaller build, there was an unnatural amount of strength behind his blow, sending the beast reeling back.

A chilling screech erupted from the creature, but Gil didn't falter, raising his weapon to fend off another attack.

But his strength and skill appeared pathetic compared to the relentlessness of the beast, each blow putting him on the defense.

Carys' rage and frustration almost unleashed a scream.

Her one weapon would attract greater enemies, rendering her as useless as a damsel in distress.

She searched the desolate surroundings for anything that might help.

Desperation drove her to scoop up a stone and fling it at the beast. Not a fighter, but she had good aim and struck above its mouth.

The creature moved its head at an unnatural angle, as though seeing her with that eyeless face, and released a terrible shriek that tore through her bones. It reared up, ready to rush at her.

Then, heedless of the earsplitting racket, Gil lunged at the beast and, with one fierce swing, sliced through its neck. Still screeching, the head fell. The body continued moving and ran straight for Carys. She leaped out of the path, and the headless body disappeared into the distant, dark forest.

She let out a shaky sigh, only to tense as her magic sensed danger and a silent, small blur sped toward her.

Gil thwarted it with his sword, giving her a better glimpse of the new threat.

A small, wobbling body, black thorns entwined in a gray coat, terrible teeth, and an eyeless visage.

Horror was the common currency of the Curselands, but the sight of a miniature Curse Creature still jarred her.

As Gil drove his blade down on the Curse Fawn, she turned away, unwilling to torment herself with another horrific sight.

The little monster's piercing screech drowned out surrounding sounds. She barely heard her own trembling breaths and almost missed a thump behind her.

Fiery breath burnt her ankles, and she whirled around.

The Curse Stag's severed head propelled toward her, twisted magic moving it in unnatural ways.

The monstrosity forced itself forward, almost snapping its teeth into her leg.

She drew her dagger and thrust it at the abomination.

The blade harmlessly clinked against the antlers, and she yanked her hand away before the enraged stag opened its mouth and lunged.

Self-preservation sparked her magic. As she prepared to release a spell, Gil rushed over and brought his sword down on the head. Black substance burst from the slash, spraying both Carys and Gil with sludge.

As relentless foulness showered them, Gil continued striking until there was almost nothing left. Carys found a large stone and smashed it down on the animated remains, leaving a pile of mush, broken antlers, and teeth.

Drenched in muck, the stench of sludge overwhelmed her senses. She wiped the residue from her face and glanced around for the Curse Fawn. Faint relief trickled when she couldn't find the tiny beast. It must have escaped when Gil fought the severed head.

She lowered her head, hoping to hide her relief. The creature was a monster who would happily devour them, but still so young.

Am I so different?

Her fingers ran through her hair, trying to dislodge beast sludge. Dust and muck coated the blonde strands. She probably resembled a corpse rather than a girl.

"We're fortunate this wasn't poisonous," she said, shaking her hair. "Although we ought to cleanse ourselves before we return home."

"Fortunate?" Gil sheathed his sword and wiped some muck off his face. "I... ugh. This smells like shit. You don't suppose it is shit, do you?"

She scraped the sludge from her hands. "It came from the head."

"It's a Curse Creature!" He spat out some gook that made its way into his mouth. "Since when do they follow nature?"

She shivered. "Don't dwell on it. At least all is well now."

"All is well?" He kicked a broken antler. "Look at yourself, Carys. Your teeth are chattering, and you're covered in... Blood Dragon knows what! I scarce can credit that you planned to come here on your own. As it is, your brother shall kill you."

"I couldn't very well take anyone else." She hugged herself as if that would halt the trembling. "Too much cursed blood strengthens the sealing stone. Having you here is bad enough."

He remained silent as she continued wiping away the muck. "Carys? Do you truly think you can break the seal?"

"I know I can."

"Aren't the Jumping Portals enough?" he asked with a crack in his voice.

She shook her head. "Those only remain open for moments, and it is never certain where they lead into the Starlands. They could lead into a mountain, deep in an ocean or..."

"Falling on two people in the midst of a tryst?"

She rolled her eyes. "Must you make light of this?"

"All right." His face grew serious. "Even if you open the steady portals, it won't do any good. Once someone has spent a year in the Curselands—"

"I know."

He held out his hands, ash gathering in his palms. "If you spend too much time away—"

"I know!"

His hand clenched, dust sifting through his fingers. "Then why bother?"

Carys stumbled to the sealing stone and knelt beside the beautiful lights.

Her body shook as the colorful runes evoked a repelling sensation.

She closed her eyes and ignored the urge to run away.

"The barrier between the Curselands and the Starlands grows weaker as we approach the anniversary of the sealing.

If the barrier breaks, we can easily travel to the Starlands and return before it's too late. "

Gil plopped down beside her with an exhausted huff. "What if we just left now? Leave the sealing stone alone?"

"How would that do us any good?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure you intend any good at all."

"It will be good for us," she whispered. "It has to be done."

"Does it?"

Little sparks jolted her as she ran her fingers over the enchanted stone. "I feel two Starbloods touching the other end of this stone. I sent a calling spell, drawing them here at this very moment. Do you want to see?"

She rifled through her satchel, pulling out a bottle of water and a dish. She poured a bit of water into the dish and passed it to Gil. The scant light of the runes illuminated an image in the water.

Two young people kissed as if it were their first time. The young man moved with eagerness but respect, touching the girl in a tentative, tender way. They broke apart, shy smiles on their faces, before coming together again. A sweet picture of innocent love.

Incensed by the image, Carys' fingers curled. "They've no shame!"

"How vile," Gil said in a teasing tone. "Two young people kissing. The Starlands have grown very decadent."

"They are kissing on our grave," she said, fighting her desire to splash away the image.

Gil cocked his head. "You know we're not actually dead, right? Whether or not this is hell, we live and breathe. We're the living trapped in an underworld, but that doesn't make us dead."

She held up her hands, letting ash fall through her fingers. "Is this living?"

"True." His shoulders slumped. "Although they likely consider it a grave of their people, those who sacrificed themselves to seal the portals."

"Whose side are you on?"

He winked. "The side of not kissing on anyone's grave."

She couldn't laugh. The Curselands had killed her laughter, and even her smiles were almost dead. But there was a part of her that could appreciate Gil's humor.

A small part.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced back at the watery spyhole. The sight filled her with frustration. She had a grudging appreciation for the beauty of the young man's red hair and the young woman's raven curls, but wanted to see the colors beyond them.

"My brother often has me use the Seeing Water to spy." She grimaced. "I hate it. It only shows people and never the true wonders of the Starlands."

It stirred a longing in her, one she could never voice.

The world wasn't fair, but it never hurt as much as when she watched those her age who seemed even younger.

They never had to fight for a meal, sleep with one eye open, or get sprayed with demonic deer sludge.

Free to revel in sunny days, safe travel through paradise, and unconditional parental love, they showed no appreciation for the treasures laid at their feet.

She hadn't lied about her hatred of it. But sometimes when sleep remained out of reach, she wasted a little of the precious water to watch a world she wanted more than anything.

"People can be wondrous." A mischievous grin played on Gil's face. "You ought to target the bathhouses."

"Their false faces are enough. I don't need to see anymore." She gave a disdainful sniff and made a show of looking away. "Do you know who they are?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I can't even see their faces with the way they're carrying on."

"They are the spawn of those who sealed us in the Curselands."

"Them?"

Carys understood his skepticism. Their revolting shyness and eagerness didn't reflect an imposing lineage. "A prince and a princess, descended from those who damned us." She scowled. "They're going to wed. Can you believe it?"

"Princes and princesses are known to exist," Gil teased. "And generally expected to marry each other, barring the occasional serving girl in ashes."

She rolled her eyes. "I was trying to say they will have a ceremonial betrothal in a month—"

"I shouldn't wait that long if I were them." His eyes danced. "If they don't let up, a royal baby will soon follow."

It was true. The sweetness was giving way to passion like fire within the filmy water. "It would be the final insult to conceive one of their misbegotten spawn on our tombstone," she said.

"Royals," he said, as if that was an explanation. "As much as I enjoy seeing people making merry, I can do without this show."

She also had no desire to watch. It infuriated and confused her. The innocent joy of two young lovers might as well have been a different language.

"The betrothal ceremony will not happen," she said.

"True enough." Gil shrugged. "Political arrangements tend to end over the slightest provocation."

She tilted her head away from the dish. "My brother plans to kill them."

He nodded. "That will also end a betrothal ceremony."

The protection wasn't worth anything and the sludge reek burned her nostrils, so Carys untied her cloak and let it fall to the ground. "My brother intends to send Curse Creatures to the ceremony. It shall be a large gathering of the important people from the thirteen Starlands kingdoms."

"Where is the ceremony?" Gil squinted at the dish.

"The kingdom of Dalon."

He snorted. "My former kingdom likely won't bother making the trip. Dalon means little to them."

"They will come." She straightened her ragged dress. "The ceremony takes place on the fifteenth anniversary of when those with cursed blood were sealed down here. My brother says that they mean to mock us with this act. A union between the ones who defeated us."

Gil screwed up his face. "Some would see the irony, but I doubt it was a deliberate slight."

"Intentions matter little. The insult is all that counts." Carys drifted her pale hand over the emerald light. "It shall be their downfall when my brother attacks."

"Your brother sends Curse Creatures to attack the Starlands every year on the anniversary." He rolled his eyes. "It never does much damage."

The light didn't burn, but a faint pain jabbed at her. "No, he sent a few beasts through Jumping Portals. This time he plans to send a horde."

"How?" Gil removed his useless cloak. "Those portals only stay open for a few moments.

He would be lucky to corral a dozen beasts within that time.

And how would he even know where the portal would end up?

This sealing stone is near Dalon, right?

" His hand took on a green hue as he waved it through the illumination.

"If I went through a nearby portal, I might not come out close to Dalon.

I could end up across the world or in the ocean. "

"Yes."

He held his hands up. "Then how?"

"Curse Mage Kieran experiments with controlling Jumping Portals." She shuddered. "My brother is thinking of making a deal with him."

"He can't!" Gil's eyes widened. "Kieran is worse than anyone down here. He is—"

"I know."

"Do you know what he would ask for a price? He would—"

"I know!"

Gil buried his face in his hands, the amber light casting an ethereal glow over him. "Why?"

Her fingers trembled at the strain of touching magic designed to repel her kind. "My brother would have twelve hours in the Starlands before the curse kills him. He means to take his swiftest, fiercest beasts and decimate everyone. Then, if Kieran doesn't betray him, he'll return."

Gil lifted his head. "And Kieran will betray him."

She took a deep breath. "That's why we're here. He won't need Kieran. I'm going to open a sealed portal."

"How will you do such a thing?"

"The seals grow weaker with each passing year. I just need a little blood magic."

"Oh? Is that all?" He snorted. "And I only feared you were planning to dig through with your bare hands. I didn't realize your plan was utterly mad."

She unclasped an amulet from a chain around her neck. "I've the blood of one who made the seal. All I have to do is get their living kin to touch the rune enchanted with their relative's magic."

"And how shall you do that?" He rubbed his head. "They're up there, and you're down here."

She gripped the amulet. "I am already using the blood for a calling spell. Why do you think they are there?"

He smirked. "I thought portals to hell were delightful spots for romantic trysts."

"I brought them here." She couldn't stop a small smile. "Buried alive, trapped in hell... and my magic brought them here."

He clapped his hands. "Indeed, an act of wicked cleverness."

She ignored his sarcasm. "The calling spell should make the spawn touch the rune, especially while we're both at the corresponding sealing stones. Just watch," she said, pushing the dish forward.

The two embracing royals had fallen to the ground.

Caught up in each other, they showed no awareness as one hand drifted toward a rune.

As the corresponding symbol on the Curselands stone glowed brighter, Carys fought the urge to run and opened the amulet.

Blood dripped from it, splattering the light, and the amber flickered to crimson before reverting.

She chanted ancient words to invoke the magic, words that she barely comprehended and burned to utter. Her insides seared as the power left her body, and her awareness grew hazy, the hellish world fading.

Perhaps she fell to the other side.

Rough shaking knocked her out of her muddled state. "I don't think anything happened. The girl is just leaving. I... Carys? Your nose!"

She reached for her face, grazing a warm, sticky substance. "Make sure the blood doesn't touch the sealing stone!" she ordered, scooting backward. "Cursed blood shall taint the process."

"What process?"

"Look..."

She held her breath as one of the colored lights blinked. As the light dimmed, a foreign sensation bloomed in her chest.

She almost thought it was hope.

Hope couldn't survive in the Curselands. The amber light reappeared, brighter than ever, its beauty taunting the dead lands.

Gil sighed, and she flinched. She couldn't bear to face him. His eyes would reflect her failure.

Her heart jumped with another flicker of the light. But she held herself still, unwilling to trust the fair-weather friend named hope.

She didn't want to think about the heaven beneath her feet.