Chapter Three
Carys wanted the light to die.
The amber light blinked wildly before slowing down, each flash like a heart that refused to stop beating. Her hands clasped, nails digging into flesh. She held her breath as it vanished, and no amber glint followed.
She exhaled. The rune remained the same as the surrounding ground.
Dead.
"What does this mean?" Gil whispered.
"All runes must remain enchanted for the portal to stay sealed." Her attention remained fixed on the extinguished rune, a useless carving on stone. "With one snuffed on our end, the rest will weaken. And the barrier weakens every year..."
He coughed. "So we can open the portal?"
"A stable portal that won't disappear in moments. So close to where they shall hold their betrothal ceremony..."
"I feel like this is when you should cackle like a villain."
"Why would I cackle?" She raised her head, confused by his uneasy expression. "Why would that make me a villain?"
"Because you're likely going to ruin their day?"
"I will never understand your peculiar humor." She rolled her eyes. "How am I the wrong one? I am the one sealed in an abyss. They're the ones..."
Gil held up his hands. "Peace, Carys. It was a poor jest."
She rubbed her throbbing head. "I do nothing wrong. They're too busy frolicking to realize what was happening. Law of the Beasts. The weak get what they deserve."
"This would be your cue for cackling."
"Gil..." She struggled to stand. "You are mocking our sacred ways."
"The weak get what they deserve. Hurrah!" He scrambled up, deer sludge dripping with his movements. "What of you?"
She crossed her arms. "What of me?"
"I know you didn't use magic against the Curse Stag because you didn't want to bring the other beasts down upon us. Yet when the severed head came close to taking a chunk of your flesh, you still used none." He frowned. "How much power did this spell require?"
She shrugged. "Not much."
"Carys, your nose is bleeding." His eyes narrowed. Unlike many in the Curselands, he wasn't quick to anger, but even he had his limits. "The spell cost you a lot. Why didn't you make the proper sacrifices?"
"It required no sacrifice."
"Curse Magic always has a cost," he said with a sharp look. "It will come out of you now."
Carys blinked, only seeing a silvery smear instead of Gil. "Indeed? I've practiced Curse Magic longer since I was a babe, but it's quite helpful to hear the most rudimentary truth about it."
"Is this why you didn't want your brother here?"
"By the Blood Dragon, that's not it at all!
" She tried to fight off her nausea. "My brother is busy.
And I didn't want him here for the same reason that I made no sacrifices.
It would corrupt the process. The seal weakens Curse Magic.
A little can slip past the wards, but too much would've nullified the spell altogether. That's why I took you."
"I didn't think it was for my charming smile."
Everything swirled, and when awareness returned, Gil was holding her. "Was that a jest?" she asked in a dazed voice.
"Oh, Carys," he said. "When your brother sees your condition, he'll have my head on a platter."
"He'll be pleased..."
Her throat burned, and she leaned over to vomit.
"Real pleased," Gil muttered. "I should have refused you."
She forced her head up and wiped the residue from her mouth. "You never will refuse me. You have too much need of me."
He gave a cheeky grin. "Maybe I helped because we're friends?"
"No." She stared straight into his misty silver eyes. "You may not indulge in Curse Magic, but there's a reason you're down here. We're not like the fools up there."
"Rotten souls, the both of us," he said with a sad tinge to his tone.
She almost choked on the rot of her soul, although more likely it was the aftereffects of the magic. Putrefaction burned her throat, and weakness shook her.
"We have to get back to my brother," Carys said, her voice distant, as though her decomposing soul had detached from her body. "I have to tell him we have a chance. That he doesn't have to waste..."
Her knees buckled and hell grew hazy. When she opened her eyes again, the sealing stone had vanished. She laid on a softer surface and dreary, gray walls surrounded her.
Her bedchamber. Irritation bit at her. Gil must have brought her back. A weak maiden carried to safety. Loathing rushed through her at the sight of the crimson canopy, its fabric resembling the hellish sky. If it was blue, she could have imagined the true sky of the Starlands.
But she didn't want to imagine. She wanted the reality.
A coughing fit shook her. She scooped up a rag and spat into it. A burning stench invaded her nose as a bloody, dark substance soaked through the cloth. She gagged and flung the foul fabric scrap across the room.
As the reek receded, her mind drifted to the hapless couple in the Starlands. She suspected Gil pitied them, but would never outright say it, fearing to defy the Law of the Beasts.
She felt no guilt. They deserved what was coming.
A thundering boom tore through her ears. She raised her head as her door flew across the room. It slammed into the wall and shattered. A dark bird swooped inside with a screech before landing atop a broken piece.
Carys crossed her arms. "Why can't you just knock?"
As the dust settled, loud, deliberate footsteps followed.
"We've a month to prepare for our invasion of the Starlands.
All of our efforts should focus on that goal.
And what is my little sister doing? Grabbing her shifty friend and traveling through unprotected lands.
Draining herself of magic. Were you trying to end up a feast for the beasts? "
"Meical..."
She angled her head to get a better view. Her brother was a blond wildfire, incapable of being doused. Tall and muscular, looking like he could strangle a Curse Creature with his bare hands. Almost nothing could stop his anger.
Only Carys could stop him. Arguing never worked. He fed off arguments. So she did the only thing that would work.
She smiled at him.
Curiosity crossed his face, and he paused. "What's this, then? Hit with a smiling curse, eh?"
She took a deep breath. "The sealing stone..."
Meical seldom showed surprise. Even now, his eyebrow was just slightly raised. "What about it?"
"I did it."
"You did it?"
"Were you hit with an echoing curse?" Carys did her best to sound undaunted. "You want a steady portal for your attack? It's done."
Most were never sure of what Meical was thinking. And not because his cursed black eyes made it difficult to judge emotion. He was skilled at thinking one thing and appearing like he thought another. But she knew the possibilities would whirl around his head and assumed the news elated him.
His frown surprised her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She shrugged, ducking from his gaze. "Curseblood strengthens the seal. You would insist on sending more protectors, if not coming yourself."
"I'd have still provided you with better protection than Gil."
Miffed by the insult to her comrade, she gritted her teeth. "Who in this damned land can fight better than Gil without relying on Curse Magic?"
"You could have died."
"Law of the Beasts. The strong take chances and survive." She lifted her head with defiance. "I took a chance, and it worked."
Meical couldn't argue when she invoked the law. But jagged black lines cracked into the wall, painting the stone with his anger.
She forced herself to sit up and hoped her trembles went unnoticed. "It worked! This is what you've always wanted. All my life, I've heard you speak of what you'd do if the portal stayed open. It could change everything."
He scooped up the bloody rag from the floor. "Not at the expense of your health."
She turned away. "It's not so bad..."
"Did you perform a sacrifice before the spell?" he asked with gritted teeth.
"I couldn't," Carys said quietly. "Sacrifice Magic would only strengthen the seal..."
"Dammit, Carys." Meical's magic sent door pieces flying at the ceiling, punctuating his rage. "Don't give me those excuses. There is always a path around those difficulties. The little I understand about this magic is that it's primal blood magic. This spell could have killed you."
"It didn't."
"That's not the point!" His face flushed with anger. "What would I have done if I found out that my sister died on a fool's errand?"
Most wilted when facing his fury, but Carys just glared. "You were planning to get yourself killed in a fool's errand... all for revenge."
"I know what I am about and don't sneak around. And you?" He clenched his hands as if trying to hold on to patience. "You might've weakened yourself too much. Don't you see you can still die?"
"That doesn't matter now." She shook her head. "If I reach the Starlands, even for a bit, the curse in my blood will weaken. That can heal me. Heal many of us. That plan of yours? It would have resulted in your death. I'm not stupid, Meical. I know you were planning to lead the revenge quest."
He shrugged. "They need to know we're a threat. If I'd done enough damage, I might've been able to get them to crack the seal."
She shivered. "Might was never a convincing word. And I don't want you to die. But I've a dark heart, same as anyone in the Curselands. I'm also too selfish to sacrifice myself. I knew this would work."
A reluctant smile crossed Meical's face. Like her, he struggled with giving genuine smiles. Carys was one of the few people who could coax a true smile from him.
That almost made her happy.
"It's not selfishness to avoid self-sacrifice," he said, his smile fading. "The Starlands laud sacrificial heroes as if it was a virtue. But mortals all have a survival instinct, even those self-righteous bastards."
Only willpower kept her from flopping back down. She always knew when Meical was going to rant about the hypocrisy of the Starlands.
He rubbed his hands together. "They extol the Star Champions for their heroic sacrifice. But did they do it out of true nobility?"
She resisted the urge to cradle her head.
He shook his head as if she had responded. "No, it wasn't noble, only cowardly spite. They died because they wanted us to suffer. If they had genuine concern about the danger of Curse Mages, they would've killed all the powerful ones. A swift, righteous punishment. But instead—"
"Peace, Meical!" Carys massaged her head. "I know the wretched tale. Instead, they forced all of those with Curseblood down into damnation and sealed the stable portals. You needn't make such an oration."
He folded his arms. "I just don't want you thinking little of yourself, Nightshade. You're no worse than any of them."
That made her smile again. Not because of the reassurance.
The nickname.
She used to hate the pet name. The name of a poisonous plant felt insulting. But when she demanded an end, he explained the reason.
"It's your strength, little Nightshade. Ofttimes, it takes people by surprise that something small and innocent is lethal. Always remember it."
The words swirled inside her head, and she gripped her blanket. "Perhaps I'm no worse than them, but I can do better. So can you, Meical. We can't just wildly kill them all..."
"Pardon me?" His voice was dangerously low. "Do you want to show mercy to those bastards?"
"I..."
"What are you thinking?" he asked. "Mercy is never acceptable without something offered in return. Is Gil putting these weak thoughts in your head?"
"No!" she snapped. "I can think for myself, you know.
I said nothing about not killing them. But you can only inflict so much damage before you must return to the Curselands.
Not enough to gain what's needed before they reseal the stable portal.
" She took a deep breath. "All they will need is a relative of the original sacrifice. "
"Then I'll kill all of those with the blood."
"You always said they'll keep one out of reach." She held her head high, hoping to appear as a powerful witch and not a sickly girl. "But what if we break the sealing spell permanently, ensuring it can't reseal?"
Meical turned his back, his shoulders stiffening. "How?"
She pushed herself off the bed, grateful her brother couldn't see her trembling legs. "I need you to listen to my plan. No interruptions. You won't like it. But I've worked on this plan for a long time. I am certain it will succeed."
Dreadful silence followed. Her body cried to collapse, but she steadied herself and waited.
Then Meical conjured a ruby flame in her fireplace, a sign of his willingness to hear her out.