Chapter Eleven
Only stony terrain laid beyond the towering ebony pillars. The dreariness almost made Aidan miss a blood-red glimmer on the ground. Little crimson glowing dots stretched around the area, and a closer look showed that runes emitted the lights.
The similarity to the sealing stone sent a shiver through him.
As he passed the runes, his skin tingled.
The unsettling sensation distracted him until he looked up.
His heart jumped, and he forgot all discomfort.
A large tower, previously unseen, loomed over the desolate deathscape.
It stretched higher than any building in Dalon.
He almost imagined it scraped the bloody sky.
As his eyes adjusted to the massive monument, he took in the surroundings.
An immense black wall encircled the tower, fortified with smaller, practical watchtowers.
None of the others showed surprise at the appearance of such an overwhelming fortress.
"How did that stay hidden?" Aidan asked Carys.
"Magic."
Her tone, boredom with a shade of condescension, irked him. "I know it's magic. How could there possibly be enough magic to hide something so big?"
He shuddered as she cast her black eyes in his direction. "There is powerful magic in those runes," she said, as if he should have known. "Sacrifice magic."
The blood runes seemed to shine brighter. Fear stopped him from asking about the specifics. He had a sinking feeling that it required a much more drastic sacrifice than his own.
It felt like entering a prison as the gates lowered, and they walked past the outer wall. Little shacks and cottages lined outside and inside the walls, reminding him of Arolla Palace. A few curious people emerged from those ramshackle structures, some too ordinary for such a hellish land.
Everything else seemed a warped reflection of his previous life.
Fearsome warriors filled the courtyard, some so far from human appearance that he worried they were demons.
He flinched as one ebony-eyed man ripped into raw meat with beastly teeth.
But the people were innocuous compared to the Curse Creatures.
Two unnaturally large black stallions thrashed in a pen as a hooded winged creature screeched.
He made the mistake of looking down as he passed a pit.
Vicious snakes gathered at the bottom, twisting and writhing.
"You cannot become a Curse Warrior unless you survive the pit." A young man with black hair and blacker eyes stared murderously at Aidan. "Care to take your chances?"
The young man tossed a stone into the pit, and a snake that was taller than three grown men shot out, opening a mouth full of coppery teeth. Aidan almost lost his footing as he backed up, and raucous laughter surrounded him. The serpentine demon descended back into the dark pit.
An impatient Carys gestured for Aidan to follow. He gave a wide berth to the pit, flinching as people cackled even louder. But he wasn't that eager to join Carys as she stopped at a gathering. A wild urge to laugh filled him.
He never even imagined Curse Cattle existed.
Corralled in a pen, the massive beasts had spikes and thorns protruded from their crimson bodies.
While they growled, a terrible snarling came from one chained to the outside.
A group of women veiled in ebony surrounded the lone beastly bovine, and a woman in white approached, wielding a black blade.
Aidan's burgeoning hysteria punctured as she knelt before Meical.
The Curselord nodded. "Proceed."
She rose and thrust her dagger into the beast's throat. The other cattle lowed while black blood spilled from the beast. As it died, the woman smeared the blood all over her face before running to Meical. He swung her around and kissed her bloodied mouth.
After the kiss, Meical noticed Aidan's horror. "Sacrifice is a great blessing," he said, a mocking edge to his voice. "You should be honored to participate in this ritual."
Aidan shuddered. The woman ran to every warrior who accompanied Meical's mission. Some showed little response, some kissed deeply. She embraced Carys, leaning down to kiss her. Carys didn't respond, but didn't recoil.
Horror consumed him as the young woman approached.
He tried waving her off, but the woman grabbed him, kissing him with her ghastly mouth.
He never imagined pushing a woman, but he needed to escape the foul taste.
Before he could touch her, she pulled away with an eerie smile.
Mouth burning, he wiped at the blood with his tunic sleeve.
Meical chuckled. "I wouldn't waste that blessing. You need all the protection that you can get in this world."
Aidan continued his furious rubbing, trying to remove the faint burning. Carys didn't say anything or cleanse herself, and just walked away. He followed, his pace quickening as some started tearing into the raw meat of the beast.
When they came closer to the tower, they passed a gallows.
Corpses hung, some fresh and others decayed.
Red-eyed ravens pecked at the remains. One stopped pecking at an eye socket and looked right at Aidan, likely anticipating a future feast. But Carys' reaction scared him more than the sickening sight.
Nothing. As if the odious display was ordinary.
He followed Carys through the vast, shadowy halls of the tower. It wasn't as hellish as he expected. Colder and darker than Arolla Palace, but tapestries and torches brightened everything.
And no instruments of torture as decoration.
He half-expected to be cast in a dungeon with monstrous creatures.
Carys brought him to a narrow stairwell, and he almost went down a step as she went up.
He hesitated for a second before following her up the long, winding staircase.
A dungeon might have been preferable because the climb seemed endless.
No railing was adjacent to the ancient, weak stairs, and cracks echoed with each footstep.
All he could think during his unsteady ascent was that if he fell and died, Bella would die.
Would she die the same way? Would she just be eating before her head burst open?
He didn't calm until they reached the top. Carys assigned him a small room that adjoined her chambers. "The curse requires us to stay within a certain proximity," she said with a grimace. "That is the reason you are allowed on the ninth level."
It almost sounded like she was granting him a gift, as though she expected thanks.
He reached deep down to find his courtesy. "Thank you."
Her face remained blank, as if she had never heard those words. Then she went into her chambers without another word.
He took a deep breath, lingering at the doorway of his new room. It took all of his energy to keep hope alive. But he suspected that hope already died when Meical shoved him into the portal. Now hope haunted him like a ghost. And, like a ghost, there was nothing substantial to it.
Ghost Tower was a fitting name for his new home.
Although nothing like his chambers at home, the chamber was probably the best part of his new life. Dark, musty, and smaller than his old garderobe. The only light came from a small window, an eerie red glow emanating from the sky. It was enough to make him long for shutters.
Likely it had been Carys' storage room. A pungent stench lingered, and questionable stains smeared the walls. No bed. Aidan wasn't sure if that was an oversight or a deliberate slight. An old moth-eaten quilt and a small wobbly stool were the extent of the furnishings.
He sat down on the stool, wincing as it creaked. Clasping his hands together, he tried not to think about everything that transpired. Exhaustion seeped through his bones, but his edginess didn't allow sleep. He leaned against the cold wall, trying to block everything out.
One familiar sensation started eating up his focus. After searching the room in vain, he was left with no choice. He crept out into the hall and hesitantly knocked on Carys' door.
No response.
He bit his lip, annoyed with his cowardice. His hand raised to bang on the door when it swung open. Carys peered out, her face cleansed of bloody residue.
"There's no garderobe." He hesitated as she stared at him. "You know, lavatory. I'm not expected to go down nine levels to find an outhouse, am I?"
She stepped back and shut the door in his face. He seldom swore, but wanted to shout an obscenity. As he contemplated pissing in front of her door, it opened. She shoved a pot into his arms before slamming the door.
The stench of the pot left little to the imagination.
He took care of business and tried lying on the quilt, only for mysterious scratching and tapping to shatter any hope of sleep.
Soon those noises were joined by faint rapping on the door.
He assumed Carys was knocking, but quickly squashed that notion.
She seemed like the sort who entered without knocking.
He crept up to the door and pressed his ear to it, trying to work out what was causing the noise, but only heard his own breathing.
The rapping ceased, and silence followed.
Then flapping shattered the silence. He swerved to find a Curse Raven flying around his room.
It landed on the stool, cocking its head at him.
Something about its disconcerting red eyes left him frozen.
Part of him wanted to ask Carys for help.
But it was a stupid bird. Anyone could easily get rid of it.
He waved his hands, attempting to shoo it away.
It stayed still with an unblinking gaze.
Unnerved, he considered grabbing it and chucking it out of the window or throwing his chamber pot at it, but in the end, did nothing.
He sat on his quilt, eyeing the bird. He started nodding off, only to be jerked awake by garbled whispers.
The whispers silenced, and the raven still stared at him.
It finally shot off through the window, and Aidan let out a shaky sigh of relief.
That night would prove to be the nicest part of his new life. The next day, Carys explained she would be working with a witch.
She looked at the floor. "We shouldn't part, but you cannot be present during my work."
"Are you afraid I'll sabotage your wicked plans?" Aidan half-joked.
He wasn't surprised that she didn't appreciate the humor. "That would be most unwise, considering the consequences. The reason you can't be there is that my teacher despises your family."
"Who doesn't hate my family down here?" he asked, trying and failing to sound lighthearted.
"My teacher is Claudia the Bloodwitch." She raised her head. "The sister of Sylvia the Bloodwitch."
He swallowed. "My father..."
"Your father plunged an enchanted dagger into her heart, forcing her to use too much magic until her body turned to stone. I believe her morbid corpse decorates your gardens still."
He shuddered. "I... I am sorry."
She blinked. "Why apologize to me? The Bloodwitch was no kin of mine. In truth, your apologies would be wasted on Mistress Claudia. I shouldn't speak to her at all if I were you."
Despite that danger, Carys didn't want them too far apart. She spent her days holed up in a cottage adjacent to Ghost Tower while Aidan waited outside.
His fear of dark shapes circling the sky diminished after Carys explained wild Curse Creatures could not cross the enchanted outer walls.
The greatest concern ended up being boredom.
Not once in his life was he allowed to be bored.
The education and responsibilities of a prince left little time to fritter away.
His mother insisted that Aidan's time be occupied with useful activities.
Tales of royal luxury always brought a smile to his face.
Aidan mucked out stables, repaired houses, and tended sheep.
Aside from boredom, hunger was another new concern. Carys gave him food, but she often spent over half a day in the cottage. Resentful as his stomach gnawed, he imagined her feasting inside. But, after observing her, he suspected she forgot to eat.
A trek through the grounds killed any appetite. If there wasn't some sickening sacrifice, there were piles of excrement from the beasts and the ever-present corpses rotting on the gallows.
The first few days, Aidan sat on a large boulder outside the cottage while the grounds bustled with activity.
Meical's liegemen were occupied with training.
It wasn't too different from Aidan's knightly training.
They ran, wrestled, practiced with weapons, and used the horrifying Curse Stallions for jousting.
The distance made it difficult to observe the jousting, but it mostly resulted in riders thrown from the creatures.
Pained screams, blurs of beasts clashing, and one wild stallion running loose broke the monotony of the days.
It reminded Aidan of racing horses with Niall, being knocked into the mud by Fiona, and always outrunning Ellar. Days that left him exhausted, but so happy. He despised Cure Mages, but a very small part of him would have liked to join in the training.
He wouldn't be welcome.
As he overheard bits of conversation, he learned experienced warriors trained outside the walls, fighting Curse Creatures.
Loud voices drifted in his direction, boasting of the great beasts they brought down.
It reminded him of Fiona's excited chatter after a victorious hunt.
But, while the liveliness and camaraderie seemed similar, the sadistic elation at killing was decidedly alien.
New recruits trained within the safety of the walls, but the walls didn't offer any true protection.
During a wrestling bout, a recruit ended up in the snake pit.
Despite a considerable distance, the horrific screams tore at his ears.
The jubilant cheers of the recruits didn't drown out the nightmarish cries.
Disgust dripped through Aidan at the demonic delight over their comrade's demise.
He pushed aside his revulsion and paid attention to the chatter. Piecing together snatches of information, he discerned Meical was recruiting from all over the Curselands. He didn't want to think of what that meant for the Starlands.
Whenever Aidan and Carys passed the recruits, his skin tingled from their malevolent gazes. Only Carys' presence seemed to impede their murderous intent.
But she wasn't always with him.
Days blended and blurred, the sky red at all hours. One day, or night, Aidan stared at the crimson sky, watching the monstrous dark shapes in the distance.
He envied the freedom of Curse Creatures.
Gravel crunched, and an awful smell assaulted him. He almost kicked himself for ignoring his surroundings and looked over to see half a dozen young men and one woman circled him. They wore foul-smelling leather and predatory expressions.
A young man stepped forward. Something struck Aidan as familiar, but his inky hair and jagged scar down the left cheek blended with so many new faces.
The young man glowered. "Prince Aidan of Dalon?"
"Aye, I'm Aidan of Dalon," he said, not bothering with the princely title. "And you are?"
"Cal." He crossed his arms. "A good day to you, Prince Aidan. It seems we are once more neighbors. When I lived in the Starlands, I called Hudd my home."
Aidan went rigid. The Curselands faded for a moment as his mind filled with images of the vast mountains and rocky shores of Hudd.
"I've been to Hudd," he murmured.
"Have you?" Cal tilted his head. "My mam is still there."
Aidan nodded. Nothing seemed menacing about the words or the tone. But Cal's cold black eyes sent unease rippling through him. "My mother is still in Dalon," he said, tensing a bit.
"In truth, I don't know if my mam would recognize me." Cal moved closer. "Do you see what the world does to us?"
Aidan tried not to stare at the scar. "I'm sorry. But isn't there a reason that you're down here?"
He winced at what came out of his mouth. Maybe the lack of sleep had gotten to him or the poisonous atmosphere.
Savage expressions surrounded him as Cal maintained an eerie silence. Then a twisted smirk distorted his face. "Indeed, Prince Aidan."
Cal knelt, as if showing obeisance to Aidan.
As his hands grazed the ground, a dark line cracked through the stony surface, heading straight for the boulder that Aidan used as a seat.
Before he could scramble up, heat surged through the boulder, and it burst into bits.
A cloud of dust and stone chips rained as he fell.
He tried to get up, but a burning sensation ripped at his arm.
The surroundings started shifting, and the cottage seemed further away.
He blinked and realized that the cottage wasn't moving.
It was him. Turning his head wildly, he saw Cal walking ahead of him as Aidan's body rolled and bashed into the ground. No hand touched Aidan.
He was in the grip of magic.
Though instructed in ways to break enchantments, neglecting to practice dispelling left Aidan unable to counter the magic. He tried calling upon his Star Magic, but nothing happened.
The painful journey ended. Red sky filled Aidan's line of sight before Cal's head blocked his vision.
Cal sneered. "You're right. We're all down here for a reason. We do unimaginable things to survive in this hell. We give up bits of our souls for enough Curse Magic to survive. My brother refused to use Curse Magic. Do you know what happened?"
Instead of answering, Aidan tried pushing himself up. Cal slammed a heavy boot down on Aidan's chest, knocking the wind out of him.
"Lambs don't survive here. Only wolves." Cal kicked him. "Your kingly brother will mourn the death of his weak little brother. But he shan't mourn for long. I'll tell him of your weakness before I tear his heart out."
Anger never came easily to Aidan. But now rage roared inside. "Mark me, Curseblood, you shall never kill him. A lamb would be more of a threat than you."
Cal grabbed Aidan, pulling him up. "Are you certain?"
He reeled as Cal struck him with a blow enhanced by magic. His feet stumbled until they no longer stood on solid ground. He plummeted into darkness, landing on a bumpy surface.
Dazed, he looked up at the distant red sky, trying to gauge how far he fell. It didn't seem too far. He just needed to figure out how to get up.
As he considered the problem, noises echoed around him.
Hissing.