Chapter Twenty-One
Uneasy silence often smothered Aidan when he returned to Ghost Tower with Carys. On that night, he wanted to break the silence, but feared what she might say.
He attempted to observe her in an inconspicuous fashion. Her stiff posture, clenched fists, and impassive face were ordinary enough. There weren't any signs that she noticed his gaze, so he kept studying the enigmatic witch.
"What are you staring at?" Carys snapped as they reached the spiral staircase.
Aidan didn't let her temper shake him as they began their ascent. "Could your Curse Magic truly kill you?" he asked.
"Don't fret over your precious princess." She balled her fists. "Mistress Claudia just wants to scare me into the High Sacrifice. But you needn't fear..."
She stopped two steps ahead of him, her skirt swishing into him as she turned in his direction. He took another step up, his height bringing him face to face with her. "I needn't fear?"
"Indeed." She drew back. "I am too selfish to die. The worst that could happen would be my body breaking down. That worries Mistress Claudia. She needs a useful apprentice, you know. After I broke the sealing stone, she got rather worked up... all because I lost a fingernail."
She spoke of it as a triviality, but Aidan winced on her behalf. "Why put yourself through this torment? You can't survive out of the Curselands."
"For now."
She swerved, her dirty feet skittering up the staircase. He hurried after her, his boots thumping on the shaky stairs. His sliced palm stung, but the pain brought an idea to him.
"What if we make the Curselands better?" he asked, eagerness growing. "What if my blood made this realm more livable? Wouldn't that put an end to the war between our people? Wouldn't it be better than destroying yourself?"
She turned and grimaced, as if his hopefulness pained her. "I know you have the best of intentions, and I think we could heal a bit of these lands. But you simply don't have enough blood to engender any substantial change. At the most, we'll bring a few acres to life... that's not enough..."
"If we could do more... would you give up attacking the Starlands?"
As they reached the top of the stairs, she paused, shadows darkening her face. "We're cleaning up a tomb. Even if we had grass and true water...we'll never have the sun."
"Is the sun worth so much death?"
He froze as she tilted her head, appearing to consider his question. Then she moved away, answering with soft, receding footsteps.
She only slowed when they neared their respective doors. Her eyes closed, and she let out a trembling breath. "Before any wild dreams, we'll see what your blood can do."
Eyes still shut, she held out the potion bottle, as if afraid he would reject it.
He hesitated for a second before disregarding his misgivings.
As he reached for it, his fingers brushed against her cold hand.
She tensed from the brief contact. He clutched the bottle and removed his hand, the faint tingle of her icy touch lingering on his skin.
"I hope my blood can help," he said.
She opened her eyes, and for a moment, just a moment, the black mist flickered. His heart lurched at the glimpse of her pupils. The darkness of the corridor prevented him from seeing her true eye color. But, without the dark haze, she appeared younger and far more fragile.
Then the black shroud returned, veiling her emotions. "Perhaps you should hope it fails. You should want to return to the Starlands. If we succeed with our attack, if we can return... you could be with your bonny princess again."
He swallowed. "What?"
"If we are finally healed of the curse chaining us to this land, I'd let you return to her," she whispered.
It was like being struck in the stomach. "Are you saying that to be cruel?"
She shook her head.
"Liar!" he snapped. "You likely want to bribe my brother to find a cure for your condition by promising me freedom. No one as selfish as you would ever do a kindness for me."
Guilt stirred within him as pain shadowed her face.
Then she glowered. "I would do it for you because I am selfish.
Perhaps I don't care to watch you mope over your princess for the rest of my life.
You may hurt from the loss of her, but your pain reminds me I will never feel the pain of lost love.
This land has guaranteed that I can never love. "
A wild burst of magic tore open her door, cracking the surrounding walls. She rushed into her room, slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.
The outburst left him dumbfounded. After Gil's explanation, Aidan studied Carys. He began accepting that she cared about people in her own peculiar way, especially Gil and her despicable brother.
Yet she believed love was impossible for her.
He knocked on her door. "Carys? Carys!"
The silent door was reminiscent of her blank face. Someone was behind it, but there was no indication of life.
He gave up and returned to his room. It took him a bit to drink the foul potion.
It tasted worse than it looked. Much worse.
Only his willpower made him swallow the gunk.
Aside from the rancid aftertaste, there was no immediate effect.
He picked up his bottle of Seeing Water, preparing to pour it into a dish.
The Curselands' equivalent of nighttime was the best time to see his loved ones.
At other times, people surrounded them, igniting his loneliness. Only Niall was alone during the day.
His hand froze before spilling a single drop. Only so much water remained. He wanted to prove to Carys that they could heal the Curselands. That they could heal her. But if he succeeded, he would have no hope of ever rejoining his loved ones.
If he saw one tonight, he might reconsider everything.
His dreary room swirled, the potion's effects taking hold. He stumbled over to the straw mattress that recently appeared in the room, a small bit of comfort like the bench outside Claudia's cottage. Coldness crept up his arms and darkness veiled his vision.
The bitch had poisoned him.
The hateful thought sent terror coursing through him. He never had those thoughts. Not even of those that he hated.
War drums pounded in his head, and a wildfire scorched his insides. Everything vanished and Aidan fell through the earth, like when he fell into the Curselands. His vision returned, cerulean sky filling his eyes. He was home.
But everything was wrong. Black flames burned trees as unnatural behemoths swarmed the land.
"This is your fault..."
Bella lurched over to him. Blood stained her white gown and her curls were in disarray. He hurried to help, only for her to shove him.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Bella spat. "Hell on the Starlands. All because you were selfish."
His heart plummeted. "Selfish...?"
A harsh laugh rang out. "Do you know why Carys chose you and not me? She saw a weakness in you. I would have died ere I endangered my kingdom. I would have given up my true love. But not you. You are too selfish to sacrifice."
"I didn't want your kingdom to lose you..."
She came closer. "You didn't want to lose me.
My kingdom could have survived the loss of me, but no one shall survive when these monsters invade.
If you had a noble heart, you'd pick up a dagger and plunge it into your own weak heart.
Or, better still, plunge it into the witch.
She'd be dead, and I'd be dead, but the Starlands would be safe. "
Shame shot through Aidan. "I can't..."
She stroked his cheek. "If you asked it of me, I would do it."
As she touched his face, her other hand caressed his chest. Pain scorched him as her fingernails dug into flesh, ripping and tearing until she tore out his heart.
He stared in horror as she gripped the blackening, decaying organ.
"But you're already poisoned, dear heart," she whispered. "You've been in the Curselands too long. No wonder you don't love me enough to kill me."
"Aidan!"
Heat was his only world. A cold rag on his forehead was the only relief. It vaguely reminded him of his old nurse tending to him when he fell ill. No one cared for him in a long time. Knights were expected to show stoic endurance.
"Come now. You are nearly past the worst of it..."
Tears burned his eyes as his soul scorched. Having his heart ripped out would have been pleasurable compared to this hell.
A bowl of water touched his lips. He drank, desperate to alleviate his thirst, but it offered little relief. Curselands water always had a warm, stale quality to it. Despite the poor taste, he took greedy gulps.
Everything appeared as shadowy smears. The gentle touch made him think it was Bella.
As his vision cleared, the illusion shattered. It was Carys.
But that wasn't right... she would never take care of him. Only one person in the Curselands gave a damn about him and could change their appearance.
"Gil?" Aidan groaned.
The person with Carys' form cast her black eyes in his direction. "Did the potion melt your mind?" she asked. "I am Carys."
She shone through his fogginess. Not even Gil could replicate her tetchy tone.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his throat searing as he forced the words out.
"Why do you think?" She huffed. "Your wretched moans woke me."
It astonished Aidan that she didn't kick him and tell him to shut up. Carys tending to him was just as likely as Bella ripping out his heart.
He shuddered and tried focusing on his water. Tried pretending it was fresh from Dalon.
Carys sighed. "These effects won't last for long. It's always hardest the first time. The potion is burning out any remnant of corruption."
He frowned. "Have you done it?"
She picked up the empty potion bottle, staring through it.
"Yes. Though I can't fully cleanse myself.
I've been here too long, you see. But I've had to strip some of the poison if I want to perform certain spells.
I had to clean myself before breaking the sealing spell.
Otherwise, my cursed blood would've botched it. "
Aidan forced himself into a sitting position, letting out slow breaths as he tried to push away the pain. "So the corruption can never truly be gone from you?"
"I've been here since I was a babe of two.
That's a considerable time for it to take root within him.
Some think I could be healed if I stayed in the Starlands and ceased practicing Curse Magic.
But I would have to spend more than a day in the Starlands.
.. and the curse of this realm ensures I wouldn't survive for longer than a day. "
His mind swirled too much to ponder the paradox that kept her trapped in the Curselands. Instead, he focused on what horrified him. "You've been here since you were two?"
"Aye."
"How? I can't imagine you were a great villain at two. Perhaps four, but not two," he teased, his voice cracking.
Carys stiffened, and he feared his words offended her. Then she sighed. "My mother was a witch. My father was a warrior who used Curse Magic to achieve great power on the battlefield. They entered into a Curse Ceremony for mutual benefit. My father wanted power and my mother wanted a defender."
"I suppose there are worse reasons to get married," Aidan joked, mostly relieved that it wasn't one of those tragic tales of a Curse Mage abducting an innocent woman.
He winced at her unamused face.
"There was nothing more to their relationship than that dark bond," Carys said.
"My father wanted his firstborn son to take up his warrior legacy, and my mother wished that he would carry on her own legacy.
They trained him in the ways of Curse Magic from a young age.
My brother is onescore and five now, but fifteen years ago, he still had considerable power. "
"He would have only been a lad of ten!"
"Star Mages train the young."
"But they don't practice sacrificial magic," he said, his mind assaulted by images of children committing ritual murder.
She didn't respond. The silence went on so long that he wasn't certain if she would continue.
"You were training as a knight at a young age," she said. "What do knights do?"
It wasn't the same thing at all. But between his pain and curiosity, it wasn't worth arguing the point. "None of this explains how a babe of two ended up here."
She lowered her head, wild blonde hair veiling her face. "How much do you know of the High Banishing Spell?"
"Magic invoked by the Star Champions before the sealing spell was cast. The spell called all those with Curse Magic into the portals before they were sealed."
"Aye." She hunched her shoulders. "Meical was ten and already possessed powerful Curse Magic. The spell compelled him into the portal."
He frowned. "But wouldn't the Star Champions or their forces have intervened to prevent children from being forced down here?"
"They wanted the corrupted children down here." Her voice had never sounded so dead. "They wanted to stamp out the corruption that tainted the land."
No one ever told Aidan that tale. Not his brother, mother, teachers, or people who fought in the Curse Wars.
The history books never alluded to something so detestable.
He heard stories of children being bewitched down into the portals, to be sacrificed.
All of that seemed more probable to him than noble warriors forcing innocents into perdition.
He didn't think Carys wanted to hear his views. This was the closest that she ever came to sharing something personal. So he swallowed his arguments and nodded for her to continue.
"The irony was that the Banishing Spell was more effective on those too weak to resist. Everyone thinks the Curse Mages simply walked through the portals and were sealed.
But that wasn't what happened at all." Her face tightened.
"The magic was invoked at least a year before the sealing.
People kept coming back and forth through the portals.
.. if they could survive the initial fall into hell.
The final battle of the Curse Wars was meant to weaken Curse Mages so the strongest would die or end up down here. "
Aidan knew the last part. But he also knew it was more of a desperate act by the Star Champions.
She exhaled. "My mother avoided battle and was strong enough to resist it. But my brother couldn't. So my mother came down after him."
Stunned that a Curse Mage would do something so selfless, he tried to think of a tactful way to express his admiration. "Your mother couldn't have been completely corrupted if she made such a sacrifice for her child. There is hope for you, Carys."
That sounded more tactful in his head. He half-expected her to erupt in anger. But she just pulled her shawl around her body. "There is no hope."
"But—"
"You want to know how I ended up in hell at the age of two?" Carys clutched the glass bottle, her knuckles turning white. A loud crack ran out, shards of glass flying everywhere as the bottle exploded. Blood ran down her hand, but she didn't move. "My own mother sent me here."