Chapter Twenty-Four
As the slow approximation of days passed in the Curselands, Aidan's Star Magic brought an approximation of life around Claudia's cottage.
Lush foliage, a radiant flood of flowers and a true tree.
Every day Carys stared at the branches, covered in rich leaves.
In a world of stone trees, it should have been enough.
But it deepened the hole inside of her.
The tree tantalized fellow denizens of Ghost Tower. Most worked out the Dalon prince was responsible for the marvel. A peculiar relief filled Carys when Aidan's usefulness lessened the naked hostility directed at him. Even if the malice never went away, it considerably muted.
Claudia grew irked by the people gathering around her garden. Her grumbling didn't scare off anyone until she bewitched a Curse Warrior into believing his head was aflame. His ghastly shrieks frightened most gawkers away.
Not Gil. He often sneaked into the gardens.
Sometimes, after a day of exhausting magic, Carys and Aidan would join him.
The shapeshifter, in a questionable quest to entertain and educate, would change into a variety of people as he taught Carys the names of flowers.
She was caught between irritation and genuine interest. Although she suspected he made up some names.
"There is no such flower as a snapdragon," she objected.
Gil, in the form of a bearded blond man, gave a throaty laugh. "I swear to the Blood Dragon it's a true name."
Aidan's face twitched. "He speaks true."
She threw her arms up. "The Starlands have such beauty to inspire them. Surely they can come up with better names."
Aidan reached forward and brushed blue blossoms. "Shall I tell you the name of this flower?"
"What?"
His eyes sparkled. "Forget-me-not."
"I won't forget." She huffed. "Say the foolish name already."
"I did. Forget-me-not."
"When did you say it?" She frowned at her mirthful companions. "I don't see what's so funny."
Aidan plucked a sprig of the blue blossoms and tucked it in her hair. "Peace, Carys," he said softly. "They are called forget-me-nots."
Her face heated as his fingers brushed through her locks, almost touching her ear . "Ju-just like I said... surely your people can come up with better names," she whispered.
It took all her self-control not to tear the flowers out of her hair. But that would show that she cared too much about the damn flowers. She ignored the smile on Gil's face and changed the subject to tree names.
That night, she detached the blossoms from her tangled hair. Part of her wanted to consign them to the flames. But she breathed in the heady scent of life and tucked the sprig beneath her pillow.
Meical continued to recruit and grow his army of beasts. But she never felt so distant from the preparations and plans. Fragile life and occasional laughter filled her world. When Gil wasn't serving her brother, his presence prevented awkwardness between Aidan and her.
Nothing in the Curselands remained nice. The magic process took its toll on Aidan. One day, Carys struggled just to get him outside. Pale, shaking, and looking like he was going to throw up any minute. She let him rest against the tree and looked up as Gil emerged from Claudia's cottage.
The Bloodwitch provided him with potions for his sister, but he didn't need a new potion for another fortnight. She walked across the patch of grass to join Gil and broach the subject of his visit.
"Why wouldn't I want to visit this dear old lady?" Gil asked, shifting into Claudia.
"Perhaps because she threatened to curse you if you ever filched her image?"
He shuddered and shifted into Carys. "I'll admit, calling on the Bloodwitch isn't pleasant."
"Then what are you doing here?" Carys frowned. "Is something amiss with your sister?"
Gil's sunny smile didn't fit his somber demeanor and certainly didn't fit her replicated face. "Shanna is as well as ever," he said in an unconvincing tone. "Fresh vegetables have done her a world of good. The Bloodwitch had a few notions on how to help her."
Wariness trickled through Carys. "What sort of notion? Sacrifice Magic?"
"Blood Dragon, no!" He shook his head, flaxen locks flying back and forth. "Although I'd rip out a pure maiden's heart if that would cure her."
"And if Shanna would ever allow it," she said, recalling that his sister opposed him employing Sacrifice Magic.
Gil's smile of false brightness disconcerted Carys. She resolved to never let such a smile to cross her actual face.
"Claudia's notions are promising," he said. "And... who knows? It may benefit us all."
She dug toes into sweet soil. "Whatever do you mean?"
He turned into Nix, giving a roughish wink on the healthy side of her face. "You'll know soon enough if all goes well," he said, running off.
She considered summoning him back with her magic, but it would be a waste. She watched his retreating figure before returning to fetch Aidan. But the prince had fallen asleep, so she gently shook him awake.
"What did Gil want?" he asked sleepily, proving he hadn't been asleep for too long. "Is Mistress Claudia intending to eat his Rali heart?"
"She would never do such a thing." Then she gave a small smile. "She would use the heart for Sacrifice Magic."
That fully woke him up. "Carys of the Curselands, did you just make a jest?"
"I would never," she said, as her smile grew.
He turned toward Claudia's dark door. "Are you certain we can't dally? Even if it's risky to be truant, we can at least stop to smell the roses."
"You can pick a rose if you want to smell it."
He shook his head. "I think roses have a better fragrance together than apart."
She looked at the rich red and white blossoms and saw the truth in his words. Plucking a rose wouldn't bring much change to the stark dead lands. At the most, it would add a spark of loveliness before dying.
He broke into a fit of coughing, alarming her. "Do you need to head back? I can always make excuses to Mistress Claudia," she said uncertainly.
A wry smile crossed his face. "My weakness isn't a good enough excuse and I wouldn't want to bring her wrath upon us. Anyway, the most important thing is to heal the Curselands. We haven't much time."
Discomfort pricked at Carys at his determination to stop the invasion of his homeland. He tbelieved that it would be as simple as bringing greenery to the Curselands.
Carys wished it was that simple.
Despite his resolve, the strain showed on Aidan.
His coughing fits and trembling were impossible to miss.
Claudia didn't miss those things, even if she said nothing.
After Aidan donated more blood and dizziness overtook him, Claudia pulled Carys aside.
"The prince needs rest if he's to be of any use.
Make sure he eats fruit and vegetables."
Carys played with her sleeve. "Bradon has appropriated most for my brother's army," she mumbled, a little stung that their efforts were taken from them.
Claudia picked up a sack and thrust it toward her. "That selfish Curse Magic didn't get his hands on all of it. There is also salted meat. True meat."
Carys' mouth dropped open. "You hate Aidan! Why would you help him?"
"I hate his kin and wouldn't give a fig if a Curse Eagle tore out his liver for an eternity," Claudia said in a pleasant tone. "But he is a curious experiment, and, unlike certain others, I don't intend to waste a resource."
Claudia's curiosity was legendary. Her cottage was crammed with unique specimens and enchanted items. But Carys' stomach gnawed at the idea that Aidan was no different than an object.
"He's not a thing," she mumbled.
Claudia raised an eyebrow, glancing at Aidan, who was dozing by the fire. "Did you never wonder why I don't use bonding curses? Why I advised against them?"
"Because you don't like the notion of another controlling whether you live or die," Carys said.
"In truth, that was but one reason." Claudia sighed. "Those spells are akin to slave spells. One of the bonded is often reduced to a thing. I don't mind ripping a heart out. That is over quick enough. But once you start seeing people as less than human, your own humanity begins to degrade."
"Can't you lose your humanity when you rip a heart out?" Carys flushed at her teacher's narrowed gaze. "I don't mean to be disrespectful."
"You never showed any disrespect before that prince." Claudia dusted off her hands. "I respect what I sacrifice and never pretend that the sacrifice is less than a man. I worry even I couldn't handle that kind of power."
She left unsaid that if she couldn't handle it, Carys had no chance. Carys grew irked at the implication. Her discontent only increased as days passed; especially as Aidan grew weaker and Gil's absence grew more noticeable.
Gil often vanished for indeterminate periods of times. This time shouldn't feel any different.
But it did.
Carys allowed the weary Aidan to have a day off. She didn't tell him and let him continue sleeping. It turned out to be the right decision. Cal was leaving the cottage when she arrived.
Alarm jolted Carys. No one willingly visited the Bloodwitch. Her last caller was Gil.
Now Gil was missing, and someone who worked for Meical was there.
"Cal!" Carys called softly, beckoning for him to join her under the tree.
A wary Cal approached her. His dark hair and black armor seemed incongruous in the middle of such color and life. "How do you, Carys?" he asked. "This place is quite a wonder. It seems the prince of asses had a use."
She ignored the insult to Aidan. "Cal, tell me true. Has Meical any news of Gil?"
He smiled. "The shapeshifter? Not that I've heard."
The smile was too easy for a denizen of the Curselands. She narrowed her eyes. "Lying to a witch ofttimes ends badly."
"I don't know what—"
"You ought to tell me." Little blades of grass stiffened as Carys' magical energy churned inside. "I can tell that you lie. I need only inform my brother that you failed at lying, a necessary skill for his poisonous service, and you will be banished."
Cal scowled. "Did anyone ever tell you that you are a venomous shrew?"
"Only venomous shrews survive here."
A smile crossed his face. The garden granted him a charm that was absent elsewhere. "I only like venomous shrews." He shook his head. "Your brother won't be well pleased if I said something. Surely you know that you've put me in a terrible position."
"As would anyone in the Curselands."
Cal sighed. "Mistress Claudia required a rare alchemical tool to amplify the effects of the prince's blood. But it's only known to exist in the Starlands."
Her heart sank. "Did Meical risk sending Gil through a Jumping Portal?"
Gil could only survive a day outside of the Curselands, and there was almost no hope of finding a Jumping Portal after one vanished. Anger ignited that Meical would throw away Gil's life.
"No," Cal said quietly, and relief doused her rage. "Your brother sent him to the only person who can obtain anything from the Starlands."
Her insides turned to ice. "Not him..."
He sighed. "He sent him to Curselord Kieran."
She fought the urge to rub feeling back into her hands. "No. He couldn't... sending him to the Starlands would have been safer!"
"Gil seemed quite willing."
"Is he supposed to refuse my brother?" Rage shook her body.
"My brother's grace is the only reason Gil and his sister are allowed protection.
He must always go running when Meical orders it.
They say Curselord Kieran consumes the hearts of powerful mages to amplify his own power.
" She tried to suppress her magic, but blades of grass crumbled to ash.
"A shapeshifter of Rali would be irresistible. "
Cal nodded, not arguing with his assessment. "He hasn't been gone too long. I was sent to Mistress Claudia for mystical insight into this slight delay."
"Kieran's fortress is shrouded by magic. Even Claudia can't see past his defensives." She paced through piles of ash that were recently grass. "Couldn't Meical have sent someone with Gil?"
A leaf fell from the tree, crumbling into dust. Cal didn't blink at the powder scattered upon him. "Gil's speciality is that he can blend into anything. A companion without that skill would draw attention to his work."
It was true, but more leaves rained down, turning to ash.
Cal caught a leaf just as it decayed. "Curselord Meical isn't worried."
Her throat grew sticky, almost trapping her voice. "Then why are you here? My brother isn't stupid. He knows Claudia wouldn't be able to help."
"Curse Mage Bradon sent me." He paced around the tree trunk, his expressionless face hidden from view. "He is concerned about the sensitive intelligence Gil possesses on Meical's forces."
Carys was seldom overcome with emotional outbursts. But an unnatural wind tore through everything, smelling of sulfur and smoke. She struggled to calm herself as the brimstone breeze broke off precious branches.
Cal pulled her out of the way of a falling branch. She wanted to wrench away from him, but her desire only made the wind howl. She took slow, careful breaths, trying to let Cal's cold body steady her.
"Are you that worried about the shapeshifter?" he asked.
"I don't care a poisoned fig for Gil!" she snapped. "I'm angry that my brother didn't inform me!"
A chunk of earth erupted, raining dirt upon them.
Cal appeared unconcerned by the nascent nature crumbling into dust. His fingers slid down her arm, then wrapped around her clutched fist. His action surprised her. Most wouldn't risk touching a wrathful witch. But his coldness calmed her, made her forget everything was falling apart.
"Anger is a good thing," he said. "It strengthens Curse Magic. And you should be angry. This world tries to destroy anything we hold precious..."
She swallowed. "I don't care for Gil..."
Cal's other hand stroked her face. She should have cursed his fingers off for the impertinence. But his cold touch left a warm tingle on her cheek.
It almost felt like magic.
Nobody ever touched her that way. Only three people dared to touch her with compassion. Meical, Gil, and Aidan.
Three people who would never dare to look at her as Cal did.
"If the shapeshifter was my friend, there's nothing I wouldn't do to get him back," he whispered.
She shook her head, overwhelmed by the obstacles. Her limited power, the curse keeping her tethered to Aidan, and the fact that her own brother couldn't defeat Kieran. More leaves withered into dust as her magic tore apart the only beauty in the Curselands.
"You bewitched a prince, provided us an opportunity to escape this hell and even brought life to these lands of death." He leaned closer. "Don't underestimate yourself."
He kissed her, and she froze. She never had a real kiss.
Never wanted one. She remained still as his lips brushed against her mouth.
As the kiss grew more intense, she responded, matching his own fervor.
She kissed him as if wanting nothing more than the taste of him.
Disappointment choked her, but she couldn't stop.
His kiss blocked out the green, the very scent of life.
It just couldn't block out the image of someone else.