CHAPTER 15: A CURSE

When Malia woke up, her head was leaning on Gorken’s shoulder. To her left, the rest of her companions were still fast asleep. Both Aldous and Hedera had claimed Bayard as their pillow; Licorice was unobtrusively curled up next to them.

Malia glanced towards Gorken; in the tranquil closeness she was able to linger on facts that would have usually eluded her. She noticed how small she was compared him. Hiding her toned muscles while living in the northern castle had always been a hassle, and yet his broad shoulders made hers look slim. As her stare roamed around him, she witnessed his breathing becoming ragged, his bronze skin gleaming with fearful sweat. Before she could shape her concern into action, Gorken woke up.

“Good morning.” He greeted her warmly after a heavy yawn, but to Malia he looked even more tired than the day before.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Of course.”

Malia wasn’t convinced by Gorken’s smile, but his attempt at appearing fine persuaded her not to inquire further. At least not right away.

They sat in silence, waiting for their companions to awaken one after the other. The rising sun was lifting darkness’ smooth veil when they spared the room they were in the attention it demanded. The dirty, tumultuous disarray that had surrounded them when they fell asleep was nowhere to be found. The young group was still enclosed by a myriad objects, but they were now carefully organized on shelves and cabinets. The imposing dust coating the insides of Kadem’s lair had disappeared entirely.

“For how long were we asleep?!” Aldous panicked, scouting around the room for signs of the present.

“Don’t wet your pants just yet. I cleaned up the place a little during the night.” Kadem’s voice came from the passageway. She entered the room holding a big pot of stew. “Here, I also made this. You can eat it.”

“So you were up all night?” Aldous asked, his mouth already watering at the prospect of a warm meal.

“I slept for three hundred years. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping again anytime soon.” The silver witch replied as she placed four empty bowls on the table around the stew.

Aldous, Bayard, Gorken and Malia gobbled up their food while Hedera and Licorice just watched. The stew was bitter for some reason, and despite its delicious smell, eating it was not a pleasant experience. They were so hungry and so grateful for the nourishment that they kept quiet about it. That, and they feared Kadem’s reaction should they dare comment on it; they were wise enough not to challenge the proud grin adorning the woman’s face as she observed them consuming her horrid cooking.

Kadem shifted her attention to Hedera and Licorice, “You two are forest demons, am I correct?”

They nodded, and she handed a bowl filled with fresh water to each of them. Once Aldous, Bayard and Gorken were done eating, Malia was still asking for more and the twins were finishing their water.

“You’ve been very kind to us.” Gorken lowered his plate, “I thank you for your hospitality.”

“Well then, now we’re even.” Kadem crossed her legs, “Make sure to clean after yourselves. I’m not fond of washing dishes.”

There was a well just outside Kadem’s tree, so they went out as instructed, cloth and bowls in hand. Hedera and Licorice located a spot where sunlight would reach them; they stood still for several minutes, basking in it.

Gorken was rinsing his plate when Malia approached him, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“I’m grateful for what you did yesterday, truly.” She crouched beside him, “And I want to learn how to be part of the team… But… I don’t need you to protect me, and my own life is enough of a burden for me. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt.”

“I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” He replied without removing his eyes from the task at hand.

“Why?” Malia questioned him, confused.

“Because I don’t want to.” Gorken retorted.

Malia moved forward to get a better look at his face, almost offended, “What kind of answer is that?”

“If it really worries you, take better care of yourself, for my sake as well.” He granted her a tired grin before looking back at the water.

I can’t deny that might be a solution. “Is this how you handle being a leader?” She studied his face, “With emotional blackmail and selfish commands? If so, I see a mutiny coming soon.” She broke her grim façade with a smirk, “I worry for the future of the rebellion.”

“As you should.” He chuckled lightly. It wasn’t lost on Malia that their joking exchange had some truth as its pillar. But she didn’t know how to pry, how to get Gorken to talk about it earnestly.

Once they were back inside, clean plates in their respective cabinets, Kadem gestured with her hand, inviting them to sit at the table again, “Should we continue where we left off? Or am I free from your intrusive questions?” As much as she pretended to be bothered, it was obvious the silver witch had her hopes placed in them. She was as hungry for their momentum as they were for her knowledge. Her bottled might and wisdom and passion needed direction. Purpose. Malia could relate to her empty fervor to a painful degree.

“For starters,” Gorken answered promptly, “we could finally show you what made us come here in the first place.”

“Oh? And what would that be, handsome boy?” Kadem asked teasingly.

Malia was rummaging through her luggage as they talked, searching for the little book she had taken from the palace. Embarrassingly enough, she had completely forgotten about it until Gorken mentioned it, so adrift had she been in the silver witch’s aura. She handed the tome to Kadem, whose cocky smile turned into a cautious look as soon as her eyes landed on it, “Where did you find this?”

“In the vault at the northern palace.” Malia replied, “I happened to see it as we-”

“You didn’t happen to see it.” Kadem asserted, her gut twisting in a manner she had forgotten it could, “This book is cursed.  It was meant to find me. You were just a tool in bringing it here.”

“How is that possible?” Gorken objected, “I was there when Malia picked it up. We went into that vault to look for my sword, she just chanced upon it when it fell down.”

“A curse is a spell that transcends the lifetime of the caster. It’s a will so strong, that even after the magician is no more it keeps shaping events around itself to accomplish a goal. I can feel the curse in this book, but I can’t tell what its true purpose is.” Kadem placed the book on the table, as if she feared opening it, “But rest assured, you bringing this here was not a coincidence.” She left her seat abruptly and headed to the passageway, “Find something to do while I take a look at its pages. Do not bother me until I come out.”

“Wait!” Hedera yelled, chasing after Kadem. She clutched the tall woman’s skirt, “We need your help too!”

Kadem gazed down at her, surprised at the boldness of the little demon. Hedera had also startled herself; when she realized she was clinging tightly to Kadem’s dress, she let go of it in a hurry, stepping back clumsily.

“We came here seeking your help, Lady Kadem.” Licorice joined her sister’s plea.

“Lady Kadem?” the silver woman repeated, pleased. “I like how that sounds. Keep talking, small ones.”

“We want you to lift our curse!” Hedera requested.

“Your curse?” Kadem inquired, playing with one of her silver curls.

Hedera grasped the edges of her tunic apprehensively, “One day we woke up just outside the Whispering Woods. All we knew were our names, and that we had been banished from our home because we were born twins.”

“Nonetheless,” Licorice continued, “we still had a basic understanding of our connection to the earth. The trees and the flowers are our siblings. We are aware of the fact that our current form is not our true self. And yet, we have no idea what our purpose is. By all accounts we should be fallen demons, and yet we are not.”

The Whispering Woods…  They may not be ready yet. “You are not cursed.” Kadem clarified, “Whoever it was that banished you and bound you, they didn’t use magic and they are still alive. By what I can sense, you two should be able to break the seal on your own.”

“But how?!” Hedera shouted.

“By wishing it. As long as you both genuinely wish to break the seal, that should be enough. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

“What kind of useless sage are you then?!” Hedera pointed an angry finger at Kadem.

“Sister,” Licorice appeased her, “we possess the power to free ourselves. That knowledge is more than enough for me. I thank you deeply, Lady Kadem.”

“At least one of you is polite.” Kadem ruffled Hedera’s hair, “But I personally prefer your noisily lovable squirming.”

With that, Kadem headed once more to the passageway, eager to uncover the reason why the small book had shaken her to her core. This time, it was Malia that interfered, “Wait!”

“What is it now?” Kadem turned around, irritated, her curls bouncing at her aggravated motion, “Are you playing some kind of game, children?”

“I do have another question…” Malia replied in a tiny voice, already regretting halting the witch.

“I’m all ears then. Be concise.” Kadem softened her expression.

“The way you… read our feelings and thoughts… is that magic?” Malia’s question hadn’t been completely honest. She was more curious to know how she had been able to perceive fragments of Kadem’s being without ever having trained to do so, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that. It would have felt like revealing a profound secret. Some things were meant to be left unsaid.

Malia immediately doubted that conviction when Kadem stared her down. The silver woman took her time to speak again, as if evaluating her options. Finally, she sighed, “It’s the same as when you get a ‘bad feeling’ from someone. A person’s intent is magic in its most primitive form, a faint manifestation of the will. Sometimes we can sense that.” Kadem shifted her focus from Malia to the boys, “And some can learn to sense more than vague intent. Usually, what people want to hide is what they think about the most… fear is often the easiest to sense.” Being a silver child gave her an unfair advantage in parsing other people, but she left that part out. She wasn’t ready to explain it.

Kadem then narrowed her eyes, “Aldous was it? You’re afraid of your front crumbling down, I think.” Before Aldous could respond she was already inspecting Bayard, “You have a… particular way of fearing death.” Bayard had no visible reaction, and Gorken’s turn came, “In time you’ll learn that hiding from fear solves nothing, pretty boy.” Gorken was unflinching, but his friends could see the subtle clenching of his jaw.

Kadem returned her attention to Malia, “And you’re so straight forward and simple it fails to be amusing, Plum.” Kadem probably meant to be somewhat disparaging, but Malia welcomed the appraisal as a compliment. Simplicity could be a beacon in the midst of mysteries and riddles.

“I can’t believe you managed to get even more boring.” Kadem concluded out loud when she noticed Malia’s contentment. “I trust now you’ll let me go in peace. I’m not as familiar with this alphabet as I’d like,” she caressed the spine of the book, “so I’ll need the quiet… And time too. Seven days will serve.”

“…A week is a long time.” Gorken expressed his unrest.

Aldous took the chance to snap out of the troubled trance Kadem had left him in, “Should we return and report back to the Council?”

“We won’t tell them yet.” Gorken commanded, “The last thing the rebellion needs is another gateway into chaos. There are enough uncertainties as it is. We can’t divulge what we know until we have a course of action in mind… But we should go back to headquarters. I’ve been away from our companions lately; I need to spend a few days amidst them.”

“Yes, do that.” Kadem buried her aversion to being left alone beneath her assured behest, “Leave me be and return in seven days. I’ll have deciphered these pages by then. And keep your mouths shut about my existence; I won’t tolerate anyone else snooping around my home.”

“What about the twins?” Bayard reminded them.

Hedera and Licorice gazed up at Gorken nervously, aware that he would have the final word. He knew the safest move was to leave them with Kadem. Two alarmingly human little demons had no place in the rebellion. A while back he would have made the decision without hesitation. But in a hopeful world where Malia was still alive, and a character from a legend could lecture him on the history of the kingdom… he wanted to believe all could go well, that naïve sentimentality could lead somewhere other than tragedy. This same world didn’t spare Sven and Avah. “…What do you want to do?” he addressed the little girls at last.

“I want to go with you.” Hedera whispered, clinging to Bayard’s trousers.

“As do I.” Licorice agreed, “I apologize for our selfishness.”

“Very well.” Gorken got a hold of his luggage in one resolute motion, mindful he would regret his decisions if he gave himself the time to do so, “We’ll be back in a week’s time. Until then, Kadem.” He stepped toward the exit.

“Farewell, Lady Kadem.” Licorice bowed her head, “I thank you for your kindness and your patience.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot. Try not to fall asleep again!” Aldous yelled the last part as he ran out of the tree, almost escaping. Bayard atoned for Aldous’ mockery with a politely discreet salute, and Hedera trailed close behind him.

When only Malia and Kadem were left inside the tree, the princess felt the curious need to reassure the witch, “We’ll be back. I promise. Thank you for everything.”

Kadem could only exhale a modest, private laugh as she remained by the door, watching the group being swallowed by the distant limbs of the Gray Forest. They were all so young, and small, and frail. Mere flowers so preoccupied with blooming they overlooked that winter would inescapably entomb them. They were precious. She savored the air, alive for the first time in centuries. Should I have told Gorken that the same curse that binds this book binds him as well? No, not yet. I should get to work if I want to be done by the time they return.

Argent, Arian… please lend me your strength.