The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) Read online

  Published by Raconteur House

  Manchester, TN

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  THE DREAMER’S CURSE: BOOK TWO OF THE ARTIFACTOR

  A Raconteur House book/ published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Raconteur House mass-market edition/May 2014

  Copyright © 2014 by Honor Raconteur

  Cover Illustration by Honor Raconteur

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information address:

  Raconteur House

  164 Whispering Winds Dr.

  Manchester, TN, 37355

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  www.raconteurhouse.com

  Other books by Honor Raconteur

  Published by Raconteur House

  THE ADVENT MAGE CYCLE

  Book One: Jaunten

  Book Two: Magus

  Book Three: Advent

  Book Four: Balancer

  Advent Mage Compendium

  The Dragon’s Mage

  Special Forces 01

  The Midnight Quest

  Kingslayer

  THE ARTIFACTOR SERIES

  The Child Prince

  The Dreamer’s Curse

  Sometimes, the strength to get back on one’s feet

  after defeat is more important than

  the strength that makes one invincible.

  - Kyou Shirodaira, Spiral: Suiri no Kizuna

  Sevana had both hands entwined in a particularly hairy trap mechanism for zippels when Big announced, Two intruders.

  Two? Sevana had thieves show up here every now and again, lured by the idea of raiding her storerooms and selling her magical items on the black market for a pretty price. But they usually showed up in large groups or all alone. She rarely had small parties. “Are they inside?”

  Main tunnel, Big responded.

  “Well, you know what to do. Is Baby helping this time?” Sometimes when they had intruders, Baby and Big would tag team so that Big would create tunnels that infinitely looped and Baby would happily chase them until they miraculously stumbled across an exit.

  No, Big denied, sounding a little glum.

  Well, the cat might be out hunting, or even napping, considering it was still early in the day. Well, early for Sevana at least. With a shrug, she refocused on her work and didn’t spare another thought for the hapless intruders inside of her mountain.

  It had been a peaceful almost-three months since Bel and company finally left. In that time, the government had slowly stabilized with Aren back in control. She’d gone back to her normal routine now that she didn’t have a dozen people trying to claim her attention. Her eternal Artifactor’s License had arrived not a month after the victorious return to Lockbright Palace, and she had framed it and displayed it prominently in her workroom. (The better to gloat about, of course.)

  The trap nearly sprung itself twice as she set it, which made her think that her design for this really needed to be simplified before she accidentally lost a hand. Frustrated, she tossed it into a corner, where it made a very satisfying crash, and lifted her arms above her head in a long stretch. Alright. Maybe she should go look at that task list Kip had written up for her yesterday. Who knew? There might be something urgent written on it.

  But as she rose from her chair and headed for her research room, she noticed that the floor had risen a few inches, blocking the door. Big had developed this simple way of alerting her to danger and to keep people from carelessly entering the hallways while he played with the stupid intruders.

  “Big? Are the intruders still here?”

  Yes, Big rumbled, agitated. Outside main door.

  Outside the main door? Her head canted to the side. She’d had a variety of overly ambitious and stupid thieves visit here over the years, but she hadn’t yet met one brazen enough to sit outside of her main door in broad daylight. Hmmm. Maybe Big had jumped to conclusions too quickly about the nature of their guests. Perhaps these were not thieves at all.

  “Let me out.”

  Big moved the floor back to its normal position so she could open the door. Beyond curious, she headed up to the top level, snagging her sword and a shielding wand on the way. When she exited out onto the clearing at the very top of Big, she closed the door firmly before walking down a side trail that meandered toward the bottom of the mountain. She’d actually worn this trail herself, as she found it necessary on a regular basis to come out and see for herself who stood in front of her door. The trail abruptly ended at a rather large tree growing out the side of the mountain, right above the door, and it gave her the perfect way of perusing her guests without them seeing her.

  The air still felt nippy, even though winter had more or less passed. She saw signs of spring as she walked through the trees: blossoms starting to bud, leaves regaining their strength under the pale warmth of the sun. It took some care on her part to avoid the leftover leaves of fall. They were perfectly dry and brittle, ready to give away her position if she put a careless foot down. In fact, she had to focus on the trail so much that she couldn’t spare more than a glance upwards now and again toward her destination, and so didn’t see her visitor until she finally reached the thick oak tree.

  With her hands against the rough bark, she leaned into the solid trunk and put her head around it just enough to get a good look.

  A man in his early twenties sat directly in front of the door, legs crossed comfortably, hands on his knees. His straight dark hair had been closely shaven on the lower half of his head, the top layer grown out to collect in a ponytail high at the crown. He possessed the strong nose, jaw, and cheekbones of a Kindin, but his white shirt, simple leather vest, and dark pants said Windamere. At his waist, strapped to his back, and in his boot, he carried a variety of daggers; one sword; and a bow lying on the ground beside him. She didn’t need clairvoyance to know this man’s occupation: hunter.

  At his other side sat one of the largest wolves known in Mander. His fur was black as midnight, eyes a golden topaz that shone like old gold. He wore an earring in one ear, and the way he sat scanning the area around him with eyes and nose, spoke of high intelligence.

  A hunter and a wolf. What a fascinating combination to find on one’s doorstep.

  The wolf’s nose twitched, several times, then his head came up and around as if homing in on her location. She knew the instant he spotted her for he shifted into a standing position and gave a soft huff.

  His master took instant notice and also looked up, his dark eyes finding her with unerring accuracy. These two had clearly spent too much time together.

  Spotted, she gave up on hiding and came around the tree into full view, moving down three steps so that she stood directly above her own door.

  “You are not a thief,” she observed.

  “I am not,” he responded, voice deep enough to vibrate rocks. “Are you an Artifactor?”

  So, he had indeed come to see her, and wasn’t here because of some silly mistake in directions. “I a
m.”

  “Good.” He gained his feet effortlessly, gathering up his bow as he stood and settling it over his shoulder with the ease of long habit. “My name is Decker. I’m here with a job request for Artifactor Sevana Warran. You match her description. Do I have the right person?”

  “You do.” She cocked her head, still studying him from head to toe. She knew that accent. She’d heard it before—on the very edge of Windamere’s borders, to be precise. The clothes and looks fit, too. She’d bet her eye teeth he came from the Kindin-Windamere border. “Most people, you know, go to my business manager with job requests.”

  “He’s a mite difficult to track down at the moment and I didn’t have time to chase after him,” Decker responded. His tone remained level as he spoke, but lines of strain and fatigue deepened around his eyes.

  This man had come a very long way to speak to her directly. Whatever had sent him here wasn’t trivial. “You’ve succeeded in getting my attention, Hunter.” With a casual hop, she jumped the seven feet to the ground and landed easily. “First thing—is that an Illeyanic wolf?”

  Decker blinked, the first sign of surprise he’d shown in front of her. “He is. Most people aren’t familiar enough with the breed to recognize him on sight.”

  She didn’t bother to explain that Master had a wolf of the same breed and that she had spent enough time around him to know that this breed of wolves had more intelligence than most people. She just turned and addressed the wolf directly. “Wolf.” When he looked at her, she continued, “I have a mountain lion that claims this place as his territory. I’d take it kindly if you didn’t start a fight with him.”

  The wolf cocked an ear at her and gave a soft whine of understanding.

  “Well enough.” To Decker, she waved a hand toward the door. “Come inside. I’ll hear your request.”

  He hadn’t lost his tense posture, but he let out a short breath of relief. “Thank you.”

  Sevana led the way inside, shutting the door behind them. These two moved well—if not for the slight scuff of boot heels on stone floors, she would not have known they were there. They didn’t ask her anything as she escorted them into the main room. “Take a seat.”

  Decker took the love-seat, not sitting so much as dropping into it. She hadn’t seen a horse, but he might very well have left it in the village before making his way up here. The way he sank into the couch made her think he’d ridden hard and long to get here quickly.

  She paused long enough to throw another two logs on the fire before folding herself into her favorite armchair. The wolf chose to lie down at his master’s feet, but he watched her every bit as carefully as she did him. Yes, a very interesting pair. This man had to be very successful to dress as well as he did, not to mention own a wolf as expensive as this one. But successful or not, why would he come here with a job request? Hunters dealt with their own business, usually, and didn’t look for outside help.

  “Alright, Hunter, what’s the request?”

  “I come here on behalf of my village.” The way he started made it sound as if he had rehearsed this a hundred times in his head. “We are under a curse.”

  She put up a hand to stop him. “Wait, wait, the whole village is cursed? You’re not speaking of the majority?”

  “All of us, except four men,” he answered grimly. “And I’m included among those four. Only the hunters are unaffected, although I’m not sure how long that will last.”

  Why only the hunters…? She waved him on, eager to hear the whole story.

  “The curse has been in effect roughly four months, although we didn’t realize it was a curse at first. The curse is this: whenever someone dreams of a place, they wake up in that actual place. They are physically transported there.”

  Sevana blinked at him, her mind not quite able to accept what her ears had just heard. “So if a person lies down to sleep, and dreamed of being in the middle of the ocean—”

  “Then he would wake up in the middle of the ocean come morning,” Decker finished, expression tight. “Every single person in the village, from the youngest child to the oldest elder, has experienced this at least once. Most of them, multiple times.”

  “How far are they transported?”

  “The range is increasing. At first, it was just a mile or so. We thought it nothing more than a case of sleepwalking and took measures against it. But then it became obvious it was more than that—that some other power had to be at work. The current record is seventy-five miles.”

  Seventy-five miles?! Sevana’s mouth dropped open, eyes bulging. The man must be pulling her leg. Transporting someone that far took an insane amount of magical energy! “How long ago was this?”

  “The morning I left.” Decker grimaced in a humorless smile. “Actually, that was the catalyst that made me leave. I knew that if we didn’t get an expert soon, someone that could truly help us, the situation would only get worse. And I don’t want to see how bad it can get.”

  She steepled both hands in front of her mouth, mind whirling. A transportation spell that could take someone seventy-five miles away, one that grew with every passing day, that could affect an entire village. She had never heard of such a thing. Even during the days of the great magic, spells like that were only used very rarely, and never on such a scale. “Where is your village precisely?”

  “It’s called Chastain. It’s near—”

  “The Kindin-Windamere border,” she finished his sentence this time with a quirk of her brows. “Some ten miles from Vanorman, isn’t it?”

  He sat back and gave her a slow, acknowledging nod of approval. “You know your geography.”

  “Not really. But I do know Chastain. They are the best and most consistent suppliers of pelts in Windamere. I am a faithful customer of your village.” Not that she had ever been there personally, but she regularly had things shipped to her from there. “But if someone was transported from Chastain 75 miles out, then where did they end up?”

  “Ence,” he replied. “Fortunately. If they had landed in Kindin, it would have been very troublesome to get them back. So far, everyone has been taken to some part in Windamere or just along its borders. I don’t expect our luck to hold in that regard.”

  As he shouldn’t.

  “We hunters have spent day after day hunting our missing people down and bringing them back. It’s getting harder to find them, so much so that we’ve had to hire magicians to help us. But no one could do more than trace their whereabouts. They couldn’t tell us what caused the curse, or how to stop it, or even how to contain it. The last magician we spoke to suggested hiring an Artifactor, as you would be better suited to solve the puzzle. Then I heard of what you did in the Child Prince’s case—he had been abandoned as a lost cause too, but you broke his curse.” Decker leaned forward, eyes and voice intense. “Help us. Please.”

  Sevana felt inclined to take on the job just because it sounded like a marvelous challenge. After Bel’s case, she hadn’t had any fun riddles to unravel at all. She would probably do it for free just for the sheer intellectual excitement. But Kip had drilled it into her to never say such a thing and always get a price upfront. “What’s your price?”

  “One year’s worth of pelts, at your discretion and choosing,” he offered without a second of hesitation.

  Ooooh, spiffy. What a good price. That would save her a lot of money. “Alright.” She hit the armrests with both hands and levered herself nimbly to her feet. “I’ll take the job.”

  Decker’s eyes closed in relief. “Thank you,” he said huskily.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she warned cheerfully. “I’ve never heard of anything like this and I have no idea if I can help at all. But yours is the first good challenge I’ve heard yet this year, so I’ll tackle it. Hmmm. But if we’re going to Chastain, I’ll need to pack a few things and make some preparations.” She’d have to send a note to Kip telling where she was headed (he threw fits if she didn’t warn him), lock up her storerooms to prevent anything from spo
iling, get the skimmer out, pack enough food for two people and a wolf to get north—wait, come to think of it…. “Did you ride here?”

  “Yes.” Decker stood as well, adjusting the bow to ride over his shoulder again. “I left Roki in the village, as I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to see you today or not.”

  “Go get him,” she ordered. “We’re not going to travel by land, but by skimmer. Pick up any supplies you want to travel with while you’re in the village. I have a few loose ends to tidy up and some packing to do, but I think we can leave in about two hours.”

  Decker actually smiled at her, teeth flashing white in his tanned skin. “You’re willing to leave today?”

  “Oh, on this sort of thing, I don’t give curses time to create more havoc. Leaves more of a mess to clean up.” She shooed him out, following as he left the room.

  As she stepped into the hallway, Big whispered, Caller.

  “Caller?” Oh, right, she’d left it in the research room. “Who is it?”

  Decker and the wolf seemed unnerved by this bodiless voice and were craning their necks around, frantically trying to identify the source.

  Pierpoint.

  Oh? Pierpoint only called her with magical questions or impossible requests. Sevana headed for the Caller, having just enough pity to explain over her shoulder, “The voice belongs to the mountain. He’s sentient.”

  Decker snapped around, eyes wide, but said, “Oh,” as if he had expected that answer. She placed a bet with herself that she’d make him crack before long.

  By the time she reached the Caller, it had already assumed Pierpoint’s features and was pacing agitatedly back and forth across the small tabletop’s surface. When she stepped inside, the Caller abruptly stopped, and Pierpoint’s tiny voice said, “Finally! Sevana, do you know anything about the village of Chastain’s curse?”

  She froze in midstep. “I just learned of it. But how did you hear of it?”