The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) Read online

  “I do need more details,” Bel agreed.

  “Your Highness, I will tell you everything I can,” Decker responded gratefully, thawing from his nervousness. “But I’m afraid what I know can be easily summed up in a few sentences. I doubt I can add much to what Clari has already said.”

  “Regardless, come inside and tell me your take on this,” Bel invited with a wave of the hand. “Sevana?”

  “I’ll be talking with Pierpoint,” she informed him. “He has some information for me. Be warned, I plan to leave here in an hour, so make your questions quick and to the point.”

  Bel’s attention on her sharpened. “Is the situation that grave?”

  “I don’t dare give this—whatever it is—more time to escalate.”

  Bel’s eyes searched her expression for a moment and found whatever answer he needed. He nodded curtly. “I think I see. Then we’ll convene back at these steps in one hour.”

  “What is this?” Sevana whispered, voice shaking. She stared at the readings that Pierpoint had taken for her, grateful that she sat on a chair in his cluttered office, and wasn’t standing. She felt so shaken that her knees would likely have given out and sent her straight to the floor. The number written on the page in his scrawled handwriting wavered in front of her eyes. Numbly, she looked up at Pierpoint. “This must be a mistake. You had to have made a mistake.”

  He looked back at her soberly, eyes tight with worry. “I thought the same thing. I convinced myself the first two times I took the readings that I did something wrong. But I couldn’t convince myself the third time. It’s not wrong, Sevana.”

  She slammed the thick, leather-bound book down, making everything on the table jump and rattle. “This is so wrong that it’s beyond words! Sixteen. The power rating is sixteen! That’s simply unheard of, Pierpoint!”

  “I know.”

  Unable to contain herself, she shot to her feet and started stalking from one end of the room to the other. This proved a little difficult, with all of the cluttered worktables, bookshelves, and chairs crammed into the room, leaving a very narrow walkway. She batted away some of the herbs hanging from the ceiling as well, not slowing her pace, trying to escape the icy tendrils clawing at her spine. She didn’t have a lot of experience with this emotion, but she recognized it—raw fear.

  “This is unheard of,” she repeated, speaking more to herself than to him. “Even the anti-spells don’t go over fourteen. I’ve never seen anything more powerful than a fourteen! And those spells are ridiculously hard to create. They’re usually so unbalanced that they tear themselves apart before they can even do what they’re created to. How in the wide green world can anyone create something with a power level of sixteen and make it balanced enough to work?!”

  “That I don’t know.” Pierpoint dropped heavily into an armchair, making the springs squeak. He put his head in his hand, letting out a long sigh. “But our modern understanding of magic is limited compared to our ancestors. In the days of great magic, they could do something like this.”

  True. She paused mid-stride. “You think that this—whatever this is—is a relic from that time?”

  “It has all the earmarks of it. The only transportation magic that could move people over this kind of distance existed in those times. We certainly can’t do it now.”

  She opened a hand, silently acknowledging his point. That he had made the same assumption as she didn’t surprise her much. She stared sightlessly out of the narrow window, thoughts whirling. “But why would it activate now, almost five hundred years after the days of great magic? Why lie dormant for so long and then suddenly start working again?”

  “That, you’ll have to discover.” Pierpoint finally raised his head, his attempted smile strained and forced. “I don’t envy you the job. The book you just threw down is your copy, by the way. I have my own of the readings.”

  She grimaced at him, glancing back at the now closed book. The residual readings of a completed spell didn’t tell much. It would give the overall power level of the spell, perhaps a hint of what kind of magic it was—casted, cursed, or charmed—but little else. She would have to track down the source of this thing in order to divine what elements were used to make the transportations possible. “How much do the royals know?”

  “I explained what I knew. They understand that this is unheard of, perhaps dangerous, but I don’t think it really sank in how dangerous until they saw your reaction downstairs.” Pierpoint shook his head. “After all, nothing rattles you.”

  “This just did.” She blew out another breath, trying to become calm. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone.

  “You’re going to need help on this one,” he informed her, not unsympathetic.

  “If you mean good help, then yes.” She wouldn’t say something like ‘I’ll take any helping hand at this point’ because bad help was no help at all.

  Pierpoint glanced at the grandfather clock tucked in between two bookshelves and heaved himself to his feet, making the chair squeak again. “We need to go back down. Our hour is nearly up.”

  She caught up her book with the readings, tucking it into her pouch at the waist as she followed him out the door and down the winding stairs. Pierpoint lived and studied at the top of the east tower (people always wanted to put magicians at the top of towers for some reason), so it took a considerable hike to get back down to the main level of the castle and to the courtyard where they had left a horse and parked skimmer. Bel, Aren, Hana, Decker and his niece Clari were already waiting in the courtyard. They turned almost in unison as the two magicians arrived.

  Aren took a slight step forward, hand raising to catch their attention. “Pierpoint, Sevana, I have a better grasp of the situation now. Sevana, what can we do to help?”

  “I need several things,” she informed him as she passed through the open doorway and into the sunshine. “First, I want magicians. I can put locating and shielding charms on everyone in the village so we can find them easily, but it’ll still take time to run them all down and bring them back. That’s time I don’t have. I need to focus on the problem at hand and not be constantly distracted.”

  “So you need magicians to retrieve the villagers,” Bel summed up.

  “Not just any magicians,” she corrected, lifting a finger. “Magicians who specialize in retrieval or transportation magic. I imagine that Pierpoint would know where to find them.”

  Pierpoint nodded in support of this. “Indeed, yes. I can think of several off the top of my head, in fact.”

  “Call them in,” Aren commanded him. “I want them there as quickly as possible. I’m declaring this a state of emergency and I want people to act accordingly.”

  Thank all mercy he saw the direness of the situation and she didn’t have to beat that into him. For one thing, she didn’t have the time to spare to beat it into him right now. “Second thing: I’m going to need expert help. I have never heard of or seen something like this before. But I do know two people who might know something about it. Aren, give me an unlimited purse to work with. These two men are good but they’re certainly not cheap.”

  “You have it,” he answered without hesitation. Turning to his son, he said, “Bel, get me a royal seal for her to use.” As Bel took off in a sprint back inside, Aren explained, “It’ll work like a purse for you. Just write me a letter or quick note about whom this person is and what you owe, press the seal onto the paper, and send it to me. I’ll see it’s paid for.”

  Good enough. “One last thing. I left a note for Kip, but I didn’t know just how bad this situation was at that point. If he comes to you with questions, answer them, but do not let him follow me in there. I have no idea what’s going on in that village and can’t predict what will happen if a stranger stays there.”

  “Worried about his safety?” Hana asked, tone and expression sympathetic.

  “I just don’t want this dreamer’s curse affecting him too and giving me someone else to track down every morning,” Sevana grouched. “Now. W
here’s Bel with that seal?”

  “Here!” he called from behind her. Bel skidded to a stop not a moment later, not at all winded or flushed, and handed the seal to her.

  It looked impressively genuine with the embossed coat of arms of the Dragonmanovich family in a ceramic disk that filled her entire palm. It also had a surprising bit of weight. Sevana dropped it into her waist pouch and gave him a nod. To Aren she added, “I think I can reach Chastain in a day, perhaps even by late tonight. I’ll take over finding people once I arrive, but I don’t want to do that for long. Get those magicians up there as quickly as possible.”

  “We will,” he promised her.

  She’d done all she could here. With a nod to the whole family, she spun on a heel and headed straight for the skimmer, gesturing for her passengers to follow as she walked. “Load up, people.”

  It took some serious coaxing to get both wolf and stallion back on board. Sevana didn’t even try to help Decker during this process, just sat in her chair and impatiently tapped out an irritated rhythm against the wooden deck. The worst delay was Clari, who had to say proper goodbyes to her hosts, but eventually the little girl climbed on board too.

  Satisfied that everyone had settled enough to not fall off, Sevana lifted the skimmer off the ground with a slight scrape and groan. Clari clapped her hands and laughed aloud. “Uncle Deck, we’re flying!”

  Oh? Sevana cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Unlike her uncle, Clari apparently had no fear of heights and was looking around with wide-eyed wonder. She kept asking questions on how this all worked, and wasn’t satisfied with the one word answer of “Magic” that her uncle gave her, either.

  Sevana lost track of their conversation as she navigated their way around the top parts of the palace and higher into the air, then pointed due north. It always felt exhilarating up here, with the wind rushing past her skin and ruffling her hair. This season of the year, it carried hints of spring and growing things that tickled her nose and cleared her head. As scary as the “curse” was, she couldn’t focus on it entirely and lose focus of everything else. She inhaled a deep lungful and let it out again, feeling better for it.

  “Clari, please don’t go so close to the edge,” Decker pleaded nervously.

  Sevana hooked the skimmer up to a long stream of clouds before daring to half-turn in her seat. Clari stood right at the railing, both hands on the top, and her head leaning out over the side to see the ground below. Decker had grabbed her by the ankles and was insistently tugging at her, trying to draw her back toward the center.

  “Uncle Deck, I’m alright,” she insisted, not letting go of the railing.

  “You’re not alright,” he shot back. “What if you fall?”

  “She can’t,” Sevana piped up, finding the sight humorous. When Decker shot her a confused look, she elaborated, “There’s a charm on this vessel that prevents people from falling. She can’t go more than three inches before the charm will activate and push her back inside.”

  “An anti-falling charm,” he grumbled not quite under his breath as he released his hold on Clari’s ankles. “Now she tells me.”

  Sevana cackled.

  ~ ~ ~

  They picked up a tailwind from the south and made better time than Sevana had dared hope for. They arrived at Chastain just as the sun was setting. She got a very good bird’s-eye view as they slowly reduced their altitude, coming in to land at the village’s outskirts. From the air, it certainly didn’t look like much. It had that interesting blend of Kindin and Windamere architecture—the bold colors of the trimming on the houses were pure Windamere, but the bases were made of stone and brick instead of the usual thatch and wood. This village hadn’t just grown every which way as most did, but had a semblance of order to it. Actually, it looked like a giant spider web. The center had a very large fountain that gushed water endlessly with a courthouse, bank, church and meeting hall around it in a small circle. Then from there were short streets that connected to four long streets, all with either businesses or homes, all of which glowed with lamplight at this late hour. It seemed like a very peaceful, unassuming place.

  Pity appearances were so deceiving.

  Even at this hour, someone noticed them coming in, and a loud bell rang out three times in quick succession. Several people poured out of their homes and rushed toward the edge of town, all of them carrying weapons of various sorts. Considering recent events, and the interesting neighbors they had in Kindin, Sevana didn’t blame them for their caution. “Decker, shout out a word before someone tries to shoot arrows at us.”

  He didn’t get the chance before his niece beat him to the railing, leaned out, and called down in a surprisingly loud voice, “Don’t worry! It’s us!”

  From below a voice called back faintly, “CLARI?!”

  “Yes, it’s me! Uncle Deck’s here too!”

  A lot of chattering went around in the group below, but no one tried to get more information until Sevana found a clear spot to land. Most of the area seemed to be farmland with a smattering of trees here and there. She found a spot big enough for the skimmer quite easily and set it down with a solid thump. As she furled in the sails and secured the charts at the desk, her passengers gratefully got off, the horse more so than anyone.

  Seven men crowded around, all of them firing off questions in quick succession. Sevana stepped onto the cool grass slowly, eyeing each one of them in turn. In this group, she would say two men were hunters (both older than Decker), one of them a butcher (judging from that wicked knife in his hand), one retired soldier, and three other burly men that she couldn’t quite pin a profession to offhand. One of the men took Clari by the hand and escorted her directly into the village, and likely to her very anxious parents.

  “This is Artifactor Sevana Warran. She’s agreed to help us,” Decker said to the others.

  “Gentlemen,” she greeted with a general nod to the group. “I need to speak to the mayor or whatever leader you have in this village.”

  “We have an ombudsman,” Decker volunteered. “He’s our mayor, of sorts.”

  “That’s fine. Take me to him. We have things to do this very night to prevent mischief happening tomorrow.” Oh, wait. Snapping her fingers, she pointed at the grandfather clock still on the skimmer. “And I need two men to carry that.”

  “Ummm…” the butcher looked at the grandfather clock with misgiving. “Begging pardon, Miss Artifactor, but two men can’t be carrying the likes of that.”

  “It has a weight cancellation charm on it,” she explained impatiently. “It’s not heavy, just awkward. Move.”

  Decker, at least, understood the importance of the clock well enough to instantly climb back on board. With his lead, two other men climbed inside after him and assisted in moving the clock out of the skimmer. As they carefully maneuvered the clock free, Sevana directed, “Take it to whatever inn or house that I’m staying in while I’m here. I’ll set it up properly in a minute. For now, take me to the ombudsman.”

  One of the huntsmen extended a hand to her, his craggy features somewhat undiscernible in this twilight lighting. “I’m Muller, Miss Artifactor. If you’ll follow me.”

  She accepted the arm. “Sevana. Call me Sevana. Let’s go.”

  He waved her onto a gravel road that led directly to the main street, from the look of things. She hadn’t parked far from the village so it took bare minutes to reach the outskirts. As she walked, a heavyset man with white hair ran toward them, tugging on a jacket as he moved.

  “Krause!” Muller raised a hand and waved, getting the other man’s attention.

  Krause waved back but didn’t say anything until he lumbered to a stop. “I heard Clari’s back,” he said to Muller, his eyes on Sevana. “Who’s this?”

  “Sevana Warran, an Artifactor,” Muller introduced succinctly. Krause’s eyes lit up with relief and pleasure. “Sevana, this is Krause, our Ombudsman.”

  “Sir,” she greeted. “I’ll make this short as we have a lot to do tonig
ht. I’m going to put locating and protective charms on every man, woman and child in this village. I need you to call them all. Now.”

  He didn’t even think to question her. He just gave a short sigh of relief before promising, “They’ll be at the main square within a half hour.”

  “Good. Go.” As Krause ran back through the village, calling out to people as he went, she turned to Muller and said, “I need a place to set up. Somewhere quiet where I can work and think.”

  Muller stroked his chin for a moment and thought. “How much room do you need?”

  “A single room will suffice.” If she needed any more room than that, she could always retreat to Big and work there for a day. But she didn’t think it would come to that.

  “Then the court building has a back room that’s fairly empty. Just a table and some chairs in there.”

  “Perfect.” She turned to see that the clock was steadily catching up with her. “The clock needs to go in there. I have to fetch some things before I meet with everyone in the village.”

  Muller looked at her blankly, not following at all. “How do you fetch things with a clock?”

  She smirked at the man. “Watch and be amazed, huntsman.”

  The room they gave her to work in could not have been more bland. Four dark paneled walls, a threadbare carpet on the floor, and that simple rectangular table with eight chairs Muller had mentioned to her. But it suited her needs down to the ground. She didn’t have to worry about shoving someone else’s clutter out of the way to make room for her own.

  Sevana spent the majority of the night setting up shop, so to speak. She calibrated the clock to connect to the one in Big, went through to fetch her charms, and then stayed up until well past midnight attaching them to every person in the village. As she put the charms on them, the glow board she’d tacked onto the wall updated and kept not only a running tally for her, but a precise location. It was this map board that she would use in the future to determine where people had been randomly transported to.