The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) Read online

  Place looked as she’d remembered, with the ridiculous gates guarding his front door. Jacen, like most Artifactors, chose to live near virgin forest and have access to a variety of natural elements. The four story brick building—which had all the size of a warehouse—sat right on the edge of the woods, the main door facing open grassland. He must have had quite the challenge shipping that much red brick here to build his house with, especially since it sat far removed from the nearest village.

  The ‘gates’ were actually tall columns of white sculptures that resembled two fearsome warriors in battle armor with a sword clutched in front of them. They stood as tall as the building. Jacen had put them there to discourage visitors, and most of the time, it worked like a charm.

  Sarsen joined her on the knoll and she fell in step with him, crossing to the narrow stone walkway that led straight to the front door.

  “Which personality do you think we’ll meet today?”

  Her companion grimaced. “He’s got four of them. It’s anyone’s guess.”

  Jacen had been cursed as a small child, and while the curse had been broken, it had done unexpected damage to his mind. His personality had split into four different types, each radically different than the next, and no one knew why he switched between one personality and the next. Most people found him unsettling to be around, hence why he chose to live in relative isolation, but to those that knew him, he was a good man and an excellent Artifactor. Sevana had only encountered three of his personalities so far and she usually found her visits with him to be entertaining, in one way or another.

  They stopped right in front of the two statues and looked up. A warding spell had been put around the property, and aside from breaking through it (which Sevana would do if necessary), the only way to get past it was to answer the questions the statues put to them.

  When they came close enough, the statues came alive and their eyes opened with a grating sound as stone moved against stone, heads turning in jerky intervals to see the visitors standing below them. In a deep voice that vibrated the air, they asked in unison, “You who have traveled far to reach this gate, do you seek passage to the Artifactor’s realm?”

  Sevana blinked. “Did he change the greeting? They didn’t say that last time.”

  Sarsen shrugged, unconcerned by this, and answered them. “We do.”

  “How may we know thee as friends?”

  Huh. They hadn’t said that last time either. Sevana no longer knew if she had the right answer to get past these louts or not. She glanced at Sarsen who looked just as confused and unsure of what to say.

  Thinking quickly, she offered, “We bring him knowledge he seeks and secrets that he can reveal.”

  Either her imagination was playing tricks on her, or did she see a hint of a smile behind those sculpted beards? “You may pass.”

  Well, they’d apparently liked that answer. Sevana passed through with an uncertain look overhead, not quite sure what Jacen had been thinking when he’d made those things. “Melodramatic, much?”

  “He’s always had a certain flare for that,” Sarsen observed, sounding resigned.

  “Well, sure, but isn’t this over the top?” Shaking it off, she lengthened her stride. The walkway wound around a few large plots of cultivated beds, none of which held flowers, but all sorts of different herbs. It’d still been arranged in an appealing way, inviting the eye to stop and look a little longer. Considerable care had been taken to make this closed-in yard clean and neat. Come to think of it, one of his personalities was the overly helpful sort…it would be just like him to obsess over appearances like this.

  They reached the front door of the house—a normal wooden one painted white this time—and Sarsen reached out to bang the brass knocker. It clanged in loud peals, leaving no doubt that anyone inside could hear it. For several seconds, they stood there with no sign of being heard, but then the sound of locks being undone came faintly through the wood. In the next instant, the door was jerked roughly open.

  Jacen stood in the doorway, black hair tied up in a high ponytail as usual, skin pale from lack of sunlight, his usual white coat smeared with all sorts of colors and metal filings from whatever he had been working on. The outright glare on his face didn’t match his usual expression though.

  Sevana tensed up. One could not, of course, tell by looking at a person from the outside which personality was in control. At least, not at first. But their expressions and mannerisms would give it away soon enough. This expression hinted strongly that Jacen didn’t inhabit his mind just now.

  “Ah, hello?” Sarsen ventured uncertainly, obviously picking up that they were being faced with one of the other personalities. “We’re here to speak with Jacen about—”

  “No,” Not-Jacen said vehemently before he slammed the door shut in their faces.

  She’d encountered this personality before. “Jaston,” she said in recognition.

  “Jaston,” Sarsen agreed in exasperation. “Why did we have to meet his grumpy personality straight off?”

  “He tends to switch between one and the other fairly quickly,” Sevana muttered to herself, trying to be hopeful about the situation. “Maybe if we give it a few minutes and try again, we’ll get Jacen.”

  “You know that’s wishful thinking.”

  “Shut it. I’m trying to think positive. Otherwise we’ve come all this way for nothing and we’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

  They waited impatiently in front of the door, not speaking for several long minutes before Sarsen blew out a breath and raised his hand, knocking again.

  It took a minute, as it had before, as if Jacen had retreated to some other section of the house and had to come back to the door. He even had to undo the same locks again. This time, however, he greeted them in an entirely different way. Jaston had obviously switched with another personality as instead of a growl and a slamming door, Not-Jacen lounged up against the doorframe, hip canted, arm braced so that he leaned toward them, eyes sultry, and gave his guests a head-to-toe scan. “Well, hello Sexy—” he purred.

  Sarsen grabbed the door handle and roughly slammed it shut.

  Sevana spluttered, staring up at him incredulously. “Ah, why did you do that?”

  “I am absolutely not dealing with Jocelin,” Sarsen said firmly, still gripping the door handle to prevent it from being opened.

  Jocelin? The personality that she’d never met before? “Wait, his fourth personality is a flirt?”

  “You don’t want to be around him, trust me. Of all of his personalities, that one is the most challenging to handle.”

  Sevana stared up at him, studying his expression. Why did he look slightly…panicky? “And you know this because?”

  “Prior experience.”

  Oh, did she ever want the full story on that. From the way Sarsen had clamped his jaw shut, it would take serious trickery to get it out of him, though. And likely, Jacen wouldn’t remember a thing about it because it was Jocelin that was in control and not him. Curse the luck.

  Several taut minutes ticked by before Sarsen carefully undid his grip on the door handle. Almost gingerly this time he knocked again. The process repeated of someone on the other side unlocking the bolts and opening the portal, but this time, it was a normal smile that greeted them. “Well, hello!”

  Sevana looked at him suspiciously. Two of the personalities she had a hard time differentiating between because on the surface, they were similar. Jensen reacted like Jacen in many ways, but where Jacen was a competent Artifactor, Jensen was a walking disaster. She didn’t know which man she had in front of her. “Hello,” she greeted. “It’s been a while.”

  “It has,” Jacen (?) agreed, smile widening. “Come in, come in. It’s unexpected to see you here together. Is this business, or…?”

  “We have come here for help,” Sarsen admitted. (Sevana noted the omission of ‘your help’ with interest. Sarsen didn’t know who they spoke with either, eh?) “We’ve come across a very troublesome artifa
ct that dates from the eighth century.”

  “Ohhh,” he responded, eyes lighting up. “Do tell. Still active and functioning?”

  “Unfortunately,” Sevana grumbled.

  Their host glanced at her, frown passing quickly over his face. “I sense a long story coming. Here, come in, let’s sit while you explain.”

  He waved them through the foyer and into another room, this one pleasantly decorated with landscapes on the walls and comfortable furniture arrayed around the room. Sevana took an armchair and sank into it with a sigh of leather, Sarsen taking the armchair next to hers. Their host sat across from them, taking an aging armchair that had seen better days and propping his feet up on a mismatched ottoman.

  “So, tell me what’s going on.”

  Sevana dutifully explained, not skipping any of the particulars, and started from when Decker had first come to her with a request for help. She went through everything until yesterday when Sarsen had arrived, ending with, “I have detailed diagnostics and scans for you to look at, since I can’t bring the artifact itself.”

  Jacen (?) had listened intently to all of this, hands clasped in front of his chin, eyes trained on her. “Fascinating. You know, I do believe I read about something like this. Hold on a moment, would you? Let me fetch it. I believe I remember which book it was in.” Without waiting for a response, he leaped lightly out of the chair and scurried off, heading for the back of the building.

  In a low tone, Sevana asked, “Is it Jacen or Jensen we’re dealing with?”

  “I can’t tell,” Sarsen growled. “They’re so alike in some ways. And he hasn’t moved around enough, or said enough, for me to spot any differences.”

  “And if it is Jensen?” She hated to think about that, but had to. “He’s already switched personalities three times in the past fifteen minutes, which has to be a new record for him. Typically his personalities stay for several hours at a time.”

  “Which means we’d need to stay and wait here for several hours before he could possibly switch to Jacen.”

  “Or Jocelin,” she said in resignation. “Or Jaston.”

  “I normally don’t mind all of this, but it sure makes matters difficult when it’s Jacen we need to speak with.” Sarsen rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “And we’re facing a dangerous situation, to boot. I surely do wish Master could find a way to regulate Jacen’s mind.”

  She shook her head. “The mind is a strange thing, stranger than anything else, and no one understands it. We still don’t know why Jacen’s mind broke in the first place. Besides, most of the time I find his other personalities entertaining.”

  “That’s because you have a twisted sense of humor.”

  Sevana laughed and didn’t even try to deny it.

  From somewhere deep within the building, a roar of flame burst out, flashing down the hallway with blue-green light. Tremors rocked through the house, shaking everything so that the glass windows rattled, and the very frame of the building moaned under the force of it.

  Sevana jerked to her feet and tore down the hallway, scrambling in her pouch for a shielding charm and a wand with her free hand even as she ran. Sarsen followed closely at her heels, yelling, “Jacen?! Are you alright? Answer me!”

  The flames still licked along the floor in little puddles at the very end of the hallway, silently indicating where they needed to go. Sevana skidded to a stop in front of the open doorway, avoiding the larger chunks of wood that used to be the door. She took in the sight with wide eyes and a whistle.

  Pre-explosion, this had probably been Jacen’s potions lab or something along those lines. Three tables sat in a large “I” shape, with the remains of vials, mortars, bottles and the like spread out along the surfaces. She couldn’t begin to guess what he had been working on judging from what little had survived the explosion, but the blue-green fire indicated that the highly volatile substance of captured shiranui had been involved somehow.

  The brunet Artifactor huddled underneath the tables in the fetal position, hands around his head, eyes screwed shut. He didn’t even looked singed, so the explosion must have gone up and outward, the tables protecting him.

  She and Sarsen sighed at the same time, “Jensen.”

  The man on the floor tentatively lowered his hands and opened his eyes. “Yes?”

  Sarsen waved his wand over the room, snuffing out what remained of the flames, before sinking down onto his haunches so he could meet the other man’s eyes. “Jensen, how did this happen?”

  “Ah, well, the book I wanted to show you was in this room on the back shelf—”

  A shelf under very heavy shields and wards, Sevana noted in amusement, likely to prevent Jensen from touching them or inadvertently destroying them.

  “—but I knocked into the corner of the table accidentally, and when I did, something fell over. I lost my balance and went straight to the floor, so I can’t tell you what it was, as I didn’t see it, but flames immediately went WHOOSH!” his hands spread out in demonstration. “What was that?”

  “Shiranui fire and something else,” Sevana supplied, a grin slowly spreading over her face. Oh, Jacen would be livid when he saw this mess. And he had no one to blame but himself, in a way.

  Jensen slowly climbed out from under the table and gained his feet. He looked around the room from one corner to the other, taking in the destroyed tables, the scorch marks on the wooden floor and (previously) white walls, the way the wards on the bookshelves still flickered in defense, and his face fell in open dismay. “Jacen’s not going to be happy about this.”

  “Understatement,” Sevana assured him, finding great pleasure in all of this. Visiting this place never got old.

  Sarsen sighed, and having pity on Jensen, offered, “We’ll help you clean this up, as much as we can.”

  “Oh, would you? Thank you ever so much.” Jensen went toward the main table with outstretched hands. “What should we do with all of this, do you—oops.”

  Several remains of glass bottles and vials fell from the table and crashed to the floor in a loud spray, sending glass shards in every direction. Jensen froze, hands poised over the table, and gave them a sheepish look.

  Sarsen looked at Sevana and muttered, “Do you think that if I shake him really hard, he’ll switch over to Jacen?”

  “Not a chance,” she denied pleasantly. “But I’d pay good money to watch you do it.”

  Jacen was indeed not happy when he came back to himself. Jensen switched out after the worst of the mess had been cleared away. Sevana knew almost instantly when the switch had been made because the other Artifactor stopped mid-motion, blinking as if coming to himself, and he took a good look around the room as if he hadn’t seen it before. Then his head fell back and he groaned, “What did Jensen do this time?”

  “Welcome back, Jacen,” Sevana greeted with an evil smile.

  He shot her a dark look. “What, you couldn’t prevent him from doing this?”

  “We weren’t actually sure it wasn’t you,” Sarsen apologized, putting the last of the remains of the door into a trash bag. He actually did regret it, unlike Sevana, who found the whole thing funny. “It’s hard for us to tell the difference between you and Jensen right off.”

  Jacen waved this away, as he’d heard similar things many times before, and turned to brace his back against the wall with a soft thud. “So what did he do?”

  “He knocked whatever potion you had brewing with shiranui fire over,” Sevana told him benignly. “Or so I assume, judging from the spectacular fireworks we saw of blue-green fire.”

  If it were possible for one personality to strangle another one, Jacen would have done it at that moment. He looked ready to commit murder, anyway. But he blew out a deep breath, letting go of his anger, and asked instead, “How long have you two been here?”

  “About three hours,” Sarsen answered, finally setting the cleanup work aside. “We actually came for your expertise.”

  “Oh?” Jacen’s eyes stopped r
oving over the half-destroyed room and finally settled on his two guests. “That sounds intriguing. You came across something from the old magicks?”

  “Something that is still active and causing trouble,” Sarsen confirmed with an unhappy stretch of the mouth. One couldn’t really describe it as a smile.

  Jacen, conversely, perked up with true interest. “It’s rare that anything from that time is still functional, much less capable of activating itself. What is it doing? And where is it?”

  Sevana mentally resigned herself to explaining all of this again (since Jacen hadn’t heard it the first time) and started from the top. As she explained the situation, Jacen interrupted her with questions now and again and even dove for his protected bookshelf at one point and grabbed an empty notebook to take quick notes in. She catalogued that reaction for future reference. If this situation ever came up again, the surefire way of knowing the difference between Jacen and Jensen would be that Jacen would ask questions.

  By the time she finished, Jacen worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at the notebook in his hands with unfocused eyes. “Sevana…I don’t like this picture you’re painting.”

  “What, you think I do?”

  “I can see why you’re worried. In fact, I’m worried.” He finally put the notebook aside so he could look at her directly, expression and voice intense. “I have never seen an artifact from that time rated so high in power. For that matter, I’ve never seen one that will use magic constantly like this, unchecked. They will occasionally activate themselves, certainly, but it usually only happens once. Mayhap twice. And you say this has been going on for months?”

  “About five, I believe.”

  He scrubbed at the back of his neck with an open hand, turning so that he could pace the width of the room in an agitated stride. “Are you sure that the shield’s power rating isn’t skewing the overall reading?”