The Jack of Souls (Multi-award winner!)

Chapter 3b - Curse & Counterspell

Flat against the wall beside the door stood a girl, one hand clapped to her mouth as if holding in a scream. She might have been thirteen, all willow wands and ribs in a chambermaid’s dress and apron. He didn’t recognize her, which was odd because he knew all the maids by name.

“Gods leave me—” she said, in a tiny, breathless voice “—that was the curse everyone’s talking about!” She sidled toward the open door, eyes wide and white.

“Don’t worry. It isn’t contagious.”

“Almost killed that Caris lady — stay away!” she cried, as he started toward her.

He stopped.

She fixed him with eyes determined but full of fear. After several heartbeats, she said, “You don’t recognize me.”

He looked closer. Nothing about her mousy hair or somber mouth triggered his memory, though there was something familiar about her. 

“Lyla,” she said.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes searching hers.

“You won me from my master in the card game today. You freed me.”

“Of course!” He saw her then. How young she seemed without the paint and skin hugging dress. I see Mother Ganner got you some new clothes.”

Her eyes dipped to his nakedness and bobbed back up. “You want I should fetch you some, too? The cold don’t do you no favors.”

Harric let out a laugh of surprise. He was bare as an egg to his toes. “I’m—ah—it’s been quite a night.” He grabbed his trousers from the floor and threw them on.

As he synched up the bastard belt, she edged the rest of the way to the door, stopping only when she stood with a foot on the top step, ready to bolt. But she did not leave. She swallowed hard, as if steeling herself to speak. “I ain’t here to thank you. I’m here to pay my debt.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“My freedom ain’t worth nothing?”

Harric shrugged into his shirt. “That’s not what I mean. My payment was watching the expression on the face of your Wesite master as you burned the deed to your bondage. Anyway, I’m a dead man, and death cancels debts.”

“You don’t have to die today. I can tell you how to beat that curse. That’s how I aim to pay my debt.” She took a step forward, determination giving her courage.

Harric suppressed a roll of his eyes. “Another sure-fire cure for curses? Look, I’ve watched all the other victims of my mother’s curses, and they tried every counter curse they could find. None of them worked. Didn’t even delay their deaths. Just made them look pathetic. So, thank you, but if you don’t mind…” He gestured to the door to usher her out, but she stamped her foot, making a surprisingly loud bang. Her eyes blazed, wilting any remaining fear in them.

“Look, Lyla—”

“You better listen or you’re gonna be dead by sunset. You survived that fog, didn’t you? Her doom didn’t claim you. Why do you think that is?”

“The doom has till sunset.”

She put her hands on her hips as if addressing a particularly dense or stubborn child. “And this crawly talky fog was just normal weather around here? That doom came for you this morning, but you survived and I know why.”

Harric blinked. “So do I: because Caris intervened.”

“Hah! You Northies wouldn’t know magic if it fell from the sky and hit you. Answer me this:  All them other cursed folk had friends to help them. Mother Ganner told me all about it. But did any of them survive the fog?”