Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Twenty-Two

It had been a truly horrendous night and subsequent morning and Sylvester was raggedly exhausted. But they still had a ways to go.


And, for some reason, Terry, currently distraught, though that Cherry Tee could help them.


Cordia, as it had been termed by the locals, wasn’t a place for them to remain for too much longer.


Seeing Cherry, Sylvester could only think of that poor man, and father, and husband. Herb Tee was his name and Sylvester was fairly certain he might never forget it. Herb had literally been transformed from a human into something else: a dread terror known as a night dragon. Tuette had explained it to Sylvester during their quick trip to the wall. The black scales dropped by the other night dragon were the key. It was the only reason the night dragons shed scales: so they could transform others. Tuette said that the dragon had muttered some words of activation to no one in particular. Incidentally, they were heard by some people called Audience Members, which Dermy had mentioned once before but never explained, and they made it so that whoever possessed that dragon’s scales would also become a night dragon.


Sylvester recalled that Cherry had been enamored by the scale’s attractiveness. It seemed like a hearty lesson for any who would look to steal or acquire an item of beauty. He realized then that that must be why the folk of Cordia didn’t openly possess such material items. Everything he had seen in the few homes he had invaded – there was no other word for it, he knew – was limited in value but still served basic purposes.


How many of these people have been lost to night dragons, then? Porlyen said they lived in a nearby cave system but the Cordians didn’t focus on that death toll: just the one that was tallied against the Ring of Ten Minus Two. But that had failed them and, on an odd whim, Sylvester had suggested they inspect the possibilities that might rest in the bin’vines that Cordia’s leader had mentioned. It had actually seemed like a means of getting some free food, which they desperately had needed, but now with Terry’s equally odd actions, it had seemed like an almost divinely inspired suggestion.


Of course, his attitude only made Sylvester think, in the back of his mind, that Terry had been taken by one of those Artificials again. The ones that Count Roost kept sending Sylvester’s way. He had thought from time to time about it and decided that it might be beneficial to ask Tuette if something could be done to block such takings.


But Terry was acting in a different manner of oddness. He was coherent and had even told Tuette that he wanted to say one thing but only managed to say another. It was usually a bunch of yes’s, no’s, or I don’t know’s but they seemed to somehow provide a direction that the group should take.


Until he singled Cherry out, after Sylvester had uttered her name. What she was doing here, the king had no clue. Her mother seemed wholly distraught. But Cherry... wasn’t. Sylvester remembered, long ago, when he had learned of his own father’s death. He couldn’t help but still feel guilty because he had behaved almost like Cherry was now. How could any other reaction have been expected? He was born and the earliest memories were from Majramdic. Still, he couldn’t help but feel terrible for not feeling for his own predecessor.


Lately, all he ever thought of was King Gould. The fact that his kingstone had been similarly limited did make things easier. But the unease over his death only compounded because he had been in the very same situation as Sylvester himself might now be. Minus the impending Curse, of course.


Cherry stepped away from the crowd finally. Tuette asked Terry again if she was the one who could help with the bin’vines. He confirmed with Vest embracing the man as a father might embrace a child. Surely Terry wasn’t Vest’s child? Thinking on that, Sylvester recalled learning that the Gousheralls loosely followed the example set by the king in that their bloodlines usually remained consistent with protecting the king when he needed it. Of course, they don’t have kingstones or even guardstones. I think.


No, he was the only one in that situation. It somehow saddened him to know that.


Tuette began to almost interrogate Cherry, apparently forgetting that she had just lost her father to some malicious Curse. Her lack of emotionality might’ve made it easier though. “How can you help us? With the vines, I mean?”


Cherry stared at Tuette for a moment and then at the vines against the black wall. “I don’t know,” she said finally, sounding almost featherlike somehow. “Fatha said I shouldn’t climb them.”


“Terry,” Tuette called, not taking her eyes off Cherry. “How can Cherry help us?” Terry didn’t know. “Can she help us fly? Can she make us invisible or immaterial? Can she destroy the wall? Can she grow new vines quickly?”


“No. No! No! Yes!” Terry himself gasped after that revelation.


Tuette wheeled around, looking Terry in the face. “How?” she all but screeched.


Instead of Terry spouting off another “I don’t know”, he said one set of words: “Key Phrase.”


That apparently didn’t mean anything to Tuette because she looked even more confused. She turned back to Cherry. “Do you know what he means? Do you know what a Key Phrase is?”


Cherry shrugged her shoulders, looking more animated than she had before. Sylvester actually caught on before Tuette did, thinking back to Ed and what he had been told of that Burtle fellow. “Tuette, maybe she has a Key Phrase, or says one, to, like Terry suggested, make vines grow. If they grew, we could climb over the wall. Like Terry said.” He only thought to reinforce that Terry came up with the notion first because he was the one that Tuette had been practically mistreating all of a sudden.


And it made Sylvester feel a little tingly. He felt bad for Terry though, knowing he shouldn’t have to go through such a thing, especially if he was coming out Artificial possession.


Tuette looked at Cherry a moment more, seemed annoyed that Sylvester had thought to suggest such a thing, and asked Terry. Terry said yes. When Tuette asked the Guard what the Key Phrase was, surprise rippled through the group again, only on some deeper level than before.


“‘This seed with grow when, on it, I blow’.”


Tuette screwed her face, which was red in spots, but not all over. Probably the sunburns that she feared so much. But it was Cherry’s expression that surprised Sylvester. In short, she looked utterly shocked at the words Terry spoke. Tuette gave Terry a twig and told him to break it. Terry was confused, which was only a slight continuation of his current state, but he absently broke the twig. Looking back at Cherry, Tuette almost looked like she was going to smack the young woman. “Is this true, Cherry Tee? Is that the Key Phrase?”


Cherry was looking at Terry when she said, “I… I did not know what it meant. Or what it was.” Disconnectedly, Cherry explained as quickly as possible – which was moderately slow by most people’s standards – that she had been dreaming for the past few years about the very words that Terry had uttered. “They do not come often. But when they do,” she huffed once, her eyes finding focus but not on any person. “They are memorable.”


“So you’ve heard it before? And it helps you grow bin’vines? Or something?”


Cherry shook her head once but quickly. “I was not aware of what the Phrase did. When I told my mother about it, she told me to,” Cherry then coughed as if the words weren’t supposed to be uttered. But the young Tee continued. “She said I should not tell anyone. That it was an assured sign of Magik. That even though I could not help it, the others in Cordia would… condemn me. And maybe harm me.”


Sylvester felt appalled. Up until that point, he had understood that the Magik people of this one-time-town had separated themselves from the people who didn’t wholly embrace Magik. But for one group to harm another seems quite outlandish! He instantly wondered if the Cordians had reason to be so fearful as such a harmful response was probably rooted in self-preservation. “Why would your mother say that?” asked Sylvester, stepping to join the small group once again.


“Because,” began Porlyen, who had adopted a look of near-disgust. “It’s the Mages who did this. All of this!” He gestured to their surroundings and Sylvester took them in once more. Pools of swamp water dotted the town. Frogs and toads, as well as snakes and a few fish, moved atop the soggy surface of Cordia. There were large indentions as well, spots where frog-homes had originally been built or where they had landed through the night. In short, it was a disaster. “Every year, in the month of Delch, just before the moon is full, they throw eggs over the wall. The eggs bring our structures to Life. In the first year, four people died. Last year, one more person died. This year, we took no chances. We had to vacate our town, our homes, because we feared for our lives


“Magiks are not welcome in this town. And I understand that you are the king of everything,” – Hardly everything – “but we don’t take anymore risks than we have to. Mages aren’t welcome here. You and your friends need to leave. Now.” He looked quickly at Cherry Tee. “And take her with you.”


“What?” Sylvester couldn’t help but sound incredulous, but Porlyen had just made an outrageous suggestion. “Take her with us? This is her home, you silly fool. You were just expressing to us all that you care so much about your homes and your wellbeing and, what, you’re ordering us to take her?”


“Yes,” he said quietly, not making eye contact. “Yes, I am.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge between his eyes. “If your Guard or whatever he really is,” he said with a tone of disgust. “If he’s right, then she can’t stay here. We won’t have her. If we had known before,” he finally made eye contact with the king, “then we would’ve exiled her. Or drowned her in the swamps.”


That sent a cold chill up Sylvester’s spine and he instantly felt like punching Porlyen square in the jaw. Such a leader as he puts this entire government to shame.


What made it worse was that he believed himself to be right! Does this qualify as a situation of malice? Is Porlyen no better than Jirra or even Count Roost? Surely, if the people of Cordia did fear for their lives because of complications that arose through Magik doers, then precautionary measures might be necessary. But murder? Exile was surely an option, but the mayor had mentioned drowning the innocent Cherry Tee.


Sylvester’s heart went out to Cherry, though he knew he didn’t really want it too. It was but a simple stroke of empathy. He felt like sheltering Cherry but he knew that that was why she probably behaved the way she did. That or she really did have a head energy blockage, like Ed. That old man had the odd gift. Maybe Cherry has one too.


Approaching Cherry, he could see that she was shaken a little more by the revelation that Porlyen, someone she might’ve otherwise trusted, would so readily dismiss her in one form or another. “Cherry, you said you dream about this… Key Phrase?” She nodded once but didn’t look at Sylvester. She looked at the black wall which only lightened as the sun climbed higher in the sky. “And that means you know the Phrase? By memory?” She nodded once more.


Sylvester started guiding her towards the wall, where the bin’vines grew, quietly hoping this wasn’t a waste of time. He looked the vines over, noting how incredibly thick they were, almost like skinny trees even. Tuette had said that they clung to smooth surfaces and were difficult to bring down, causing problems even with older structures that could easily be overtaken by the plant if not tended properly. Plucking at one of the leaves, he saw a small sprig of beadlike objects jutting from the vine itself. He decided that this was probably the seed of the vines and picked a few off.


Handing them to Cherry, she looked at them in the palm of her hand. “Well,” Sylvester said. “You know the Phrase. I think it says what you should do.”


Cherry only nodded. She muttered something while her face turned a little red, as if she were embarrassed. She then clutched the seeds into her palm end blew into it. But she didn’t drop them. Instead, she looked into Sylvester’s face, her eyes glassy. “I will drop these. And all I have known will end.”


Sylvester bit his lip and realized what he had asked of this tragic young woman. A lump formed in his throat. I didn’t ask. I demanded. But life with the Cordians was over, one way or the other. To Cherry, he smiled as best he could and said, “It seemed like it was going to end anyway. At least this way, you get to say it was for something great.” And he truly believed that. Because if she was to come with them, then she would be assisting them in helping save Decennia.


Nodding once, Cherry opened her palm and Sylvester caught his breath as the seeds seemingly raced to the watery ground below. Everyone else said nothing, not even Tuette, which surprised the king. Even the frogs and toads had stopped splashing, it seemed.


It was a but an instant later when the spot where the seeds had deposited themselves near the base of the black wall began to visibly bubble up, as if some underground creature was digging just beneath the surface. In the next instant, brown bin’vines, thicker and broader than the others, moved with a blur against the surface of the wall. Everyone backed up, except Cherry, who started at a spot on the wall level with her line of sight. All other eyes were on the black barrier’s peak, seeing if the bin’vines would reach that high.


Sylvester had no doubt they would and he was right, and then some. Whether they reached past the lip of the wall, he couldn’t tell, but the base of the vines widened evermore, taking over even the original bin’vines that had provided the seeds.


Sylvester was utterly amazed. He had witnessed some feats brought on by Magik but this seemed like something more. Are some types of Magik more powerful than others? Even Ed’s Healing stuff took hours to work. Cherry had instantly sprouted a full-fledged vine and provided him and Tuette and the Guards a near-perfect route out of Cordia.


Porlyen looked utterly shocked, like he had been spit on.


Tuette stepped forward to grab the vines. With a grunt and a tug, she said, “It’s real.”


“Did you expect something else?” asked Sylvester, because he honestly hadn’t.


At a loss for words, Tuette just stared up again and shook her head. She almost looked like Cherry. Sylvester then looked at Dermy, who was also staring up at the wall but grinning. His arm was still held close to his chest. How is he to climb?


“Tuette, we should put that Healing stuff on Dermy’s arm. To heal him.”


Tuette frowned, drawn from the spectacle that everyone else was just staring at. “I’m not sure it’ll work. His…” She looked around.


Dermy stepped forward. “I be needin’ a momen’. By meself, oh.”


Porlyen looked down at Dermy, acting like this was the first time he had seen him. “You can you use the swamp for you personal facilities, little man.”


Dermy only smiled wider. “Nah, misty. I be needin’ a momen’ o’ peace.”


“For what?”


Sylvester had a notion what Dermy had to do but didn’t dare mention it. He said instead “We need to put that Healing stuff on him. Like I was talking about. Not only on his arm but in… other regions.”


Seeing Porlyen squirm made Sylvester smile this time. He nodded and pointed to the nearest normal structure, which was a frog-shaped shop. “Tuette, can you watch Cherry while I apply the stuff to Dermy’s areas.” She looked utterly confused but stepped to Cherry’s side, speaking in low tones to her.


Terry, who had recovered the moment the bin’vines had sprouted mightily, also stepped forward, judging that Cherry possibly needed extra protection from the Cordians. Vest made to follow the king. “No, Vest. I can handle it. I’ll be fine.”


“Sir—“


Gilly Tee then broke through the crowd, first looking up at the vines and then at her daughter. Sylvester desperately wished to stay and hear the conversation that might be had but he needed to stay with Dermy to keep his disguise a secret. “Vest, help watch after Cherry. And Gilly too, if she needs it.” Sylvester doubted she would though. Gilly seemed like a self-determined woman, but not anything like what Sylvester might consider a mother.


He then sadly realized that he wouldn’t truly know. However much he knew about King Gould, he knew even less about his own mother.


So who am I to judge maternity?





*          ~          *          ~          *


Following after Dermy, he entered to see that Dermy was alone and already out of his disguise, his right arm hanging limply as before. “Dermy, did you see that?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.


The specialist only nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it, sir.”


Sylvester looked at the short man, feeling confused. “Never? As much Magik as you’ve witnessed, you’ve never seen a display like that?” Dermy shook his head. Sylvester had assumed that him or Tuette had witnessed such an event before. That merely speaks of how unique it truly is.


And how unique Cherry Tee truly might be.


Dermy was beginning to resettle his limp wrist into a groove on the back of a chair, which he braced with one foot on the chair’s seat. “Wait, Dermy. Just a second.” Sylvester had assumed that Dermy had needed a moment alone to discard his disguise and renew it as a reapplication would probably not carry over the broken bone. He had also assumed that Dermy’s other arm would actually be broken too, but that wasn’t the case. It was only the disguise: it had acted as a kind of shield, even. “We need to take a little longer. I’m supposed to have applied that Healing stuff on parts unmentioned.”


Dermy shrugged. “These Cordians don’t know anything about Magik. And they just witnessed something that would normally be classified as impossible. I don’t think they’ll worry that I’m fixed up in a matter of seconds.”


“But…” He faltered but he knew he had to ask. “But what was wrong with Terry? How did he know that Cherry even had had a specialty about herself?”


Dermy froze.


Sylvester didn’t miss it and he immediately followed up. “What? What is it?”


Dermy only shook his head. “I… don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. King, sir.” It was utterly unconvincing, and the king now knew that something was being hidden from him. Is it about Terry? Do one of the Gousheralls have an affinity for using Magik? Or perhaps he had put the power into Cherry? Sylvester’s mind was suddenly racing at the possibilities. If Terry could tell another person to perform some powerful task, then Sylvester could very quickly be rid of the kingdom-wide Curse of the Thumb! It seems all too easy!


“What is it, Dermy?” He looked into the farmer’s face. “What is it about Terry that, that I’m not supposed to know?”


With his brow furrowed, Dermy said, “What’re talking about?” as his arm slid from the chair’s notch to land deftly against his side. “There’s nothing secretive, or special, about Terry.”


Is he telling the truth, this man who refuses to be without a disguise? Maybe. He was baring his honest side. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t omitting some sort of truth.


What Terry was doing, it seemed like all he could do was report the truth. He had said he wanted to say one thing or another but a different answer popped out. Perhaps Terry had been put under a Spell? Or Charmed somehow? He asked Dermy.


“Charmed?” Dermy might’ve let out a small chuckle but Sylvester didn’t catch it; his mind was rolling with many more ideas concerning the placement of power onto others. “Sir, Charms can’t be tied to whole humans. A Spell, maybe. But no Charm.” Sylvester made to ask another question and Dermy cut him off. “And, no, he couldn’t have been under a Spell, though I will acquiesce that he was acting peculiar.”


Peculiar? He had been sobbing uncontrollably and had to be quieted by his superior! “Of course he was acting peculiar! And if you say that he wasn’t under a Spell and Charms are out…”


“Now, they’re not out, because Charms can affect people if they wear one.”


Sylvester felt himself huff. Finally, after a moment of boring into the side of Dermy’s face, he said, “Was it a Charm? Was a Charmed item on Terry’s person that made him say those things? Made him act that way?”


Dermy didn’t answer, just stared at the wall below, to the right, and behind Sylvester. In a handful of seconds, he finally said, “No. He wasn’t under the affect of any Charm.”


“Then, if it’s not a Spell or a Charm, I’d only assume that he was taken by yet another Artificial. A better one. One that could act more human than the others I saw. That, or a Curse.”


Dermy lost his focus for a moment and that was all that Sylvester, with his powerful observations, needed to know to deduce that he had finally spouted an answer that made sense. And of course it makes sense, because what else would? “So, he was under a Curse, was he?” Dermy didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. “Count Roost cast a more direct Curse onto one of my own Guardsmen. A Curse… that makes him tell no lies, then?” Sylvester frowned. “What good is that? Unless he knew that, without discovering Cherry’s ability, we would be delayed too much to actually encounter him.” Yes, that actually makes sense. Dermy didn’t dispute it so it had to be true.


But it seemed like Sylvester was forgetting something about the nature of Curses. What was it that Dothel or Trisden had said? He wished he knew. No matter! He had someone who could only tell the truth, as far as he knew. If that were true, though, how did he know the exact wording of Cherry’s Phrase? Maybe it was a general truth and not one that Terry himself had necessarily known but had been able to speak because he had been directly asked. And Cherry had known it anyway, she just hadn’t known what to do with it. It was he, Sylvester, who had taken the initiative to find out exactly what to do.


That made him feel pretty good.


Suddenly, Cordia wasn’t feeling so dreary. “Dermy, I think it’s time we reappeared with you wholly healed.” Dermy only nodded but he looked like he wanted to say something. “What is it, Dermy?”


Dermy took a breath and said, “About Terry. And his Curse…”


“Oh, yes!” said Sylvester, remembering what it was he probably had forgotten about Curses. “He has a Reverse to perform, then!” Sylvester then frowned deeply. “I wonder what it could be? How did that Speebie woman find out the Reverse that I was supposed to perform?”


“Sir, I don’t know. But that’s not what I was going to say.” Dermy took a couple deep breaths before he finally said, “It wasn’t Count Roost that Cursed Terry. First of all, he didn’t have a hair or anything from Terry for casting a Curse.”


Oh, that’s true. But… “But, that fly, it could’ve taken one. That had been on Beverane. Or it took one recently, while we weren’t paying attention.”


Dermy only shook his head. “While that’s possible, I know that’s not what happened.” He took another deep breath and it seemed like one too many for a man of his size. “Terry was placed under the Curse of Truth, yes. But not by Roost. By… Tuette.”


The farmer froze in place, staring directly into Sylvester’s eyes. The king didn’t readily understand though. Slowly, ever so slowly, it dawned on him. The hair. She got it from Terry. Just a few minutes ago. And the Reverse… was that why he had broken the small stick? Can such a simple task be assigned as a Reverse for a life-altering Curse?


If only I could do a Reverse so simple.


So Tuette put a Curse on Terry. With it, we discovered a means of getting out of Cordia more quickly than we otherwise could’ve hoped for. Was that such a big deal? And it was Reversed rather…


Sylvester finally stopped his head energies, his heart, even his breathing. Something he had already been told about Curses but had either forgotten or didn’t really think about it – though what’s the difference? The only reason that Count Roost could Curse, as Sylvester had been told by Dothel op Prissen, was because he was similarly Cursed. That was the only way Curses could be spread around, much like the instance with the night dragon and Herb Tee.


That meant Tuette was Cursed too.


Sylvester suddenly felt a little sick and a little nervous and a little betrayed.


Tuette’s Cursed! She could Curse me, or Terry, as she just had! And she’d been traveling with us for a handful of days!


Feeling a little dizzy, Sylvester sat down in the chair that Dermy was going to use. Dermy stepped around. “You alright, King, sir?”


He didn’t look up at Dermy but did look through the squat man’s torso. But why? Why not look at Dermy? I don’t really want to look at anyone… but Dermy… had known! As that sunk in as well, Sylvester looked up and he felt like tackling the man and getting a better sense of what was going on. He couldn’t though. Dermy was sacrificing his own arm for the king’s cause, and had been for years now.


“What’s her Curse?” was the only thing Sylvester could think to ask, but he immediately wished to know something else. “How long has she had it?”


Dermy squatted down on his haunches, looking up into Sylvester’s face. He thought the shorter man might stumble without use of one of his arms but he remained steady. “She’s been Cursed for about four years now. And it’s really no big deal.”


“No big deal?” he suddenly said, feeling his neck reel back slightly. “How’s that? She could’ve done anything to any of us, just like that crazy count is trying to do!”


“But she’s not. She doesn’t. The thing with Terry, well, I’m not sure why she did it but it’s proved very beneficial for our cause, hasn’t it?” Sylvester grumbled something noncommittal. “And she had him perform a Reverse straight away.”


“What about Cherry?”


Dermy frowned in confusion. “What about her, King, sir?”


Sylvester sighed once, then again. “If… if Tuette hadn’t… done that, then Cherry would get to stay here, among her people.” He chewed his lip for a small bit, thinking about how Cherry must’ve always felt like an outsider but was now literally being turned into one. “Now she has to leave, because they’re all prejudiced or something.”


Dermy looked into Sylvester’s face, his eyes. “And how does that make you feel, sir?” The way he asked it, Sylvester was reminded of Penson and he suddenly and sorely ached to be back home, away from Cordia and in his bed and maybe, just maybe, the Curse of the Thumb wouldn’t even come about.


He had been asked a viable question though and the more Sylvester thought about it, the more he became… enraged. He said as much too but with a little too much conviction. “I mean, it’s not Cherry’s fault that she has an energy blockage or whatever it’s called. She can’t help it! But these people, they talk of exiling her… or even drowning her?” He shook his head, feeling something like tears beginning to form. “No. No, that’s not right, Dermy. It isn’t?”


In a very quiet voice, Dermy said, “Then how do you think Tuette feels?”


Like a punch to the chest, Sylvester understood what he was saying and the tears he thought he might’ve felt finally dropped to moisten his cheeks and roughly clean his beard.


It was several moments more before Sylvester felt his face was dry enough when he said to Dermy, “I… I understand.” He nodded. “I do. Now.” He rubbed Dermy’s left shoulder. “Thank you,” he finally said. With a nasal-clearing sniff, he stood up and helped Dermy stand up as well. “Well, we’ve been in here long enough. I think it’s time we get out of here and then out of Cordia.”


Dermy looked into Sylvester’s eyes. “Are you going to confront Tuette about her Curse?”


Chewing his lip again and rubbing his chin, Sylvester thought it over. She obviously hadn’t told the rest of them for a good reason. And she was ultimately helping them. In time, she’ll reveal her Curse. Shaking his head, he said, “I won’t say anything.”


Dermy smiled and gave Sylvester a small vile. “It’s Truvis Pote. It’s something I can also use to break my disguise. It might come in handy for you, if you need me to be… understandable.” Sylvester almost smiled as Dermy settled his wrist into the back of the chair and pushed forward with Sylvester holding the seat.


“Tha’kin’ ya, Kinasir!” At that, Sylvester could only smile, hopeful that the day would soon come that Dermy didn’t need his disguise. As it was, the arm that had been broken no longer was, meaning it was time for them to go.





*          ~          *          ~          *





Back outside, Sylvester joined the group. Several Cordians had left but, unfortunately, Porlyen wasn’t one of them. Should I attempt to take him into custody for such harsh ideas towards an innocent? He wasn’t sure and it seemed more like a case that had to be dealt with locally.


He couldn’t help but think back to Jirra, though, and how she had wanted to bring grave harm to a woman like Reefetta, who was already broken in so many ways. This quest is exposing me to so many things. The problem was that he didn’t like how uneasy it all made him feel. Once he took back full control of Mount Reign and then the eight regions, he knew that local disputes would eventually trickle up to the mountain. The thing was that potential victims like Cherry… and Tuette, too… might fall under someone else’s brand of justice before Sylvester himself could execute a proper form of justice.


But that made him think further again. What form of justice is proper in any instance? Surely, someone placing a Curse on someone else could be life-threatening, indeed, but should the caster be treated as a criminal or another victim? They’re Cursed as well, meaning they’ve already been wronged and are merely perpetrating the actions done unto them. It made his mind flex unduly but he knew that he would eventually have to wrap himself up in these unpleasant ideals and situations.


Sylvester supposed then that the nature of the Curse would dictate the severity of the punishment. But if I’m to do that in the future, should I start with something as drastic as murdering one count? My title suggests I work within the limits of government but that truly does mean much yet. Because people like Porlyen and Jirra are in the fold.


These thoughts battered at his head in the few seconds it took to rejoin the others and reestablish his mild dislike of Porlyen. And in thinking them, he felt like talking to Penson again but knew that the groomer was most likely without the Comgem. In some ways, Penson was like a great teacher and mental mediator for Sylvester, where his professors at Majramdic had…


All thoughts stopped as his mind reeled one again at yet another realization:


If Tuette was Cursed by her former teacher, and Count Roost has killed that same teacher, how is she still Cursed? The only reason they were going after the count was because killing him was going to be the only way they could save Decennia from chaos. Was that a lie? A lie to hide her Curse? Maybe it had been a different teacher? Sylvester recalled answering to several in his short time at the academy. But he couldn’t ask Tuette. That would betray that he knew and that Dermy had grudgingly betrayed his longtime friend. But I can ask Dermy. And he knew he would, first chance he got.


Absently, he realized that Dermy had failed to answer about which Curse Tuette was under, though it obviously had something to do with the sun. Even though sunburns could make someone miserable, he doubted that was her irritation. Yes, he still had more questions for his agricultural specialist.


Gilly Tee was walking away from the group as Sylvester and Dermy joined them. The Guards were looking amazedly at Dermy’s arm, Terry in particular. “Slip, you got healed mighty quick, Dermy! And without any dirt to mix the Pote with, too!”


Tuette stepped up, realizing what they had done. She might also have been annoyed that she hadn’t suggested it first. “Uh, he mostly likely just had a bone-bruise. The Pote works more quickly for those. And they obviously used dirt from the floor, inside.” Looking back as Tuette pointed to the structure they had left, Sylvester realized that the floor had been wooden planks. But the others, like the ones that they had invaded through the night, those had dirt floors. The two Guards had no way of knowing that the frog-shaped ones were any different so it was easily believed.


Terry said, “Well, piss, I wish mine had just been an easy bruise.” He absently rubbed his own arm that had broken – Does it still hurt? – and walked away, keeping an eye on the other Cordians.


“Right, so we can go now. And Cherry…” he started and remembered that whatever she and Gilly had talked about, it hadn’t upset Gilly in the least. She had been walking away with almost no emotion whatsoever. “Cherry, you comin’ with us?”


Cherry said nothing as she started at the point where her mother rounded a distant corner. Tuette interjected. “Cherry will be coming with us. It’s very clear,” she started while sending a scowl at Porlyen, revealing her true feelings about him as well, “that she’s not welcome her.”


Of course she thinks that way. She’s practically in the same arena as Cherry. Then, yet another stray thought entered the king’s head. “Who Cursed Count Roost?” he asked of no one specifically. He looked first to Terry but whatever traumatic event he had been going through earlier while under Tuette’s Curse of Truth had lapsed and he was in Guard-mode. Anyway, he couldn’t answer a question he didn’t know. At least, not one that wasn’t known by someone close, if that’s how the Curse of Truth worked.


Tuette shrugged her shoulders, looked at the king then, and said, “Why?”


Without knowing it would happen, an idea quickly formed and Sylvester felt very excited to have it. “Because maybe, if we find out, we can get him to perform his own Reverse. And then… would all his Curses stop?”


Tuette finally nodded after a moment. “Yes, that would happen. Assuming he isn’t Precon-Cursed.”


“What’s that?” asked the king, as the term hadn’t been used.


“Precon-Cursed. Preconception-Curse. The Curse that he’s under could’ve been cast before he was even conceived.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “If that’s the case, they can’t ever be Reversed. Even if the person who cast it dies well before the victim does.”


Victim. She uses that term because it applies to her too.


“So, do we just assume that’s the case?”


She shrugged again. Cherry was still staring after her absent mother. “We pretty much have to. It’s no problem to find someone that’s cast a Curse against someone else, unless they Block it. And that’s not hard to do. Odds are that we’ll have much better luck stopping Roost’s Curse immediately, which is what needs to be done.”


Sylvester instantly wondered what Tuette’s Reverse entailed. Dermy might know.


“I guess you’re right,” he said absently. Looking at Cherry, he said, “What’s wrong with her?”


Tuette huffed once, looking slightly menacing but Sylvester was pretty sure it wasn’t aimed at him. “Her mother. She heard, and saw, what Cherry can do. And she ordered her to come with us.” She looked at Cherry again and Sylvester realized they had both been talking like she wasn’t right there in front of them. Well, she does make it easy enough for that to happen. “Gill said that either way, she couldn’t come home. That she’d let Porlyen decide what to do with Cherry.”


Sylvester was instantly curious. What mother would willingly enforce her child to leave? A bad mother. The king instantly wondered if, with Cherry’s mental defections, Herb had been a primary caretaker of some kind while Gilly maintained the familial income. Judging by Gill’s raw and leathered hands, he deduced that that was the case. It only made him realize his earlier thoughts once again: that he wouldn’t know the difference between a good or bad mother because he didn’t have anyone to compare the sentiments with.


“Well, that’s fine with me, Tuette.” He stood in front of Cherry, who gasped slightly at having her line of sight blocked. “Cherry, you’ll be coming with us. We are on a fairly serious quest, for certain, and our lives have already been placed into dangerous situations, but it seems like you’ll be safer with us anyway. Okay?”


Cherry only nodded. What else could she do? Deciding to leave Cordia behind immediately, they approached the massive bin’vines that their newest traveling companion had been responsible for and climbed them without preamble.





*          ~          *          ~          *





The climb had initially been easy. About halfway up the wall though, Sylvester felt like his arms were going to break off. He imagined that everyone else felt the same way. But, with a strong will to not only make it to the top but also not to plummet to his death, Sylvester and everyone else reached the top. He had voiced a concern that the top might not be wide enough for them to sit on and rest while their muscles quietly healed. Dermy, in his broken-speech way, said it had to be fairly wide in order to be so tall. Otherwise, it might’ve collapsed.


When they reached the top, surprise greeted every single one of them.


It was the top, truly, but it was actually an edge. The black wall was a sheer cliff with Ac right there for all to see. Somehow, it had been elevated, ground and all, whereas Cordia had remained stationary far below. Relief flooded through Sylvester, starting with his aching arms.


Surprisingly, no one had come to see about the new bin’vine growth that had suddenly appeared. Sylvester immediately wanted to ask how such an elevation of land was possible but could only chalk it up to being an obscure or complex form of Magik that he might or might not understand.


Tuette was just as surprised as Sylvester. “These Mages have truly done something… different!” she said while licking her lips.


“Regardless of what they’ve done,” interjected Vest in his all-business tone, “there’s the next Stone in the Ring. The gods only know where it will actually take us. Considering it might not take us anywhere!”


“Nah,” started Dermy. “’hat bein’ on’y th’ otha ‘tone, oh. This’n will be workin’ jus’ fine, I ‘spect.” Sylvester thought he sounded a little doubtful but remembered that Ed told them all that the Battery Magik applied to the Ring and depended solely on the individual Stones, not the Ring as a whole.


Suddenly, Sylvester was pulled forward by a force on his shoulder to land on the ground. He was held there and, with his head turned to one side, he saw that everyone else was in a similar situation. Terry looked frantic yet again and the only thing that Sylvester could think was that he or one of the others had finally been possessed by another Artificial and it was doing this to them all. Looking on his other side, he saw that Cherry—


He gasped. She wasn’t affected. She was standing there, staring forward, focusing intently on something Sylvester couldn’t see. Is she doing this? The thought raced through his mind at break-neck speed and he realized that if she was, she hadn’t needed their help after all in getting out of Cordia; if she had been attacked, all she had to do was force her assaulters to the ground.


Sylvester suddenly felt foolish for feeling sorry for such an assumingly-innocent creature as Cherry Tee. If she could do something like… but no. A length of rope flew at her – or more appropriately floated at her as it couldn’t have angled in the way it did by just a casual toss – and it wrapped itself around her and she too was pulled to the ground.


Chiding himself for only a moment, Sylvester wished desperately to know what was going on. Is this some kind of welcoming committee put together by the Magik citizens of Ac? Whatever it was, he immediately felt that they didn’t hold precedence over his own status. “Ruffians!” he shouted, feeling foolish for opening with that word, but he continued. “Unhand us. Let us be. We are travelers. And I am this kingdom’s leader, King Sylvester!”


“Save your breath,” yelled Tuette. “These ruffians don’t follow any laws.”


“Who are they?” He didn’t really expect her to know but she did have an answer.


“Koso.” She all but spat the word, as if it tasted like human waste in her mouth. But that didn’t truly answer the question. How am I supposed to know what a Koso is? He asked, but she didn’t get the chance to answer.


“We are Koso,” came a solid voice. “But we are not ruffians, dear King.”


With that, the forceful pressure was lifted from Sylvester and he instantly tried to spring up. It didn’t work though because his arms were incredibly sore from the climb. He did manage to lean up and finally stand under his own power. Before him stood a thin man with a tuft of fur beneath his lower lip and a thin moustache above. His hair was black and slicked back. His clothes were simple and he wore fingerless gloves.


In his eyes, Sylvester didn’t see any sort of malice that might be generalized onto someone who would assault the king, but he did recognize something else: purpose.


And power.


He suddenly felt envious of this man, this Koso, and was anxious to learn exactly what Tuette didn’t enjoy about them.


She sprang up, or tried, in the same manner as Sylvester but her arms were also sore, if not more so. Tuette, when she finally found her footing, sprang behind the man – men, Sylvester finally noticed: three of them. “Be careful, Sylvester. Koso are killers.”


Sylvester suddenly did find himself wary and started rounding about them, but he went the other way and tripped over Cherry’s legs. She let out a gentle groan as he fell again, trying to catch himself and instantly regretting the action as it only made his arms hurt more. Why didn’t she get up? Haven’t they released her too?


The Gousheralls finally got up and drew their swords… which were violently shucked from their hands when one of the men made a quick upward-motion with his hands. Vest, who had been clinging two his sword with more force, had stumbled backwards when his sword finally left his hands. His momentum carried him straight to the cliff’s edge.


Sylvester felt his throat close up as he saw Vest and knew there was nothing he could do to save him.


Vest let out a scream when he fell backward over the cliff’s edge and Sylvester instantly felt like burying his face in the grass or his fist in the men Tuette had said were Koso. His scream died right away, no longer heard as he fell so far…


“Sir?” came a question screamed through gasps from the direction that Vest had been. Sylvester turned his head to see…


Vest.


Vest floating.


He was upside down, his face red with blood rushing to it, but he was… he was alive, one foot looking like it was being held by the ankle. Sylvester got up with no additional pain to his arms and saw that another of the Koso was making another raised-fist gesture at Vest. Behind the men stood Tuette, who looked on in amazement. She also looked a little hurt, like a great truth had just been reevaluated. Looking back at Vest, Sylvester saw him move towards the cliff’s edge, imagining what the people below must be thinking about such a spectacle. If they ever think to look up, that is.


In another moment, he was settled gently on the grassy surface of the cliff. Terry rushed to his side to inquire about the older man’s health and condition. Looking warily back at the Koso, Sylvester said without question, “You did that.” The men looked solemn but nodded as one. Sylvester’s mind was spun on its side. How? He asked.


Tuette answered. “They can control things, move them, with their heads and hands.” That much was evident, but if that was all he was going to get out of her, he decided he might just have to accept that that’s what a Koso does.


“It’s not that simple, madam,” said the first man. “Though I gather that you are holding your hostilities because of the unfortunate histories that surround my people.”


Your people? He looked normal enough. What makes him exclusive to one group of people? What makes this one man like the other Kosos? Again, he asked.


“We are Koso, both and singular and plural. Since birth, our people…”


“His people,” bit out Tuette with a grating tone, “train their young, since birth, to move things, touch things, steal things, maim…”


“Madam, we do not appreciate your slanderous words,” said the second Koso Sylvester had seen. This man had a deep, solid voice like the first man, but his hair was thinner, shorter, and red. His took a breath before continuing. “You speak not of my kind but of roguish deserters who had mayhem in mind. Who abused the abilities bestowed upon them. Sadly, they have spread a poor message that tends to precede genuine Koso.”


“Why should I believe you?” she spat, tensing her body as if she might leap for one of the swords the second man had yanked from the Guards.


“We cannot force you to believe…”


“But you can force me to the ground, like you did a very short time ago, right?”


That’s a good point. They had ascended in a rather unassuming manner. But the lead Koso said, “We apologize and will not do so again. But we saw the bin’vins and immediately thought that someone of Cordia was attempting a quick raze on Ac here.”


“This is true,” said the third man, who appeared younger and had a lighter voice. His facial features also appeared more delicate than the two men. “Had we known your identities or intentions, we would not have molested you.” He glanced down at Cherry then and Sylvester noticed that he still held his small hand out, fingers splayed. Is he continuing to hold the ropes around her? “But your friend here, there is something… misaligned with her.”


Tuette stepped forward. “She just lost her father and her mother gave her up because her friends and neighbors said they might kill her if she didn’t come with us. Because she’s got an energy blockage.”


The third man frowned. “A blockage? Against Magik?”


Tuette then frowned and Sylvester felt a sudden shift from overall suspicion to guarded confusion. Vest, Terry, and Sylvester himself were overtly confused and nothing more. Tuette finally said, “What do you mean?”


“When I tried grabbing at her, as I grabbed at your king, she resisted, somehow. Like I had misjudged my aim.”


“Soka never misses,” added the second man.


“He speaks true,” said Soka. “I had to improvise with my rope.”


Sylvester looked down at Cherry again. “Then why are you continuing to hold her?” He remembered thinking their incident had been her doing. Now he felt foolish and rather protective again. “Let her up.”


Soka faltered. “But, King, sir, she might be dangerous. I still can’t feel her.”


Crouching down, Sylvester gently prodded her back with his palms. “Well, Soka, I feel her and that’s good enough for me. Now let her up,” he finally growled. Soka, with approval from the first man, did as he was told. The ropes slackened and he helped Cherry to her feet. “Now, what do you mean that you couldn’t feel her?”


The first man stepped forward. “Did you say she had a blockage? Of head energies?”


“That’s just what Tuette said. I don’t know what that’s about. I do know that I saw her make that huge bin’vine grow and that’s what brought us up here in the first place.” He looked at Cherry, suddenly wondering if taking pity on her situation had been ideal. “I mean, I saw it with my own eyes.”


“We do not doubt that, do we, Koll?” The first man nodded at the second man’s question. “We only wonder about her nature.”


Baffled and becoming a little sore in more than just his arms, Sylvester nearly screamed at Koll. “What are you talking about? What are you implying?”


Without warning, Koll made a pushing gesture towards Cherry. Sylvester started to dive for her with the intent at trying to save her from the Koso’s gesture, and he did feel a gentle tug on his shoulder, as if he had caught part of the push as well… but Cherry didn’t budge. Koll didn’t do much of anything, just stared at Cherry with his jaw clenched. “I just tried pushing your lady friend off the cliff, and nothing. I shall try…” He then made a plucking gesture that looked like it was aimed at the top of Cherry’s head. “Nothing. Not even the hairs on her head are affected.”


“What does that mean?” asked Sylvester.


Tuette, her guard finally down as her interest was piqued, said, “It means that Cherry might be invulnerable to Magik. Or at least actions performed through Magik.”


“Invulnerable? She can’t be harmed?”


“By Magik, maybe not,” said Koll with a frown. “With a sword, I would say that she most likely would fall by the way of death. But other than that, I cannot see us affecting her, unless with outside assistance.”


“Like this rope,” Sylvester said while bending over to retrieve it.


Soka made a quick gesture and it flew from the king’s hands into his, neatly wound up and ready to be attached to a loop on Soka’s shoulder. Sylvester then looked at Cherry Tee with slight awe. Cherry, in contrast, looked lost and a little afraid. “What about Curses?” asked Sylvester, first looking to Dermy and then to Tuette? Dermy’s eyes flashed briefly but Tuette only shrugged.


“Well, they’re centered on Magik so, yeah, she probably can’t be Cursed either. Or possessed by an Artificial.” He almost asked her to demonstrate but realized that would betray the fact that he knew, for certain, that Tuette was Cursed.


The Koso, as one, stepped away from the group then. “Again,” started Koll, “we apologize for the misunderstanding. But welcome to Ac.” They then left, going around the large Stone nearby. The structures of Ac, Sylvester finally noticed, were mostly similar to those of Cordia, except it seemed like there were fewer frog-shaped ones.


Calling after them, like it mattered, Sylvester said, “No, we cannot stay for long. We just need to use the…” A pained thought arose inside the king. “Um, if Cherry can’t be affected by Magik, can she use it?”


Dermy’s eyes widened, as if he understood the implications, but Tuette only asked, “What do you mean? Like, can she cast a Spell or Charm something?”


“Or… can she travel through the Ring of Ten Minus Two?”


That brought them all to a stand-still. If Cherry couldn’t come with them, she would have to stay in Ac. They, being mostly made up of Magik-bearing people, might enjoy having her due to her peculiar status. But, then again, they might put her through some unkindly experiences just to see the limits of her apparent blockage against Magik. What a trade-off: to appear as if a dullard just so you can’t be touched by Magik. He shook his head, putting a small amount of determination in his mind to find out exactly what caused the odd energy blockage and how it might be avoided. The answer, he realized dreadfully, would most likely be divulged through Magik means and if Cherry couldn’t be analyzed, they might not be able to help her.


At least if we fail, she won’t be Cursed like the rest of us.


After some brief discussion regarding Cherry’s fate, all the while trying to ask Cherry what she wanted to do, they decided to ask the perryta of Ac. Cherry herself simply repeated how she didn’t want to remain in Ac. It was explained by both Sylvester and Tuette that it might have to be a temporary situation.





*          ~          *          ~          *





In a short while, with the sun high overhead and fatigue wearing at their backs, the six found their way to Ac’s center. Along the way, they could see that the town was bustling with activity but Sylvester didn’t let sit the fact that someone in Ac made it an annual event when it came to terrorizing the citizens of Cordia. And be they with Magik on their side or without, Sylvester knew that he had to attempt some judicial settlement to make sure that Cordia didn’t suffer any further.


Before they thought to enter what looked like an important building which was titled as Ac’s Exportation Center, a tall, thin man opened the main door and, upon seeing the six, actually flinched when his eyes landed on Cherry. Sylvester, overlooking it for a moment, introduced himself and the group and, in as few words as possible, explained the situation they were in and how they desperately needed to get to the Seagulf Islands.


“Yes, yes, uh, come in,” said the tall man, who actually had to stoop to get through the doorway himself. “I am Perryta Fastaire, of Ac. I, uh…” He couldn’t take his eyes off Cherry. Either he already suspects that something is amiss or he’s taken by her beauty. Sylvester had to admit that there was something marginally attractive about her lengthy brown hair and hazel eyes but nothing that would make him gawk. After settling them into a room with chairs that lined the wall, he asked Sylvester and Tuette about conversing in private. Vest, quick to remain dutiful, insisted he joined them. Sylvester found it both touching and queer since Vest was obviously devoted to the job but Dermy still refused to trust him.


They were in a small anteroom and seated at a round table that wobbled. Perryta Fastaire looked slightly stressed. How odd he and Fy’tay have similar names but different localizations. Fastaire began speaking bluntly.


“Your companion, from Cordia, she is something else.”


Sylvester exchanged glances with Tuette. “Yes, I said that, before you let us in. If she can’t accompany us then we were wondering…”


“No,” insisted Fastaire. “No, you can’t understand. So, I’ll show you.” With that, he left the room for a few seconds and returned with a rounded rock. “King, sir, this is a Reseeing Stone. I use them around Ac to keep an eye on, well… We have some freelancers living among us that I’m not too trustworthy about. But that’s another matter. I watched you enter the premises…”


“I think I know what you’re about to show us,” said Tuette. “You didn’t see Cherry in the scenes captured by the Reseeing Stones.”


Fastaire stopped talking and stared. In another moment, he said, “And you are okay with this?”


“The… Koso,” started Tuette, though she couldn’t seem to get past her experience with the three men, which only made it seem like she had suffered a sore experience with one in the past. Sylvester glanced back at Vest and decided that his living and breathing form was proof enough that the Koso were decent enough people. Tuette restarted after taking a breath. “The Koso that apparently defend your eastern cliff—“


“Yes, they make great protectors around many parts of the town. Especially since most people have negative associations with them.”


That made Tuette stare down Ac’s leader. After he broke away from her gaze to absently stare at the table, she continued. “They said that she most likely suffered from a very bizarre energy blockage, in her head. We actually just left company of a man near Mokel who claimed to suffer from a blockage as well, but of a different nature.”


“Ah, yes, Ed.” Fastaire frowned and began to gently pass the Reseeing Stone from one hand to the other. Finally, he said, “Well, I don’t see why they’d think that. Or you, for that matter, as an apprentice.” He hunched forward a little, upsetting the table. “See, we’ve reason to believe that those types of blockages are caused by an odd or disproportionate influx of Magik… or even something else.” Something else? Is there an element at work apart from Magik? This intrigued the king but only briefly as Fastaire continued. “And if Cherry Tee is invisible to Magik, then she couldn’t possibly suffer from that.”


“Put she’s not invisible to it. She made those bin’vines shoot straight to the top of the cliff… which, by the way, is a very, very unorthodox means of segregating yourselves from undesirables.”


“No, see, Miss Tuette, they wanted us to pretty much leave the town, but we have just as much right to be here as them. Don’t you think?”


“Wait a moment,” interrupted Sylvester as he sensed the conversation was going to go off in another direction. “Wait, we’re talking about Cherry. And you think that what she suffers from is not an energy blockage.” He leaned forward but the table didn’t wobble. “Then what is the difference? Why can’t she be seen or affected by Magiks?”


Perryta Fastaire only shook his head, looking down at the table’s surface again. “I don’t know. But I can tell you this. She is the second person that I’ve encountered in the exact same situation.”


The second? That means… what exactly? As far as Sylvester could guess, it really didn’t mean much except that Fastaire and Tuette both moved by the issue that Ed and the Burtle fellow did not share attributes with Cherry after all. And as Sylvester thought about it, it made a little sense. Ed obviously was not invisible to Magik; he had several artifacts in his possession that were probably used on a regular basis. Cherry had the one talent that she reportedly even dreamed about and she still could not be touched by the Magiks that people like Fastaire and Tuette delved their whole lives into.


Of course, looking at what Magik has brought Tuette in the form of being Cursed, it’s any wonder Tuette hasn’t abandoned the religion for something less spiteful. Again, he silently wondered about her Cursed status and why she felt she had to not only lie about it but lie about her own teacher being dead and using that as explanation for why she personally would want to go after Roost. Does she not want to reveal how much she truly cares for Decennia? That seemed like a possibility, albeit a minimal one.


But, regaining focus, Sylvester heard Tuette ask, “Well, who was the first? How long ago?”


In his eyes, Sylvester saw a pain pass through Fastaire. The memories must’ve been supremely shocking, to say the least. Instead, he got up, left the room, and came back with another Reseeing Stone, this one that was marked with characters and painted a dark purple instead of red. “This is evidence of what he did.”


Fastaire rubbed the Reseeing Stone like Sylvester might rub the Comgem and a partially-concave image leaped off the rock to be projected away from the Stone. “See, in this moving picture, you can see the destruction… but that’s about it.” As he spoke, he turned the Stone so that projection was facing Sylvester and Tuette. It displayed a cramped avenue with multicolor buildings on each side. People with rucksacks similar to Tuette’s were running towards the image. Sylvester almost couldn’t get over the incredible device and wondered why such moving pictures weren’t captured on Mount Reign. It’d be very useful in keeping eyes on the Malforcrent!


But his idle thoughts were drawn to focus when a building on the left literally crumbled. The right one did almost immediately afterwards. Then two running women fell to the ground with what might’ve been burnt holes in their torsos. They writhed for a minute before one became still after anther hole appeared on her scalp and the other rolled to her side and her face blackened. She became still as well and Sylvester felt like he was going to be sick.


He had never witnessed another human’s death like this before. He felt like he was right there but knew it was something of the past.


Fastaire wisely halted the projection. Tuette looked… impassive, like Cherry had after seeing her father transform. Has she witnessed such gruesome events before? She didn’t look as queasy as Sylvester felt; that much was for certain.


“That happened approximately two years ago, in the month of Bovoto. You obviously cannot see the man because, like Cherry, his image wasn’t captured. And he didn’t fall to even our most powerful Spells and Potes.” Fastaire shook his head. “He murdered four powerful tas and eleven non-Magikals.”


After a moment, Sylvester finally had enough moisture built up in his mouth to ask, “How?” without sounding strained. He cleared his throat, rubbing his chin. “I mean, well, I saw how, but what was, uh…”


“Lightning,” he answered with his mouth sounding equally as dry. Well, that explains the scorches. “It was reported that he was casting it from his hands. With his eyes closed.”


Tuette gulped audibly. “And this is why you have Koso working for you? Incase he comes back, or others like him come back?”


Fastaire simply nodded, though how Tuette had assumed that the murderer had escaped, he didn’t know. “He basically held us under siege. We just happened to have a couple Koso traveling through. One of them managed to snare his rucksack with a length of rope. In it, he carried many personal effects, basic rations, and…” he leaned back and reached into his tunic’s pocket. He pulled it out slowly and opened his fist. Inside were three little spheres, much smaller than Stones. They looked to be about the size of Sylvester’s thumb. They weren’t perfect spheres because they had ridge-patterns, as if they were actually… “We call them ashleaf orbs.”


“Ashleaf? I can see that they are wrapped leaves, but…”


“There are ashes in the center of the orbs, King Sylvester,” he explained. He also almost heard Tuette roll her eyes but couldn’t confirm it. Instead, he looked at one of the small orbs, picked it up, and found it to be surprisingly heavy and firm to the touch. “He had several of these, all of which we now have, minus a few that we’ve attempted to… experiment with.” Unease crept through Sylvester as he remembered his original fears regarding leaving Cherry with these people.


Tuette picked up one as well and also seemed surprised by its physical properties. They looked very soft, in contrast to their hard exteriors. “So, what’s so important about these orbs?”


Fastaire shook his head. “At first, we didn’t know. They didn’t break open for us, but when the man – who called himself Miskel. Miskel Sociana. Well, when Miskel saw that we had the orbs, he became terrified. The Koso who took them, her name was Sohat, she actually grabbed a handful with her Magik and moved them towards Miskel.


“When they came into contact with him, the very first Pote that hit him, a Bone-break Pote, broke his arm. He then shrugged off the rest of our Magiks while fleeing. When we investigated what he had managed to shed of the orbs, we realized then that some sort of ash was inside them. And, for some reason, when they came into contact with him, they broke open.”


Tuette shook her head, still starting at the ashleaf orb. “But that’s insane. Why would he be carrying the very things that make him vulnerable to Magiks?”


Fastaire only shrugged, opening his palms. “How am I to know? Maybe he likes to play it risky. I’ve no clue. I do know that your friend Cherry has displayed a lot of the symptoms, albeit with a very different Magik focus. Miskel blindly cast about lightning bolts, a feat that I’ve never even heard of existing without extensive aid through Charms or whatnot. But Cherry’s ability seems wholly benign, unless it was to be abused.”


“Right,” said Tuette. “There are some plants out there that you just don’t want to be around when they mature.” Sylvester was instantly curious as to what some of those plants were but saved the question. Like I usually do. There never seems to be an apt time for asking questions lately. It was a souring realization. “So… I imagine that you’re sharing this information because…”


“We do not want to accommodate your suspicious friend.” Quite blunt, but at least I can respect the blatant honesty. “She is the second we’ve encountered in almost as many years. Miskel Sociana escaped because of the unexpected turn of events. Cherry Tee, once it’s learned that she’s of a similar condition: she would not be so lucky. I speak not for myself but for the family members of victims brought down by Miskel.” Fastaire almost sounded like he was becoming enraged to the point of arranging Cherry’s execution, much in the same manner as Porlyen had been discussing.


It’s a wholly different situation but it still feels prejudicial. He gestured at each ashleaf orb in their hands and said, “I want you to use one of those on Cherry Tee and you can take as many as you need. Continue on your quest. I understand that it’s of utmost importance.”


Tuette’s eyes squinted slightly. “I’ve a question. About Dormaset.” She leaned forward, the table wobbling gently. “Why isn’t he taking care of this Count Roost business?”


Shrugging his shoulders once again, Fastaire said, “I don’t know.”


“Who’s Dormaset?” Sylvester asked meekly, feeling left out all of a sudden. It was probably something concerning the Magikal community – A hero among Mages, maybe? – but he still wanted to know.


Perryta Fastaire looked from Sylvester to Tuette and then said to Tuette, “The king and the m’p’ta aren’t in contact?”


Tuette looked from Sylvester to Fastaire. “Well, not officially, I guess. I’m assuming he wants the king to take care of his own rogues. I was just wondering why he hasn’t been doing something to help Sylvester here. Help all of us.”


Fastaire looked for a moment more at Tuette and let a small smirk cross his lips. “Who says he isn’t?” and that was the end of it. They were rushed out of Fastaire’s workspace and accompanied to the large Stone back near the cliff. They were given a total of three ashleaf orbs, plus one to use immediately. Cherry looked worried to have to use the orb. When the alternative was explained, she was more animated about leaving with them via any means necessary.


The five of them quickly guzzled Potes that Tuette said were supposed to Refresh someone by making them feel energized. It was sorely needed as none had gotten a good night’s sleep, save Cherry. It was explained that by the time night fell, they’d lose the effects of their Refreshment Potes anyway and Sylvester hoped they found honest bedding by then.


Primed and ready to leave, the six of them settled their hands on the painfully cold Stone – a sign, they decided, that the Ring would carry them this time – and Sylvester wondered if this was, in fact, the best path for Cherry Tee. She had been plucked from a hostile living space and dragged through an even more dangerous one, all because of something she couldn’t readily control.


He thought of Tuette as well and how, as Dermy had pointed out, Cherry and her were facing very similar discriminations. But Sylvester knew little of Magik, one way or the other, so why did Tuette continue hiding her Curse? He wished he knew.


With Cherry supposedly entered into the Magik fold, however temporarily, they all uttered the line that would ferry them from Ac to only the gods knew where. After a few moments, the white tendrils tangled around the six people and Sylvester hoped it would place them all on whatever Seagulf Island held the next Stone in the Ring.


Though he did enjoy the worldly experience he was gaining by traveling through Decennia, he knew that he needed to stop Count Roost, if only to insure there was a kingdom worth traveling through in the future.