Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Seventeen

Tuette awoke, her head throbbing. Her arms also hurt but in a different manner. She looked and saw what might’ve been claw marks, or branch scratches, or…


Talons. These were caused by talons. Seleagle talons.


Her hand ached, coursing with an odd pain and, as thoughts flashed through her inside-eye, she recalled that it was in her left hand, her aching hand, that she had clutched the Dehydro Stone. It had obviously coaxed fluids from her hand, leaving it dry and sore to the touch. Where’s the Stone? Did the seleagles take it? If so, what do they need a weak Dehydro Stone for?


For that matter, where are we? The surroundings were dim and smelled strongly of old wood. Am I in a tolo of some kind?


She heard rustling now and some creature or creatures licking their lips. She immediately felt panicked because she couldn’t see too well and knew that her rucksack was not on her person. Tuette didn’t know what to do. Could whatever lie in the dark be fearsome and ready to strike the moment I make a sudden movement? Should I attempt a preemptive strike by groping around for something to swing at the beast and then leap? She knew she had to do something; she couldn’t wait in the dark forever.


Slowly, her eyes adjusted but not enough to discern what was inside the structure with her. But she could see a large portal nearby. Outside, lush trees were lazily moving with the night’s breeze. Tuette felt somewhat hopeful now, knowing she might be close enough to dart through the hole and find room to maneuver away from whatever-it-was.


The lip-licking continued and Tuette heard a gentle groan. That did it for her. She gathered her free-flowing skirt in one hand, awkwardly bunched, and threw her body through the makeshift doorway.


In nothing but a moment, she felt the sick pang of freefalling and realized too late that she had been inside a tree. Well above ground level.  Before a screamed was vocalized, the sensation stopped.


And she was being held in midair by an elderly man.


A new urge to scream entered her head as Tuette worked her mind as to what was happening. Is this a dream? Is this old, naked man representative of my father and he’s reaching from beyond time to save me from my irrational decisions?


“Hello, dearie!” he cackled quickly, smiling a not-so-toothy grin.


In a moment, she was being lifted back into the tree hole. Inside, a Glow Globe had been impossibly activated: the others were still out cold.


She suddenly felt coldness between her thighs and she felt mortified at what had happened. And she realized why she had woken up: she had felt the urge to urinate. In freefall, I must’ve let fear draw it out of me involuntarily. The old man sniffed in the vicinity of her crotch and she made to swat at him when he ducked away and laughed slightly. In a moment, the wetness was gone and she could only marvel on that. Had she put the Dehydro Stone in her waistline pocket? That didn’t seem possible, not with the seleagles coming at them like they had.


Tuette finally remembered what had happened, following the discovery of Eafa’s true demise: seleagles had launched themselves from the forest in the east and used their powerful wings to force the five journeypersons to the ground. Tuette had hoped to try and Freeze one or two but there were two many. The winds produced by their combined wingspan had been torrential, and they seemed to recognize that she posed some kind of threat because more had hovered around her.


Finally, in a desperate attempt to regain balance, she had stumbled, striking her head against a hard patch of dirt and obtaining unconsciousness. The others must’ve suffered a similar circumstance as they all were still in a deep reverie of dreamful sleep. She looked at the old man again, trying her best to avert her gaze from his wrinkled nether region. Is he a Mage of some kind? A perryta in exile? He had obviously dispelled Tuette of her accidental ejection so he had to harbor Magik knowledge of some kind.


“Who are you?”


“Jack ol Dorsa.”


The “ol” portion of his name denoted possible heritage from this area, in northern Javal’ta. But that wasn’t very useful. “What are you?”


Jack sighed but his smile didn’t falter and Tuette was immediately reminded of Dermy’s disguise and how it reversed the outward appearance for what was truly felt. Jack spoke. “I am a lonely individual. The eagles once kept me company. They’ve gotten bigger and have changed over the years. I remember the time before they could talk!”


Now Tuette was reminded of Reefetta. Had the same thing happened to this old man, except he’s been isolated for decades? Why does he call them eagles? Most everyone knew that the larger brand had speech capabilities and were identified as seleagles. And they lived hefty lives, outdistancing some humans in age. They were hearty creatures, indeed. For Jack to be able to remember when the aged birds couldn’t talk was a surefire sign that he had indeed been cooped up in this forest for far too long.


“What do you mean they once kept you company? Didn’t you ask them to bring us here?”


Jack’s grin broadened. “I do not control them! They are my friends. Or were, eh. It doesn’t matter much nows. I’m a tad lonely when they aren’t around. P’haps they brought you here to keep me company!”


Tuette didn’t like that idea. She had a major task to perform. But escaping this old man seemed like the next step in getting to Count Roost. Her thoughts then ground to a halt. They five of them still had a ways to go and if the seleagles could be persuaded to help at least reach the coast…


“Yes, you are very nice to be ‘round, yes. ‘minds me of Jillian.” His words had distracted her but she knew that if something like a plan revolving around assistance from the seleagles was to work, she needed to be nice to this old man.


“That’s, er… That’s so nice of you. Jack. Who’s Jillian?”


Tuette immediately regretted the question because Jack’s grin dissipated and he began to moan loudly, clutching his chest and shedding an unbelievable amount of tears. The undulations caused by his sobbing made parts of his nude body move about in ways that might’ve made Tuette lose her dinner, had she consumed any.


“Jillian was ma love!” That much was already assumed but if she was to get into good graces with this little man, she was going to have to be patient. “I was livin’ in dark times ‘fore I met her, eh!” He had begun to raise his voice to compensate the sobs and now the other members of her party, as seen in the light of the Glow Globe, were beginning to awaken. But who had activated the Globe? Jack continued, drawing Tuette’s attention. “After I met her, life got grand. Livin’ was okay.” Tuette was already piecing some items together herself. Obviously, this Jillian woman had left Jack a long, long time ago and he had exiled himself. Or she had died and he was so despondent that he preferred solitude. It stank wholly of Reefetta’s situation and Tuette immediately began to wonder how she was doing back in Scothil with the Koops.


“Who is that?” Tuette looked and saw Celester sitting up, leaning against the wall. He looked bruised, like he might’ve been hit in the face. Most likely, he had landed upon a rock, face first. She reserved the pleasure she felt by knowing he might’ve been in pain, a fact that was secured by him rubbing the bruised portion below his eye, on the edge of his ridiculous beard.


Jack looked alarmed, his sobs subsiding, as he looked at Celester and then at the other three as they were all coming out of their forced bouts of sleep. Didn’t he notice them before, or did their consciousness put him on alert? If he was uncomfortable, he might not help convince the seleagles into helping them.


“This is Jack ol Dorsa. He’s been living here for… quite a while. After he lost his Jillian.”


Scowling, Jack said, “Nah! I met Jillian after I was forced here, eh!”


Forced? Something suddenly didn’t feel right.


Celester groaned and said, “So, he’s been exiled here, like Reefetta?”


“Who Reefetta?” asked Jack with some anticipation, his grin returning. Tuette wished that he would put on some clothes. “She pretty like this one?” he said while jerking a thumb in Tuette’s direction.


Tuette felt appalled at being treated as such, a feeling that Celester obviously didn’t pick up on. “This one? Yeah! I’d say that Reefetta is actually a lot prettier than this one!” Coldness settled over Tuette’s heart. Surely I’m more attractive then Reefetta could ever hope to be! Tuette felt very self-aware just then, thinking that she looked so ridiculous and frumpy, having to always where the dacking hood. But she felt she had a pretty face at least, and a body to match.


“Maybe one of you…” began the old man.


“Jack, I’m sorry. But you were talking about Jillian. And you said you met her… after you began living here, among the sel—among the eagles?” She had to keep him on track and she didn’t want to hear all the males begin to talk about women in such a demeaning way. Secretly, she knew she didn’t want them to think that someone like Reefetta was more attractive than Tuette. Especially Terry, who was only now fluttering his eyes open.


Jack was brought back to his state of sobbing. Apparently, Jillian was classified as a sensitive subject. “She be gone! In the ground!” Tuette was becoming more curious about his story but impatience threatened to make her do something drastic, like slap the man to get him to focus. “Jillian… Jillian… I miss ‘er. I do! An’ Joy! Ooooh, Joy!”


It didn’t sound like something joyful to Tuette and she was preparing to strike the little man. She settled for laying her hand on his shoulder, if nothing more than to be closer for the slap.


“What is happening to him?” asked Celester.


“He’s crying. Can’t you see that?”


“No, what’s happening? His body!”


Tuette saw it now: Jack’s naked body was fading from sight. And, where her hand touched him, his skin was changing and suddenly, he was wearing the same outfit as Tuette, hood and all! The change made Celester jump up and the Guards finally turned their heads but couldn’t get up: they were in too much pain, apparently.


She let go of Jack’s shoulder instantly, anger tearing at her insides. This charlatan was no aged man to feel sorrow for; Tuette was deftly appalled. Jack was a World Spirit! “You’re no man!”


Jack stopped sobbing and when she blinked, he wasn’t there. She turned and he was behind her. “Of course I am! Or once was!”


“You made me feel sorry for you!” she shouted, feeling her face redden and her head ache at being duped into feeling truly-false emotions for such a trickster.


Jack looked surprised and, if possible, happily hurt. “Well, why shouldn’t you be? It’s a very sad story! And you’re a compassionate, human woman! I would think, of any these fleshers, you’d be the one to identify with.” He paused, his eyes looking beyond her. “Jillian was always compassionate.”


“So she was real? You fell in love with a real, living woman?”


Jack balked. “Don’t be absurd! Fleshers are on the bottom rung of the dung, missus!” He chewed his lip and Tuette wondered at the effect: Jack, like all World Spirits, could assume any form within their environments and even remain invisible but substantially effective. But he remained a miserly-looking man, wholly seen – maybe a bit too seen – as if he had nothing to hide. Tuette had assumed he was a trickster, but that might have been presumptuous. It was true that many World Spirits were bothersome, but she had not personally met one; she was going off of tittle-tattle, what she had heard from people like Corunny Voidet.


Tuette instantly felt ashamed for jumping to such a conclusion. She felt like she was no better than… well, possibly Celester. But she was finding that she didn’t truly know the king either. The truth regarding his kingstone had been a little unsettling, to say the least. But she would focus on that later. Jack continued speaking. “Jillian was a-nother of my kind! Another World Spirit!


“We were both despicable creatures when we were alive, however long ago. Odd that we both died in the same vicinity, near the same time, and we never even crossed paths in our first lives. It was still so many centuries, as I understand it, before our roots finally became gently intertwined, eh. When that happened, ho-boy, was it a surprise! Before that, I had only encountered fleshers, the eagles, and various rodents. The eagles, as I said, provided companionship. I would scare away any o’ the humans that were looking to hunt them so it was a good friendship.


“But Jillian was different. I hadn’t realized our roots crossed till I seen her on the fringe of my field, way in the sun. We got to know each other and eventually fell in love. What ever made us so hateful during the living years had finally melted away and all that was left was our bare spirits, eh. She confessed, finally, that she had the one regret of never having a child. Or children. We devised a plan, with the help of my eagles, to mix seeds and such from each other’s forests and have them planted where our roots met. Then we’d see what happened.


“It wasn’t long ‘fore Joy started growin’. An’ what made it so unusual for both of us is that she actually grew. Neither Jillian or I could adopt a human guise that appeared younger or older than ourselves. But Joy steadily could. We counted it as a miracle, eh.


“But then some fool ‘troduced a belcarotia on the other side o’ Jillian’s forest, her body. I couldn’t invade her space, ‘cept where we crossed. Joy could though, since she was kinda both of us, put in one. But Joy couldn’t stop the belcarotia. And Jillian couldn’t either. I sent my eagles and they stifled a few fires with them big wings, but suffered a few losses. Breathed in some smoke and crashed. And where there’s one belcarotia, eventually, there’s always more. The eagle’s protected Joy, but Jillian was burnt up.” Jack appeared to be crying and Tuette wondered again at the action: it wasn’t wholly necessary, except to inspire sympathy in others. He didn’t have to do it, but she didn’t say anything.


She didn’t set her hand on his shoulder either.


He continued. “For a while, I could talk to Jillian through our connection with Joy. The roots still be there but nothing much else. We Spirits are confined, in a physical sense. I can go up to the canopy but never ‘bove it. Her canopy is too close to the ground. She might as well be buried.


“But, few weeks ago, Joy disappeared and I couldn’t talk to Jillian anymore. I guess the roots that kept us connected had died and we were only speaking through Joy. But now I’m alone, ‘cept the eagles. They all sayin’ I’m different now.” He sniffled. “Wouldn’t you be?” Jack looked right into Tuette’s eyes, as if reading her own spirit, her memories. She felt ashamed, but not invaded.


“Joy didn’t die. She vanished. Like she was pulled out o’ the ground, roots an’ all! I need your help, missus. And his’n. And his’n. And you’s two. The eagles probably worried I can’t ‘tect them anymore. Not like anyone hunts a bird bigger than themselves nowadays. But what do I know?”


So this was why the seleagles had abducted them all: to help find the child of two World Spirits. It wasn’t often that travelers were spied wandering through the midlands and, indeed, they were the first encountered after Joy disappeared. The seleagles, led by one called Beverane, knew that humans were superstitious about World Spirits and had decided that force would be required in finding suitable assistance.


Tuette was not shy about wanting to help the poor World Spirit but she used that as leverage for getting aid from the seleagles. They needed the protection that he otherwise provided in return for their companionship: when confined, an individual will seek anybody who can but listen.


She explained their situation to Jack. He seemed all-too-happy to provide assistance. It was probably his enthusiasm that helped convince the seleagles to provide aerial support.


They spent the rest of the night trying to sleep, aiming to set out again at daybreak. So far, they were still on schedule, but might even be looking to make up for lost time with help from the seleagles. It sure beats having to all but beg Menginal for help. Especially considering that it was truly a long shot that he was still even in Gimble Valley.





*          ~          *          ~          *





In the morning, Jack provided them with fruit that Dermy felt, for some reason, had to be inspected. Obviously, Dermy had never had any experience with World Spirits. If Jack had wanted the fruits to look okay, they would, and then it’d turn out they had eaten rocks. Or animal droppings. Tuette didn’t care if they were being tricked into eating something disgusting: she was famished.


Jack, clothed in the manner of the king – which made Tuette smile as he wore the outfit better than Celester, and it was much cleaner – stood with them at the eastern edge of his forest. The scorched ruins of Jillian were easily spied, as was the large equidistance hole that had obviously been Joy’s spot of berth and birth, coincidentally.


A group of seleagles landed without applause and slowly walked up to the humans, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Tuette realized they probably never had to accommodate for “fleshers” like this but she decided that thanks were necessary for their consideration; landing right next to the group might’ve caused wind issues and landing away and hopping to their destination, as birds are known to do, might also have inspired fear in the humans. Beverane was among them and Tuette spoke her thanks.


“It is nothing when it comes tooo our future protection.” He paused, clapping his beak. “So we will help yooo with this quest fooor the king, Tooo-ette. But yooo must promise tooo assist in locating young Joy. She is a rarity, as I understand it.” Beverane knew all too well how invaluable something like a new World Spirit was, but Tuette didn’t ponder how; being so close to the large bird, facing him as he stood on the ground and almost towered over her felt odd and she was fearful but she couldn’t understand exactly why.


“We made our promise already,” said Celester. Tuette felt disturbed that he would say such a thing. He really should think before he speaks. “I only hope the surviving splints make it back to Mount Reign okay.” She couldn’t believe him: the king was being given a great service here and he was worried about the other splints. Tuette silently reeled as she knew that the persons that set this quest up could’ve easily allowed her usage of her swan-home and quicker passage for them all. She still didn’t understand why…


Beverane then suddenly became agitated, flicking his head around in a manner only attributed to predators. Tuette, on instinct, stepped back, drawing herself in as he began to clutch at the air with his powerful beak; her previous thoughts melted away at this visually fearful display. She knew it was a prejudicial reaction on her part that the seleagles had been experiencing for centuries, but she couldn’t help it. “I do not wish tooo… alarm yooo, Tooo-ette. A… buzzer has landed on me… and seems tooo… be speaking.”


A buzzer? “What’s it saying?” she asked, immediately doubting the bird’s sanity. Has time with Jack delineated the flyer’s sense of reality?


“Unintelligible sentences. It is moooving… about.” Beverane stopped. “There. Atop my crown.” Tuette stepped closer and there certainly was a buzzer atop Beverane’s head: it was a large fly, about as big as a thumbnail.


“I don’t hear anything, Beverane.”


The others, who had crowded forward, also heard nothing.


He looked delightfully annoyed, as only a seleagle could. “It is saying nothing now, Tooo-ette.”


Suddenly, he jerked slightly and Tuette heard a faint whispering but couldn’t make out the words, except for “Curse” and “king” and “Roost”


And “trap”.


“I am maintaining composure, for yooo. So yooo may list—“ That was all she heard when there was suddenly a loud pop that caused Tuette to excessively flinch, along with everyone else.


And Beverane wasn’t there anymore.


Instantly, she thought that she had been possessed by an Artificial and it had been withdrawn: the effect was very similar, she had heard. Like standing in one spot and then being somewhere else, or even in the same spot but with things slightly moved. But time was always displaced as well, and nothing else surrounding Tuette was different.


Beverane had literally vanished.


She swiped her hand through the air he had recently occupied, somewhat fearful that he might snap at her with his largely dangerous beak if he was invisible. But nothing was there. The seleagle was simply gone.


Destroyed? That doesn’t seem likely. Tuette would be the first to admit she wasn’t close to knowing every Magik recitation and ritual. But what could make a being as large as Beverane instantly dissipate? Or shrink, maybe? She suddenly became cautious of her footing but realized the error in that as if Beverane had been shrunken, he’d be flying around, not walking.


Flying, yes. The fly. That speaking buzzer has to have something to do with it. It was true that many birds and reptiles had speech capabilities carried down through the centuries, but she wondered if flies or other insects also been altered. That seemed unlikely, unless they had been used to convey messages from army leaders to troops and vice verse.


“What did yooo dooo?” demanded a smaller seleagle, attracting Tuette’s attention. “Beverane! Where is he?” He stalked forward quickly and looked like he might attack Tuette simply based on the idea that she had caused their leader to disappear.


Thankfully, Jack intervened. He appeared directly in front of the large bird, formed as a wide tree trunk with two impressively sized limbs. “Breezel! She could not have done nothin’, eh? You all heard the little buzzer, sayin’ garble stuff. She was standin’ still and did nothin’! Do not be ‘timidatin’ her!”


Breezel backed down, still looking flustered: a few feathers had molted off. The other seleagles looked equally disquieted and Tuette wondered if this sudden turn of events had caused them to lose faith in the humans and their plan.


The bird then sighed. “I apologize, human.” He then physically calmed himself and the other did likewise. “But what happened tooo Beverane?”


Tuette could only shrug, her heart aching slightly, her mind reeling at how Beverane had disappeared. Her adage was that anything was possible with Magik, but this seemed suspect; she knew the nature of true teleportation Charms and this was covered by none of those rules.


She was also feeling somewhat emotional for the Spirit as he reappeared like before, though his garb was less adjusted to his stature. He was smiling, this time with too many teeth. Jack was a good man, which was ironic because he wasn’t a man any longer: he was shackled to this lush forest until Valtos found the time to finally order Salrouge to collect the World Spirits.


“Is there anything else we can do here, Tuette?” asked Celester. He was maintaining a coldly rational mind over the subject and Tuette immediately wished she had been able to do the same thing; they were here for a reason and the lost seleagle might have to be counted up as one of the casualties. She shook her head mechanically, feeling sickened by the notion of helplessness. She also felt weak in the eyes of Jack and the other seleagles, but if they felt that way, they did a good job at hiding it.


Without words, the five mounted seleagles, one each. She sent a glance over at the singed remains of Jillian’s forest and then she looked back at Jack. He was still smiling but she knew he couldn’t be feeling anything but sorrow over losing touch with the only other Spirit he’d come into contact with. How could he feel anything but? The situation reeked of Reefetta’s happening and she looked at Celester, who had taken sides with that lying man, Yuka. With resolve, she decided to take action: she knew she couldn’t immediately do anything about Beverane, but she could at least ease Jack’s pain. Tuette dismounted from her seleagle, a muscled male named Burinn. The seleagle squawked first. “What is it yooo dooo?”


Tuette strode across the area that had been protected from the fires, passing the point where Joy was reputed to have grown. In a moment, she tripped but landed against a soft puff of air. Or at least something solidly invisible. She had been counting on something like this. “Jillian?”


There was a stir and Tuette fell the minute distance that remained between her and ground. Turning her head, ever mindful that she not scrape her hood lest it come off and reveal her situation, she saw another woman that hadn’t been there before. She was lying in a position that would be the mirror opposite of Tuette. “You smell delightful,” said what was obviously Jillian. She does almost resemble me with her hair, lengthy and blonde. Though both were lying down, they seem of similar height… but Tuette remembered that Jillian, like all World Spirits, could make themselves look like anything. She didn’t trust this to be Jillian’s true form. But she saw what Jack was talking about. And she was slightly flattered.


The comment Jillian made caused Tuette to feel a little uncomfortable but she flashed a smile, recognizing that she obviously had the overall scent of Jack’s forest upon her. “Jack says hello. And that he misses you.” Jillian smiled even brighter than Tuette and looked like she might cry.


“How is he, miss flesh?”


“You may call me Tuette. And he is saddened at the loss of your Joy. But we have been enlisted to help retrieve her, wherever she went.” A notion formulated in her head and she felt a little giddy and began to laugh. “The fly!” she shouted. She pushed herself up to look back at the others, who had not followed and actually began to look impatient. She looked down and the woman wasn’t there anymore. Lowering herself underneath the layer of the singed forest, Jillian appeared for Tuette again. “Jillian, I think I know where Joy was taken. And it, for some reason, coincides with our cause! I think.”


“Then you need not waste time giving me details, Fleshtuette!” Jillian was smiling ever larger. “You may go! Flee!” Tuette made to get up and, though Jillian disappeared from sight, she grabbed Tuette’s wrist as it was still within the confines of the environ. Tuette fell under the touch and could see and hear Jillian once more. “Thank you for the words. I miss Jack terribly. In time, I will flourish again, but that will be a long while. Tell Jack… something romantic. I cannot think straight at the moment. The happiness you’ve brought has misaligned my ideas.”


Tuette nodded, understanding. She got up, returned to the others who had all dismounted their own seleagles, and heard Celester say “What was that about? I thought you said there was nothing to do here?”


Smiling, Tuette reproached the king. “I didn’t say anything, just shook my head.” Celester huffed but Tuette ignored it, smiling and looking instead to Jack. “Jillian says hello, Jack. And she misses you greatly.” Jack looked like he was going to become emotional and he floated away from the group to rest in the shadows. She looked at the king, Dermy, and the Guards. “Joy and Beverane both disappeared from this area. I know that Beverane had to have been taken by that large talking fly, somehow! But what if that fly has already been here and that’s what took Joy?”


Celester looked doubtful. “The fly took the plant and the bird?”


She felt her smile falter a little but maintained resolve that she was right. “Yes, it had to. It mentioned you, King, and Count Roost, and some kind of trap. Which is what I already proposed.” Tuette knew she was sounding self-righteous but she didn’t care at the moment because she knew she had been right days ago.


“But if you’re right, we have to encounter Roost anyway and not just to stop the Curse but to get Joy back. Why is this man toying with us?”


“He probably sent the fly as extra insurance…”


“But Jack said Joy was taken weeks ago, before the Curse was even cast. What’s his real game about that?”


Tuette chewed her lip, staring at the ground to let her mind wrap around the different thoughts. “Then maybe it’s just a coincidence. Maybe Roost knows that Joy is invaluable and he wants to exploit that somehow.”


“How’n? Worl’ Spir’ts be too lim’ted, T’ette. Roos’ canna be doin’ much with’n one, oh.”


“Then maybe he needs the plant itself and he didn’t recognize that it was a World Spirit until it was too late.”


“But if that’s true, why not transport me straight there?” asked the king.


Tuette pondered, her head energies firing rapidly. That’s a good point. If Celester is the true target for Roost, why didn’t the fly get him already?


“Maybe he’s tried and your kingstone…” She paused, knowing that it was a sensitive subject still. But she had to put out any ideas she could, if only to ease their minds. She knew she had to be right about this. “Maybe it does protect you somewhat. From Magik.”


Celester shook his head. “I think I’d remember a large fly buzzing around me and talking to me. It sounds more like it’s the fly that is shying us away from the count. And it knows that landing on me is the best way to talk to me: if it does that, it runs the risk of taking me with it. It was still talking when Beverane was taken, yes?” Tuette nodded, already seeing the logic. “Then the fly itself must not know when it will transport anything with it. And it might be a slave to the count…”


Terry, who had been curiously quiet, mounted his seleagle again and began to strike it like one would a splint. What’s he doing? The action drew everyone’s attention.


The king stepped up. “Terry, what you doing? We’ll leave in a moment.” He looked at Tuette. “As soon as we can figure some stuff out.”


“I’ve already figured it out.” She was losing her composure, her excitement. Somehow, this monarchial brute had the power to do that to her. And Tuette hated it.


Terry began striking the seleagle again. Breezel and Burrin and the others began to look agitated, as did Bonset, the seleagle Terry was upon. “Human,” Bonset stated. “I dooo not require strikes against my feathers. Desist.” The Guard pretended he didn’t hear and began hitting harder, as if that was going to make the seleagle actually go.


Bonset huffed once in agitation and then reared up, looking menacing and annoyed. Terry fell instantly, scrambled to his feet… and was drooling.


Tuette swore. “Oh, dack! It’s an Artificial!”


The other men instantly became wary. The older Guard unsheathed his sword and took a defensive posture. Dermy ran behind Jack, who vanished in that same moment, causing Dermy to hide behind the king. Celester stood his ground, staring in contempt amazement. Tuette felt herself groping around inside her rucksack, knowing that the only thing viable to stop Terry, if he became aggressive, was the Freezing Pote.


Or my Firedom Expansion Pote. If she used that, she knew that she’d be putting Jack at risk, only to let him suffer the same cruel fate that Jillian was now serving out.


Terry drew his own sword, handling it expertly and walked backwards, moving out of Jack’s field of influence and just shy of Jillian’s. So Jack can’t stop him in case he decides to harm one of us. With that, she thought she saw a tinge of bloodlust as she made eye contact with the possessed Guard. Tuette was beginning to despise whoever had created the Charm that brought Artificials about. Especially since she knew that no one would be able to stop Terry from doing whatever it was he was trying. It was a Charm cast from afar and they’d already deduced that Roost was behind it. I just didn’t know how. And since he was trying to get the king to come to the Seagulf Islands, the Artificial was trying as well.


But she knew it didn’t need everyone else to make it to the Islands: just Celester.


Terry gestured to Bonset again, pointing his sword at the bird. “Dooo not point menace at me, human!” He then attempted to strike at the man with his beak


Tuette quickly explained to the seleagles what had happened. “This human wishes only tooo continue the journey?” asked Burrin.


“Yes,” Tuette answered. “And he’ll do anything to make sure we get to Count Roost in time. Even kill.”


“Then why provoke him?”


Pausing with confusion, Tuette said, “What?”


“He only wants the journey tooo continue. We are done here. Let us depart.”


That made sense and Tuette felt foolish for not realizing it before. She was the first to mount a seleagle. Artificial-Terry straightened his stance, sheathed his own sword, and motioned for Bonset to step forward so he could mount the bird outside of the tethered environs: the Artificial apparently recognized that the danger Jack or Jillian could cause was great. The others followed suit, Celester saying, “Okay, we can discuss this in the air, I suppose.”


“I doubt it,” said the older Guard.


“Wait’n!” yelled Jack who had reappeared among the group, clothed in the manner of the king again.


“We can’t. The Artificial might do something awful. And it’ll take something awful to stop him.” She grimaced, knowing that Freezing him wasn’t the most awful thing that anyone could do.


“Take these.” He opened his hand and floated a small leaf-sewn sack towards Tuette. “Acorns. Three of ‘em.”


Tuette felt her heart burst. Acorns were used in wood-based Magiks. And they were difficult to find as woodland critters tended to prize them away for themselves for untold reasons.


“If you needin’ ma help, make yourself a quick forest. Script’s inside that details how. I’ll be there for a time, since they be from ma wood.”


She wondered why he had waited so long to give them this little gift but decided not to look a gift splint in the mouth. “Thank you,” she said quietly.


Then they were off. She looked back and, where Jack had been standing and waving moments, there was only empty air. She realized that was the trade-off of being a World Spirit: they control everything inside their area but can’t be seen from the outside. And they can’t see outside. Tuette imagined being blind to everything but what was immediately in front of her and she felt a sense of panic begin to rise.


She patted Burrin on his neck and then reached around his neck to clasp her hands together. The speed frightened her. The birds probably found it to be taxing to carry the additional weight but said nothing, knowing the end result was to their benefit. They were obviously flying lower and more slowly than they might otherwise, but the tradeoff was better.





*          ~          *          ~          *





The older Guard – she felt bad that she didn’t know his name like she did Terry – had been correct: speaking while in the air was impossible. The wind whipped about them all and Tuette feared that her hood would be torn away from her scalp, and at the very least exposing her Cursed form.


At most, the swan-shaped mass would catch its own wind and rip her away from Burrin’s back, depositing her on the ground with an imprecise splat. She also had to keep her eyes shielded from the stinging wind and she had to rely almost entirely on the bird’s sense of direction. Which is rumored to be infallible, anyway. But how do the seleagles see with all this wind in their faces? She would ask when they landed.


The trip through the air gave her time to think about things, like Eafa’s death, and what she might’ve done to avoid it. Should I have cast a Curse against Terry or Dermy in order to save the animal? It wasn’t clear that she could Curse Celester so she didn’t want to take a chance. And she was also uncertain of a couple other things:


If I cast the Curse of Truth and commanded Dermy to talk about a storm quickly brewing, would it even work? She’d used the Curse to Truth to keep people honest in situations that demanded it but she had never been sure if the Truth produced the words or if the words, indeed, caused the Truth to come about, like a prophecy being spoken and obligingly realized.


Tuette also knew that casting a Curse would publicly reveal that she was Cursed… and she silently wondered why she was keeping it a secret anymore. It wasn’t like the others were prejudicial against Cursed folk. Except that Celester had made the comment before, stating that only a Cursed person would aim to kill Eafa as a means of making sure they could perform a Reverse of their own. When he said that, she had felt terrible because she had let her head energies run that same course a couple hundred times during the journey. She even knew that was why she had coerced the troupe to go after Count Roost personally, so she could have her chance at the chickens well after the fact. The count made the case an easy sell on his own; she just provided that extra push.


But she felt sorry for the animal and confused for the situation. Who would want to stop Celester from Reversing the Curse against Decennia?


Tuette realized she was looking at the question from the wrong angle. Who would want Roost to remain alive? But, no, Celester had stated that the tampering had most likely taken place well before the quartet had arrived at Zharinna, meaning that someone was aiming to stop the Reverse itself from being performed.


Someone who was equally Cursed and didn’t want their status to be revealed when the kingdom-spanning Curse of the Thumb took effect, as in Tuette’s own case? It wasn’t wholly difficult to discern the nature of the king’s quest: if Ta Speebie had picked up on the Curse and the Reverse, anyone with experience could. Maybe even someone who worked with Ta Speebie herself.


So they were dealing with a ta or a freelancer of equitable experience. Someone who needs to cast their own Reverse, maybe? Like the king said? That seemed very logical. There were undoubtedly numerously Cursed individuals that had already suffered the dispassionate aim of Corunny Voidet. Or even Count Roost! And since two separates Curses had already been charged with the exact same Reversals, then it was feasible to believe that even more existed. Count Roost was obviously not very imaginative, reusing old Reverses as he did.


Tuette, with her head buried in Burrin’s neck, turned and saw Celester on top of his seleagle. The wind didn’t hinder her from this new position. Celester had his own face buried into the neck of his seleagle and there it was, exposed with loose hair and fabric framing it like a portrait: the kingstone. It glinted in the early morning sunlight, red in color. And, from this distance, it looked quite plain. Tuette didn’t know what she had expected. After being told briefly about it by Craspone, she had pictured a lavish gem inset in the man’s neck, raised up for all to see and feel; an embroidered, metal lattice providing a more adequate frame than his currently-greasy hair.


But it was very plain and small. She imagined it felt like the weight of the world though, or at least the heft of Decennia. Tuette then grimaced, wondering as to why sorrow was beginning to creep into her thoughts. Analyzing the notions, she decided that she did feel somewhat sorry for the man; he bore a title he couldn’t handle that everyone assumed he innately could.


Yes, the king’s revelation had been truly shocking. His kingstone didn’t work. He was unsure of his degree of protection in regards to both Magik and physical harm. Did the previous king suffer the same problem? What was his name? What about the king before him? How long had the kingstone been ineffective? Tuette reevaluated what she knew about Decennia as a whole and deduced that it had to have been at least Celester’s father that suffered the same fate. Under his reign, that’s when the Nementor Path began to become less of a priority.


But with Celester, the awful Malforcrent was called into action. It was obviously the tents all taking advantage of the king’s unintentional handicap. Celester said they didn’t even know about the kingstone and that might’ve been readily believed if Tuette herself hadn’t first garnished the information from the previous agricultural specialist.


No, the kingstone was dangerously close to being public knowledge. And if the Malforcrent knew about it, odds were that they knew it wasn’t functioning properly.


Her next thought almost made Tuette’s breath catch. Will the kingstone ever be repaired? After being told what it was, she had not been able to find any additional information anywhere. Granted, she was limited in where she could search, but what Tuette could access held nothing on the matter. After the Magikals of Decennia’s early years had arranged to have a king chosen by Magik, they obviously just let contact between the throne and Gale Marsht disintegrate, and for good reason. There were far too many conflicts in the past that started with someone in a position of power using Magik to further their grip.


Celester didn’t seem that way though. He seemed… simple, even, like he might not even want to be king. Tuette assumed that this quest he was gallivanting on was a way to show the Malforcrent his abilities. But did he also need the excuse to leave the mountain? Is he tired of it all? Her mind then drifted to his hearty effort in stopping Artificial-Reefetta a day or two before. If Celester had known he wasn’t under any kind of definite protection, what had driven him?


Tuette found that she didn’t want to think about that notion. Not really. Instead, she turned her head and looked at Terry… and felt even more sorrow for her was Artificial-Terry and he was mounted on Bonset, drooling excessively, facing the wind, and blinking away any bugs that might have smacked into his eyes. His face was marred by such carcasses already but they didn’t bother the man so he didn’t intend to swipe them away. He was simply and invasively possessed.


Tuette had been around possessed persons before but these last two cases were the worst and best examples of the Magik. The target was essentially a slave and the body suffered in many ways. Tuette only imagined how much the Artificial had forced Terry to eject his waste upon Bonset. Judging by the bird’s look of disgust, at least once. The possessed was made stronger but basically treated like a puppet. With a Charmed-from-Afar variant, Tuette knew very little. She had heard Voidet’s description and hopes that he would eventually create an Artificial that he could actually control from afar but this didn’t seem like that type. It didn’t speak. It only acted or reacted.


Thinking about the fact that it was a Charmed-from-Afar Artificial, she was forced to wonder again about what initially brought it to the group. And twice in two days! Her thoughts almost instantly pinpointed the talking fly. It had spoken of the count and it was clear that Roost was using Corunny Voidet’s tome of scripts. Is the fly the conduit? If so, it probably doesn’t know. Otherwise, it might’ve stayed away from the king because, as Celester had suggested, it was probably working against Roost as it purposefully missed the chance to bring the king to the count.


Tuette thought to the incident with Reefetta and the chickens. The fly had to have been there as well and just hadn’t been noticed. She remembered that Terry had counted the corpses and she realized that the insect must’ve taken the missing chicken. What a fly would need with a chicken, Tuette didn’t know, but that meant that Roost probably had Joy, a chicken, and Beverane, if the truth was backing her notions.


Realizing again that a simple Curse of Truth could verify her thoughts, she deduced that casting one might not be such a bad idea, if only to prove it. I don’t have to make a big deal about it. No grand show or anything. Just a simple Curse on Dermy, as he’ll understand, and I’ll even order a very simple Reverse so he can be free of an otherwise damning situation.


Tuette had refocused on Terry again after her head was settled, and realized he had taken on a different stance. He was blinking more rapidly, hunched over and clutching Bonset madly.


With horror filling Tuette’s mind, she saw Terry clearly lose his balance and fall terribly from Bonset’s back.


Bonset let out a shriek that drew everyone’s attention and the seleagle swooped down after Terry. The other seleagles slowed and began to descend as quickly. Without so much wind, Tuette was able to take in the surroundings. They had not yet reached even central Javal’ta, a feat in itself as it was a very long region from north to south.


The ground wasn’t far below but high enough to cause serious damage. Especially if one were to land on their head. Fortunately, Terry was headed towards a canopy of trees that stood as an oasis in a vast plain of midland. To the south was a simple village that Tuette didn’t know by site.


To the north, over the area they had just flown, was a very small tolo as recognized by the shallow angle of the roofline and the bowed-in stance of the supporting walls, five total. There was a small garden to the left of the tolo and a pathway leading off to the right and behind.


No path led to the nearby village.


Terry landed with a screech that was heard even in the air. Burrin landed gently near the trees with the lone tolo behind him. The other landed close by. By the time they all had dismounted and approached the trees, Terry had moved his way down the various branches and was lying on the ground, groaning and wiping his face.


Tuette leaned down, feeling her hood tighten against her forehead: her skirt had bunched beneath her and she readjusted it before trying to help Terry up. He groaned when Tuette touched his arm and she assumed it might be broken, or at least severely bruised.


“What happened?” asked Celester. Tuette thought he might’ve been smart enough to figure it out but he was probably slowed by his personal ineptness. Or his broken kingstone. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know which.


“The Artificial left his body.”


“Artificial?” he asked. “I was possessed?”


She nodded, getting the first hint of his urine-stained outfit as it carried suddenly on the gentle breeze. “What do you remember?” asked the other Guard.


Terry shook his head. “Um, it’s fuzzy. But I think it was us standing with the eagles, ‘bout to say goodbye to Jack.”


Tuette refrained from correcting him on the fact that they were seleagles and instead helped him up by grabbing his other arm.


Terry was cradling his injured arm when a new voice entered the fray. “I can fix it!” They all jumped when they realized that a short, elderly man had joined them.


“Sweet dack! Another Spirit?” exclaimed Celester.


She was inclined to believe it herself as she looked around to see what he could’ve possibly been tied too. It seemed odd that they encounter two World Spirits in the same day when most people never encountered one in their entire life. If he was a Spirit, he had to have been tethered to the small oasis of trees that Terry had landed within. She looked behind the group and deduced he must’ve simply come from the small tolo.


“You kids havin’ Spirit troubles?” asked the old man.


“Who are you?” asked the king, a little more forceful than he otherwise should’ve spoken. He must still assume the old man is a World Spirit.


“I’m Ed.”


“Just Ed?”


“No, Ed. Who are you?”


Celester seemed confused by the question. “I’m the King of Decennia.”


Ed seemed unfazed. “The king? Impressive.” She doubted that Ed thought as much but also thought it was polite of him to say it. “Well, King, I’d be glad to fix that man’s arm. Maybe give you a hot meal. Or a meal in general.”


Celester looked at the trees. “There is no food on these trees. And I’m truly not hungry enough to eat anything that might come from…”


“We’d be happy to take you up on your offer, if only to have Terry’s arm fixed.” The king looked confused again. She leaned closer and spoke quietly to the king. “He’s not a World Spirit. He’s just an old man. He lives over there.”


Celester looked where Tuette was pointing, obviously seeing the small tolo for the first time. Such a fine display of his observational skills. She smirked and they headed across the plain. The seleagles said they would return shortly and Tuette imagined they were seeking food for themselves as well.





*          ~          *          ~          *





When they first entered, Tuette immediately noted the Magik items on the shelves. Some were small sculptures like she had seen at Ta Speebie’s: they were so finely crafted. What had that old woman said about them? They were originals of some type. Turtle? Or Burtle, maybe? Ed drew her away from them quickly, motioning that they sit at a table that was centrally placed inside the tolo.


A meal was prepared in almost no time at all, as that was what an experienced Magikal could do on such short notice. If not, they were dealing with a very lonely man who always had something to eat on hand. Thankfully, he revealed himself to be a Mage.


“I once served the perryta in Mokal out there.” He gestured to the village pretty much just outside the door. “Not ‘fficially, since I’m no ta, but I know more than even he does!” He licked his lips which still looked cracked, despite the effort. “But when he found himself some ‘gitimate tas, I was tossed. Ma home be ou’side Mokal’s true jurs’diction but I still get some residents comin’ to me with problems. Like the Guard here, with broken bones. I’m a good mender, mind you.”


At that, Tuette immediately thought of Dermy’s arm and how his disguise was eating at the bone. But when he looked into the specialist’s eyes, she could see that he didn’t want her to bring anything up about it. She decided she would comply.


For now.


“You mend bones?” asked the king. How many times does something have to be explained to him?


Ed nodded, serving another helping of some sort of dry salad to the older Guard. “I do, sir, yes. I mend bones, pots, minds, and hearts.” He then flashed a gummy grin that was unevenly pocked with blank spots and black teeth. The site suddenly made Tuette conscious of her own teeth and she felt like washing them thoroughly after the meal.


“You mend minds and hearts? Like, if someone doesn’t think straight, or falls out of love or something?”


Tuette suppressed a sigh, remembering that he truly didn’t know any better. “Celester, he was joking about the last part.”


The king’s eyes flashed and she could see his jaw set firmly underneath his beard. His nostrils flared once, and then again. Tuette guessed it might’ve been about noon then as tolo’s were known to get hot when Brill above beat his heat onto the roofs. That or she was, herself, feeling hot under the collar for some reason. She didn’t know why though, but some sort of tension had settled over the interior.


Ed then made a loud click with his tongue and then chuckled, drawing everyone’s attention with his brief display of madness. “Ho ho!”


“What’s so funny?” she asked, trying to avoid the king’s piercing gaze. Is my Curse showing? Is that what he’s staring about? Valtos, I hope not!


“Ho-oh! His name be Sylvester, miss!”


“What?” she said, now thoroughly confused. Is he talking about the other Guard? “Him?” she asked while pointing to the older Guard.


Ed clicked again and then set about laughing a little more now, his face reddening from the effort. “Actually, yes! He is too! Two Sylvester’s, oh-ho!” In her peripheral, she saw a small look of shock pass over Terry’s face. Apparently, he’s never encountered such a situation before either.


“Two? Who’s the first?”


“I am!” shouted the king while pounding his fist against the surface of the table… and Tuette felt her face go crimson from the rushing blood of embarrassment. I’ve been calling him Celester. And too his face, no doubt!


She could only stammer an attempt at explaining but nothing came to mind. Tuette felt like such a fool. This old man, this Ed-stranger, had been the one to reveal it and no one else had. How many times had I said Celester and nobody attempted to correct me? Tuette realized finally why the king would look so menacing every time she said it. And how, with every iteration, something had caused enough distraction to let her get away with it.


Until now.


Tuette felt more than just foolish now. She felt just as angry as Celest – Sylvester! – as he felt! “Why didn’t you tell me?” she shouted back at the king, standing a little in an attempt to tower over him. “Or you?” she pointed at Dermy. “Or one of you two?”


The king looked at the older Guard. “Your name is also Sylvester?”


The older Guard nodded. “Most everyone just calls me Vest though.”


Sylvester nodded. “Well, at least that’s part of your name.” He looked back at Tuette, looking up into her heated face. “What’s say, Hooette? Wanna butcher his name too? Maybe call him Test? Or Pest?”


Tuette felt a froth building up inside her throat and knew she might spit it out if she tried to speak. So she settled back into the chair and took a forkful of salad into her mouth, hoping the anger-inspired froth went back down with it.


Sylvester then looked at Ed. “How did you know my name, Ed?” He gave her a quick sidelong glance.


Ed shrugged his shoulders. “It’s something I can do, for some’n other reason. Don’t know why. I look at someone long enough, holdin’ my breath. When my tongue clicks, their full name pops into ma head.”


Tuette had never heard of such a thing but didn’t want to comment on it. She was still enraged about the turn of events that caused her to look like such a kriffing idiot. With her silence, she was able to finish off her salad well before anyone else and began on the salted meat that Ed had placed at the table’s center. She knew she might eat it all if someone didn’t stop her. Or if she didn’t cut off a small piece for herself.


She didn’t cut off a piece and no one stopped her.


They continued conversing without her: Sylvester about their quest and Ed about nothing in general. That is, until he mentioned an even faster means of travel than the seleagles.


“See, a bit west of Mokal is a pair o’ big Stones that are part of the Ring of Ten Minus Two.”


“The Ring of Eight?” Sylvester asked, a question that actually made Tuette want to confirm his questionable mathematic skills, but she declined because she also feared she might say something more course. Ed finished clearing his own plate and then retrieved a simple Heal Pote from his lowest shelf near the back.


“Here. Take that outside. Pour it in a bowl. Add some dirt. Mix it up with your hands… or hand, and rub the mud where it hurts. Be good in no time.” Terry followed orders as quickly as only his kind could. Ed turned to the king and sat down again. “No. The Ring of Ten Minus Two. Everyone knows that ten of ‘em were Charmed centuries ago, during an eclipse, but no one knows were the last two be at.”


Sylvester frowned and Tuette felt like throwing her now-empty plate at him. She knew she was a poor thrower through and would probably end up hitting Vest or Dermy or nothing at all. “But you said they were stones. And they’re set into giant rings or something like that?”


Ed smiled and Tuette hoped that showed how stupid the question was. She felt like answering for the old man because she already knew of the Ring. She had just assumed they were too inaccessible as she had no knowledge on their locations, except for the pair in Accordia, back west and then some. Still, Ed explained: “King, sir, it’s a Ring, like a network, of large Stones. You can be instantly taken from one spot,” he put his finger against the table and then jumped that same finger to another point on the table,” to another. Straight away.”


Sylvester made to look at Tuette first but averted his gaze to look at Dermy; apparently, he still felt uncomfortable about her misunderstanding as well. “Just like the eagle. And Joy.”


“Enjoy? Enjoy what?” asked Ed.


“Not enjoy. And… Joy.” Sylvester then explained, with Dermy’s assistance, the predicament involving Beverane and Jack’s Spirit daughter.


Ed shook his head when they concluded, frowning. “Don’t know nothin’ about that. Didn’t think something like that be possible without big ol’ Stones. But the Stones west should ‘ventually take you to the Seagulf Islands, at least. I know that Schove has one of ‘em. Maybe Boost has the other’n,” he shrugged, not committing to either notion. It didn’t bode much confidence in his words.


Tuette thought quietly while they conversed. Can we risk a trip through the Ring? It was said to operate on Battery Magik, which was a type of Magik that built itself up over time and was usually required for larger Charms as a means of charging it for eventual use. The problem was that Tuette wasn’t sure if each conduit in the Ring operated on its own Battery Magik or if it was the whole Ring as one, another reason she had never bothered to bring it up. She decided she’d ask Ed shortly before they left, when she wasn’t in earshot of the king.


She stewed for a minute longer on the subject of the king and the mistaken identity. Why hadn’t he thought to correct me already? Why had it essentially taken a stranger to inform me? He had plenty of opportunities to do so when she hadn’t just said his name. Perhaps he forgot as soon as something else came up? That doesn’t speak highly of his mental prowess.


Tuette looked at Dermy. Why hadn’t he at least informed me? Had he tried? Maybe he‘s feeling depressed about his own predicament and thought to spite me? She might understand that, but it was a stretch. She felt herself getting flustered again at the situation and thought that the only way to get over it was to either embrace it with humor or ignore it.


A mixture of both was what she decided on. Knowing that she could push the king’s buttons by merely misstating his name was indeed a plus on her part. Deciding to go ahead and ask Ed about the Ring, she sat up, the motion drawing the men into a silent state. “Ed, you mentioned the Ring. I thought it worked on Battery Magik.”


“What’s that?” asked Sylvester, suddenly more suspicious than he had a right to be.


The old man smiled again. “Not the whole network, nah. Each Stone does though. But you needn’t worry ‘bout them runnin’ out of juice on ya. No one uses them.”


“And why not?” asked Sylvester, still carrying a hint of suspicion.


Sighing only slightly, Ed sat up in his chair. “Being straight with you, they can be a bit dangerous.”


Sylvester’s jaw opened slightly and he looked between Ed and Tuette. “Dangerous? Dangerous how?”


Tuette said, “They’ve been known to throw travelers a good distance from the Stone, when traveling alone.”


“But see? You are a good sized group! Ya’ll won’t be chucked too far! Certainly not far enough to cause problems.” He stood up again, a notion seeming to have come about. “And if ya do, I got more Heal Pote you can use to fix yourselves up, yes!” Indeed, he did have many vials, all filled with the milky white substance.


The king squinted a little. “And you think there’s a pair near Boost? At least among the Seagulf Islands?”


Ed set the vials on the table – they clattered and rolled around – while he retrieved something else from the lower shelf on the back wall. This was a map weave. When he unrolled it, it showed a more up-to-date version of Decennia, with Uv-Hren and Jint clearly marked. The Seagulf Islands were also present; each island wasn’t labeled but a list of islands that made up the chain was underneath the printing of Seagulf Islands.


Reaching into a bag that he also had withdrawn with the weave, Ed pulled out what was probably fig fur, but Tuette didn’t ask. He sprinkled it lightly on the top half of Decennia, pulled out another amount and sprinkled a smaller amount on the bottom half. While he was spreading the furs, he was muttering something that Tuette didn’t hear completely but she knew it had to be some kind of Locator Spell. It ended with Ed saying “Ring of Ten” and the furs began to faintly glow in four hazy points on the map, each of the points ovular in nature. “See? That be where each pair of the Stones in the Ring are.”


Sure enough, Tuette saw an oval over Accordia and another amidst the Seagulf Islands. There was a third set close to where they presumably were and one way up in the northeast of Decennia. The placement for the Ring seemed very odd to Tuette. They weren’t equally distributed over the whole mass of the kingdom but only brought together three relatively close locations and one distant location. It would make sense that the missing pair in the Ring of Ten Minus Two would be somewhere in the northwest of Decennia, as that would mean it had purpose. But that section of the map was decently covered with tufts of fur, probably because Ed was silently hoping that the final pair would, at least, reveal itself to the aged man. But it hadn’t.


A brief frown played out but was instantly replaced when he clucked out a chuckle. “Ya see? You can get from here, close by, straight to the Islands.”


Dermy seemed dubious. “Straigh’ too? No’ on’ o’ dese other’n places?”


Ed smiled more broadly. “Well, that be the gamble. But if you go to the wrong place, just hop to the next Stone in the Ring and you’ll ‘ventually be in the right.”


“Seems simple enough,” said the king. Vest nodded and Tuette immediately thought of Terry outside. She excused herself to check on him.





*          ~          *          ~          *





His bruised or broken arm was caked in mud that had quickly dried under the sun. He was leaning against a post in the garden from which he had garnished the dirt and he flashed a weak smile when he saw her approach. It quickly vanished and he reverted to looking into the distance.


“What’s wrong?” asked Tuette, though she imagined she knew.


“Nothing, madam.”


She moved her head slightly, smiling and drawing his eyes towards hers. “Call me Tuette, please. And I think I know what’s wrong.” She tenderly touched the hand connected to his damaged arm. If it hurt, he didn’t show it. “You’re thinking that if something like an Artificial can take you over, what kind of weakness does that show?” She paused. “Yes?”


Terry looked down at where their hands met and he nodded once. Tugging away slightly, he started talking, averting his gaze. “It’s just, I’m a Gousherall. Best of the best, up on the mountain and back in Fortright. And a fake dacking spirit got me to… well, it could’ve made me do anything, right?” She nodded, thinking back to Reefetta first and then to that poor messenger that Voidet had sent after her to formally inform her she had been Cursed. “And I just caved.”


“Hey, it’s not your fault. You’re not protected from that kind of thing. You may be a Gousherall but you’re still human.” She shook her head, looking at the simple garden. “The king should just have you guys shielded from that kind of stuff. Why doesn’t he?”


“There’s not many people who dole out Magik on the mountain. And even fewer up in the Isles.”


“But, still. You guys protect the kingdom’s leader. If any one of you can be taken by an Artificial, you could easily get rid of the king!” She thought of the implications behind that and was suddenly very curious in what happened to the previous king. And if he really had also suffered the same condition as Sylvester.


“There’s such a protection?” he asked, bringing her back to focus.


She nodded. “A Barrier or Block Charm. Usually used to protect ‘gainst Curses, because of their invasiveness. But also stops Artificial.”


“Could you make one?” he asked timidly. Tuette was reminded of a young child asking his mother to check under the bed for creatures. It made her want to laugh a little. She chose to smile instead.


“Not with any of my stuff now, no. But when this is all done, I can try.”


That brought out a smile on Terry and she felt a tingle at the base of her spine. Because she liked to think that she had brought it out. That made her feel good.


Standing and readjusting her hood, she was reminded again of her Curse as the large bundle of hair on her neck shifted beneath the thin fabric. “Why don’t you wear something besides that dingy hood?”


Flashing a smile, she began to walk away while playing with her hood’s drawstrings. “Because I’m making a fashion statement, silly.” She suddenly felt very aware of her backside and she wondered if he was watching her walk away.


“What kind of statement?” he called back, a smile heard on his breath.


Tuette didn’t turn completely to answer but shouted over her shoulder “The kind that makes you ask questions. And not about me.” She turned around completely, smiling because he had been watching her. “About your own sense of fashion.” Letting a genuine giggle escape, she completed her turn and entered Ed’s tolo.