Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Five

Zharinna was a southward ride from Mount Reign. Travelling through the wide fields of crops that were grown for the mountain at its base, one then moved through Fograin Forest and came upon the Freezer town. As such, the crown was always in view, a constant reminder that one singular person was supposed to be ruling this vast expanse of land and wealth.


She had never understood why a person was born into such a role, even with the knowledge well of past generations at your disposal. For Tuette, it had always felt wrong. Setting aside her reservations, she had no idea how travelling with the king might make her feel, or if she could “play nice,” as Fy’tay had put it. Watching the splint drawn carriage approach, she made a decision to make the trip work. The nation was in jeopardy, even though Tuette knew she was safe. A Cursed person could not Cursed twice.


“The king is coming,” was what Tuette heard most of the time. From the rooftops in Zharinna, his departure from the mountaintop was easy to see in the north: his carriage was lit accordingly, as if it were a sun setting as the true sun rose in the east. As it wound the path down the slope, she listened to the buzz of activity as everyone talked about the king. Feeling slightly abashed, Tuette did not know the man’s name. Not wanting to appear as if she cared – “I’d rather sit on snail-spine!” she said to herself at one point, in the privacy of her own quarters – Tuette strained her ears in an attempt to learn the monarch’s name and was pleased when she found out it was King Celester.


Upon finding out, she felt like judging the man’s parents for choosing such a blatant name as that. “Celester,” she said, again within the confines of her quarters as those walls somehow shared her contempt. “Celester, as if he is our celestial leader! King of the Heavens!” The name did not sit well with her.

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Tuette was trying to reserve judgment, but the king was making it difficult. Arriving from the mountain in a carriage the size of a small shack and plated in gold, she could not help but think that King Celester had no common sense. For the fortieth time, she wondered why she had been chosen for this particular mission. Then she remembered that she had technically volunteered, having been promised a new vial of her powerful Freezing Pote. Now she worried herself about labeling the endeavor a mission when it would most likely be over in a matter days.


She hated the idea of helping King Celester with the Reverse, though. She could not help but marvel at the coincidence either. That both she and he had to Freeze a flock of chickens, it was enough to make Tuette believe that the adversarial count was also her former mentor, Corunny Voidet. She did not voice the concern because it would have exposed her dire need for performing a Reverse.


The only people who worried about Reverses, she knew, were people who were Cursed. That was her own mentality before becoming a victim and Tuette was adamant about keeping the secret until it was irrelevant.


When she saw who was travelling within the carriage with the king, her hopes about keeping her Curse a secret were dashed. Dermitalus Tasciturn stepped from the gold-plated carriage. She was certain it to be him, except he had both arms. The Dermy she had known, had travelled and researched with, had lost a limb in a bloody battle with a gossher, a bear-like reptile indigenous to the west.


As he surveyed the small crowd that served as a welcoming party, his sights landed on Tuette. Though she was wearing the colors of a Freezer and her hood was close against her scalp, he recognized her. She smiled and nodded, knowing that ignoring him was not possible. Dermy was extraordinarily observant.


He ducked his head into the carriage for a moment before approaching her, no doubt to tell the crown to sit still. Men that Tuette identified as Gousherall Guards stepped out as Dermy moved toward her. Their thick black armor, no doubt stifling in direct sunlight and in warmer climates, was recognizable to anyone. They were of the same caliber of guardsmen that protected the regional tents, too.


“Madam Tuette,” Dermy said while extending his right arm. She eyed the appendage rather than taking it, as if he were offering it up for inspection when she knew he wanted a cordial handshake. After several seconds, he leaned forwards over his hand and whispered, “It’s a delfin. And it’s a secret.”


Tuette felt her eyes widen. Delfin were very rare prospects. It was said they could mimic anything through extensive training. Amorphous blobs not unlike tar from the Canvoan Pits, delfin had been used for centuries by Mages as replacement limbs. Their rarity led to Tuette’s own lack of substantial knowledge of the subject but she knew she would have plenty of time to ask Dermy about it in the near future.


The thought then struck her: Dermy, a man who was more farmer than mage, had a delfin, a rare species almost exclusive the Magik practitioners. She took it finally, shaking the delfin as if it were a hand. It certainly felt like a human hand. “It’s trained very well, Lord Tasciturn.”


“No, no, Tuette. Dermy is my name. Please, call my Dermy. And Dormaset has the best trainers in the world, I think.”


She nodded once, let his trained arm-pet go, and looked past him at the gold carriage. “That is some fancy hardware, Dermy. Count Roose will see you coming from a hundred miles away.”


His smile slight, Dermy replied, “We hope to resolve this matter without bloodshed.”


“So at the cost of some rare chickens, you’re going to let a malignant Curser roam free?” Tuette was aware of the plan; she was merely trying to discomfort the man.


Dermy’s smile finally disappeared. He looked around at the people nearby. Most of them were maintaining a distance, fear of the Gousheralls keeping them at bay. He leaned forward again, conspiratorially speaking. “According to the king, there have already been attempts on Count Roose’s life. Failures, all.”


Tuette was not surprised. “I believe it. A man who claims to be able to Curse an entire kingdom in one fell swoop? He’s not playing with puny powers, is he? Not like our king back there.”


Dermy looked into Tuette’s eyes for a second. “But I guess some of us don’t have to worry about such things as Curses, do we?” His eyes darted toward Tuette’s scalp and she felt the blood rush through her neck.


Her eyes narrowing, Tuette said, “Is that a threat of some kind? Because I am already willing to help.”


“For what price?”


“None of your damned business.”


“And, of course, there’s the Reverse.” Her heart skipped a beat. He remembered. “Now that can’t be a coincidence.”


“Perryta Fy’tay says his name is Count Roose and there’s not much else known as of yet.”


“So you don’t think it’s…” He looked around again and leaned even closer. “Voidet?” The word, whispered in her ear as it was, felt like it might deafen her.


She straightened up finally. “If I believed it was him, I’d lead the charge personally, if only to regain my Magikal standing. I would…” but the words would not come forth. Tuette knew that without knowing Corunny Voidet’s whereabouts, there was no point in plotting any kind of gruesome revenge. Hence her desire to simply perform her impossible Curse Reverse and be free.


Thinking about the Reverse again, and how much action was occurring on a grand scale, Tuette could not help but feel jealous for King Celester and all he commanded. Knowing that she felt jealous made her feel even worse, bordering on being sick. With will of force, Tuette, decided to change the subject. “Did you know I would be here?”


He shook his head. “I didn’t know, but someone knew, I think. We were told to start out journey here, in Zharinna. That we would find the means of Freezing here. I personally thought it was a little ‘on the nose’ but you’re here and you obviously have our Freezing Pote.”


“My Freezing Pote.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “That’s correct: mine. I fashioned it.”


“We both researched the materials for it.”


She began feeling defensive. “That we did, but then one of us was gone like a bolt and I was left to perform all of the rituals. Which wasn’t easy.”


“Oh, don’t feed me that. I know it was easy for you, Tuette. Magik, all of it, comes easy –”


“I used it.”


Dermy stopped and stared. “Used what?” he finally asked, though he seemed afraid.


“I used my Freezing Pote.” She did not say how or when. Tuette wanted to make him squirm. “I was in danger and I used it and it’s gone.” Dermy looked between Tuette and the gold wheelshack behind him. After several seconds of watching him panic, she said, “But Perryta Fy’tay gave me this one,” she said, drawing the thick vial from her inner robes. “And this is supposed to do the same thing as the one I made.”


“We made.”


“But I can’t test it, obviously.”


With color slowly seeping into his face, Dermy agreed with a nod. “Obviously.” Another second and then a forced smile. “But I am sure our monarch will be pleased no matter what.”


Tuette, tired of talking in circles, decided to reach a conclusion. “So you answer to the crown now, do you?”


“As do you, Tuette.”


She smoldered. “I answer to myself, Tasciturn.”


Nodding, Dermy said, “That’s true enough, but our king is at the beginning of something very important. Even our maperryta thinks so.”


She felt her eyes roll in an exaggerated fashion. “Oh, that’s rich. ‘Very important’. How vague and cryptic, Dermitalus. I guess your orders come straight from Dormaset’s ass as well, yes?”


He blinked, taken aback. “I can see that bitterness resides in your young heart.”


Gulping, she said, “You have no idea.” Looking around briefly, she grabbed the farmer by his delfin, leading him toward her quarters. Once inside, she gently shut the door and felt herself at the brink of tears. Sitting on the bench near the door, she felt her guard weaken. “You truly have no idea, Dermy.” She looked up into his eyes, seeing sorrow there. “In half a year, it will be half a decade that I’ve been Cursed. I think Perryta Fy’tay knows.” Alarm crossed the farmer’s face. “But she hasn’t said anything about it, or moved against me in any way. She’s actually made it possible to go with you. She says travelling will make me feel good.”


“And what do you think?”


She smiled, her lips tight over her teeth. “You always ask that, Dermy.”


“Because I am always curious about what others are thinking. I can’t harvest other people’s thoughts by will alone. It takes ‘honeyed words’, as the king puts it.”


Tuette chuckled once. “Honeyed words. And you’ve been working up there for three years now? How long have you been pouring honey into his ears?”


“Two days.”


Surprised, she said, “That’s interesting.”


“He was guided to me by the advisors.”


“Pfft. The Advisory Council. If ever there was a group of people that needed to be Spelled into oblivion.”


Dermy sat down next to Tuette and held her hands. “Part of this quest is to insure that the king finds what he needs.”


She looked at Dermy. “What does that mean? He needs ‘kens. And we both know that they’re nearly impossible to find in the wild these days. And any Mage that owns a few will not willingly give them up.” Tuette knew this. The Magik abilities unlocked by simple chicken eggs made the species a rarity in Decennia. Clans throughout the land and even Cafeglian Dormaset himself were rumored to sport private coops of ‘kens and they were willing to kill or be killed for the birds and their costly eggs.


“I know what he physically needs, but I am also talking about character traits that only a journey like this can incubate.”


“You’re trying to make him respectable.”


Dermy sighed. “I am trying to help him become this kingdom’s effectual leader. There is something on the horizon, I fear.”


“Something,” she repeated, unable to say it without sarcastic undertones.


With a grim nod, Dermy said, “Yes, something. I don’t know what, or when, but having the king prepared for it is best sooner rather than later.”


Tuette nodded, thinking about the kinds of connections Dermy must have made since coming under the employ of King Celester. She looked again at his delfin and marveled at its ability to mimic a human appendage. Knowing the creatures were controversial, Tuette was still impressed after seeing one in person.

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Tuette allowed herself to be led back toward King Celester. It was time for introductions. When she arrived, he was smiling like a goofy oaf at Perryta Fy’tay. She turned, her face nothing but a smile and eyes, and she gestured toward Tuette. “This is the Freezer that will be accompanying you, milord.”


King Celester did not look in Tuette’s direction. He continued to stare at Fy’tay at his arm, ogling. It was an odd sight to behold since he was certainly half her age. Fy’tay, having felt ignored, looked to the king and nodded towards Dermy and Tuette. Finally turning, his green eyes dimmed slightly and his bearded smile softened. She did not like being thought of as a Freezer, but she did not mind it as much as having to bow to this monarch’s whims. The king stepped forward at Fy’tay’s gentle prodding, held out his hand and said, “Good day, Madam Tuette. I am –”


“I know, sire. Everyone knows.” With an edge in her voice, Tuette spoke, thinking about Dermy’s words and how the king needed to develop some desirable qualities. She was going to help him learn about dealing with confrontational women. It was her specialty. “I am Tuette and I have the Freezing Pote primed for Freezing. Now we just need to find some ‘kens.”


Celester stared blankly, as did Fy’tay, Dermy, and the guards. Feeling her face suddenly warm with embarrassment, she began feeling apologetic when the king stepped away from Fy’tay, grabbed Tuette’s hand, and said, “That is most refreshing. I am pleased to learn that not everyone we meet will paw around me as if I’m a gossher in a den of rats.” Tuette exchanged the briefest of glances with Dermy when the king mentioned the dread gossher but the moment quickly changed so that she started to feel good about her manner of speaking with the crown. “And it’s invigorating to know that even someone with your physical qualities has the gall to address royalty that way. Truly, it is, Madam Tuette.”


With that comment, Tuette felt her heart skip two beats. She wanted to ask the Virgin King what he meant by that but both Dermy and Fy’tay began shouting at servants and guards so that the troupe might be on its way. And possibly, so Tuette assumed, to stunt the Cursed sorceress’s desire to throttle King Celester.