The secret curse, p.17
The Secret Curse, page 17
Koda gave me an appraising look. “You’re good at making your case, Jinni girl. Is this how you convinced the prince to marry you?”
I flushed angrily, pulling my shoulders back and lifting my chin. “You think whatever you want—”
“I meant no offense,” he interrupted, holding up both hands, giving me a crooked smile. “I just meant you make a good argument.”
“There are better ways to say it,” I mumbled, crossing my arms and avoiding his eyes. The insinuation bothered me more than usual, maybe because he knew about the rumors.
“Fine.” He changed the subject. “I’ll tell you what I know about the curse, but it’s not much.”
He reached across the space between us and took my hand.
I tensed.
All of my senses fixated on my tingling fingers.
“The Vaade marriages are very similar to human marriages,” he began, face solemn. “The two parties each bring a ring for the other.” He made a circle in my palm almost unconsciously. “And in the covenant, as you know, these rings are imbued with magic. When placed on a finger, the enchantment begins. But”—he spread out my fingers, placing them across his palm—“the reaction is different depending on which finger they’re placed on.”
I swallowed, trying to focus on his words instead of his warm hand beneath mine.
Koda touched my pointer finger. “Mind.” He moved to my middle finger. “Body.” And finally, he stroked my ring finger. “Soul.” He cleared his throat after a moment and pulled back, letting my hand fall to my knee. “When placed on a specific finger, the rings will pull those elements out. In weddings, we place rings on the soul finger because it draws out the souls and binds them together.”
I tried to breathe normally.
My hand still tingled.
“The covenant is designed to make a soul connection,” I whispered, recognizing bits and pieces of the spell’s design.
He hesitated, then softly touched my ring finger again. “A typical human marriage would only involve this one element. But the covenant requires vulnerability as proof before the rings will accept the spell.”
“Vulnerability?” I repeated stupidly.
“This finger,” he said, pointing to my middle finger. “Is connected to the body. It pulls out a different connection. In this case, our physical strengths and your Gifts.”
I glanced down at my fingers. “Where does the curse come into play?”
Koda’s hand moved to my first finger, barely grazing it. “This finger is connected to the mind.”
Mind, body, soul.
“The first finger triggers the curse?” I was afraid to hear his answer. It was so simple. Jinn didn’t wear wedding rings and had little to no understanding of human—or Vaade—customs. If they placed the ring on the first finger instead of the third, Shem would never see it coming.
Koda nodded.
As he sat back, head bowed, he murmured, “It acts slower. There are thousands upon thousands more memories to erase than there are abilities. But after a day... maybe two, everything surrounding Jinni magic—including any knowledge of it—will be erased.”
“Everything?” I imagined forgetting I was a Jinni... What I could do... My entire world would be turned upside down. Again.
“Like I told you,” Koda said finally, sounding resigned. “We can’t stop this ‘curse’ as you call it, because the spell is built into the rings. My father will present it as a necessary part of the covenant.”
I didn’t know how to argue.
He was right.
We’d lose our Gifts and never know what we were missing. The Vaade would overpower the Jinn without a fight.
Silence fell over us.
I laid down eventually, hoping fresh ideas would come to me after some rest.
Koda blew out the lantern.
His breaths evened out almost immediately.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said.
Stopping the curse was impossible.
Rolling over for the thousandth time, half-dreaming about the Dragon shackling Shem with this curse, my body tensed as if the curse was already happening and settling onto my own body.
A heavy arm landed across my upper body, startling me fully awake.
Koda mumbled behind me, “Go to sleep.”
“I was asleep,” I complained, trying to roll out from under his grip.
He held me tighter, which naturally dragged our bodies closer.
I froze.
Warm breath blew softly on my neck.
Shivering, I felt more awake than ever.
“Go... to... sleep...” he slurred again, as if he could feel my tension.
Despite our conversation, the weight of his arm across mine and the rise and fall of his chest behind me was oddly soothing. I wanted to both push him away and scoot closer, which drew out confusing feelings. Having this new all-consuming focus helped me finally stop thinking about all my other concerns, which then lulled me slowly and unexpectedly to sleep.
The last thought I had was that when I escaped—hopefully soon now that I’d finally unraveled the secrets of the covenant curse—I had perfect evidence to stop Shem from agreeing to the false truce. On top of that, we could use my knowledge of Koda and his father being on the edge of a potential civil war to our advantage. I drifted off with a confusing sense of regret at the thought of betraying Koda.
20
TEHYA’S GROUCHY MUTTERING IN the open door of the smokehouse woke me. Beside me was an empty fur blanket. Koda must’ve slipped out while I slept.
My disappointment irritated me. I scowled at Tehya as I exited the smokehouse.
“Sit,” she said without bothering to greet me, gesturing toward a nearby log. “Koda wants me to check your bandages.”
“They’re fine.” I brushed off her concern. Most of my scrapes were healing well, and the wound on my shoulder only throbbed dully. Honestly, the yellowroot seemed to speed the healing. I could ignore the occasional aches.
She smacked the back of my head.
“Ow!” I yelped. “What was that for?”
“It’s like you don’t even know how to be a prisoner,” she mocked me, rolling her eyes and giving me a push toward the log. “Go. You’re not a princess here.”
“I’m not a princess anywhere,” I muttered, but I did what I was told. “You’re going to be the new princess, remember?”
Tehya glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. “That could still change.” Her tone was flat and uninterested but her eyes latched onto mine, saying more. She’s desperate enough to come to me for help.
“I don’t know how,” I replied as she slowly unraveled the bandage around my shoulder. But my eyes said, Tell me how? Turning away, I focused on the forest, as if I couldn’t care less about this conversation.
Just as casually, Tehya replied, “Our spies say the prince hasn’t officially broken off his engagement with you.”
“What?” I forgot about staring aimlessly at the woods, spinning to face her. Was she trying to secretly give me hope or antagonize me? Whatever her intentions, it accomplished a little of both.
She unwrapped my shoulder with a firm grip, and I hissed in pain. She wasn’t as gentle as Koda. “They haven’t even revealed that you’re gone,” she continued. “Probably to avoid humiliation.”
I winced at both the description and the way she rubbed that familiar yellow paste into the wound.
“My father thinks the prince is still hoping to get out of the covenant. It looks like the Jinn are keeping it hushed until they can’t anymore.”
“Oh, he’s definitely hoping to get out of it,” I replied scornfully, the way any Vaade would expect me to. Inwardly, though, I didn’t know how to process the news. Was it as straightforward as Tehya said? Or was there more to it?
While Tehya finished working on my arm and wrapped a new, clean bandage around it, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the scene.
Shem’s parents seated on the throne, looking down on their son as they demanded that he think of his people first and marry the Vaade girl for the sake of the truce. But Shem yelled back that he was already engaged to a girl he loved and wouldn’t abandon her.
“Done,” Tehya said, breaking me out of my trance. I sighed.
I’d never seen Shem yell at his parents. Or do something for himself over his people, come to think of it.
My plans hadn’t changed. Now that I finally understood the covenant, it was time to escape. And I no longer had the option to quietly bide my time, expecting Shem to swoop in and rescue me. Though I couldn’t fully shake that hope, a growing part of me wondered if he was trying to save me at all.
I brushed off my borrowed skirt as I stood, trying to brush away the painful thoughts. I’d saved myself before and I could do it again—I still had time. How many days had I been here? Three? Four? I was losing track. But Shem had negotiated for two weeks.
“How long before the wound will be healed enough to move it without pain?” I asked Tehya as she led the way toward the outdoor bonfire where we’d spent most of the previous day.
Narrowing her eyes at me, Tehya shook her head. “Not before the covenant, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I tried not to react, which ended up being a reaction of its own. These blunt discussions with the Vaade continued to throw me off balance.
“A little more than two weeks then?” I managed to say after a slightly too long pause.
“At least.”
I hoped she was exaggerating. I’d give it a few more days and then it’d have to be good enough. In the meantime, I’d prepare.
Groaning at my expression, though I could’ve sworn my face was blank, she veered sharply toward the longhouse closest to the fire. “Here.” She waved for me to join her, putting her arm above her head as she leaned into the wall. “If you’re determined to use it sooner, here are some stretches that will help.”
I winced as I imitated her, but held the stretch, memorizing it and all the others she showed me after that.
At meals I could start to slip food into the deep pockets of my borrowed dress—nothing too perishable at first. Dried meat mostly, though I planned to start supplementing with bread and fruit. Though the bread might dry out and fruit could go bad, hopefully they both might still be edible if it took me a few days of searching to find the daleth on the other side of the mountains.
When we entered the longhouse for breakfast and I spotted Koda by the fire, I flushed, focusing on other Vaade to avoid thinking about how I’d accidentally ended up nestling into him while sleeping.
He could’ve teased me, but he didn’t. After we ate, he offered to take me hunting. As we left camp for the first time in days, taking a beaten path to the stream to fill the waterskins, I caught a flash of something almost white through the trees. It was too high to be a deer, too dark to be a cloud. “What’s that?”
“Nothing important.” Koda didn’t stop moving.
I veered off the path, heading directly toward the movement. It was definitely fur... multiple furs even? In the air?
Voices came from the clearing ahead, drawing me on.
“What’re you doing?” Koda hissed in my ear, as he caught up to me.
“You’re hiding something.” I slowed a bit as we drew close, lowering my voice as I challenged him, “I thought you said only the foolish Jinni kept secrets?”
“It’s... not a secret,” he ground out, but pulled me back before I could step into the clearing. Obviously, it was. The Vaade were calling loudly to each other as they set up... tents?
A dozen or so Vaade were constructing three tents out of furs sewn together, one much larger than the others. “Are more Vaade coming?” I whispered. Thankfully the Vaade were too loud to notice us. “Why aren’t you setting them up in camp?”
“It’s for your people,” Koda said on a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.
I raised a brow.
“For the covenant,” he added reluctantly.
That immediately ruined my mood. “They’re planning to come here?”
“They don’t want to, but my father is making it a requirement.”
“They’re still in negotiations?” I supposed that was good, but it was an uncomfortable reminder that I needed to make my escape, sooner rather than later.
“They are.” Koda shrugged. “But the Dragon always gets what he wants.”
I snorted.
When he tugged at my arm again, I let him pull me away, thankful for the distraction of the hunt.
We returned to the stream and continued along the path until Koda deemed us a suitable distance from the camp.
He shushed me for the tenth time not much later. “Your stomping around is scaring away the game.”
Rolling my eyes, I shifted into a cat, padding along on soft, silent footpads.
He grinned and shook his head.
A soft purr of contentment rumbled through me at the sense of freedom. Back home, even if Shem and I had been alone, I’d never have used my Gifts so casually.
Each day, though I kept an eye out for the Vaade who’d attacked me, they didn’t show their faces. Between Tehya and the broad daylight, I wasn’t terribly worried, but I paid attention just in case. When I asked Koda about it, he told me the Dragon kept them busy from sunup to sundown working on the tents and other preparations for the wedding.
I didn’t ask anything further.
After what felt like weeks working on my first basket—though, in reality, it’d only been a few days—I finally finished. The weave was loose in some places and tight in others, twisting the smooth sides into lumps, but I still admired it proudly.
“Can I try making a bag like yours?” I asked Tehya after I’d shown her my basket.
Sighing as if I’d asked for something unreasonable like being allowed to go home, she sat down to teach me nonetheless.
I’d use it to hold all the food I’d been saving.
One afternoon, someone left an empty waterskin unattended, and I pocketed it when Tehya wasn’t looking.
That night, I added it to my stash of food beneath the furs once Koda blew out the candle in the smokehouse and his breathing evened out.
The small knife was my best addition, though.
Late in the afternoon, the day before I planned to leave, Koda brought me inside the longhouse to get more yellowroot for my wound, but someone followed us in, calling his name. “Message for you,” the Vaade said, eyes darting between Koda and I. “Not for Jinni ears.”
I didn’t recognize him, but this had happened on and off all week.
Though I was curious, I rolled my eyes as if I couldn’t care less, moving toward the empty circle in the center of the room where the cookfire was banked.
“I’ll be right back,” Koda called to me, following the other man toward the door. Over his shoulder he added, “Don’t go anywhere.”
I heard the insinuation. If I tried to repeat my last escape, he’d be ready.
As if I’d be foolish enough to run when he was expecting it.
That didn’t stop me from snooping through the Vaade’s things while he was outside, however.
Some bunks only had blankets, while others held random items like clothing or furs. A knife caught my eye. Glancing around to make sure the longhouse was still empty, I snatched the small knife off the bed and stuffed it in my pocket.
“I saw that,” a high-pitched voice spoke from one of the beds.
I whirled around.
A little boy sat up in a bed, one row down.
“Saw what?” I said with a smile, peeking past him at the door. Koda would be back any second. Slowly, I strolled toward the boy.
He jumped up into a crouch on the bed.
He was going to run.
“It’s okay,” I attempted to soothe him with the full weight of my Gift, holding his gaze.
Hesitating, he was still just long enough for me to reach him and touch his arm.
“Don’t be afraid.” I held my smile and imagined my Gift pouring off me in waves, hoping his young mind was malleable enough to bend to my will. “You didn’t see anything, did you?”
His little forehead wrinkled. “I—” He blinked, then shook his head, blinking again.
The voices outside grew louder. Koda was about to come back.
“Tell me you saw nothing,” I pushed, hoping it was the right choice.
The familiar blank look spread across his face. “I saw nothing,” he repeated.
“Good,” I said as the door swung open, giving him another relieved smile. Softly, I added, “Go back to sleep.”
As he collected the yellowroot, Koda had me sit by the light of the cookfire to help me with my bandages. He nodded toward the little boy. “Making friends?”
I felt the weight of the knife in my pocket. “Something like that.”
When he pulled my bandages back, I distracted him by pretending it hurt.
I didn’t get a chance to hide the knife throughout the rest of the afternoon.
Sitting by the cozy evening cookfire inside the longhouse that night, with Vaade all around, I tried to ignore the hidden weapon in my pocket as they laughed and told stories, allowing me to be a part of it.
I joined in laughing in all the right places, but Koda gave me an odd look that told me he’d noticed my mood.
I shook my head when he raised a brow.
He wouldn’t understand.
It’d hit me, as I sat beside the fire soaking in the warmth and company, that this was the sense of home and family that I should’ve had growing up. What I’d always been missing, even if I’d never had a name for it before.
I thought of my chilly room back at the castle where I spent most nights alone.
Uncomfortable, I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the comparison.
I stood, silently gesturing to Tehya and Koda that I needed to stretch. Since Tehya had shown me the exercises to speed healing in my arm, I’d done them faithfully every morning, noon, and night.
