Page 8 of A Curse So Vile

BRENNA

The room was dark except for the small fire burning in the hearth, but Brenna had the eyes of a Dusklander and had no problem making out a small figure in the bed.

The air smelt pungent and overwhelmingly of sickness. Perhaps the witch was ancient. Or maybe her magic takes a toll on her health.

She approached the bed and stared down at the still figure.

Is she sleeping?she wondered. The witch looked thin as a wisp in the middle of a tangle of blankets.

“We’ve been at our wit’s end ever since the curse was cast,” Cole said. “My mother died of heartbreak. I fear she won’t last past the season, or even a couple of days, if I’m to be honest. You are our last hope.”

Dread coiled in Brenna’s gut like a snake. “What are you talking about?”

“Her curse. The ‘wasting.’ It’s been almost three years. It’s a miracle she’s lasted this long.”

Brenna looked closer and saw that the figure was a child.

Cold rage poured through her veins.

“You mean to tell me your sister is cursed and you expect me to break it?” she shouted.

Cole’s eyes grew wide, his mouth gaped.

“You took me out here to lift a fucking wasting curse?”

“If it’s coin you’re worried about, Dorthea has several wares from Gryndar—all very valuable,” he said, glaring at her.

The heat of the cabin was suffocating. She could hardly think straight. “I don’t care about your damned wares. Your sister is supposed to be a witch.”

Dorthea burst through the door, pointing at Brenna with her staff. “Get out!”

“Me? Get out? Like I’ve done something wrong. You lured me here! I spent half my life looking for this place, only for you to show me a damned child on her deathbed.”

“Where did you find this vile woman?” Dorthea glared at Cole.

“At the dock,” Cole said. “I did just as the witch said to.”

“Witch?” Brenna said, seething. “What witch?”

“Outside, now!” Dorthea commanded.

Brenna walked past Dorthea, out the door. Furious, she took the old woman’s chair and threw it as hard as she could into the forest, farther than any normal person could.

The black shroud of despair she had cast aside ever so briefly threatened to overwhelm her again. She'd been so close to relief.

If I’m to succumb to this damned curse, can’t my last few days be in peace?she asked herself. I guess I won’t be suffering too much longer.

“Do you feel better now?” Dorthea asked calmly.

“Better?” Brenna approached the woman, hands clenched into fists. “How am I supposed to feel better? Your friend tricked me into coming all the way out here, for—shit. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even know why you brought me here.”

“Cole didn't trick you.”

Dorthea was tall, striking in some regards. She had warm honey-brown eyes and an orange shawl that draped over the upper half of her body. Gryndari were a rarity seen this far north. They hailed from lands across the sea and weren’t used to the poison of Dreyléon, so they had not developed a tolerance for it.

“Why then? Why would he think I could break a curse?”

“You’ll have to ask him that.”