Page 28 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches
Sebastian nodded. “My curse is atypical. It wasn’t written, so it can’t be broken by examining a text.
When I was searching for a cure, I realized my best chance was to find a panacea, so I connected with Elias because I heard he was trying to get one from the magic vein in the Pinwhistle Forest. He told me that if I acted as his research assistant, he would give me a panacea to break it once he unlocked the vein’s secrets.
It was good too because it meant I was staying at his camp in the woods.
That meant I could still send my sisters my earnings to take care of things while keeping them safe… from myself.”
“But you left Elias,” Kieran pointed out. “How will you get a panacea now?”
A silence spread out before them, and as soon as Kieran said the words, he saw Sebastian tense. He had to study him for a moment before it occurred to him what the answer to his question was.
“Oh.” Kieran’s eyebrows shot up. “Sebastian, listen, this whole scepter thing is already a long shot. Obviously, it’s not going to stop me from trying, but if I do get that panacea—”
“You want to use it on Ash,” Sebastian finished. He stared off to the side, refusing to meet Kieran’s eyes. “I know. If you get the panacea, you’re the only one who can decide what to do with it. I swear I won’t do anything to jeopardize your plan. I owe you too much.”
Kieran bit his lip. On the one hand, he did feel obligated to fix his mistake with Ash.
But on the other hand, all Ash’s curse did was make Kieran invisible to him—Sebastian’s was completely, catastrophically life-altering.
Was it morally worse to let Sebastian suffer to keep his promise to Ash, or to leave Ash cursed in favor of helping someone he’d known for less than a month?
Ultimately, he knew it was something to consider, though perhaps after he actually got the panacea as to not put the cart before the horse.
Plus, even if Sebastian said he supported Kieran’s desire to save the potential panacea for Ash, he didn’t necessarily mean it.
Kieran wasn’t naive—even if Sebastian did consider himself indebted to Kieran, Kieran couldn’t help but feel a niggling something in the back of his mind.
If only there were something he could do to confirm whether or not Sebastian was being forthright with him.
Perhaps a spell, or maybe something he could look out for in his body language—
Something like a tell.
Kieran paused. Wait a minute. There was that thing back on the deck the other night when he got back from the pub with Lila. He had the red stain on the side of his mouth, and when I asked what he’d been doing with Lila, he did that little finger flutter. If I’m right…
“Can I ask you something?” When Sebastian nodded and waited for him to continue, Kieran asked, “The other night in Raven’s Roost when you got back late…that wasn’t wine on your lip, was it?”
Immediately, Sebastian’s shoulders tensed. He reached up toward his mouth, as if the red smear were still there, tattooed into his skin. Then he exhaled, gaze dropped.
“No point in hiding it now, I suppose.” He pushed his inky hair out of his eyes, letting it slide through his fingers. “No, it wasn’t. After you left, Lila invited me to join her behind the pub. I went with her and…”
He winced. “The curse gives me a lot of adaptations to work with. The extra eyes can see body heat, which makes it easier for me to find prey. And there’s venom in my saliva, so when I bite someone, I can use it to make it feel…
positive for whoever I’m drinking from. Lila didn’t realize I’d bitten her until I’d already had my fill and let her go.
But—I didn’t kill her, I swear. She just walked away a little woozy.
The venom makes the puncture wounds heal quickly, so by the time she went back inside, the only evidence was that blood on my lip. ”
Kieran watched Sebastian’s hands as he spoke. No finger flutter. So he had been lying the other night, but not now.
I knew it.
“I do keep to animals most of the time, though,” Sebastian said, seeing Kieran’s expression.
“I swear. It was just…after a few days up here with nothing but seabirds, I knew I needed something a little more substantial to make sure I was in control of myself for the next leg of the journey. Lila just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I—”
Kieran held up a hand to stop him. “As long as you didn’t hurt her, I can’t exactly blame you. Though, if I’m being honest, I’d feel a lot better if you promised to stick to animals while we’re traveling together.”
“Of course.” Sebastian nodded. “I can do that. We just might need to plan ahead a bit more with our stops.”
No movement from his hands. He’s telling the truth. Which probably means he was serious about respecting my wishes for the panacea if it comes to that.
“Okay. Good. I’m…glad we settled that.” Kieran nodded. “I’ll see if I can convince the others to let you out of here once we land. Thanks for telling me.”
Sebastian nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “Of course. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your curse.”
“It’s a pretty long story,” Kieran warned.
Sebastian gestured around. “Not much else to do in here other than whittle more spoons.”
“Right. Good point.” Kieran took a breath. “Well, it all started when Briar and I were born…”
Kieran spent the next hour or so recounting the details of his curse to Sebastian.
He’d meant to keep it short, but as soon as he started, it was like he couldn’t stop.
He described how the curse had been placed on his family hundreds of years ago by the first witch who had married into the family only to discover her husband had been unfaithful and impregnated a village girl with twins.
She’d written the curse so that each generation, starting with her husband’s love children, a set of twins would be born, one twin doomed to die while the other slowly stole their sibling’s magic and became a monster.
His family, however, had chosen not to break it, as it had been come with a blessing as well: So long as the curse remained, the Pelumbra family would have supernatural luck that kept them wealthy and prosperous for generations.
Then he got into the specifics: how it had felt to watch himself wither away in the mirror, growing bonier and paler by the day.
He described how he’d been forbidden from using magic at home, forced to watch his cousins’ lessons before inevitably being caught and dragged away by his father.
He even shared the bit about Briar’s half of the curse, which Sebastian seemed to be heartened by—knowing he wasn’t the first person on the ship to deal with an involuntary monstrous change seemed to comfort him somewhat.
And finally, Kieran covered how Delilah had broken the curse when she admitted her feelings for Briar in the Pelumbra basement all those months ago, bringing the twins back from the brink.
The whole time, Sebastian had listened with an empathetic ear. In a strange way, Kieran found telling his story cathartic. He didn’t talk about the curse much, and it felt good to get it off his chest with Sebastian.
“Is that why you don’t use magic often?” Sebastian asked. “Because you were never trained?”
Kieran swallowed thickly, then nodded. “It’s…
almost like not knowing how to read. Everyone around me learned to do it so early that it’s become second nature to them.
The fact that I struggle just to summon magic at all makes me feel…
inadequate. Like it’s too late and I’ll never be able to catch up. ”
Sebastian considered this. Ever so gently, he touched Kieran’s arm, making him snap to attention. Sebastian offered him a quarter smile.
“I think,” he offered, “you’re more capable than you think. You just have to give yourself the grace to get back up after you fall instead of getting stuck on tripping in the first place.”
“Maybe,” Kieran scoffed, “but it’s not like anyone’s there to help me stand up again, metaphorically speaking.”
“I would,” Sebastian said, “if you asked.”
Initially, Kieran dismissed the statement with a laugh, and the conversation soon turned to other things.
By the end, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Sebastian had said.
As the next few days passed and they approached the Mirrorveil Woods, Kieran found himself repeating it over and over in his head.
Magic had become something shameful to him—proof that he was a lesser witch than Delilah and his sister.
He’d felt embarrassed going to them for help, especially knowing that they pitied his lack of experience so strongly.
But perhaps Sebastian was right: He would never improve if he was too embarrassed to try.
And maybe what he really needed was help from someone else.
Each of the following nights, Kieran opened his journal and tried his hand at penning more spells.
Seaweed sat by his side, piping with excitement every time Kieran’s eyes and hands began to light up with the faint silvery glow of his magic.
It was helpful, in a way—it felt a bit like the spirit was doing her best to encourage him.
Poetry magic still seemed risky, whereas prose felt more straightforward.
With prose, Kieran didn’t have to be as worried about his magic misfiring due to overwrought phrasing or homophone slipup.