Page 23 of The Half King
“Yes,” Daerick said. “Can the noble curses be undone?”
“Any curse can be undone,” the old man told him. “In one of two ways. The first is to end the life of the individual who cast it. I don’t recommend that for you. The goddess has proven herself difficult to kill.”
The younger man raised an eyebrow in agreement.
“Your other option,” the elder continued, “is to reverse the offense committed against the spell caster.”
“But he committed no wrong,” Cerise argued.
“The offenses of his ancestors, then,” the man said. “The solution for generational curses is the same as any other. You must appease the spell caster by reversing the injury that was done to them.”
Cerise tried to imagine reversing the Great Betrayal. She couldn’t picture such a thing. “Are you suggesting that we find the Petros Blade, lure the goddess down from the heavens, seduce her into taking mortal form, and then…unstab her?”
“Of course not,” the old man said. “The penance is different for each wrongdoing. You’ll have to discover this one for yourself. But I can tell you the reversal of blood spilled is almost always blood sacrificed.”
“Blood for blood,” Daerick mused. “But how? What would that look like?”
“I wish I knew,” the old man said.
The elder’s young companion extended a hand for payment. “Your question has been answered. Now honor your deal and go.”
Daerick didn’t argue. He tossed his pouch of coin to the large man and then escorted Cerise out of the room. The two of them left the den the same way they had entered it, saying nothing until they had climbed the steep clay steps that led out of the hovel and into the street.
Cerise squinted against the sunlight while her nose acclimated to the strong scents of the city. “I don’t feel like we learned much,” she told Daerick. “I hope that satchel was full of copper and not silver.”
“Oh, I paid him a fortune,” Daerick said, scratching the bean sprout beard on his chin. “And he earned every coin.”
“Do you really think so?”
Daerick began walking in a different direction than the route they had taken to get there. Cerise followed him, though not before casting a wistful glance over her shoulder. She had hoped to take the same route back to the palace so she could inspect the tiny winged creatures she had seen earlier in the market.
“I do,” Daerick answered. “He gave us three valuable bits of information for me to research. First, he told us how curses can be broken, and second, he told us that you’re an anomaly.”
Cerise didn’t appreciate being called an anomaly, but she couldn’t think of a more fitting label to replace it. “What’s the third?”
“The termumbra sangi,” he said. “I don’t know what it means, but I intend to find out. I think it will explain the soothsayer’s reaction to you.”
“The younger man’s, too,” Cerise added. “Did you see the way he looked at me?”
“Like a demon had sprung from your chest?” Daerick asked with a twitch of a grin. “Yes, I noticed. He didn’t hide his shock very well.”
Daerick quickened his pace and lengthened his stride, forcing Cerise to hasten her steps in an unladylike manner. She thought of asking him to slow down when they reached an open-air farmer’s market, but he seemed fueled by excitement and nervous energy. The prospect of breaking the curse had clearly given him a renewed sense of purpose, so she couldn’t bring herself to complain.
They made their way out of the city and returned to the royal grounds. When they reached the entrance to the palace, Daerick paused at the bottom step and faced Cerise like a proper gentleman.
“My lady.” He took her hand and bowed low, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for the pleasure of your company. I hate to leave you without an escort to dinner, but I want to do some research before we begin our emissary lessons tomorrow.”
“Of course,” she told him, grateful to hear that he had remembered his promise to teach her about her duties. She glanced at her freshly kissed knuckles and smiled. No one had ever kissed her hand before. She rather enjoyed it. The act made her feel older somehow. “I’ll see you in the morning, Lord Calatris.”
“Daerick,” he corrected.
“Only if you call me Cerise.”
“Happily,Cerise.” He climbed the stairs and paused before entering the foyer. “It’s still early in the day. I suggest you ask Father Padron for a tour of the archives.”
“What archives?”
“In the catacombs beneath the sanctuary. There’s a collection of relics and texts down there. I wouldn’t know exactly what the archives contain because laymen aren’t allowed inside the sanctuary.” He lifted a shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt to have a look around and see if you can find any useful lore to help us.”
