The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Six

My birds returned two hours later. They told me there was a village only a day's walk away, and they offered to accompany us there to prevent us from becoming lost. I relayed the message to the rest of my group, who believed it would be wise to agree to the idea.

We left immediately. Bran had had plenty of time to recuperate from the use of his powers, so, while he tripped over underbrush a bit more than the rest of us, he had little difficulty keeping up with the pace we set.

Fyra and Reed stayed silent as we walked, concentrating on putting one foot in front of another in a steady rhythm. Meanwhile, I was buzzing with happiness. My powers had worked. I'd used them—really used them!—to be useful to my group, my companions. My friends. For the first time, I felt as though I truly belonged.

By nightfall, we were all sore from walking. We stumbled into the village. Reed drew a few coins on his forearm, bringing them to life so we could pay for our rooms, and a thought occurred to me.

"If you can draw anything and bring it to life, why do we have to come here at all? Why couldn't you just draw better food?" I allowed a half-grin to grow on my face. "For that matter, why couldn't we sleep on feather beds and have a full banquet every night?"

Reed shook his head grimly. "It doesn't work that way. The things I draw last for a day before disappearing. My food is dangerous. We'd keep eating it and grow hungrier and hungrier all the while, until we starved to death."

"Oh," I said. "I see."

Lark said, softly, "It was a good idea."

I thought for a moment. "So you're saying that the money we pay with will have disappeared by tomorrow?"

"Yes," said Reed. He looked guiltily down at his hands. "I know it's not right... but it's all I can do. We should try not to spend too much of it. If we're lucky, the amount that goes missing will be small enough that no one notices."

"Hopefully, we'll be working for some of them," Lark pointed out. "We can do a bit extra for a bit less pay, if that makes you feel any better."

Reed shrugged. "Do whatever you think is right. I'll get over it."

After that, conversation ground to a halt, and one by one we went to sleep.

It turned out our windows all faced east. As the sun rose, bright rays spilled over the windowsills, hitting us in the face with warmth and light. I rose first, but the others quickly followed.

We gathered at a table in the main room of the inn. Reed offered to draw more coins so that we could have a proper breakfast, but after what he'd said the night before, no one wanted to take him up on the offer. Instead we chewed on jerky and stale bread. It wasn't good-tasting, or even satisfying—but at least it was food.

"So," said Lark once we'd all eaten our fill, "what's our plan of action? Do we want to ask after jobs together, or separately?"

"Separately," Bran said.

"I agree," said Reed. "We'll probably make more money separately than we would together, extra work or no."

I shook my head. "That's a bad idea. If these people are afraid of Blesseds the way people are back in our village—if they're likely to hurt us if they find out what we are—then we should stick together, so we can make a quick, collected escape, if necessary."

"Hmm." There was a new respect in the way Reed looked at me. "That's a good point. Lark?"

"I'm with Fyra."

"Me too," said Bran. "As much as I hate to say it, she's right."

I stuck out my tongue at him.

"What?" he asked. "I'm agreeing with you!"

"Anyway," Reed said. "Are we done eating? Do we want to start job-searching?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"We could start with the innkeeper," Bran suggested. "Since the inn is also a tavern, he probably hears a lot of the local news through his customers."

"I'll go ask," said Lark. She stood up and walked over to the bar, sitting down on one of the short wooden stools. After a moment, during which her soft voice became louder and she frantically shook her head at the innkeeper, she returned to us.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

She nodded, slumping down in her seat as if defeated. "They know we're Blessed."

"Oh," said Reed. "And?"

"They want us to do something for them." She traced a deep scratch in the surface of the table, then looked up, meeting our gazes. "They're willing to pay us, at least."

"What do they want us to do?" Bran asked.

"I don't know. The innkeeper said the town elders would be here soon to explain. He-" She hesitated for a moment, and I saw a flash of fear in her eyes. "He said he had orders to keep us here by force, if necessary."

"How did they find out we're Blesseds?" Bran asked.

"I don't know."

I glanced at the innkeeper, suddenly uncomfortable with the way his eyes were fixed upon us. "How much are they going to pay us?"

"I don't know."

"We could run for it," said Reed. "The innkeeper isn't that big. We could take him easily, especially if I drew something big to help us. Or maybe Lark could paralyze him with her violin."

Lark said, in a very gentle, very quiet voice, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Okay," said Reed. "Then I'll do it."

Bran leaned forward. "I can help. Maybe I can give you energy, help you make something big enough to-"

"No!" I said. "We can't go around hurting people just because we're afraid of them!"

Lark gave me a grateful look. "I agree. I'm scared too, but I think we should at least hear them out."

"And if it goes wrong?" Bran asked. "If they treat us the same way our village treated us and kick us out of the town? Or worse, if they try to hurt, or kill, or imprison us?"

"We run," I said. "We protect each other. And—if necessary—we fight."

Want some of Reed's magic, disappearing coins? If you vote for this chapter, you can have as many as you want! (However, sadly, I am running low, and will only be able to give you the ones that have already disappeared.)