The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Fifty-One

Mam found Aunt Marla and me, and she bustled us out of the market as soon as she could.

"But Reed's hurt!" I protested, trying to pull out of the iron grip with which she held my wrist. "I need to see if he's okay!"

Firmly, Mam shook her head, not sparing me a glance. "You don't want to be mixed up in this. It could get ugly."

With a sudden, wrenching movement, I managed to pull my wrist free. "All the more reason for me to get involved. Reed's my friend, Mam, whether you like him or not. I'm not going to let anyone hurt him."

I turned to leave, but Mam's hand caught my shoulder. Her eyes met mine.

"No one is going to hurt him," she said. "At least, no one is going to hurt him yet. But people are going to talk. They're going to say terrible things—ugly things. There will be gossip. I don't want you involved."

"I want to be involved."

"No," she hissed, "you don't. You don't understand how ugly people can be. You're a Blessed—you're in just as much danger as any of your other friends. In fact, I'd advise you to stay clear of them, but as long as they don't use any other magic, they should be safe. For now. But I forbid you from seeing Reed."

"She's right," said Aunt Marla. I turned to look at her, something in me breaking when I saw that she was serious. "She's trying to protect you, Fyra. Trust us. There are better ways to get involved."

"Like not getting involved at all," interjected Mam.

Aunt Marla set a calming hand on her shoulder. "Like waiting until this mess calms down a little. This town is still recovering from the last mistake a Blessed made."

"You think it was a mistake for Reed to rescue that boy?" I asked, shaking my head angrily. "He probably saved his life!"

"He used a monster to do it."

"It wasn't a monster. It was just a creature. A new creature. Just because no one had seen it before—because no one knew what to do about it—doesn't mean that it's a monster."

"To the townspeople, it does. And they will turn that logic on you Blesseds, as well. They don't understand magic."

"You don't understand magic," I pointed out. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No," said Aunt Marla. "And neither is your Mam. But it wouldn't take much for the other people in this town to fear you." She sighed, a sad half-smile curling her lips as she reached up to gently cup my cheek. "All we're asking is that you lie low for a bit. Your friend will be all right."

"You don't know that."

"He's the son of the Head Man. No one is going to hurt him yet. And you're right. He did save that child. That's a point in his favor."

I sighed and nodded. "All right. I just..." Mam shot me a curious glance, and, nervously, I forced the words out. "I thought things would be different now. I thought Blesseds would be respected, or at least tolerated."

Mam shook her head. "As long as there is fear to be had, that is all that your kind will get from the townspeople."

"My kind?"

"You know what I mean. Blesseds."

"We're no different from you!"

She turned angrily toward me, eyes blazing. "I know, Fyra. I am aware. Do not forget who birthed you. Whether you're like us or not, you have magic flowing through your veins. You can do unnatural things. You're different. That's the only excuse anyone will ever need to be afraid of you. That doesn't mean it's right. It's just how things are."