The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Sixty-One

I waited with bated breath until the sunlight had slipped away and night had come. Mam sat by the fireplace, silently picking out knots in a length of thread.

She smiled at me as I made my way to the door. "Stay safe."

"I will," I promised.

As I stepped out into the darkness, a cold breeze flowed over my skin. For a moment, I simply stood there. Things were going to change. I wanted to freeze this moment so I could take it all in.

I knew I wasn't likely to ever come back here again. Once we'd escaped, it would be too dangerous. Still... I'd grown up here. This had been my home for as long as I could remember. Other than for the quest, I'd never been anywhere else—no one had.

And now I planned to leave it forever.

"Fyra?"

I looked up to see Lark and Bran in front of me, watching me.

"Are you all right?" Bran asked curiously.

I shook off the somber mood that had settled over me. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Lark said. "You can be honest with us, Fyra."

"I'm sure."

Bran grinned. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yeah," I said. "Let's do this."

The first part of the night's work was easy enough. We quickly made our way toward the town hall, where Lark fit a key Reed had given her into the lock of the front door. It opened with an easy click.

Inside, there was only darkness. There had been stars outside, and the barest sliver of a moon to light our path through the village, but now there was nothing. We all hesitated before stepping through the door.

Once we were inside, Bran swung the door closed, completing the muffling darkness we stood in. Lark reached out and took both our hands. While we'd been making this plan, she'd claimed to know the town hall well enough to be able to guide us through it without sight. Hopefully, she'd been right.

Carefully, surely, she walked forward. Her footsteps seemed loud. I wondered whether it was because of the all-encompassing quiet within the building, or because my hearing had increased to compensate for my lack of sight—or maybe it was a result of both combined. Either way, it unnerved me.

Lark stopped in her tracks and turned rightward, releasing my hand to reach out and pull a door open. Here was where it would get tricky. We had no particular idea where the Head Man had decided to keep Lark's violin, but we'd hoped that it would be somewhere within his office, unless he'd moved it after Reed's attempt to steal it.

We stepped into the office. Behind us, Bran grabbed the doorknob and softly closed the door.

A moment later, a note rang out through the darkness, along with a penetrating aura of light. I could see the room. We'd met the Head Man here after we'd returned from our quest—before everything had become a mess. There stood the desk, and the group of chairs we'd sat in, and, to the left, a tall glass cabinet. That light radiated from within it.

Lark had been looking to the right, but now she turned to that cabinet. Her eyes lit up as she saw the violin inside, with a halo of light like a miniature sun. Swiftly, eagerly, she pulled the doors open and grabbed the instrument. She tuned it. The light intensified with each pluck of the strings. Pure bliss filled her expression. To my eyes, she seemed much more relaxed now that she had her violin back. Now that she'd be able to use her Blessing again. Now that she could protect herself.