A Touch of Death

Chapter 30

"I understand we're technically here for the proceedings, but isn't that just a pretense?" Aoife hissed as they walked down the hallway in formal red attire.

Aoife wasn't sure if there should be guards along the inner castle hallways, but there certainly were not. It was silent as the grave besides the sounds of their muffled footsteps on the carpet runner, the shadows slightly illuminated by rows of lamps in sconces.

They were on the way to a formal dinner, but Aoife was losing her patience for the wining and dining involved in the colloquy. Only senior Enchanters were invited to what seemed to be the more crucial meetings or voting processes, and that left her out in the hallways waiting on Tarran to finish his business, occasionally watching the potted plants wither beside her and seeing how long it took for any other nearby apprentices to scuttle far, far away.

"A pretense for access to the castle library? In a sense, yes," he whispered back. "We're also here to observe the other Enchanters and to make sure they know you are a threat."

"Why do I matter?" she scoffed. The only thing she wanted out of this entire situation was the ability to control her powers. She was making progress, true, but until she could figure out how to bring plants she'd drained back to life... Well, her goal wasn't complete yet.

At least she could touch people. She was enthralled by the sheer action of holding Tarran's hand, so much so that she refused to let go when they were in private. She was well aware it would look strange for an Enchanter and apprentice to hold hands as they walked down hallways, but

"If you're a threat, you're safe from them, at least temporarily."

"I need you to stop talking about yourself as though you're going to die."

"We all have to die," he said simply. "Besides, we only have three more days. I'll be fine until-" Tarran suddenly paused, wincing as he put a hand to his chest.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine. It's just the curse progressing."

"It causes you pain?"

"Occasionally. Not always. It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Why... Why did she curse you like this?" Aoife asked, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. "That is, I know why, but... It's cruel."

"She wanted me to suffer a fate worse than death," Tarran said with a sigh, continuing down the hall. "I can't say I blame her. She couldn't think of anything worse than binding me to a cursed house with invisible servants, doomed to spend my life alone, trying futilely to stop a death curse from overtaking the land before eventually, inevitably succumbing to the very madness that killed her husband."

"So she's the one who put the curse on the servants of the house, too."

"Indeed," Tarran said, nodding. "They used to be staff members when the castle was in full use. Now they're trapped... like me, but even worse."

"Why trap them, too?"

"I never understood why, myself. My best guess is that they were all human, and it was her first part of satisfying her thirst for revenge against any and all humans who dared to cross her. Those humans just happened to cross her by serving on my personal staff."

Tarran winced again, reaching out for Aoife's arm to steady himself.

"We need to get you out of here," Aoife hissed.

"That might be best," he admitted. "I'll go back to my room for now."

"No, I mean we need to get you back to the estate. I don't care about the proceedings if it means you're in pain." The curse was hurting him the longer he stayed away from the estate. It was advancing faster somehow, sapping his strength and making him suffer.