The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 21: Moonrise over Vilais, Part 3

 The watchtower was cozier than any Ammas had seen. The fire damage was less extensive than innkeeper rumor made it out to be, restricted to a few gaps in the thatched roof and some blackening of the upper story. In Munazyr, the watchtowers between Kyrantine's Wall and Peddlers' Gate were manned until they were nothing but crumbling shells. Ammas grinned as he went about his work, thinking of what the Munazyri might have to say about Vilain decadence. 

Even with the minimal fire damage, the tower was perfect for his purposes. The sole door was heavy oak and ironbound, the lock still in good working order (though it opened easily enough to his twinhooks). The stair to the second story was narrow and winding, easy enough for him to block should Carala truly run wild. And the stones were thick enough that her howls might be muted. That it was also defensible against an attack from outside was welcome, but something he tried not to think about just now.

Casimir was frowning in concentration across the table from him. The scraps of bark Ammas had provided him were a little too damp, and so the work of scribing Therkostic words on them with the skymetal dagger gifted to him by Doyenne Sulivar was even more difficult than it should have been. This was not totally unintentional: Ammas needed functional words of warding, and while he wanted to teach Casimir this fundamental skill, he also wanted an excuse not to use his product if it wasn't up to his requirements. Had they six weeks to prepare, he might have done differently. Still, that didn't stop him from feeling a trifle guilty at seeing the boy's mounting frustration as the tip of his dagger crumbled or even split the soft bark as he gamely went about engraving the words.

As Casimir set his blade to a new scrap of bark, Ammas laid down his own dagger and studied the boy thoughtfully. He had seemed in a better mood since they'd met again at the Hethraeum, and had thanked Ammas profusely upon returning to the Kettle Red and being given back his dagger. But Ammas thought he was still much too quiet. The Casimir he knew would have been overflowing with questions at a new lesson such as this, and perhaps about what would happen at moonrise as well. For the first time he had begun to wonder if it wasn't only Denisius with whom Othma might have held a private conversation.

"You know," Ammas said conversationally as he ran his thumb along the blade of his dagger, testing its edge, "I would have thought you'd be more curious about finally learning a curse from me."

Casimir looked up, startled. "Is that what this is?"

Ammas smiled. "It is indeed. When we're finished here, we'll go out into the preserve and hang these fragments on the trees at its edge. They won't cause any pain, but they should fill anyone who approaches the woods tonight with a sense of dread strong enough to convince them to go elsewhere. The deeper they try to go into the forest, the worse it will get, until they'll begin to imagine seeing things. Dangerous beasts and the like. I don't really expect many people tonight, but if Carala is going to be roaming in wolf shape it's the best way to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone."

"What about you?" Casimir frowned.

"Carala will not hurt me. Don't worry about that."

Casimir set down his blade and looked hard at Ammas. There was a scrutiny there he hadn't seen much, and, Ammas thought, a touch of buried anger as well. "Why are you so sure?"

Ammas met his apprentice's gaze evenly. For the first time since he had taken Casimir in, he saw mistrust in his eyes. "I think she has the wolf under control for now. Carala in her true self has come to see us all as her friends. You were able to help her keep the wolf at bay when we were attacked. She won't forget such kindnesses, even as a wolf."

Barthim had told him he ought to wait to talk to Ammas about Carala, but in the end Casimir followed his own heart on the matter. Ammas meant too much to him. "It's not because you're -- bonding her to you?"