Page 40 of Lake of Sorrow
“When I was a boy and said exactly that, my father told me that it was good that only our family had been cursed instead of the entire populace. As horrible as it’s been, especially since beasts throughout the years have killed innocent people, it could have been worse. Imagine if a population of, oh, at least thirty or forty thousand lived in the capital back then, had all been cursed with this. They not only would have killed each other, but the beasts might have spread throughout the kingdom. It could have been the end of all humanity.”
“If the druids had the power to curse that many, they probably would have done it, since they supposedly hate humans. You got a shitty deal.”
Vlerion opened his eyes and managed a smile. “I think you would have been more sympathetic to my tantrums than my father was.”
“I’m sympathetic to you because…” Kaylina hacked several more times at the vine while groping for words to finish that sentence. “You’ve saved my life, and you’ve been supportive of me, more than you should have, considering all the trouble that keeps finding me.”
“The trouble finding you also isn’t fair.”
“Oh, I know that.”
Hack, hack, hack.
Kaylina stepped back, needing to catch her breath. She was halfway through the thinner vine, so maybe there was hope, but more than a dozen others secured Vlerion. It was hard not to feel daunted.
“What did you say that caused the flowers—they were making the noise, right?—to stop screeching like stuck pigs?” he asked.
“I’ve never heard of screaming flowers before, but I’m positive they were responsible for the noise. And… I don’t know that I had anything to do with them stopping.”
“You said something.”
“I said a lot of things. I was cursing.”
“The last word was something like shyrecka.”
“Sywretha,” she pulled from her memory.
“Yes. What language is that?”
“I have no idea. As far as I know, I made it up.”
Vlerion gazed thoughtfully at her. “Is your hand still… being weird?”
She’d forgotten all about it. “It’s neutral. I’m surprised it’s not objecting to me hacking at these vines. It seems tied to this place somehow.”
She supposed that made sense. If the plant in the castle had been placed by the druids—its job to monitor the curse or maybe even enact the curse?—it could be related to the trees, bushes, and flowers growing around their former home. They’d likely cultivated a lot of the plants here and surely all the altered ones.
“This place, as you call it, may not object to you at all.”
“Because of my inherent charisma and natural inclination to snark at rangers?”
“Because of whatever in your blood caused you to be born an anrokk.”
“I don’t think that was anything in my blood. I have the same blood as my brother, and Grandpa’s hounds never slept in his bed.”
“Do you?” Vlerion tilted his head, considering her from a new angle. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. I’m the middle kid of three. There’s Frayvar, me, and an older sister. And cousins. My whole family lives on the same island and works at the Spitting Gull. There aren’t any mysteries about our heritage.”
“You’re quite beautiful.”
Kaylina blinked at the random compliment. “Uh, thanks, but what’s your point? I’ll assume that, given your current situation, you’re not being moved to ardor.”
Before she could catch herself, she glanced down, the memory of Vlerion nearly naked in the barracks popping into her mind. She blushed and jerked her gaze away.
“I am not currently experiencing ardor, no.” He had to have noticed the glance but didn’t comment on it, though a hint of a smug smile did touch his face. “What I meant is your brother is gangly and homely. Awkward.”
“Boys are different.” Kaylina shrugged. It wasn’t as if she was the epitome of grace either.