Curselock

Chapter 158: Lords

The Lord of Portals’ domain reminded Leland of his father’s study. Shelves of books, hundreds, if not thousands, of rolled scrolls holding bizarre or experimental runes, enough ink to fill a bath… Yet, his father didn’t decorate his walls with portals of other lands, remote viewings of nature, and life beyond the mortal plane.

Portals, literally, into other lives hung like portrait frames, some horizontal, others vertical. Storming oceans to a tree made entirely of roses, the Lord of Portals didn’t skimp on choosing his art. Even the ceiling was a portal, this one spanning the whole of the study. It opened to a patient night sky, one illuminated purely by the stars residing in the heavens.

Leland couldn’t restrain his gawking by the time the presiding Lord entered.

With a flare of magic, a single shred of sapphire appeared, cutting a hole in reality as smoothly as a grind wheel against greased steel. As the Lord of Portals stepped through the construct, Leland briefly viewed the land beyond as a decrepit forest fit with spindly trees and a moon spotlight.

“Aw, Calamity’s Spawn,” the Lord spat, making no attempt to hide his annoyance.

The Lord, wrinkled and gray, held a level stare, both his eyes blazing with sapphire magic. Blind, no doubt, but housing enough mana to fuel a siege cannon several times over. Two small portals hung just past his black and silver robes, each filled with mirrored images of Leland. In his hands he clutched a small letter written on mundane paper like a common mortal.

The man held a sickening expression, like a knight whose honor had just been stricken down by a sly commander. Regathering it would take time, which the Lord perceived to be Leland’s fault, despite just meeting.

“Before you grovel at my feet, bribe me, or attempt to plead, I’ll have you know, I do not care about mortal lives whatsoever. And, you, just by virtue of being here, make me sick,” the Portal Lord snarled, his voice echoing like a cat’s hiss.

Leland lurched, canceling his kneeling motion. Before he could speak, the Lord continued.

“Now, the Calamity has asked a favor, which is most unusual and highly irregular. After the favor, you will leave, never to return.”

A brisk pressure rained down, brushing past Leland, making him squirm. “I understand,” he said, knowing that an argument wouldn’t end well. In fact, it had the potential to be catastrophic.

A scoff escaped the Lord’s lips as he uncrumpled the letter wrinkled by his tight grip. With a harsh jerk, he ripped the paper from the envelope, yanking it before the two portals just beyond his shoulder.

“’Leland, Sybil’s soul issue is a larger issue than you know. She must be returned to her mother before the power of the Boneforged Monarch is able to twist her into something new. I do not have an approximation for how long that might take, but I suspect it to be two months at most. Any ‘glowing,’ as you call it, will speed-up the timetable. Contracts to move across the world was a wise thought. This will be the last time you hear from me for a while, except communication via your tattoo. Well done with the Harbinger, the Undying Lord still rots away in his cage.”

The Lord of Portals then opened a portal that blazed with the heat of a volcano. “Signed, the Lord of Curses,” he finished.

Leland went to ask a question, but the old man already sent him back into the Void. Floating there, against a backdrop of impossibly fast movement, his thoughts plagued his mind. He had seen first hand against the Toy Maker’s Harbinger what a Lord’s soul could do to a mortal body. Why Sybil’s body wasn’t burning apart from the inside, he didn’t know.

He had guesses, of course, but at the end of the day, they didn’t matter. Sybil had to be returned to her mother, a simple solution only halted by distance.

Just how far away was the Palemarrow Kingdom? Leland did some calculations. The Archon Valley was, well, half the world away. Past the Hyde Desert, across the Revolting Sea, through the Grumpy Delta, along the border of the Neverglade Empire and their war with the Nine Yarn Beasts. At some point they’d need to pass through Triturate and the Garden Arch… also Griffin Watch, the Lying Tower, Vin City, the Lame Sea, the Excited Sea, and the Burnt Lands…

And those were just the famous places. Leland couldn’t even fathom how many nameless towns and villages they’d visit.

By the time he appeared back at camp, his calculations amounted to too far for two months.

So Leland sat, bunched in a blanket while a crackling fire blazed beside him. He glanced at Isobel, finding her looking back at him. She raised an eyebrow, to which he shook his head. She then went back to watching the woods.

Sybil was asleep, so he’d bring up the two month issue in the morning. In the meantime, Leland spoke, “Lord of Teleportation, I humbly wish to create a contract with you.”

“Sorry we were not able to come to an accord,” the Lord of Teleportation said to Leland. “Mortal wealth is such a fickle contract to someone such as I.”

Leland slowly nodded, hiding his irritation the best he could. For a spell that could take him and the others home, the Lord of Teleportation wanted the world. Teleportation magic was rare, and the Lord knew that very well.

Magical items were the Lord’s currency, the rarer or more obscure, the better. And while Leland had a few items to his name, he’d need a thousand copies of them to make a dent in what the Lord was asking. Even when Lodestar was brought to the negotiations, the Teleporting Lord was far from the table.

“I-I understand,” Leland said, defeated. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

A few minutes later, he was back laying beside the fire. He sighed, glancing at a still sleeping Sybil.

“Lord of Space, I humbly wish to create a contract with you.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any spells that could aid me?” Leland asked the Lord.

“Not as such,” the Lord of Space answered. “Nothing of the magnitude you are searching for.”

Leland didn’t let his disappointment show. “What about something smaller? Something with combat potential maybe?”

The lord nodded, her hair that seemed to be everywhere following her head’s movement like a snake’s tail. “Perhaps something to ward projectiles?”

“Like what? Bending the space around me to redirect projectiles through me?”

“Yes, exactly like that. You know, they said you were a smart one. I’m glad to know that is the case, young Calamity.”

Leland didn’t know about that. Space magic was rather narrow in scope compared to other magics, especially defensively. But that was with— Wait.

“’They?’” he asked.

“The other Lords you have communicated with,” the Lord of Space mused. “Gossip travels fast in the realm of the divine.”

Leland gave a soft smile back. “Thank you. I only wish I could use my brain to help my friends get home.”

“Oh yes. Perhaps try the Lord of Gateways or the Lord of Pathways? The twins always compete with each other, maybe one will take helping you as a great victory.”

“Lord of Pathways… I may have interfered with one of their Legacy’s plans…”

“Yes, but a Witch’s plan. We Lords, mostly, do not condone the actions of Witches. Why do you think we brand them? We don’t do it out of glee.”

Leland suddenly felt dumb. Of course that was the case. Maybe he wasn’t the smart one. “Thank you for the advice. What would you like in return for the projectile spell?”

The Lord of Space moved her hand, stretching the space around impossibly far. She pulled back, bringing the side of a stone brick castle with her.

Leland did not let his shock show. Such was the power of a Lord, moving castles on a whim was normal… right?

“I ask you to inform the mortals that rule this outpost of the temporal wormhole birthing in their basement and that they better close it before it swallows the planet.”

Leland scratched his head, his eyes scanning up trying to find the top of the “outpost.” It stretched high into the sky, ending with a set of chiseled battlements mounted with cannons and ballista. And while he now agreed it wasn’t a castle, “outpost” still was a bit off. Fortress was more like it.

“And where is this outpost?” he asked.

“A convenient location. This is the Archon Citadel just outside of the Archon Valley manned by the Graverend Army. As luck would have it, you are currently on route to visit within the month at your current pace!”

Leland found himself squinting. “So I would just enter and tell them of their basement?”

“You don’t even have to enter,” the Lord of Space said. “Just yell at the soldiers manning the front wall when you travel by.”

“And how long will they have to fix the wormhole?”

“Oh, two centuries give or take.”

“Right… I will tell them, thank you for the contract, Lord of Space.”

She smiled back at him. “Well met, Calamity’s Child. I wish you luck with the twins.”

“Ooo the usurper enters our domain, brother!” the Lord of Gateways giggled.

“’Usurper?’” the Lord of Pathways cried. “Nonsense! This lad fought gallantly against a Witch! He should be praised! A feast!”

The Lord clapped his hands, summoning a grand table and countless dishes. The smell of pure euphoria wafted through the Lords’ home, highlighting the regal decorations and tapestry. A wave of magic then pulsed from Pathways’ finger, moving Leland to a seat at the head of the table.

Gateway sat slouched forward with her elbows on the tablecloth, her chin resting against her hands. She smiled beautifully at the young Warlock, her eyes like two miniature doorways into new and extreme worlds.

Meanwhile, Pathway poured himself and Leland wine from a great gourd. The pour was lazy, spilling more than he got in the cups, but that didn’t matter to the Lord. His magic fluttered around the table, maneuvering past plates of charred corn on the cob and around suckling pig roasted until crisp, moving the spilled drink’s path into the cups before it stained the linen.

The Lord of Gateways hummed, “I’m not so sure, brother. Just look at him! How could someone of his… bulk defeat one of yours. Even if she is a Witch, you always choose the best for your Legacy… well, second best behind me.”

Leland flinched away when the Lord stared at his puny muscles peeking from his torn shirt. He hadn’t realized it, but after fighting in the Archon Valley nearly nonstop, his clothing had suffered. He held back a puckered face when he realized he’d met three Lords in this very shirt. His mother would kill him if she knew of his horrid wardrobe.

“Sister, we’ve talked about this. I am first, you are second,” the Pathway Lord said, a slab of beef suddenly appearing on his plate.

She rolled her eyes. “Last I remember, Jadyn Lars defeated that little challenge we set up for him, making me in the lead for first and you sulking like a little baby. Remember? You nearly cried when Sara Colby failed and lost three fingers!”

“That challenge was rigged and you know it!” Pathway sneered.

“Perhaps,” Gateway chuckled. “But such is the game we play. Always so honorable, you. When are you going to learn?”

“If I haven’t learned that in the last millennium, then I won’t start now!”

“You say that like it’s a good thing, when it most definitely is not.”

Leland wished he could sink into the fold of his chair and disappear, but he had a goal. If listening to siblings bicker was the price, then so be it. Luckily there was food at least. But, as fate would have it, before he could reach out and take a smoked turkey leg, the Lord of Pathways brought him into the conversation.

“Well, the usurper here will be the next challenge!” he slammed his mug onto the table, sending wine everywhere. Yet all reappeared in the cup a moment later.

“Yes, yes. But brother, I don’t see why you challenge me at all. You are just going to lose. We both know he wants what I can give and what you wish him to want is not his wish nor what you want, so in conclusion, your want is his wish, not that his wish is anywhere near your want.”

Pathway squinted, his eyes quickly darting between his sister and Leland. “You are… wrong. Like always,” he said, after recounting the statement a few times in his head.

Gateway laughed, and when her brother slapped the table, she laughed harder.

“Child of the Calamity!” Pathway then screeched. “I give you access to my pathways! You will never be lost and you will always know the shortest route to your destination!”

Leland hesitated a moment. “Thank you, that is very—”

“A poor gift for someone actually smart,” Gateway then said, beaming at her brother like a devilish fiend. “What need is knowing the path when you can just figure it out yourself!?”

“Oh?” Pathway snarled. “Then what is your gift? What can be better than always knowing the way to his home!?”

“I give the gift of knowledge.”

“Knowledge of what?”

Gateway shrugged. “That is for private ears only.”

The Lord of Pathways pointed his dinner knife at his sister. “You almost had me going. Just offer him a gateway and let’s be done with it. He can decide from two actual gifts.”

“Knowledge is my gift, not a gateway.”

Leland forced himself to clear his throat. “What kind of knowledge? Something that will get me home?”

Gateway studied the young man, then her brother. “My knowledge may help you in that endeavor, but not directly, no.”

Leland didn’t let his confusion show.

The Lord of Pathways did. Leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, the Lord stared at his sister like her skin was peeling, revealing a different person underneath. “You are playing us both the fool. What knowledge is more important to the lad now that can defeat my gift of a personal pathway?”

Gateway simply smiled.

Pathway turned to Leland in a rush. “Do not fall for her trickery! She is as cunning as they come!”

“I-I, uh—”

“I amend my gift!” Pathway said with another hand slam. “I will custom make a pathway specifically for your parasitic tattoo! Lodestar is it? See? Even fate agrees with my gift, such a name is a true indication for my magic!”

Gateway unfurled her hand, picking up her glass with delicate precision. “That is a wonderful amendment. The child would be a fool not to accept.”

She and Leland locked eyes for a long moment. When they broke, Leland had the distinct feeling that the Lord of Gateways was trying to help him. Or perhaps goad her brother into giving more, ultimately winning the competition through simply allowing her brother to bankrupt himself… but Leland didn’t know if a Lord could bankrupt himself, so he went with the former idea.

“That is a very kind gift,” Leland said to the Lord of Pathways. “If I accept, what do you wish in return?”

“Bah! Nothing, lad! I want nothing!”

Gateway put on a deep frown, her eyes going soft. “But brother, that wasn’t the rules of the challenge. We agreed that there would be a cost. Otherwise what good does charity do when we both have everything mortals could possibly want!? The child has to work for it, otherwise I rescind my gift and vow a century of silence.”

Pathways eyes went wide. “But then who would I have to talk to! You remember how cranky I got last time you made a similar vow!?”

She simply shrugged.

“Fine! Then, in return for my gift, the lad must kill that Witch if they ever cross paths again.”

Gateway gave a nod. “A fine cost. Child? What say you?”

Leland looked between the two. “I will accept the Lord of Pathways gift. Thank you for the offer, Lord of Gateways, but I need practicality right now, not potential.”

Pathway let out a loud laugh that shook the cutlery. Gateway gave Leland a knowing smile.