Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (26 page)

"Oh
yes, well, except for castor oil. You might have to procure the beans, press
the oil yourself and then boil the oil to remove impurities and refine
it."

"Of
course. Of course." Pancras nodded and clapped Arnost on the shoulder.
"Thank you very much. There is an herbalist or apothecary in the city,
yes?" Pancras was sure there must be one, but confirmation and directions
would be helpful.

"Oh
yes, more than one I think." Arnost furrowed his brow and looked upward.
"Not quite sure where they are, though. I've never had cause to seek them
out."

Pancras
smiled and offered Arnost a curt nod. "I suppose Lady Milena would
know."

"Milena?
Oh, I doubt it."

At the sound
of her name, Lady Milena thanked the acolyte with whom she conversed and
returned to Pancras and Arnost. "What won't I know?"

"Where
an herbalist is located." Pancras was willing to wager she knew. However,
he wanted to do more research before going there. He still wanted to find out
what solutions priests of Cybele and Aurora would suggest.

"Of
course I know where the apothecaries are."

"Milena!
Surely you don't mingle with the commoners—"

"Let's
go." Milena took Pancras's arm and led him away from Arnost.

"Milena,
wait! Don't go yet. It's been so long."

Lady Milena
stopped and closed her eyes. Pancras saw her counting in silence to herself
before she spun on her brother. "You would do well to remember the
commoners are not some contagion, brother. They are the backbone of the realm,
not the ground beneath your feet. You ought to mingle with them yourself
instead of looking down upon them from on high."

Arnost
blushed, albeit his eyes remained fixed on his sister. After a moment, he
nodded and regarded the ground. "You're right, of course. My duties keep
me isolated from the people, Milena."

"Mine
do not. Goodbye, Arnost."

Pancras followed
Milena as she exited the temple. Part of him felt bad for Arnost, but he took
comfort that he wasn't the only one with whom Lady Milena was curt. He wondered
if Prince Gavril made a habit of making unreasonable demands of her.

When they
reached the bottom of the temple's hill, she slowed her pace, allowing Pancras
to catch up. "Where to now, Pancras? The apothecary?"

"Not
yet. Is there a temple to Aurora? You said the one to Cybele was outside of the
city, yes?"

Milena
rubbed her temple. "It is really necessary to speak to a priestess of
Aurora?"

Pancras
understood the cause of her reluctance. Temples dedicated to Aurora were rarely
formal structures like the Temple of Apellon. In small towns and villages they
were simple shrines tended by one or two women, often those with
less-than-wholesome reputations among the self-righteous. In larger cities,
like Almeria, they were often compared to brothels, and certainly, they served
a similar purpose. Aurora celebrated lust and the physical aspects of love,
however, and did not view the expression of faith as something to hide or of
which to be ashamed. The worship of Aurora made some people uncomfortable.

"I want
to be sure I'm acquiring the correct reagents and materials. I don't want to
make several trips back and forth in the cold and snow." He lifted up his
hoof and used his finger to brush away packed-in snow from the bottom of it.
"It's uncomfortable."

"Very
well." She gestured for him to follow her. "There are several
shrines, I hear, in various brothels, but I expect you seek the temple
proper."

"Yes,
indeed." While it was possible a priestess tending a shrine might have the
knowledge Pancras sought, one of the attending priestesses at the actual temple
to Aurora most certainly would possess such knowledge. They might even have
books for Pancras to study, unlike the priests of Apellon, who usually kept
only sheet music in their temples, and more often than not, even that was
scarce, as the musicians who played during worship took the sheet music with them
for practice.

Pancras
considered asking Milena about her brother to make conversation as they walked,
but her pinched expression and rigid posture suggested it would not be a
welcome topic.
Perhaps I will invite her to dine with the draks and me
tonight when we return to the palace.

* * *

Kale
awakened before his sister, not an unusual occurrence whenever she conjured.
She didn't tax herself too much when they explored the mines, but the magic
coupled with the running and climbing were enough to send her straight to bed
after she filled her belly.

Pancras had
already departed by the time Kale awoke, so he took advantage of the empty
parlor in which to spread his wings and examine them carefully. He wanted to do
it as soon as they returned from their expedition, but his grumbling belly and
Delilah's protestations that he wait until Pancras awakened delayed his
exploration of them.

They
reminded him of Terrakaptis's wings, on a much smaller scale, of course. He
flapped them a few times, taking note of which muscles they required. He found
if he concentrated, he could move each individually and was sure that with
practice they would become as nimble as his other appendages.

Jumping up
into the air, Kale flapped his wings as hard and fast as he was able. He
hovered for a few moments before he fell back to the ground. His wings caught
the air, but he was disappointed that flying was a skill he needed to practice.
An idea formed in Kale's head, and he grinned as he climbed up on the table.
Looking down at the floor, he realized he still wasn't up far enough, so he
pulled a chair onto the top of the table and climbed on its seat.

“Higher. I
need to get higher.” He looked around the room and his eyes stopped on the
chandelier suspended from the ceiling above the table. He stretched, but his
fingertips only brushed the bottom. Kale jumped and grabbed the bottom of the
chandelier. He heard a crack from the ceiling, and flakes of stone rained down
on his head.

The
chandelier held, however, and Kale kicked his legs forward. He swung back and
forth, building momentum. The chain holding the chandelier in place groaned in
protest, and when it reached its apex, Kale let go and spread his wings. They
caught the air, and he held them as he glided across the parlor and straight
toward the double doors.

His breath
quickened, and his eyes widened when he realized his descent was slower than
the speed at which he covered the distance between the table and the doors. He
swung his legs around and flapped his wings to slow down, but the sudden loss
of lift caused him to plummet, and he hit the floor, rolling across it and
slamming into the bottom of the doors.

“Ow.”

Kale’s head
spun, but he found the cool stone comforting. He rolled over on his stomach to
free his wings from being folded up underneath him. After taking a moment to
catch his breath, he stood up and tried again.

Delilah
exited their bedroom, rubbing her eyes and yawning as he climbed onto the
table. She blinked and put her hands on her hips. "Just what in the name
of Maris's bloody spear are you doing?"

"Getting
used to my wings." Kale jumped and grabbed the chandelier again. The
support gave way, and the entire fixture came down, accompanied by a shower of
debris from the ceiling. Kale fell back onto the table and sent the chair
flying. Dishes shattered and cracked as he rolled to the side in a desperate
attempt to avoid being flattened by the chandelier.

Delilah
clucked her tongue as she helped her brother up. "You broke the bloody
room! Next time throw yourself off a building. I'm trying to sleep!"

"Sorry,
Deli." Kale brushed himself off. He jiggled the chandelier where it lay on
the table, and in so doing he tipped over a pitcher of wine, spilling its
contents on the table. Red wine ran along the surface, soaking into the table
runner before dripping onto the carpet. "Do you think they can fix this
before Pancras gets back?"

* * *

As he looked
up at Aurora's Sanctuary, Pancras appreciated the architectural work of art.
The building, a tall, pink-and-blue, spiral tower, thrust into the sky. The
spirals led his eyes toward the onion dome, adorned with gold ridges, on top of
the tower and a spire upon which a red banner fluttered. There was a bulge at
the base of the tower, which served as a point of entry or foyer. A golden sea
shell decorated the arched, black entry door.

Two round
evergreen shrubs flanked the door. A man brushed past Pancras, nearly slipping
on the snow. They were close enough to the market for Pancras to hear vendors
barking and innkeepers promising warm fires and mulled wine to soothe chilly
shoppers.

Milena stood
next to Pancras and looked up at the tower. "I hate this building. Had I
not sworn an oath to keep you in sight whenever you were outside the palace, I
would not be going in with you."

"You
could stay out here. I will tell no one, and there isn't anywhere to which I
can escape." He sympathized with Milena's discomfort. Something about the
building made him uneasy. It was, without a doubt, the most colorful building
he'd seen during his stay in Almeria.

Her sidelong
glare told Pancras all he needed to know about how she felt about that idea. He
cleared his throat and entered the building. The parlor was dominated by a
roaring fire in a circular hearth. Red banners covered the walls, and
multi-colored rugs with strange, sweeping patterns on them covered the floors.
In between the banners were alcoves in which statues of Aurora stood, each
depicting the nude goddess in various contortions of ecstasy. A short hallway
led out of the room to a corridor that appeared to curve around the inside of
the tower.

A woman
tending the fire looked up when they entered. Her golden locks reached almost
to the floor, and she was draped in a shimmering gown the color of fresh pine
needles. She turned a log and then bowed to Milena and Pancras. "Welcome
to Aurora's Sanctuary. Have you come to seek shelter from the cold? Instruction
in love, perhaps?" She cast an appraising glance at Pancras. "Or
perhaps, you're simply lost?"

Milena's
sigh was audible, and she looked around the room, searching for a spot, devoid
of sculptures of nude women, upon which to rest her eyes. Pancras offered the
priestess a smile. "None of those. I need to speak with a priestess about
a very delicate matter, in private, please."

"Not
too private. You must remain in my sight." Milena appeared to have settled
upon staring into the fire.

The
priestess took Pancras by the arm. "Fear not, lady. I shall not steal your
lover from you."

"My—he
is not my lover!" Milena clenched her fists and stepped toward the
priestess.

"No?"
The priestess squeezed Pancras's arm. "Then I may steal him away after
all. Minotaurs are so strong. So big."

Pancras felt
his face grow hot. "I am not here for that, either." He gestured
toward the hallway. "Please."

He
accompanied the priestess into the tower proper. Milena followed them, keeping
her distance. The priestess stroked Pancras's arm as they strode. He noticed
she smelled floral, as if she'd just come from the meadow. Murals on the walls
illustrated various positions of lovemaking, and Pancras was sure he heard
moaning coming from the room they just passed.

"I am
Oksana, Second Divine of Aurora."

He lowered
his head to speak to Oksana and reduce the risk of Milena overhearing. "I
was hoping you had a text I might read or borrow that deals with treatments of
various ailments like infertility. I've been tasked with something of a rather
delicate nature, so we're trying to keep this quiet."

Oksana shook
her head, looking at Pancras with sadness in her eyes. "Oh, no. We have
nothing to help you conceive with the lady. Minotaurs and humans simply cannot
have children."

Pancras
stopped and rubbed his nose. "Again, we are not lovers. I cannot tell you
for whom I seek this solution. It's confidential, you understand. That's why
this… person has turned to an outsider for help."

"My
apologies." Oksana bowed her hand, pressing her palms together. "I
thought you were just being coy. Minotaur-human relationships are not unheard
of, but they are frowned upon here in Almeria. We try not to judge. Aurora is
concerned with love, the expression of love as pleasure, not with whom you
choose to express those passions."

Pancras
lowered her hands. "I appreciate that. Have you something that can help
me? Or perhaps know of a remedy?"

Oksana wrung
her hands together and bit her bottom lip as she thought. "I believe we
have such a text. The high priestess would have specific knowledge, but she is
occupied with worship at the moment. Disturbing her would be a grave affront to
Aurora."

Pancras
glanced back at Milena. The knight stood almost at attention, with her hands
clasped behind her back. He felt her eyes bore into him. "I do not wish to
disturb your high priestess. I can find the solution in your texts myself. If I
might be permitted to view them? Perhaps borrow them?"