The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) (8 page)

Sarsen, a kinder and more patient soul than she, said
gently, “It’s dwarven stone. It’s very, very expensive and hard to find in this
area of the country. It had to have been shipped all the way from the Shinogee
Mountains to get here. If I were you, after all this was over, I’d hire an expert
to go through those ruins and dig out anything else that has been buried in
them. Then, once you know it’s safe to do so, I would take the ruins apart and
sell all the stonework before word of this gets out and you have robbers show
up to do the work for you.”

Goffin, proving to have good business sense, immediately
turned to Krause with a professional smile. “I’d be happy to go take a look
while I’m here and see if there’s anything else dangerous hidden.”

“There are at least three things I saw,” Sevana told him
absently, already focused back on the job at hand. “Anyway, the last element is
moonlit water. The stillness of a moonless night and the moonlit water tend to
blend together, but I’m fairly certain that they are not directly connected.”

Sarsen turned to her with his forehead furrowing. “
Fairly
certain?”

She hesitated before admitting grudgingly, “I’m not entirely
sure. I believe that they were meant to blend together to keep the shield
attached to the artifact. But there’s something about the way it’s designed…”
she trailed off, still not quite sure what bothered her or why. “I feel like
I’m missing something.”

“I’ll take a look,” he promised. “Maybe I’ll see it.
Alright, so, with those elements and the ones of the artifact, what does that
leave us? The acorn we can toss out.”

Seeing the two villager’s confusion, Goffin explained in an
aside, “It clashes with the water elements. It wouldn’t work well.”

Both men made silent “ah” sounds as Sevana and Sarsen sorted
out what was on the table into
useful
and
not useful
piles.
“Fairy’s kiss will blend well, as will the word from the Book of Truth—”

“—although I’d rather not use that if we don’t absolutely
have to,” Sarsen put in.

“—which leaves us with the shiranui from Master,” Sevana
finished. “Plus the captured sunlight and flask of sulfur mud from the Mudlands
that I have.”

Roland leaned over the table to peer at the bottled mud.
“Now when did you have a chance to get that? It’s ridiculously hard to buy on
the market.”

“When I was still working on the solution to Bel’s curse, I
took him there to test something and stocked up while I could.” She said this
as if it didn’t mean anything, but she could tell from the gleam in Roland’s
eyes that she had caught his interest. “I have a few other flasks in my
storerooms, if you’re interested?”

“We’ll talk prices after this,” he promised firmly.

Sarsen poked her in the ribs, making her jump. “Will you
focus?” Ignoring her dark scowl, he pointed at the useable pile. “Now, if we’re
aiming on taking down that shield first, I suggest we use some sort of
combination of shiranui, mud from the Mudlands, and captured sunlight.”

Sevana held up a hand in a staying motion. “Wait, Sarsen.
Don’t get ahead of things. We don’t know what will happen if we break the
shield.”

He opened his mouth, paused, and subsided into a thoughtful
hum as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

Decker cleared his throat. “You said there was another
Artifactor you wanted to speak with, a historian that specializes in these
things. Why? I mean, you sound as if you know what to do.”

She shook her head in denial. “There are too many
unquantified facets to this problem. How strongly is the shield tied to the
artifact? By destroying it, do we destroy the artifact as well? Does it have
some sort of fail-safe where attacking one part will make it transport, or
burn, or do something else entirely? Can we use a spell that is only slightly
stronger to attack with? Or will it be too weak to take down the shield? If
not, will it cause a magical backlash that will destroy half the village?”

“You see our hesitation,” Sarsen added, taking pity on their
unease at Sevana’s words. “We don’t want to do anything, or try something when
we only have half the information and we’re guessing at the other half.
Jacen—the other Artifactor—might or might not know anything, but we still need
to discuss this with him. He might know something, or he might be able to help
us figure out more. We reckon it’s worth the aggravation to research as much as
we can before we tackle your fountain.”

“By all means,” Krause choked out, face ashen, visions of
destroyed villages dancing in his head.

“Until then, I take it we’re counting on you two to keep
track of everyone and rescue them when they need it?” Sarsen asked the
magicians sitting at the table.

“That we will,” Roland assured him.

“Good. Well, it’s too late to leave tonight, so why don’t we
go to Jacen’s tomorrow?”

Sevana smiled at him sweetly. “We can even take our own
vehicles. How about I race you there?”

A feral smile lit up Sarsen’s face at the open challenge.
“Mixing business with pleasure, Sev?”

“Always.”

They flew directly north toward Denniston Forest and the
Belen-Kindin border. Sevana pushed
Putter
to its absolute limits, flying
far faster than prudence dictated, and she stayed neck and neck with Sarsen the
entire way. The way the air whipped around her felt exhilarating like she had
never experienced before. She caught herself laughing aloud several times just
from the adrenaline rush.

They reached Jacen’s place in about half the time it should
have taken. Sevana navigated
Putter
to land on a slight knoll outside
the front door in a small circular motion, settling down with an easy bump and
short skid on the slick grass. Sarsen, of course, had to come in even easier
and used up much more ground in order to land. He came to a stop about five
feet ahead of her, on the road that led up to the gated door, unbuckling the
harness as he completely rolled to a stop.

“I won!” she called to him as she climbed off the
mini-skimmer.

Sarsen stopped with his hands on the last set of buckles and
frowned up at her. “What are you talking about? We got here the same time!”

“I landed a good fifteen seconds before you did,” she
pointed out victoriously.

“The landing doesn’t count!”

“Who says? If you wanted to only count airtime, you should
have said so from the beginning!”

He lowered his goggles to give her a dark glower. “We’re
racing on the way back. No way I’m letting this cheap victory of yours slide.”

She gave him a cheeky grin. “Fine by me.” As she waited for
him to get completely free, she grabbed the bag with her notes and the scans
she’d taken, slinging it casually over one shoulder. Then she took a long look
around the area.

Place looked as she’d remembered, with the ridiculous gates
guarding his front door. Jacen, like most Artifactors, chose to live near
virgin forest and have access to a variety of natural elements. The four story
brick building—which had all the size of a warehouse—sat right on the edge of the
woods, the main door facing open grassland. He must have had quite the
challenge shipping
that
much red brick here to build his house with,
especially since it sat far removed from the nearest village.

The ‘gates’ were actually tall columns of white sculptures
that resembled two fearsome warriors in battle armor with a sword clutched in
front of them. They stood as tall as the building. Jacen had put them there to
discourage visitors, and most of the time, it worked like a charm.

Sarsen joined her on the knoll and she fell in step with
him, crossing to the narrow stone walkway that led straight to the front door.

“Which personality do you think we’ll meet today?”

Her companion grimaced. “He’s got four of them. It’s
anyone’s guess.”

Jacen had been cursed as a small child, and while the curse
had been broken, it had done unexpected damage to his mind. His personality had
split into four different types, each radically different than the next, and no
one knew why he switched between one personality and the next. Most people
found him unsettling to be around, hence why he chose to live in relative
isolation, but to those that knew him, he was a good man and an excellent
Artifactor. Sevana had only encountered three of his personalities so far and
she usually found her visits with him to be entertaining, in one way or
another.

They stopped right in front of the two statues and looked
up. A warding spell had been put around the property, and aside from breaking
through it (which Sevana would do if necessary), the only way to get past it was
to answer the questions the statues put to them.

When they came close enough, the statues came alive and
their eyes opened with a grating sound as stone moved against stone, heads
turning in jerky intervals to see the visitors standing below them. In a deep
voice that vibrated the air, they asked in unison, “You who have traveled far
to reach this gate, do you seek passage to the Artifactor’s realm?”

Sevana blinked. “Did he change the greeting? They didn’t say
that last time.”

Sarsen shrugged, unconcerned by this, and answered them. “We
do.”

“How may we know thee as friends?”

Huh. They hadn’t said that last time either. Sevana no
longer knew if she had the right answer to get past these louts or not. She glanced
at Sarsen who looked just as confused and unsure of what to say.

Thinking quickly, she offered, “We bring him knowledge he
seeks and secrets that he can reveal.”

Either her imagination was playing tricks on her, or did she
see a hint of a smile behind those sculpted beards? “You may pass.”

Well, they’d apparently liked that answer. Sevana passed
through with an uncertain look overhead, not quite sure what Jacen had been
thinking when he’d made those things. “Melodramatic, much?”

“He’s always had a certain flare for that,” Sarsen observed,
sounding resigned.

“Well, sure, but isn’t this over the top?” Shaking it off,
she lengthened her stride. The walkway wound around a few large plots of
cultivated beds, none of which held flowers, but all sorts of different herbs.
It’d still been arranged in an appealing way, inviting the eye to stop and look
a little longer. Considerable care had been taken to make this closed-in yard
clean and neat. Come to think of it, one of his personalities was the overly
helpful sort…it would be just like him to obsess over appearances like this.

They reached the front door of the house—a normal wooden one
painted white this time—and Sarsen reached out to bang the brass knocker. It
clanged in loud peals, leaving no doubt that anyone inside could hear it. For
several seconds, they stood there with no sign of being heard, but then the
sound of locks being undone came faintly through the wood. In the next instant,
the door was jerked roughly open.

Jacen stood in the doorway, black hair tied up in a high
ponytail as usual, skin pale from lack of sunlight, his usual white coat
smeared with all sorts of colors and metal filings from whatever he had been
working on. The outright glare on his face didn’t match his usual expression though.

Sevana tensed up. One could not, of course, tell by looking
at a person from the outside which personality was in control. At least, not at
first. But their expressions and mannerisms would give it away soon enough.
This expression hinted strongly that Jacen didn’t inhabit his mind just now.

“Ah, hello?” Sarsen ventured uncertainly, obviously picking
up that they were being faced with one of the other personalities. “We’re here
to speak with Jacen about—”

“No,” Not-Jacen said vehemently before he slammed the door
shut in their faces.

She’d encountered this personality before. “Jaston,” she
said in recognition.

“Jaston,” Sarsen agreed in exasperation. “Why did we have to
meet his grumpy personality straight off?”

“He tends to switch between one and the other fairly
quickly,” Sevana muttered to herself, trying to be hopeful about the situation.
“Maybe if we give it a few minutes and try again, we’ll get Jacen.”

“You know that’s wishful thinking.”

“Shut it. I’m trying to think positive. Otherwise we’ve come
all this way for nothing and we’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

They waited impatiently in front of the door, not speaking
for several long minutes before Sarsen blew out a breath and raised his hand,
knocking again.

It took a minute, as it had before, as if Jacen had
retreated to some other section of the house and had to come back to the door.
He even had to undo the same locks again. This time, however, he greeted them
in an entirely different way. Jaston had obviously switched with another personality
as instead of a growl and a slamming door, Not-Jacen lounged up against the
doorframe, hip canted, arm braced so that he
leaned
toward them, eyes sultry,
and gave his guests a head-to-toe scan. “Well, hello Sexy—” he purred.

Sarsen grabbed the door handle and roughly slammed it shut.

Sevana spluttered, staring up at him incredulously. “Ah, why
did you do that?”

“I am absolutely not dealing with Jocelin,” Sarsen said
firmly, still gripping the door handle to prevent it from being opened.

Jocelin? The personality that she’d never met before? “Wait,
his fourth personality is a flirt?”

“You don’t want to be around him, trust me. Of all of his
personalities,
that
one is the most challenging to handle.”

Sevana stared up at him, studying his expression. Why did he
look slightly…panicky? “And you know this because?”

“Prior experience.”

Oh, did she ever want the full story on
that
. From
the way Sarsen had clamped his jaw shut, it would take serious trickery to get
it out of him, though. And likely, Jacen wouldn’t remember a thing about it
because it was Jocelin that was in control and not him. Curse the luck.

Several taut minutes ticked by before Sarsen carefully undid
his grip on the door handle. Almost gingerly this time he knocked again. The
process repeated of someone on the other side unlocking the bolts and opening
the portal, but this time, it was a normal smile that greeted them. “Well,
hello!”

Sevana looked at him suspiciously. Two of the personalities
she had a hard time differentiating between because on the surface, they were
similar. Jensen reacted like Jacen in many ways, but where Jacen was a
competent Artifactor, Jensen was a walking disaster. She didn’t know which man
she had in front of her. “Hello,” she greeted. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Jacen (?) agreed, smile widening. “Come in, come
in. It’s unexpected to see you here together. Is this business, or…?”

“We have come here for help,” Sarsen admitted. (Sevana noted
the omission of ‘your help’ with interest. Sarsen didn’t know who they spoke
with either, eh?) “We’ve come across a very troublesome artifact that dates
from the eighth century.”

“Ohhh,” he responded, eyes lighting up. “Do tell. Still
active and functioning?”

“Unfortunately,” Sevana grumbled.

Their host glanced at her, frown passing quickly over his
face. “I sense a long story coming. Here, come in, let’s sit while you
explain.”

He waved them through the foyer and into another room, this
one pleasantly decorated with landscapes on the walls and comfortable furniture
arrayed around the room. Sevana took an armchair and sank into it with a sigh
of leather, Sarsen taking the armchair next to hers. Their host sat across from
them, taking an aging armchair that had seen better days and propping his feet
up on a mismatched ottoman.

“So, tell me what’s going on.”

Sevana dutifully explained, not skipping any of the
particulars, and started from when Decker had first come to her with a request
for help. She went through everything until yesterday when Sarsen had arrived,
ending with, “I have detailed diagnostics and scans for you to look at, since I
can’t bring the artifact itself.”

Jacen (?) had listened intently to all of this, hands
clasped in front of his chin, eyes trained on her. “Fascinating. You know, I do
believe I read about something like this. Hold on a moment, would you? Let me
fetch it. I believe I remember which book it was in.” Without waiting for a
response, he leaped lightly out of the chair and scurried off, heading for the
back of the building.

In a low tone, Sevana asked, “Is it Jacen or Jensen we’re
dealing with?”

“I can’t tell,” Sarsen growled. “They’re so alike in some
ways. And he hasn’t moved around enough, or said enough, for me to spot any
differences.”

“And if it is Jensen?” She hated to think about that, but
had to. “He’s already switched personalities three times in the past fifteen
minutes, which has to be a new record for him. Typically his personalities stay
for several hours at a time.”

“Which means we’d need to stay and wait here for several
hours before he could possibly switch to Jacen.”

“Or Jocelin,” she said in resignation. “Or Jaston.”

“I normally don’t mind all of this, but it sure makes matters
difficult when it’s
Jacen
we need to speak with.” Sarsen rubbed at his
eyes with the pads of his fingers. “And we’re facing a dangerous situation, to
boot. I surely do wish Master could find a way to regulate Jacen’s mind.”

She shook her head. “The mind is a strange thing, stranger
than anything else, and no one understands it. We still don’t know why Jacen’s
mind broke in the first place. Besides, most of the time I find his other
personalities entertaining.”

“That’s because you have a twisted sense of humor.”

Sevana laughed and didn’t even try to deny it.

From somewhere deep within the building, a roar of flame
burst out, flashing down the hallway with blue-green light. Tremors rocked
through the house, shaking everything so that the glass windows rattled, and
the very frame of the building moaned under the force of it.