The face bobbed in agreement, but grimaced. “That is why the original caster can remove a curse when no one else can. And that is why it is so rare for him to do so. Or her, since females are extremely good at casting curses. You are very passionate creatures. Males are told from childhood to restrain their passions. Females are not. Now it is true that for most magic, control is what is important. But that is not true in curses. In a curse, it is the passion that creates the powerful curse. Females, therefore, are better at casting curses.”
It was her turn to grimace, at a memory of one of those moments when she had realized just how unfair life was. It had been another child’s tenth birthday fete when she was very young and her mother had still been alive. The event had been enormous, for the father of the birthday child was fabulously wealthy and his father wished both to demonstrate that wealth and indulge his child with the most insanely elaborate party anyone in the city had ever seen. Not even the Prince’s birthday fete the next week rivaled it… People were still talking about it to this day.
In fact, the Prince’s celebration had been quite modest by comparison. Just the usual distribution of food and blankets to the poor, and free wine to drink the Prince’s health in all the taverns. Presumably there had been a party for the boy, but only a choice few had been invited.
I wonder if that was allowed on purpose, she suddenly thought. The Prince and Darian Errolf were the same age. And if I were King and wanted to deflect the ire of evil magicians and the attention of The Tradition from my child, I think I’d welcome some idiot throwing a fete that was fit for a Prince.
Come to think of it, Darian never was the same after that. He was always doing dangerous things and sneaking off to learn sword work… No matter what his father did, he never would settle down to learn the business, and two years ago he stole a warhorse and vanished. Good thing he had a younger brother who would have turned himself inside out to please their father or there would have been no one to become the next Errolf of House of Errolf. I wonder what the ending of that tale is going to be?
Well, the point was, there had been races on ponies for wonderful prizes, but not just any ponies. These had been colored up in every shade imaginable by magic — Illusion or Transformation really didn’t matter for the effect — and of course every child wanted a ride. And of course, many fell off, because not all the children were good riders, or even riders at all. And she remembered two children who must have been the same age, sitting on the grass of the racecourse — also softened by magic, because it wouldn’t do for anyone’s child to get more than a bruise or two — crying after being thrown almost identically. One was a boy, and one a girl. The girl had been picked up by her nanny, petted, cooed at and taken off for cake. But the boy had been pulled up to his feet by his caretaker, his shoulder had been given a shake, and he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was shaming his father and he was to stop crying and be a man.
And he had.
And she had known at that moment, with complete astonishment, that the world was unfair. Sometimes it was worse to be a boy.
“On the other hand,” the face went on, “when a man can muster up the passion to cast a curse, all that repression generally makes him twice as effective as a woman.”
“Lovely,” she said dryly. “So what do you think Sebastian and I should do?”
“You won’t be able to break the curse, but if he can do this, if he can either find the leverage or the emotional energy, he can alter the curse, and the best alteration would be the one you wanted to find The Tradition for. The protective were-beast. The werewolf curse takes his mind away. If he could keep and control his mind, even if he can’t control what his body becomes, he wouldn’t be a danger anymore.” The face bobbed with satisfaction. “Now, the way to get this result, would be to concentrate on what he wants as he is actually transforming, because that will be when the curse is the most vulnerable. And make it as simple and direct as possible”
Not asking for much, are you?
“If it was easy, everyone who was cursed would be able to do it,” the face said, quite as if it had read her mind.
“All right, I’ll go tell him,” she said, as her stomach reminded her that it had been a very long time, and quite a lot of vigorous exercise, since breakfast. “And thank you,” she added, a little embarrassed that she had let momentary annoyance interfere with what should have been gratitude that the Servant had done all that research for them — and given her what amounted to another magic lesson to boot!
“You are welcome,” the Servant said politely, but with an encouraging smile. “Best of luck to you.”
She hurried down to dinner, to find that Eric was back, and deep in conversation with Sebastian. Disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to tell Sebastian her news right away, but not wanting to interrupt what looked and sounded important, she just gestured to the Spirit Elemental waiting at her place to serve her. She didn’t even notice what she was eating, she was waiting so impatiently for the two of them to end whatever their discussion was about.
“…does seem like a delicate situation,” Sebastian was saying with a frown.
Eric shrugged. “That’s what the Factor says. I’m not sure that delicate is the word I would use. The King and his Council are all sitting on the fence. The problem with being on the fence is that if you aren’t careful, you’ll get knocked off and trampled on.”
“And the Prince?” Sebastian asked. “I don’t remember him as being indecisive.”
“Wants to take the army to the border and present a united front against Waldenstein. Won’t move until his father says to, though. The King thinks sending some sort of diplomatic party to take the lay of the land is the better idea, and he’s not all that enthused about supporting Lorraine.” Eric’s lip twisted a little, but Bella couldn’t make out whether it was contempt for diplomacy or contempt for Lorraine. Maybe both.
“But Lorraine is our ally!” Sebastian objected, waving his fork wildly in the air. It was a good thing it was empty.
“So is Waldenstein,” Eric reminded him. “And Waldenstein has a bigger army.”
Sebastian rubbed his temples. “This is not good. Is the Godmother involved?”
“How would I know that? You tell me, you’re the magician,” Eric retorted. Then added, “I’d be surprised if she wasn’t, though.”