Page 53 of The Curse Between Us

The young woman rose slowly, her voice trembling but determined as she spoke. “I am Muriel, Your Majesty,” she said, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “My family and I journey into the mountains to bring back water for the castle. It is our regular task.”

Zephyr nodded, trying to put her at ease. “And we thank you for your service, Muriel,” he said. “What news do you bring?”

Muriel reached into the folds of her robe and withdrew a small flask, her hands shaking as she presented it to him.Zephyr’s stomach tightened. The flask’s contents were not something anyone would expect to see from the mountains.

With a steady hand, Muriel unscrewed the stopper and tilted the flask, allowing its contents to spill slowly onto the stone floor. The liquid that poured out was not clear and pure, as it should have been, but thick and grey. The foul smell of ashes rose immediately, filling the room with a heavy, acrid scent.

Zephyr’s breath caught in his throat, and a stunned silence fell over the courtiers. A few gasps echoed around the hall as the realization of what they were seeing sank in. This was no ordinary water. This was something far worse.

“All of it is like this?” Zephyr asked, leaning forward, his voice strained with disbelief.

Muriel nodded, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “We visited every spring we know of, Your Majesty. All of them were like this. My father instructed me to bring it to you at once, with all possible speed.”

The room erupted into worried whispers, panic creeping into the voices of the courtiers. Zephyr held up his hand, silencing the room with a gesture. “Please,” he said, his voice steady but authoritative. “Our alarm will serve no purpose if we do not remain calm.”

Once the noise died down, Zephyr turned his gaze back to Muriel. “Your father was right to send you. Thank you for your quick action and service, Muriel.” He gestured to one of the attendants who had been standing nearby, motioning for them to assist the young woman. “Rest now, and take comfort. You have done well.”

The attendant moved forward, offering a comforting hand to Muriel, who gave a small nod of gratitude before she was led away. Zephyr watched her go, his heart sinking as the reality of the situation settled in. They depended on the mountain springs for water, especially in these cold months when the snowwas frozen solid, and now those very sources were tainted. If this contamination spread…

Wilfred, ever the quick thinker, stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. “Your Majesty, perhaps the scholars at the academy can help. Could they create a purification system, a filter, maybe?”

Zephyr looked at him intently, his mind already turning to the possibilities. “We will try,” he said, his voice firm. “If a filter can be made, then we will do so. But we may also need to travel to the springs themselves, to see what can be done at the source.” He paused, thinking of the many people relying on this water, both within the castle and beyond. “We can’t afford to let this go unchecked.”

Wilfred nodded, already gathering his thoughts as he turned to leave. “I will see to it immediately, Your Majesty.”

Next, Zephyr looked to Hannah, his other cousin. “Consult with the palace staff,” he ordered. “Take careful inventory of our stores, and prepare a plan for rations. If this situation worsens, we must be prepared.”

Hannah’s face drained of color as the gravity of the situation hit her. She nodded, then turned to gather the necessary people, her steps quick and purposeful.

Zephyr’s eyes then turned to Pierce. His trusted right hand. The one person who knew him better than anyone else. “Pierce,” he said quietly, his voice dropping low enough that only his cousin could hear, “You know what I must ask of you.”

Pierce was already shaking his head, a resigned expression on his face. “Zeph—”

“What kind of king would I be if I remained here, hiding behind the walls of my palace?” Zephyr cut him off, his voice steady with determination. He rose from his seat, brushing off the weight of the crown that had been placed upon his head so many years ago. He glanced at his cousin, a faint smile on hislips. “It won’t be for long this time, I swear. I will make the journey into the mountains to see this for myself, and then I will return.”

Pierce’s eyes darkened with concern, but his pride for Zephyr could not be hidden. He gave a reluctant smile. “There’s no arguing with you, is there?”

“No,” Zephyr replied, a hint of humor in his voice. “I am the king, after all.”

At this, Pierce laughed and pulled Zephyr into a tight embrace. “Be careful,” he murmured, his voice low and full of care. “I do not like this.”

“Nor do I,” Zephyr answered, pulling back with a resigned shrug. “And that is why we must stop it.”

Turning to face the crowd, Zephyr straightened his back and lifted his chin high. “I will be venturing forth into the western mountains personally,” he announced, his voice carrying through the room. “Lord Pierce will serve as regent in my absence, as he has done before.” He took a deep breath, surveying the guards standing at attention around the perimeter of the room. “Do I have any volunteers to accompany me?”

Without hesitation, every single one of the guards raised their hands, their faces a mixture of concern and loyalty. Zephyr felt a surge of gratitude. Despite the dangers ahead, they were ready to follow him into the unknown.

“Thank you,” Zephyr said, a small but genuine smile curving his lips. “We leave in one hour.”

???

The smell of ash grew sharper with every step as Zephyr and his party ascended higher into the mountains. The air was thick with the scent, heavy and oppressive, and it made Zephyr’s chest tighten. He coughed harshly, his lungs protesting againstthe stench, and quickly wound his scarf tighter around his face, trying to block out the fumes. The air tasted of something burning, something once alive now turned to nothing but smoldering remains.

They had already passed two of the nearer springs, both of them bubbling with the same thick, grey water that had shocked Zephyr when he first laid eyes on it. The foul liquid was thick with soot, and Zephyr could almost feel the weight of the pollution in the air itself. He had ordered his guards to collect samples from both, watching warily as they did so. The soldiers, with their gloves securely fastened, handled the water with practiced indifference, but Zephyr could see their discomfort in the stiffness of their movements. They didn’t speak about it, but he knew they felt it too—the wrongness of it all.

The path ahead grew rougher, and Zephyr urged his horse forward. He patted her side soothingly as she whinnied uneasily, her hooves slipping slightly on the jagged rocks beneath her. She was well-trained, but even she seemed to sense that something was amiss. The horses were always sensitive to these things, and Zephyr couldn’t help but wonder if they were picking up on more than just the change in the landscape. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the very earth itself was watching them, as though the mountains themselves were waiting for them to make the wrong move.

As the last spring came into view around a sharp curve in the path, Zephyr raised his hand, signaling the others to halt. His gaze scanned the surroundings, noting the eerie stillness of the landscape. The usual sounds of wildlife were muted, and the air felt unnaturally quiet. It was as if nature itself was holding its breath.

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