The Assassin's Curse

  The fire had burned out, just like I said it would, and the driftwood lay blackened and ashy along the horizon line. Naji was crouched beside the remains, his head hanging in his hands, hair stringy from the rain. He stirred as I walked up to him, but he didn't say anything, didn't even look up.

  "I found a spring," I said.

  No answer. I sat down beside him and balanced the sword on my knees and stared at the remains of the fire, trying my best to ignore the dampness in the air.

  "A spring," Naji said after a while, muttering down at his feet.

  "Yeah. You know. For drinking. I had some and it didn't do nothing to me, so hopefully…" I couldn't finish that thought. We sat in silence for a few moments more.

  "I'm sorry I said I was glad your magic ran out."

  Naji lifted his head but he still didn't look at me. I could hear the waves crashing beneath us.

  "It happens," he said, "when I exert myself."

  "I know."

  Another moment of silence.

  "I hope to be recovered enough within the next few days to cast a tracking spell on the Wizard Eirnin, but I don't…" He dipped his head again. "I've never run out like this. And with the curse – I just don't know."

  I toyed with the hem of my shirt and looked down at the sand. My head felt thick with what he had just told me. Maybe he didn't have to die for us to get sucked into the island's magic.

  "Maybe we can find the wizard the untouched way." Not that I liked the idea of wandering the island.

  "I doubt we'll be able to find him just by searching."

  "Ain't that big of an island."

  Naji glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and even with just that tiny look I caught a glimpse of the weariness and the hurt I'd caused him as I had traipsed alone through the woods. "The size of the island isn't the issue," he said. "I doubt very seriously the Wizard Eirnin will be easily found. Most wizards aren't. Not unless you know where to look."

  I didn't have no answer to that.

  "I might be able to conjure up a fire tomorrow," he said. "A small one."

  "Maybe you should focus on getting better first."

  "Perhaps you should show me the spring. You are correct that we'll need water to survive." He sighed. "We can look for food and shelter tomorrow."

  "I can look for it to–"

  "No." The word sliced through the air, left me colder than any rain ever could. "No. Once was enough."

  I didn't need to ask him what he meant.

  "I'm sorry," I said softly.

  Naji pushed himself to his feet, and I noticed that he was shaking. If it was because of the cold or because of the way he wore himself out or because he was as scared as me, I couldn't say. But I didn't say nothing about him not being able to make it. I didn't say nothing about the spell he cast onboard the Ayel's Revenge.

  We walked side by side as I led him through the woods.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

That night I made a little tent out of fern fronds and fallen sticks not far from the spring, and I fell asleep to the gurgle of water and the glow of Naji's tattoos as he started healing himself. It was weird sleeping so close to him, and at first I lay on my back and looked up at the pattern of shadows created by the ferns, my hands folded over my stomach so I wouldn't accidentally touch him.

  I woke up the next morning covered in ferns and rainwater. The tent had collapsed in the night, probably cause of some storm, and Naji was curled up on his side, his tattoos dull and flat against his skin. I pushed the ferns away and peeled off my soaked-through coat and shivered in the cool, damp air. The spring bubbled and churned a few feet away. Naji didn't move.

  I shook his shoulder. He moaned and fluttered his eyes.

  "Naji?" I asked. "Are you alright?"

  He rolled onto his back, shedding a cascade of fern fronds and rain drops.

  "Ana

  "Kaol! You really don't know?" Anger rose up in me and turned to panic. I pressed my hand to his forehead. His skin was hot. "I think you have a fever."

  He closed his eyes. I lay my ear against his chest to listen for the rattle of the northern sickness, but his breathing was steady and even.

  "Need to rest," he murmured.

  "Naji!" I shook him again. He stirred but didn't respond. At least his chest was rising and falling, and his tattoos had taken to glowing again. I stood up and paced back and forth in front of the spring. If he was sick, he needed warmth and shelter. And I didn't much like the idea of us staying in the woods, neither.

  So I stole his sword and took off for the beach. The chiming forest was rioting in the pale morning, the trees throwing off glints of light, everything sounding like temple bells after a wedding. I picked my way through those narrow trunks, leaves drifting through the air. They stuck to my skin, and when I tried to wipe them away they shattered and smeared like the spun-sugar figures in a fancy Lisirran bakery.

  Still, I made it to the shoreline easy enough. The sand dropped off toward the sea, which churned below the island, frothy and roiling with the wind. I rubbed at my arms to try and take out some of the chill; it didn't work, and so I put my coat back on even though it was still wet. I didn't know which direction to go, which direction would lead me to shelter. All the damn trees looked the same, and the clouds covered up the sun.

  I shouldn't have left him at the spring.

  But if I'd stayed behind, what could I have done then? Watch him burn up with a fever? Watch him sink into the soil and become part of the Isles?

  No. I had to do something.

  I trekked along the sand, gathering up the largest pieces of driftwood I could find and stacking them together close to the treeline. The beach felt safer; it was out in the open, which meant it was easier to spot any creatures that might come our way. But I wasn't sure if the tides came in here, and I didn't much want to risk it.

  Once I had the driftwood gathered I ventured into the fringe of the woods. I didn't want to bother with fern leaves again, but there really wasn't much I could use in the way of shelter-building. I pulled the sword out of its scabbard and crept deeper into the forest. Here, the light turned a syrupy golden color I didn't trust one bit. Ain't no way the northern sun could give out light like that. But there was a certain type of tree in this part of the woods, one that I hadn't seen before, with trunks covered in a chalky pale white bark that peeled off in long wide strips. I didn't trust it, but sometimes you gotta trust the thing you don't want to.