A Turn of Curses Read Online Free PDF

What if she was wrong? She didn't want to know if what she suspected about his curse was the truth. The man showed some semblance of hospitality. This way she could still hate Faldon the feyquin.
    Anxious to return to her friends and continue her journey, she started out on the road with the feyquin.
    Before the sun reached its zenith, the first faint pillars of smoke rose into the sky. Excited by the prospects of civilization, she climbed to the top of the nearest hill.
    From there, she spotted a town, if the couple dozen wood-shingled roofs and other structures within the low stone wall could be called a town. What luck! It had to be Willowbrook. It might take half a morning, but she would reach it.
    She hurried towards it without consideration for her feyquin escort. In fact, she wished they would leave her alone.
    However, their steps followed her not far behind.
    Faldon made no attempt to stop her, but neither did he speak to her. His presence grated on her nerves, perhaps more because of his silence. Or was he afraid she'd confirm the truth?
    After a short time, she stopped. "Leave me alone!"
    "No."
    "I don't need you. I won't go back. Why do you follow me?"
    "To find the truth."
    "What truth?" Now what did he want?
    "The real reason he sent for you."
    "Who? The White Prince? I don't know. If it's other than to cure the king, I've no idea." Was this the reason for his quiet all morning—to think about how to stop her from continuing to the Ivory Palace? She doubted any other reason, after all the ways he tried to stop her.
    "He has the best medics in any land. Why would King Antorin need a Na'Y'dom ?" Faldon lowered his head, his ears up, and looked her in the eyes. "Sorvin would sooner kill his father, as he did Prince Kemmon, to assure his inheritance of the throne. I would have endorsed Kemmon. He knew that. He sent his sisters to marry overseas. With his father gone and any other heirs out of the way, he would be assured succession.
    "Curing Antorin is a ruse. His only other purpose is the curse. I suspect you're a key to a cure. If he's learned how, I must know."
    "Me? How could I undo a demon's curse?"
    "I don't know. But I'll learn. If one of us is cured, the other can never be. That is the nature of our curse. I bet he hopes to cure himself so I am damned the rest of my years."
    Selina stared at the dark gray face, uncertain now of her purpose. Was this a trick to keep her back, a game to amuse the feyquin, or the truth? Sorvin was also cursed?
    She didn't want to believe the feyquin, but something in her agreed with him. She answered the call of those in need of healing. But was curing either Faldon or the prince the right thing? Cure one and leave the other damned the rest of his life—how could she make that choice? Could the rumors of the White Prince's atrocities be believed?
    She didn't know what to do. "Is Antorin sick?"
    "According to servants' gossip, he is bedridden and frail from illness," Meris said.
    "Then I'll go to him. I have a duty to heal the sick until my life is gone." None of them said a word. Her eyes fixed on Faldon in expectance of another argument.
    Instead, his ears flattened and he turned away with his head down. The other two joined him and made sounds she guessed to be their own language.
    She looked ahead to the town, where her friends most likely took rest. Her body ached for the same respite.
    But she couldn't help wondering if Faldon spoke the truth. She had saved murderers before, but not anyone who would kill their own family. The thought of being used by someone that power-hungry sickened and angered her. She almost felt sorry for the feyquin.
    Almost.
    If she cured the king, Sorvin fay Renald would lose any power he claimed in his father's stead. Antorin could take the steps necessary to prevent his son from causing any other atrocities.
    Selina sighed. Whether Sorvin called her to heal the king or himself was not her concern. Her reason for agreeing to come remained the