would say most — people become more confused when they are consumed by passion. But those who possess this same talent as you are able to cast curses. This is why incredibly powerful curses can be cast by the dying and the desperate. The Tradition, of course, has a lot to do with this, as well — it responds to an exceedingly well-worn Traditional Path and puts all the force of its power behind the curse. But before The Tradition can feel this, the passion itself must be single-minded. If it’s not, if the passion does not have a single object and a single goal in its focus, then The Tradition can’t sense it.”
She shivered, despite being cozily close to the fire. “It’s like this giant slug, isn’t it? Incredibly powerful, but so stupid that it will always follow the path of least resistance, and always be attracted to — ” she paused, feeling a moment of startled epiphany “ — what it feeds on?”
“Very good.” The face beamed at her. “You are going to make a quite outstanding magician, I do believe. Yes, we think that The Tradition feeds on, derives its power from, emotion, at least in part. So this may explain why it does what it does — it ‘knows,’ as a slug knows, that if it forces matters into this shape, there will be a richer reward. So it does.”
“All right, so what does this have to do with Sebastian?” she asked.
“It means that he didn’t have to actually do something that he remembers to cause someone to hate him enough to cast a curse. It means that for all we know, it could have been something completely out of his control. But that, in turn, means that we — or more precisely, he — may be able to alter the curse. Casting a curse on the curse, so to speak.”
“But why can’t the Godmother — Oh.”
“Exactly. She has a hundred concerns as pressing as Sebastian. There is no way she can muster enough passion. Only Sebastian himself can.”
“Or the person who cast it, I suppose,” she said thoughtfully. Sapphire moved over to the fire and threw a few pinecones on it for the pleasant scent. “If we could find that person and persuade him of the wrong he had done Sebastian and make him sufficiently remorseful.”
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.
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”
“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.”
