Her breath caught, the tiny sound quite audible in the deadened quiet of the cabin. Then she leaned forward and cupped his cheeks between her hands as she stared at his eyes. He knew what she saw. He looked at the same thing several times a day.
He was an Eagle Owl in his Wyr form, the largest species of owl in the world, and normally his eyes were very like his Wyr form’s, a kind of golden amber with an orange hue. The strange, brilliant color unsettled many people.
Now his eyes were changing. Darkness like spilled ink grew over the irises, the pupils and the whites. He had already lost some of his distance and peripheral vision. Eventually the black would take over completely.
“What happened?” she breathed. She stroked his temple. The caress felt shockingly intimate and kind, and it woke an immense hunger inside of him.
His voice turned harsh. “I’m going blind,” he said. “The last job I took, I was guarding an archaeological party that traveled along the Amazon River. We were attacked.”
He told her about the chieftain, the shrunken head and the curse, while horror and compassion shadowed her face. “We did everything to try to avoid actual violence, but there comes a point when you have to stop talking and fight for your lives. I think he wanted to strike me blind instantly so that I would be crippled in battle, but my body’s natural immune system took over and started fighting it off. I get periodic headaches and low grade fevers. Eventually the curse will take hold completely.”
She asked gently, “Isn’t there some way to break it? Most written curses I’ve seen are structured like a lock and key. Verbal ones have to have the same kind of structure.”
“This one has a very tight lock,” he said. “I’ve expended most of the company’s personnel and financial resources looking for a cure. In fact, I have a dozen teams searching in the field right now. Carling thinks the only way to reverse the spell is to have the chieftain use the head again. But of course that’s impossible, because he’s dead.”
She shook her head. “There has to be something, some other way.”
“Carling said I should consult with the Oracle about it,” he said. “I don’t think a prophecy will be much use, but I’ll try anything. I plan on going to see her when we get back.”
“Don’t write off what Grace might be able to do for you,” she said, still stroking his temple. “She’s done some strange and wonderful things.”
The disappointments of the last several months had been so bitter and extreme that a resurgence of hope hurt. His chest felt full of ground glass. He couldn’t trust himself to say anything. Instead he gritted his teeth and merely nodded.
When she sat back and let her hands fall to her lap, he missed her touch.
Then he decided he wasn’t going to miss anything. Not a thing. He would grab at every last bit of life, experience everything, take everything he wanted. He knew it was a selfish decision, and he didn’t care.
No regrets.
He stood, pulled her upright with him and drew her into his arms. She came readily, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. More shock shuddered through him at the rightness of it. They fit, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. She was more slender. He stood a little taller. Balance and counterbalance, like a lock and a key.
He ran his fingers through her short, soft hair, and she rubbed her hands up and down his back. “I just don’t understand how somebody could do that,” she whispered. “How they could throw a curse at someone and know it will destroy their life.”
He could do that, throw a curse and destroy someone else’s life. Or wield a weapon, or strike with his body. He could kill someone. He had, many times before.
“I came to realize a long time ago that there are two kinds of people in the world. There are those who are wicked, and those who are not.” Julian. Phaedra. So many others he had met throughout his life. “And you are not one of them.”