Weaver's Curse

Someone was climbing below them on the mountains. Indeara had first spotted them two days. There were three figures far below them, tiny black specks against the grey and green scenery.

“Do you think it’s them?” Vassa asked.

“It’s probable.” Sedine said. “Although it could be another group of travelers. But since my dear friends came and threatened to find me in my dreams four days before they showed up, it looks awfully suspicious.”

“I could crush them with rocks,” Indeara offered. “But I’d rather not until we confirm their identity.”

“Orrrr,” Vassa said. “You could just block the trail?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Indeara said.

“Hm…” Sedine said, surveying the mountain below the cliff they stood on. “Where would be the best place to collapse the path?”

“How about there?” Vassa asked, pointing to a spot where the path had sheer walls of cliff on either side. “If you can make a big enough explosion to block the entire path, they’ll have to double back.”

“I was just thinking that.” Sedine said.

“Um. Is this going to be noisy?” Pinky asked.

“Yeah probably.” Indeara said.

“Would one of you mind covering my ears?” the sow asked.

“I’ve got you.” Vassa said. “I brought earplugs anyway.”

“Do you want me to do it now?” Indeara asked.

“Sure.” Sedine said.

The others backed away, covering their ears.

Indeara focused on the mountainside. You want to crumble, she whispered to it mentally. You want to quake.

Barely perceptible tremors began to run through the earth she stood on.

You want to burst. You want to explode outwards.

There was a deafening crack, and stone and earth began to crumble away from the mountain. She directed it towards the place Vassa had indicated.

More. You want to explode like a frozen grape in hot oil.

The loud cracking noises continued. More soil and rock shards rained down on the path.

Well that was a little harder than that carriage back in Reganne, Indeara thought, mopping sweat off her forehead.

“Nice going!” Sedine complimented her, grinning.

“Let’s get a head start!” Pinky said.

“Are you feeling alright?” Vassa asked. “That looked intense!”

“It was!” Indeara said. “But I think I’ll be fine. Let’s go!”

They walked briskly up the mountain, all four of them laughing with glee.

“What do you bet one of them will be in my dreams tonight saying something along the lines of ‘we know you have a witch ally now, Sedine. You can’t escape us’?” Sedine said.

“If they do, just say ‘what on earth are you talking about? I’m travelling alone?’,” Vassa suggested, giggling harder.

“Even better, say ‘I actually have five. Maybe be a little more careful’,” Pinky snorted.

Indeara gasped for breath, unable to control her laughter.

“Please.” She said. “Whichever you use, you have to tell us their reaction!”

“Okay!”

“It’s going to be really funny if that wasn’t actually them!” Vassa said. “Imagine: you’re a simple traveler trying to pass through the peaks with your companions, and some asshole witch just says ‘nah, not today’.”

“I’m going to feel bad if we ever find out if it wasn’t them.” Indeara admitted.

“Little harmless pranking never hurt anyone!” Sedine said.

“I assure you my good sirs: dropping half the mountain in your path is part of a comedy piece I’ve been working on.” Pinky said.

“It’ll be quite the rocky journey for them!” Vassa said.

“Full of unexpected obstacles.” Sedine agreed.

“If we’re ever like, not on the run from Sedine’s psychotic family, we need to use your power’s full potential for pranking.” Vassa said. “What else can you do?”

“I just manipulate whatever state an object is in. Meaning I mostly just explode shit.” Indeara said. “I can also implode things. And melt them, I think.”

“Okay. Let’s melt someone’s doorknob.” Vassa said.

“Why not.” Indeara agreed.

“There are lots of possibilities.” Sedine said, smirking. “Imagine: a steaming basket of rolls are placed on some poor tavern-goer’s table. Indeara then melts them.”

“I feel like I might have tried something similar once.” Indeara said, smiling.

As usual, her memories of the past were a haze. There was a vague idea that she’d done it, probably to a soup tureen. Someone might have been with her then.

Right on cue, a flash of heat blazed through the marking on her neck. She slapped at it, as if trying to squash a mosquito.

“Is your parasite bothering you again, babe?” Sedine asked.

“Parasite?!”

“What else are we supposed to call them?”

“Parasite doesn’t fit.” Vassa said. “Calling them a parasite implies that they’re stealing something essential from Indeara.”

“Like her memories?” Pinky suggested.

“Well that is an interesting theory.” Indeara said. “Didn’t consider that.”

“Okay then they are a parasite.” Vassa said, nodding. “We’ll call them that from now on.”

“How about we don’t?” Indeara pleaded. “That sounds creepy.”

“Leeching off of someone’s memories is creepy.” Vassa said. “I’m calling them a parasite.”

They went ahead and made a fire that night. It wasn’t like their followers were catching up anytime soon. Sedine had managed to catch some squirrels for them that afternoon and they were stewing with a few wild onions and some dried beans from their pack.

“Not my best work.” Vassa said, dishing the stew out. “Enjoy!”

Indeara took a sip. The thin broth was mostly tasteless, not necessarily foul.

“Got enough for one more?” Nigel Diddlesworth asked, strolling out of the undergrowth.

“NIGEL?!” Sedine cried, nearly dropping her cup of soup. “How did you get here?”

“That is a great question.” He said. “One I will not be answering.”

“What are you doing here?” Indeara asked.

“What I do in my free time is none of your business.” Nigel said. “Just thought I would pop by for a visit. I brought donuts.”

He produced a gently steaming parcel of donuts rolled in cinnamon sugar.

“I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a village anywhere nearby.” Indeara said, shooting a questioning glance at Sedine.

She shrugged in response. “He does this kind of thing sometimes.”

“Ooh donuts!” Pinky said, butting Nigel’s hand with her snout.

“ARGH!! WHAT IS THAT THING?!” he shouted.

“Did you just call me ‘that thing’?” Pinky said indignantly. “How exceedingly rude!”

“My how the tables turn.” Sedine said, probably to herself.

So not even a mysterious fellow like him knows how to react to a talking hog. At least I didn’t scream.

“What sort of godforsaken place do you come from that they don’t have talking pigs?” Vassa asked, snagging a donut.

“A normal one?” Nigel said.

“There were several talking hogs where I grew up,” Indeara said, somehow keeping a straight face.

“Yeah we had a few in the Malachite Manor.” Sedine said.

“Sedine, I know you’re lying. I’ve been there.” Nigel said. “As for you, Indeara, that doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about Selah to contradict.”

“Selah?” Sedine asked. “What does that have to do with anything. Also, we train our talking pigs not to say anything when strangers are around.”

“She has a Selah accent. I just assumed she was from there.”

“I do?” Indeara asked.

“Yeah.” Nigel said. “Though it sounds a little different from what I’ve heard. A little closer to the exaggerated old-timey speech that playactors do.”

“The more we learn about you the more convinced I am that you’re a trouper that hit her head and somehow wandered off into the wilderness.” Vassa said, lightly punching her shoulder.

“Escaped actor or cultist. Which is it, Indeara?” Sedine asked.

“Uh. I don’t know.”

“So Nigel.” Sedine said, changing the subject. “Did you happen to see three people further down the mountain.”

“Your cousin and old buddies, Collis and Zircon? Yeah.” Nigel said.

“Huh. So we didn’t ruin some random group of travelers’ day.”