The Cursed Heart: Curse Words: Spellcasting for Fun and Prophet, #1

By Derin Edala

Kayden was six months old when the doctor found the curse in his heart. From then on, his life was a struggle to manage it, to keep it locked away and dormant and above all secret, dreading the day that it would finally break free and wreak havoc. Now he's fourteen, and that day has come.

 

Things look bad, but there's hope — the world's most prestigious magical school is willing to take him in, keep him safe, and pay his legal fees to avoid bankrupting his family. Most importantly, they can teach him to control his curse, to avoid ever hurting anyone else. It sounds far too good to be true, but what other option does he have?

 

Kayden quickly finds himself embroiled in a large political game he doesn't understand. But he'd better learn fast. Because the secrets of his new school run deeper than he ever expected, and his actions have far more dangerous consequences than he could ever have known.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derin Edala
• Release date: Mar 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215932889

Book preview

Trees Are Stupid

A Stranger in the Kitchen

Getting Into a Windowless Black Van

Registration

Maths and Spelunking

What To Do If You Get Lost

Sensible Decisions

Deathledge Confessions

Medical Attention

The Speedbump Problem

Consequences for Inappropriate Behaviour

Shopping

Cursed Magic

Political Terminology

The Truth About Matt

The Price of Magic

How To Avoid Parties

Primary School Algebra

Shopping II, the Return of Shopping

Solar Navigation

The Cowards of Omelas

Family Ties

Exceptionally Fun at Parties

Family Fights

Secrets Between Friends

Male Bonding

Familiar Circumstances

There Are No Jokes In This Chapter

Picking Up

Discourse

The Pit

Recovery

Correspondence

Acanthos and Madja

Experimentation

Water, Wine, Loaves and Fishes

Fiore and Ice

Staff Meetings

When Shall We Three Meet Again

The Palace

The Tower

Ultimatum

Diplomacy

A Complicated Array of Interlocking Systems

Options for Non-Player Characters

The Least Dangerous Option

The Price of Purity

Always Read the Terms And Conditions

Staff Shortage

Releasing Pressure

Unguarded

How To Play Chess

Befriending the Wind

Mind Under Matter

The Story As I Knew It

Bias

Comfort Zone

A Verdant Forest

The Secret

What Is Real

The Price of Suspicion

Negotiation

Real Magic

Ascension

Reasonable Caution

The Price of Magic

Plans and Surprises

Role Reversal

Preparations

The Party

The Truth

Aftermath

Reunion

The Trial

The Trial II, Even More Trial

Resolution

Fallout

Return to Refujeyo

Initiation

Choose Your Destiny

Beyond the Vortex

Epilogue

1: Trees are Stupid

There are some things in life that people learn without ever having to experience them. For me, one of those things really should have been ‘do not sneak out of a second story bedroom window if you have a broken leg’.

In my defence, I’d never had any trouble with the window before. The peach tree in our neighbour’s backyard was broad and healthy and one of its thick, strong branches was within easy jumping distance from my room. I’d silently slid the window open, checked to be sure that I was in the poorly-disguised undercover policeman’s blind spot, and was halfway out before I realised that balancing on the sill might be a little difficult with my right foot and calf encased in plaster.

I gripped both sides of the window frame and balanced as well as I could on my left foot. I’d always been small for my age, looking closer to eleven than fourteen, so the jump wouldn’t require very much strength. The branch, barely visible in the fading light, seemed to wave in time to the gunfire and screaming wafting up from my parents’ movie downstairs.

I leapt, and smacked right into the branch. It was a jump I could normally make without thinking about it, but the broken leg had thrown me off; I smacked chest-first into solid wood and instinctively wrapped my arms around it to keep from falling. The pain rushed through my ribs all the way to my spine, then faded, lingering for an extra moment in the little scar just to the left of my breastbone that I always tried to ignore. Not that I’d be able to ignore it any more, after the accident.

No, not accident. After the attack.

The back porch light was on. Most people would take this to be an accident, but I knew it was my parents’ plausibly deniable polite concession to the undercover police officers we were all pretending not to notice. They needed a clear view of the back door to make sure I was staying in the house like a good little boy. The light clearly illuminated the word WITCH that somebody had spraypainted across the back of our house, but it didn’t reach me in the tree. After a few seconds of stillness in which I waited for someone to move or shout, I felt it was safe to continue.

Arms and knees around the branch, I slid along it over the fence bordering our yard and towards the trunk of the tree. Our neighbours were still awake; light was visible around the kitchen blinds. This wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t all that late.

Normally I’d just drop to the ground and go ring the doorbell, but there was the issue of the police. Something else gave me pause, too; the small wreath of holly and mistletoe hung on the back door. That hurt more than hitting the branch had. Contrary to myth, neither holly nor mistletoe had ever stopped me from entering a building – I wouldn’t be able to enter most shops or cafes if it did – but the Nebits weren’t to know that. They’d always made a point of not warding their doors, and the fact that they’d done so now... well. I couldn’t really blame them, could I?

I switched to another branch, one stretching towards the Nebits’ house. The window I was aiming for wasn’t all that far from my own; it seemed like an awful lot of work to reach it by climbing a tree. If we’d been on the ground floor, I’d almost have been able to reach it from my own window.

I couldn’t quite reach it from the tree, though. Again, this was a jump I’d made dozens of times, but it had been hard enough jumping into the tree with a broken leg; even I wasn’t going to try to jump out of a tree at a closed window when I couldn’t even safely stand up. I could envision the result – me slamming face-first into the wall below the window, and the Nebits coming to investigate the noise and finding a broken, bleeding body under their peach tree. Not an ideal situation.

Instead, I plucked a twig from the tree and threw it at the window. A moment later, it opened.

Melissa was silhouetted in her bedroom light, so I couldn’t see much more than the halo of brown hair she was in the process of brushing, but I knew she was glaring at me. Melissa has the kind of glare you can feel through lead walls. When she grows up and has kids, they’re going to be the most well-behaved children in the world.

Kayden, what the hell?

Are you going to let me in or not?

You shouldn’t be here! You’re under house arrest!

"I know, that’s why I’m in a tree. But it is Saturday."

Apparently, Melissa couldn’t argue with that logic. She fetched the usual climbing rope from her closet and tossed one end to me. I tied it to the tree, slid my way over to the window, and climbed in.

Are you alright? Melissa asked, checking over my arms for scratches and bruises. I didn’t pull away; Melissa gets focused when she’s worried, and it’s generally best not to get in her way. There were dark shadows under her eyes, I noticed, and her normally rosy, freckled cheeks were pale; had she lost sleep over me?

I shrugged. They discharged me, so nothing can be too wrong with me. It’s not the first fall I’ve taken.

You know what I meant.

I shrugged again.

We tried to visit you, you know. They had you in some kind of high security ward and Chelsea almost got caught trying to pickpocket a nurse’s keycard.

I suppressed a chuckle. Of course she did. She’s not here yet?

She was grounded after the keycard thing, so I don’t think she’ll be able to convince her mum to –

Just then, Melissa’s bedroom door opened. Don’t tell my mum I’m here, Chelsea said quietly. I’m grounded.

Melissa threw up her arms. Did anyone in this neighbourhood not sneak out of their bedroom window today?

Um, you didn’t, I pointed out.

Neither did I, Chelsea said. I’m not an idiot. I used our bathroom window. First floor.

Well la-de-da, Miss Police-Aren’t-Watching-My-House, I said, rolling my eyes.

Kayden, did you climb a tree in your pyjamas? Chelsea asked.

I glanced down at myself. Maybe.

You’ve lost a button.

Chelsea, unlike Melissa and I, was not in her pyjamas. She was wearing a flannel shirt that I was pretty sure was mine. Despite her being a year younger than me, we were exactly the same size, and more than once she’d joked about getting me a jaw-length blonde wig and herself a shorter brown one to see how long we could pretend to be each other before someone noticed. Said jokes were getting worryingly serious.

It’s your turn to hide the tracker, Chelsea reminded me.

Melissa glared at her. That stupid tracker game created this mess, and you still expect him to play?

That’s pretty insensitive, Chel, I agreed. Especially since I’ve already hidden it. You think the school roof was a clever hiding spot? Oh, man. You are in for a wake-up call.

She frowned. You’re bluffing, she said. You haven’t had a chance to hide anything. They took you straight home from the hospi – She put her face in her hands and groaned. You found the tracker before you ended up in hospital. You had it with you. And the only other places you’ve been are your house, and a high security ward in the hospital. And you know better than to hide it in your house.

I spread my hands. "Hey, the circumstances aren’t my fault. If you want to find it, might I suggest stealing a nurse’s keycard? Oh wait."

You’re both crazy, Melissa said.

That’s a weird way to pronounce ‘incredibly awesome’, Chelsea said. When does the cast come off?

In another week and a half.

Just in time for school holidays!

I’m suspended anyway, so it’s kind of a moot point.

We fell silent. None of us wanted to talk about the next obvious point of conversation.

Eventually, Melissa asked, What about after the school holidays?

I shrugged. They haven’t set a date for the trial or anything yet, so...

So you’ll probably get a super long holiday before you’re found innocent and everything goes back to normal! Chelsea threw an arm over my shoulders. I’m so jealous.

I shrugged her off. I’m not innocent. My victim –

Victim! Chelsea scoffed. You know this is Matt Parker you’re talking about, right? If I’d been up there I’d have pushed him off myself, curse or no curse.

You’re innocent, Melissa said. You know the law. Accidental consequences of curses can’t be prosecuted, unless the carrier of the curse was knowledgeably negligent.

Fourteen-year-olds shouldn’t use words like ‘negligent’, Chelsea frowned. You sound like my dad.

Melissa ignored her. You’ve had that curse stuck in your heart since before you could walk, and nobody could ever say you were negligent. It’s done absolutely nothing for fourteen years. No causing sickness, no turning things to gold, it doesn’t even sour milk. There was absolutely no way you could have predicted it to lash out here.

That’s the point, I said. I should have expected it to lash out, because I should always be expecting it to lash out. My control slipped, and now everyone knows I put that jerk in hospital. He nearly died, you know. I nearly killed him.

Your curse nearly killed him, Melissa corrected.

I would have nearly killed him if I got the chance, Chelsea shrugged. Don’t even need a curse. I would’ve just hit him.

Everyone knows that Matt’s injuries are more self-inflicted than anything, Melissa added. Nobody blames you for any of this.

Then why is there a wreath on your door? I asked.

Melissa looked away. My parents are idiots.

No, your parents are scared, and they’re right. Your family have known about my curse since I got it. Your parents never had a problem with it, or with me, until now. But now they finally see what it means, what it can do, and they want nothing to do with me. They think I could hurt you, and they’re right. I could kill both of you without warning. Doesn’t that bother you?

The two girls stared at me, completely unimpressed. Chelsea rolled her eyes.

Why would that bother us? Melissa asked. It’s not exactly new information.

You’ve always known about the curse, but now that it’s active and –

Melissa waved me silent. Not the curse. I mean in general. We’re all capable of killing each other if we want. You don’t need a curse for that. Five minutes ago I threw you a rope to climb in my window; I could’ve untied my end and you could very easily have died. Does that bother you?

That’s different.

No, it isn’t. I’m not saying your curse doesn’t suck, I’m just saying it doesn’t make you a terrifying monster, and anybody who looks at you differently now that it’s attacked Matt is an idiot for not taking it seriously and getting over it years ago.

That’s easy for us to say, Chelsea said, but to be fair, people have been kind of freaking out. Your family and mine were the only ones around here who ever really knew about the curse. To everyone else, it kind of... she shrugged.

Looks like I lied to them about something really dangerous I was carrying around the neighbourhood? I asked.

... Kind of, yeah. But they’ll get over it.

What’s the internet look like? The police confiscated my phone and I haven’t been online since the whole thing happened.

The girls exchanged a worried glance.

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Mum turned our wi-fi off. I don’t think she wants me to see what people are saying.

You don’t want to see what people are saying, Melissa said quickly.

Don’t worry about it, Chelsea said. If anyone gives you trouble, point at them and babble nonsense until they run screaming.

"Yeah, because that would help his court case," Melissa said.

Nobody can give me any trouble. I’m not supposed to leave the house. Actually, I should probably get back before Mum and Dad notice I’m missing.

Righto. Liss, do you have any more rope? Chelsea headed for the window.

What are you doing? I asked.

Stringing a rope from the tree to your window. Or did you have another plan for getting back in with that? She nudged my cast with her toe. Yeah, that’s what I thought. She took a rope from Melissa, slipped easily out the window and within seconds was walking along the tree branch outside.

I’ll never get how you two can do that, Melissa remarked.

It’s easy. It’s just one foot in front of the other. Until you slip and break a leg.

Yeah, I think I’ll stick to the ground like a normal person, thanks.

Sounds boring.

Melissa chuckled and shoved me playfully. I grinned, trying to keep the mood light. Trying not to think about the future.

Whether I was found guilty of assault or not, I was dangerous, and now the whole street and the whole school knew it. There was no going back from that.

And I didn’t know what to do.

2: A Stranger in the Kitchen

It should be illegal to visit anyone before midday on a Sunday.

Apparently this opinion wasn’t universal, because I dragged my eyes open at eight in the morning to the sound of a strange voice in the kitchen. I dressed quickly, then crept downstairs as quietly as I could.

... the facilities are of a very high standard, although of course the academics do tend to be focused on – oh, here he is! It’s Kayden, right? The stranger at the table met my eyes and smiled.

I froze in the doorway. The man was easily six foot tall, well-built, and looked very ill at ease in his perfectly fitted suit. His large hands almost completely concealed the mug of tea he was clutching. My first impression of ‘out-of-place bikie’ was helped by his ponytail and the network of dark blue tattooed lines that melted into the dark skin of his face and neck. But what had caught my eye was the top of a tattoo peeking out over his collar. Unlike the man’s other tattoos, this one was milk-white and drawn in fine, precise lines that hadn’t blended or faded at all. Most of the tattoo was hidden by his shirt, but the style was unmistakeable to anyone who had seen it before. It was the same style as the tattoo that I’d seen at every doctor’s appointment since I was a baby, tattooed on my magical GP’s arm.

It was a magemark. This man was a mage.

I glanced at Mum and Dad, sitting on the opposite side of the table. They were poring over a bunch of papers; pamphlets, it looked like. Mum glanced up at me.

Crutches, she reminded me.

I don’t need them.

The doctors think you do.

I rolled my eyes and sat down as a compromise. I didn’t want to be near the mage, but it didn’t really matter; I was sure he could kill me at a distance if he wanted to.

Not that I’d ever had any trouble with mages. I saw them around town occasionally; snooty people with white designs on their skin hurrying off to somewhere very important. But that was before everyone knew about my curse. The only mage who’d known about my curse before the school thing had been my doctor, Doctor Marley, and his entire job was to help people like me. The thing about mages was... well, they weren’t supposed to hurt people, but you heard stories. Like the kid with the Midas hand who they said accidentally turned his mother to gold, and the next day he was dead and people said they’d seen a couple of people with mage marks breaking into his house.

Doctor Marley had once told me that he helped people like me because when someone became a mage, they accepted responsibility for the effects of magic. And if a curse that couldn’t be removed started hurting people, then I supposed...

But Mum and Dad didn’t look worried. I picked up one of the pamphlets.

Skolala Refujeyo, I read. What’s this? What’s going on?

The name is a bit of a handful, the man admitted.

This is Mr Cooper, Dad said. He’s here to talk to you about school.

I’m just suspended, I said defensively. It happens.

In fact, I’m here to talk to you about a different school, Mr Cooper said. I understand that you have a minor legal problem.

I wouldn’t call it minor, Dad muttered.

Do you have paid legal representation? Mr Cooper pressed. A lawyer who’s an expert in these sorts of matters?

We’re looking into it, Mum said. But the cost...

Skolala Refujeyo has a legal team, Mr Cooper continued. They’re specialists in issues of magical law, and extremely competent in their field. We are the most prestigious mage school in the entire world, and when you gather a lot of teenagers together and teach them how to use magic, such legal expertise is necessary. They’re willing to step in and take your case. The issue is, of course, the cost.

We’ll mortgage the house if we have to, Dad said.

That shouldn’t be necessary, Mr Cooper said. There is a workaround.

What do you mean, a workaround?

Our legal team are one of the free services provided to students at Refujeyo. Our school fees are of course very high, so such things are really a courtesy footnote to a lot of the students, but I’m here today to offer Kayden a scholarship. He drew a form out of the mess of papers on the table without looking and slid it towards us. The scholarship covers tuition, as well as a modest food and school supply budget. There will be some out-of-pocket costs, but it should work out cheaper than feeding and clothing him at home.

If I go to your school, I get really good free lawyers for my case? I asked.

Yes.

How long do I have to go?

Six months. If you attend our school for one semester, our lawyers can represent your case free of charge.

Where is this school? Mum asked.

I’m afraid I can’t tell you. This is a place where a lot of very important young people from all over the world gather to learn very complicated things; its secrecy is for their protection. I can tell you that transportation will not be a problem. Students board on campus during the school term, of course.

I looked through a pamphlet. It had never really occurred to me that mages had to learn their magic somewhere, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of being surrounded by them. I had a hard enough time making friends at school when no one knew I was cursed. A bunch of rich magical teenagers who would definitely know? No thanks.

Why? I asked. What’s in any of this for you?

You have a magical problem, Mr Cooper said simply. Magic is our problem.

So you’re offering him this very fancy scholarship to this very expensive school to... do what, exactly? Kayden’s no mage. There’s no magical blood in my family, or Alice’s here. You want him to go to this school he can’t benefit from just so you can offer him help with legal trouble out of the goodness of your heart?

Who said we have nothing to teach him? Mr Cooper asked. When I said that magic is our problem, I did not mean that petty local legal concerns are our problem. I meant what I said. There is a curse buried in your child’s heart. The fact that it’s still there leads me to believe that it can’t be safely removed in the hospital, yes?

You can remove it? I asked.

Probably not. But we can probably teach you to control it. We might be able to teach you how to manage it so that it doesn’t hurt anyone else. So that you don’t put any other classmates in hospital.

Mum stood up. That wasn’t Kayden’s fault!

Whether or not it was his fault, it happened. This curse is active, and it is dangerous. We have a shared problem, and there is a very good chance that we can make this problem go away.

A good chance? I asked. Not a certainty?

He shook his head. Every curse is different. I can make no promises. But if we don’t try this, you’re going to end up in court without the best lawyers you could have, and you have a higher chance of ending up in juvenile detention. And if you do win your case, that curse will still be there, ready to attack again and ruin more lives, including yours.

I considered this. If I won... then I’d still be the cursed kid. I’d still be dangerous. And I’d eventually graduate high school and try to get a job, and still be dangerous. Who was going to hire someone with a curse that might randomly flare up and attack someone? I’d be dangerous, and potentially notorious, my whole life.

Okay, I said. I’ll do it.

Mum frowned at me. We’ll discuss the issue, she assured Mr Cooper. It’s a big decision.

He nodded. There’s no rush. I pick up the Australian new students one week before term starts; you have until then to decide. It was nice to meet you, Kayden.

Mr Cooper shook my dad’s hand and left. We watched him climb into a small black van and drive off. I tried to ignore how all the van’s passenger windows were painted over.

Mum hadn’t come to the door. She was picking through the papers on the table, her lips pursed. I walked over.

Crutches, she said without looking up.

I managed to walk downstairs without them, I pointed out. On a level floor I don’t think I need –

Crutches.

They’re upstairs.

Gerald?

Dad nodded and headed up to fetch them.

I don’t like this, Mum said. Boarding school? No.

I know, I said, sitting down. But do we have a choice?

You’d be living away from us.

I know.

You’d be living away from Melissa and Chelsea.

I swallowed. I know. But what other option do we have? Wait this out, hope I get found innocent, and then I just... go back to school like nothing happened?

We move house, Mum said promptly. Your Aunt Rebecca has a little cottage on the beach that we can rent until we find somewhere more permanent. I can work from home, and your father can –

You’ve planned this, haven’t you?

I have a cursed child, Kayden. Of course I’ve planned this.

We’d still be moving away from all our friends, so what’s the difference between that and boarding school?

The difference is that we’d be together as a family. You’re fourteen; you shouldn’t be getting snatched from your home like this.

I rolled my eyes. It’s just school, not jail.

Isn’t it? She fixed her bright eyes on me. This happens, and a nice, friendly mage comes over and offers to take you away to a hidden location where a lot of mages can keep an eye on you? That sounds exactly like a jail.

It sounds like people I can’t hurt, I pointed out. Unlike you or dad. And it’s only six months. After that, when I come back with this thing under control, we can go live in Aunt Rebecca’s cottage if you want. I tried to smile.

Mum looked back down at the piece of paper explaining the scholarship. I won’t stop you, she said, but promise me you’ll think long and hard about this before deciding on anything.

I nodded. Of course.

But there was nothing to think about.

3: Getting Into a Windowless Black Van

It was raining when Mr Cooper pulled up once again in his little black van. Apart from Chelsea and Melissa, my parents, and a young man who’d been loitering at the bus stop all day but was Definitely Not An Undercover Policeman, Don’t Be Absurd, the streets were deserted. At least Chelsea and Melissa’s parents had let them come and say goodbye; that was something. I thought I could feel the eyes of neighbours on us, peeking through curtains and around corners. Waiting for me to climb into the van and out of their lives. I was probably imagining it.

The things I was taking with me fit into a single suitcase. Electronics were banned and my scholarship included a stipend for new school supplies, so there wasn’t much to take except clothes and mementos. I could have taken stationary and stuff, but I wasn’t sure what I’d need. Did mages do the whole quill-and-ink thing like in the stories? Maybe they did, if we weren’t allowed electronics. It’d be easier to just figure everything out and buy it at the school.

Mr Cooper stepped out of the van, gave me a bright smile and offered one hand to help with my bag. I handed it to Dad instead. Mr Cooper didn’t seem offended; he just opened the back of the van for Dad. I tried to ignore how dark it looked in there.

Chelsea threw her arms around me and squeezed. Ugh, you’re actually going off on a magical adventure! she groaned. I’m so jealous!

There’s absolutely nothing in the entire world that can dent your optimism, is there? I asked weakly, trying to draw a full breath.

Your heart’s full of curses. Mine’s full of positivity.

"I only have one curse."

Still too many. She let go, making room for Melissa to step forward and hug me rather more gently.

Try not to die, Melissa advised solemnly.

It’s just a school, I pointed out. You don’t all have to be so dramatic.

I’m sorry, did you just accuse us of being dramatic? You? Kayden, King of Drama? Melissa pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and swayed in an exaggerated swoon. So cursèd am I, so burdened with this potential for harm. Stay back, stay back! Lest the dark spirit within me throw YOU off a school roof, too! She tottered backwards, gave a gasp, and fell back into Chelsea’s arms.

I looked at Mum. Why are your friends’ children idiots? I asked.

Because they had a really terrible role model, she said, raising an eyebrow.

Aww, you called me a role model. You do respect me.

She swept me up into a hug. Write often, she said, kissing my forehead. If we don’t hear from you for a week, your Dad will buy a gun on the black market and track the school down.

I’d better remember to write then, I said. Could be a bit awkward otherwise. I glanced at Dad, who winked and mimed shooting invisible enemies.

Are you ready? Mr Cooper asked.

I nodded, letting go of Mum. Dad gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze as I climbed into the back of the van.

The van was, as I’d expected, full of seats and not much else. There was a small window in the wall separating the back from the front; I grabbed a seat where I could see the road over Mr Cooper’s shoulder.

We’re picking up two more new students today, Mr Cooper explained as he started the engine. The older students will arrive on the weekend before school, but we like to give newcomers a bit of time to get oriented. I think you and the other Australian initiates might be the earliest arrivals this year.

How big is the school? I asked.

That’s... kind of hard to answer. Refujeyo is an international school and parts of it are... segmented. But there’s plenty of space, and we try not to let the classes get bigger than twenty students, except in special circumstances.

I felt my eyebrows shoot up of their own accord. Only twenty per class?

We try, he shrugged. It’s not always possible. But magical classes benefit from supervision. I know you don’t intend to become a mage, but you’ll have to take the basic magical theory classes anyway; they’re a core part of the curriculum, along with maths, science, all that. English isn’t a core subject for obvious reasons, but if you want to go back to common school next year and are afraid of falling behind we can get you into –

It’s fine, I said quickly. I’m sure I can catch up on English next year.

In the rearview mirror, I saw him hide a smile.

I sat back in my seat, realising how little I knew about the place I was going. There had been an awful lot of papers and pamphlets; I’d read them all and they seemed very informative at the time, but on reflection they hadn’t really said a whole lot. I didn’t know what kind of uniform the school had or even what sort of stationary they used. I didn’t know the school’s size or much about the curriculum. I did know that the school’s official language was Ido, but that I’d be fine with just English. I did know what my scholarship did and didn’t cover, and what I had and hadn’t been allowed to bring. Come to think of it, I knew what I needed to know to prepare and get in the van, and very little else.

I leaned forward again, glanced outside, and immediately forgot what I’d been meaning to ask. When I’d zoned out about a minute before, we’d been driving through town. Now, all I saw was the endless red expanse of the Australian desert. Of course, a lot of Australia is desert, but if there had been any in my hometown I was pretty sure I would have noticed.

Where are we? I asked.

At our next pickup, Mr Cooper said. Wait here. He got out, and I leaned forward through the little window to get a better view. Yep... that sure was desert. Sand and scrub bush and all that. I looked harder, searching for some kind of clue about how exactly we’d gotten there so fast that was more satisfying than just wiggling my fingers and saying ‘maaaagic’ in a spooky voice, but I wasn’t really an expert on deserts.

Before I could think about it too hard, the back of the van opened, and I was distracted by the scruffily dressed girl who clambered in, clutching a small backpack to her chest with one arm. She looked about my age, was aboriginal, and didn’t seem half as intimidated or confused by the whole situation as I had been. Her curly hair was cut to her jaw length, and she blew a wisp of it out of her face as she took a seat in the back of the van, hugged the backpack to her chest, and avoided looking at me. But that was all background detail to what I’d just noticed.

Among the dark freckles on her cheeks was a single pale mark, just under her right eye. A bit of raised skin; it looked like a small imperfection, maybe a tiny wart or scar. But I knew better. I saw the same mark every time I looked down at my own chest.

It was a witch mark. The entrance wound for a curse.

This girl was like me.

She shot me a glare, and I realised I’d been staring. I looked hurriedly away, my mind racing. Mr Cooper had said we’d be picking up other students, but I’d assumed he meant mage students, not people like me. On, man; it must really suck to have a curse in your eye. The one in my heart was bad enough, but at least I could cover that with a shirt and no one could tell. Anyone who knew what a witch mark looked like would see what this girl was right away.

I’d never met another cursed person before. Not knowingly, anyway; I figured there were probably other people like me around town, carrying on in secret, but we didn’t exactly have support groups. This girl was the first person like me I’d knowingly met, and I wanted to ask her everything – what does your curse do? How long have you had it? Why are you in this van – did something go wrong for you, too?

Instead, I tried, My name’s Kayden, in the wobbly voice of an idiot.

Kylie, she replied quietly, hugging her bag tighter. She didn’t seem to want to look me in the eye. Or talk at all.

I realised with a start that she had no idea that I was like her. Should I tell her? ‘Hey, guess what; I’m cursed’? Seemed a little blunt. I couldn’t exactly casually let her see my mark; taking my shirt off in a windowless van with a strange girl seemed like the wrong move.

The van stopped again. I looked up; we weren’t in the desert any more. Somewhere on our journey, the air had cooled and the silence had been replaced with the sound of heavy traffic; we were in a city, although I wasn’t sure which one.

Last passenger, Mr Cooper announced, and got out of the van.

Did you see how we got here so fast? I asked Kylie. She shook her head.

The last person to get in the van was, by all rights, more interesting-looking than Kylie or me, although his lack of any apparent witch mark made him less interesting in my personal book. He was tall, thin, and gave the distinct impression of someone who, when he was old enough to grow a proper beard, would immediately shape it into a goatee. He was dressed in the neat dark pants and shirt of someone who wants to look as formal as possible without going so far as to wear an actual suit, and the suitcase in his hands was thin, high quality, and leather. As an adult he’d probably look incredibly distinguished, but as he was about my age, the effect was more like a very tall ventriloquist’s dummy.

I’m Max, he said, giving us both a sort of greeting nod, which I found myself returning automatically.

Kayden, I replied.

Kylie, Kylie said, still staring straight ahead.

Max’s eyes locked on the witch mark on Kylie’s face, and I knew immediately that he wasn’t cursed. The expression on his face didn’t reflect the kind of surprise and delight that I’d felt. He stared at Kylie more like she was an interesting scientific specimen.

Excuse me, he said, but do you happen to be carrying a curse?

Do you happen to be carrying manners? she snapped back without looking at him, her hands clenched so tightly that they shook.

Max flushed and looked away. Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Honestly, I admire the strength of anybody who can carry such a burden. How long have you – ?

Dude, I said, she obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.

Of course, he said, falling silent. The van trundled silently on while Max kept sneaking glances at Kylie’s witch mark. I figured I could probably break the tension by revealing that I was cursed too and make Max the odd one out, but if people were going to start looking at me like that when they found out... instead I contented myself with glaring sharply at him whenever he started staring.

Fortunately, the ride wasn’t very long. When I thought to look out the windscreen again, there was no trace of the city; we drove through a valley of green grass dotted with flowers. The van stopped, and moments later, Mr Cooper was opening the doors.

Welcome to your new school!

4: Registration

It seemed somewhat ridiculous to point out that the valley looked nothing like a school, so I didn’t. Once we were outside the van, it became clear just how nauseatingly idyllic the place was. The grass under my feet was bright green and ridiculously soft, and the sun above was at just the right angle to provide perfect lighting even though we were surrounded on all sides by high grey cliffs. I eyed the cliffs for handholds and quickly dismissed them as unclimbable without proper equipment. Down one end, a small waterfall splashed into a little stream, which meandered through the flower-dotted grass for a bit before vanishing into a crack in the cliff.

Did anyone see how he got the van in here? I asked. Kylie shrugged.

Follow me, please, Mr Cooper said, striding purposefully towards what I’d taken to be a deep shadow in a cliff face, but turned out to be a tunnel. We all grabbed our bags and followed him.

The entrance was narrow but the tunnel quickly widened, a natural fissure giving way to hewn stone walls. Every few metres a glowing blue crystal about the size of my fist was set into the wall.

Anywhere with blue lighting is a general area, Mr Cooper explained. Other colours mean restrictions. But as initiates, in your first six months, you won’t need to worry about them much.

Where are we going? I asked.

"To the cafeteria and initiate dormitories. I need to speak to you each individually and register you in the school system properly. You’ll each have an opportunity to settle in while I’m registering the others.

There won’t be very many initiates here yet, so you’ll probably have first claim to whatever dormitories you want. When they – ah, here we are.

The passage forked into two tunnels. Mr Cooper took the left and lead us into a large stone hall with several long wooden tables running through the middle. The outside of the room was ringed with more tables, but these ones were covered in white tablecloths and laden with cutlery. A few displayed food.

There’ll be a better selection of food once all the students are back, Mr Cooper explained. We do a lighter fare during the holidays; it’s a waste of food otherwise. Nonus, if you would –

My name’s Max.

Very well. Max, if you would come with me? He led Max back out of the room, leaving Kylie and me to stare at a table of assorted cakes and sandwiches.

I’m like you, I told Kylie the moment we were alone.

What?

I’m like you. I lifted my shirt just high enough for her to see the witch mark. I’m cursed, too. I think it’s pretty obvious that Max isn’t, but two out of three isn’t...

I trailed off. Kylie’s expression reflected none of the surprise and gratitude I’d felt in seeing her mark. It was a mask of betrayal and disgust.

I dropped my shirt back down. I just thought you should know, I finished weakly.

But I wasn’t worth telling in the van when that creep was staring at me, she said evenly, selecting a tomato sandwich and dropping it onto a plate. I guess you didn’t want to be too uncomfortable, hmm? Better let someone else deal with that. Am I just supposed to keep your secret now?

What? No. No, it’s... it’s not a secret. Any more. How about this – I’ll tell you how I ended up here, if you tell me how you ended up here.

No thanks, Kylie said, adding an apple to her plate and wandering over to a table. Trying not to look too upset, I concentrated on getting some food for myself, then tried to choose a seat in the vast hall that didn’t look like I was trying to either crowd Kylie or avoid her. This took quite some time, so by the time I’d picked my way through all the parts of the salad I’d chosen that I actually wanted to eat, Max had returned and Mr Cooper was calling me over.

He led me into a small office. At least I assumed it was an office; the hand-carved stone walls of a vast underground complex worked great for large eating halls but tended to look a but silly surrounding flimsy filing cabinets and paper-strewn desks. The glowing crystal lighting this room wasn’t just a fist-sized chunk, but a flat sheet about the size of a small window, glowing faintly blue. Somebody had put a window frame over it to complete the illusion. I tried not to look amused.

Mr Cooper handed me a thick piece of clear perspex, about the size of an A5 piece of paper. There was the red outline of a hand on it. I pressed my own hand over the outline; the outline filled in red for a moment, then vanished.

This is your tablet, Mr Cooper said. From now on, it’ll only respond to your touch.

I inspected the device. It still just looked like a piece of perspex, but within it, some icons had formed, like a computer desktop. I thought we couldn’t have electronics here, I said.

Students aren’t permitted to bring in electronics from outside, Mr Cooper corrected. The systems the school uses are not compatible with outside electronics and there have been... incidents. For the same reason, you won’t be able to access the internet from school grounds; we have our own intranet, build on a very different system.

That sounded like bullshit to me – if the systems weren’t compatible, I didn’t see how one would affect the other at all – but I didn’t know much about electronics. The basics of the device weren’t hard to figure out; I found the word processor, camera and intranet browser within about thirty seconds.

There’s also some language translation software, Mr Cooper said, tapping a capital A in the corner of the screen. You should be able to get by with just English for six months, but this is an international school, so you’ll need that to talk to some of the students and teachers. If you continue to study next year, you’ll be expected to start learning Ido, of course.

I only agreed to six months.

Of course. Touch your palm to this screen as well, please? He held out a second perspex screen with a hand outline on it.

I did so. Why?

It’s to put your imprint into our school system. So you can open locked doors and soforth, to areas you have access to. I just need to confirm some of your details. Your birthday is January fourth?

Yes.

Your blood type is A negative, and you have no health conditions?

Only this, I said, tapping my chest. I’d just discovered that my tablet had minesweeper on it.

Great! Now, your name...

I braced myself. I hadn’t been looking forward to this part.

I understand that you don’t use your birth name, correct?

That’s right.

The would you prefer to be registered in our system under the name you use instead?

I looked up. You can do that?

Oh, yes. You’d be surprised just how many students don’t use the names they were given at birth here. A lot of the older mage families have legacy names; once they pick who will be the family mage in a generation, that child takes on the family mage name instead of their childhood name, so our systems are developed with this in mind. I’ve taught four generations of Quartez girls who, so far as I know, are all named Um Dourado.

So even the teachers can’t tell who they were born as?

Mr Cooper shrugged. There’s a reference number somewhere in the system to link our student’s identities with their national legal identities, so school records and soforth can be transferred. But it doesn’t check actual details, which is why I have to confirm everything manually. Do you want me to put you down as Kayden?

Yes, please.

I’ll get you to put the name in, to make sure the spelling’s right. He handed me his tablet. I erased KELSIE MARIE JAMES, replaced it with KAYDEN MARK JAMES, and handed it back.

If you’ll look at me, I need a photograph for the records, he said, raising the perspex to make a little window between us. I did my best to look like someone who didn’t just clamber out of a mysterious van and find themselves in a network of strange caves until he lowered it again.

Great! Almost done...

When I walked back into the cafeteria, Max and Kylie were engaged in conversation. They didn’t seem to be fighting, which I supposed was a good sign. Mr Cooper called Kylie away, leaving me and Max alone.

He grinned at me, looking a lot more relaxed than he had in the van. Kayden! How are you liking Skolala Refujeyo so far?

Well, the two rooms I’ve seen sure are fascinating, I said. How about you?

I’m ready to explore, now that we have maps, he said, withdrawing his tablet from his little suitcase. Should we go find a dormitory to put our stuff in?

Yeah, let’s. I pulled up the map on my own tablet and realised immediately that it wasn’t a very good one. It centred on where I was, showing me the area around me in a radius of about 50m, but there didn’t seem to be any way to view the whole school. I found a drop-down menu on one side and selected ‘initiate – dormitories’. A red line appeared on the map, indicating the path I should take.

Oh, it’s a GPS, I muttered as we left the cafeteria. I wonder if there’s an option to give it a snarky voice.

The map led us through a couple of winding tunnels to a long, perfectly straight hall, with an actual wooden floor instead of stone worn smooth by generations of feet. The crystals lighting the path were blue, the colour of universal access, and the walls were lined with seemingly endless wooden doors, each with an A5-sized piece of transparent perspex in the middle. Each panel had the outline of a spread hand on it. I wandered over to touch one, but Max grabbed my wrist.

We should probably read the instructions first, he pointed out, searching through something on his tablet.

I looked meaningfully at the hand outline on the panel. You know, I think we might be able to figure it out, I said.

And what happens if, when you touch it, it locks that room to you, like with these? he asked, waving his tablet. What if the rooms are different sized, with different facilities? Do you want to be stuck in the first room you happened to see?

I rolled my eyes and stepped back while he skimmed through detailed documents on how doors worked.

Okay, he said, it should be fine.

I pressed my hand to the panel and opened the door.

The room inside looked impractically designed. There was a straight expanse down the middle of the room a couple of metres wide, and the door at the other end was slightly ajar, revealing a bathroom. The middle area was lined with six beds, three to a side, each one made up with a very tacky quilt cover that matched an equally tacky set of bed curtains. The one to my immediate right had a pale blue bedspread covered in gold and silver stars with matching blue curtains; the one to my left was black with some kind of magic circle design stitched into it, and had multiple layers of black and silver gauze for curtains as if a thirteen-year-old goth girl had been given a credit card in the manchester department and told to go nuts. The one behind that was a plain cream colour, but what looked like alchemical formulae had been printed on the curtains like a very intrusive study aid.

But the thing that was odd about the beds wasn’t their presumably-hilarious smattering of vaguely magical-themed designs; it was that they weren’t against the walls. Their curtains were open, and beyond each bed I could see a chest of drawers, a desk and chair; a little private space for the bed’s occupant, separated from the space of the next bed’s occupant by a wall of stone. I was relieved to see that everyone had some personal space, but I figured there was an easier way to get that effect than by putting such a space behind a bed they’d have to climb over to get into it. Perhaps by using an amazing new invention known as a ‘door’.

I reached out to smooth a pillow, only for my fingers to slam into something invisible and unyielding.

There’s a force field there, Max remarked drily as I yelped and stuck my fingers in my mouth. He scrolled through a document on his tablet. Apparently only the owner of the bed can move through it.

And how do we get to be the owner of a bed, smart guy? I mumbled around my fingers.

Access panel, he said, pointing out yet more little perspex panels on the stone next to the beds that I hadn’t noticed. You can claim whatever bed you want, but only have one bed at a time. So if you touch a new panel, you relinquish your claim to the previous one. He read further. Oh, and the dorm room locks, too. I was worried about that. If a bed’s claimed, only someone with a bed claimed in the room can open it. So if you want to share the room with someone else, you have to let them in so they can claim a bed, then the room door will open for them, too. So don’t leave your stuff in one room and then go claim a bed in another, I guess.

I glanced around the room. Six beds. That was a lot of roommates.

Are all the rooms the same size? I asked.

They range from four to twelve beds, apparently. The only real difference I can find is the more beds, the bigger and nicer the bathrooms, which makes sense I suppose. I happen to know that the number of initiates this time of year is really low, so I think we’re going to have a lot more rooms than we need. I’m going to claim a bedroom with lots of beds, since it won’t fill up anyway and I get a super nice bathroom.

You’ve thought this out.

Rooms with ten or twelve beds come with televisions and coffee machines, he said, like this was a big deal.

Great. I glanced around the room once more, taking in the tacky bedspreads, the stone walls, and the softly glowing crystals. For the next six months this, I supposed, was my home.

5: Maths and Spelunking

We were looking at our third dormitory when Kylie caught up with us.

This whole place is abandoned, she announced. I’ve seen nobody except you guys. That’s weird.

It can’t be abandoned, Max said. It’s just sparsely populated at the moment. If it was abandoned, who’s making the food?

Don’t mind him, he’s an obsessive pedant, I stage-whispered to Kylie.

She ignored me.What are you guys doing?

Looking at this room for no reason, I said. I want the smallest room possible and he wants the biggest room possible, so it seems like counting all the beds should be a pretty quick and efficient process, but instead we’re standing around these eight beds while this guy does maths.

I just think that it’s important to pay attention to the actual position of the rooms, Max insisted. If all the large rooms are a twenty minute walk from the cafeteria, it’s worth settling for a smaller one. And as initiates, almost all of our lessons will be in a small group of classrooms, so staying near those is also a good bet, and they’re not rooms we can just transfer into later because they’re going to fill up fast when other students start arriving. He frowned at the map. Perhaps we should just put our things in some acceptable rooms for now and spend the next few days walking the halls to get a better idea of actual travel distances.

Have fun doing that, I said. I’m going to spend the next few days playing minesweeper. Which was a lie. Of course I was going to be exploring. But I wasn’t going to be using maths to do it.

What sort of room are you looking for? Max asked Kylie.

I’m not sure. I was hoping to just find some nice girls and room with them, but nobody’s here yet. She was clenching her fists tightly, I noticed. Like me, she was going to be among total strangers.

Max nodded. Well, as a witch, I’m sure you –

Don’t call her that, I snapped.

He frowned. It’s an academic term.

Well, it’s an academic term you can shove up your arse. Being a ‘witch’ implies going around and cursing people or something, like it’s her fault, but it isn’t. It’s just something the world did to her.

I prefer the term ‘witch’, actually, Kylie said. When people say I’m ‘cursed’, they start to feel sorry for me and say stupid things like ‘oh, you’re so brave for carrying on’, like they’re surprised someone can be so unfortunate and not commit suicide or something. ‘Witch’ has more power in it. For the first time, she met my eyes without glaring at me. A challenge.

I crossed my arms and looked at Max. Well I guess that’s none of my business, but just so you know, I’m cursed as well, and if you call me a ‘witch’ you’re going to get punched.

Uh... noted, Max said, looking puzzled. He probably thought I didn’t notice the way his eyes skimmed up and down my body, like he’d be able to find my witch mark through my clothes.

Before he could ask any stupid questions, I pressed my hand against the nearest bed-claiming panel, waited for it to turn green to announce that the bed had been claimed, and tossed my bag onto it. I’m off to find the supply shop, I announced. You guys have fun dorm-hunting.

I headed out into the corridor, went to bring up my map, and hesitated. The situation might suck, but I was in a new, exciting location; why spoil that with maps? I should be able to find my way around. It was what I did.

Where would a shop be? Heading down the hall in one direction would take me to the area with the cafeteria. Heading the other way would take me... to the classrooms, probably? Classrooms would be near the rooms, right? No; classrooms would be near the cafeteria, so students could have lunch and get to their next class without sprinting halfway across the school. And Mr Cooper’s little office had been off the cafeteria; teacher offices would probably be near their classrooms. And the shop would be... near Reception? There didn’t seem to be a Reception area; we’d been taken straight through to the cafeteria. Or maybe the Reception area just wasn’t staffed in the middle of the school holidays.

Well, if there wasn’t a Reception area, then the supply shop would be behind the classrooms, right? Which were probably near the cafeteria. I shut down my tablet and strode confidently back to the cafeteria.

Half an hour later, I stood in a narrow, slightly damp tunnel, completely and thoroughly lost.

Above me, the crystals glowed blue, indicating that this was part of the school and a place I was allowed to be. This was the only such indication, because the floor they lit was dirty and uneven and the walls looked natural and were strewn with cobwebs. In places, the rough stone had been smoothed over by milky layers left by years of trickling water.

I lifted my tablet, then hesitated. Checking a map would be

Reviews for The Cursed Heart

[Synthesis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I found "Curse Words" after catching up on "Time to Orbit: Unknown" and fiercely needed more Derin Edala. I've found twists and turns that I have never seen before in fantasy. Extraordinary world-building, characterization, and pacing. Absolutely loving this series!