“You must know something,” Thia insisted, desperate. “What did you hear exactly? Is that why you were cursed? You found out something you shouldn’t?” Now that she’d begun, the questions wouldn’t stop.
Oskaren wasn’t angry, she seemed…sad. The corners of her mouth slipped down, her thick brows pulled together as she examined the ripples of the creek. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
Thia stepped forward. “That’s not good enough.”
“Ican’t.”
Another step. “Oskaren,” Thia said carefully. They were inches apart. “What is your curse?”
The girl frowned. “You know,” she said. “I have no heart.”
Thia shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
Oskaren’s gaze flicked to Thia. “Why not?” There was a spark in her eyes. A hint of her old self, drawn out by hope.
Thia wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t fail that part of the girl before her. She put her hand over Oskaren’s chest like she had before. “Heartless people don’t feel. What did you just tell me?It hurts.”
But Oskaren only raised a sardonic brow. “Then tell me. What is my curse?”
She wound her fingers gently into Oskaren’s shirt. “I think the Mage King made all your good feelings turn bad. If you’re happy enough, you feel physical pain. So it’s easier for you to lash out than to feel anything pleasant.” Only after she had voiced what she suspected did she realize how much crueler a curse that was than removing her feelings altogether.
Oskaren stared. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Thia asked. She moved her hands to the girl’s shoulders. “You can fight it.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Listen,” Thia said. She racked her brain. What would make Oskaren happy? Make her feel something good, after so long alone?
She remembered the girl’s reaction to her nickname.
Hesitantly, she stepped even closer, letting her hands slide from Oskaren’s shoulders to her arms, then finally, her hands. She wound their fingers together. Oskaren closed her eyes, breath uneven.
“Ren,” Thia said slowly. “You are my friend. You do matter, and I care about you. No matter who you think you are.” She watched her closely, studying the girl’s reaction.
There was nothing at first, but then slowly, Oskaren opened her eyes, genuine warmth spreading across her sharp features. She smiled slightly, lips spreading, then parting as she opened her mouth to respond.
But then the pain attacked, as Thia had suspected it would. Oskaren’s pupils dilated, and she cried out. She ripped away from Thia, bending at the waist as she clutched her chest in agony.
She stayed like that, and minutes passed, too many to count. Enough that Thia was tempted to go to her. But she had to see this through. Oskaren breathed deeply, regaining control bit by bit, and Thia let her.
Eventually, she straightened. “You’re right,” she said. There was no joy in it. Just detached resignation.
“Ren,” Thia said. “This is good news. I promise.”
“How?” She said it like it was her duty to ask, not because she cared about the answer.
“The real you is still in there.” She stepped closer and tried to take Oskaren’s hand again, but the girl pushed her gently away.
“An astute observation, Faelyn.” Even knowing what she did, the sarcasm stung. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
“What?”
Oskaren shut her eyes again. “I can’t…I can’t be around you. Please go.”
