Greed's Curse

As Julia passed by the herbalist’s tent at the market, she stopped when something caught her eye. Among the shelves of dried herbs and tiny vials of potions, she saw a book. The vendor was nowhere to be seen, probably behind the canvas curtain in the back of the stall.

When she entered, the cool shade washed over her. The book just sat there on the table, drawing her in. Waiting to be stolen.

It was made of brown leather, trimmed in gold. No title graced the cover, just a gold crescent moon. She knew what it was, even though it was obvious to her that the owner of this stall was no mere herbalist. He was a magician.

Magic had always called her, even though the king had decreed it illegal years before she was born. Once, years ago, she had learned one spell. She wanted to learn more. Here was her opportunity.

Her grandmother had been a wizard. Some of Julia’s happiest memories were of going to her house and learning the basics. How to read a spellbook. How to memorize spells. The intonation one had to use to feel the magic in your bones.

Her mother had sent Julia over there every Tuesday, probably to get her daughter out of the way while she had her friends over for ale and gossip. Grandma had offered to take her in every week under the pretense of “baking cookies.” While Julia always came home with a batch of treats, that was not their main activity during those lazy afternoons.

She would never forget the day she successfully cast her first spell.

“A pinch of sulfur,” Grandma said. “Yes, that’s the right amount.”

A tiny amount of the yellow powder sat on the end of her index finger.

“Now say the words.”

Julia took a deep breath. After months of learning to say the words correctly and weeks of failing to cast the spell correctly, she was beginning to lose hope.

“Est sulfurum fuego,” she said, closing her eyes.

A tingling feeling spread through her body, starting at her heart and spreading through her torso, to her limbs. It felt like sunshine and sparkles had been packaged into a bottle and injected into her bloodstream. It was a feeling she would never forget; it was a feeling she would chase after for the rest of her life.

Then she opened her eyes. A tiny flame sat at the tip of her finger. It was small, about the size of a birthday candle’s flame, but it was a start for someone with barely the magical power of a novice. Her heart raced with joy and a smile spread across her lips.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Grandma said, putting a finger to her lips. Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Of course.” Their extracurricular activities during cookie baking had always been a secret.

There had been at least a hundred spells in her grandmother’s spellbook; most of them much more complicated than a simple spell to produce flame. Unfortunately, the villagers discovered her grandmother’s skill a few months later. They burned Grandma alive for witchcraft, along with her spellbook.

Later, they questioned Julia about her grandmother’s magical activities, since they had spent so much time together, but she feigned ignorance. Grandma had taught her to bake cookies and do domestic chores. She had no idea her grandmother had been involved in something so sinister!

She was left with a double loss: the loss of her grandmother, whom she loved dearly, and the loss of that magnificent spellbook and the weekly magic lessons. The pang of losing both still gripped her at times, even though it had been five years.

But today, in the little wizard’s two-room tent on market day, was a spellbook, so carelessly left on a table. The wizard was probably in the tent’s back room, talking to a client about something—probably the best way to cure some ailment, since magic itself was forbidden. Treating illnesses with herbs was allowed, but those who had felt magic coursing through their blood before knew that this was no simple herbalist’s tent. Julia could feel it emanating from the entrance even before she stepped inside.

She hovered her hand over the book, then pulled it away. Many wizards placed spells on their books to keep other people from touching them. Or, at least, they used to. Spells like that would protect the book from theft, but in these days, it was a dangerous practice. Should the wrong person touch the book and injure themselves, the villagers would ensure that the magician met her grandmother’s fate.

You know you want me, the book seemed to say. Take me.

Was she imagining things?

The book still sat there, innocently. Did it really have an inner soul of its own?

No. It was not hers. Magic was illegal. Greed was wrong.

Go ahead, the book said. She heard it just like she could hear her mother telling her to wash the dishes. I won’t hurt you. I promise.

She put her hand on the book. The leather cover was soft, warm, inviting to the touch.

Julia’s heart beat rapidly. She looked around. There was nobody in the tent to witness if she just slipped it into her bag. Just her and the neat shelves of herbs. The book wanted her to take it. She should obey the book.

She picked up the book and quickly placed it into her bag. Her eyes widened as it shrunk to the size of her palm inside the canvas sack.

Julia turned to leave the shop, but was interrupted by the wizard, an old man with a white beard reaching nearly to his waist. She gasped.

“Um—hi.” She felt feverish and sick all of a sudden.

Instead of yelling at her or turning her into a frog, the wizard smiled.

“Finally!” he said. “I’ve been wanting to get rid of that thing for centuries!”

“Huh?”

“The good news is, you will never die as long as you have the book.” He sighed. “I’m 1126 years old. I was here long before the king decreed magic illegal. Back when the king’s ancestors were peasants farming the land.”

He stared past her, as if looking toward a past that was long forgotten. “I’ve lost everyone I knew in this life. My parents, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren. You don’t know what it’s like to lose generations of family members. But you will.”

“What do you mean?” Fear crept into her chest.

His eyes glinted. “Until you can find someone to willingly take this book off your hands, you will live. You will burn to practice magic. You will never be satisfied; you will always want to perfect your craft. It will never end. Don’t even try to throw the book away; it won’t work. I tried once. I boarded a ship and dropped it off in the middle of the sea. By nightfall, it was back in my stateroom.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You will get the magic you long for, young lady. But it won’t make you happy. Good luck. And thank you. Now I’m free.”

He disappeared into the back of the tent, leaving Julia confused and a little fearful. She had gotten what she wanted, but only the future would tell the price she’d pay for her tiny lapse of greed.