Chapter 151: Beneath the Curse

That evening they went as planned.

It was already dark when the private jet touched down on a narrow airstrip carved into the edge of the island, palm trees swaying at the tree line and heat shimmering visibly off the tarmac.

Milo stepped out first, blinking against the brightness, taking in the sand stretching pale gold in every direction, patches of dense green forest crowding close behind it. It didn’t look like anywhere he’d expected, not a tropical resort, not remote wilderness, something caught strangely between the two.

A line of cars waited near the small terminal building, and Roderick strode toward them without hesitation, exchanging quiet nods with each driver like he knew every one of them personally.

Salvatore and Milo climbed into the middle car, Roderick sliding in beside the driver, and the small convoy pulled away from the airstrip, winding through roads that grew progressively narrower and more overgrown the farther they traveled.

They passed through several small settlements, clusters of houses near the coast, a market square crowded with fruit stalls, a stretch of road lined with fishing boats pulled up onto the sand.

Eventually, the landscape shifted again, the road climbing gently inland toward a village tucked deep among the trees.

It was quiet there, more peaceful than anywhere Milo had seen, though many houses looked oddly modern against the wild, dense greenery surrounding them.

Roderick stared out the window the entire drive, something distant and unreadable settling over his face. He seemed to remember every place there, gathering his memories back.

"I used to live here," he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. "It was not a bad place. But it’s really suffocating to live here. You can’t do anything."

"Which one is your house?" Salvatore asked, glancing out at the passing rooftops.

"A bit far from here, in the next village," Roderick said. "But it’s not worth going there. I’m sure someone already stays in it."

Salvatore frowned in disbelief. "What? If it’s yours? How can people stay in it?"

"You can’t have anything here," Roderick said, a faint smile touching his mouth. "Once you are gone or die, everyone will claim the place."

"What?" Salvatore’s frown deepened, something protective flashing behind his eyes. "You can claim it back. I will help you."

Roderick’s smile widened slightly, genuine now despite the weariness underneath it.

"I know you can do anything," he said. "But you’d better be careful here. And I don’t want to stay here either. You know I don’t have much time."

The car went quiet at that. Salvatore’s jaw tightened, and he turned his gaze deliberately toward the window, away from both of them.

"I hate that you remind me of that."

"I’m the one who should hate it," Roderick said softly.

"You can die peacefully," Salvatore said, his voice rougher now. "You will not feel anything. But here, I’m the one who suffers."

"Oh, Sal." Roderick shook his head, something almost fond in the exasperation. "Stop it."

"It’s why I hate talking about it," Salvatore muttered, still not looking at either of them.

Milo sat in silence, watching the thick canopy of trees blur past the window, the weight of everything pressing down harder with every passing mile.

He felt the sadness in the air. It made him very sad too. If only there were something he could do. If only his ability was worth something beyond simply seeing the end coming, if only he had the power to stop it.

He looked at the massive trees lining the road, their branches knitted so tightly overhead that the light came through in broken, scattered patches, and let the same terrible thought circle back through his mind again, the one that had been chasing him.

What if Salvatore really was in danger because of him? What if all of this... Macron, Alben, Roderick’s shortened time, traced back somehow to the moment he’d walked into their lives?

The car finally slowed and turned down a narrow dirt path, coming to a stop in front of a small, well-kept house at the edge of the village, its walls painted a soft white, a garden of unfamiliar flowering plants crowding close around the front steps.

No one else was in sight.

Roderick climbed out first. The driver who’d brought them leaned out his window. "The woman who lives there is rarely there," he said.

Roderick nodded, unsurprised. "I know. You can come back later, before midnight."

The drivers nodded and pulled away, engines fading down the dirt road until the village settled back into complete quiet.

"Why are they leaving?" Salvatore asked, glancing around at the empty path.

Roderick studied the house for a moment. "She will not come if too many people are here."

Salvatore didn’t fully understand what that meant, but before he could ask further, the front door swung open.

A woman appeared in the doorway, young, striking, dark hair falling loose around her shoulders, a wide, knowing smile already spreading across her face like she’d been expecting them for hours.

"I knew you would come today," she said. "Let’s go inside."

The inside of the house was cooler than Milo expected, dim light filtering through gauzy curtains, the air thick with the scent of dried herbs hanging in bundles from the ceiling beams.

They settled into a small sitting area, the woman lowering herself gracefully onto a cushioned chair across from them.

"I brought him," Roderick said, nodding toward Milo. "I don’t know if he is under a curse. But he can see people if they might die soon."

The woman’s dark eyes shifted to Milo, studying him with an intensity that made him want to shrink back into the couch. Then her expression softened into something almost gentle.

"So cute, boy," she said. "It must be hard for you. But... it’s not your fault. Yes, you are under a curse. And we have to know who put the spell on you. Don’t worry, it should be easy. Just..."

Roderick reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black pouch, setting it carefully on the low table between them. "I prepared what you asked for."

The woman leaned forward, peering inside the pouch, and her smile deepened into something more satisfied.

"He must be important to you," she said, glancing up at Roderick. "You prepared this. It’s not easy."

Roderick shifted slightly, some old discomfort flickering across his face. "Usually I don’t care. People have their own luck. But this time, I don’t have enough time. I just want to do it for them."

The woman held his gaze a moment longer, something knowing and a little sad passing behind her eyes, before she turned her full attention back to Milo.

"Well," she said, standing smoothly. "Let’s see."

She looked at him properly now, studying his face with the same intensity as before. "Please come with me."

Milo glanced toward Salvatore, uncertain, some instinctive nerves rising in his chest at the thought of being separated from him in a stranger’s house.

Salvatore only nodded once, steady and reassuring, though Milo could see the tension still sitting behind his eyes.

Milo rose and followed the woman down a narrow hallway into a small room at the back of the house.

Candlelight filtered through the small corridor, illuminating dust motes drifting lazily in the air.

Woven mats covered the floor, and small clay bowls sat arranged in a loose circle near the center of the room, filled with what looked like dried petals and ash.

Milo could smell something strong, but he couldn’t name it.

"Sit," the woman said, gesturing to the space across from her as she lowered herself gracefully onto the mat.

Milo sat, crossing his legs the way she had, suddenly very aware of how quiet the house had become, the murmur of Salvatore and Roderick’s voices from the front room fading to nothing.

"My name is Nian," the woman said, reaching out and taking both of Milo’s hands in hers. Her grip was warm, steadier than he expected. "You’ve carried something for a long time, haven’t you?"

Milo swallowed hard, nodding slowly.

Nian closed her eyes for a moment, her thumbs pressing gently against the backs of his hands, and when she spoke again, her voice had dropped into something quieter, more focused.

"Actually, this kind of curse is not really targeted at you," she said. "But your energy attracted it to yourself. Instead, it opened something that should not have been opened."

Milo’s chest tightened. "What happens after I remove it?"

Nian opened her eyes, studying him for a long, silent moment before answering, something careful and deliberate in the way she chose her words.

"That depends," she said slowly, "on what exactly we find underneath it. Some things, once opened, cannot simply be closed again. We will have to be very careful, you and I." Her grip on his hands tightened slightly, grounding. "Are you ready to know the truth about yourself?"

Milo’s heart pounded hard against his ribs, fear and desperate hope tangled together in equal measure.

He thought of Salvatore in the next room, of Roderick’s fading time, of every terrible thing that had happened to the people around him since the day he could see these things.

"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to know. But I want to know if I can help Roderick be safe too."