Free Hero's Curse by Jack J. Lee Page A

“Don’t mind me Aidan, please go on.”
    “All of us have to move in on the Redcaps while we still have the ability to make some choices. Your most dangerous foes are the Norse; they are out to kill you personally. But the most immediate, pressing task you have is to get rid of the Redcaps.”
    Cahill looked at me expectantly. It was question and answer time. I didn’t know where to start. “What…why me? I’ve never done any magic.”
    Aidan looked at me quizzically, “You really don’t know?”
    I just stared at him without changing my expression. I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.
    “According to the briefing I received, as a seventy pound thirteen-year old, you fractured the kneecap of a fairly large grown man. You got shot in the heart and you didn’t die. You have prevented yourself from aging for twenty-five years. Didn’t it occur to you it might not just be luck? At its most basic, magic is forcing your will upon the Universe. You have been doing that for a long time.”
    Whatever I had expected him to say, it wasn’t this. For the second time in this conversation, I started laughing. It figured I had no one to blame but myself. “You mean all those years I’ve been thinking I’ve been so smart and tough, it’s all been magic?”
    Aidan grinned broadly. Even his teeth twinkled, “Don’t sell yourself short. For most of your life, you’ve been doing the equivalent of getting power directly from an active volcano without any safety measures. Opening yourself up to the Universe’s power is relatively easy, to be sure. Surviving the aftermath is not. You should have burned out your brain decades ago.”
    I saw respect in his eyes as he continued, “You must have an extraordinary amount of self-control and discipline. Up until a few hundred years ago, hermit monks were fairly common. They lived in seclusion and spent all of their time studying ancient texts and mortifying their flesh. Normally it requires that kind of intense ascetic lifestyle to have the mental discipline to survive magic without buffers.”
    I’ve lived a solitary nomadic life for years, I spend at least forty hours a week reading random stuff—history, biology, physics anything that catches my attention, and I’m an endurance athlete. I’d been a hermit monk without knowing it. “So why do the Norse trolls want to kill me personally?”
    “They want to claim your weapons by right of conquest. Every paladin inherits invulnerable armor and a fearsome weapon. Anyone who kills a paladin has a chance to claim those treasures. The trolls mortally wounded the previous paladin, but he lived long enough to protect his gear.”
    Aidan rubbed his tiny hands together with an expression of joy. Somehow he was able to keep from looking cute. I got the sense his happiness was genuine. He liked giving gifts. “They are now yours.”

Chapter 6: Pig Latin

    Aidan got up and went over to a large safe in the corner of the room. He opened it, revealing a large kite shaped medieval knight’s shield and longsword. Both were made of a polished silver metal that glowed. The illusion I was talking to Santa grew stronger as he chortled. “Victor, you don’t hide your emotions well. I can see you’re not impressed with the paladin’s traditional weaponry.”
    He held up his hand to hold off my response. I could tell he thought I was making a mistake. “Before you make up your mind, you should know the shield and sword will come to your hand instantaneously whenever you want them. They will also return to whatever storage place you choose. I would recommend storing them in this safe. They can never be broken and do not require any care. Nothing on Earth can penetrate the shield. The sword will kill any creature that doesn’t have god-like strength and powers.
    Once a week, the shield can be used to heal all wounds. The sword is ever sharp and will cut through steel like cardboard. While you live, no one else can touch your sword