“So …” started Aiden, “about that not-help?”
But the sage didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to write out petty curses, pondering aloud. “This fiendish girl cut up someone’s dress…. How to repay her, I wonder?”
Aru cleared her throat, trying to get the sage’s attention, but he was deep in thought. The only way to make Durvasa pay heed was, it seemed, to talk about what he wanted to talk about.
“What if you cursed her to have really itchy tags that she can’t take off without ruining her clothes?”
Durvasa paused for a second, then nodded. “Amateurish … but serviceable. And how about a person who put worms in someone else’s spaghetti as a prank?”
Brynne looked appalled. “How would they like it if all their food was always too hot or too cold? I hate that.”
Durvasa grinned. “I suspect they would not like it at all…. And what curse would be appropriate for a person who tied someone else’s shoes together and laughed when they tripped?”
Aru had nothing to suggest, but Mini did. Her cheeks turned red, and Aru suspected that the exact same scenario had happened to her once.
“Maybe one shoe should always feel more tied than the other? They can never fix it.”
“Ah, how delightfully inconvenient!” said Durvasa, clapping merrily.
Only then did Aru notice that Aiden was looking at all three girls as if they’d sprouted horns.
“You guys are …”
“Clever?” suggested Aru.
“Just?” asked Mini.
“Powerful?” tried Brynne.
Aiden crossed his arms. “I was going to say diabolical.”
“Meh,” said Aru. “Close enough.”
These curses are one of kind
