Cursed Page 4

  Maybe I needed to get out of bed and kill the man already.

  I rose, dressed quickly, and skipped breakfast. My stomach was roiling enough without adding food into the mix. It felt like an especially long walk down the stone hallway that led to the Cloister exit. In this passage, the rock walls were covered with murals of happy skeleton art. The figures twirled, sang, and offered silly grins. The afterlife would be fun, or at least, that’s how the Zelle saw things. They really were an amazing group.

  As I reached the end of the passage, the floor became heavy with snow. My thin sandals slipped on the ice, and I tried not to think of it as a bad omen. Was my mission about to fall out from under me as well?

  Focus on your work. One step at a time.

  The hallway ended with a ledge that jutted out onto the exposed mountainside. Snow crunched under my feet. I stepped out and glanced up. A network of wooden passageways wound up the mountain’s face. The soft voices of my Sisters filled the air. They were well into their morning spells now. Part of me wanted to race back and join them.

  I turned around instead. Below me, a steep staircase zig-zagged down the mountainside, the stone steps glistening in the sun. Not good. I’d forgotten how icy things got this time of year.

  Why did I tell Petra not to cancel morning spells again?

  Oh, yes. I didn’t want to upset my Sisters any more than I already was. I also didn’t want my transport spell colliding with theirs, so there was nothing left for it than to walk down the freezing mountain. I debated about going back for my furs, but I worried that I wouldn’t leave the dormitory if I did. Straightening my shoulders, I began the long climb down.

  It was late morning by the time I reached the final flight of stairs. At this point, my teeth were chattering so hard, my jaw hurt from the strain. Ice clung to my hair and made my eyelashes stick together. For the hundredth time, I considered casting a warming spell and decided against it. I’d never transported so far away from the Zelle before. I needed to conserve all my power for that incantation.

  At last, I reached the final step. A small field of snow separated the staircase from the Cloister’s boundary line, which was a low stone that was covered in more painted murals. A short distance away, there stood the tall and leafless trees of the Frost forest.

  I made it.

  Shivering from cold, I looked back up at the mountain. The connected passageways of the Zelle was more than a league away from me now. That was more than enough room to safely cast. Excitement warmed my soul.

  I was about to Kill the Tsar.

  A little voice inside my head that said I might be about to make my situation worse. If I got caught, who knows what other terrors the Tsar would inflict on me? The heavy covers of my bed seemed especially inviting.

  Be positive, Elea. You can do this.

  Lifting my left arm, I pulled Necromancer power into my body. The energy wanted to buck and reel through me, but I concentrated it directly into my left hand. The bones there shone blue. I spoke transport spell from the Atlas.

  The greatest Cloister of all

  Jewel of the Endlos desert

  Center of sunlight and sacred learning.

  I paused in the incantation to give the spell time to take hold. A blue haze formed around my feet. Perfect. Now, all I had left to do was recite the last lines of the incantation, and I would be off.

  Sire of Souls, I call upon thee

  Transport me to—

  Creation Caster magick filled the air, sending a red mist hovering around me. Alarm rattled down my spine. This was why I’d hiked away from the Zelle in the first place. With this foreign magick in the mix, my spell could get ruined or worse.

  I needed to end this incantation, now.

  Lowing my arm, I tried to cut off the power to my spell, but it was too late. I was already being dragged off in a new direction.

  Darkness and pain enveloped me. It felt as if my body were being yanked in a hundred directions at once. Every joint and muscle was pulled to its limit. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. At last, I was solid and standing again on my own two feet. Every inch of me felt strained and boneless. I leaned over, balancing my hands on my knees, and gasped for air. What a mess. A full minute passed before I recovered enough to look around.

  I scanned the horizon once. Twice. Nothing but sand and sunshine in every direction. The Midnight Cloister was nowhere to be seen. For a long moment, I stood stock-still as my black robes fluttered around me and the truth became clear.

  My spell got thrown off. Gods-damn it.

  A figure materialized nearby—a hulking man dressed in fitted brown leathers, which was the classic look for a Creation Caster. Plus, he was positively bristling with their traditional weapons. Daggers were holstered onto his thighs. A pair of short-swords were strapped onto his back. His face was rugged and, surprisingly enough, familiar. Brown hair, broad shoulders, and green eyes… I’d seen this man before.

  Here was Creation Caster from my dream. If this man’s incantation were focused on finding the Tsar, then our magick might have crossed paths and thrown my transport spell off.

  Now, my entire quest might have been ruined, with years of planning tossed out a window. I marched toward my unwelcome guest. “Hey, you!”

  “Hail and well met.” His deep voice rumbled over the sands. “I’m Rowan.”

  I stopped an arms-length away. “Elea.”

  “Your transport spell caught with mine, Necromancer.” The way he said the word Necromancer, I might as well be dripping with the plague. “Why did Viktor send you?”

  It was an effort to keep my voice low and features still. Of all the people in the realm, I would never help Viktor. “It’s not your place to question me, Caster. I’m going to transport away. This time, you won’t interfere again. Do we understand each other?”

  “If you’re an agent of Viktor’s, then I’m not allowing you to go anywhere until you explain yourself.”

  After five years of monotones, his voice sounded positively wild with inflection. It made me even more anxious to leave this man behind. “I don’t have time for your nonsense. I’m going and, unless you want to eat a fireball, you won’t stop me.”

  I lifted my left arm and pulled in some magick. My body still felt shredded from the last trip, but I had to risk it. I must transport to the Midnight Cloister right away. Energy streamed into my torso. My limbs shook.

  Quick as a heartbeat, Rowan stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. How dare he? Anger made my vision collapse until all I could see were his determined green eyes. This man had a lesson to learn.

  Well, I warned him.

  I started the incantation for a fireball spell. My bones glowed blue with power. Rowan began some kind of counter-spell. I didn’t recognize the words, but there was no mistaking the surge of foreign energy that coursed through me. The hold I’d kept on my power shattered. My magick drained away.

  I locked gazes with Rowan. Not even Petra had been able to block my spells so well. “You’re a gods-damned menace.”

  “Interesting comment, coming from an agent of the Tsar.”

  “I am not aligned to Viktor. I give you my word.”

  “You know how many times I’ve heard that? Your kind does nothing but lie.”

  “My kind?” This mindless thug was calling my sweet Sisters a pack of liars. Well, I had more than one way to cast a fireball spell. My totem ring was pre-loaded with a cluster of them. Unlike the traditional spellwork, I only had to speak one word to launch the magick. It angered me to waste this weapon on some brute in the desert, but it might be my only way out of here.

  I raised my left fist. “Fire!”

  Five ghostly skulls shot out from the ring, each one surrounded by blue flames. They slammed into Rowan’s chest, knocking him onto his back. Good. I’d feel sorry for the dolt, but he had it coming.

  After that, everything happened so quickly, it was hard to keep track. I know the veins in Rowan’s right hand glowed red with Caster po
wer. Giant worms burst up from the sand, gulping down my fireball skulls, before burrowing under the ground once again. I stared in shock. I knew Casters could control nature, but I’d no idea they could make something strong enough to swallow a fireball skull.

  The next thing I knew, I was pinned to my back with Rowan’s bulk on top of me. Panic skittered down my spine. I tried to summon power into my body, but his damned counter-spell was still in place. With his right arm, Rowan held both my hands above my head. His torso and legs pinned down the rest of me. That got my blood boiling and how.

  I writhed and kicked, but he was so huge, my movements barely made him shift his weight. “Get off me, you sick son of a bitch!”

  “You serve the Tsar, I know it.” His left hand gripped the neckline of my robes and tore down.

  I fought harder than ever before, not that it did any good. Well, there were spells that could make him pay, now or later. “Leave me alone or you’ll regret it!”

  Rowan’s warm fingers brushed the bare, smooth skin of my left shoulder. “You were telling the truth.” His eyes widened. “You don’t have a mark.”

  “Of course, I was telling the truth. Now get off me or I swear, I will find a way to kill you, in this life or the next. You can rely on it.”

  Rowan’s voice turned pleading. “I’m so sorry I did that, it’s just—”

  “I said, off!”

  “I’ll get up slowly now. No need to keep fighting.” He gently rolled his massive bulk away. Why would anyone need so many muscles, anyway? It was bad enough the guy could cast like he did. I’d never seen anything like it.

  The moment his weight lifted, I hopped to my feet. My throat tightened with rage and hurt. The Zelle worked me hard, sure, but no one ever raised a hand against me, let alone pinned me down.

  This is the big, bad world, Elea. If you’re going to kill the Tsar, then you have to get used to such things. Maybe even worse.

  With trembling hands, I tried to retie the ribbons on my shoulder. I didn’t want to transport into the Midnight Cloister looking like this. A real Grand Mistress never let her robes get messed. But there were too many torn ribbons, and my coordination was shot. I couldn’t risk casting a spell just to fix my robes when I needed all my strength just to transport to the Midnight. I redid my shoulder into some semblance of proper form and then focused my attention on Rowan. “You’re a bastard.”

  His green eyes were filled with regret. “Once again, my heartfelt apologies.”

  “So you said. I’m casting my spell now. Since I’m not an agent of the Tsar, you’re going to leave me alone, right?”

  “It’s not that simple. You’re a Grand Mistress Necromancer. I’ve been here for months, and you’re the first one I’ve met who isn’t a pawn of the Tsar.” His eyes took on an intense look. “There are things you need to understand before you go. We must talk.”

  This man was unbelievable. “No, I must leave.” This conversation was going nowhere. I raised my left hand and started to pull power into me. He gripped my wrist again and blocked my spell.

  “I’m sorry, Elea.”

  “You keep saying that, but you keep acting like a fiend.”

  “I can’t let you go. You’re about to cast a transport spell to the Midnight Cloisters.”

  “That’s rather obvious. Our spells crossed, so we were both going to the Midnight Cloister. Why do you care?”

  His grip held tight. “You have no idea how rare you are. I don’t know if there’s another independent Grand Mistress Necromancer on this continent.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why you’re keeping me here.”

  “If you transport into the Midnight Cloister, you’ll be dead in an hour.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why do you care if there are independent Necromancers?”

  “I propose a trade. I could use your help, and I think you could benefit from my information. I’ve been spying on the Midnight Cloister for months. You’re walking into your death.”

  The thought had occurred to me before, so I couldn’t act surprised. How many times had I wondered what the Tsar was really doing in his Cloisters and Monasteries? I eyed the man warily. Maybe he did really want my help. Not that he’d get it, but I was curious what he know. A mage of his power could uncover all sorts of things. “What’s wrong with the Midnight Cloister?”

  “My team and I have been watching the gates all day and night. Young women come in. Old bodies go out.”

  “Last time I checked, that’s how life worked.”

  “It’s the same women, Elea. Only, they’re aged and dead in a matter of months. The better the mage, the faster they’re killed. We only saw one Grand Mistress go in. She lasted less than an hour.”

  I frowned. There were a few aging curses out there, but they were things that Apprentice Necromancers cast for a joke, like giving your friend warts or an extra nose. That said, they didn’t really change your underlying age. So, someone would need to cast an aging illusion and then, add another incantation to kill their victim. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I could use your assistance. We need someone on the inside of the Cloister who can blend in and look for clues.”

  I stared pointedly at his hand on my wrist. “If this is how you recruit help, then you’re terrible at it.”

  Rowan released my hand and took a pointed step backwards. “I know the way I’ve behaved hasn’t inspired much confidence, but you are about to transport to your death.”

  “You’re right. I have no confidence in what you say. Anyone could claim the Tsar is up to no good in the Cloisters and Monasteries. That’s not enough proof for me to take up with someone who attacked me.”

  “Let me prove it to you. There’s an oasis near here where my team is camped out. I know for a fact that Midnight Cloister has recruiting agents there. Low level Necromancers, all of them. You could ask them about the Sisters yourself.”

  I rubbed my neck and thought through my options. That could work. I was powerful enough to cast a truth spell on a low-level agent and they’d never know the difference. And if the Midnight Cloister was killing Grand Mistresses, then I’d need to change my plans. I’d be much better off acting as a Commoner who didn’t know magick than arriving in my Sisterly robes.

  I need help and a change of plans. The question remained, though… Was Rowan the one to team up with? Something about him didn’t add up. “What’s your interest in Viktor?”

  The corded muscles in his neck tightened. “The Tsar’s been working his hybrid magick on my people. Let’s just say I want him dead.” Based on the determined look on Rowan’s face, that was all he’d say on the subject. “And what about you?”

  “He cursed me.” Someday, I’d be able to say those words without my voice breaking.

  “You’re one of those, then.”

  “Yes.” Everyone knew about the Tsar and his infamous timed curses.

  “How long?”

  “Five years.” I didn’t say that the five years ran out on Sunday. That kind of information could give Rowan too much power over me,

  Rowan let out a low whistle. “Viktor must have hated your loved one.”

  “He did.” The Tsar saw it as a comfort to send your loved one to burn with you. The longer the curse, the more he hated those concerned.

  Rowan’s gaze turned intense. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll kill him before it strikes me down.” Hopefully.

  “So, will you go with me? Meet my team?”

  “Not a chance. You’re asking me follow you to an oasis where your people are waiting. I’ve a better shot to fight you here.” I lifted my hand and showed of my totem rings. “I haven’t brought out the bad magick yet.”

  Rowan scrubbed his hands over his face. “You’re not making this easy.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  Rowan paced in a circle. Was he about to attack me again? I pulled some magick into my body, just to be safe, but Rowan didn’t make an
other assault. Whatever he was considering, it had his handsome features all hard with worry. At last, he stopped and raked his fingers through his hair. “Fine, this will sound crazy.”

  “That won’t be too different from the way you’ve acted, you know.”

  Rowan sighed. “Maybe this will convince you anyway. Last night, I prayed to the Sire of Souls for help.”

  My breath caught. He knew about the dream, too. I kept my features still as stone. “Go on.”

  Rowan gave me a sad smile. “I warned you that it would seem insane. Casters like me, we only follow the Lady of Creation. But I went out into the desert and prayed to the Sire. I asked him to send someone to help, and I could have sworn I felt him answer that prayer. Elea, I think he sent you to me.”

  Our gazes locked. I remembered my dream and how drawn I’d felt to Rowan. And then, there’s the fact that he fought me and stopped. If he were trying to drag me away, he could have done so already.

  “I’ll tell you something else that’s crazy,” I said.

  His features turned unreadable. “What?”

  “I’ll go with you to that oasis.”

  One side of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile. The grin softened his rugged face. “And you’ll help me kill the Tsar?”

  “It’s a little early to say that. Let’s meet this agent of yours. If your story is true, then we’ll talk some more.” My stomach tightened into worried knots.

  Please, let trusting this man be a good idea.

  With that, we started our long walk toward the Western horizon.

  Chapter Four

  When will this hike to the oasis be over?

  We’ve been marching for hours. Why did I think I could walk across a desert in a black dress? Now, I was a hot and sticky mess who refused to waste any magick on spells for comfort. But that wasn’t even the worst part of all this. My quiet walk has given me time to think… And that’s far more painful than the heat.

  The past five years had been a whirlwind of action. Every waking hour, I trained to use my powers, loaded spells onto my totem rings, and sought out the Tsar. When I saw Tristan in my dreams, it would give me a frightening preview of my future, but afterwards I’d dive right back into work and forget. In all that time, I hadn’t really thought about an eternity of being burned alive.