Cursed Read Free

Apprentice or Master Necromancer were behind this, then there was a good chance to break the spell.
    Tristan’s brown eyes dimmed. “It was the work of a Grand Master. The best I’ve ever seen.”
    A chill crept along my scalp. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
    He nodded slowly, as if each movement of his head was painful. “My last voyage was to Tsar Dmitri. He’s dead. Viktor killed him.”
    The words didn’t make any sense. I knew all the players in the Tsar’s entourage. “Viktor? I thought he was harmless.”
    â€œWe all did. Turns out, the man’s a Grand Master Necromancer. He took down the entire Imperial Guard with skull seekers.”
    Not good. Skull seekers combined the worst of a hungry ghost and a whipping comet. They were speedy and their teeth could bite through almost anything. “Were you there? Is that what hurt you?”
    â€œI was there, but no, the skull seekers didn’t injure me.” Tristan’s breathing turned rough. Bits of white phlegm congealed at the corners of his mouth. “After Viktor proclaimed himself Tsar, he cursed anyone who didn’t pledge fealty to him on the spot.”
    Cursed. Seconds ticked by before I could force the words from my mouth. “You didn’t pledge fealty to Viktor, did you?”
    â€œNo.” Bit by bit, Tristan pulled back his blanket. His muscular torso was ripped open. The white bones of his ribs poked through bloody organs. By the Gods. Bile crept up my throat. Tristan spoke in a rough whisper. “The moment I got back to port, these wounds appeared. They’re laced with magick.” His arm flopped down, covering his injuries again. “I’m so sorry.” His gaze locked with mine, and all the regret in the world hung in his eyes. “You’re next.”
    I must have heard him wrong. “What?”
    â€œThe curse will kill you, five years from this very day. The spell goes after whoever I love the most.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to marry you, Elea. Now, this is my legacy.”
    I clutched my stomach. How could this be happening? My entire body trembled with fear. I latched onto the one possible bit of good news. “But you still have some time, right? And if we kill the caster, we kill the spell. It’s the oldest rule of Necromancy. I’ll find some mage to help. We can get out of this, I know it.”
    â€œIf we had more time and someone willing, this curse could be moved to another person.”
    I shrank back. “I would never ask that of anyone.”
    â€œMy good hearted Elea.” He sighed. “I knew you’d say that.” Blood seeped through the blanket. A coppery tang filled the air. “There’s something else—” His bloodied hand slipped from under the coverlet. A small silver band rested on his palm. “Dying would be less painful if I knew my band was on your finger.”
    This is really happening. Tristan is dying. My eyes pricked with tears.
    Decades stretched before me, a never-ending string of lonely days without my friend. “Yes, of course.” I lifted the band and slipped it on. The ring glowed with a flash of blue. Magick had been cast. “What spell is it?”
    â€œJoy. I spent the last hour casting it. Do you feel happier?”
    In truth, I felt nothing, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Tristan that. Clearly, he was in no frame of mind to cast decent magick. “It’s beautiful, Tristan. That’s what’s important.” My hand shook as I eyed the blood-covered ring. “A perfect fit.”
    Suddenly, magickal energy charged the air, like the tingle of power before a lightning storm, only far more intense. Every inch of my body went on alert. Was this the curse?
    Tristan’s sickbed burst into angry flames. The power exploded, slamming me backwards onto the floor. Panic sped through me. Heat pierced my body.
    No,