The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) Read Free Page A

deep bow. “I am in your debt, sir.
Thank you.”
    “Think nothing of it. But do be prepared to speak to the
king and prince when you come. They will want the full tale from you.”
    “I will.”
    “Good. Sevana—I suggest hurrying.”
    “I suggest going away so I can pack,” she responded mock-sweetly.
    Pierpoint gave a snort, but the Caller fell back into its
seated position, becoming a faceless figurine again.
    Sevana shortened her mental list of tasks and said to
Decker, “We leave in one hour.”
    The man didn’t even attempt to argue, he just nodded, worry
and relief clashing on his face, spun, and sprinted out the door, his wolf at
his heels.
    Sevana followed at a similar pace. “Big! Get the skimmer
out!”
    A hundred miles. A hundred miles . No spell, curse or
magical artifact that Sevana knew of could do that kind of magic without some
serious repercussions. Doing such a thing would leave quite the aftermath in
its wake, showing in the land itself—or at least it should. Decker had
described it as a curse.
    Sevana knew better. It was a disaster of epic proportions
waiting to happen.

Sevana sat at the front of the skimmer, guiding it along as
they travelled east over Windamere, and even though her back was to her
passengers, she could feel Decker’s eyes studying her intently. He’d likely heard
some fairly fantastic rumors about her, most of them contradictory. Kip would
sometimes regale her with the more outlandish ones that he heard while
travelling. But she wasn’t the monstrous woman that the rumors painted her to
be. She really didn’t look like some overpowering woman, just a slender blonde
with a pretty face and a no-nonsense attitude. Because she didn’t care for
frippery of any sort, she dressed like a man, with trousers, long sleeve shirt,
vest and boots. For Windamere culture, this style of hers was odd but most
didn't dare to comment on it.
    Most probably didn’t care for her brisk manner of dealing
with people, but Decker hadn’t complained about it. He seemed thankful for her
quick reaction, but it clearly also worried him. She reacted to this curse as
more than a job, more than a challenge, but a real threat that she wanted to
subdue as quickly as possible. Judging from that intent stare, he likely
wondered what she knew or had guessed but hadn’t shared with him.
    He didn’t try to ask questions as they had loaded on board
her ‘skimmer.’ He did pause and give it a long study before approaching it,
though. For him, it probably looked oddly familiar but strange all at once. It looked
like a barge with railing on all sides, a wall of wooden cabinets in the back,
and angled, billowing sails out at the sides. It had taken considerable coaxing
to get Roki on board and even now the stallion looked about with wide eyes,
feet braced on the decking.  She’d given them both an amused smirk at their
caution (which Decker hadn’t all appreciated).  Well, since they were high up
in the sky, with a good five or six hundred feet between them and solid ground,
he had cause for that unease. He himself sat in the middle of the skimmer, well
away from the sides, with Gid at his side. (The wolf didn’t care for this
height any more than the stallion did.)
    At one point, she turned and gave them a glance, smirk
lifting the corners of her mouth. “Nervous bunch, aren’t you?”
    Yes, and you’re enjoying our discomfort, his
expression said. But the words he spoke were, “How safe is this…vessel,
Artifactor Warran?”
    “Perfectly safe unless lightning strikes us or we’re caught
up in some major storm.”
    He relaxed a tad.
    “Although I did crash it once,” she added, almost as an
afterthought.
    He froze again. Licking dry lips, he ventured, “Do I want to
know how that happened?”
    “Probably not.” Her smirk became an outright evil smile.
    He gulped, lifted his eyes to the heavens, and crossed his
fingers from mouth to heart in a quick prayer.
    With his prayer winging its way