Cursed (15 page)

“No, it's a hybrid spell. If you've found some Caster magick, then you've a far better chance of unlocking those than I do.” She shuddered. “We don't have long and there is much I still need to tell you.” Sophia raised her trembling hands and untied the left shoulder of her robes, exposing the raised V on her shoulder blade. “Viktor's mark punishes us for breaking the rules.”

“I know. Sophia, we need to talk about the alternatives to you dying.”

“Absolutely not,” Sophia's face turned fierce. “You need to know what you're really up against. Watch what happens when I break a rule.” She inhaled a long breath. “I want you to help Ada escape.”

And with the word ‘escape,' the mark moved.

Shock froze every inch of my body. Something was crawling under Sophia's skin. Whatever it was, it shifted under her flesh, skittered up her neck, and buried itself into the back of her head.
Oh, no.
I stifled the urge to vomit. Sophia gritted her teeth and glared at me. “Do you understand now?”

I gasped. “By the Sire.”

“Marks are creatures that connect us to the Tsar or a member of his entourage. Mine links me to Marlene.”

The creature under Sophia's skin slithered back into place.
How disgusting.
I'd suspected that the marks linked up in some way. But for them to be actual creatures? It was unthinkable. It was foul.

And it was also brilliant magick, much as I hated to admit it. Damn that Viktor.

Sophia's face turned pleading. “I'm not saying this to entrap you. I genuinely want to help you and Ada.” She groaned in pain and then, something unexpected happened. The blue mist around us grew dimmer.

I froze. Once a spell is cast, it should stay in full force until the mage is dead. But the mark was doing more than hurting Sophia for breaking the rules. Her magick was changing, too. “This does more than cause you pain, doesn't it?”

Sophia looked away. “I can't speak of such things. I have to save my strength.”

Without meaning to, Sophia had answered the question I'd been asking ever since I left the Zelle. What did the Tsar want from Caster power that he couldn't get from Necromancy? The true nature of the mark held the clue.

Only Casters had familiars. And only Casters could share their power.

I leaned in closer to Sophia. “Your link to Marlene does more than punish you with pain. She takes away your magick, doesn't she?”

Sophia didn't reply. A single tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek. That was confirmation enough for me. With that, another part of the puzzle fell into place.

The equinox.

This was one of the few times when an untrained Necromancer would have extra power. If Viktor wanted to drain Novice magick, that was when to do it.

I slumped against the wall, my mind reeling. This also explained why the young Novices came out old and dead. Draining magick was the same as taking away your life force. It would age you, body and soul. But what would Viktor want with all that power? The Tsar was a schemer. He must be gathering energy for a particular spell.

By the gods.
The Changed Ones.

Once Viktor had enough Necromancer power, he could control the hybrid Casters. An eerie feeling crawled up my spine. With that much Necromancer power, Viktor would be able to control everyone and everything in the realm.

Sophia moaned and curled her body forward. “Please, help Ada.” Her eyes turned wild. “You must do this. Ada is special. You see, she's my sister.”

I must have heard her wrong.
“Sister?”

“I'm only twenty seasons old, Elea. You were right. Whenever I break a rule, it doesn't only hurt me. It drains my life force as well. Marlene's constantly setting up traps where I have to break a rule or Ada will die. You see, she likes—” Sophia choked on a pained sob.

“I understand,” I said quickly. “You don't have to say it again.” I wrapped Sophia's hands in my own. Her skin felt papery and cool beneath mine. “Know this, Sophia. You have my word. I will do everything in my power to ensure that Ada will be free.”

“That's all I needed to hear.” Sophia slowly rose and retied her robes with shaking hands. “Farewell, Elea.” Her spell vanished as she shuffled toward the door.

I caught up to her and stood in her path. “One last question. This is important.”

“I'll answer if I can.”

“When I arrived at the Cloister, my magick interacted strangely with the ceremony. It flared purple instead of blue. You said you'd seen that before.”

“I had.”

“Where? Who?”

“No, Elea. I can't answer that. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” She'd already risked so much. “Thank you for everything.” Sophia nodded, before hobbling out of the cloakroom without another word.

She's only twenty seasons old. That's three years younger than me.
And her life had been slowly drained away by Marlene. It was all another kind of curse. Sophia's ends tomorrow with the ceremony, and I have a few days more.

The Basilica bells rang through the air, startling me out of my thoughts. I was expected in the Sister's dormitory within a few minutes, or the guards would come looking. Now of all times, I didn't want to attract any attention.

I slowly started to make my way back. Anyway I looked at things, the conversation with Sophia made my chances for killing the Tsar look worse than ever. How much power had that man already gathered?

What chance did I really have to stop him?

Chapter Thirteen

I stared up at the dormitory ceiling, pinched my thigh, and tried to keep myself awake. All the Novices were asleep. My scarab had stopped moving hours ago, too. Now, my beetle lay almost motionless on my pillow. I'd passed the time by thinking up new spells for tapping into its Caster power, but even that wasn't keeping my eyes open anymore.

It had been a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep. It's a risk I couldn't take, though. I needed to wait for the crier to call out the change of guard, which they always did at noon and midnight. Rowan was still expecting to start our conversation when the clock struck twelve. I couldn't start my dream with Tristan too early or too late, especially since I wasn't sure how long Jakob could connect me to Rowan.

“Twelve o'clock and all's well.”

At last.

I whispered Tristan's name and instantly fell into a deep sleep. My dreams took me back to my old kitchen once again. Tristan was waiting for me, standing by the hearth. His face looked more alert than ever before. I stepped in or a closer look. Tristan's mouth twitched, something that only happened when he was worried.

“Elea, you're here.” Tristan raised his arms, reaching for me. He's rarely done that when he was alive, and certainly never had in my dreams.

I stayed firmly in place. “What's wrong?”

Tristan dropped his arms. “I just want you to know. If there was any way the curse could have passed you over, I would have made that happen.” The flames burst higher behind him. “You know that, right?”

“Tristan, why are you telling me this now? Of course, I know you wouldn't have wished this on me.”

“Yes, that's right. I love you, Elea. Please know that.” The fire and smoke burst around him in a heavy sheet. His keening moan sounded loudly above the roar of flame. I stepped back, my hand on my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. Over and over, this was Tristan's eternity.

And soon, it would be mine as well.

It's not over yet. I must find Rowan.

I wiped the tears away with my palms and turned toward the door. Rowan and Jakob stood there, their faces still and eyes cold.

“What happened? Did you find Oni and Yuri yet?” I set my hand on my throat. “Did you lose my totem rings?”

A long silence followed. Rowan's face stayed grim. And Jakob? I'd seen that look on him before, back when he'd found my soft spot for Tristan. The man was gloating.

“What a performance!” Jakob looked to Rowan. “Wouldn't you say?”

Rowan barely moved when he spoke. “State your piece to her and be gone, Jakob.”

On reflex, I took a protective step backwards. “What's all this about?”

Jakob held up his hand. My betrothal ring glittered between his thumb and pointer finger. “You tell me. What is this?”

“My betrothal ring.”
This was too much.
Was he really going to try to upset me again by forcing me to speak of Tristan? It wouldn't work. I met his gaze straight on. “You know that because I gave it to you myself.”

“You did. And I expect you didn't think I could cast a history spell on it.”

“I didn't think much about it one way or another.”

“Wrong!” Jakob's face lit up with pride. “You never suspected that I had enough power to look into the layers of magick on this ring. All because you're the Grand Mistress and I'm just a Master.” He pointed to the hearth. “That's why you put on that convincing little performance with your accomplice.” Jakob gripped his fists below his chin, batted his eyes, and spoke in falsetto. “Oh, Tristan. You couldn't have freed me from this awful curse.”

What is this nonsense?
“Speak plainly, whatever you have to say.”

Jakob chuckled. “Oh, you're good, I'll give you that. You missed a life as a travelling player.”

“She's right,” said Rowan. “Out with it, Jakob.”

The dark lines on Rowan's face gave me pause. Something was wrong, and it was more than Jakob and his petty jealousies. I shifted my weight from foot to foot. What had happened while I was in the Midnight Cloister?

Jakob held up the betrothal ring. “This ring has your lover's spellwork on it. Yes, it binds you to together. But your friend is the one who's cursed. The one he loves most is a mage named Quinn. That man was more than his Brother in Necromancy. The pair are related by blood. You had to willingly accept the curse in order to take Quinn's place. Who would do such a thing?”

What a pack of lies.
“No one.”

“Precisely my point. You accepted the curse because you know your friend the Tsar wouldn't ever let you burn. This was all an elaborate ruse.” I reached for the betrothal ring but Jakob snatched his hand back. “I'm not giving you the chance to hide your crimes.”

Could Tristan have put layers of spells on there?
I'd never cast any history incantations on that band. Tristan had said he'd placed a joy spell on it. Sure, the spell hadn't worked, but Tristan cast it while he was dying. Could there have been another spell hidden on the ring? It was possible. But to have accepted it?

I pressed my fingertips to my temples. What had I said back then? I'd answered ‘yes' to his bethrothal, of course. And Tristan had said something about the curse going to another and I refused. My blood chilled. That might have been enough to activate a spell. But Tristan wouldn't do that, would he? It must be faulty spellwork from Jakob.

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Tell the truth,” said Jakob. “This has all been a game. You never meant to kill the Tsar. You're in his employ. You think he'll spare you long before the curse comes due. No, this is a ruse to catch better prey.” Jakob almost snarled as he spoke. “You seek to kill a member of the Caster imperial family.”

“You're mad.”

Jakob laughed, but the tone was too brittle to be real. “That's why you asked about him when you first set foot in our camp.” He took on a fake female voice. “Oh, look, you have helms here. Is Genesis Rex nearby?”

“I can read a book, Jakob. I know you wear your helms around your King. And Rowan is the man's nephew. It wasn't too hard to imagine. You're making something out of nothing. And I don't trust your spell-work here.”

“Oh, let's count off all the odd coincidences here. You didn't know that you accepted a quest to kill someone… You didn't realize your spell would cross paths with Rowan's… You didn't know that Rowan is Rex's nephew… And you quickly guessed his real identity.” He raised my betrothal ring again. “You're guilty.”

“So, cast a truth spell on me.”

“Oh, but we can't, can we? You've got those enchanted manacles on you. And even if you
didn't
have them on, you're a strong enough caster to hide the truth.” He shook his head. “What a beauty of a plan. What better way is there to ensnare Rowan's attention? He already had a Master Necromancer in his company.” Jakob pounds his chest once. “But now, you toss out a
Grand Mistress
.”

“I didn't toss myself anywhere.”

Jakob kept talking as if I hadn't said a word. “You think you're so much better than my Master level. Who wouldn't be interested in your skills, right? But that's where you failed. I'm a far better mage than you took me for. I found you out. What do you say to that?” Jakob glared at me, his features wild with triumph. Rowan assessed me carefully.

A heavy quiet filled the air. This conversation had gone completely out of control. My mind was humming with everything that Jakob had said. Still, I could tell that however I answered his last question, it would change things for me. This was somehow like the moment that I decided to go to the Cloister.

I only saw one path then, as well.

I set my emotions behind a wall, just the way they taught me at the Zelle. I needed to face this situation with logic, or it would only get worse.

“Look past your petty jealousy, Jakob. This is about more than entrapping Rowan. I've gotten confirmation that the Tsar is using his mark to drain Necromancers. Once he has enough power, he'll control your Changed Ones. No matter what spell you cast, that truth remains the same. And I'm still under Viktor's curse. No one in their right mind would think the Tsar would spare them.” I looked to Rowan. “No offense, but I couldn't give a horse's arse about you and your imperial family.”