Cursed (The Price of Magic Series Book 1)

by Freya Black

  I wanted us to have the perfect send-off, the good-bye I had dreamed of with my parents. I lifted the Crescent Amulet over my head and dangled the giant amethyst around my wrist.

  “No!” Kate struggled to choke back her tears, refusing to take the Amulet.

  “In case I don’t make it, I want you to give this to the next Coven Leader. This is what I want. This is what Mom would have wanted.”

  “You will survive.” Kate shook her head. “Don’t give up.”

  “I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic.”

  “This amulet will protect you.” Kate’s voice grew stern. “Please, Fiona, just put it back on.”

  “It didn’t do any good for Mom or Grandma or anyone else in our family. And you need it more than I do. You’re unprotected without it. Your herbs are not enough to save you from Hexenjagers, especially without a divine power.” I held out the Amulet once more, waiting for Kate to grab hold of it. “You know I’m right. This is your best chance of survival.”

  Kate hooked her arm around my back. “Your mother would have been so proud of you. I just wish your parents could have been here to see this.”

  “They’re here,” I said, pointing to my parents’ headstones off in the distance.

  Clutching the Amulet in my hands, I could feel its power. The vision of my parents inside a circle of black salt flashed through my mind. My mother’s fingers had clung to the magical prison they risked their lives to guard. Out of desperation or stupidity—I wasn’t sure which—they had chosen to keep the Galdrar. I only hoped it was worth it.

  I secured the Crescent Amulet around Kate’s neck and pulled her into my arms. “A part of me will always be with you. No matter what happens, don’t forget that.” It took more than inner strength to suppress my tears. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetie.” Kate squeezed me so tight that it matched the pain in my chest.

  As if on cue, Sloane stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. The electricity of his aura rushed through my body, igniting with the power of my aura.

  “It’s time,” Quinn said, closing the gap between us. He hooked his arm around Kate. “Don’t worry. Fiona is strong enough to handle this.”

  When I looked up, emerald irises were staring down at me. “Deck, you have to promise me that you’ll take care of Kate if something happens to me.”

  Declan laughed. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Fee. You’re a Crescent Witch. You’re practically indestructible.”

  “Be serious. My family wouldn’t have a curse if that were true, and you know it. Promise me.”

  Declan surveyed me with a crooked smile. “I promise.”

  When darkness fell upon us, we joined hands and chanted one last Protection spell. We could sense the presence of Hexenjagers nearby. They were within our magical walls, making it impossible to complete the incantation. The air around us grew warmer within seconds. Same as all Fey-born creatures, they were unable to mask the honey scent of their skin. It practically floated in the air, announcing their impending arrival.

  I intertwined my fingers with Sloane’s, allowing the force of my aura to take over. We stepped away from the others and closed our eyes as the vision of Cyprian using the Talisman of Grimnir unfolded in our minds. Together, our thoughts and powers united as one.

  When the vision faded, I sensed the Hexenjagers and the dark cloud of magic looming over us. The Talisman radiated energy, giving off a fiery glow, as they glided through the gates of the Luna Crescent Cemetery. It was time.

  Chapter 27

  With less than fifty feet separating us, the Hexenjagers’ violet eyes shone through the darkness. My visions had not done them justice. Moonlight had cast pointy-eared shadows. Their translucent skin and beautiful features were mere distractions. Soulless hollow pits stared back at me, paralyzing every muscle in my body.

  Bastian pressed forward, his twin sisters with the same brown hair at his sides. The women had long hair that swept down their shoulders, but Bastian kept his cropped. Behind him, two men lurked, lean muscles bulging from their fitted black clothing. One had blond hair pulled into a ponytail, and the other had black. Both were equally mesmerizing yet scary all at the same time, just like the others.

  With the Talisman in my hand, I spun the first gold block into position. Its dark energy glowed like a ruby, but the energy it gave off burned my skin. I held the device at the ends of the spindle, which provided me some relief.

  Then, a gust of air flew off the creek, spinning a tunnel around them, its chill sinking into my bones. I looked over my shoulder at Robert. He whipped his hands at a rapid pace with a look of determination in his eyes.

  Using the force of the storm and a little bit of their own magic, the Rubedo Coven lunged the Brimstone Balls. The alchemic spheres crashed into an invisible barrier made of Red Energy. It shimmered crimson, illuminating the Hexenjagers’ evil faces for a second, before the balls broke open, engulfing them in flames.

  Bastian crept out from the fiery blaze, unharmed. He narrowed his eyes at me, a look so menacing that I shook with fear.

  Bastian looked us over in disgust. “I suggest you stop wasting my time.” His thick German accent had the effect of nails running down a chalkboard. “Now, give me the Galdrar, Crescent Witch,” he demanded, his eyes fixed one me.

  “No!” I almost didn’t recognize my own voice. It was so calm and forceful.

  He wanted me to fear him, like others before me, but I refused to let him inside my head.

  Fear is a weakness, I told myself. Fear will get you killed.

  I studied the Talisman and turned the second block as I spoke the next part of the incantation.

  Seconds later, a blazing ball of fire hovered above Declan’s palm. He set his feet shoulder-width apart and threw it like a football.

  “Declan, no!” I yelled.

  But it was too late.

  The orb bounced back as Bastian pushed out his hand, creating an explosion that sent us flying.

  I landed hard on my tailbone, the pain of the blast racing up my spine. In the grass, I rolled over, reaching out for Declan. He was flat as a pancake with his arms at his sides and blood dripping from his mouth as I grabbed his wrist. I’d check my heartbeat all the time after a jog, so I knew the procedure. But as I pressed two fingers to his radial artery, I felt nothing. I listened to his chest, unable to make out a sound. At that point, my own heart was thumping in my chest, pounding in my ears like a drum.

  Bastian moved closer, laughter rumbling from him and his companions. That was when I realized the Talisman was gone. It must have slipped from my fingers. I wanted to cry, mourn the loss of my friend. Instead, I clawed through the muddy grass, like a dog looking for a bone.

  Sloane rushed to my side, pulling up chunks of turf. Blood oozed down his face from a small gash on his cheek, mixing together with dirt and ash.

  I searched the graveyard and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Kate. She had a few scrapes, but otherwise, she seemed okay. The Inner Circle stood before her, protecting her from the magical firestorm.

  With the heat from the flames burning my skin, I started to panic. Between the anxiety tightening my chest and the smoke billowing above me, I gasped for air.

  Suddenly, the fire simmered to a dull blaze, and the Hexenjagers stepped through the cloud. The sanguine Talisman in Bastian’s hands glowed brighter than the smoldering ash.

  As I crawled along the grass, a sharp pain shot up my leg. The Talisman dug into my skin, but by the time I unearthed the device, it was too late. Bastian and his evil cohorts laughed, flashing evil grins on their hauntingly beautiful faces.

  I struggled with the order of the words. The Talisman no longer glowed crimson in my hand, and whatever dark magic it’d harbored vanished.

  Thunderous booms echoed off the forest walls. Bolts of lightning shot out of the dark sky, striking the ground like flaming arrows. I looked up and saw my Coven creating a violent storm, but the Hexenjagers w
ere persistent. They moved through the flames, averting our advances. Water and Fire, the strongest of the elements, were no match against them.

  Celeste and Vivian stepped in front of the others with both hands out in front of them. Gallons of water lifted up from the creek, creating a wall between us and the Hexenjagers. It looked like an ocean as each wave rippled into place. They used their powers, free-flowing from their fingertips, to shape and mold it. Bastian broke through, as if he’d walked through a waterfall and come out as good as new.

  “Fiona, we can’t hold them back much longer,” Robert said, grimacing in pain.

  Sloane slid his hand across my back. “You can do this, babe. Just focus.”

  The power of his aura had a certain spark. Instead of fear, I sensed his discomfort, a sensation of pure agony.

  I turned the first block of the Talisman into position, and in Old Norse, I spoke the first stanza of the incantation, “Kalla fram fornar þjóna.”

  The dark Fey blocked our powers—Air, Water, Fire, and even Quinn’s mind control. No matter what we threw at them, it wasn’t strong enough.

  The next block locked into place, and I continued, “Taka dimma bölvun.”

  Both blocks glowed red, so I knew it’d worked, and I pressed forward. “Snúa illum öndum til ösku.”

  By the time I reached the last one, a gnawing pain penetrated my skull like a jackhammer. Headstones laden with ash surrounded the Hexenjagers, who began to swirl into a kaleidoscope of colors. I fumbled with the blocks, but the runic letters blurred together, making them impossible to discern. It had to be another Glamour, a simple trick of the mind.

  Then, it hit me like an earthquake, a violent tremor that sent shock waves through my body. I closed my eyes to find my center. The power consumed me, and with my hands stretched outward, I directed it at the pointy-eared monsters. They were statuesque but only for a few moments before they started clawing through the darkness.

  I could hear Sloane’s voice in my mind, telling me to focus, as he had so many times before. My heart sank to my stomach when I glanced over my shoulder. The soft glow of moonlight cast a shadow on Sloane’s face. Instead of finding a shimmer of steel in Sloane’s wide blue eyes, I stared in horror as blood trickled from his right nostril.

  I surveyed the faces of the crowd. Disturbed by the sight of my Coven and the Alchemists brought to their knees, I started to panic. I struggled with the device, unable to see the last block of the Talisman. I turned it, hoping it would click into place, but nothing happened as I spoke the incantation. It felt like lightning had struck the base of my skull. I held my hand to my forehead, trying to fight the Hexenjagers as they siphoned my powers.

  A gust of wind shook dirt from the ground, twisting into a funnel of debris. Clawing at my eyes, I could barely see until the dust settled. I examined the Talisman, still unable to make out the inscriptions, and I muttered a quick Uncloaking spell.

  “You think your spells can work on us, Crescent Witch?” Bastian stepped through the blanket of dirt, not a single scratch on him.

  I ignored Bastian and prayed I could hold them off long enough to interfere with their Glamour spell. It was no use, but I tried anyway as I attempted to channel my powers. As a drop of blood splashed my forearm and slid down my hand, I started hyperventilating.

  As much as I’d tried to avoid my fate, the Cleary Curse and the weight of my world hung over me. Everything my parents had sacrificed was now pointless. Hexenjagers would start with Arcadia and eventually take over the entire human realm. And I could have stopped them.

  I cowered in their presence, my body trembling with each of their steps. The pulse of electricity filled the air, making the Lorelei Talisman glow brighter as it drained more of my powers.

  I lost all hope. My will to fight had almost evaporated until a plume of black salt showered me.

  “Salt does what you tell it to do.” All of Kate’s lectures and torturous salt-making sessions finally made sense.

  Salt does what you tell it to do! That’s it!

  I peeled myself off the ground. Somehow, I managed to channel enough power to create a small vacuum of wind. Black salt spun around me, and with my mind, I enclosed the Hexenjagers.

  Inside the circle with Bastian and his minions, I looked to my Coven, taking some comfort in their protection. My fate was sealed, but I had to give the people I loved a chance.

  Bastian had come for something my mother had stolen, and I had to put an end to what she’d started.

  I muttered the Binding spell Kate had drilled into my brain to create a circle of Red Energy that set the salt ablaze, trapping the Hexenjagers and me inside a circle only I could unbind.

  “Just like your mother.” Bastian’s icy tone sent chills down my spine. “You Crescent Witches always have to be the hero.” He towered over me with an evil grin. “We were counting on that. I thought you would be more of a challenge than your mother, but you’ve proven to be a disappointment.” He held out his pointy long fingers. “Give me the Galdrar, Crescent Witch, and I might let you live.”

  I stepped back to the edge of the circle. “I don’t have it.”

  “Don’t play games with me, little girl,” Bastian snapped.

  An invisible barrier of sanguine energy shimmered as Sloane attempted to use his powers to break through. By trapping my Coven outside the circle, they were unbound from the effects of Bastian’s mind control that he had used in an attempt to drain them of their powers. I let out an exasperated long sigh. If I didn’t complete the Veneficum spell, Bastian would kill me. And if I died, the Binding spell would break, and the Hexenjagers would be free to destroy Arcadia.

  “Babe, you can do this. Focus!” Sloane said in a whisper that felt far away yet so close at the same time.

  I pressed my hand to the invisible shield and felt his powers. Channeling whatever strength I could muster, I pushed my energy toward the dark Fey, concentrating on controlling them.

  A look of shock crossed Bastian’s face, and his devilish grin quickly twisted into a grimace. “I can give you something you want in return,” he hissed.

  “You have nothing I want!”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  I recoiled at the sound of Bastian’s thick Germanic accent that had an evil pitch to it.

  Even though my powers were holding them back, he wasn’t powerless. Bastian pointed his bony index finger in front of him, and a swirl of crimson formed between us.

  Just as Magnus had done at the castle, Bastian projected a vision. I gasped in horror at the sight of my mother, dirty and ragged. My mother was sitting on a dirt floor behind bars made of a hardened black substance, most likely adamantine, the same magical material The Imperium Council used to suppress a witch’s powers. Matted blonde hair framed her face, and the same white sundress from my visions stuck to her, as if painted on her skin.

  An uncontainable rage shook me to the core, making the ground vibrate beneath me.

  It’s not real, I tried to tell myself.

  It had to be a Glamour to lower my guard. According to Kate, my mother had taken her life to be with my father.

  “You’re lying!” I yelled, staring into his monstrous eyes. Every nerve ending in my body exploded when he shook his head. “She’s dead! Her grave is right there.” I pointed at her headstone crowned with peonies.

  “What reason do I have to lie? I will get the Galdrar even if I have to peel it from your lifeless fingers.”

  He attempted to close the distance between us, but my Cerebral Force was strong. Light from my crescent birthmark paved the way, creating a shield that even their Glamours couldn’t shake.

  “Nothing is what it seems, little girl. You will learn that soon enough.” His eyes lingered on my mother’s grave for a second. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you see for yourself?”

  The circle around us began to weaken from my fleeting powers. He knew just where to hurt me, and it was working. Sparks around the edges made the salt hiss and crack
le. I closed my eyes, summoning my father’s energy that lived inside me. My aura shocked my system, its power consuming every inch of the space.

  Bastian and his followers turned to stone, expressionless, as their mouths clamped shut.

  I spun the last dial of the Talisman, and in Old Norse, I said, “Senda þau aftur til dökk vídd.”

  At first, nothing happened, but then the entire object gleamed a deep red. The pain of the dark magic was too much to bear as the metal heated up in my palm, burning the Hexenjagers sigil into my skin.

  But something changed. As the sigil branded into my flesh, fusing together with my Crescent birthmark, somehow, I blocked its darkness. The crimson color radiating from my birthmark returned to its normal pale blue, the pain of the Veneficum spell wearing off. Then, it happened—the Lorelei Talisman in Bastian’s hand shattered into a thousand pieces. Chunks of fiery rock thrust me out of the circle, its fragments raining down on me.

  Before I hit the ground, Sloane caught me. “I knew you could do it, Nona.”

  I looked up at him, but no words came, my mind a blank slate. Through the wreckage of the cemetery, Celeste slipped through the crowd, followed by Kate. And that was when it hit me.

  Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled across the grass and latched on to Kate. “Declan,” I mumbled, a tear rolling down my face. “Is he okay?”

  “Dr. Callahan is working on him.” Kate hooked her arm with mine and led me to where Declan had fallen on his back.

  Huddled around me, the Inner Circle looked as though they were still prepared for the worst. The dejected looks on their faces mirrored mine.

  I dropped to my knees and brushed brown hair off Declan’s forehead, tears soaking my cheeks. Dr. Callahan peeked up from a chunk of black hair, her catlike eyes beaming at me. She cut his T-shirt down the middle, exposing a set of singed abs, and popped open a jar of inflammation cream.

  His skin flaked off in chunks as she massaged each wound, the torn flesh repairing itself. As a healer, she’d use herbal remedies and incantations to treat anything from a migraine to a broken leg.