by Lindsey Duga
“Amulet?” Zach asked.
He’s not going to let this go. “Curses need an object as a medium—something that binds the magic to this world. Most witches’ curses use jewels as mediums, and many reside in jewelry of some kind. The Curse of Venera is usually transferred to an amulet.”
“You knew all this and didn’t say anything.” Anger coated his voice now.
I threw my hands up. “There’s nothing to be done! A witch curses the amulet and hides it in the village. Even if we knew where it was hidden, there are dark enchantments guarding it.”
“What sort of enchantments?” he asked.
A trill of fear crawled up my spine, and I shivered. I tried to hide it by running a hand over my hair, pushing back loose strands that had fallen out of my bun.
Dark enchantments were like stepping into evil itself. They were unnatural and ripped away coherent thought and your sense of right and wrong. The few classes I’d had on them, where we had to experience various types of enchantments, left me with nightmares.
Recalling the cursed amulet book I’d picked up by accident when looking for information on the Sable Dragon, I recited: “Three enchantments, each dealing with a powerful emotion that consumes you. If you get lost in the emotion, there’s no way to pull you out—you’ll be stuck in the same state, and die there.” I hugged my arms. “Don’t you see? It’d be suicide to try retrieving it. Besides, it’s been so long since someone actually broke a cursed jewel—well, it might not even work. Not only that, it could be anywhere. And it’s too dangerous. Who knows what’s protecting it?”
“Ivy, we’ve got to try.”
“Why? Are your own beliefs so important that you’re willing to risk the lives of these people? Of this little girl?” I pointed at the girl in the bed. She was so young—still with so much ahead of her, and Zach wanted to risk her life for his blasted principles.
Not to mention I’d been seconds away from getting that Kiss, which would have made him see our power could defeat the Sable Dragon as well.
Zach turned to Millennia. “Give us a moment?”
Millennia frowned. “We should get going if you—”
I jumped in. “We?”
“Obviously I’ll go, too. It was my idea.” Millennia regarded me with a cold stare. “I may be a mage, but this one”—she pointed to Zach—“is the muscle. One person can’t do this alone. I was helping the villagers until you arrived. I can do no more for them now except go after the amulet.”
“I see. So you saved us in the forest, saw what Zach could do, and decided to wait and use him later? Well, you can forget it. Find your own prince.”
“I don’t want just any prince,” snapped Millennia. “I want your prince.”
Like back at the Romantica camp, I felt the disgusting emotion of jealousy crawl into my throat and down my arms, making my hands shake. I wished she’d phrased that another way.
“One who’s willing to see that there are alternatives to solving everything with a Kiss,” she clarified. “We’ll find this amulet, and you can have him back,” she said with a flick of her hand.
I struggled not to shout, not to wake the other diseased patients, making my voice strained and rough. “You’re insane. Did you not hear what I just said? Even if you did find that amulet, you wouldn’t be able to break the enchantments in time.”
“Let me make this clear to you, princess: I don’t give a goblin’s toenail if you want to stick your tongue down your prince’s throat. Just don’t use a curse as an excuse to do it.”
It was as if she’d slapped me. I started toward her, fists clenched, but Zach stepped in front of me and took me by the shoulders, forcing me to take a few steps back. He turned to Millennia. “Leave.”
Millennia glared at me then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
As soon as the door snapped shut, I knocked Zach’s hands away from my shoulders and growled. Like an animal. What was happening to me?
Zach stared at the door. “I had hoped when the day came for two women to fight over me, it’d be over something completely different.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No.” Zach faced me. His eyes were focused on me, but it was almost like he was looking through me, at the girl on the bed behind us.
Then, without warning, he pulled me into a tight embrace. “I’m scared, Ivy,” he said in a whisper, his lips on my ear. “Of this curse, of everything…of losing that little girl over there, or any other innocent life. But…this isn’t just about me being a Romantica. It’s bigger than that.”
My eyes widened at his embrace. He’d never held me like this before. Actually, I don’t think any of my partners ever had. And just like that, my anger dissolved. Millennia’s words felt a lifetime away. I gently tugged on the back of his shirt. “What’re you talking about?”
He pulled far enough away to look into my eyes. “For a long time, a small group of Romantica have…well, they’ve developed certain theories. They think the Royal’s Kiss causes more harm than good.”
The warmth of his arms faded, and I forced a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.” I started to move back, but Zach held my arms tightly.
“I won’t lie to you… We don’t have any proof. But let me ask you this: why does the earth burn when a creature is killed by the magic of a Kiss? Isn’t that unnatural? Without Royal magic they simply crumble to dust. When they’re killed with a Kiss, the surrounding earth looks decayed. Dead.”
“And?”
“Whenever you’ve lifted a curse on a village, what happens to everyone? Are they all healed perfectly, or are they left with scars and disfigurements?”
“Surviving a curse comes with a price. They’re lucky to be alive.”
“Some die anyway, don’t they?”
“That’s just the way it is. You’re looking for a miracle. And you’re right—this isn’t proof. And it’s not good enough to risk their lives on chance.”
“But that’s what we’d be doing anyway. Even if we Kiss, there’s no guarantee this girl will live. And you know that. Just give me three hours, Ivy.” He took my hands and tugged me closer, again wrapping his arms around me like a warm wool cloak. “You said partners trusted each other.”
It felt as if my heart were being twisted in two. “That’s…that’s not fair,” I muttered.
Millennia came in without knocking. She seemed unfazed by Zach holding me. “We need to get moving.”
Zach nodded and drew away. “I’m coming.”
I gripped his wrist. “The enchantments will kill you. Please don’t do this.”
“Three hours.” Zach brushed my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Give me that, and I swear I’ll come back for that Kiss.”
“And if you die? What then? This isn’t a griffin you can slay or a troll you can strangle,” I hissed. “Then nothing can save this village, or the rest of the kingdoms for that matter.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Millennia interrupted.
We both ignored her. Zach tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear. “I won’t die. I’ll come back.”
I blew out a breath. “You’re right—you won’t. I’m going with you.”
…
As we were heading downstairs, Rochet was coming up. “Oh, we’ve moved your things into one of the rooms and—where are you all going?”
I gave the woman’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “I need you to do a few things for me.” I glanced at her pregnant belly. “Are you all right to do that?” The poor woman was probably already worked to the bone, and she had to be close to her due date, too.
She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me, Your Highness.”
“Gather every person who’s able to start combing their houses. And the people here, too, tell them to search for an amulet, but also have them report if they feel anything strange.”
“Strange in what way?”
“Anything. A flinch, a pain, a sharp prick in their joint
s. If they get suddenly cold or feel sad or their brain becomes foggy, I want to know. No, actually, have them tell Bromley first, then he will report to me.”
Then I turned to Millennia. “How good is your earth magic?”
Millennia smirked. “It’s excellent.”
“I need you to upturn as much soil as you can. The witch could have buried it, causing the amulet’s power to seep into the roots in their gardens.”
“How deep?”
“Probably no more than a foot.”
“How is the Curse of Venera spread?” Zach asked.
“It’s not an airborne disease. Which means it’s probably located in a place people frequent often, somewhere they could have come in contact with anything that might’ve absorbed the amulet’s power,” I explained.
“I’ll check the butcher’s shop then. The apothecary after.” Zach grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and then hurried down the steps after Millennia.
I turned to Rochet. “Can you take me to the room where the witch stayed?”
Rochet led me to the far end of the east wing of the tavern. It was just like any other room, only dustier. I had a feeling no one wanted to sleep here after a witch had. Rochet hovered near the threshold as I scanned the walls and furniture, my hand grazing the quilted bedspread and the cedar wood of the armoire.
My Sense didn’t work on the amulet—cursed items were cloaked and enchanted by witches to prevent Royals from using their Sense to locate them—so instead I moved around slowly, trying to notice any strange feeling—an itch, a throb of pain, a confusing emotion.
But it was difficult for me to separate my real emotions from possible fake ones—especially when anger and jealousy at Millennia, and frustration and disappointment about Zach, kept me so distracted.
“I’ll hurry and tell everyone to start searching,” Rochet said.
“Yes, thank you.” Then a thought hit me, and I stopped her. “Wait—Rochet, have you developed any symptoms at all?”
She shook her head. “No, Your Highness. None yet.”
It was strange. If ten people had already died and the curse had already worked so far into so many people, then it was likely she’d start to show some kind of symptoms.
“Is there any place that you haven’t been?” I asked.
Rochet frowned. “In the past week? I don’t think so. I’ve visited almost every house and shop delivering Millennia’s herbal soup.”
Oh well, it’s never that easy. “I see. Thank you.”
After she left, I went back to my search. I still rather hoped we never found the amulet. I didn’t want to go near any dark enchantments. Wasn’t going after the Sable Dragon enough?
A sound from outside interrupted my search, and I rushed to the window. The earth churned as soil was overturned, as if invisible shovels and pickaxes were attacking the ground. Millennia stood in the middle of the square, her arms raised.
I went back to searching, and after another ten minutes of checking the room and shuffling around the furniture, I had to concede it wasn’t there. If I were close, I would’ve slipped into one of its enchantments.
Racing out of the room and down the stairs, I burst through the meeting hall’s doors, calling for Brom. “Anything?”
Brom looked up from a spot near the back. “Nothing.”
I spent the next half hour hurrying through the tavern, trying as hard as I could to clear my emotions and recognize any magical enchantment. At the last room, I headed outside and stopped on the steps, scanning the shops facing the main square. Where would many people go?
The bells on top of the chapel at the far end tolled out. Two hours.
That could be it…the chapel. Everyone went to the chapel to pray.
Although the witch wouldn’t have been able to just walk into the chapel, she could’ve controlled a villager so they could stow the amulet inside.
My feet pounded over the stones as I ran toward the chapel, echoing my heartbeat and the Romantica drums that still thrummed in my head.
Their chapel was small and built of wood, ornately carved. I threw open the doors and ran, breathless, down the main aisle that led to the dais. It was covered with dead plants. Withered and brown.
I stopped before two wooden statues of the Holy Sisters. Their faces, once so gorgeously carved and sanded, were black and warped as if the wood itself was dying.
A violent shudder passed through me, and I sent a prayer to my ancestors. Help these people, Myriana. And forgive me for what I’m about to do.
Then I started ripping up the dead plants. They crumbled in my hands. I turned to the pews and moved through them all, shoving aside all emotion, drawing on my Legion training to feel…nothing.
The bells tolled above me. One and a half hours left.
Swearing, I left the chapel. I’d covered every corner and felt nothing.
Zach emerged from the butcher’s shop across the square and ran into the apothecary. Millennia paused her magic and wiped her brow with her sleeve, then moved on to another patch of earth and raised her hands.
Their efforts were futile. I knew this, and yet I couldn’t help feeling terribly anxious. Briefly I wondered what Master Gelloren would think of me now—working with not one but two Romantica to break enchantments of the cursed amulet. The practice was so archaic and risky that I could almost hear Gelloren yelling at me for being illogical. I could almost feel my mother’s hand across my cheek for wasting precious time. The idea of her seeing me now, and being so appalled that she’d either faint or feed me to a nest of basilisk vipers, was almost funny.
But she wasn’t here, thank the Holy Queen. Yet…even if she were…my partner told me to trust him, and if he was going to trust me, then I had to trust him, too.
I ran to the stables.
One hour left. Nothing in the stables.
Forty-five minutes left. Nothing in the apothecary.
Thirty minutes left. Nothing in the villagers’ homes.
Twenty minutes before our deadline, I climbed the steps to the little girl’s room. She had twenty minutes left to live. I had minutes to Kiss Zach and perform the spell to try to save her and the rest of this cursed village. The scent of decay was overwhelming within the girl’s room. Tears filled my eyes, first from the stench and then from the sadness. This girl was literally rotting away while still breathing.
I prayed Zach was on his way. That he’d given up. “It could be anywhere,” I muttered. Perhaps I was trying to make myself feel better even though I knew from the beginning how fruitless the search would be.
Yes, it could be anywhere, since the curse could be easily absorbed by almost anything the amulet came in contact with. But the witch had come by only a week ago, so for the curse to affect this many people in that short amount of time, almost everyone would need access to…
“The villagers had hoped that the witch had only passed through the town, slept in a room, ate a hot meal, and took water from the well, and that’s it.”
I spun toward the window, my gaze locking on the small cobblestone structure in the middle of the square.
“The well,” I whispered, taking off at a dead run. “It’s in the well!”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Three Enchantments
Arriving at the well, I slowed to a jog then stopped about ten paces away. I tried extending my Sense, reaching out to latch onto the Force of Darkness, but nothing came to me except…calmness. The tension in my muscles eased, my head stopped spinning with thoughts. It was so peaceful here. I felt like lounging on the ground and staring up at the passing clouds without a care in the world.
My head was foggy, as if the rest of me could just drift away on a breeze. I stared at the well ahead of me and tried to remember what I had been thinking. Had I been thirsty? What am I doing? It was too difficult to remember. Maybe I should just give up. Just lie down right here and take a nap. I walked to the edge of the well and leaned against it, slid down its side, pressing my skin agains
t its stone surface and closing my eyes. The sun felt wonderful, and the breeze was perfect. In fact—everything was perfect.
“Ivy?”
I heard my name from across the square and opened my eyes. Zach was on the doorstep of some poor soul’s house.
Seeing him, hearing his voice, yanked me back to reality. This was the first enchantment. It made me at ease, made me think the exact opposite of what I had been thinking: the amulet was here.
I couldn’t move, my body relaxed from the weight of the spell, but I had to reach Zach before my mind was captured by serenity once more.
“Zach! It’s here! It’s in the—”
A black tendril of water wrapped itself around my head, covering my mouth. It was like a slimy black tentacle, freezing my cheeks and lips as it jerked me over the wall of the well and into its depths. Dimly, I heard Zach scream my name as wind roared in my ears. My back slammed into the water and shock ripped through my spine, knocking the wind out of me. I submerged, my heavy clothes dragging me as if I were sliding down a tube made of ice, pulling at me. I screamed, but black water filled my mouth and choked me.
Drowning. I was drowning in this cursed water. It had come to life and taken me down—either from sensing my magical blood or the threat to its existence.
I tried thrashing in the water and kicking up to the surface, but it was not normal water. It clung to me like rich, sticky honey, dragging me, restraining me, binding me. The harder I yanked and kicked, the tighter it pulled.
I screamed for Zach in my head. But somehow I knew he was already coming for me, like he had come for me in the forest with the griffin, like he had stepped in when my mother was ripping me apart after the battle at the wall. He’d told her he wanted to be my partner. Just when I thought I’d been drowning from grief and self-doubt, he pulled me up. So I knew that at any moment, he would pull me free from this cursed water.
