The Cursed (The Cursed Trilogy Book 1)

by Iyanna Orr

  “The prophecy was about you.”

  “I’m ashamed to say it was. Even after so many years, I can’t wipe away the simple fact that I was the end of my planet. Nobody else knew. Before I killed them, the elderly thought I’d fled with the rest. They didn’t want to admit the man who would destroy everything they knew might still be walking among them. The children and I began to care for the elders, but most of them died soon after. None lasted through the first year. By then, there were over a hundred teenagers that had crossed into adulthood, including me. I’d given up my devious ways after my parents had very knowingly left me here just so they could show me what I’d done. I watched them go, and I hated them with everything in me.

  “All the others began to look at each other with suspicion while the younger boys and girls all hid away, afraid of war. Sides were taken; candidates to lead us into a new era chosen. I never stepped foot in either direction. I remained alone and let the guilt of everything tear me down. Only when I escaped the war that rose after the elders died did I realize the prophecy had come true the moment those words fell from Monsil lips. I’d destroyed Rolland.

  “But there was another prophecy, giving me the chance to change my fate. I was supposed to bring them back together; the children at least. The adults who fled had already settled, building new lives and having new children to make them forget those they left behind. I wanted so badly to make it right again, then find my parents and show them I wasn’t a screw-up. So, I was on my way back to Rolland when Drake found me. He knew what I was supposed to do, and he didn’t want it to happen. He wanted to watch Rolland fall.

  “He took my memories. The witches say it’s the ultimate offense to steal a memory and leave nothing behind. There are still black spots in my memory, like how I ended up his soldier. The rest has come back, though, and I want to fulfill what I was meant to do,” Avan growled softly.

  “Then why haven’t you?”

  “Because, no matter how I was forced into my situation, I’ve found a reason to make sure Legacy is safe first. It has become my home, and it will always have me and my loyalty until Drake is off the throne. Only then will I return to my birthplace and remake it.” He stood up straight and looked over at Chandler. “I made my choice once, and now, it’s your turn. Nobody can make the decision for you. All you have to remember is that you’ve made it before.”

  The next day, Chandler realized just how well the Nephling knew the manor. It was they who showed Leon the kitchen after he complained, quite loudly, about how hungry he was. Avan followed them, scouting the manor without a word. Chandler was taken in the opposite direction by two Nephling, a boy and girl who said they were siblings, but didn’t remember their names.

  “Well, why don’t you just tell me what to call you?” he asked. The thought obviously hadn’t occurred to them, and they stopped in the middle of dragging him down a hallway. They stood there for some time while the two of them stared at each other. It wasn’t until the girl’s face twisted and looked like she’d tasted something bad that Chandler realized they could probably communicate in their minds. He waited patiently, then, in expectation of their answer.

  Finally, the boy turned and smiled. “Then you can call me Carter.”

  “And I’m Rose,” the girl cried enthusiastically. She released his hand and clapped excitedly. “Does that mean the others get to choose names, too?”

  “I guess if they want to,” Chandler answered.

  “Sorry about her. She’s always been like this despite the circumstances,” Carter said, gripping Rose’s hand and pulling her along. Chandler followed them.

  “What circumstances?”

  “We haven’t always been here. A year and a half ago, Drake dropped us here. Then about a week ago, we were taken away again. We only knew you were coming because they took us to watch the tournament.” Carter stopped outside a door and pushed it open. “This is where most of us spend our time.”

  Forgetting about his confession, Chandler looked at the room. From floor to ceiling, weapons were hung on the walls, their metal glittering under torchlight that came from different directions. It was easy to see that there were no rooms above this since it was as tall as the manor itself. They moved inside, and Carter immediately took off toward something. He gripped two of them and flew back down. He landed next to Chandler and handed him a type of weapon he’d never seen before… and for a good reason. It was obviously medieval; likely something that would have been in an Earth museum.

  “Know how to use this?” Carter asked. “These are my favorite.”

  “How to use it? I don’t even know what it is.” But he still tested the weight of it in his hands and liked it. Chandler gripped the wooden handle in both hands and swung it experimentally. Carter did the same, but it was obvious he was holding back. His eyes were already calculating Chandler’s movement and how inexperienced his new lord was.

  “It’s a halberd. It’s nothing special, but it’s easier to fight with in the air because it gives reach. When I’m on the ground, I like the ax.”

  “So, what are we doing with these?”

  “Since you don’t know how, I’m going to teach you how to use one.” He shrugged as Chandler looked at him. “I noticed at the tournament they only used the weapons they had in the castle. And that’s mostly the ones the blacksmiths are experienced in making. Most of these on the walls come from different dimensions. These, in particular, were created by the dwarves.”

  “That’s nothing special, though,” Rose said as she walked across the room. She pointed to a glass case, and Chandler wandered over. Inside, there were five swords. The black hilt of the golden sword had a dragon curled around the blade, seemingly hiding something between its claws. The blue hilt was a dragon’s profile. The extending spinal horns would pinch the hand of the wielder if it weren’t held correctly. If the sharpness of them weren’t enough to drive someone away from it, then the black holes that were the dragon’s eye would have. There was a red sword. The color was too vivid to be anything but blood. The dullness of the light scattered across the blade told me this wasn’t metal sword and that Chandler didn’t want to know what it was really made of. The fourth in the line was the black sword. It was a direct contrast to the white sword next to it, but they were identical. These blades had a piece of the metal cut out. In the very middle of the blades, lines of metal crisscrossed until there were diamond-congruent breaks stretching from hilt to the arrow-like tip.

  “What are they?” he asked Rose.

  “These were gifts from the dragons to our species a long time ago. The gold and blue swords were forged with a metal that doesn’t exist anymore. It was taken from a planet that was completely made of it and restored whatever was taken within days. That planet was long ago destroyed by Drake, and these are the only surviving forgings. The red sword was created by a god. He defeated a Kraken and then harvested its blood and bones to craft it. The black and white are made of a metal called Bane from the dragons. Each of them was forged in a dragon’s breath and cannot be destroyed. They haven’t been used since the Great Battle between the worlds millions of years before our generation.” Rose turned to look at Chandler with a grin. “I’ve been trying to get this display open for months.”

  “I’ve tried to tell her it’s not a good idea.” Carter rolled his eyes and moved over to them. “We don’t know what kind of power had to exist for those to be made. Whatever it is has kept this case closed for this long, and it was only by luck that we were able to get it here.”

  “You guys brought this here?”

  “Yeah, but we have to hide it when Drake’s men come. They have a habit of trying to take it away.”

  “Why haven’t they?” Surely, if the knights wanted this, they could just take it, especially if Drake knew about the power in them.

  “Because Rose has been erasing their memory of it for a while now.” Rose grinned proudly, bouncing up onto her toes.

  “It’s my specialty! I once made C
arter forget he was angry with me,” she gushed. “But since we’re related, my power doesn’t work as well against him, and he remembered.”

  “You can do magic?”

  “Not everybody,” Carter said immediately, shaking his head. “When we were released from the dark place, the guards trained us until there was nothing else to teach. Only after we were able to use our wings again did some of us start to touch the magic. We weren’t all able to claim it back, and it’s been a rift between the magic users and the regular Nephling since we settled here.”

  “I think they have it, but they’re not actually ready to use it,” Rose piped up. “What we are doesn’t just go away because we were shut out from the world. It’ll come back eventually, just like yours.” Chandler turned and stared at the small girl.

  “You know about me?” he asked.

  “No,” Carter answered for her. “We can feel it. You should be able to feel it in us, too.” Seeing Chandler’s blank look, Carter continued, “It feels like snow against your skin as if something is hovering just on the edge of your body.”

  Chandler watched the wall as he stood and mentally reached out to feel around him. He pushed aside the prophecy and the titles Drake had burdened him with; becoming just him again. His mind emptied, forgetting for the moment his long friend beyond his reach and the lives they’d left behind on Earth. Then, he could feel it. It was electric energy, moving under his clothes and over his skin, raising the hairs from his body. The thrilling sting of it made goosebumps and hair stand dramatically along his arms. Chandler held in a shiver as his eyes, which he hadn’t realized had closed, slid open.

  “You’re a lot more powerful than we are,” Carter said satisfactorily when he saw he had Chandler’s attention. “All you need is a little training, and these won’t help.” He grabbed the halberd Chandler was still holding and threw them across the room. “We’ll have to talk to the others. Rose and I can’t teach you everything.”

  Chapter 14 – Mountainmen

  Rory was asleep when they came for him. Max moved to the side, running the ritual through her head as fast as she could think the words. Michael and Damian were at work, securing the ropes they held around the bed until they pinned Rory where he was. As he started to shift within his bindings, Max immediately gestured to Michael, and he poured a small vial of clear liquid into Rory’s mouth. With his hands clamped over his nose and mouth, they waited with bated breath for Rory to swallow.

  The thick sound filled the room, and Damian’s eyes shot to where Claudia and Nimue slept. Once he saw that they hadn’t woken, Max went into motion. She walked across the room, perching herself on the edge of Rory’s bed, before reaching out her hands.

  Her face went blank as she laid her hands on Rory’s shoulders. The memories of the Gideon’s dismembered head ran through her mind in a calm wave, but her expression stayed clear as Michael and Damian watched on. She delved deeper, going inside his head to pull forward the old memories of Earth and his childhood. She willed them to replace his need for chaos and let the dark, dangerous thoughts dissolved into nothing. Gradually, the bloody mess that was Rory’s mind started to clear like water running clean of dirt and grime. He lay unresponsive on the bed, his body relaxed into the soft mattress. Finally, Max pulled back.

  “His mind is clear,” she whispered to them.

  “How bad was it?” Nimue’s voice asked. All three standing around the bed swung around to find her eyes open, staring not at them but at Rory. Max looked over at her and knew that Nimue’s mind was still plagued with the sight of Gideon in his office. Tilting her head curiously, Max told her.

  Halfway through her detailed description of the things in Rory’s head, Nimue’s eyes closed, and Damian told her to stop. Max looked away after she saw the first tear come from her eye.

  “Are you going to be heading off now, then?” Michael asked. He sat down on his bed, arms crossed and brows drawn low over hooded eyes. In the dim light, Max could see how unhappy he was. She sighed and rose to her feet. Just as she expected, he continued. “I don’t think you should go alone.”

  “I have to agree with Michael on this, Max,” Damian interjected. “There’s too much at risk for you to go alone, especially with the time differences between Earth and Monsil.”

  “I have the clock,” Max told them calmly. “I had the watchmaker make one for me a few days ago. I promise you,” she said, more to Michael than anyone else. “I will be fine. If everything goes according to plan, then I should be back here in less than a month.”

  “Remember, Chandler’s still out there with Drake,” Michael finally answered. “The longer he stays there, the greater the risk of Drake deciding he doesn’t need him anymore.”

  “I know.” She moved over to her brother and hugged him for some time. Then she pulled away and moved over to her bed, where she’d stashed the small pack she was taking. She held it in her hands and looked around at them all. Finally, after a nod in their direction, she closed her eyes and disappeared.

  She screamed as the sword burned its way through her flesh, pulling her back to the present. Max had watched stoically as the large man had calmly pulled it from the fire, examining it as he held the heated hilt in a heavily gloved hand, but she couldn’t keep herself from wanting the pain to go away. For an hour, or maybe more, he’d been asking her why she was here, and she’d been telling him, repeatedly, that she needed to see their leader. Max was sure he just liked the thrill of having a play toy that healed so easily. Even as she thought it, the charred flesh changed back to its normal color, and the wound closed.

  She’d been away from them for only a couple weeks, and that was in Earth time. Unless she could escape, she would be faced with an entire year waiting for her brother to realize something was wrong. With all of her magic, she couldn’t escape the grasp of a human man.

  “Why?” he asked now, finally changing his tone. He was watching her from under hooded eyes.

  “Someone sent us here,” Max growled impatiently. She wondered if he’d continue with his line of questioning, but wasn’t surprised when he moved on.

  “Who is us?” he asked.

  “Me, my brother and someone we recently acquired, who, I’m sure, would like to talk to your leader as much as I would. But seeing as he’s being held captive in Legacy, he won’t be able to make the meeting.” Max tried to spit this out with as much venom as she could, but she was tiring. Even so, she’d gotten his attention.

  “Legacy?” he asked in surprise. “Word of Legacy hasn’t reached here in four centuries.”

  “Which is why I need to talk to someone who would know what I’m going to say,” Max told him. Something was tugging at her consciousness, and it was unnerving her. As tired as she was, she fought as a sudden shove at her mind almost physically knocked over her seat.

  Memories she’d kept under lock and key sprang to the very front of her mind. The attack on Monsil came first, the strongest of them all. She gasped as she saw her home go up in flames, the screams becoming fewer and fewer the further the blaze reached.

  Immediately, the memory was shoved away, leaving Max shaken and vulnerable. The others came faster until they reached the moment she’d seen that Camaro driving up the street. That’s when she knew her secrets weren’t secret anymore.

  “You have a Dickson,” the man murmured, and Max looked at him sharply, her surprise barely reigned in. His eyes snapped to hers, and they were unreadable.

  “Who are you?” he demanded in a whisper.

  “Maxine Duke,” she replied, raising her chin to show she wasn’t afraid. What she didn’t expect was that he knew her name.

  “I’m hungry,” Rory said.

  “You just ate yesterday,” Michael replied.

  “You forget that I’m human and I have to eat every day. So I would thank you if you’d take those oversized knives of yours and get me something,” Rory snapped back and let out a curse as he slammed back onto the mattress. Michael stared down at him. Damian a
nd the others had long since evacuated the room. Now, he knew why they had fled so suddenly after Max left. They obviously had known Rory’s bad mood would linger.

  “I just want to go home,” Rory moaned into the bed.

  “Would you kindly get up? I’m not in real good spirits right now.”

  “You’re not in ‘good spirits’? I’m trapped in this hellhole,” Rory said as he flipped over. Michael didn’t understand the burning in his hand until he realized that he was holding one of his blades against Rory’s face and had his foot planted on his chest.

  “You want to talk about a hellhole? Earth is destroying itself because of people like you,” Michael said evenly in his face. Rory’s hazel eyes glared back at Michael with a simmering anger that matched his own. “At least, my planet was destroyed by madmen and not my species.” He pulled the blade away from him and put both feet back on the ground.

  “Is there a way for me to get home? Without magic?” Rory asked after a moment of silence.

  “No,” Michael replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Every dimension used to have a direct portal to Earth. That all changed once Drake started destroying dimensions.” Michael looked around the room, his feet never moving as his eyes darted from one wall to another. His brows furrowed and then he shook his head, eyes back on Rory. After a moment of studying him, he turned away, just as the door opened and Damian came inside.

  Michael lowered himself onto the couch with a sigh. He promptly stood again, striding to the opposite side of the room. “What is that?” he demanded of no one.

  “What’s what?” Damian closed the door behind him, sparing Rory a glance before looking at Michael. The man who was now looking around the room again slid his gaze over the two people in the room. His head turned this way and that as he tried to find out where the voices were coming from.