Page 15 of Heirs of the Cursed

“Precisely. The curse was born of a bargain that was never fulfilled. And if the dark magic that lies dormant beneath our kingdom has awakened, we have little time left to stop it.”

“What will happen if it isn’t fulfilled?” Darcia asked.

Her father shook his head. “In the academy, we were told that the results of these kinds of bargains are always catastrophic. Everything we know would fall into darkness and turn to stone. Perhaps magic would be destroyed forever, as the price for that violated agreement. Laivalon would no longer be a world, reduced to a forgotten wasteland, its last breath fading into the void.”

That was bad.

Reallybad.

Harg returned his gaze to the stone and grunted in displeasure. Thousands of thoughts must have been going through his head, many of them about bloodshed. Darcia clenched every muscle in her body, fighting the shiver that threatened to overtake her.

How would they stop it? What lengths would the army—and the king—go to save it? And what would happen if the bargain wasn’t fulfilled before Laivalon lost its light?

The general stood up and slipped the tiny stone into his pocket. “I must leave. If I have any more questions, may I come to consult you?”

“As my daughter said, it will be a pleasure to receive you in our home, General. We’re at the service of the king and everything he needs.”

He held out his hand toward Gion and then turned his attention to Darcia. The Chaser approached her courteously, requesting her hand to kiss it.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your abode, I hope I haven’t intruded too much.”

Darcia gave him a nod and an affable smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sir Koller.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

The general bowed briefly before Gion escorted him to the door, dismissing him in a good-natured manner. She folded her arms as the rusty hinges creaked in the short distance, her heart settling back to its normal rhythm once the sound of the horses faded away from their home.

“Father.”

“Yes?”

“What must be done to prevent the curse of stone and shadow from spreading?”

Gion spun on his axis and scrutinized his daughter’s face. “All magic comes with a price, Darcie. And such a dark bargain can only be made with a counterpart, a curse. All we can do is hope the king soon finds the cause, and pray to the goddesses for mercy . . . Curses always take their toll, one way or another.”

6

Bellmare

Naithea’s body still trembled from the manifestation of her siren song. The maids had arrived with the first rays of light to clean the room, carrying along a tonic that would eliminateany possibility of unwanted pregnancy. She’d drunk it without paying any attention, immersed in her thoughts.

Calling upon her magic had been risky, but leaving the soldier alive was a loose end. If someone asked the right questions, Naithea’s power could fire back. And if she failed to control the monster she harbored inside her, it would kill those who posed a threat to save her own skin.

Better him than us, that voice in her head growled.

Naithea shook it off before she could agree, walking through the brothel’s halls. It wasn’t long until she found Jehanne outside the bedroom they shared, wearing a gray dress with long sleeves. They were far less ostentatious than the gowns the madam made them wear in the evenings, but just as special, since she’d sewn them herself.

When she wasn’t yet old enough to work properly in the brothel, the innocent girl Naithea had once been, had admired the elegant dresses that covered the older hetairas’ bodies. Now, there was nothing she loathed more.

And goddesses, she couldn’t wait to get off her clothes and take a bath—even when she knew that the scorching water wouldn’t wash away her shame.

“How did it go?”

Naithea lowered her head to the basket her friend held in one arm, filled with fruits and vegetables for the brothel’s cooks to prepare a nutritious meal before the hetairas went back to work. She picked up a red apple and took a bite, feeling the sweet taste slide down her throat.

“Just as I told you it would be,” she promptly exaggerated to conceal her emotions. “I had to pretend I was very satisfied.”

Two other hetairas approached them, inseparable despite being so different. While Baelisa was tall, with dark skin and black curly hair that fell over her brown eyes in a messy way,Sundi was small and her short ash-blonde hair had been fading in color, though a singular joy remained in her gray eyes.

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