Page 2 of Magic Cursed

The sound of wings cutting through the air lets me know I’m running out of time. I pump my legs, pushing myself faster. I make it to the tree line. As I crash through the branches and tall bushes, they scratch at my exposed skin. I ignore the stinging, fueled by adrenaline and fear—two things that have helped to keep me alive all these years. About ten feet in, I slam into something that runs directly into my path, and I tumble to the ground. A deep male voice curses and I realize I’m no longer alone.

When I’ve come to a stop, I’m lying bruised on top of a warm body. A man. He’s not much older than me, early to mid-twenties. He has hair the color of wheat and light golden-brown eyes to match, which look around more confused and curious than scared. A dragon is hunting him, and he’s more concerned with why there’s an invisible weight on him. I can’t tell if he’s brave or stupid. There’s something familiar about his face, and it’s not just because it’s easy to look at––which it is. He has a strong jawline and nice plump lips, and the hard body I’m lying on is firm with muscle.

The dragon roars again, reminding me we’re being hunted. We still have a few more minutes, but I have to act now. I say a small incantation. My magic tingles, responding to my spell. I concentrate on my invisible cloaking, imagine it growing, expanding like a cloud stretching across a mountaintop until it completely covers the man beneath me.

His golden eyes widen when he’s finally able to see me. Oh great, here it comes, he’s going to call me out on my magic and threaten to turn me into the Guard as a sorcerer. After years of evading detection, I just painted a target on my back. It was a mistake cloaking him. I could just uncloak him, run, and leave him here to the dragon.

“Now those are some very blue eyes.” He wrinkles his nose. “What is that gods-awful smell?”

Interesting. He didn’t say anything about my magic. No reaction at all, in fact. His face is empty of fear or hate. It only holds. . .curiosity. Maybe I don’t have to leave his fate to the dragons after all.

I sit up, leaning over him still. “That gods-awful smell is what’s going to keep us from becoming dragon food. Here, help me.” I start rubbing the dung all over him. “Dragon dung. It’ll mask your scent.”

A devilish smile spreads across his handsome face. “Well, my lady, as much as I’d love to have you continue rubbing your handsallover my body, I’ll have to reluctantly ask you to stop.”

I pull my hands back, my cheeks burning, and quickly get to my feet, scowling at him as I do. He sits up on his elbows. “I want the dragon to come for me,” he says in explanation.

Ohgreat. He came to end his life? I really don’t have time for this.

I sigh. “Look, Golden-eyes, whatever you think is worth dying over, it’ll pass. You’re young, good looking. . .you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, don’t throw it away.”

The dragon is now circling over our heads. It can’t see us because of my cloaking spell, but I’m certain it can still smell Golden-eyes. It’s only a matter of time before it breaks through the trees and join us on the ground.

Golden-eyes raises his brows and fights a smile, climbing to his feet. He’s tall, maybe six-foot-two, and his lean muscles support his frame nicely. His clothes and boots are finely-crafted. There’s wear to them, which tells me that he might have the money to buy high quality, but he is adventurous enough to get use out of them. I notice a strange pack on his back, also well-made. He might have something worth stealing inside it.

“I don’t plan on dying today,” he says, then pauses. A smile slowly spreads across his face. “You think I’m good-looking?”

I shoot him a look that quickly fades his smile.

“Not the right moment?” He shrugs and works to brush off the dragon dung from his shirt and trousers. “I do have a plan, and no offense, but I’m afraid you may be ruining it.”

I place my hands on my hips. “Oh really, well I had a plan too, andyou’rescrewingitup.”

“Apologies, but if you don’t mind,” he spreads his hands and winks, “would you uncloak me?”

My jaw drops, and I stare at him. “Are you serious?”

His smile turns devilish. “Most definitely.”

I shrug and shake my head. “What a waste.” I uncloak him. The dragon is circling back around. I put some distance between myself and the handsome madman and go lean against a tree. No point in singeing my hair. “So, what’s your name? Other than Dragon Food.”

“It’s . . .” He hesitates, looks down, and says, “Rock.”

I glance at the rock he was just looking at.Right.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

Two can play that game. I look up at the sky. “Sky,” I say with a smirk.

He squints his eyes, unable to see me due to my uncloaking him. “Is that your real name?”

Before I can give him a smart remark, the dragon drops through the trees like an avenging God descending from the heavens. Branches break with loud cracks, raining splintered wood and needles onto us. I throw my hands up, protecting my head from the onslaught. The dragon lands with a shudder in front of Rock and sizes him up, pacing side to side, his tail twitching behind him. He sniffs the air. He hasn’t attacked yet. He seems to be assessing the situation, definitely more intelligent than I originally assumed. Does the dragon notice Rock has no weapons? I doubt it will make a difference in the end.

A feeling tugs at me from inside, urging me to help him. I push it away, reminding myself that I’m not trying to die today. I’m no hero. I’m a survivor, and I’m not about to risk my neck for a stranger bent on killing himself, no matter how charming he is. Somewhere, deep down, I feel the shame but ignore it. Whether I like it or not, I’m my father’s daughter.

“Come on,” Rock yells at the dragon, in a crouched position.

Why hasn’t it attacked yet? What is he waiting for? The dragon sniffs the air again and slowly turns his steely gaze on. . .me. His eyes focus on me as if I’m uncloaked and he can see my terror-stricken face. My veins freeze. I look down at my body. Gaps in the dung show my skin and clothes, parts where I rubbed the foul substance onto Rock, allowing the dragon to smell me. The beast knows exactly where I am. I curse and drop my cloaking spell. It’s pointless to expend any strength on something that will no longer help me. Cloaking is simple magic, doesn’t take significant energy to hold, but if I’m going to survive this, I’ll need every last bit of my strength.

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