Cursed: Legend of the Grimoire, Book One

by Leah Ross

  “Looks to be genuine to me, Captain.”

  Guinn’s heart pounded and his breathing quickened. He took a deep breath to maintain his composure. “Not that I don’t trust your opinion, but how can you be sure?”

  “Your spell must have had a positive result, or you would not have brought this to me at all. Furthermore, all of the measurements I recorded match the set that I have established through my research to belong to the original coronet.”

  “Though a good forgery could be made to that exacting level of detail, and could even produce a false spell positive.”

  Ambrose nodded. “Correct. I have seen some very convincing copies in my day. But this coronet has something that cannot be duplicated on even the most painstakingly created replica.” He handed the magnifying glass to Guinn and held up the coronet. “Without the glass, do you see the thin ring around each of the eight indentations for the orbs?” Guinn nodded. “Now, inspect one with the glass. You’ll see that the ring is, in fact, comprised of many copies of the same nearly microscopic image—the simplified icon of the Or’Acantha royal house.”

  Guinn sat back in his chair, his eyes wide with shock. “Bloody hell.”

  Ambrose smiled. “Eloquently stated, Captain. The reason why I believe this item to be the original Ahnrah Circlet is because no image, no matter how detailed, would capture that minute a detail. I have only seen a few references to that feature, and only in the most obscure texts. Also, the Or’Acantha royal seal was sacred. Yes, there are many depictions of it; I’m certain you’ve seen it yourself. But the seal was only allowed to be used under direct supervision of the royal guard. No forgery of Ahnrah’s Circlet would ever include the Or’Acantha royal seal, because the seals were kept as part of the treasure hoard, and, as you know, no one has yet discovered that.”

  Guinn sat and contemplated his next step, and Ambrose allowed him the silence to do so. Now that he had confirmation of the authenticity of the coronet, he had to follow up on a couple of leads as he shifted his focus to finding the eight orbs. He also needed to share the information and get more manpower invested in the search. Declan, naturally. And Morgan had already proven very useful.

  “I do not envy you for the hard choices you’ll face now,” Ambrose said softly, plucking Guinn’s thoughts from the air. “It will be a long and hard search. Bestow your trust carefully, Captain.”

  Guinn nodded. “I’ve already placed it well, it seems. Thank you, Ambrose. You’ve proven an invaluable resource, and I hope I can count on you as needed.”

  “Of course.” Ambrose inclined his head in agreement.

  “I’ll set up a private communication link for us to use, and speak with my accountant immediately to establish a revolving account to handle payments and such.”

  “That’s very generous, Captain, but unnecessary. I do have the means to pay for my end of things.”

  “I won’t hear of it,” Guinn refused. “This is my quest, and you’ve already helped me immensely. I’ll handle the financials. You just send me whatever you find—text, information, anything.”

  Ambrose shook Guinn’s hand. “Agreed. Best of luck to you on your journey, and I will do all in my power to assist you. When do you leave port?”

  “Tomorrow evening.”

  “Then I will send some things down to the ship right away, so that you may begin your research immediately.”

  “Thank you, Ambrose, for everything.” Guinn clasped the old man’s gnarled hand in both of his own.

  “No, Captain. Thank you,” Ambrose replied. “Thank you for allowing an old man one last great adventure.”

  Guinn grinned, gathered up his things, and left the shop lightheaded with elation. My greatest adventure. One that will establish my legacy. He closed his eyes with a deep breath and a smile, and then strode off to the inn.

  ~*~

  William sighed as a knock sounded on his closed office door. “Yes?” he said, hoping he conveyed the right amount of exasperation in his tone.

  His assistant Hayley poked her head in. “I apologize for disturbing you, William, but there’s a Laria McCabe here to see you.”

  His lip quirked in amusement. She made it sound like one of an army of women with that name had arrived. “There’s only one Laria McCabe, Hayley.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course there is. Shall I send her in?”

  He nodded and waved her off. Heaving another sigh, he set aside his work and went to grab Laria a glass of water. He set it on the desk and then leaned casually against the desktop. Hayley ushered Laria into the office, and shut the door. He motioned her to sit and handed her the water.

  “Thank you.”

  He sat in the chair next to her. “Remind me to thank Guinn. I’ve gotten precious little work done since you all docked.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “Would you like me to go?”

  Grabbing her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles, and then trapped her palm against his chest. “Of course not! If you insist upon leaving, I’ll hold this hostage until you change your mind.”

  “I’m not leaving, Will.”

  “Good.” He pressed a lingering kiss against her fingers again and released her, slouching back in his chair. “First Guinn, then you, should I expect Declan to stroll through my door next?”

  A pained frown crossed her face. “I doubt it.”

  He studied her downcast expression and sighed. “Damn. I thought Guinn was just being melodramatic, but there really is something wrong, isn’t there?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” she said. “I don’t want to get you wrapped up in this, but I would like to see the man to whom you sent Guinn. He came back from that meeting so enthusiastic about the man’s knowledge; I think he might be able to help me.”

  “Forgive me the impertinent question, but why didn’t you just ask Guinn for the information?”

  “I can’t ask Guinn.”

  William nodded with understanding. “Because he doesn’t know what you’re planning, and there’s not a chance in hell that he’d let you do it anyway.”

  “Please, William.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really have to start charging you people for keeping your little secrets. Fine. But I don’t need to know your plan either. In fact, the less I know, the better.” He wrote the information down for her and handed over the paper.

  She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  He waved off the gratitude. “Yeah, yeah. You can thank me by naming the kid after me or something.”

  “Is it enough to just be Uncle William?”

  “Ugh. Spare me,” he responded with mock disgust. Then he sobered and regarded Laria carefully. “The child is Guinn’s, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said immediately with confidence. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  They embraced once more and he escorted her to the door. Shutting himself in his office again, he dropped heavily into his chair and propped his head between his hands. He felt weighed down by his friends’ secrets. And now he had one more to add to the pile. He’d desperately hoped not to see what he’d suspected in asking Laria about the baby’s father. But it was there all the same—the mocking glint of uncertainty in her eyes.

  ~*~

  Morgan strolled the Terracova streets, taking in the sights and interacting with people. With Declan keeping mostly to himself and Guinn and Laria doing their own things, Morgan was left to explore on his own. His small dagger hung conspicuously at his hip, and he only carried enough money to buy some food, so he didn’t worry about his safety. In fact, he was quite enjoying his freedom.

  He’d already amused himself by joining in several games in the central garden with children his age and watching the acts of the many wandering performance artists. Now he was eager for something new to try. Wandering to the back of the vast public park, he discovered a small glade, secluded amidst the tall trees, backed by the towering climbing wall of the rock garden, and flanked by a small, calmly bu
bbling stream. He stepped lightly, marveling at the serenity of the spot, and came upon a group performing a series of slow stretches. Intrigued, he stood silently and watched as they twisted their bodies into complicated balancing poses. The instructor noticed his attention, told the class to relax for a few moments of meditation, and came over.

  “Would you like to join us?” she asked in a sweet, melodic voice. The young instructor was small and lean, with long brown hair tied up behind her head and warm brown eyes that smiled at him. She wore comfortable, close-fitting clothing that allowed for maximum movement and hugged her lithe curves like a second skin.

  Morgan blushed as he dropped his eyes from studying those curves. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to ruin your class.”

  She giggled. “Nonsense! Newcomers are always welcome. I’ll show you what to do.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the group. “What’s your name?”

  “Jonathan.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Jonathan. I’m Cass, short for Cassidy. Come sit by me. Oh, and—” She tugged on his belt near his dagger sheath. “—you’ll want to take this off. Don’t need anyone getting hurt. Off with the boots too.”

  He did as she said, laying his things by the tree behind him, and sat next to her on the soft grass.

  She addressed the group in a low voice. “Everyone, please welcome Jonathan to our class.” A murmur of greeting went around the group. “We’re going to wind down with some less-advanced poses so he can gain some confidence.”

  Cass called out poses, patiently positioning his body until he could do them without assistance. He hadn’t thought that stretching and twisting could be so strenuous, but by the end of the class twenty minutes later, his heart was pounding and his shirt was damp with sweat. Despite the physical toll on his body, though, he felt remarkably peaceful and completely in tune with his spirit. It was a revelation for him.

  “Nicely done, everyone,” Cass said as they all sat at rest. She squeezed Morgan’s shoulder and grinned at him. “Impressive for your first time, Jonathan! Now, I’d like you all to close your eyes, breathe deeply and easily, and focus on your center.”

  Morgan let his eyelids fall as he focused on her soothing voice, feeling a peace he’d never before experienced. The weight of everything in his life evaporated, leaving him with a serene calm. He heard the soft rush of water in the stream, the breeze through the leaves of the trees, even the faint call of a bird soaring above the cliff. He felt rooted to the earth beneath him, an integral part of the world around him. He breathed deeply and silently, expanding his boundaries beyond the insignificance of his bodily cares, reaching out for greater understanding and harmony with all planes of existence.

  “Jonathan.”

  Blinking his eyes open, he turned to Cass and blushed. “Sorry. I’ve never been able to let everything go before. I was enjoying it.”

  She smiled. “I could tell. You’ve been meditating for fifteen minutes.”

  He looked around. Everyone had left. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be! That’s exactly what avaku is all about.”

  “I enjoyed it very much. Thank you.”

  “Will you come again? I’m here every day at this time,” she said.

  “I really wish I could, Cass, but I’m leaving this evening,” he replied with a sigh.

  “Ah, so you are a cabin boy. I suspected as much.” She waved a hand over his dagger. “Well, I regret that you can’t join us, but I’d like to give you something, since you seem to have discovered something quite useful for you.” She reached into her bag, pulled out a book, and handed it to him.

  He flipped through the pages. “This is your instructor’s aide. I couldn’t.”

  “Please, keep it. I hardly use it anymore. It will help you expand upon what you learned today.”

  He leaned toward her and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Cass.”

  “You’re very welcome. Find peace, Jonathan. It will help you through your toughest times.” She stood and helped him to his feet. “You’re welcome to come to class anytime you’re in Terracova.”

  He pulled on his boots and cinched his belt back around his waist. “I will.” Then, tucking the book under his arm, he waved at Cass and, noting the flush of sunset suffusing the sky, took off running for the dock.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Jonathan,” Laria said softly, pulling him away from his cleaning duties in the galley.

  Morgan glanced over his shoulder at Nigel, but the cook didn’t seem to notice him at all.

  “Don’t worry,” Laria assured him. “I already asked him if I could speak with you.”

  Morgan nodded and followed her to a table in the corner. “What can I do for you, Miss Laria?”

  “I visited a book shop while we were in Terracova and spoke with the owner about our… ‘project’,” she continued in a low voice. “He was quite helpful and sold me several texts that may be of use to us. I’ve already begun researching. He told me, though, that we’ll need to acquire a couple of items.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Yes, actually. I’m too conspicuous. Not only would my mere presence in any shops selling magical artifacts be noticed, but also the nature of the items would likely be questioned. I would greatly appreciate if you could help me find them and purchase them when you do.”

  Morgan’s cheeks colored and he fidgeted nervously. “Miss Laria, I… I want to help, but… You see… I don’t have… That is…”

  She smiled at him and patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Jonathan. I would never ask you to spend your own money. I’ll give you what you need. I just need you to do the hunting and gathering.”

  Relaxing noticeably, he smiled. “Of course, Miss Laria. Tell me what we’re looking for.”

  ~*~

  William walked into Ambrose’s shop and closed the door gently behind him. His thoughts weighed on him, and this was where he always seemed to end up when he just couldn’t handle the strain anymore. Heaving a sigh, he dropped into a creaky chair and rested his forehead on a stack of books piled on the table in front of him. Breathing deeply, he took in the musty smell of the ancient shop and the combination of leather and paper that was unique to establishments specializing in books. The familiarity offered him a little bit of comfort.

  A soft hand touched his shoulder. “You’ve been coming to me more and more often like this, Master Hannigan. I don’t care for it.”

  William sighed. “I can take my mood elsewhere if you’d like.”

  “I won’t let you leave here in this state.” The creak of another chair sounded as Ambrose joined William at the table. “Talk to me, son.”

  “It’s too much, Ambrose,” William said, still talking to the stack of books under his head. “I worry about them.”

  “You should.”

  William’s head snapped up. “Why?”

  “Captain McCabe and his lovely wife are dabbling in affairs they’d be better off leaving alone.”

  “I know what Guinn’s up to, and trying to stop him would be like asking the wind not to blow,” William said with a roll of his eyes. “But Laria? Does my idiotic best friend really have her wrapped up in this lunacy as well?”

  “The good captain has everyone under his guardianship wrapped up in that,” Ambrose replied, “But I’m afraid his wife has taken on something much more dangerous.”

  “Oh gods, what?”

  Ambrose gave him a pointed look. “Master Hannigan, you know I can’t divulge something told to me in confidence.”

  “So help me, old man, if you’re keeping something from me when I can help my friend…”

  “There’s nothing you can do to help.”

  William shot him a helpless look. “Did you at least try to talk her out of it?”

  “As you said, son, as pointless as asking the wind not to blow.” When William opened his mouth to protest, Ambrose smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. “I did, however, hopefully set
her on the right path. I can do no more than that.”

  William dropped his head in his hands. “I feel like I’m losing them. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Guinn’s off on this ridiculous quest, all but inviting the world to chase him down. Laria is caught between two potentially lethal men and now involved in what I can only assume is some dangerous magic. Declan is fighting something he’s struggling to control. They’ve all dragged that poor boy Jonathan into this mess… And I can’t do shit about it!” He slammed his fist against the table.

  “I know it’s difficult to be apart from them and that you feel powerless, but you can’t accept their burden as your own.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Your empathic abilities are not always an asset, are they?”

  “Right now, they feel like a bloody curse.”

  “I believe it’s all connected,” Ambrose said cryptically.

  “What is?”

  “All of it. The search, the magic, the discontent in Mr. Maclairish. Even your overwhelming mental state. It’s all escalating.”

  “Why?”

  “Mezriel’s Hoard.”

  William scowled at Ambrose. “Not funny, old man.”

  Ambrose cocked his head. “It wasn’t a joke, Master Hannigan.” He got up and went into his office for a moment, coming back with a battered book in his hands. “How is your memory of the legend, William?”

  “Hazy, at best, considering I last heard it when I was a child and it is merely a story,” William replied cynically.

  Ambrose smiled. “Ah, but remember, all legends have some foundation in truth. Please allow me to jog your memory.” He opened the book. “This is what I have ascertained to be the definitive version of the tale.”

  “Fan-bloody-tastic.” William rolled his eyes. “I’m not a child, Ambrose.”

  “Just shut your trap and listen, boy!”

  William crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair with a sullen pout.