Cursed: Legend of the Grimoire, Book One

by Leah Ross

  There… He watched as Declan and a friend hiked together to the top of a hill to look at the ocean. They couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old. As they left the hilltop, Declan slid and fell, his friend laughing hysterically. But Declan was more concerned with something he’d found under one of the huge boulders. He pulled it out, proud to have found his first pirate treasure. Then it all went wrong. Pain tore through his small body as he tried in vain to get rid of the ancient coin he’d discovered. All the while, evil laughter taunted him, taking over his mind.

  The laughter amplified, ringing in William’s ears, obliterating everything else. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to maintain his control, but it was no use. The invasion was too strong. “Enjoying the view, mortal?”

  William’s eyes flew open in terror. The scene around him had changed completely from the serene hilltop of Declan’s childhood. Now all he could see was a churning abyss of black smoke and red flame, punctuated by flashes of garish lightning. Somewhere in the distance, Laria was yelling for him, but he couldn’t extricate himself or cut off the link to Declan. His breath halted painfully as a mass blacker than the void, utterly devoid of light, coalesced into form in front of him, red eyes searing into his soul.

  “Very foolish, William Hannigan, to play around with an entity you have no hope of understanding.”

  “Then enlighten me, Ashur.”

  The red eyes widened slightly in surprise.

  “That’s right, bastard, I know your name.”

  Ashur chuckled. “Your mental abilities are strong, I’ll give you that.”

  “What are you?”

  “You already know what I am. Why do you doubt me?”

  William glared. “Because I refuse to believe in evil such as yours!”

  The grin that spread across Ashur’s diaphanous face was full of malicious intent. “I am the original evil of this world! I am every selfish thought, every careless deed, every violent action. Fear, hate, and despair is what I feed upon, and I have gorged mightily! You can no more stop me than you can eliminate the vices that strengthen me. I am nearly done with this pathetic host. Perhaps I’ll take you next; your abilities would be quite useful to me.”

  William opened his mouth to threaten Ashur, but a sudden and unbearable blast shot through his mind and he crumpled to his knees in agony. Screams and pitiful whimpers fell unchecked from his lips as Ashur assaulted him mercilessly, and through it all, he thought he could still hear Laria calling to him.

  “William, please! You have to break free!”

  “Can’t…” Something tugged forcibly at him, trying to wrench him free of Ashur’s grip. He was dimly aware of Ashur’s snarl as a burst of white light hurled the entity back and away from William. “No!” he gasped. “Need… more time…” He snatched desperately at any threads of information he could grasp.

  “Time’s up, Will.” Laria dragged him away from Ashur’s smugly-grinning form.

  “See you soon, Laria,” Ashur taunted back.

  Suddenly, William and Laria were back in the light, hazy void again. He dropped to his knees and panted hard. “Gods almighty! It’s all true!”

  Laria knelt and cupped his face. “Now you understand why I need to do this.”

  He gazed intently into her blue eyes with concern etched into every line of his face. “Promise me that you’ll be careful, sweet.”

  “Will…”

  “Promise me!”

  She nodded. “Of course. Now, tell me everything.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two months later

  The inevitable finally caught up to Guinn and the Aeon Grimoire. The captain was studying charts when the call came from the masthead.

  “Sails ahoy, Captain!”

  Guinn stepped out to the bridge rail, joined a moment later by Declan. Both had their spyglasses in hand. “Colors and bearing?” Guinn responded.

  “Annali, sir! Three points abaft the port beam!”

  Guinn trained his glass on the distant ship, but he realized with a sinking feeling in his gut that he already knew which ship it was. “Archer.”

  Declan frowned. “I thought ye said the Lightning was lost in that storm.”

  “I said they hadn’t been seen in the time since the storm. It seems they must have survived after all.”

  “If ye’re correct, then it canna be coincidence that they’ve come lookin’ for us. Archer kens we have his treasure.”

  “Aye,” Guinn agreed. “They may have heard about our stop in Terracova, but they’d have a devil of a time locating us unless…” His eyes widened and he turned for the stairs. “Keep an eye on Archer,” he shot back at Declan. “Make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.”

  Guinn raced into his cabin, startling Laria, who was reading on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He retrieved the small chest containing Ahnrah’s Circlet and ascertained its safety. Then he took it to Laria. “Are you able to determine if something has a spell or charm on it?”

  She nodded, taking the chest from him. Holding it tightly between her hands, she closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering as she scanned for any magical attachments. Her brows knitted together as she felt something. With her eyes still closed, she murmured, “It’s well hidden, but… A locator charm.”

  “Can you remove it?” he asked softly, trying not to break her concentration.

  Whispering several low words, she spread her fingers over the chest. A small flash emanated from it and then faded. Laria opened her eyes. “There’s no more magic attached to it, Guinn.”

  He sighed and took the chest back to its hiding place. He rubbed his temple in frustration. “Why didn’t I think to do that when I found the blasted thing?” He glanced at his wife. “Thank you.”

  She stood and gave him a kiss. “How can I help?”

  He caressed her face with the backs of his fingers. “I believe we’re in for a fight,” he said. “If you’re up to it, your magic could give us a huge advantage.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Of course. Isn’t that why I’m here?”

  “I want you safe, though. Rest for now, and I’ll let you know if and when you’re needed.” He kissed her quickly and returned to the bridge.

  Declan quirked a brow at him. “Everythin’ all right, Captain?”

  Guinn scowled. “We’ve led them right to us. He put a damn locator charm on it.”

  “Ah, so he kens for certain that it’s here.” Declan studied Guinn’s hard expression. “What are yer orders, sir?”

  “Ready a longboat. Archer will want to speak with me directly.”

  “Do ye want me there?”

  Guinn shook his head. “I need you here, to command if Archer does something stupendously idiotic. I’ll take Ballard with me. Have Beckett ready all the guns and standby, with the ports closed. Anyone not manning a gun needs to be fully armed.”

  Declan stared at Guinn in silent disbelief for several seconds. “Ye’re orderin’ me to make ready to battle the Lightning?”

  “Yes.”

  “An Annali ship, Captain?”

  “Do you find something confusing about my orders, Mr. Maclairish?”

  “Only the fact that ye’re expectin’ the crew to fire on their own comrades, sir.”

  “Anyone unwilling to carry out my orders will be relieved of duty immediately and will spend the rest of their time aboard in the brig. Is that clear?” Guinn glared pointedly at his quartermaster.

  “Aye, Captain,” Declan replied immediately. He glanced out at the approaching ship. “There’s no comin’ back from this, Guinn.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it worth the risk?”

  Guinn swallowed hard. He was aware of the magnitude of the situation and the importance of what he was asking of his crew. This would be the ultimate test of loyalty. Today he would discover if his men were truly dedicated to his leadership, or if they would hand him over to answer for his crimes alone. Guinn had faith in them; did they r
eturn it? “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

  “Then ye have my support, sir.”

  Guinn smiled in gratitude and then stared out at the Lightning, his face set in a hard glare. “Archer will not let us escape with the chest. By pursuing us, he has already made the decision to fight us. It is imperative that we let them take the first shot. Do you understand, Declan?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “I absolutely do not intend either to hand over the chest or lose this fight. Archer wants this brawl, we’ll give it to him!”

  ~*~

  Guinn and Ballard met Archer and one of his men in the neutral waters between the two ships, which were drawn parallel to each other. The crew of the Grimoire was ready for a fight with all preparations as the captain had specified. Declan stood rigid at the starboard side of the bridge rail, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword as he kept a close eye on the proceedings. It did not escape his notice that Roderick Tate, Archer’s quartermaster standing guard on the opposite bridge, held a similar watchful posture. Declan narrowed a glare across at Tate, making it very clear that there was no trust being extended. Tate lifted his chin slightly and refocused his attention on his captain.

  Guinn offered a genial smile and extended his hand to Archer. “Kendrick, nice to see you alive and well. You were believed lost when no one saw you after that storm. I’m glad to see it wasn’t true. Did you come all the way out here just to meet with me? I’m flattered.”

  Archer crossed his arms over his chest, snubbing Guinn’s polite greeting, and glared. “This is not a social call, McCabe.”

  Guinn feigned surprise. “No? Pity. Mr. Ballard, please advise Mr. Ramian to put away the good rum again when we get back aboard. Seems we won’t need it after all.”

  “Aye, sir,” Ballard answered, crossing his arms and glaring back at Archer.

  “So, pray tell me, what does bring you, your crew, and your ship so far out to sea, Archer? Serendipitous coincidence indeed to encounter another Annali ship so far from home, or any port, for that matter. One might suspect you were looking for us,” Guinn said, continuing to pretend ignorance.

  “Coincidence? No,” said Archer with a sneer. “We came to retrieve what ye stole from us, McCabe.”

  “Steal? From another Annali? Surely you must be mistaken, Kendrick.”

  “Stop playing the idiot, McCabe. Ye’re much shrewder and more conniving than that. I know ye have it.”

  Guinn scowled nastily. “You would. My compliments on that underhanded locator charm, by the way. Rest assured, I’ve relieved us of it.”

  Archer responded with a smug half-smile. “I’m sure ye can appreciate the need to protect such a treasure from the likes of treacherous thieves such as yerself.”

  “I merely happened upon it and liberated it from its underwater prison,” Guinn said with a shrug.

  Archer palmed his dagger and aimed it menacingly in Guinn’s direction. “I want it back, McCabe.”

  “Not happening, Archer.”

  “Then I’ll take it from ye!”

  Guinn flashed his teeth in a cold smile. “As you wish, but remember that I did give you a chance to escape.”

  The men returned to their ships. As Guinn ascended to the bridge, Declan eyed him carefully. “Archer didna look pleased.”

  “He’s not. In fact, he’s in one hell of a rage and ready to tear us apart.”

  Declan frowned. “Ye dinna have to look so smug ‘bout it, Captain.”

  “I trust we’re prepared?”

  “Aye.”

  “Good. That should have been sufficient provocation. I want us ready to respond accordingly after they fire.”

  “An’ until then? Ye intend us to sit here, defenseless, an’ wait?”

  Guinn smiled. “I never said we’d be defenseless.” He glanced over his shoulder to the open door of the chart room.

  Laria raised her arms and called softly, “Khordol.”

  Declan glared at Guinn. “Why the bloody hell would ye drag her into this?”

  “I asked to help, Declan,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked incredulously.

  She placed a soothing hand on his arm. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it. This is my home too; I want to help defend it.” Her gaze hardened. “I’m going to do it, Declan.”

  Gritting his teeth, he looked away from her. “That doesna mean I have to like it.”

  “Let her concentrate, man,” Guinn said, pulling Declan back to strategize. “I need everyone at their best. If she wants to be a part of this, I won’t deny her. We can definitely use her magical prowess.”

  “This is madness,” Declan said under his breath. Aloud to Guinn he said, “Orders, sir?”

  Guinn looked out to the Lightning. “They’re moving into a better firing position, coming right to us. As soon as their first volley has bounced harmlessly off our shield, Laria will drop the barrier and we give them hell.”

  “Any quarter for prisoners, sir?”

  “I seriously doubt that Archer will offer any of us such courtesy, so we shall respond in kind.”

  “Understood, Captain.”

  Guinn grinned in anticipation as the Lightning turned and presented her starboard flank for a broadside volley. He leaned on the rail, practically daring Archer to take off his head. Every single gunport on the Lightning was open, a gleaming black cannon mouth gaping from each, and every one salivated ravenously for a taste of the Grimoire. Knowing that all eyes on deck were locked on him and every man awaited his command, Guinn raised his sword.

  The Lightning disappeared behind a thick bank of smoke a split second before the concussive blast rolled across the water. The shield around the Grimoire flickered when the cannonballs hit, but it held fast. Guinn slashed his sword down, unleashing the full brunt of his fury. Like a machine, the crew responded immediately and efficiently, their actions timed in perfect synchronization. The shield came down in the same instant the gunports flipped open, and the deafening roar of the Grimoire’s answering barrage rattled the timbers all the way to the keel. Goose flesh rolled its way up Guinn’s arms and raised the hairs on his neck as the thrill of such a well-coordinated attack sang through his veins. Hearing Beckett’s faint voice below calling for chain shot, Guinn knew the next volley would devastate the Lightning’s structure. But he also knew that Archer would be ready to fire first. Sacrificing both the protection of Laria’s shield and the destructive force of their simultaneous shots, Guinn ordered the gunners to fire when ready and get off as many shots as they were able.

  “Laria,” he called to his wife, “throw whatever you’ve got at them.”

  She nodded and hurled spells at the other ship.

  “They’re advancin’, Captain,” Declan warned.

  “Then let’s make damn sure we’re ready.”

  Guns blazing on both sides, the two ships were soon close enough to board. Archer ordered grappling hooks and his men swung across to invade the Grimoire. Guinn tightened his grip on his sword but remained on the bridge to protect Laria.

  Declan jumped down to the main deck to join the men in the fight. A soft laugh began in his mind, filling his senses. He growled and pushed back against it, dreading the distinct slipping feeling as his attempts to control his parasite continued to weaken. He squeezed the hilt of his sword, his knuckles whitening with the strain.

  You continue to fight me.

  “I will always fight ye an’ yer evil.”

  Even when I can help you? When I can make you invincible? The two of us together can ensure victory. We can keep her safe.

  Declan’s pained gaze lifted to Laria standing just behind Guinn on the bridge.

  All you have to do is loosen the leash, just a little, Ashur whispered soothingly, and Declan shuddered, convinced he could feel the humid breath against his ear.

  With a frustrated groan, Declan closed his eyes and allowed his body to release its tension. A surge of incredible power filled him, galvanizing his mu
scles and pumping boundless energy from his core outward. “I willna allow ye to take o’er, fiend.”

  Just don’t let me down, mortal.

  There was an awkward hesitation when the men from the Lightning alighted on the deck of the Grimoire. Many men from both crews had known members of the opposite company for years; several had even been schoolmates. They never expected to be pitted against each other in battle.

  “What the bloody hell are ye dogs waiting for?!” Archer berated from the bridge of the Lightning. “They stole what belongs to us! Get it back, or I’ll keelhaul the lot o’ ye!”

  One of Archer’s men, a huge, muscled brute wielding two curved scimitars, finally broke the tension with a bloodcurdling battle cry and rushed forward. It was all the encouragement the others needed to engage, and the fight erupted in earnest.

  Tate spotted Declan in the crowd and broke away to speak with him. Grabbing the man’s arm, he ducked, knowing Declan would swing instinctively in the heat of battle. “Maclairish!”

  Declan pulled his next swing as he recognized who had grabbed him. “Bloody fine way to find yerself wi’out a head, Tate!”

  “I need to speak with you.”

  Declan shook his head. “I’m under orders to kill anyone from the Lightning. I reckon ye’ve similar orders yerself, Tate. So what’s it to be? Ye want to deal wi’ me? Or ye want to explain it to Archer an’ take yer chances wi’ him?”

  “I don’t want to kill you, Maclairish,” Tate pleaded. “There’s something you need to know about what you have.”

  Declan cast a wary glance over his shoulder at Guinn, gauging the captain’s preoccupation. Then he lunged at Tate. Tate parried easily, as Declan knew he would. “Ye have two minutes, Tate,” Declan hissed over their locked blades. “But ye better make this look good. I dinna intend to face Guinn’s wrath for insubordination.”