A Curse of Magic

by Marisa Claire

  I take the spot closest to the front window. My gaze drifts up the road to where Favian was brutally sentenced to death yesterday. There’s no sign of his body or that he was ever there. I could have been killed myself.

  Any desire to eat leaves me.

  Asher wraps an arm around my lower back, pulling me in closer to his warm body. “Hey, you can’t keep thinking about last night,” he says, as if reading my mind. “You’re the one who’s always telling me how we should live the best life we can and hopefully one day everything will be different around here.”

  “It would be so much easier if I wasn’t required to do this stupid tradition. If the land outside the Queendom wasn’t radiated, I’d make you and Mama pack your bags and we’d seek our fortunes.”

  Asher pulls my hand into his lap. “I’d follow you anywhere if we could go.”

  The soft blue of Papa’s eyes set in his frail face pops into my mind. He got sick by extending his scavenging beyond the borders. He desperately wanted to provide for us, and the ruins beyond the town, inside the borders, were becoming barren of anything valuable. It only took a few weeks before he withered away to nothing.

  A bellowing horn triumphantly sounds in the distance, pulling my attention from Asher and my thoughts. People in the street begin to stir.

  They’re coming.

  Rising from the bench, I yank the front door open and step out to stand on the entry porch.

  A slow procession of elegant horse-drawn carriages rolls down the road in-between lines of Relic citizens. Silver gilt outlines the beautifully lacquered blue oak panels covering the first two lead transports. Five rows of privileged older women and men ride atop each carriage. Even from here, the regal gowns these living elders don contrast sharply with the dull setting of Arlos. It’s as if we’re supposed to think of the rich as gods.

  But they’re nothing more than a symbol of handed down wealth and status—former winners of the almighty Transfer of Life Ceremony. None earned their place, but the fact doesn’t stop the chosen from wearing their arrogant smirks. I guess I shouldn’t really blame them. It’s the House of Lore that chooses the ideal candidates who will remain loyal to the Queendom—those who receive their markings.

  Behind the Elders’ carriages trot two majestic horses mounted by Royal Guards. The Guards wear the same outfits and carry the same staffs as the one who murdered Favian yesterday, but I can’t tell if that man is one of these horsemen.

  Around the bend in the road, a sleek, matte silver craft magically hovers a few feet above the dirt street. Not pulled by horses, this craft glides silently behind the Royal Guards. The same power that resides in those deadly staffs must course through this impressive vehicle. Behind glass windows sits a female Council of Lore member. I can’t quite make out which one she is. The Council consists of four women and two men, handpicked by Queen Isolde herself. These six manage the daily affairs of the land, as well as administer the Transfer of Life proceedings. Three more Royal horsemen surround this craft, their staffs pointed at the people who line the street. No one would dare move on the Council’s transport. Especially not after yesterday.

  Not sure why I do it, I stretch my neck out to see if the Queen is attending. I’ve only seen her once, and not up close. She’s never attended one of these ceremonies. Even though she’s done nothing for the Relic class, her presence here would be a sight, for sure.

  Arlos has a town center with a decent sized stage. That’s the only reason anyone important comes here, since they wouldn’t dare hold the Ceremony at the castle. Our peasant filth might tarnish their pristine grounds.

  The Royal procession moves toward the town center at the end of the road, people following like herded sheep.

  “We’d better go,” Asher mutters.

  “Yeah.” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Continue Crown of Lore Now

  Acknowledgements:

  Special thanks to Torment Publishing! Without you this book would not have happened. I love you guys.

  Thanks to all the early readers and the support of my fans.

  Thanks to my family for their support!

  Credits:

  Chase Night – Editor

  Jack Llartin – Editor