Cursed: Briar Rose's Story - Kaylin Lee Page 0,15

feeling sick as I recognized Raven’s handwriting and realized what they held. My file was halfway through the stack.

Briar Rose Mattas. A few sparse lines held a summary of my life, in terse words and phrases, including the days I’d disappeared. Whereabouts unknown, it said ominously. Returned unharmed.

Exemplary student, Raven had added in her notes at the bottom of the page. Physically among the best in her class. Receives instruction and correction without complaint. Obeys authority. The curse laughed at that, making my skin crawl with shame. Excellent with a crossbow. Hand-to-hand fighting and other weapons skills need improvement. Concern—anti-social. May not work well on a team.

The curse stopped laughing. Enough, it snarled. Go train.

I put the file back in the stack and went to the door, a weight lifting from my shoulders. At least I hadn’t been caught. And maybe I’d go through all the training and fail to find a place on a team, ruining the curse’s plan. I sped down the stairwell, eager to start exercising. Maybe the physical work would take my mind off the guilt of how I’d just crossed into criminal territory.

I sensed the curse coiling inside me as I went down the stairs, fury radiating from its tense silence. The sick fluttering in my stomach returned.

If the curse couldn’t send me to the crater on a team of Sentinels in order to lure Mom out into the Badlands, what would it do instead?

And how much worse would the new plan be?

“I know what you’re doing.”

I froze in the dim, first-floor hallway.

Dad stood before me, his brow furrowed.

“What—”

“I just want you to know I understand.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “I’m not going to stand in your way, Bri. Haven’t I proved that this past year? I know you want to be a Sentinel. I’m rooting for you, kid. You can do anything you set your mind to. I know it. And I remember what it was like to feel like I had to prove myself.” He rubbed his shoulder, rotating it like it pained him. “But I wish you understood you don’t have to prove yourself. At fourteen years old, you should be sleeping in like your sister, not coming in early to train like this.” He scrubbed his face, looking exhausted. “I know I can’t make you slow down, but please … would you please accept that I’m on your side?”

My chest hurt. For once, the pain was not from the curse. I met Dad’s gaze and tried to convey everything I couldn’t say. That I was sorry. That I loved him. That I was a traitor, working for his enemies and destined to ruin his—

Silence. The curse shot a bolt of pain into my heart. I kept my face blank on instinct, tearing my gaze away from Dad’s.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I need to get started,” I said stiffly. “If you don’t mind.”

He held still for a moment, and I thought he saw through me. But then he shifted, making room for me to walk past him toward the training rooms. “See you at home,” he said to my back.

I didn’t reply.

~

The snow in the training yard melted quickly in the afternoon sun later that day. Sweat dripped from my temples as I waited beside the other recruits. Somewhere behind me, spectators giggled and argued, but I was too exhausted to make out their words. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to watch this torture, anyway.

“Again!” Instructor Egan scowled at us over his gray mustache and beard. “Ready …” He raised his hand, then flung it down. “Go!”

I ran with the rest of the recruits, falling in just behind skinny Eugene and golden-haired Corbin. As usual, red-haired Tavar was in the lead already, his lanky form several strides in front of the nearest runner.

How many times had we run this course today? My lungs burned. Was this the sixth time? The seventh? My muscles protested, on the verge of giving up altogether.

The curse snarled at me. Weak, it huffed sneeringly. It jabbed my heart, the spike of sizzling magic causing a flash of vision-stealing pain.

My legs responded instinctively, my body clinging to survival like it had for the past year under the curse. It could control my body for basic tasks and speaking, but tended to rely on threats for training, since unconscious instincts like athletic coordination seemed to be beyond its complete control. Jittery fear propelled me forward, ever faster, as my vision cleared, allowing me