Cursed: Briar Rose's Story - Kaylin Lee Page 0,39

it. What are your orders?”

There was a wary tension in the room. It was near silent, though I sensed dozens had gathered near my bed.

“Elektra.” Piers’s voice was deep and solemn. “Is the device ready or not? Another delay—”

“It’s ready,” she hissed. “Are you?”

There was a skin-crawling pause.

“Yes.”

“We could always wait, you know,” Elektra sang teasingly. “Slaughter the soldiers, capture Zel, and then start the device. I don’t want you to miss the fun.”

“The device is our top priority,” Piers said stiffly. “And the land magic is nearly drained. We can’t take the chance that the device will be damaged or its activation delayed.”

“Surely we can handle a few magicless creatures, no matter how many weapons they carry.”

I forced my eyes to crack open. Piers stood beside a tall, crystalline structure. It was a statue, I realized as I squinted in the dark ballroom. A statue in the form of a tall, narrow-shouldered man wearing old-fashioned robes.

“We cannot take the risk.” Piers squared his shoulders. “Finish the Master’s work. Control the continent. Rule the weak.”

The mages gathered in the ballroom echoed his words, their voices high and excited.

“Let us have a toast,” Elektra said. She waved her hand. Goblets appeared in front of each mage.

Piers took his from the air and lifted it as he turned to face the group. I could just barely see his profile as he stood beside the tall statue at the foot of my bed.

“Seven hundred years ago, Death’s Master made us,” Piers said solemnly. “We were the strongest of his people—resistant to our True Names, powerful in magic, second only to the Master himself. He offered each of us a choice—to submit to his curse and rule with him forever, or to die at his hand. We chose life. Survival for eternity. We chose power, everlasting power, sustained by the will of the only one more powerful than us.

“When our Master sustained fatal injuries at the hands of those irreverent Fenra creatures, he knew that true dominion over the weak would be accomplished only in his death. He devoted the last of his will to the creation of our first sorbus seeds, the ancient rock that our ancestors had thought perished with their homeland.

“The seeds were planted in this very mountain. The rocks grew and were harvested. His magnificent crop of sorbus lines our crater now, and we are ready to enact the final step of his plan. Our patient obedience, dear brothers and sisters, has been rewarded at last.” Piers lifted his goblet higher. “To our great Master—to Death’s Master! May he rule eternally, even from the grave.”

Piers drank, then threw the goblet to the ground, where it shattered. He faced the statue, opened his arms wide, and threw his head back. “Let us finish his work!” he cried. Silver light shot out his body toward the statue.

A flash of bright light flared from the crystal statue, absorbing Piers’s silver light before it disappeared.

I blinked instinctively at the brightness, the barest flicker of my lashes.

Piers frowned at me. Had he seen me blink? His gaze locked on my face, his mouth parted in a surprise O, but it was too late. More silver rushed out of his body and swirled around the statue. His face slackened and his eyes went blank. He collapsed to the ballroom floor.

A surge of powdery, white wind rushed through the ballroom, encircling the statue. A high-pitched whine quickly built into an ear-piercing crescendo.

Elektra opened another curse. A fresh wave of silver engulfed the enormous statue. There was thunderous SNAP, and the statue disappeared, taking the wind and noise with it.

The dark ballroom was silent for a moment. Elektra stepped over Piers’s body.

“Our brother’s sacrifice has begun the work we’ve planned for centuries,” she cried, addressing the mages gathered before her. “We will honor his sacrifice by changing the plan.”

The mages stirred uncomfortably.

“We will not kill these soldiers. No. We will curse them.”

“But our brother said—”

“He was wrong.” Elektra tossed her thin hair and raised her chin. “It would dishonor our Master to kill everyone.”

“But our instructions were—”

“We’ll kill nearly everyone, of course. The rest of the continent will be dead in a fortnight, exactly as planned. But we’ll leave these soldiers alive for our continued dominion. You’ll find this well within the bounds of our curse.”

There was a thoughtful silence, then a few mages nodded, like they’d tested her words inside themselves.

“Do we truly need them alive?”

“No, no. But I’m certain we will want them. You will, especially.