Free Cursed by Christina Bauer Page A

River.
    â€œThat’s quite enough,” said Rowan. “Everyone, take Jakob for a walk. Elea and I have things to discuss.”
    Jakob groaned. “But, Rowan—”
    Rowan rose to his full height and yanked Jakob up by his collar. “Walk it off. I mean it. This is my last warning.”
    Jakob’s head wobbled as he tried to meet Rowan’s gaze. “But you need me.”
    â€œNot enough for this.” Rowan tossed Jakob to the other Casters, who bolstered him enough to step away into the night.
    Once they were gone, I hugged my elbows for warmth. All of a sudden, I couldn’t remember when it had gotten so cold. Rowan wrapped a soft blanket around my shoulders and sat down beside me. “I’m sorry for how he acted. I should have stepped in earlier. Trouble is, we need a Necromancer for our plan to work. Believe it or not, he’s the best one we’ve met so far, except for you.”
    â€œIt’s fine.” Except that it wasn’t.
    â€œI don’t believe you.”
    I stared off into the darkness in the direction where Jakob left. What a mess of a man.
    Still, I had bigger things to worry about than a drunk. “Believe it. You and I are here because we have the same goal. Kill the Tsar. That’s it. I don’t want Jakob to distract us.”
    Rowan stared into the fire for a long time. His face turned still as stone. “True.”
    â€œGood.” It didn’t feel good, though, which was ridiculous. I still wanted to throttle Jakob with my bare hands. And I couldn’t stop wondering why that Necromancer was here, anyway. Jakob didn’t know what happened inside of a Cloister. I stared into the flames and thought of Petra’s final words to me about the Tsar’s experiments. “Hybrid magick. That’s why Jakob’s really here, isn’t it?”
    Rowan nodded. “Viktor’s developed special weapons with hybrid magick.” Rowan pulled a dagger from the holster on his thigh. “Viktor made this. We found it back in my homeland. That dagger will cut through anything, even enchanted armor. We’ve nothing to stop it. The same goes for Viktor’s magick. His incantations are immune to counter-spells.”
    Rowan handed the dagger to me and I turned it over. The blade had the look of whittled bone. “This is a Necromancer weapon.”
    â€œLook more closely.”
    I angled the dagger into the firelight. A delicate pattern of snake scales covered the blade. The small hairs on my neck bristled. “This has a protective Caster skin. I’ve heard about weapons like this.”
    From Petra. Viktor used something like this to torture her.
    I ran my fingertip along the flat of the blade. “Necromancer magick is singular. It should be impossible to layer Caster skin on top. How has Jakob has been trying to make this?”
    â€œAll we know is that he needs to pull the Caster magick into himself. But that hasn’t happened yet.”
    â€œWhat happened when he tried to push more Necromancer power into it?”
    â€œNothing.”
    I frowned. This weapon was almost vibrating, it had so much magick coming off it. I wonder what would happen if I tried to add to the Necromancer energy myself? I pulled Necromancer magick into my body, focused it in my left hand, and then pushed the energy toward the blade. A flash of purple light sparked from the weapon. Magick slammed into me, hard as a fist. I fell backwards and dropped the dagger.
    For a few long seconds, I could only stare at the play of stars overhead. The back of my skull ached. Before I knew what was happening, Rowan scooped me up and pressed me against his side. It must have been the shock of the magick, because his touch felt comforting.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked.
    I leaned into the warmth of his shoulder. It seemed to have been made to cradle my cheek. I forced my breathing to slow. “I’m fine.”
    â€œWhat