Curse Painter (Art Mages of Lure Book 1) by Jordan Rivet

Author:Jordan Rivet [Rivet, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Darkness had fallen by the time Briar managed to drag Archer out of the village. He was more solidly built than his long limbs suggested, and she soon regretted not using an ambulatory curse. She’d been worried that getting out her paints so close to that elaborate curse would trigger its defenses.

It was difficult to keep the blue curse stone in contact with Archer’s skin while hauling him along the rough ground by his boots, and she eventually forced it into his mouth, hoping he wouldn’t swallow it. She could make him vomit out the stone, but she would already have enough explaining to do when he woke. She saw no need to make it worse.

The night was tranquil beyond the boundaries of the cloaking curse. Briar dropped Archer’s feet at the tree line and knelt beside him. His blond hair glowed in the moonlight, and his sleep looked peaceful—though artificially induced. She watched him for a moment, his chest rising and falling in his indigo coat.

Briar hadn’t wanted to believe it when she’d seen the painting of the snowy village in the inn. Only a few mages could create a curse strong enough to affect an entire town, so she’d had her suspicions, but the sight of that signature style had still been a shock. Instantly, she had been transported back to a studio near the sea, an owl-eyed man concentrating on a canvas bedecked in whites and blues, lead white for invisibility, azurite for anxiety, ultramarine for illusions, carbon black to bind it all.

A psychological curse, her father’s specialty. Donovan Dryden had left his mark on New Chester. She had thought she could escape him so far from High Lure, but he had come to the outer counties in the flesh to paint that image. Maybe he was still there. Fear squeezed at her innards, making her nauseous.

Briar had panicked when Archer moved to destroy the painting. All would be lost if they drew her father’s attention. She’d had no choice but to curse Archer to sleep. She had likely killed whatever had begun to develop between them in the process. Feelings of attraction aside, their trust in each other had been a fragile thing, like the first shoots in a spring garden. She had crushed it into the dirt in a matter of seconds.

Maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t escape what she was no matter how far she ran. Archer would never understand.

With a sigh, she fished the blue-smalt stone out of his mouth to awaken him. His eyes snapped open at once. He looked up at her leaning over him, her hair falling around their faces. A smile tugged at his lips, and a sort of painful breathlessness clutched at her chest. Then Archer’s smile faded, and she knew he was remembering where they’d been as he closed his eyes.

He sat up, reaching for his belt knife. “You cursed me.”

“I can explain,” she said quickly, scrambling backward.

“You’d better do more than that.”

“I had no choice.

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