Page 9 of Once Charmed, Twice Cursed
It’s the first day of spring. Blue shadows layer the market square while icicles drip toward nonexistence, a steady dribble against the cobblestones. Half of Pine’s End browses in the newfound sunshine. The scent of roast mutton warms the air.
I’m trailing Brendan through the market, aimlessly enjoying the tender kiss of spring, when I spot the woman.
I stop in my tracks. It’s rare enough to encounter a stranger in Pine’s End—this town would barely exist if not for the cotton mill—but that’s not what has me frozen.
The woman is Marked. A black triquetra peeks through the ties of her cloak, but where my tattoo looks like a crown, hers is inverted. Its downward-facing point resembles a falling teardrop rather than the upthrust jewel of a diadem.
She’s...a Null.
My jaw slackens. I’ve never seen one of my counterparts before. They’re just as rare as Charms, and most don’t display the evidence of their curse so openly. They don’t show off their Marks, the way my parents insist I do.
Beside me, a woman with a toddler stops to pluck something off the cobblestones. “Would you look at that?” Pleasure thickens her voice. “Someone dropped an entire gold piece. What’re the chances?”
I barely register her pocketing of the coin. The chill nips at my bare throat as I start forward.
The Null doesn’t notice my approach. She stands at a tented stall, inspecting a bolt of sapphire silk. When I’m halfway to her, a crack echoes though the crisp air. A block of snow breaks free atop the stall and slides down the canopy, then lands directly on her head. Slush drips from her forehead and nose.
I stare in horrified fascination. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, but she doesn’t look surprised. Something flashes in her eyes—embarrassment, maybe? She brushes the frozen chunks away, her movements sluggish with resignation.
The stall owner offers her a rag. He hesitates upon seeing her Mark, but she snatches the cloth, anyway, then hands it back when she’s finished. Her dark brows carve a vee between her eyes as she hurries away.
I glance behind me. Brendan is distracted, haggling over a bar of soap, and I clutch my cloak closed to hide my Mark. I dart after the Null, intercepting her just as she ducks around a vegetable stand.
My free hand shoots out, clamping around hers. Bare skin to bare skin.
She turns to face me, puzzlement creasing her features. The crisp day—or maybe the snowball to the face—has coaxed color from her cheeks.
“What is it, sweetie?” she says. “Are you lost?”
My grip tightens. I don’t know how long this is supposed to take. No one does, considering it’s done so rarely. Some say a few seconds. Some say a few minutes. Some say it’s different every time, depending on the Null and the Charm.
My parents have always insisted I never chance it at all.
But now a buzz hatches in my fingertips, the tremor of two opposing magics equalizing across the bridge of our skin.
A heartbeat later, the woman realizes what’s happening. Her eyes widen. She tries to pull back, but I cling to her, reveling in the building tingle.
“Let go,” she hisses. “What’re you doing?”
“Don’t you want me to?” I say, plaintive. Because I do.
Iwant to.
“Yes, of course, but...but...you’re achild.” Panic pitches her voice upward.
One heartbeat. Another. The world narrows, locking us into a moment of cosmic convergence. The thrum of the market fades, until nothing remains but the accelerating hum of our joined hands.
A heady sense of release overtakes me. My luck is dying. Bleeding out. In another moment, there will be no more rules. No more being paraded around. No strangers clamoring to get near me, no stares glued to my chest as though I were born without a face.
The woman searches me with bewildered eyes. “Stop,” she says, and this time she yanks. Hard.
A pair of large hands clamps down on my shoulders,wrenching me backwards. The connection severs. A burst of magic crackles across my skin.
“Bria!” Brendan’s voice is thunder in my ears. He grips me by the shoulders and shakes me. “What’re you doing?”
I gape at him as spots burst in my vision and fade. For a moment, I wonder how he found me. Shouldn’t my luck have prevented it? But then my glance falls on the Null. She stands unmoving, a fist pressed to her belly. She’s still plenty close enough to cancel my luck.
Right.
