Cursed by Christina Bauer Page A

in our number,” said Rowan. “We needed a mage who understood Necromancer ways. Jakob is the finest independent we’ve met.”
    Interesting choice. The ways of life in a Monastery were very different from that of a Cloister. The Brothers made us Sisters look like wild women. They had regulations on how you could walk, talk, or even use the toilet. “Is that working out?”
    â€œNot well,” said Rowan. “Not yet, anyway. Jakob learned magick in a Sanctuary Fair. His knowledge of Cloister life is limited.”
    I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. A Sanctuary Fair was hardly a fit training ground for Necromancy. It’s where rogues went to cast sloppy spells for desperate people. Someone who grew up there would be next to useless in understanding a Cloister. “So, where are you getting your intelligence from?”
    â€œMost of what we’ve learned has been from infiltrating the traders who make deliveries to the back gate.”
    â€œWhich is why you need me.”
    â€œCorrection, that’s why we need you alive . But you’ll see that for yourself soon enough.”
    I shifted the torn neckline of my Necromancer robes. “I can’t see an agent of the Midnight Cloister dressed like this.” The dress was ragged, sure, but it also advertised my skill level.
    â€œRight. We’ve all manner of disguises here.” Rowan turned to the woman who’d spoken before. “Laurel, help get Elea dressed as a Commoner. I’m taking her to the marketplace.”
    Laurel jumped forward. After such a long day, she seemed like a chipper blur with her hazel eyes, golden hair, and a bright smile. If dressing Necromancers for market was strange to her, she didn’t show it. “Let’s get you ready.” She reached for my hand. I pulled away quickly.
    â€œApologies,” said Laurel. “I forgot how you Necromancers are.”
    I hugged my elbows. Back in the Cloister, you never touched another Sister. But being around people who weren’t in Necromancer robes? It reminded me of my life back on the farm. I used to give and receive hugs all the time. If I was going to play the part of a Commoner, then I’d have to seem a little less controlled. Laurel might be a good person to practice on.
    Laurel gestured toward one of the tents. “In here, when you’re ready.”
    I stepped into a snug space that was filled with waist-high baskets. Laurel followed. “Things in there should fit you.” She pointed to one of the baskets, and the motion highlighted a silver ring on her finger. The jewelry seemed so normal, like Laurel’s attempt at an embrace. What would a typical girl of my age say to something like that?
    â€œThat’s a, uh, pretty ring.” The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to pop them back in. Trying to act normal wasn’t a good idea for me.
    â€œThank you.” Laurel stared at me expectantly.
    I searched my mind for something else to say. “Are you a mage?” Those were the only kind of bands that I knew much about.
    â€œNo, it’s not that kind of ring.” Laurel beamed. “This shows that Orion and I just got mated. Our bonding animal was a ladybug.” She held out her hand for closer inspection. “See?” She tapped the tiny rock. “The stone is carved into a ladybug shape.” Laurel gripped my hand and gasped. “You have rings, too!”
    I was very proud of myself for not pulling my arm away. “Yes, I do.”
    â€œThey’re so interesting—silver with little white skulls.” She touched them all. “Oh, and the skulls are made from real bone, too. What are your rings for?”
    The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them. “Killing people. Well, a person.”
    â€œOh, I...” Laurel kept blinking at me. “Oh.”
    â€œBut I won’t kill you, of course.” My cheeks turned red. It served me right