Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Just clean it up when you’re done,” I mutter, leaving Baelfire alone in the apartment.
I’m halfway through Everbound on the way to Maven’s dorm when the interim headmaster spots me in the hall and approaches, calling out my name. I try to ignore the lingering suspicions clinging to my skin. It casts everyone in a darker light, and I can’t help eyeing Mr. Gibbons more than usual.
He’s a brown nose, constantly checking in on me, expecting to impress me with preferential treatment. Everyone knows I became the Garnet Wizard’s apprentice after the deaths of most of my family. Since the mysteriously wealthy Garnet Wizard donates hefty sums to Everbound, Mr. Gibbons must see me as a cash cow to cozy up to.
I despise that he thinks I’d appreciate preferential treatment.
“Mr. Crane,” he says with a smile, stopping before me. “I see you out and about by the break of dawn so often, long before any classes. A truly admirable quality. If only more of the other legacies were like you.”
“If they were more like me, we’d all kill each other within a week.”
He tries to laugh it off like I’m joking. Never mind the fact that I can’t lie, even in jest.
“What a sense of humor you have. We might be descended from monsters, but we do have some decorum. You know the rules about killing. Of course, we must still allow the weak to be weeded out—but that’s just how things have always been at Everbound. It’s the way of legacies.”
Annoyance prickles at me. The longer he gabs, the shorter the window of time I have to invite Maven to breakfast. “Is there a point to this discussion, Mr. Gibbons?”
“Indeed, I wanted to inquire about what emphasis you and your rather impressive quintet are leaning toward next semester. Everyone is curious to see what you’ll choose, and I’d like to make sure you get first pick at classes.”
Ah. He wants to know how to give me even more preferential treatment moving forward.
I should have anticipated this.
Until First Placement, students will go about their regular classes from this semester as they get to know their matches. But starting next semester, new quintets will study and train together, whether their group is complete or not. Our individual rankings will change into quintet rankings, with cutthroat competition to establish the most powerful. After graduation, those rankings carry over into where we will be assigned for active combat.
Most legacies are assigned to guard and patrol the Divide, which is a large demarcated border extending all along the eastern border of North America and most of South America. It’s where the Nether is kept at bay, frozen through the efforts of legacies so it will spread no further into the mortal realm. We’re responsible for hunting down anything that escapes.
But not all quintets are stationed there. We get our assignments from the Immortal Quintet, who might instead send us into private security positions, roles inside the legacy government, protecting the temples of the gods, or even allow us to live in the high society of legacies—a spoiled, pampered lot who rarely get their hands dirty with real work.
Everett’s family falls into the last category. It’s why he was bragging about his ability to give Maven a life of security and protection. I don’t mind that idea. I’d prefer to have my keeper far from danger. Especially because I’m positive she isn’t competitively ranked here at Everbound, so she’s likely not skilled with magic.
“So, which emphasis are you and your matches leaning towards?” Gibbons asks, cutting into my thoughts. “Defense and combat? Holy guard? Covert operations? Or perhaps a less common emphasis, like administration or human relations? We need more valuable quintets to help the rapport between humans and our kind, after all, since it’s taken a nosedive for the last twenty or so years. They’re such squeamish, mistrustful creatures—meaning no offense to your keeper’s family, of course.”
That captures my attention. “Maven is from a human family?”
He blinks. “Why, yes—you didn’t know? She came to Everbound a mere two weeks ago as a newly manifested atypical caster. Not from a magical bloodline at all. You know how magic sometimes pops up within humans with no prompting, entirely of the will of the gods. I thought she would have told you that by now…but then, she is rather a tight-lipped little thing.”
I consider this new information. Atypical casters aren’t affected by the Legacy Curse, so they don’t have the same burning desire to find their quintet to finally feel complete and break their curse as the rest of us. Is that why Maven talked about rejecting us? Does she find the idea of binding her heart to four monster descendants terrifying?
It just adds to my many questions, and I regard Gibbons. Perhaps his brown-nosing isn’t so problematic after all.
“Tell me more about Maven’s family.”
He strokes his white beard nervously. “Well, now…when it comes to her family, I’m afraid all I know is that they passed away while she was a child. She has no emergency contacts to speak of.”
She’s an orphan like me.
Not bothering with more small talk, I leave the interim headmaster to go to her dormitory. I don’t want to miss the chance to talk to her before classes begin.
When I finally arrive in the hallway where her dorm is, Maven is just leaving her room. She spares me an impassive glance before walking past as if I’m not studying her.
I can hardly help it. She has such a unique type of beauty—subtle yet complex. Today, her dark hair is swept into a braid over one shoulder. She’s again dressed in ill-fitting clothes several sizes too big for her, and I note that she’s wearing the same pair of leather gloves she wore yesterday.
Interesting. Is she germophobic?
I quickly catch up to her. “I trust the dreamcatcher came in handy.”
No reply.
“Someone left you a necklace. Was it one of us, or is it from an outsider woefully mistaken in thinking you’re on the market?”
Just the idea of someone outside our quintet sniffing around Maven, taking up her time, eyeing my keeper…my jaw clenches.
“I’ve never been on the market,” she drawls.
I drop the subject as we walk through the vaulted stone hallways. “I’ll treat you to breakfast.”
“Not hungry.”
“Lunch, then. Later on between your classes.”
“No.”
She’s stubbornly not looking at me. I’m unaccustomed to trying to pique someone’s interest since too much of my time is spent avoiding people who won’t leave me alone. I also haven’t had a strong interest in women over the years, outside of brief instances of sexual relief. After all, having a close relationship with someone just opens the door to more ways they can betray you.
Paranoia makes a poor bed companion.
But if she’s so intent on ignoring me, I may as well test her resolve.
“How did your family die?”
Maven slows to face me, expression unreadable. We’re close to Everbound’s largest courtyard, which houses a massive greenhouse. I can smell the sunlight and soil from here.
“Slowly and painfully, or so I was told. How did yours die?”
She doesn’t bat an eye, but her voice has an edge. She wants no sympathy, and something in my chest melts slightly. I understand that part of her. I hate sympathy, and I especially hate when it’s offered for my family’s demise.
“Most of them killed each other,” I quietly confess. “Including my parents.”
In front of me. When I was thirteen.
There’s a faint flicker of something in Maven’s eyes, perhaps even empathy, before she turns to enter the empty greenhouse. I follow, determined to make more progress.
“Do you always come to the greenhouse first thing in the morning?”
“I am a botany aficionado.”
I study her. If she’s telling the truth, why haven’t I seen her in the greenhouse more often? I’m here frequently since I have a plot of thriving plants in one corner. An affinity for nature is the one thing I look back on with fond memories passed down from my family.
Is Maven the same way?
I gesture at a nearby cluster of white-petaled flowers. “What do you suppose this is?”
I already know what it is, but it’s not an outright lie to feign ignorance. I’m testing her.
When she speaks, her voice is flat and monotonous. “Death camas. Also known as meadow death camas, which is a part of the Melanthiaceae family. The leaves, bulbs, and flowers are all poisonous, but that poison is far more potent when the plant has been dried. Not usually fatal to consume in small amounts, but it can cause severe illness.”
Then her eyes sweep to me, and she looks unimpressed. “It looks remarkably like wild garlic blooms to the untrained eye. I’m sure that’s the answer you were testing against.”
Impressive…and perceptive.
Curious, I point out another plant. Not only can Maven identify the plant, but she knows an array of facts about it as well as the potions it’s commonly used in. Without my prompting, she moves on to another, and another…and another. Her voice is a measured drawl. Most people would find it dry and uninteresting. Incredibly dull, even.
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