In the dark, I saw something.

  Through the pain, beneath the weight of the curse, something else pressed in. A presence I had never felt before. Vast. Wrong.

  My mind reached for it.

  Red tendrils tore through my thoughts, scattering them.

  A voice drifted through the haze, warped and uneven, like sound through water.

  Something stirred close. Beneath me.

  The voices echoed from far away, from somewhere I couldn’t reach or picture. Pain smothered everything else. I tried to call out. Anyone. Anything.

  To make it stop.

  No sound left my mouth. No one came.

  Except something.

  A deep, distant echo.

  That stirring again. Closer.

  The pain ebbed. The curse loosened its grip.

  I was too weak to move.

  Too weak to understand.

  “Wake up!” A clearer voice cut through the fog. “Sean!”

  I tried to open my eyes. Nothing happened.

  A breeze washed over me. Warmth spread across my skin, like water soaking into stone. It didn’t banish the pain, but it woke me enough to drag in a sharp breath.

  I focused on breathing. In. Out.

  “Sean!”

  Doyle’s voice. He was above me.

  My eyes finally opened. The room lay washed in eerie twilight. Doyle hovered over me, alarm plain on his tiny face.

  “You alive?” he asked.

  I gave a rough sound that passed for yes. That was all I had. I took in my surroundings. At some point I had curled up on the floor and passed out.

  The episodes were usually brief. This one had lingered far too long. Maybe the magic in this place had fed it. The thought sent a chill through me. If the curse hit harder here, things could spiral fast.

  My muscles shook as I forced myself upright. Every movement scraped against raw nerves, but I planted my feet anyway.

  I swallowed. Blood and bile coated my tongue. “I’m okay,” I croaked.

  Doyle didn’t look convinced.

  “You may look fine,” he said, “but you don’t sound it.”

  I nodded. The medallion was probably hiding the worst of it.

  “This path you’re on,” Doyle said quietly, studying my face, “it’s harder than Jerald made it seem. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.”

  I shook my head. “No. I have to get rid of this.”

  As my vision cleared, I looked down, expecting blood.

  The floor was spotless.

  “That’s odd,” I said. “Did you clean?”

  Doyle frowned. “Not since yesterday.”

  I studied him, then the floor again. I could have sworn I’d bled everywhere when I collapsed.

  “Well,” Doyle said after a moment, “I don’t think tutoring tonight is wise. But I can put on an early dinner. Help you recover.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. That would be good.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  He was helping me far more than he had any reason to. Most people flinched once they realized what I was. Some didn’t even bother hiding it. Maybe Doyle owed Jerald. Maybe he owed my family.

  I watched his face as he watched me. The concern there looked real. No hesitation. No calculation.

  “Thanks,” I said again.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. “Once you’ve steadied yourself, meet us in the kitchen.”

  After he left, I let out a slow breath and crossed to the window, closing it with a soft click. My reflection hovered faintly in the glass. The medallion was still working. A red-haired stranger stared back.

  The disguise wasn’t flattering. Wide nose. Soft features. A harmless, almost foolish look. I touched my jaw, my cheeks. My fingers met shapes that weren’t really there.

  The magic felt wrong.

  Or maybe I was just too aware of the curse beneath it.

  Either way, I needed to be careful. I didn’t want what happened to Nick becoming routine. That was how people ended up hunted.

  I sighed, irritation bubbling up again at how quickly people reached for fear. Fear of anything they didn’t understand. Fear that curdled into ignorance, then mobs, then bad decisions.

  Fear the almighty, fainting Sean.

  I snorted quietly. The terrifying, skinny boy who might bleed on you. The idea of me hurting others on purpose was absurd to me. I lived with pain every day. The thought of forcing it onto someone else made my stomach turn.

  Most people, anyway. Nick was a special case.

  “Alright,” I muttered, reaching for the door. “You’ve got this.”

  “Dinner’s on!” Doyle called from the kitchen.

  Amelia was already halfway down the stairs.

  That girl seriously loved her food.

  I followed her into the kitchen, hit immediately by the smell of pastry. Rich. Warm. My mouth watered. Doyle, wearing a white apron and thick gloves, hauled a massive pie from the wood-fired oven.

  “Meat pie?” Rob said, grabbing plates.

  “Steak and bacon,” Doyle corrected.

  “Nice,” Amelia said.

  Rob laid out the plates while Doyle cut into the crust. Steam rolled free, thick with the scent of perfectly cooked meat beneath golden pastry. A heavy slice landed in front of each of us.

  Before I could react, the other two were already eating, less like people and more like starving animals.

  I hesitated, staring at my plate. Sitting down. Eating with others. Almost like a family.

  I took a bite and nearly broke.

  It was incredible.

  “Can you cook, Sean?” Doyle asked once I swallowed.

  “Cook?” I said. “Yes. Like this? No chance.”

  He laughed.

  Suddenly, the others’ enthusiasm made perfect sense.

  The pie was absurdly good. I had no idea how he did it, but Doyle had taken cooking to an entirely different level. I watched as he sampled his own work, then frowned.

  “Six out of ten,” he said. “Overcooked the steak.”

  I stared at him. “That’s a ten.”

  I took another bite.

  The others nodded in agreement.

  Doyle smiled politely, though he still looked unconvinced.

  Amelia finished her plate first. Then she reached for a second helping before anyone else.

  “So,” Doyle said, “how did the welcoming ceremony go?”

  Rob grunted and kept eating.

  “Ceremony?” I asked.

  Doyle nodded. “While you were asleep, these two went to watch the new Aspirants arrive.”

  “We need to know the competition,” Rob said.

  “Oh, you should have seen it,” Amelia said, eyes bright. “The clothes. The flowers. The music.”

  “And the nobles?” Rob asked.

  Her expression hardened. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  Rob twirled his fork. “Saw one noble in particular. Absolute nightmare.”

  “Robert,” Doyle warned.

  “I mean a real piece of work,” Rob continued. “Did nothing. Showed up late. Got handed a fifth-stage Blessing. And two fourths.”

  Amelia shuddered. “Don’t mention that weasel.”

  “Handed?” I asked, leaning forward before I could stop myself.

  I caught Doyle’s eye. He gave me a subtle look. Later.

  “Yeah,” Rob muttered, stabbing at his pie. “Some people just have it easy.”

  “That’s nobility,” Doyle said.

  “That’s wealth,” Amelia shot back.

  Doyle shrugged. “Often the same thing. With perks. And rules.”

  He looked at all three of us. “Which is why you might need an opportunity to gain new blessings of your own.”

  The pie vanished from my awareness.

  “Yeah?” Rob said, sitting up straight.

  “Tomorrow,” Doyle said, “I have a task for the three of you.”

  Amelia squeaked.

  “Hunting?” Rob asked.

  Doyle stared at him, looking tired for the first time.

  “No, Robert. Tomorrow I will explain the task you’ve been given. For now, rest.”

  Once dinner was done, we thanked him, helped with the dishes, and headed for the stairs.

  “And Amelia,” Doyle called, “if you want more pie, please take it out of your pocket and put it on a plate. You know how I feel about crumbs.”

  She froze. Her cheeks puffed as she pulled out two bulging napkins.

  “Sorry.”

  Doyle rolled his eyes as she grinned and transferred the extra portions onto a plate.

  I chuckled and started up the stairs. My legs still throbbed from the earlier curse episode, so I took them slowly.

  Amelia rushed past me, shooting me a quick, odd look that softened into a smile. She was still balancing a plate stacked with two more slices of pie and, somehow, a fresh mountain of toast.

  I really need to figure out how she eats that much and stays that skinny.

  I shrugged and headed for my room, only to find Rob waiting outside my door.

  “Hey, mate,” he said. “Didn’t really get a chance to say hi.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s been hectic.”

  He nodded. “The next few weeks are going to be rough.” His expression tightened. “I saw the other aspirants. If we don’t get stronger, things are going to get bad. So I talked with Amelia. Instead of competing, we want to work together. I help you, you help me. Maybe with understanding new blessings or whatever.”

  He said it seriously. No bravado. No joke.

  “If I can help,” I said, “I will.”

  His face lit up. “Good to hear. Teammate.”

  I chuckled as he headed off, not to his room, but back downstairs. Probably to train.

  As I watched him go, an unfamiliar tightness settled in my chest. I’d never had friends growing up. Being marked by a curse tends to drive people away.

  Could I get used to this?

  Real food. Real people. A place that felt welcoming.

  It was all new. Strange.

  But good.

  I smiled despite myself.