Krysta's Curse (22 page)

From the bestselling paranormal author of
The
Whispers Series
comes a new fantasy saga.

Born with mark of the Mighty Hunter, Markus saves
his village from the brink of starvation — for whenever he releases
an arrow, his aim is true. But despite his skill and strength,
Markus is unable to confront his tyrannical father. Shamed by his
cowardice, he distracts himself by needlessly shooting the forest
creatures.

When Markus takes no heed of the village prophet’s
warning that his actions will attract The Hunter’s Curse—for every
animal Markus kills, his loved ones will suffer the same fate—the
Sky Goddess unleashes her ice dragon. Now, Markus must flee the
dragon without killing it … or his beloved brother will be the next
to die.

Read on for an excerpt!

“Hey, ho!”

The voice startled him. Instinctively, he looked up
while reaching for his boning knife. He swore under his breath.
What good would a knife do him now he was cursed?

He breathed a sigh of relief as Zier, the dwarf
trader, approached. A mountain of animal skins and other various
goods dangled from a large pack atop his broad back. The stocky,
red-bearded trader visited Markus’ village frequently during the
warmer season, trading pelts and just about anything else for
fruits and grains.

Markus wondered how he had failed to notice Zier’s
approach earlier, and derided himself for losing focus once
again.

“Put away your knife, boy hunter,” the man chuckled.
He thumped his chest. “It is only Zier!”

Markus could not help but feel annoyance at Zier’s
jubilant expression when his foot throbbed, and he was fatigued and
famished. But the trader seemed oblivious to his suffering.

Reminding himself to reign in his temper, Markus
fixed his gaze on Zier. “A hand up, please.”

Holding out his hand, Zier’s smile lit with
amusement. “Twist your foot, son?”

“Aye,” Markus grumbled, pulling himself up.

Zier did not pull, yet Markus knew his movements
were restricted by being laden with so many goods. Zier’s body
always moved stiffly under so much weight, making him resemble an
extension of his furs.

“These rocks can be tricky.” Zier nodded at the dark
crack from which Markus had dislodged his foot. “Many do not see
the ice until they are flat on their backsides or worse.”

“Aye,” Markus muttered again as he scowled down at
the dwarf, afraid to say more lest he berate the trader for his
indifference.

Zier fixed him with a quizzical stare. “Why so few
words?”

Exhaling, Markus rubbed a shaky hand across his
sweat-drenched brow. Until this moment, he had not realized how
much his limbs shook, but he felt the tremors in the marrow of his
bones. Throwing a glance behind him, he swore, seeing how quickly
Lydra was bridging the gap between them. “I must make haste.”

“Why? What brings you so far this side of the
mountain, boy?” As Zier spoke, his voice faltered as his gaze
trailed to the spot where Markus had been staring. “Great Goddess!”
he exclaimed. “What is that creature I see in the distance?”

“A dragon.” Markus sighed.

Zier’s eyes widened as he backed up with jerky
movements, nearly stumbling on a rock behind him. “Let us move,
boy. Methinks it pursues us.”

“Nay, trader, she pursues me.” Markus shook his
head, still hardly believing his present fate. “I must be off.”

“What has happened?” Zier’s words rushed forth as if
they were carried off by a great current of air. “Why does she
pursue you?”

“Madhea’s curse of the ice dragon,” Markus groaned,
feeling his insides churn as the truth of his plight settled in the
pit of his stomach. “I’ve no time for more words.”

Shaking his head in frustration, Markus proceeded to
limp toward the town of Kicelin, passing Zier who stood spellbound
with one hand splayed across his chest.

Cursing under his breath, Markus bit back a sardonic
laugh. He had thought to level his chances against the dragon by
injuring its limb, but, once again, the monster was at an
advantage.

“Do not tell me you go to Kicelin!” screamed Zier.
“My daughters live there!” With quick movements, the trader had
advanced upon Markus, grabbing hold of his elbow.

“I’ve no choice, trader!” Markus barked, while
jerking his arm out of Zier’s grasp. “I need supplies if I am to
reach Madhea at the peak. I must beg for her forgiveness. It is the
only way.”

Feeling the strained crack in his voice, Markus
broke off and lowered his head. His mind and soul were fraught with
emotion, and he didn’t trust himself to say more. An overwhelming
sense of despair hovered over him, threatening to swallow him
whole.

Having had such a difficult time traversing the
boulders at the base of the mountain, how would he cross the ice?
How could he hope to conquer Ice Mountain? Visions of Alec alone in
the hut, suffering starvation and sickness, filled his heart with
dread as he choked back a lump of bitter bile.

He had to climb the mountain. He must not fail.

Glancing back at the dragon, he was relieved to see
that the beast had stopped to nurse her injured wing. Dipping her
extended jowls into the crook of it, she licked her injury like a
feline cleansing her paw. The beast made an eerie sight. As she
buried her face beneath the translucent flap, the crimson glow from
her ominous eyes still shone through the curtain of icy
membranes.

“What supplies do you need?” Zier had dropped his
pack and was rummaging through a layer of furs. His face draped in
a heavy scowl, he was scattering pots and hunting knives with
erratic movements.

Markus had not realized the trader had acquired
quite so many goods. “Ice picks and spikes for my shoes,” Markus
blurted, while mentally trying to recount what he and his father
had used the one time they’d gone climbing. He shivered beneath his
buckskin cloak as a cold wind blew from the north. “And a fur would
be nice.”

“Here! Take these and go!” said Zier, shoving an
armful of supplies at Markus.

At that moment the ground shook and the dragon
roared. The beast had slipped again.

“Shield yourself!” Markus yelled while pulling his
sack over his head.

Zier ducked behind a large metallic disk. Alec had
once told Markus about a great army from below that had passed
through their mountain centuries ago. On their way to battle
another army, they carried large, circular shields of metal, which
they used to protect themselves from arrows. Markus thought such a
disk could come in handy when being pelted with falling rocks.

The gravel hit them in a rush and there came the
pinging sound of rocks deflecting off Zier’s shield. As soon as the
rocks stopped falling, Markus began to shove the supplies into his
pack. He looked over at Zier, who was hastily repacking his own
goods.

“What was that disk you used to cover yourself?”

“Nothing,” Zier mumbled.

“Do not say nothing,” Markus snapped. “It resembled
a shield.”

“Only a scrap of metal.” Zier shrugged, his eyes
widening as he glanced past Markus.

Markus did not want to look. He knew by Zier’s
expression that the dragon was advancing again.

“Then let me see it.” Unable to keep the tension
from his voice, Markus held out his hand.

Zier’s features twisted as if his face was tying
itself in a knot. “The shield is mine and not for trade.” Zier
pulled the disk to his chest like a child defending a toy.

The fine details on the copper-colored plate did not
escape Markus’ notice. It was etched with a strange looking, rotund
fish, sprouting a stream of water. Markus knew the beautiful object
was a prize to Zier, as it would be to any man, but he had greater
need of it. If it could deflect rocks, mayhap it could deflect the
dragon’s icy breath.

Zier carefully wrapped the shield in a large pelt
and draped it over his back. His lip turned down in a pout. Then he
raised his chin and shot Markus a challenging glare.

Markus nodded. “Mayhap the village has a
shield?”

Zier’s entire face dropped. “No!” He scowled, and
then swore, before slinging the disk off his back. “Here, take it!”
he cried, shoving the shield toward Markus.

“Thank you, Zier.”

Taking the shield in his hands, Markus was surprised
by the weight of it. For once, he was grateful at his advantage in
size, for he had to hold the object with a heavy grip. “I shall
return it to you when I’m finished.”

Zier’s face was ashen as he looked past Markus in
the direction of the advancing dragon. “No! Stay away from Kicelin.
I’ve heard tales of this curse. You will not bring Madhea’s wrath
upon our village.”

Markus shook his head. Once he’d won Madhea’s
forgiveness, all danger would be gone. “But I must repay you when I
return.”

A deep, bitter laugh resonated from Zier’s heavy
chest. Casting woeful eyes upon Markus, he reached up and squeezed
his shoulder with a thick, stubby hand. “You shall not return,
lad.”

Dropping his hand, the trader turned without another
glance, hauling his heavy-laden body across the rocks with
amazingly quick movements.

Markus’ heart seemed to plummet with Zier’s
retreating steps. If it were not for the advance of the beast, he
would have no more will to continue, but the ever looming threat of
the dragon pushed him onward and upward.

What new threats lie in wait for him once he scaled
the north face of Ice Mountain?

Available now at
Smashwords

A former Texas high school teacher, Tara
enjoyed coaching her writing team and even the hectic deadlines
that came with running the school publications. After taking a
break to raise her baby girl, Tara now works from home as a cover
artist.

In her spare time, Tara loves to read,
exercise and spend time with her family and friends. She
contributes the cover art for her own novels and has designed
covers for over 500 other books. She’d love for you to visit her at
www.tarawest.com where you can check out her Whispers series and
sample her artwork.