Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) Jessie Eaker (best reads txt) 📖

a bright light from above sprang to life, making me shield my eyes. When I could finally see again, I realized I was in a large circular chamber, completely empty and with no other doors.

An elegant mural, painted directly on the curved wall, adorned the chamber. It was exceptionally well done and in the same style as the ones I had seen before in the crypt of the Mirror of Bygone Tears. And even after the passing of a thousand years, the picture’s colors were crisp and bright. It looked like it had been finished just yesterday.

I studied it, thinking it might provide a clue to the key’s whereabouts. The mural’s subjects were eight life-size pictures of men and women wearing stately robes and evenly spaced around the room. The background behind each varied but seemed to be some sort of court scene. The renderings were so lifelike it looked like they could start talking at any moment. A master artist had indeed painted them. I could easily imagine myself appearing before them in a great hall.

All but two of the figures were standing. The seated man and woman wore crowns and perched on what looked like finely crafted thrones. There was no doubt the seated pair were rulers, maybe even king and queen. To my surprise, I thought I recognized at least a couple of the faces from a vision I had received on Mount Eternal. But it was the seated woman that drew my attention. I stepped forward and examined her closely. I had seen an older version of her in a dream I’d had only a few weeks ago. I knew with absolute certainty who it was.

Evelend. The genius behind all the ancient artifacts and weapons.

And Abe’s creator.

At the time of the portrait, she was in the prime of her adulthood with brilliant red hair, gentle eyes, and a confident smile. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was like. While I hadn’t noticed it in the vision, I could faintly see a resemblance to Zofie in this younger version. She could very well be one of Zofie’s ancestors, a thousand years removed. No wonder Zofie was so damned smart.

It also begged a larger question. Evelend must have been a queen, yet why was there no record of her? It didn’t make sense. There was definitely something amiss. I sighed. But that would have to wait for another day.

As I counted through the portraits, I noted an irregularity. I had initially thought the figures evenly spaced along the wall, but that wasn’t entirely correct. One section of the mural on my right had a gap, as if the artist had allowed enough space for one last person, but never included them. It reminded me of the missing symbol on the entrance to the crypt of the Mirror of Bygone Tears. There, the empty spot had been reserved for the Thief of Curses. Could this also be the case?

I moved to the spot and cautiously touched it, but nothing happened. I ran my hand across the wall but found it perfectly smooth, without a hidden seam or crack that might conceal another door.

I sighed in frustration and turned once more to scan each of the pictures. I had expected there to be at least some clue as to the key’s location. But no such luck. Other than the portraits, the room was empty.

Was this chamber just to honor those long dead? While the explanation didn’t seem exactly right, I couldn’t think of another purpose. I guess I needed to look elsewhere. This room was a dead end. As I was leaving, I paused at the doorway and gave the room one last look. My eyes flicked to each of the portraits before turning away.

I froze and looked again. Evelend’s figure frowned back at me. I blinked. Hadn’t she been smiling a moment ago? I shook my head. I must not have been paying attention.

I glanced into the darkness outside the entrance. This had been a waste. I hoped there were other clues in the ruins above. “Well,” I said aloud. “At least there’s no monsters.”

“Oh, there might not be a monster, but there is a murderer here,” came a female voice from behind me.

My eyes went wide. I drew my sword and whirled about. To my amazement, the picture of the queen had changed. She now stood beside her throne and glared at me.

And then she moved, pointing an accusing finger at me. “And that murderer is you.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Unpleasant

Visions

That was enough for me. I tried to run, but for some reason, my legs were frozen to the spot. I couldn’t move. I looked up at Queen Evelend. She now stood with hands clasped before her.

“Why have you trapped me?” I asked.

“Because you are a truly heartless murderer. And not only that, but a thief of other’s good fortune. You steal their luck to save yourself, even if it means their death.” She spread her arms, indicating the others in the room. “And now it’s time for you to be judged by my council.” She raised her voice. “I declare my court in session.”

Suddenly all of the mural figures surrounding her started to move.

Some of the figures slipped to their neighbor and whispered in their ear, others turned an admiring gaze on the queen, while the king leaned forward and slit his eyes, examining me closely.

This was some kind of myst trick. I struggled to pull my feet free.

Queen Evelend moved toward her throne, and with a flick of her skirts, sat down on it. She turned to the king, “Your majesty, I charge this man with murder. Murder of the worst kind—premeditated and cruel. Even his family was not spared.”

The king lifted his chin. “Coren Hart, Thief of Curses, what say you to