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CURSE OF THE IMMORTALS
BOOK ONE
J. C. MCKENZIE
Contents
Books by J. C. McKenzie
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Characters & Terminology
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon..
About the Author
Books by J. C. McKenzie
The Lark Morgan Series
Death Stealer (prequel)
Death Maker
Death Raiser
Death Taker
Isle and Eyrie Series
Cormorant Run
Heir of the Eyrie
House of Moon and Stars
The Night House
House of Chaos
Crawford Investigations
Conspiracy of Ravens
Nevermore
Queen of Corvids
The Call of Corvids
From the Shadows
Into the Fire
Dark Legacy
Embrace the Flame
The Carus Series
Shifter (Shift Happens)
Beast (Beast Coast)
Demonic (Carpe Demon)
Cursed (Shift Work)
Carus (Beast of All)
Obsidian Flame
Dangerous Dreams
Dangerous Liaisons
Dangerous Decisions
That Old Black Magic
The Good Griffin
Standalones
Immortal Throne (with Harper A. Brooks)
Call of the Deep (The Shucker’s Booktique)
Stormbound (Be My Love)
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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COPYRIGHT © 2024 by J. C. McKenzie
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: jcmckenzie@jcmckenzie.ca
Cover Art: Hannah Sternjakob
Character Art: Koti Komori
Publishing History:
First JCM Publications Edition, 2024
ISBN: 978-1990143-48-9 (print)
ISBN: 978-1990143-49-6 (ebook)
To all the readers who wanted a love story for Artemis
Canadian Disclaimer
You're entering the creative domain of a Canadian author. There will be a combination of British and American spellings, a combination of measurement systems, and maybe even a little French thrown in to spice things up.
Happy reading!
Content Warning
This book contains content that may be triggering to some readers. For a list of potential triggers, please review them here
“Over the shadowy hills and windy peaks Artemis draws her golden bow…”
HOMERIC HYMN 27
1
All that crap could’ve been summarized in a single message. This entire trip was a waste of my phaaning time.
Rain splattered on my head and dripped down my face as I stomped through the forest bordering the nymph-infested river of Danu. I always left the city of Wast feeling dirty.
The broken buildings of the once thriving metropolis cast a long shadow over the river and surrounding forest as a reminder of the days before the phaanon and galeon war.
Though most of the city had been reclaimed, no one ventured into the ruins on the eastern side of the city. Not after so many went in, and so few returned. That section of Wast was left alone, a constant blemish on the growing city and a reminder of how a world full of technology and culture was so easily destroyed.
As one of the last phaanon strongholds during their ultimately unsuccessful war with the galeons hundreds of years ago, the ancient city had been decimated. Over time, a bustling community reclaimed the area despite crumbling buildings and cracked streets. Now, pickpockets milled in the crowded marketplaces and deadly thieves lurked in the shadows.
The phaanons were long gone now, as were most of the pureblood galeons, but the echoes of their existence remained.
Visiting a city built on death, ruins and poverty wasn’t why I felt dirty, though. No, it was meeting with Queen Titania, the leader of the forest hunters. The queen wasn’t much of a hunter so much as a politician, yet she’d maneuvered herself into a position where she could dictate the actions of everyone else.
Including me.
As one of the few galeons bonded to a familiar, I wasn’t just gifted with an ever-lasting lifespan but also an indestructible one. The queen of hunters had named me, Artemis, Guardian of the Forbidden Forest.
There wasn’t exactly a lot of competition for the role, and given the high level of danger, having an unkillable hunter in place made sense to everyone, including myself.
I protected the familiars who lived in the forbidden forest surrounding Wast—another remnant of the phaanons—but it also meant I had to attend the queen’s monthly meetings.
Despite my success as her one and only guardian, Queen Titania always spoke to me as though I were still the twelve-year-old child she’d pulled from the streets. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful for her intervention or the turn of events that granted me a better life. But she would never let me forget it, nor forget that I served her and always would.
Anger welled up inside of me. Saving twelve-year-old twins shouldn’t require a lifetime of indentured service as payment.
Not that I wanted to do anything else.
I’d never trade my familiar for anything in the world and protecting unbonded ones gave me purpose and validation. I wasn’t a victim of abuse from a rundown orphanage. I wasn’t a good for nothing street rat.
I was a protector.
An image of Nala’s panting face with her tongue lolling out the side of her snout surfaced.
I missed her.
I’d left her at home because she didn’t like the city, or the queen anymore than I did. But now I wished I was already walking through my cabin’s door instead of looking at an hour-long hike through the forest to reach home.
Maybe this rain would wash away all the city filth before I made it to the cabin.
The City of Wast…
I always thought an “e” had been purposefully dropped from the name in an attempt to rebrand the city as something less disastrous.
I preferred the forest to the crowded streets of that city any day.
A growl rose from the surrounding trees. I straightened and turned toward the sound.
Nala? I leaned forward.
The sound of a sharp whistle pierced my ear. The unmistakable hiss of an arrow cutting through the air was a sound I knew all too well from training. The arrow narrowly missed me and struck the base of a tree to my right. Someone had just tried to end my life.
Without hesitation, I dove to the ground, the cold, hard earth meeting my palms as I rolled into a defensive crouch.
With a steady hand, I unsheathed my dagger and faced my attacker, the magic coursing through my veins calling for blood. But instead of a faceless enemy, I saw a man with rugged features and intense light brown eyes. He held his bow steady, aiming directly at me.
All that mattered now was survival. He was close, too close for the bow to be an effective weapon, but if he tried to drop it now and draw the dagger strapped to his thigh, I would gain the advantage.
He had one shot. One more attempt to take my life, and I’d be damned if I gave him an easy target. I clutched my dagger and leaned forward, ready to strike.
Before I could attack, a dark, furry figure leapt from the bushes and smashed into the hunter, clamping jaws into the man with a loud snap.
This wolf wasn’t Nala.
I straightened from my crouch as the wild animal tore out the man’s throat. Blood sprayed the damp path and my leather boots.
A wave of conflicting emotions slammed into me—relief, confusion and gratitude. My heart continued to race as adrenaline rushed through my veins. The danger had passed, but my body hadn’t received the message yet.
The wolf paused over the body, breathing heavy, before turning to me. Its yellow gaze flashed under the moonlight. I didn’t recognize this wolf. Granted, I didn’t know all the ones in the area, but I would’ve remembered seeing this one—all black, with blazing yellow eyes. I took several deep breaths and tried to shake away the urge to run.
“Thank you,” I said.
M
Maybe I shouldn’t listen to my gut which told me this wolf wasn’t dangerous. At least not to me.
Maybe I should talk to someone about my inner dialogue during dangerous situations.
The wolf huffed at me before springing forward. Its large fuzzy body brushed past my legs before it crashed into the bushes and disappeared into the forest.
I let out a long breath and my magic faded away, unused and angry. My gut served me well in situations like these and I couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t like I actually communicated with familiars. My brother claimed I was part wolf myself. Others in the town of Perga called me feral behind my back.
I didn’t care what others thought of me.
All I cared about was protecting the unbonded familiars in the forest and today, it seemed, one decided to return the favour.
2
Blake sighed and pocketed the message I’d scribbled for the queen. “You certainly keep me busy, Emi.”
“It’s all about the job security.” I winked.
Tall and lean, Blake had striking blue eyes and a mischievous smile. As the queen’s messenger, he travelled back and forth between Perga and Wast. Magic might’ve replaced the technology from a time prior to the phaanon and galeon war, but not instant messaging. No vehicles, either. Phones and cars only remained in story books that had crumbled with age long ago.
Now, the queen and king relied on messengers like Blake to distribute information and disseminate orders.
Blake’s gaze snagged on my blood-spattered boots and his grin faltered. “Good…hunting?”
I flashed him a closed-mouthed smile. Technically, it was good hunting for the wolf, but I didn’t want to get into details with Blake. The attack needed to be reported to the queen first—I’d rather she heard the information from me than from gossip.
“Did you just get back?” A familiar husky voice called out from behind me.
Blake stiffened at the sound of my best friend’s voice. He pulled his bag over his shoulders and turned to leave.
I spun to find Lesley sauntering over from the street that led to the center of town. She had a curvy, hourglass figure that made men and women drool. Coils of deep brown hair surrounded her heart-shaped face. With her full lips, large round eyes, cute button nose and slightly flushed cheeks, she always appeared as if she’d just been caught doing something incredibly naughty. She might look like sex personified, and she might joke around about casual liaisons, but my friend was more reserved than me when it came to relationships.
“Hey, Sley.” I waved.
Sley flashed me a wide smile, but she quickly narrowed her eyes as her gaze slid to something over my shoulder. Blake had slipped into the shadows of the forest.
“Hey, Emi,” she said. “Was that Blake?”
“Couldn’t tell from the red tips of his ears?”
“I don’t know why he’s avoiding me.” She frowned at the forest.
“Don’t you?” I raised both eyebrows. “He went to your place with a bouquet of flowers to profess his undying love and was greeted by Graham…and Graham’s cock.”
“I still can’t believe that idiot answered the door without his pants on,” Sley grumbled. Okay, she might be more reserved than me, but she wasn’t celibate. She’d had an arrangement with Graham for months, despite not liking him much. Perga had limited romantic options, unless we were willing to commute or take a chance on one of the transient hunters.
“Sley,” I said.
“What?”
“That’s not the point. The point is you know perfectly well why Blake is avoiding you. Graham made sure he told everyone and anyone who’d listen in an attempt to further humiliate him and to also keep your options limited. I can’t believe you let that jerk in your bed.”
“Me neither,” Sley huffed. “I dumped him, too. Blake didn’t deserve any of that, but we weren’t in a relationship. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve been trying to apologize for how he was greeted at my home, but how am I to make things right when he won’t even look at me?”
I grimaced. I was currently avoiding someone myself and didn’t have any answers for my friend. “Come on. You can have a drink at my place, and I’ll tell you how I got attacked coming back from Wast.”
“What?” Sley swatted my arm. “Tell me everything.”
So, I did.
I told her the story as we made our way down the forest path that led to my cabin.
My small home sat on the outskirts of the village near the tail end of the brook. I had long put out the fire from last night to stave off the cold, but the smell of smoke still clung to the air along with the sharp tang of pine.
As I stepped through the entrance, I hung my bow and quiver on hooks by the door. When I turned around, a wolf flew through the air, barrelling into me. The force of the impact knocked me over. My back slammed into the floor and the large animal smothered me with its fluffy body.
“Gah!” I attempted to fend off the tongue slathering my face. “Nala!”
My familiar yipped and backed up. She sat on her haunches beside me and opened her mouth to pant, her tongue lolled out the side.
“I wasn’t even gone a full day,” I said.
She slurped her tongue and continued to pant.
“I missed you.” I reached out and ran my hands through her fur. She ducked her head so I could scratch behind her ears.
“You two set a high standard for relationships,” Sley said as she stepped into the cabin behind me.
I scrambled off the floor and wiped my face. “You want to be slobbered all over?”
“Well…I wouldn’t say no…” She shrugged.
I laughed and shook my head. Before I could respond with something witty, Nala bumped into my legs before slipping out of the cabin.
“Let me guess.” Sley closed the door behind my familiar. “Workshop?”
I smiled and some of the tension from the meeting and attack eased away. My friend knew me well. “Grab the wine?”
“Of course.”
Sley sauntered off to my kitchen to grab the beverages while I made my way through the cabin to the back room that housed my workshop.
A large wooden table sat in the centre of the room with an assortment of arrow-making tools spread across its worn surface. A large fireplace lined one wall while a small table with two chairs were pushed against the other. A door on the far side of the workshop led to the outside and had a custom trapdoor built into the bottom portion for Nala to enter and exit as she pleased.
“I have something for you, too.” Sley walked into the workshop and set the bottle of wine and two glasses down on the side table. We spent a lot of time in this room—I made arrows while Sley sat in one of the chairs to the side and unloaded all the town’s latest gossip.
Sley pulled the strap for her shoulder bag over her head and slung the bag over the corner of her favourite chair. Flipping the top flap back, she dug into the leather bag to pull out a roll of twine. “For you.”
“Thank you.” I reached out and took the roll of twine from her and placed it beside my other supplies on the workbench. “But now I’m afraid to ask what it will cost me. I’m not into slobber.”
She giggled and flopped into her seat. “I think a bottle of wine sounds pretty good to me.”
