A Curse of Gold Read online

  PRAISE FOR A CURSE OF GOLD

  “A thrilling adventure and richly imagined take on mythology, A Curse of Gold is a golden conclusion to Kora’s story that’ll have you sailing through the pages to the unexpected ending.”

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR BRENDA DRAKE

  “Magic and mayhem, rogues and romance—A Curse of Gold dazzles with all this and more. A spellbinding adventure from start to finish!”

  SARAH GLENN MARSH, author of the Reign of the Fallen series

  “Traditional Greek mythology collides with new magical creatures in this adventurous sequel to Sullivan’s A Touch of Gold. The unexpected lies at every turn and will keep you constantly craving the next page!”

  SAVANNAH J. GOINS, author of The Gwythienian and The Crivabanian

  “Oh my, this book was perfection! Nonstop action, sweet romance, delightful mythology, glorious plot threads, and one of the most beautiful examples of friendship I have seen in a book—A Curse of Gold was all that I wanted and more. I cannot wait for the next adventure from this author! Love!”

  MICHELE ISRAEL HARPER, award-winning editor and author of Kill the Beast

  BLINK

  A Curse of Gold

  Copyright © 2020 by Annie Sullivan

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Blink, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-0-310-76831-9

  Ebook ISBN: 978-0-310-76825-8

  Epub Edition July 2020 9780310768258

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Sullivan, Annie, 1987- author.

  Title: A curse of gold / Annie Sullivan.

  Description: Grand Rapids, Michigan : Blink, 2020. | Summary: When Dionysus issues a challenge to destroy Kora and her kingdom, the princess with the golden touch sets out to find the tricky god and confront him on the mysterious disappearing island of Jipper.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2020013221 (print) | LCCN 2020013222 (ebook) | ISBN 9780310768319 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780310768258 (ebook)

  Subjects: CYAC: Blessing and cursing--Fiction. | Ability--Fiction. | Princesses--Fiction. | Gods, Greek--Fiction. | Sea stories.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.S8468 Cu 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.S8468 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]--dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020013221

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020013222

  * * *

  Any internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by the publisher, nor does the publisher vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of the book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Cover direction: Cindy Davis

  Interior design: Denise Froehlich

  Printed in the United States of America

  * * *

  2021222324/ LSC /10987654321

  To the best friends I could ask for:

  Alicia, Anna, Amy, Brynn, Carolyn, Christina,

  Elizabeth, Emily, Julia, Kristin, Liz, Mackenzie,

  Marija, Mary, Michele, Nikki, Rachelle, Rose,

  Savannah, Vinaya, Vivian, and Whitney

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  The last thing I want to do today is turn someone to gold.

  But as I pull on my gloves and take one last look in the mirror, I’m not afraid of what will happen if I do.

  I smooth down the blue fabric of my dress and run my fingers along the swirled silver threads running through it. I chose this color because Royce will be wearing blue at today’s ceremony reinstating him as a captain in the Royal Armada.

  I’m amazed at how well the dress fits. I finally found a tailor who was willing to take my measurements and touch my golden skin. He’d had a cursed grandmother—he knows curses aren’t contagious.

  Now I just have to convince everyone else. And that starts by not wearing a veil for my first major public appearance since recovering my father’s cursed gold.

  I tuck a few stray hairs back into the golden braid fashioned across the top of my head. Just behind it nestles a silver crown made up of twisted and climbing filigree roses. It had been my mother’s first crown. Each rose once held a ruby at the center, burrowed into the metal, but those spots are empty now; the stones were sold off long ago to keep the palace from running out of money, though my father hadn’t been able to bear parting with the crown itself.

  I straighten it one last time, ignoring the way the metal weighs down my head more than the veils ever did, and go over the faded words inked onto the crumpled pages of King Kalisrov’s journal, which I’d found in the library with the other historical documents.

  Never appear in public without a crown, the tiny script reads. That had been his top rule, as it showed everyone who was in charge.

  I read on. You should be so comfortable in your crown you are able to sleep in it with no discomfort.

  I scoff. I’ve barely mastered keeping the thing on my head. But as I look away from the fraying pages to the mirror, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right. Will the nobles respect me more now that I’m wearing one?

  There’s only one way to find out, so I throw my shoulders back and head out the door toward the great hall.

  Already a crowd has gathered beneath the gleaming chandeliers that swing above the aisle leading to two thrones. The nobles bow as I pass. But I hear mumbles about me not wearing a veil and how they always knew I was gold through and through. I tune them out and bustle past, concentrating on not letting my head dip low enough to let my crown slip. Wearing the crown instead of hiding my face is just one small step to show them I won’t be a ghost in the shadows anymore—that my father and I are here to rule.

  But I see the judgment in their eyes each time their gaze flicks up toward me. They don’t think I can do it. Or they don’t want me to. Because they still believe a cursed person is a ruined person. They assume I’m going to infect the kingdom and make it weaker than my father already did when he asked for the ability to turn everything he touched to gold.

  I ignore them and straighten my shoulders as I arrive at the thro
ne next to my father’s. My throne is smaller than my father’s, and the wooden seat isn’t comfortable for more than a few moments. I try unsuccessfully not to fidget. I cross and uncross my legs. Wasn’t one a sign of hostility and one of welcoming? If I’d had tutors when I was younger, I would know. But they’d all left after my father turned me to gold when I was seven.

  Despite what the nobles think, I’m trying very hard to educate myself and be the ruler Lagonia deserves, but there is still so much to study—and most of the month I’ve been back has been spent caring for my father, hiring new guards, and learning how to run a palace. I’ve only been able to sneak in a few books on the subject—like King Kalisrov’s journal. I just pray it’s enough to get me through today.

  Past the dais, Lady Lucar looks down her nose at me as I switch my legs back and forth trying to figure out what to do with them. I settle for crossing them at the ankles and shoot Lady Lucar the most regal look I can manage. She looks away quickly, so either my aloof air of power is coming across . . . or she believes the rumor that says I can turn people to gold simply by looking at them.

  Trumpets sound, echoing through the domed ceiling of the hall before reverberating back down. My father, King Midas, appears in the doorway. He’s shaved the scruffy beard he’d grown while I was gone, exposing the skin around his once strong jaw. Wrinkles have taken up residence under his eyes and across his forehead. He looks like a man twice his age, a leftover side effect of being cursed by Dionysus, and another reminder of why the nobles don’t want us to rule.

  He’s flanked by his new advisor, Tilner, who was hired on Royce’s recommendation. He’d been Royce’s father’s most trusted steward before he’d been sent away after Royce’s father was cursed, ruining the Denes family and leading people to attack the house and attempt to burn it to the ground.

  My father and I had worked to hire him together. It had been our first joint venture. The first time we’d worked on anything together since the day his unthinking embrace made me a golden statue.

  It had been difficult for both of us. He’d trusted my uncle Pheus as his advisor, and my father was still reeling from the revelation Pheus had helped Captain Skulls steal his gold, a betrayal that led to my uncle’s death.

  Tilner shadows my father down the aisle. He has a way of disappearing from view behind his king but is always there to offer a steadying arm whenever needed—an arm I had hoped my father wouldn’t need.

  I thought bringing back the cursed objects my father turned to gold would make him stronger—and he had received an initial boost of strength when they were reunited. But he’s still tethered to that infernal treasure, still looks to the tower that once again holds it, more than at me. And the gold still drains him, siphoning away his strength.

  He takes my hand as he reaches the dais. I help him settle into his seat. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before sliding past them to the tower once more.

  I squeeze his hand, bringing his gaze back to me, knowing he’s trying just as hard as I am to be the leader Lagonia needs.

  His eyes move to the crown on my head, eliciting a small smile, and I wonder if I remind him of my mother.

  He gives my hand a weak squeeze in return before turning back to the room.

  “Bring forth the candidate, Royce Denes,” he says. His voice barely reaches the nearest chandelier.

  The tall doors swing open to reveal Royce, his strong jaw set resolutely as he steps forward. As he strides forward, his sturdy form takes up all the space my father seemed unable to fill. He holds his hat under his left arm, right above his sword hilt, while his right arm rests stiffly against his side. Behind him, his crew waits in two lines. Together, they press forward.

  As they near, sunlight glints off the golden threads woven through Royce’s coat. But that’s nothing compared to the gleam of the golden tassels perched on each of his shoulders.

  I straighten my shoulders. I’d purposefully requested Royce wear a jacket with gold on it, to show that the monarchy wasn’t afraid of it anymore, that the metallic sheen doesn’t make us recoil in fear.

  But I barely notice the gold because my heart leaps when I see Royce’s bright blue eyes. He’s gotten a haircut since I last saw him. Gone are the long blond locks that the sea breeze would drag across his temples. He looks more refined now. Tamer.

  We’ve barely seen each other this past month. I’ve been busy helping my father run the palace, and Royce has been training to rejoin the armada.

  And now he’ll be leaving for three months on his ship’s maiden voyage.

  I swallow, remembering that wise Queen Teragram wrote that there is no ocean that can separate love, for it is a feeling and not a location. If she could survive ruling a kingdom under siege for two years while her husband was off at war, then I can survive three short months without Royce.

  It’s what rulers do.

  That thought steels me as Royce takes a knee before my father, lowering his head. Strands of hair fall forward. My fingers itch to swipe them back, so I instead run them along the thin necklace tucked under the high collar of my dress. The necklace consists of a string of pearls with one sunrise tellin seashell as a pendant. Royce grabbed it for me from the lair of the Temptresses of Triton, siren-like women who were once Triton’s lovers but who now lure men to their deaths with their enchanted voices and a trove of treasures.

  Royce could’ve grabbed any item he’d wanted from their trove, but he’d grabbed only this, saying the rays on the front reminded him of me, of the sunrise on the outside and strength on the inside.

  My father is supposed to stand to say his next words, but he doesn’t. “Do you pledge your loyalty, fidelity, and life to the kingdom of Lagonia, its rightful ruler, and those under their protection?” His voice is weak, and I doubt Royce can hear them. But he answers as though he has.

  “I do,” Royce’s voice rings out. It echoes through the hall in a way my father’s never will.

  “Do you pledge to protect Lagonia and her allies?”

  “I do.” His voice sounds deeper now. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. And something in me reacts to it. My pulse quickens.

  “Do you pledge to uphold the honor of all Lagonians as you sail the seas?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you pledge to uphold all Lagonian laws?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you pledge to serve and follow the commands of those outranking you?”

  “I do.”

  “For services rendered to your crown and kingdom”—my father pauses to take a breath—“I hereby promote you to full rank of captain in my armada.” He takes another shaky breath. “And I offer you my personal thanks.” I can’t tell if he pauses to let that sink in or if he’s having trouble getting the words out. “Rise.”

  Royce stands and steps forward, offering my father the hat from under his arm. My father tries to stand. To save him the embarrassment of having Tilner wrench him up in front of everyone, I leap out of my seat—careful not to lose my crown—and take the hat.

  Lady Lucar scoffs at the breach in decorum. Though it’s worth it because there’s a flash of something in Royce’s eyes as my fingers touch his hand. But he quickly steadies his face.

  I ceremoniously place the hat on his head, and he steps back.

  “Have you a loyal crew you wish sworn in at this time?” I ask.

  Royce bows and steps aside, gesturing to the men lined up behind him.

  They all take a step forward and kneel as Royce had done. Rhat, Royce’s first mate, is at the head of one line. I barely recognize him in his blue-and-white uniform. The last time I saw him, he was shoeless and wearing an open vest. Not to mention his hair. His head is shaved except for a long black ponytail, but he’s pulled it up into a bun for the occasion.

  I can’t decide if my cousin Hettie will like him more in his uniform or not.

  I spot several other sailors I recognize, like Phipps, among those kneeling. Phipps looks older than I remember.
More bags under his eyes. Ever since his identical twin brother, Thipps, died saving me, I’ve worried he’ll lose some of his infectious joy. I’ll have to find time to check in with him before the ship sets sail.

  “Do you pledge your loyalty, fidelity, and life to the kingdom of Lagonia, its rightful ruler, and those under their protection?”

  “We do.” Their voices resound through the hall like a chorus.

  “Do you also pledge to follow Captain Royce Denes as he fights for the honor and protection of Lagonia?” I ask.

  “We do.”

  “Then rise,” I say, “as sailors of the Royal Armada.”

  Cheers erupt through the hall. The men shake each other’s hands and spread through the crowd to be greeted by family while members of the aristocracy keep to their own corners of the room and servants hurry to uncover all the platters of food on the tables lining the walls. I can already smell the delicious scent of the buttered honey rolls piled next to towers of different types of seafood packed in ice.

  Royce has already been swallowed by the crowd by the time I turn to look where he’d been standing. I try not to let the disappointment show as I shift back to my father.

  “Go,” he says, waving his hand, “enjoy the feast.”

  I take my seat next to him and grasp his hand. “My place is here with you.”

  “Tilner will take care of me. Go congratulate the captain on my behalf.” He offers me the largest smile he can, which is really no more than a slight upturn at the edges.

  As if saying his name summoned him, Tilner appears at my father’s side. He stands there silently, watching the crowd, waiting until he is needed.

  “Go,” my father repeats.

  I bite my lip. This might be the last chance I get to talk to Royce before he sets sail. I give my father’s hand one last squeeze and head down the dais steps.

  Phipps appears before me, a wide smile on his face. It’s the kind of smile that tugs so far up at the ends that I’m not sure his lips could go any wider, and it hints that he’s probably up to something. But I don’t care if he steals all the gold chandeliers; I’m glad to see him smiling again. Although I can’t help but notice the tightness around his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks.