Chapter One

Orla finished verifying the reports for the previous end of the month. She authorized payroll and began to get ready to leave. Belinda looked over and asked, “Doing something for the long weekend?”

“No. Yes. I have been invited to a family party. My grandfather’s ninety-fifth.”

“You have family?”

Orla wrinkled her nose. “Of a sort. My dad’s side. I am not really impressive enough for them.”

“Well, some family is better than none.”

“It is cute that you think that.” Orla smiled and grabbed her coat and purse.

“You have never mentioned them before.”

“They haven’t contacted me for fifteen years. Suddenly, I am invited to the most important day of their year.” Orla snorted. “Oh, and they wanted me to wear an ugly sweater. I am bringing one, but no way will I have it on when I open that door.”

Belinda walked with her. “Is there a reason for the divide?”

“My mother died, and they didn’t want me around. Apparently, I have her face, and that irritated my father.” She shrugged. “I haven’t seen them since the funeral.”

“Maybe it makes him sad.”

“He’s a power-hungry jackass and a bully, and my brother is the same.” She tucked her purse between her knees and put her jacket on.

They prepped themselves for the cold weather and walked outside, staring at the holiday decorations. Belinda walked with her and peeled off at the bus stop. “See you next week.”

Orla waved and headed toward her apartment at a brisk pace.

When you were cursed by family, it stuck. She had been cursed to remember her station at all times, and that meant she couldn’t get ahead. Her car was a feeble subcompact, her apartment was nice but smelled like basil, and her job was stuck as senior clerk. The pay was mediocre, but the people were nice, and she had made a few solid friends.

Hanging on the wall was a garment bag, and inside was the dress she had thrifted. It and the shoes had been a lucky find, but she had been shopping with the boss’s wife, and that woman had a lot of luck if she took to shopping.

She felt a trickle of magic in her room, and her stomach sank. She walked to the table where the embossed invitation from her family was sitting. She picked it up and exhaled softly. The dinner was starting in ninety minutes and was forty minutes away. “Fuck.”

She set the invitation down in all its heavy black paper with gold lettering glory. The shower was fast, dressing was faster, and by the time she had her hair done, she was able to apply her makeup and check the time on her phone. The winter cape she had also thrifted went on over the gown, and she grabbed the bag with the sweater and slipped her tiny formal purse into the bag.

Orla grabbed her keys, locked her door, and sighed. She went back in to grab the invitation, took a photo of it on her phone, and then sent it to herself and her friend Sallen.

There was no way that they would be able to tamper with all the copies. Sallen sent a message back. Differences noted.

Orla nodded. She had done all she could. Now, it was time to face the lion’s den.

Her car wheezed and hauled its way up the icy drive in the hills. The other and more elegant cars had enough weight to keep them on the angle, but Orla made sure she had driven onto a small patch of grass to give her tires some grip. She engaged her parking brake and got her bag, leaving the safety of her car and walking toward the imposing door. She lifted the knocker and dropped it.

Nothing for a minute, and the cold was beginning to poke at her from under the wrap.

Finally, the door swung open, and a grim troll opened the door. “Yes?”

She handed over the invitation. “I was requested.”

“Whore?” He raised his brows.

“Daughter, granddaughter, and sister. Orla Lerothian.”

He nodded and offered to take her wrap.

“No, thank you. I do not think I will be here long, and they tend to keep it chilly.” There was no decoration in the house, and she kept trying to put stuff up in her house, but it always disappeared.

She followed the troll past the great room where the party would be tomorrow. She was walked into the dining room, where the remains of the night’s meal were visible, and she knew this was a setup.

Orla stood and reached into the bag slowly. She pulled out the gift she had obtained when her father asked, “Why are you here? The party is tomorrow. You can’t even get that right?”

Her brother smirked. “So dumb she can’t manage a calendar.”

“The date on my invitation changed, and I didn’t want to be accused of being non-filial. So, here I am. I have a present for Grandfather, and then, I will leave.”

Her grandfather was grey-haired with a few lines, but that was it. Warlocks aged well.

“It is a day early, but fine. I will accept it.”

She walked over and set the item next to him, and then, she backed up out of striking distance.

Her grandfather touched the item and turned it in his fingers. “You have me stumped. What is it?”

“The trapped magic of an archmage. It will reset your body to forty years old.”

Her grandfather raised his brows. “Really? That would be handy right now.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I need a liver donor. For obvious reasons, neither your brother nor my son is a candidate.”

The other two lifted their glasses to her. Whiskey and blood shared space in the family circulatory system. Magic-wise, it was a focus tool. The alcohol relaxed control, but it also let them access their magic. All three of them were fairly relaxed right now, which made this situation dangerous.

“Have you gone through the organ programs?”

Her grandfather snorted. “Of course. As my magic is alcohol-based, I am not an acceptable candidate. So, I need you to go and get tested immediately.”

“What?”

Her brother sneered. “We need you to be useful for once. Get the testing done and then hop on that table so your grandfather can live a long and healthy life.”

She was stunned. “So, that is why I was here early? To get this assignment to have myself carved up?”

Her father snorted. “Of course. We haven’t invited you to the last fifteen celebrations. Why do you think you got an invitation this year?”

She sighed. “Yes. I am very glad I didn’t wear the sweater.” She looked at her brother. “Your touch, I guess?”

He shrugged. “You have always been so obliging to provide entertainment since Mother passed.”

Orla tightened her mouth. “I will go to the hospital and be checked for donation. I will do it right now.”

Her father narrowed his eyes at her. “No formal greeting for me?”

“No, sir. You don’t like them.”

He smiled cruelly. “Finally, you have learned. Right. Off you go. If we don’t hear from the hospital by the party, we will come looking for you.”

“I am sure. Hunting me has always been one of your hobbies.” She turned and left with the bag in her hand. She walked out at a slow and steady pace, kept herself calm, and only slipped a few times before she got to her car.

She started her car, kept her foot on the brake, and released the parking brake. She held her breath as she slid down the drive, and when she passed one of the topiaries, she released her brakes and started to steer. Orla stopped at the edge of the road and then got moving before the gates closed on her car. Her family were assholes.

She drove home carefully, approaching the bridge back to the city. She felt the tingle in the car. It began to speed up, and she held on. This was going to be bad. She got ready to swim.

* * * *

Grendel chuckled as he worked his curse over his sibling’s car. His father chuckled. “Just verifying that Father gets that liver. Hypothermia is an excellent way to preserve a body.”

Grendel’s grandfather smiled. “She doesn’t drink at all, does she? Those organs will be in pristine shape. Perhaps her kidneys need a new home while they are in there.”

They all laughed and watched a projection of Orla’s car going off the bridge and into the frozen river, slowly sinking below the surface.

* * * *

Orla waited until she was firmly underwater before she gripped the window breaker and shattered it, wrapping her ugly sweater around her arm to shove the bits of glass aside while she held her breath as the icy water surrounded her.

The river wasn’t horribly deep, but it was wide, so she moved under the ice and kicked toward the darker area that would be the shoreline. The ice was always thinner there. She punched through the crust above her and shot up, gasping and hauling herself out of the water.

She wished it was the first time her brother had tried to drown her.

She scrambled out of the water, shivering madly. Her wrap was gone, and she was in her formal gown and boots. The wool of the ugly sweater was the only warm thing, and it was tight around her left arm. She staggered away from the water and got into the woods as fast as she could. Her phone was in her car, and she couldn’t call for help.

The howling started in the distance, but at least that wasn’t her family. They hated dogs. She made it into the thickest trees and rested for a moment as she tried to remember where the nearest highway was.

The howling got louder, and then, it was quiet. She slowly moved through the woods, realizing it was night, and focused on the moonlight above her. She was losing her senses. Her body was hot, and that was a sign of hypothermia. She staggered forward in what she hoped was a straight line until there was something fluffy in her path. It was growling and in an aggressive stance.

“Hey, puppy. You look very fluffy this evening. If you don’t mind food frozen, I should be dead within the hour.” She chuckled and walked toward it. “Of course, if you just want to rip out my throat, you can go for it. It’s much nicer than what is waiting for me if they find me.”

He huffed and stepped toward her. She waited, swaying. The doggy was bigger than it should be, and she giggled. He sniffed around her head and shoulders to the frosted gown and the white-red skin on her arms. The wool sweater around her forearm made him pause.

“Oh, I found that at a thrift store. It was an ugly sweater triumph, and it got me through the glass unscathed.” She chuckled. “My left arm is also warm, so you might want to start there.”

There was a soft snort, and the canine took her arm carefully in its mouth and led her through the woods. He stopped at one point and licked her left hand before she pulled it into the sweater with a giggle. A giant oval of light with snowflake edges suddenly opened ahead of her, and the canine made a huffing sound and pushed her through the portal.

* * * *

She tripped and fell, landing on numb hands. The woods were warmer than they had been a moment ago, but she was still numb.

Orla stood slowly and looked around. There was a clear path on the ground, and it seemed like she was supposed to follow it.

She staggered forward, her boots squelching, and the scents of late autumn were everywhere. Leaves, moss, mulch, it all had thick, earthy scents overlaid by a crisp frost. A huge structure slowly became visible, and she guessed she was going in the right direction when she saw two men on horses riding toward her. Their faces were grim and confused as they rode toward her and stopped. She shuffled forward.

“Halt. Were you sent here?” The man on the left spoke clearly.

“Yeah. Shoved through a portal by a big dog.”

The man on the right shrugged. “Good enough. Come with us.”

“Why?”

“We are putting you into the arena.” The man on the left nodded.

“Is there food and something warm?”

The left male frowned. “Yes. Basics only.”

“Nice. No communication with the mortal realm?” She looked at them hopefully.

“None. If you want to escape, you have no way out.”

She shrugged and started striding toward the structure with her boots squelching. “If I can be warm again, I am good. As for escape, it isn’t necessary. I have friends who will come for me as soon as they realize I am gone.”

The men were startled as she passed their horses and kept walking toward the building. She heard the horses, and lefty reached for her. She held up her hand and kept walking. “Stop. I am soaked and frozen. I drove into a frozen river. My feet are pruney, and when they come off, they are not getting back on. When I stand still, there is a puddle. Just keep up.”

Orla kept walking on the path, and the horses plodded on either side of her. She was checked into the gate and given a cell, a change of clothing, and some bread and cheese.

Lefty came by and said, “You will be brought for orientation tomorrow. Your skills will be assessed, and then, you will be allowed one day to train. When you win in the arena, you gain finances or other rewards, and if you lose, you get penalties. Weight and competency classes are taken into account.”

She was yawning. “Yes. Thank you.”

He frowned. “Why are you so calm about this?”

“Oh, my family was trying to kill me for my organs, so at least here, I have a fighting chance. Literally.”

He paused and nodded. “Is that item grafted to you?”

He was pointing to her sweater on her left arm. It felt rather soothing, so she dried it out and then wrapped it up again. It felt lucky.

She wiggled her fingers, and he left her alone, closing the door to her cell behind him.

She settled in. Wearing a grey smock and drawstring pants, she held the sweater and tucked it under her head to get some rest. Apparently, there was orientation in the morning.