A Pirate for the Dead Goddess (Legends of Rahasia Book 2)

Chapter Thirty-Three

            Giggle. Giggle.

            Giggle. Giggle.

            Ode takes Kali into her arms. A little smudged from dirt and sand, and something suspiciously red, but otherwise none the worse for wear. The pirate kept his promise.

            But her laughter, it can only mean one thing.

            Ode pries Kali's hands back, sees the little time goddess snickering uncontrollably. "Fun now." Kali says, eyes gleaming. "Fun to mess with grandma."

            Ode's eyes darken, staring at her child's face, seeing how her eyes gleam. "Where is grandma?"

            Kaliya points to the spires of the palace, rising behind Lioness Gate. Lucky and his crew are all avoiding the Godkiller's vicious gaze. Ratu minds the enchanted manacles behind the enemy warrior's back. The Witch Queen stands frowning, arms crossed, counting her own dead.

            "Back to the palace," Ode hisses, snapping the others to attention, "hurry!"

***

            Farzaneh groans, her head feels like it's weighed down with stones. She struggles to get to her feet, half-rolling off the bed. When she catches her reflection in a water dish, her eyes are glowing bright like emeralds, magic bleeding from her as she moves.

            But the rest of the infirmary, they're trapped there. Still as corpses.

            Some sort of time witch?

            Farzaneh's magic's undeniably strong, strong enough to set fires to whole villages. Strong enough to explode in the face of an all-devouring sea serpent. Strong enough to terrify even Malika, the Witch Queen. But how many more moments can she steal in this weird time gap before all that magic runs out?

            Get moving.    

            Blood starts trickling from her nose as magic trickles from her body, doubly exhausting her from the strain. She makes her slow way through the palace, trying to find where this spell is coming from.

            Footsteps, I hear footsteps.

            Smoother than hers. Doesn't sound like this person's putting in too much effort to fight the spell. A woman, lean with a rope of silver hair and obsidian skin. A terrifying beauty. Behind her, a stern warrior with a shaved head, bandages wrapped around his forehead, bloody-golden spots soaking through the spots where his eyes should be. Muscular, blood and scars cutting into every available spot of tissue, into the core of his violent being. And next to them all, a person who is neither man nor woman. Undeniably beautiful, with long hair flowing in soft waves down their back. Soft eyes, scarlet, and a robe a matching color, sheer and slit down at their chest. Farzaneh has to tear her eyes away from them, to focus back on the woman in the center.

            The woman grins, pointing a long fingernail at Fari. "Ah, I see. I know you, witch. You're the one who prayed to me every night." Her grin widens. "To take your cursed powers away from you. To bring your lover back from the dead."

            "Who..." Fari pauses to wipe blood from her lips, "who are you?"

            "Don't you recognize me?" The woman pouts, the people at her sides chuckling softly. From the end of the hall, Farzaneh can make out the outlines of Lunes in official robes, and a beaten man struggling behind them in heavy ropes. "I'm your goddess. The Matriarch of Truth."