The Scourge of Gods

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Inarhi sat beside the ornate canopy bed, squeezing its white bedsheets underneath Luna. Thankfully, the witches hadn't misplaced her companion when she'd been away, but kept Luna from the Second Queen's gaze. While Nura knew about the two humans in her city, it wouldn't have been wise further antagonizing her, what with Violet's fit of rage. Inarhi's presence had been plenty.

She leaned back in the chair, the fake sunlight running over her body and white-streaked hair from a window somewhere in the palace. Damn it all. The Second Queen had dismissed everyone before Lillias could bring up matters about Eligos, insisting on having her guests rest first, probably so she could study the mystery that was Violet. Once again, the witches were taking their sweet time; time Inarhi's people didn't have.

It wasn't even a guarantee that this city held the summoning texts to Eligos. And without the spirit god and his knowledge of resurrection, Inarhi wouldn't have a home to go back to. The witches had no more cards up their sleeves. No more ideas or plans, and not enough magic in the world to destroy the demons.

On top of everything, Eriden had been imprisoned. How was he supposed to heal Luna locked up, or dead, when every witch in Nevaeh wanted to kill him? The likely possibility of the mage's execution weighed on Inarhi like a millstone around her neck. In part because of his innocence, and Luna's life hanging in the balance.

Inarhi stared at her friend. The woman's night-dark skin seemed lighter, her starkly-defined muscles smaller, face sharper. Now, stalwart defender and former warrior in the highest echelons of the Sainthood lay weakened and brain-dead, her spirit close to abandoning her body.

She lowered her head, grabbed Luna's hand. "What're we going to do?"

"Nothing," said a voice.

Inarhi jumped to her feet, turning around to find Sybil leaning against the wall. The witch had a hand behind her back, holding her wooden flute, and another hand fingering a decorative strap around her battle robe. She grinned playfully. Her sparkling, purple irises stared into Inarhi, like a window into a far-flung galaxy.

"You will do nothing that will jeopardize this mission," she repeated, more forcefully this time, yet keeping her smile. She stifled a laugh, moving between a composed expression, to one of amusement. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just that you're such an interesting human, I cannot help myself."

"You don't know anything about me," said Inarhi.

Sybil gave her a flat look. "You're a girl who adores music and reading. You don't like fighting, yet you're not exactly even-tempered for an official diplomat. You try to live up to your father's expectations despite not liking him, all the while hoarding away a vast knowledge of magic that could get you killed upon discovery."

Inarhi's heart skipped a beat. "How...do you know those things?"

"It's all around you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spinning her staff and sauntering over, Sybil grinned again. "Yes, you do. It's floating around that big head of yours." She ran a finger in loops across the air in front of Inarhi, then placed it on her own nose. "You know what I am?"

Inarhi narrowed her eyes. "A witch."

"You're killing me, darling. What am I?"

Strange. Very strange; that's what she was. This woman was the total opposite of Zaltana. They might have looked like twins and possessed the same elemental natures, but they spoke differently, dressed differently. Hell, they even walked differently. Inarhi didn't know what the witch wanted. "You're a dark and sound adept. Rare for energy beings."