Page 75 of Pirate Witch
KIERAN
I should, theoretically, feel guilty for following my mate as she slips out of the room in the late hours of the afternoon. Yet, after several centuries of waiting for her, I’m not in any hurry to repeat the experience of living without her. I’ve already been up for hours, because even the notorious witches’ brew has nothing on fae liquor. So, I’ve spent my time wandering around the outbuildings, listening to what the other witches are saying when they think no one else is around.
Most of them are happy she’s back. Overjoyed to see a Shadow on their side. Yet there are still those murmuring that if Nilsa had been captured and executed in the first place, the Eagle would have no reason to attack the witches. Some Lunars actually have the nerve to blame our mate for their current predicament.
That fact alone has me following protectively as she sneaks out of the room, downing a glass of that hangover cure without pausing on her way to the main temple across the courtyard.
I wasn’t born in a realm which worships the three goddesses, so I’ve not spent much time in their temples; still, the Coveton Temple is one of the grandest I’ve ever seen. The religion of the Sun and Moon is vividly alive in this tiny, backwater city in a way that it hasn’t been for some time in the rest of the world.
Nilsa pushes through the door to the inner courtyard without waiting, and I follow.
Only for my glamour to fall away with my first step over the threshold.
I must make some noise, because my mate turns and rolls her eyes at me. “You can’t use deceptive magic in the Temple,” she explains. “And just why are you following me, anyway?” My shrug doesn’t seem to appease her, because she pins me with an assessing glare. “I want to discuss something in private with Danika,” she says. “It’s… personal.”
“I won’t betray your trust.”But I won’t leave you alone, either.
Perhaps she reads the last unsaid part in my stubborn posture, because she sighs. “I’m not… proud of what you’ll see.”
“You’ve seen my shameful past,” I counter. “And the others’.”
Her teeth worry the soft flesh of her lower lip, and still she hesitates.
“Fine.” She turns on her heel, heading for what looks like a cupboard. The door is small and plain, but Nilsa pushes it open with a slight oomph that tells me there’s more to it than meets the eye.
Inside is a cavernous white room, lit by the warm glow of a massive crystal overhead. It almost looks like a library of glass tiles, each one suspended in mid-air rather than on shelves.
That means we can both see Danika as she strides along the aisles towards us.
“You didn’t say you were bringing someone else,” she whispers. “The archives aren’t really a place for—”
Nilsa shakes her head. “I didn’t intend to, but he’s protective of me. Besides, it’s not like he can read the records.”
Danika nods, turning to regard a section of tiny glass tiles closest to the door. There are a lot in this area, easily well over a hundred. “Are you sure about this?” she asks.
“They were never targets chosen by the Goddess,” Nilsa’s hands turn to fists by her sides. “They shouldn’t be recorded. Not… not here, at least. Their names should be written in the histories, when they write about Glenna and how she used me to further the Eagle’s aims. Maybe the Shadows of the future will learn something from it.”
The high priestess doesn’t argue. “Come on then. We’ll work faster together.” She flicks her eyes to me. “Please don’t touch anything. This place is sacred to the Goddess.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer before turning back to the glass tiles.
One by one, the two witches take down every tile in the section beside the door, gathering them in a small bucket I didn’t notice before. The tiles seem oddly fused to the air, and pulling them free leaves both women cursing and panting. Yet, my offers of help are repeatedly denied.
It doesn’t take a genius to realise this must be where the Shadows record every life they take in service to the Goddess. By extension, those tiles must be records of the people Nilsa killed. I’d known her old high priestess used her, but I’d had no idea of the scope of that betrayal until now.
Nilsa must have been killing a person a week for years, or more sporadically for longer. Just how youngwasshe when the Eagle started to use her? What kind of person sends a child to take the lives of their enemies?
A coward.
Some of my anger must show on my face, because Danika shoots me a warning look. She doesn’t want me to say anything, and I agree. Now isn’t the time. Later, when we’re alone, I’ll comfort my mate and forbid her from carrying this secret shame. It’s not hers to bear. It’s Glenna’s.
Once all the tiles are in the bucket, the two of them stand back to admire their handiwork. A blank wall stares back at us.
Nilsa can’t seem to stop her eyes flicking to the bucket every few seconds, which Danika notices.
“The next record this room sees will tell a very different story.” Danika lays a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“But will collecting it right all of this wrong?” Nilsa asks, looking at the bucket with downcast eyes. “We can destroy this, but I’ll always be the gullible idiot who fell for their trickery.”
Danika pulls her through the doorway and away from the room of records. The instant they cross the threshold, a hissing sound emanates from the bucket she carries. When I peek inside, the contents have dissolved into sand. As if removing them from the room has destroyed them completely.
