Buried Goddess Saga Box Set: Books 1-3 by Rhett C. Bruno & Jaime Castle

Author:Rhett C. Bruno & Jaime Castle [Bruno, Rhett C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2019-06-03T18:30:00+00:00

XXIII

THE MYSTIC

Shavi didn’t have to give Sora any clothes after she dried off. Her chamber in the prefect's estate was already full of them. The old handmaiden quietly finished cleaning and straightening her hair, told her to rest while she could, and left the room—but not without first asking countless times if Sora needed anything. She was warm and welcoming like a mother should be... not that Sora knew much about mothers. Wetzel was called many things back in Troborough, matronly not numbered with them.

Sora watched her leave, then dug through a wardrobe for something appropriate to wear. As she did, she couldn’t help but wonder who the countless clothes belonged to and what had happened to her.

It wasn’t hard to discern the answer. Winde Port’s prefect was gone, probably a head on the city walls. There wasn’t a soul with pink skin or round eyes from the heart of the Glass Kingdom to be found. No servants, or wives, or children.

Sora ruffled through more exquisite clothing than she’d ever seen in one place until she found the plainest dress available. It was tree bark brown and barely hugged her figure. There was no finery along the seams of tan, threaded trim. It wasn’t servant attire or anything, but she was tired of playing the role of a fancy royal. She strapped the fat coin purse she and Whitney got from selling the silk trader’s goods to her thigh underneath the folds, then, she found a pair of long, satin gloves to pull up all the way over her forearms to hide her scars.

She turned and saw the luxurious bed waiting for her opposite the bath, begging her to get lost in the impossibly soft sheets. Aquira was already curled up in a ball on one of the pillows. Sora didn’t dare join her. Not even for a moment, knowing that if she hit the cushion, she’d be passed out for hours. And she couldn’t do that.

The sun was falling, its protection against Kazimir with it. Whitney was still somewhere out there, and as soon as the light was gone, he’d be in more trouble.

Maybe he fled, Sora thought. Maybe he left me behind just like when he ran from home.

It was a thought that would have usually pained her, but now, all she did was hope he was as bad a man as he sometimes seemed—worse even. She hoped he’d stolen a ship in the chaos and was already sailing the Boiling Waters on another mad adventure.

Then she remembered Kazimir’s terrible grin and what he’d said about the sacred nature of a blood pact. He’d hunt Whitney to the ends of Pantego if it meant getting her. Yet still, she had no idea why. There had to be countless other Panpingese magic-users hiding around the world. Her people were supposed to share the closest affinity with Elsewhere, whether through blood or otherwise.

No more hiding. I need to find him.

“Aquira, let’s go,” she said. The wyvern raised her head and blinked wearily in her direction.

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