Page 88 of Pirate Witch
Fucking witches going aboard a ship without the captain’s permission. Do they have no decency?
“I’m sure one of the others is with her,” Nilsa continues, then pauses. “Come back to bed?”
It’s a peace offering—a tempting one at that. Everything in me wants to jump at the chance to get back in that warm, torturous slice of heaven. To hide from the world and the aftermath of what happened last night. But the sensation of having someone unknown on my ship while I’m not there is like an itch I just can’t scratch.
Nilsa must be able to tell, because she huffs out a dramatic sigh and shoves out of the blankets. “Let me get dressed and I’ll go with you.”
She takes her time, emerging from the bathroom with skin flushed pink and damp hair. She’s wearing an outfit that’s conservative for her, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to peel her back out of it. The long, tight-fitting leather trousers and a billowy charcoal top, clinched tight around her breasts with a corset until she looks more pirate than witch. That damn blade and her tiny leather pouch are strapped to her waist, and I brush my hand against both as I surprise her by hooking my arm around her waist and dragging her into me.
“Ever teleported before?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No—”
She blinks and we’re back on my ship. Unlike whatever she did to put us in the cage in Isablis, there’s no nausea and no disorientation. One second we’re in the bedroom in Coveton, the next we’re dropped into the cargo hold. Right on time to see Alletta rub her face across the surface of the fancy boulder Nilsa brought back from Meliad.
“What is she doing?” I hiss, confused.
Nilsa shrugs. “She sacrificed her sanity to wield the power of both Goddesses. I doubtsheknows what she’s doing.”
Of course, the older witch chooses that moment to spin on her heel and face us. “I’m mad, not deaf, dearie. Do you not know the difference?”
“Why are you here?” Nilsa asks, instead of playing along.
Alletta shrugs. “Why are any of us here, really?”
She’s playing with us, and we all know it. Our unwillingness to go along with her games must show on our faces, because she sighs and turns her focus back to the rock.
Is she… licking it?
“Do you have any idea what you’ve stumbled across?” she finally asks.
Nilsa tenses. “A scripture.”
Alletta throws a coy look over her shoulder. “Oh, you and I both know it’s more than that, dearie. This is the Book of Fate. The Forbidden Book. The Blind Man’s Scripture. The First—”
“You can’t know that,” Nilsa objects. “The coven historians need to verify it.”
One second Alletta is caressing the stone, the next she’s right in Nilsa’s face. “I know what it is.” She grabs Nilsa’s arm and tugs her forward until she’s so close to the stone that she could touch it. Alletta points to one of the symbols in the middle. “See that one? That’s what they all want destroyed. That’s the key.”
“The key to what?”
Alletta smiles. “Power, dearie. Power like you’ve never even dreamt of having.” She cocks her head. “Power you’re going to want. Normally, it comes at a price, yes? But this… this could be something greater. A third power to balance the two.”
Nilsa grimaces. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying. I don’t want it.”
The other witch snorts, clutching her stomach as the sound erupts into a full belly laugh. “Oh, you think you have a choice, how young you are! When you go up against Lily—and you will have to face her in this crusade the Dark Mother has sent you on—you won’t stand a chance unless you’re on a level playing field.”
She drops Nilsa’s hand, as her face loses the humour it held seconds ago. Her attention becomes consumed by her own satchel for a second as she starts rummaging inside it.
I tense, wondering if she’s looking for a weapon, but she pulls out a piece of crumpled parchment and some charcoal. She places the paper over the rock and runs the stick of charcoal over the top until she’s created a rubbing of the engraved symbols, then puts both things away in her pouch once more.
“When the time comes—when you know you have no other choice—you’ll beg me to do it,” she insists. “Otherwise you’ll have to hope your mates can recognise your corpse once the Eagle has your skin flayed from your—”
Nilsa’s hand moves so quickly it’s a blur. Somehow Alletta is faster. The older witch manages to dodge the slap, cackling like a hag as she skips towards the stairs. “You know where to find me, dearie.”
Silence falls as she leaves, but I still wait until she’s mounted her broom and left the ship before I confront my mate.
“What was she on about?” I ask. “Did any of that make sense to you? Because I swear that fruitcake gets nuttier every time we see her.”
