Page 6 of Sequel to the Easter Bunny

Enormous, towering versions like the ones those men are slowly transforming into. Small clumps of round, spiky balls… strings of rope-like spines.

I keep my distance, and they heard me further into the ruins of whatever this place once was.

Aside from me, there seems to be no life save for those prickly and painful plants.

Except… that’s not true.

As if she’s formed out of a heat mirage, a woman stands in the centre of her stone oasis.

Not a woman… a god.

Juun.

The stones scuff against my soles as I stop, staring.

Everyone knows the god in front of me.

The stories about her—or him, depending on the teller—are not for children.

The old god of summer keeps to her domain unless she absolutely must leave it. And when she does… the tales that linger in her wake are those of terror.

Hair coiled on her head like snakes waiting to strike, the dark tresses seem to eat the light around her in some dark halo.

She turns, just enough to glance over her shoulder.

Her eyes flash red and white all at once, like coals so hot their true danger is invisible.

Wrath and fury incarnate.

“I should kill you where you stand, insolent child.”

I flinch away from that rage, even though I know she can’t follow through. But if the remains of those I saw in the desert are any proof. I might prefer it if she called for Death.

She moves in a flash, so quickly I don’t realise it’s happened until her hand grasps my chin. Her fingers claw at me like parched and brittle branches, sharp with thorns.

Her grip is unyielding as she drags me forward.

Sharp fire licks at my cheeks as she slices my skin.

“What end do you think you deserve?”

Old Gods Play Their Games

I can’t speak with Juun’s hand holding so tightly to my jaw and I suppose she realises that, because she throws me to the hard stone a moment later.

I swallow back a dozen questions, only managing to croak out one. “What did I do?”

“You are a grasping little mortal.” She turns and the long gown she wears scrapes across the ground, dragging as though it’s covered in burrs. “Using my son to gain your Power. And for what? Because your poor decisions put you where you were?”

“I’m not using him. I agreed to Ester’s terms before I—”

“Don’t you dare blame her.”

I snap my mouth closed as she descends on me.

“You came to her. You asked for her help.”

And she chose how I had to earn it. “What I came for, and what Ester offered me….” I shake my head. It feels like the words were forced from my mind. But I don’t need to explain myself. “A deal was made. I have held to my part of it.”

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