Page 21 of The Divine Lies We Weave

“Why not from the Awakening?”

“A Flame is a Flame,” Jaya said with a curt grin. “A Flame is a divine being. Why would a divine being from the Netherworld not be as divine as the ones above?”

Leela bit her lip but nodded. All her life, she was told the Flames from below were the ‘darkness’ of the world, cast into the darker realms. The ones who darkened the skies with their ash and smoke.

Tales.

Jaya led her to a nearby clay hut, as did the villagers. Children were sung to sleep. Couples kissed their partners goodnight. When Leela walked by the fire in the center of the village, she noted people raising their hands to the skies, their knees digging into the sand as they chanted in a language Leela didn’t understand. She assumed they were prayers to the Flames to ensure their survival.

Jaya swept back the cloth of her hut and entered. There wasn’t much besides a blanket and a cluster of pillows used in lieu of a mattress on the ground. A curved window let in the moonslight, which spread across the soft, woven pillows.

“Rest,” Jaya said. “And sleep well, my Flame.”

Leela looked at the kind stranger for a moment longer, wishing she could do something to repay her kindness. No one had to be this kind, and whether it was because she was now a Vessel for the Viperess or because Jaya was simply kind, Leela chose to believe it was the latter. She needed to sleep so she could leave early tomorrow. She just hoped other people would be as generous and caring as this village—and had a wall.

Leela curled up on the ground. The soft pillows and sheepskin were enough for her to relax, and before she knew it, she settled into a heavy sleep.

7

LEELA

Leela woke to a piercing scream and a heavy dose of smoke in her lungs.

Sleep left her as quickly as sand between her fingers. She knew what those screams meant. She knew what brought about the sound as haunting as a ghost without needing to know what she was about to burst into.

Chaos.

Destruction.

Ruin.

She touched her pocket and sighed in relief at the feel of the hilt. Not that it meant an easier fight or that she knew how to wield a blade, but it was better than nothing.

Leela was done running. Especially when these people saved her life.

She tuned into the screams, trying to pick apart monster from mortal. The furybeasts’ were higher in pitch, the soulkissers’ softer. There wasn’t a hiss for the angstent.

She sank her toes into the ground. At least the ground wasn’t shaking. She didn’t have the energy nor the weapon she needed to confront a lustisha tonight.

Burned flesh stung Leela’s nose, and it drew her back to the night that the bloodthirsty drakion attacked her village.

Breathe. Or never breathe again. Rajesh’s voice, as inconvenient as it was, held her steady.

Snapping out of the memories, she lunged out of the doorway. People ran in every direction. Bodies were cut open and organs spilled out into the red sand.

A drakion crouched at the logs before the hut, lurching into the moonslight and revealing emaciated flesh hanging in ribbons along a skeletal frame. Clumps of pale, human-like hair sprouted in uneven strands along its skin, and its jaw hinged open and closed as if tasting the air. The drakion fixed its eerie, blue gaze on Leela, then split the sky with its bone-white claws.

Leela’s stomach dropped. Her eyes widened, and she was sucked back into her nightmare—into the gripping moments the drakion ran over the broken wall and destroyed her village. She clenched the katar tighter, hoping it didn’t slip from her sweaty grip.

The Viperess uncoiled, hissing and rearing back. I hope you are a fighter, mortal.

Not a very good one.

Great. Perhaps it is best we run?

A high-pitched screech grated on her ears.

Leela froze. She tried to move. She even tried to scream.