Rise (War Witch Book 1) (22 page)

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Authors: Cain S. Latrani

BOOK: Rise (War Witch Book 1)
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No one should have to die without a chance to make amends. Too many already did. Her time in the High World had shown her that. The world around her was suffering, so many souls crying out in pain, and not enough could ever be done for them all.

She’d seen Gods weep because they couldn’t help the people of the Middle World more. Seen them anguished over the amount of sorrow their children felt. She knew first-hand the cruelty of what Ker Zet had truly done to both mortals and immortals alike by forcing them to be separated from one another.

If she could help one soul find peace, then it made a difference. As a Priestess, she had to see it that way, or she knew she would lose her will in the face of the Demonic Corruption the brood of the Black Bitch had spread. If she thought of those she couldn’t save, she would be overwhelmed by it all.

Not just as a Priestess, but a Blessed as well. Pushing off from the door, she made her way downstairs, pausing outside the door to the rooms she and Chara shared. There was another soul she could help, though, and this one could help her in return.

She’d let herself believe that attachments to those of the Middle World made her weaker for so long, despite Father's attempts to correct this. Chara had shown her otherwise. Brave, kind, gentle, and fierce, Ramora had grown fond of her, and soon found herself falling in love.

Hand on the knob, she smiled. It made her feel stronger, not weaker. With Chara by her side, she could overcome anything. Right after she apologized for running out on her in the middle of the most intimate moment the two had allowed themselves.

Entering the room, she spotted her gear and gave it a quick check, finding everything she would need safe and sound. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set them aside, as well as something she could wear to dinner, before making her way to the open bathroom door.

Leaving her robe on the floor, she walked over to stare down at Chara as she reclined in the massive tub, savoring her bubble bath, a washcloth draped over her face. Ramora allowed herself a moment to admire the other woman, her generous curves, and the quiet strength hidden behind them.

She really was simply beautiful.

She snapped her fingers, trying to draw Chara's attention.

"I'm sorry," Chara drawled, voice lazy and relaxed. "There’s currently no room available in this bathtub. Please try another."

Snickering quietly, Ramora plucked the washcloth from her face, sweeping a hand out to indicate the sheer size of the tub.

"I don't see your point," Chara replied.

Ramora wiggled her fingers to tell the other woman to scoot over.

"Can't. Sorry. You can have the next one."

Giving her a humored scowl, Ramora got in anyway, nudging her over as she sank into the hot water and bubbles with a quiet sigh of relief.

"Pushy broad," Chara muttered.

Ramora shrugged, making the young woman laugh at her in a laconic fashion before dunking herself fully, coming back up a second later with a satisfied smile.

"I don't know about you, but this is just what I needed," she told Ramora.

The warrior nodded as the water began to draw the tension, weariness, and soreness from her body with a silken caress she hadn’t thought to find in the Middle World. Sliding down, she soaked her hair, lying almost fully submerged as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Can you tell me what Imicot wanted?" Chara asked when the Blessed pushed herself up to rest against the tub back.

Ramora signed to her that he’d asked for her to act as his Priestess before his time came. He had things he wanted to seek forgiveness for.

"Oh," Chara said, feeling ashamed of herself. "I guess that’s the kind of thing you talk about in private."

The warrior nodded, and then informed her she would need the young woman’s help with it, though. There were words that had to be said, words she was incapable of speaking that mattered greatly.

"Of course," Chara nodded. "Did you learn anything about the man we're looking for?"

Not yet
, Ramora signed.

Chara gave her an annoyed glare. "Not yet? Really?"

The sorcerer is old, and weak
, the Blessed explained.

"Okay, I get that," Chara admitted. "But, you know, it isn't like we didn't come a really long way, risking our lives just a tiny bit here. I don't think a name, for example, is asking too much."

Priorities
, Ramora reminded.

Chara scowled at her. "Two and a half months on the back of a horse, turning my ass into an ache that never stops, two weeks of which spent trying to turn into ice cubes, while according to the snippy kitty, Frost Giants did everything they could to make us feel unwelcome, so we can arrive here and be asked to please wait a minute."

The Blessed agreed it was disappointing, but the soul of a dying man mattered a little more.

"I'm not disagreeing with that," Chara told her as she kicked at the water idly. "I'm just..."

Ramora watched her for a moment as she struggled to find the words she wanted before offering them, her fingers making the sign for frustration.

"Yeah, that," Chara sighed. "And tired and sore and completely confused by every single thing in this entire place, not to mention being made to feel like an idiot at every turn by that oversized house cat, and a few other things."

Reaching out to stroke her hair, the warrior smiled, indicating herself as well.

"No, not you," Chara sighed. "I get it. Priorities."

Ramora apologized anyway.

"You don't have to," the other woman said. "I do understand. I know what it is we're doing here."

Sensing there was more, Ramora slid closer, tugging the young woman to her, until she eased into the warrior’s lap, letting her strong arms wrap her up. Nestling back, Chara settled against her, tension fading.

"It took me a few minutes to figure out how to work the tub," she grumbled. "Everything here is so strange."

Ramora nodded slowly.

"Not to you, I imagine," the young woman sighed. "This is probably less fantastic than you’re used to."

Ramora admitted that was true, as well.

"I'm just having a hard time getting my bearings," Chara told her. "When we left Rheumer, I thought we were going to see the world. So far, it feels like I've left the butt cheek for the ass crack."

Ramora laughed at that.

"It's just, the world is a lot stranger than I imagined, you know? There's more in it than I thought. It's hard to get a handle on it. I feel lost, and small, and useless, and stupid."

Ramora squeezed her tighter and kissed her head.

"I don't like it," Chara said. "I don't like feeling this way, and I don't like how I sound like a whiny kid, then a total bitch, and I don't know what to do about it."

Nuzzling into her, Ramora kissed her ear, fingers trailing up to caress her body.

"No, that won't help," Chara told her. "Besides, that stupid cat will probably just interrupt us again. Then, I'd have to kill him."

Ramora lifted her hand from the water to remind Chara he was Werefolk.

"Hey, I killed two whole Orcs," the other woman snorted. "I'm not afraid of someone who uses a litter box, okay?"

The warrior smirked at that, and dropped her hand back in the water to stroke the young woman’s stomach, fingers trailing up to tease the curve of her breast.

"That’s cheating," Chara told her. "Not that you should stop. I'm just saying it's cheating."

Ramora nibbled her ear, making her shudder in delight as she teased at a nipple with a deft touch.

"I'm trying to be angry here, you know," Chara swooned. "Least you could do is let me for a bit before you... oh, that's really nice."

The warrior grinned as she flitted her tongue along the young woman’s neck, dragging a moan from her.

"What was I talking about again?" Chara asked lazily as Ramora's hand massaged her breast tenderly.

"Dinner’s ready," Esteban called from the next room. "Please, do not tarry. It will grow cold."

Ramora slumped back as Chara cursed under her breath, then answered, "Be right there."

"Excellent," the Jaguar replied.

"I really hate him," Chara muttered.

Ramora had to wonder how someone with such keen senses as Esteban could have such horrible timing.

Rakiss leaned against the wall, smirking. Keeping these two apart was proving easier than he'd thought.

Dinner turned out to be a delight, at least, for Ramora. Oven-roasted glazed duck with asparagus and mashed sweet potatoes followed a salad that was simply divine. Esteban even promised a choice between strawberry cake and fresh-baked apple pie for desert.

Ramora really wanted some pie.

They made it through the salad easy enough, seated in the vast dining hall with the Jaguar attending them, a perfect host. It was the main course where they ran into trouble. Specifically, Chara and Esteban.

Mollified by Ramora's sharp looks, the young woman did her very best to be cordial and polite to the Werecat. She complimented his salad, as well as his choice in wine. It was the duck that caused everything to go wrong.

Still trying her level best, Ramora knew, to be gracious, she attempted to give the big Cat a compliment on his cooking, comparing it to her mother’s. The Blessed wasn't sure if he misunderstood or was just being an ass, since he seemed completely capable of either.

"Would that be the same mother who so obviously dropped you on your head?" he had asked before pausing to add, "Repeatedly?"

Things had gone downhill from there.

Ramora had not gotten her pie.

She was lucky to get out of the dining hall.

The two had exploded on each other, screaming insults as she tried to eat her meal. When the first shot of mashed sweet potato had flown by her head, she’d been forced to intervene. That hadn’t gone well.

She was a warrior, a priestess, and a Blessed. She was not trained to fight with short-tempered women and Cats. She didn't think anyone was.

In the end, she had ejected Chara from the dining hall, the young woman pausing to stick her tongue out at the Cat as she carted her plate into the hallway and ate it sitting on the floor. Ramora had attempted to apologize to Esteban, but the big Were had simply declared dinner over, and vanished into the kitchen.

She’d really been looking forward to that pie.

She finished eating alone, then retrieved her girlfriend from the hallway, dragging her upstairs to the bedroom with a look that let the young woman know she wasn’t happy. Chara managed to appear slightly ashamed, for the most part.

"He started it," she grumbled as she undressed.

Ramora gave her a glare.

"He did!"

The Blessed mimed throttling her.

"I was trying to be nice," Chara muttered as she slid into the bed, flopping back as Ramora paced the room.

Be the bigger person
, she signed in agitation.

Chara stared at her in confusion. "Be the pear donkey?"

Ramora threw her hands up, too frustrated to even sign correctly.

"I'm sorry," the other woman finally said. "And I'll apologize to him tomorrow, too."

Exhausted, Ramora nodded and began undressing, trying to figure out what in all the Hells was wrong with the two of them. Upstairs, Imicot was trying to make peace with his sins while they acted like children. It was just beyond her.

Sliding into bed beside Chara, Ramora gave her another warning look.

"I swear, I'll make it right, and we'll get along great, from now on," the young woman said.

Nodding, Ramora fell back, her head hitting the pillow. Spluttering, she draped an arm over her face. Her Avatar whistled a tune about how funny the two of them had been, agitating her all over again.

Chara nestled up against her and wrapped an arm around the warrior. "I really am sorry, Ramora. It won't happen again."

Reaching out to pull her close, she nodded and kissed her forehead.

Lying there, Chara wondered just what had gotten into her. Everything had been fine and then it hadn't been. Too tired to think, she buried her face in Ramora's hair and sighed. She wouldn't blame the Blessed for dropping her back in Rheumer and never speaking to her again.

Not that she would, Chara knew. Ramora loved her. It was clear to her now, making her wonder why she'd ever worried over it so much before. At least, she thought the warrior did. She acted like she did.

"Hey, Ramora?" she said softly.

The Blessed turned tired eyes on her.

"Do you..." she started.

"Oh, no, little one," Rakiss said softly, hidden from the two by divine power as he flowed negativity into her aura. "You cannot ever be allowed to know happiness."

"Never mind. Let's get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

Ramora nodded and rested her face in Chara's hair.

Relieved, Chara snuggled against her, genuinely feeling like things would be better. They would always be better, because Ramora was there.

Not happy, Rakiss tweaked her aura, pulling the memory of Ramora leaping away from her as they’d been about to kiss earlier, and then threaded in the idea the Blessed would cut her down if she got in the way.

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