“How do you know about our ancestors, about the Anahera?” Erika demanded.
The queen waved a hand. “The source of my knowledge matters not—you cannot deny its truth. The Anahera will come for us with their Tangatan allies, just as they did in ages past. Humanity lies divided, unprepared and ill-equipped to face them. Our people will perish unless they unite beneath my rule.”
“You’re a traitor,” Erika spat.
Amina snorted. “In more ways than you could possibly know,” she replied, “but it matters not. The people believe the Anahera to be our saviours, that they will come at the hour of our greatest need, but you and I know the truth. They will turn on us when the moment comes. I must prepare the kingdoms for what they truly are.”
At that the queen spun, a flash of light bursting from her gauntlet. Erika flinched away, a scream on her lips, but for once the magic was not directed at her.
Instead, it caught Cara in its terrible light.
Shrieking, the Goddess thrashed on the floor of her cage, back arched, wings beating against the bars, veins popping on her neck. Her entire body taut, fingers bent like claws, Cara gasped, helpless within the steel cage, defenceless to the human magic. A moan rasped from the back of her throat—then abruptly, the Goddess stilled.
Swallowing, Erika took a step towards the cage—before the Goddess looked up. Ice slid down her spine as she saw the grey eyes watching her from behind the bars, the familiar madness swirling in their depths, the rage, the need to rend and tear and destroy…
The light from the queen’s gauntlet vanished as the woman lowered her arm. In the cage, the fight instantly went from Cara and she slumped back to the floor, soft sobs whispering from her throat. Erika’s eyes burned as she watched her friend, unable to comprehend the queen’s casual cruelty.
“You see, Archivist? The beast lurks within your noble Goddess, waiting to emerge, to betray humanity as the founders of her people once did.” The queen spoke in a quiet voice, untouched by emotion. Her eyes did not leave Cara, though Erika thought she glimpsed…something in those emerald eyes. “Your treachery denied me for a time, but now I will show my people the truth. In Mildeth, humanity will learn what their Gods truly are.”
“You can’t do this to her,” Erika whispered. “Cara is the best of them, the only one of the Anahera who believed in us, who refused to side with the Tangata,” she was pleading now, desperate to dissuade the queen from her plan. “You’re right, the others, they have allied themselves with the enemy, submitted to their new ruler, but Cara…she fought for us!”
“My dear Archivist, are you truly still so naïve?” the queen questioned. “I thought you would have learned something the world by now, after all you have been through.”
“I’ve learned,” Erika hissed, clenching her fist, gathering what fragile energy she could muster. “Learned to trust in my friends.” She drew in a breath. “To trust in Cara.”
At that, she leapt at the cage, light dancing from her first. Thrusting out her arm, she slammed it against the locking mechanism, and prayed she was strong enough to do what was needed. Red light flashed across her vision, followed by swirling darkness as the last of her strength drained away. Half-blind, she slumped to the floor, ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue. Barely able to move, her stomach convulsed and she found herself retching acidic bile to the floor of the cabin.
A moan rasped from Erika’s throat as she lay there, unable to see, to hear, to know whether she had succeeded. In the mountains, the magic of the gauntlet had broken locks easily. Here though, half-starved, she feared the effort might have killed her.
Finally her vision cleared and Erika found herself looking up at the brightly lit cabin.
Her heart sank as she saw that the queen was unmoved, her arms crossed, a smile playing on her lips as she watched Erika. Except…no, she wasn’t looking at Erika, but something behind her. Stomach still convulsing, Erika struggled to push herself to her knees, to look around…
…and saw that the door to Cara’s cage had swung open.
Erika felt the darkness rising once more, the call of unconsciousness threatening to swallow her up. She fought it, clinging to her mind, to her sanity. If she lost consciousness, who knew whether she would ever wake again.
Inside the cage, Cara had come to her feet and now stood staring at the queen. Wings spread, face set, she looked ready to spring, and yet…something kept her in place. Erika swallowed the acidic taste in her mouth, struggling to speak.
“Cara,” she croaked. “Run, leave me!”
But the Goddess did not flee and as Erika watched, she saw a tremor cross Cara’s face. Erika recognised the fear in her friend’s eyes, the knowledge that to go against the queen was to risk an agony that could threaten her very sanity.
Laughter came from Amina as she uncrossed her arms and took a step towards them. “It seems my dear Archivist has yet to learn her lesson.”
Shaking her head, the queen raised the gauntlet. Cara flinched, but to both their surprise, the queen only gripped the artefact with her spare hand. A hiss followed, then the strange metal fibres released their grip on the queen’s flesh. Erika inhaled sharply as the gauntlet slipped from the woman’s wrist. Tucking it into her belt, she gestured Cara forward.
“Come then, Anahera, let us see your strength.”
Standing in the cage, Cara’s eyes had widened. Her feathers quivered as she watched the queen for some sign of a trap, but…the woman was only human. She could not face an Anahera, not
