Dark Goddess

by Amalie Howard

  “I’ve already looked.” His voice was thin, already weary. “She has none. She looks the same with my powers as she must to your eyes. There’s no other hidden form.”

  “Try again, damn it,” Sera swore. Kyle grimaced as she grabbed him by his bruised shoulder. “Look beyond the physical. It has to be there. What about the runes?”

  His stare fastened to hers. “That’s it! You’re freaking brilliant.”

  Sera watched as he calmed himself with a gulp of air and summoned his sight. Concentration deepened the notch in his brow, and a myriad of other emotions flicked across his face before he made a noise that sounded like relief and nearly collapsed against Darika.

  “You were right,” he whispered. “We can weaken her.”

  She stared at him. “How?”

  “Each of the seven runes are associated with a chakra. It’s her prana, her life force—the intersection of energy and physical matter.”

  “So if we destroy these chakras, we can hurt her?”

  He nodded. “It’s our best shot.”

  “Then we attack the chakras,” Darika said decisively.

  Sera cleared her throat, her gaze cutting between them. “Okay, so . . . where are they?”

  Kyle’s and Darika’s stares converged on her, making her feel foolish. “You have to focus. Use your third eye,” Darika said.

  Sera shot her a dry look. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have one of those. Unlike you and Kira.”

  “You do,” Darika said. “Just because it’s not on your face doesn’t mean you can’t use it. Where do you think Kyle’s gifts come from? It’s the power of his invisible eye—his spiritual connection with the universe.” She leaned in, smoothing the spot between Sera’s brows with her thumb. “Close your eyes and focus. Clear your head. Let your mind’s eye do the seeing. Focus on this point, beneath my finger, and push your consciousness outward.”

  Sera followed her directions, clearing her mind of all noise. It was dark at first—red, then dark, then light—but eventually a form started to take shape. The silhouette of Aranyasura appeared. Seven faintly glowing orbs ran the length of her spine, each marked by a rune. The first was above her head, and the last gleamed at the tops of her legs. A thin line connected each of them—a line, she realized with a gasp, leading back to the boy at her side.

  “I see her tether,” she whispered. “To you.”

  Sera trembled in her meditative state as her mind’s eye focused on Kyle. She’d never seen him like this before. He was almost all bristling energy, held together by the boundaries of his immortal body. The light of Illysia and the darkness of Xibalba bent at his command. Awed, she gasped for breath. If she’d ever thought, somewhere deep down, that Kyle was still linked to Ra’al, she stood firmly corrected. He was an Azura Lord through and through.

  Darika took her arm, pulling her out of the trance. “Ready?”

  “Remember what I said,” Kyle warned them both. “If you fall at her hands, she will take you into her.” He turned to Sera. “I don’t know what will happen to you, given your ties to Xibalba, but I’d rather not find out. So try not to be that thing’s dinner.”

  Sera nodded grimly, her weapons flaring. Aranyasura was already bigger than she had been ten minutes before. Only a few Yoddha and Sanrak remained standing out of the dozens of immortal and human warriors that had led the charge, and their offense was feeble. The humans had retreated to safety. Sera paled at the smoldering heap of bodies amassed while they planned their attack.

  Aranyasura’s translucent form had already started to become opaque. Sera focused with her inner eye, and sure enough, the chakras lining her spine had become brighter. At full strength, she would be unstoppable.

  “Serjana Maa,” Aranyasura’s faces thundered mockingly in unison as they approached. “I was hoping you’d be here. Come to join the cremation? We met so briefly before that I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. I am Aranyasura.”

  Sera’s lips flattened. “You will pay for what you have done.”

  Aranyasura laughed. “And you will be the one to issue the punishment?” Her eyes flicked to the goddess at her side. “How sweet, I see you brought friends, including the one who inspired my creation.” Her arms swung with keen precision. “I’m going to enjoy this . . . and the taste of both of you.”

  Sera followed Kyle’s lead as he dove in, dodging Aranyasura’s deadly arms as Mordas cleaved toward one of her lower chakras. He missed by an inch as Aranyasura’s flaming staff connected squarely with his belly. The blow sent him skidding across the ground.

  But Sera noticed that the demonic avatar left it there. Frantically, she wondered if it was because of the tether linking her to Kyle. If he died, did that mean she would as well? Sera’s stomach sank at the thought—but she knew that if things worsened, sacrificing Kyle to defeat Aranyasura would be something she’d have to consider.

  Darika attacked from the right, but was also unsuccessful. In her true goddess form, she had as many arms as Aranyasura did and they were evenly matched. Sera took advantage of the distraction to sneak in, her swords cleaving into the rakshasa’s back. She was so intent on spearing the chakra dead center that she didn’t see the pike swinging toward her. It lodged in her thigh with the force of a battering ram.

  Sera screamed, stumbling backward. But the pain of the blow was nothing compared to the blinding burn of her deifyre at the dark weapon’s touch. One of Aranyasura’s faces settled on her, triumph written all over it. “You taste good, little goddess. A few more strikes and the only bit of you left will be of Xibalba.”

  Sera’s eyes narrowed as her Illysian power healed her and she rushed in again. She was still disoriented from the first blow, and one of those flying discs nearly took off her head as she made a desperate duck to avoid it. She lost her balance, and the sword that resembled Mordas hissed up the side of her arm. The sting was identical to the earlier blow, but this time it was accompanied by a spreading, hollow sensation in her chest. Struggling to draw breath, Sera staggered as the weapon in her left hand flickered, the light of Illysia dimming slightly. Conversely, the sword in her right flared brighter.

  What the hell?

  “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Aranyasura crowed, seeing her confusion. “To find your true place? I can show it to you.” One of her many faces smiled, exposing multiple rows of tiny sharp teeth. “Queen of Xibalba. We have seen your darkest thoughts, sensed your secrets. We know how badly you want to leave all this behind.” Her four faces spun, all displaying the same conciliatory grin. “Be normal. But you are more than normal. Join us and we will give you the life you crave.”

  Sera faltered, recalling when she’d had those feelings—her moments of weakness. She shook her head. “No, you’re wrong.”

  “Are we?” the rakshasi mocked.

  Kyle joined Sera, gasping for breath, and Darika renewed her attack beside them. But even Sera could see that both her friend and the goddess beside him were fading as Aranyasura grew stronger.

  “She’s too powerful,” Kyle said on a pained gasp. His eyes narrowed on Sera’s face before sliding to the gaping wound on her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “It feels like I’m fading,” she choked out. Kyle squinted at her for a moment before his eyes went blank with shock. “What do you see?”

  “Xibalba is draining you,” he whispered, making her heart shudder. “You need to stay here, Sera, and recover if you can. I have to help Darika and the others.”

  “I’ll fight with every bit of light left in me if I have to.”

  “I know you will, but you can’t,” he said. “Once this is over, people here will need you, and I made a promise to your mother and to Dev.”

  Oh, God, Dev.

  “He can’t know—” she began desperately.

  They both shielded their eyes as a blindingly white light cracked the sky like lightning. Aranyasura clapped a pair of her hands in glee at the newcomer’s arrival.

  “W
elcome, Lord Devendra. I was wondering when I’d be seeing you. Come to save the day?” She lurched toward him, but was thwarted by Dev’s Sanrak guardians—a veritable army of them.

  “Dev,” Sera cried as cold dread punched her in the gut. Her beloved flew to her side, carrying a groaning Darika in his arms. He set her down gently and turned to face Sera. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s exactly what she wants. You need to protect Illysia.”

  He stroked her cheek. “How do you expect me to stand by and watch you die? Watch any of you die?”

  “I’m not important,” she said, beating his hands away and fighting the urge to throw herself against him in the same breath. “Illysia is important. The innocent people who will die on this plane are important. Nate is important. You have to go, please. Please. And take Darika with you before things get any worse.”

  “Sera’s right,” Kyle said. “You need to leave.”

  Dev frowned. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “I have an idea. It’s kind of crazy, but crazy may be all we’ve got right now.” He stared at the bleeding goddess lying beside them and drew a long breath before finishing. “Darika, it’s time to summon your sister.”

  “You’re right,” Sera said with a gasp. “That is insane.”

  Kyle nodded. “Kira is the only one who can stop this.”

  THE END OF THE WORLD

  It seemed like a genius idea . . . at least, for the few breathless seconds it took Darika to communicate telepathically and get an answer. Unfortunately, Kira wanted nothing to do with any of them. And more obviously, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Not even with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.

  “What do you mean she won’t do it?” Kyle asked. “We’re on the brink of the KaliYuga.”

  “She says we brought this on ourselves,” Darika replied dully, a faint flush coloring her skin. “Said you had to live with the choice you made.”

  Kyle stared at her, at a complete loss. “You’re saying she’s going to punish the entire Mortal Realm because I didn’t want to date her?”

  “Hell hath no fury,” Dev muttered, earning a glare. “I learned from experience.”

  “My sister tends to take things personally.” Darika cleared her throat and smiled weakly. “Plus, if we’re being honest, you and I both know that she’s the one who you really miss.” Kyle opened his mouth to protest and she raised a hand to silence him. “It’s true, and you know it. Tell me your heart doesn’t scatter when she enters a room. Tell me you haven’t been looking for her whenever you see me. You don’t see me like you see her. We both know that the only reason you chose me was because you were afraid of losing yourself with her.”

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m right, Kyle.” Darika took his hand, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt. I get it. I was the safer bet, but sometimes you have to go with the choice that scares the hell out of you.”

  His eyes widened, but he nodded. “She scares me a lot.”

  “Tell me about it,” Darika said wryly, her lips quirking into a crooked grin. “I have to live with her.”

  Kyle wanted to speak, but something was expanding inside of him, something like awareness. It spread across his torso and his chest, warming him like fire. He leaned in to kiss Darika on the cheek, feeling heavy and light all at the same time. He didn’t want to hurt her, but deep down, he knew she was right. “How did you know?”

  “I was born with the gift of foresight,” she said with a low laugh, clutching her ribs and grimacing slightly. “Also known as women’s intuition.” She paused, watching him. “It’s not going to be simple. Kira doesn’t forgive easily, and she’s angry. She feels rejected.”

  “If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to talk to her, Kyle,” Sera said.

  “How? You heard Darika. She’s pissed.”

  Sera threw her hands into the air, sparing a glance to Aranyasura, who still had her many hands full with Dev’s guardian warriors. “Since when are you afraid of a challenge? Figure it out. Fast.”

  “But she’s not here.”

  “She is,” Darika said quietly, tapping her breast. “In here.”

  Both Sera’s eyes and his swiveled to Darika as the realization sunk in. Mara had said as much in Sal’s diner—that the two goddesses were both parts of the whole. And Kira herself had told him that they were one and the same. He just hadn’t understood what that meant. Until now.

  Darika and Kira were one, as Durga and Kali had been.

  “You’re the same,” he said slowly.

  “We are.” Darika smiled. “Now, it’s up to you to convince her before it’s too late.”

  Time was running out, and as skilled as the Sanrak were, they wouldn’t be able to hold the beast off for long. A third of their number had already fallen and, as before, Aranyasura seemed to have gathered strength from each death.

  Kyle drew a strangled breath and sat with his knees crossed in prayer form in front of Darika. He closed his eyes and pushed his abilities out, seeing past the frame and the consciousness of the goddess. He was looking for the part of her that identified as Kira. He just had to find her in there, and hope that she’d listen to him. He sank deeper into the trance binding him to the goddess.

  Kyle didn’t know what he was looking for until he recognized the intimate brush against his senses. “There you are,” he said.

  A shape took form in the midst of the goddess’s swirling essence, one he recognized. It coalesced into a face and then a body. The reaction in the pit of his stomach at the sight of her was swift and gutting. He’d hurt her because he’d been a coward. How could he have been so stupid? He’d chosen the easy way because he was too afraid to fight for himself. To fight for what he wanted.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was like thunder, reverberating around him like a warning of storms to come.

  Though he was also formless, he found himself outstretching his palms in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry.”

  “You need my help,” she said flatly.

  “Yes, but that’s not the only reason I’m here.” His voice broke at the fury that shimmered across her face. “I made a mistake, Kira. I was stupid and afraid. I didn’t know what I wanted until . . . until . . .”

  “Until you realized that the world was going to end and you were going to die?”

  “Yes. No.” He swallowed hard, searching for the words. He was losing her; he could feel it in the withdrawal of her essence. “I don’t know, Kira. Maybe you’re right. When I was fighting Aranyasura, I had some kind of epiphany that this would be it. And the only thing I could think about was you. Seeing you.”

  Her voice was cold. “Looks like you got your wish.”

  “Please, Kira. I want to make this right.” Tentatively, Kyle pushed forward, his consciousness bracing toward hers. She bristled, but allowed him to approach. When they finally connected, his entire body went slack, as if he had reached the deepest point of meditation. Of nirvana. Everything inside of him settled into complete harmony.

  That was before she surrounded him with fire and brimstone and death.

  “You can’t make it right,” she rumbled, every touch of her furious goddess awareness stinging like the tendrils of a jellyfish. Deadly. Beautiful. He endured it, though each fiery lash made his connection with his physical body stutter. Kyle knew what would happen if he separated from his own cognizance—he would fall into a void of nothingness and be forever lost.

  “I made a mistake,” he managed, struggling to stay aware. “And I’m sorry.”

  She tightened her grip. “So am I.”

  “Kira, please,” he said weakly as he felt his physical body fading with each heartbeat. “Don’t punish Sera and Nate, and all the humans we’re supposed to protect for my mistakes. Help them. Give them a chance. You know what the KaliYuga means.”

  “It’s the end,” she said. “And then I will destroy them, as I should have do
ne from the beginning, instead of listening to you. Wiping the slate clean is what was best for them.”

  “No, you did the right thing. You gave them a chance. And you can do the right thing now. Save them. Fight Aranyasura. There are people worth fighting for. Like your sister. And, even if you never forgive me, I am sorry for hurting you.” He swallowed hard, the words difficult to get out. “If I could take it back, I would. The truth is . . . I was afraid to trust myself. I was afraid that the darkness inside of me would return. But I understand now. I know that’s something only I can control. Not you.”

  Kyle blinked against the spots of darkness clouding his vision. Gaping holes appeared in his mind, stalling him, disorienting him.

  Who was he? Why was he here?

  He swayed, memory coming back in short bursts that faded from his grasp as soon as they appeared. A succession of faces filled his vision.

  Sera. Nate. Dev. Darika. Kira.

  Kira.

  The one he’d hurt. The one who would never forgive him.

  “I was wrong,” he whispered. “About all of it. But mostly about you.”

  Everything felt cloudy, hazy, as if his very essence was disappearing. As if he were vanishing from existence. Who was he?

  “Kyle.” The word was whisper soft, a caress against his mind.

  The shift in energy was so subtle he almost didn’t recognize it, but it went from punishing to something gentler. Dazed, Kyle opened his eyes, awed by the brilliance of the stars and the universe surrounding him. A giant black hole yawned at his feet, beckoning, but something held him back. Something held him. He glanced down to see an arm spread over his torso, keeping him from falling. It was connected to a shimmering body. And she was light as she was dark, her blue-black face glistening, those red lips grazing his cheeks, and her eyes like teeming starlight.

  “It is not your time,” the goddess whispered. “Come, let us finish what we started.”

  It was the last stand.

  They surrounded Aranyasura in a circle—two dozen Ne’feri, seven Sanraks, three Yoddha, one unsmiling god, one Azura Lord, and two goddesses of Illysia. Sera looked like she meant business, despite her unsteady light. Aranyasura had not killed off everything that was born of Illysia in Sera yet. Kyle’s gaze flicked to Kira and he sucked in a sharp breath.