A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)

Chapter One

"Your mother had the power of life. You have the power of death. Remember, Ode. To them, you shall always be a woman first, and a threat second. Use this to your advantage."

My cousins, Ari and Yaga, carry me upon their backs while I roast within an enclosed, jewel-encrusted space. It seems now they want to have a bit of fun by bullying me.

"What's worse than a witch?" Yaga snickers. "It's a witch in heat."

Ari sticks his tongue out. "More like a bitch in heat."

I turn away, too exhausted to retaliate beyond stating the obvious, "be thankful that your royal blood makes up for your stupidity. The judge sentenced you to eight years' labor, Yaga, for trying to poison me." I narrow my eyes at the back of his flea-ridden hair, "don't make it nine."

Ari hisses at me. "We should've known witches couldn't be poisoned."

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my skin. "You planned to kill me because I rejected your marriage proposal. Do I not have a say in my own future?"

Ari and Yaga reply as one. "You're a woman."

I fall back into my chair, clamping my mouth shut, wanting to feel their blood slick and pulsing over my hands. That's the answer for everything these days.

Because I'm a woman.

I suddenly fall face-first into the dirt, my eyes snapping open, sweat pouring down my face. "Ode!" Some jostling throws me unceremoniously from my litter. I feel all the heat and grime of the ancient Rahasian streets dig into my sensitive skin.

Already, the sun is hot enough to crack even the mighty desert's tougher body. The aloe juice that I'd had as my only "purifying" breakfast threatens to make a reappearance. My hands dig into the dry-as-dust earth as I stare at my dirtied feet in horror.

My robes, once royal purple, are now covered in street dust.

"You fools!" If I were a man, I'd beat them for their insolence, tipping me out of my own caravan. However, since I'm a woman, I must grin and bear it, or I'll stand out.

I stand out enough as it is.

I clamber my way back into the jeweled seat of the sedan. My cousins, simply by virtue of being men, resent that I am the only daughter of Lord Ngayoh. And, since I am his only child, my blood is too precious to be married away to one of them. Instead, I must represent my father in the Divine Contests.

"Being a fool is better than being a...." Ari snickers to lower his voice for the insult and Yaga grins wickedly. I feel one of their filthy hands pinch my hip while the other jostles me so that I smack my head against the rail. Since they didn't outright attack me, I can only ignore them, still aching from when they last threw me out of my own litter "accidentally". I need their worthless carcasses to carry me through the desert in one piece. I look down and see that them tipping me out of the caravan carved a gruesome smear of blood along my knee. Bright red stains blooms there, but I wipe them away with the dirtied parts of my robe.

I must be the one chosen to fight for my father's name in the magical Three Brothers' War. The holy war fought for the holy city, the jeweled oasis within the desert, the sacred towers and crescents of Rahasia. Only one god may own the city.

Only one Diviner priest may represent each god. But the Divine Contests need to be won in order to qualify for the gods' favors.

And now my cousins have soiled my finest robes before the competition.

"What's wrong, Ode?" Ari taunts me, "is it your monthly time? Is that why you're so crotchety?"

Yaga joins in the taunting, huffing and turning his foot-soldier-bronze skin into a wine color as he hefts me and the litter back up onto his shoulders. "Do you have any open wounds from your fall, Ode? Do you want me to kiss them better? Maybe I can make you my bride yet if I kiss them well enough."

I fan myself with my Divining Weapon of choice, a golden mirror with a handle shaped like the beak of a swan. I point its reflective, unearthly surface at them. "Move faster and shut up, cousins," I reply. Their eyes widen when they see that my mirror's surface is on them. "Obey or I will trap you in the spirit realm."

I mutter a spell and the spirits trapped within my mirror come to life. They're wraiths, slapping their taloned hands against the glass, their flesh like paper, cackling with their brittle bones and yellowed teeth.

"Help us!" They cry, "feed us. We're so hungry. Fresh boys. Living boys."

The male cousins shut up.

I run my hands through my black braids, my skin blending into the earth, the dust from my fall standing out like blisters against my complexion. I wet my purple Diviner robes, embroidered with gold to match my mirror, and then rub the dust off with my saliva. I'm not sure if looks will be important when I prove myself in the Divine Contests, but only one thing is for certain.

Everyone in Rahasia rushes to become a slave to someone. Women to men. Soldiers to the emperor. Worshippers to their gods.

But I am no slave.

***

Hello my Champions!

Hope you enjoyed the mood board. Creepily cool dark fantasy styles. (I'm a lover of Halloween, Halloween all year-round!) I might be a witch. Hmm...

Love

Sophia Whittemore

***NOTE: So, I made a mood board (mood board above with Flickr non-copyrighted photos) Enjoy!***