Page 54 of Pirate Witch

Nos, behind me, snorts. “Rysen will be disappointed to hear that. Now, how much does our mate need to eat?”

I glare at him, knowing it’s futile. “Cut it out. That’s not why we’re here. You three are supposed to be in the palace, safe, and waiting for the war council to start.”

“It’s my fault,” Elsie admits. “But I had a good reason!”

“You always do,” Reva sighs. “She wanted to come down here because she could ‘feel’ the sickness in the humans. Turns out there was a plague stirring.”

“So why are you here?” I ask.

“Well, she was going to get mobbed without someone to keep an eye on her.” Cooper looks up, eyebrows raised, and Reva shakes her head. “Someonesensible,” she amends. “Of course, the moment they realised I was here, they started bringing all their possessed shit. There was a haunted doll that had been possessed by the spirit of a confused old woman that kept insulting her family every time they tried to move it. How was I supposed to refuse that?”

I roll my eyes. “You could’ve just kept yourselves out of sight. When the Eagle hears about this—and you two are definitely something she will hear about—you’ll land Isablis in her crosshairs.”

My lecture is cut off by yelling from outside the doors, and it only takes a second before the fight spills into the room. Cas is desperately trying to contain a pair of angry mortals.

“I need an audience with the Shadow,” an elderly man protests, stumbling through on two walking sticks.

Even from this distance, I can see the mortal isn’t well. His skin is paper thin and sallow. His breathing is wheezy, and he almost falls over the front step.

“No, you need the Mother Solar!” a younger woman, who looks like she’s his daughter, growls as she follows him into the temple.

Behind her, Cas rolls his eyes and shrugs apologetically as he enters the room and slams the door closed.

“These two refused to leave,” he grumbles.

“My father is sick,” the woman protests, pushing her long brown hair out of her face as she stares the three of us down. “He needs help. You can’t turn him away.”

“I’m dying, Myrtle.” Her father almost falls, only to be caught by her at the last moment. “And I want to do it quickly. I’m a prisoner in my own body, and I hate it. I won’t lie about, stuck in this walking corpse, until I’m finally too far gone for even a Solar to preserve. I want to die while I still have my mind!”

“You don’t have your mind, or you wouldn’t be standing here demanding someone kill you!” His daughter is yelling, even though he’s right next to her, but he doesn’t flinch or move away. He just pats her hand soothingly.

Elsie bites her lip, clearly not comfortable with this entire situation, and I don’t blame her.

“Heal me then,” the old man demands. “But it’ll be a waste of time. The moment you do it, I’m going to ask the same damned thing.” He locks eyes with me. “Kill me, Shadow. Let me join my love in the Stars, with your Goddess’s blessing.”

The woman—Myrtle—looks askance at Elsie. “Mother Solar, tell him he’s not right in the head.”

Elsie is visibly shaking. “The Sun reminds us to celebrate life,” she whispers, apologetically. “But even She has to set every evening. Your father is in his right mind, and he’s right. I can heal the tumours in his lungs, but his organs are slowly failing. He will die.”

“Give us a few more years,” Myrtle begs.

But Elsie is shaking her head. “No. He doesn’t wish for my help, and I will not force him. Sometimes… sometimes compassion is better than the cure.”

The old man nods, relief making his eyes tear up. “Thank you, Mother Solar. Goddess bless.” He places a shaking kiss to his daughter’s cheek and then turns back to me expectantly.

I take a deep breath and nod, crossing the distance between us and offering him my hand. “May the Goddess guard your final journey.”

Myrtle wails, but I’m already channelling the Moon’s light. His palm touches mine, and I whisper the quietest prayer.

It doesn’t hurt. One minute, his tired heart is beating. The next, it stops. His soul leaves his body, which drops, despite his daughter trying to force him to stand. The walking sticks fall from his grip, dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Myrtle can’t bear his weight for long. She staggers, then stumbles, landing hard on her knees with him on her lap.

I follow, lowering his lids with a soft smile and say the final blessing. “In the Stars, there is no more pain. Only joy and reunion with those we have loved. May your memory bring tears, then fond smiles, and finally peace to those who follow behind.”

“Why would you do that?” Myrtle demands, eyes red rimmed and dripping with tears.

Reva answers instead of me, coming forward to rest her hand on the daughter’s shoulder. “It was what he wanted, and he is happy now. I’ve seen it. Your father is with his wife, and your brother. I promise you this. His only regret is that he was such a burden on you in his final years.”