“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“We should talk to her. I want to ask her what she knows about Hathor’s plans, and what it means to be fire-touched. Plus, she’s the one who mentioned me being a trojan horse. If I’m going to be triggered, or I secretly have some kind of explosive device buried in my gut, then I want to know about it.”
***
Vaia Siros sighed, unable to stop the smile from lifting the edges of her lips. Now this was the life. Lying on a beach, on a lovely warm Autumnal day, soaking up the sun’s rays. Seagulls coasting overhead. A few locals meandering by, some enjoying a dip in the ocean before going on their way.
When was the last time she’d felt so at peace? Maybe never. Glancing at the pack of cards she held in her left hand. Feeling absolutely no requirement to cut the deck. That in itself was a bloody miracle. She was starting to think the Southern Sanctuary, made up of three rural towns on the coast of Queensland in Australia, might just be heaven on earth.
After an awesome eight hours of sleep she’d woken this morning in the French Boudoir Suite at a B&B, belonging to the gossipy but very sweet, call me - Millie - knocking on her suite door, bringing her breakfast in bed of all things. Along with a big red gift bag, chock full of gorgeous brand new bikinis in all sorts of colours, and everyone in her size.
The note that went along with it just had one hand written word,Welcome. And at the bottom of the card, in inked print – Un Peau de Magi. A little bit of magic, which she was guessing was the local clothing boutique. The card made Vaia’s fingers tingle faintly. A Fate Weaver, awesome. Vaia could probably conquer the world wearing one of the bikini creations. Or spend a blissfully quiet day just lounging on the beach.
As a Handmaiden Of Fate, Vaia couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a day off. Handmaiden of Fate. Blah. She and her two sisters despised that title. Why not just call them Fate’s Bitches,and paint the real picture. Nope, not going there. Not thinking about Fate. Her sisters. Or her life back in the real world. Which was in tatters now, thanks to the machinations of a whole bunch of deities with a bug up their collective assess, intent upon ruling the Earthly Plane.
Vaia and her sisters shouldn’t be involved in the plot. They were neutral. The living embodiment of Switzerland. Fate couldn’t be cajoled, tricked or bought. Fate just was.
The Goddess of Fate, Moira, was Vaia’s Great-Great-Great times another hundred Greats - Grandmother. Every three hundred or so years she allowed her current Handmaidens to retire and promoted three sisters to the position. The Siros line a maternal one, that was blessed? cursed? with an overabundance of female children. Though you never knew who Moira’s choice would be. Just like Fate, you couldn’t hide from it, trick it, beg or plead with it. It just was.
Facts, that’s what Vaia dealt with most of the time. Fact was the last time she’d seen her sisters had been at their pub just outside of Athens. The Fickled Finger of Fate had been their baby from the start. They’d taken a dilapidated ruin and turned it into a global, satellite linked, exclusive gambling oasis that only the very, very rich were ever invited to. It was rustic as heck, but the alcohol was top notch, the food just as good and the gambling never, ever, stopped.
Vaia’s last glimpse of the Fickled Finger had been its decimation at the giant hands of five Minotaurs, who’d burst in, broken up the joint, actually bringing the Goddess-damn ceiling down, scaring away all their customers and their bodyguards. Her sisters had escaped. Only Vaia, who’d somehow stumbled over her own two feet, giving one of those giant hairy bastards the opportunity to scoop her up, had been captured.
Bloody Fate.
No, she wouldn’t waste her curses on facts. On things that could not be changed. She would just take this moment, this peaceful, gorgeous, sunny, quiet moment, where Fate for some reason wasn’t battering at her constantly to just… be.
“Ahem.”
Damn, and she’d had to mentally give Fate the finger, and of course someone instantly popped up to destroy everything. Opening her eyes Vaia stared up at an elegantly attired older woman who looked to be in her early sixties but was probably somewhere in her… early one hundreds, maybe a little older. Her silk wrap dress a lovely pale blue, her jewellery understated but screaming of quality. Straight white hair falling just past her ears before flipping up at the ends.
“May I join you?” Brown eyes stared down at Vaia intently, little bursts of glittering gold lights lurking in their depths.
Great, another one of Fate’s bitches, although very much at the kiddie end of the Fate pool, matchmaker, probably, the newcomer gave off that kind of vibe. Unconsciously Vaia glanced at the pack of cards in her hand, all quiet still. “Please.” Gesturing to the second large towel she’d laid out beside her. Knowing someone would be along eventually to question her.
“Thank you, I’m Alma Richart.” She sank down, tucking her bare feet behind her, somehow sitting elegantly.
Sighing, Vaia sat up, turning and facing her. “I’m—”
“Vaia Siros. Handmaiden of Fate. Middle daughter of Amelia. Granddaughter of Cosmina. Great-Granddaughter of—”
“What did you do, run a DNA test on me whilst I slept?”
“No, I just asked one of our local librarians to run a background check on you.”
“Let me guess, you’re the Sanctuary’s big bad, come to intimidate and question me in regards to my involvement with that vapid idiot Qetesh, and her power hungry skila, Hathor?”
“Me? The big bad? Oh, no. Though I’m flattered you’d think so. I just wanted to meet a fellow Fate dabbler and welcome you to the Sanctuary. Find out how you’re settling in. See if you needed any shopping or restaurant recommendations. Although clearly you’ve already benefitted from Riya’s nimble fingers, that bikini really suits you. You should definitely drop by her boutique, there’s a dress on the mannequin in the window that just screams your name.”
Um. What? Not a lot of things caught Vaia by surprise, unless a deity was interfering, and actively hiding the approach of five giant Minotaurs busting down the door. Come to cause havoc and kidnap themselves a Fate.
“And there’s the most charming little place two doors down from the cinema on the main square for sale that you should really check out. It used to be a gin bar before it closed down. It would make a stunning boutique wine bar, if someone, and her two sisters, had a little vision.”
Vaia wasn’t sure if she was being manipulated, strong-armed, or just flat out tempted by a big sparkly carrot. Problem was, where there was a carrot, there was too often a big stick ready to thump you on the head the moment you stuck your head out the burrow.
“And through a quirk of Fate.” Alma smiled at her own joke. “State rules governing gambling don’t apply within the boundaries of the Sanctuary. Here, the High Council sets the rules. And we’re always looking for ways to encourage new business owners to the area. Well, darling girl.” Alma rose gracefully to her feet. “I’ll leave you to enjoy all this glorious peace and quiet.” She waved, sauntering away, leaving Vaia sitting there, a little gobsmacked for the first time in twelve years.
