This was what she’d been working towards her entire existence.
Gerrie took the humming stone out of her pocket and absorbed the last of the power from within.
Setting out four wooden bowls in front of her, she prepared the ritual. In the first, she placed a bit of soil. The next, she left empty. In the third, she poured water from her skein, filling the bowl exactly to the brim. And for the last, she concentrated hard as a small ball of fire ignited between her fingertips.
She smiled, sending the flame to hover over the fourth bowl.
Placing her hands at her heart centre, palms facing each other but not touching, she chanted the spell that had been passed to her long ago, too many years to count. The air shifted around her as the veil between earth and sky grew thin.
When her eyes opened, a figure stood before her, veiled in gold and light. Gerrie’s own eyes were shrouded by the same radiance as she spoke to the female before her.
“I need your help,” Gerrie whispered.
“How can I be of service?” the ethereal voice answered.
“I have received my final order.”
She listened to Gerrie’s plight, showing no signs of emotion or alarm, as Gerrie had expected.
“Very well,” the being said. “In two days, you will take this tonic.” She placed a vial with golden liquid in front of Gerrie. “And the second you are ready, and not a moment before, take this elixir,” she warned, placing a second vial, this one filled with red liquid, beside the first.
Gerrie nodded, pocketing the vials with care, heart heavy.
“Thank you,” Gerrie said reverently, nodding her head.
When she looked up, the bowls were gone and so was the goddess. Gerrie slumped in her kneeling position. It was almost finished.
That was the last time she would be able to summon her. Weariness clung to her bones, the ache of her spent magic lingering.
Gerrie steeled her spine, reprimanding herself for getting too emotional, and made her way back to the pub.
The barmaid from last night was bustling around, her movements agitated enough that Gerrie became suspicious. She snuck past her, heading towards her room when she heard the barmaid speak in a low voice.
“You called for me?” the barmaid asked.
“When will they be here?” a male voice whispered.
“Soon, but I fear they will wake and be gone before they arrive,” she whispered back.
“What are you doing down here then? Go distract that male. They can’t leave if his cock is buried inside you.”
“What a hardship this post has been,” she said with a pleasant sigh.
Gerrie drifted into the shadows as the barmaid hurried past her. She rolled her eyes when the wench entered Noren’s room again.
They were going to be captured because of Noren’s lack of sense. At least she could have a bit of fun with this escape. Driving Noren mad was one her new favourite pastimes—he made it too easy.
She slunk into her room and woke Viggo, holding a finger to his lips. He misinterpreted the gesture and playfully bit her, his hand reaching for her. But before she could also be foolishly distracted, she shook her head, eyes silencing him with a warning. Viggo followed her lead as she dressed in more durable garb, his silent questions lingering in the air. There was no time to explain.
They gathered their belongings and slipped out of their rooms.
Gerrie put a hand up, signalling for Viggo to wait for her, which he did. He was such an obedient male, and she was hoping to be able to reward him later. But first, she had to get Noren out.
She strained to hear through the door and waited for the right moment, ignoring Viggo’s impatience. Gerrie heard the sounds of creaking increase from inside the room, moaning and gasps of pleasure leaking out into the silence of the morning.
Without warning, Gerrie busted the door open, stunning the pair on the bed. She took only a second to admire the sight.
The barmaid’s plump breasts were in Noren’s skillful hands as she sat on him facing the door, his cock buried deep in her pussy, balls in her careful grip.
