“Baba,” the cool, calm voice of Fate called out.
“Here.” Baba was perched back on the swing in the children's park, looking down on Kracken’s Hole. It had become her favourite lookout spot.
“Why, may I ask, do I have glitter in my bra?” Fate’s voice was firm, yet Baba only shrugged.
“Not a clue. Your bra, your business,” she answered and smiled. Things were definitely going well. Well as could be expected.
“Ugh, I know you are responsible for it. Your thing for glitter needs addressing,” Fate stated, but took her seat on the other swing.
“So, how's our Lara Croft wannabe?” Fate asked.
“Cursing the male sex and playing with her squirrel,” she answered.
“Is that a euphemism?”
“No, she is actually playing with a squirrel. Her familiar.”
“Ahh right, I see. I think. So, when is she returning?” Fate had no clue why she was interested but it was better than watching the strings of people's lives.
“She will be coming home sooner than she thinks. She may be determined that no “man” will ever hold her interest, but
what about a kracken…” The glint in Baba Yaga's eyes was slightly alarming, but Fate couldn't help but return the grin.
Oh, this should be fun.
Isabeau Dragonsong Moonchild had officially had it with men. The entire sex could go jump off a cliff and swan dive into a raging lava pit for all she cared. One of the most successful hunters of artifacts the witching world has ever seen, and she had been betrayed over a damn diamond. Not just that, but she had given the twat the goods, aka her, and what had he done?
He trapped her within an ancient tomb after stealing the diamond, also stating that he only slept with her for it. He also mentioned another witch's name being the one he really wanted, and the diamond was for her.
She would have been upset, maybe even cried a little, if it had been anybody else but Crystal Heartsthorn. A witch from another coven but with a reputation that instead of crying made her grin. That girl had a vagina like a cat flap and practically gave out raffle tickets for entry. That boy had more chance of catching the clap than that witch's heart.
To be honest, she was more pissed about the diamond.
She wasn't worried too much about being trapped. This wasn't the first tomb she had been in and it definitely wouldn't be the last. All she had to do was grab her squirrel and find a new way out. She wasn’t averse to blasting, but she didn't want to ruin the… ruins. Destroying anything of antiquity just wasn't in her blood.
“Bas, where are you?” she shouted from her seat on top of the sarcophagus.
“Imma coming, witch,” the lyrical Irish voice answered her. She adored her familiar. He had been a companion when things had gone pear-shaped, but by the goddess did he drive her round the bend. With the joy of stealing and causing havoc, she had been only four when she had named him, and it had stuck. Bas was short for Bastard, and dear goddess did it fit.
“We need a way out, Bas,” she stated and looked around the tomb. Solid stone walls surrounded them, but that was what you got from the Incas.
“No shit. Can I just say—and I mean it with love, Izzy—but I fucking told you so. I knew that dude was a knob, but nooo, you had to go and give him access to your tomb of wonders.”
Isabeau rolled her eyes as Bas started to rant. He did that. Often. And the more ranty he got, the less she knew what the hell he was on about, his Irish accent getting thicker.
At that moment a box dropped from the ceiling, followed by a trail of pink glitter, and nearly took Bas’s head off.
In unison they shouted, “What the fuck?”
Without touching the box, the lid flew open and a scroll unravelled, along with more glitter. The silver writing stood out even in the dim light of the sconces Isabeau had lit when they had become trapped.
Isabeau Dragonsong Moonchild,
Daughter of Blossom, witch of the three.
A new task for you, a mission to be.
A Guardian you are, it's there in your blood.
Follow your heart, don't worry all will be good.
Kracken’s Hole is the home you forgot.
A stranger you are not.
Make haste, dear witch, and you will see.
As I have said, blessed be.
As both Isabeau and Bas read the letter, they looked back
at each other, a frown on their faces.
“Where the hell is Kracken’s Hole?”
Witch Out of Luck-Book 3 Kracken’s Hole.
