leaving Jamelia with a pounding headache and more questions than she had answers.
Jamelia had the same pounding headache now, but as her consciousness began to fade, she realized that it was for an entirely different reason: her lungs were full of fluid, and her brain was no longer getting enough oxygen.
She was dying.
Perhaps she would be reunited with her father.
O mighty Kali, please let it be so.
The thought pleased her, for it was not an unpleasant prospect with which to be faced at the end of one’s life. Jamelia’s heart, which until now had been pounding in her chest to the beat of some deranged drummer, began to slow and weaken.
That’s it, she soothed herself, just drift away. Just let go…
The glow took her by surprise at first, but Jamelia quickly reasoned that it must be the doorway opening between worlds: it would be her means of passing between this life and the next. Her body was surrounded by it, suffused with it, a pale golden aura that lit up the water as though it were somehow on fire.
A face began to form in the murky darkness in front of her eyes.
“Father,” she gasped, releasing a final few precious air bubbles from her lungs.
It was a face that she knew well, yet it was not the one she had been hoping for…not that of her father. This was a feminine face, breathtakingly beautiful and possessed of a cruel, somewhat mocking affect.
Kali, Goddess of the Dead.
“Not yet, my little tigress.” Kali smiled, though it contained little in the way of warmth or compassion. “Your work here is not yet done, I am afraid.”
The face wavered with the current, yet floated directly in front of Jamelia’s eyes, which were heavy-lidded and tired.
“Cannot…go on…” the tigress sighed, swishing her long tail lazily. “Please…it is…so hard…”
“Oh, but you can,” Kali disagreed. “But first, it is necessary for you to die.”
Jamelia smiled, relieved to have the permission of her goddess to lay down this heavy burden of life once and for all. Closing her eyes for what she knew must surely be the final time, the tigress let out one last shuddering breath, and then went completely still, all life leaving her body. All that remained was the cold water of the Kailna washing over her corpse, causing her limp limbs to waft back and forth in the current.
Kali’s face slowly faded away, leaving behind nothing other than the self-satisfied laughter of a plan moving perfectly toward its desired outcome.
What was the expression so favored by the English?
No rest for the wicked.
Jamelia was utterly shocked to find herself not only alive and conscious, but also back in her powerful feline body once more.
The sun was riding high in the noonday sky above the plain of Assaye, illuminating the cool, clear waters of the River Kailna below. She opened her eyes, then squinted at the harsh glare refracting from the surface into countless rays and shafts that highlighted most of the riverbed in the most minute detail. Here, a rock; there a strand of leafy green weed. The sunlight dappled across her striped fur, and Jamelia could pick out the wounds inflicted during her melee with the vampire General.
They were severe enough to be fatal, Jamelia knew. She ought to be dead; in fact, she had been dead. And then her Goddess had intervened.
Like all were-tigers, Jamelia possessed the advantage of hyper-acute senses. Although her sense of smell did not function underwater, her keen sense of hearing did. Straining to hear for all she was worth, it took only seconds to confirm what she had first begun to suspect with dawning horror when she had first opened her eyes: her heart was no longer beating.
I am dead, then.
So be it.
“If you are to lead my army of the dead, little tigress, then you must first join them.” Kali’s voice resonated directly inside her mind, answering her last unspoken thought. “I have bestowed upon you such powers as you could only ever have dreamed of before
Jamelia had the same pounding headache now, but as her consciousness began to fade, she realized that it was for an entirely different reason: her lungs were full of fluid, and her brain was no longer getting enough oxygen.
She was dying.
Perhaps she would be reunited with her father.
O mighty Kali, please let it be so.
The thought pleased her, for it was not an unpleasant prospect with which to be faced at the end of one’s life. Jamelia’s heart, which until now had been pounding in her chest to the beat of some deranged drummer, began to slow and weaken.
That’s it, she soothed herself, just drift away. Just let go…
The glow took her by surprise at first, but Jamelia quickly reasoned that it must be the doorway opening between worlds: it would be her means of passing between this life and the next. Her body was surrounded by it, suffused with it, a pale golden aura that lit up the water as though it were somehow on fire.
A face began to form in the murky darkness in front of her eyes.
“Father,” she gasped, releasing a final few precious air bubbles from her lungs.
It was a face that she knew well, yet it was not the one she had been hoping for…not that of her father. This was a feminine face, breathtakingly beautiful and possessed of a cruel, somewhat mocking affect.
Kali, Goddess of the Dead.
“Not yet, my little tigress.” Kali smiled, though it contained little in the way of warmth or compassion. “Your work here is not yet done, I am afraid.”
The face wavered with the current, yet floated directly in front of Jamelia’s eyes, which were heavy-lidded and tired.
“Cannot…go on…” the tigress sighed, swishing her long tail lazily. “Please…it is…so hard…”
“Oh, but you can,” Kali disagreed. “But first, it is necessary for you to die.”
Jamelia smiled, relieved to have the permission of her goddess to lay down this heavy burden of life once and for all. Closing her eyes for what she knew must surely be the final time, the tigress let out one last shuddering breath, and then went completely still, all life leaving her body. All that remained was the cold water of the Kailna washing over her corpse, causing her limp limbs to waft back and forth in the current.
Kali’s face slowly faded away, leaving behind nothing other than the self-satisfied laughter of a plan moving perfectly toward its desired outcome.
What was the expression so favored by the English?
No rest for the wicked.
Jamelia was utterly shocked to find herself not only alive and conscious, but also back in her powerful feline body once more.
The sun was riding high in the noonday sky above the plain of Assaye, illuminating the cool, clear waters of the River Kailna below. She opened her eyes, then squinted at the harsh glare refracting from the surface into countless rays and shafts that highlighted most of the riverbed in the most minute detail. Here, a rock; there a strand of leafy green weed. The sunlight dappled across her striped fur, and Jamelia could pick out the wounds inflicted during her melee with the vampire General.
They were severe enough to be fatal, Jamelia knew. She ought to be dead; in fact, she had been dead. And then her Goddess had intervened.
Like all were-tigers, Jamelia possessed the advantage of hyper-acute senses. Although her sense of smell did not function underwater, her keen sense of hearing did. Straining to hear for all she was worth, it took only seconds to confirm what she had first begun to suspect with dawning horror when she had first opened her eyes: her heart was no longer beating.
I am dead, then.
So be it.
“If you are to lead my army of the dead, little tigress, then you must first join them.” Kali’s voice resonated directly inside her mind, answering her last unspoken thought. “I have bestowed upon you such powers as you could only ever have dreamed of before
Similar Books
