The Dangerous Waters  

At first light, Amara woke to find Hiwana already dressing herself in a pleated leather skirt and breast wrap. Around her neck she wore a shark tooth on a cord—her people's sign of a warrior.

Seeing Amara awake, Hiwana tossed her a similar outfit. "We journey into danger today, sister. You should look the part!"

Amara had to admit the attire made her feel bolder and more daring. She was no courtly scholar out here, but a seeker of secrets! After a morning meal, they loaded supplies into the canoe and waved farewell to the villagers. Then they turned north again along the rugged spine of the island chain.

The gentle breezes sharpened as denoted lands gave way to open ocean swells. Amara tasted salt on her lips as she clung to the bucking canoe. Hiwana deftly rode each heaving crest, aiming them ever onward.

When the girl finally steered them toward a deserted piece of shoreline, Amara was more than ready to feel solid ground again. Her relief faded when she saw their landfall—a ragged cliff towered above a narrow shale beach, lashed by pounding surf.

"There!" Hiwana had to shout over the crash of waves. She pointed to a dark crevice halfway up the precipitous rock face. Amara's heart leapt. It matched the cave mouth she had glimpsed in her vision. The lost grotto could very well lie within.

But the cliff looked nearly sheer and slippery with spray. Amara eyed it dubiously. Only the most skilled climbers could possibly scale it, and she was no mountain goat.

As if reading her thoughts, Hiwana pointed out a series of cracks that could serve as handholds. "I will lead the way, sister. Just follow my path."

Before Amara could object, the agile girl was clambering up the treacherous rock. Sighing, Amara slung their gear over her shoulder and followed, muttering prayers against falling.

The ascent proved even more harrowing than expected. The crashing surf below unsettled Amara's stomach, and the handholds were shallow and crumbling. But she fixed her gaze on Hiwana's ankles and forced herself onward.

After an eternity of scrabbling DIRT, bleeding fingers, and muttered curses, they crawled on hands and knees into the cave mouth, soaked and shivering. But Amara's heart soared. They had found it! Now to see if the goddess's lost grotto lay within.

She conjured a light in her palm and peered ahead. A narrow passage delved into the rock, lined with shell fragments and bits of bone. This place had seen rituals of the ancients, she was certain.

"We must be cautious," she whispered to Hiwana. "No telling what forgotten guardians or traps may lurk here."

"Right." The girl nodded, face serious. Together they crept down the claustrophobic tunnel. Soon it opened into a larger cavern, its walls shone with mineral deposits that gave off a reddish glow.

"Whew…" Amara sucked in an awed breath.

Before them stood an obsidian altar inlaid with swirling erotic figures. And upon it, a human skull carved from black stone—just as in her vision! Crimson light seeped from its hollow eye sockets.

The Hallow Skull! Her quest was fulfilled. Amara took a halting step forward, then froze.

"Is something amiss, sister?" Hiwana's fingers found Amara's, twining them reassuringly.

"The Skull should not be glowing thus. Could it be fake or…" Amara paused. Cold foreboding trickled down her spine. "I fear we may have stumbled into a trap..."

No sooner had she spoken than a harsh voice echoed through the cave:

"At last! I've located you, my elusive beauty."

Amara's stomach clenched. That velvet baritone could only belong to one man. She turned slowly, pushing Hiwana behind her.

"What treasure lies here that you seek?" From the cavern shadows strode Rhys the Relentless, clad in dark leather, his handsome features were twisted by a gloating smile.

"That's far enough, pirate!" Amara held up a warning hand, willing power into it. But to her dismay, not even a spark kindled at her fingertips. The Skull's aura seemed to be dampening her magic somehow.

Rhys's smile only widened. He snapped his fingers, and a dozen armed pirates emerged to surround them with their cutlasses. There was no escape.

"Take the witch's wench," he commanded. "She may yet be useful and cease whatever that skull is over there."

"Aye, captain!"

Rough hands seized the struggling Hiwana first. Rhys kept his rapacious gaze fixed on Amara.

"Now, my elusive witch, let us conclude our unfinished business."

He reached for Amara, but she darted away. Rhys laughed. "Why prolong this dance? You have something I want, and you cannot hope to resist me." His eyes devoured her.

Amara's mind raced desperately. If she surrendered the Skull, this monster would abuse its power, and the islands would never be freed of his tyranny.

She must find some way to break his hold on her. But how without magic or weapons? Unless...

Rhys lunged again, and this time Amara let him grab her wrist. Before he could react, she pulled him into a fierce kiss, twining her body around his.

Caught off guard, the pirate lord froze. Then with a muffled groan he responded passionately, his grip turned to an embrace. His arrogance would be his downfall, Amara reminded herself. She let her hands roam his body as their mouths duelled hungrily. His manhood swelled against her belly.

When Amara ended the kiss, Rhys was breathing hard with eyes glazed with lust. She raked her nails down his chest and dropped again to her knees before him.

"Take me here, my captain," she whispered. "Let me show you the true depths of my gratitude."

With fumbling hands she opened his trousers, while her other hand discreetly picked up a loose stone from the cavern floor. Rhys groaned as she took him into her mouth.

Amara allowed him a moment of slick pleasure before swinging the rock with all her strength. It impacted between Rhys's legs with a sickening crunch.

"Ah! Fuck!" He roared in agony, collapsing and clutching his maimed manhood. Once again, he fell into Amara's trap.

"Captain!" His men came rushing to his aid.

"Men will never learn." Amara spat his blood from her mouth and leapt to her feet. "To the canoe!" she cried to Hiwana, who had broken free in the confusion and managed to snatch the Skull. They sprinted from the cave before the stunned pirates could grab them, scrambling down the cliff and tumbling into the waiting boat.

As Hiwana paddled them away on the churning sea, Amara glanced back. Rhys knelt at the cave mouth, face contorted in pain and thwarted rage. By the gods, she would pay dearly for this humiliation when next they met. But for now, she had denied him the Skull. Amara allowed herself a grim smile of satisfaction before turning to meet the uncertain future. One thing was certain—her battle with the Relentless One was only beginning.