Goddess of Gotham Read Online Free

her belly, Badmash glanced up and let out a squawk. Kumari looked down and smiled. She had almost forgotten his presence.
    ‘Soon, now,’ she soothed. ‘You hang on in there.’
    Badmash was growing restless, his belly growling for food. Any normal bird would have gone foraging for a few worms. But Badmash was no normal bird. In fact, he hardly considered himself a bird
at all. It was why he refused to fly, or so Kumari theorised. In any case, it gave him a human-sized appetite along with a lot of attitude.
    Very soon, though, the sun would rise, a sudden slash through the grey cloud. The cold mists would be ripped by light, night turning swiftly to day. It was alchemy itself and Kumari loved it,
the bleak mountains bathed in sudden gold, the frosty sky on fire. Each jagged peak would salute the sun as the valley awakened. Demons would scuttle back inside their caves. Eagles would swoop in
delight.
    With the dawn, she would perform her ceremony, then slip back to the palace. They could be there by breakfast time, with her Ayah none the wiser. The Ayah brought breakfast each morning, laid
out on a silver tray. Yak yogurt and honey for Kumari, a whole mouse for Badmash. At first the palace cook had protested so now the Ayah simply slipped one on the tray in transit. It was pretty
impressive, come to think of it, having an Ayah who could handle a dead mouse.
    A sound cracked through the air, the snap of a twig breaking. Whirling round she saw nothing save a ragged shrub swaying in the wind. Little grew above the tree line; the climate was too harsh.
The wind was bitter, unrelenting, unlike the balmy valley below. Kumari dropped her head to her knees and pulled her robes tighter. Alone on the hillside, it felt as if the dawn would never
come.
    Thoughts began to taunt her. Just who was she kidding? Imagining she could summon up her Mamma. She was nothing but a joke. She had not passed a single one of her Powers, for heaven’s
sake. And at this rate she never would. Call herself a trainee goddess? Trainee dingbat more like.
    And then she felt it, a flash of warmth on her back. She whipped her head up to see the mountain. Above it, the sky blazed, aflame.
    Hastily, she pulled out her book.
    ‘Place incense on charcoal,’ she muttered, reading out the instructions. She had done this a hundred times before but this time she had to get it right.
    The firestick stubbornly refused to light, no matter how hard she flicked it.
    ‘Stupid thing,’ cursed Kumari. The sky was getting lighter. Then, with a whoosh the firestick ignited. With trembling hands, she applied it to the incense. A wisp of fragrant smoke
curled into the sky, scenting the air all around. Rising to her feet, book in hand, Kumari read over the next bit. From his perch on her shoulder, Badmash cooed. He did so love a good ritual.
    ‘OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SOHA
    OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SOHA
    OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SOHA . . .’
    Kumari chanted, feeling a little silly. That was part of the problem. The words just felt all wrong. This is your one shot, she thought. Come on girl, give it all you’ve got. Breathing in until her ribs felt like they might crack, she threw back her head and howled:
    OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SOHA
    OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SOHA . . .’
    Swaying backwards and forwards, Kumari did her best impression of the Ancient Abbot. He might be an old guy but he could chant with the best, voice rising higher and higher, making the whole
temple echo. One day she fully expected him to take off and hit the temple roof. Now and then it gave her the giggles, which she had to stifle in her sleeve. Today, however, was no laughing matter.
It felt as if her whole life rested on this moment. To see her mother one more time, she would happily die for that.
    On and on Kumari chanted, working through all the verses. For once they came easily, without her having to glance at the book.
    ‘HOWL WIND, ROAR THUNDER . . . ’
    She blew into her cowrie shell.
    ‘RIP