Goda's Slave (Lesbian, Dystopia, LGBT Fantasy)

Chapter 13: Full of Kanna Rava

Kanna waited for a long time, but Goda did not come. She stared out the hazy window and up at the sky that grew ever brighter over the landscape. Her eyes closed and opened on their own as sleep took her for a few seconds at a time. For awhile, the only thing that seemed real was the inflow and outflow of her breath.

Even through the folds of her robes, she could feel the texture of the cuff key pressing against her from its place deep inside her pocket. It nagged at her with its presence, and reminded her that her passivity had come to an end.

There was no choice. She had to do it.

Three days before, her past self had resolved to escape the moment she had a chance. What good would that promise have been if her present self did not honor it?

Still, without any shred of logic to justify the feeling, she wanted to see the woman who had captured her. Goda's presence was not comforting, but there was something about the empty space that hovered around her that made Kanna feel a strange wakefulness, as if she were being splashed in the face with cold water. Standing by the light of Goda's lantern, she had seen things that she could not explain—and now she could not unsee them. Now she wanted answers.

But Goda did not come.

When Kanna could feel the metal walls of the storage shed radiating the heat of the sun, she decided that she had waited too long, and that she would do something she had never done before: She would seek Goda out.

Getting up onto an unstable pair of legs—her inner body still floating faintly inside the shell of her skin, her head still pulsing and disconnected—she shuffled to the doorway and pushed that last barrier open.

The sand outside blew against her more aggressively than before. It made it hard to see without getting dirt in her eyes, and so she pressed her hand to her face and kept her stare at the ground. One foot after another, she watched her toes dig into the sand, the grit falling between the soles of her feet and her sandals, grinding away at her uncalloused skin.

She moved in the direction of the garden. When she ventured to look up, her arm still hovering over her eyes, she saw that mountain of limbs and hair and dark cloth strewn on the ground right outside the fence. For just a second, her heart jerked with a reaction that she couldn't understand; for just a second, she had thought that Goda was dead.

But the heap that made up that woman's body was still moving. It was rising and falling with the wind-blown sand, with a deep breath that flowed from huge lungs. Kanna was so entranced by that flow, that at first she didn't notice the figure that had stalked over in the haze.

It was a soldier. She was standing tall, bent back, as if her spine were a slingshot that was poised to strike. In her hands was a wooden post that had clearly been ripped from the fence. It was aimed at Goda's head.

The wind grew quiet. Kanna could still feel it blowing against her face, but the noise stopped. Instead, her ears were flooded with a dull whir. Without even thinking, she reached down into the ground in front of her and felt for the biggest rock that could fit in her hand.

The air whistled when she launched it. Her shoulder nearly snapped out of its socket as she sent the rock sailing as hard as she could. Because she had not taken more than a second to aim, she almost missed entirely. The rock barely grazed the soldier's ribs before slamming into the ground and leaving a crater near Goda's face.

But it was enough.

Startled, the soldier stumbled to the ground in confusion, her makeshift bat landing limply beside her. She covered her head, as if expecting an onslaught of missiles—but when she traced the presumed path of the rock and she met Kanna's gaze for the first time, her eyes narrowed.