Blood of the Goddess Book I: The Locust King
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Locusts at the Gate Chapter 2: A New Name Chapter 3: The Capital Prepares Chapter 4: The Princess is Dead, Long Live the Princess Chapter 5: Outside the Gates Chapter 6: Inside the Black Tent Chapter 7: Surrender at the Temple Chapter 8: The Cult of the Locust Chapter 9: The Locust's Tenets of Faith Chapter 10: Mourners on the Cliff Chapter 11: The Eye of Betrayal Chapter 12: The Dead King's Bedchamber Chapter 13: The Arms of the Goddess Chapter 14: Zayaan of the Narim Chapter 15: The Eyes of the Priestess Chapter 16: A More Permanent Disguise Chapter 17: Tribute Chapter 18: Sacrifice of the New Moon Chapter 19: The Lost Bird Chapter 20: Manah and the Priestess Chapter 21: Desert Creatures Chapter 22: Become the Swarm Chapter 23 The Price of Betrayal Chapter 24: Life Under the Locust Chapter 25: Wild Rose Chapter 26: The Lady Wren Chapter 27: Thought and Desire Chapter 28: The Lady's Captivity Chapter 29: The Wine Maiden Chapter 30: End of Childhood Chapter 31: The Children of Aisha Chapter 32: The Forest Runner Chapter 33: Three Sisters Chapter 34: The Hunt Chapter 35: Bones in the Forest Chapter 36: Lullaby Chapter 37: The Hunter's Horn Chapter 38: Ways Between Ways Chapter 39: Morning Star Chapter 40: A Prophecy for Baraz Chapter 41: Equinox Fires Chapter 42: The Lord Prince Takri Chapter 43: Evening Star Sets Chapter 44: Chaos in the Courtyard Chapter 45: Dasha Chapter 46: Memories Chapter 47: The Body Slave Chapter 48: Caged Beasts Chapter 49: Message from the Capital Chapter 50: Heresiarch Chapter 51: The Color of Blood Chapter 52: Winter Winds Chapter 53: The Bookmaker's Closet Chapter 54: Wrapped in Dignity and Beauty Chapter 55: Vessel of the Goddess Chapter 56: Cracks in the Walls Chapter 57: Two Brothers Chapter 58: The Court of Women Chapter 59: Favored of the King Chapter 60: The Sweetest Fruit Chapter 61: Daughter of the Temple Chapter 62: A Nation of Bastards Chapter 63: The Lute Player Chapter 64: Aisha's Prayer Chapter 65: Promises Chapter 66: Lives Lost Chapter 67: The Tea Maker Chapter 68: Object of Desire Chapter 69: Empty Shelves Chapter 70: Darkness and Light Chapter 71: The Love of Men Chapter 72: The Cursed Ones Chapter 73: Hiding Places Chapter 74: Old Men's Tales Chapter 75: False Prophecies Chapter 76: The Lord Prince Radu Chapter 77: Love Becomes Life Chapter 78: Mistress and Mother Chapter 79: A Test of Strength Chapter 80: The Strigoi-Viu Cometh Chapter 81: Scraps from the Table Chapter 82: A Fool's Errand Chapter 83: The Little Ghost Chapter 84: Stolen Honeycakes Chapter 85: Breathe Chapter 86: Beneath the Palace Chapter 87: Red Pebbles Chapter 88: Common Men Chapter 89: Love and Duty Chapter 90: Nightmares Chapter 91: Earth and Sun Chapter 92: Love and Creation Chapter 93: Until My Last Breath Chapter 94: Fruit and Flower Chapter 95: Two Days Chapter 96: Small Comforts Chapter 97: Heroes Chapter 98: Fire, Water, and Wax Chapter 99: Beneath the Temple Chapter 100: The Way of Eagles Chapter 101: The Gallu Chapter 102: The Cast Off Chapter 103: The Empty Bed Chapter 104: If It Is Her Will Chapter 105: Hunger Chapter 106: The Strigoi-Viu's Gift Chapter 107: Pennyroyal Chapter 108: Forgiveness Chapter 109: Fragile Chapter 110: Another Lord Prince Chapter 111: Divine Intervention Chapter 112: Chance to Live Chapter 113: Accusations Chapter 114: Negotiations Chapter 115: Dark Memories Chapter 116: Forgotten Chapter 117: Questions and Obedience Chapter 118: Twisted WaysChapter 118: Twisted Ways
Takri rapped on the door to Mahleck's private chambers, once again a lump of trepidation rising in his throat as he waited for a servant to answer the door. He hated these summons to the King's side. Usually Baraz would be in attendance, but the poison left him weakened and recovering in his temple apartments. Tonight he would be alone with the King.
Instead of the expected servant, a small figure veiled in purple and gold silk opened the door and ushered him silently inside. Mahleck reclined on a low couch in a darkened corner of the room. The girl returned to him without as much as acknowledging Takri's presence.
"See how greatly your cousin cares for me?" He lifted the veil from her face, revealing his child bride's pale face. Her shadowed eyes flicked up to meet her cousin's gaze, but only for a moment. "Lilua, you need not veil yourself before your cousin Takri. We are family here. Soon your brother Zayaan will join us as well. Will that not make you happy?"
Lilua forced a smile to her lips before returning to her blank expression, her fingers tapping in uneven rhythms against her robes. Takri could barely make out the words blood and death among the folds of purple silk.
"My God and King." Takri bowed low and then address Lilua. "And my dear cousin. I hope you are well."
"She is most well," said Mahleck. "She has all a woman could desire: silks, jewels, the finest food and wine, and the pleasure of knowing she is my favored bride."
Takri nodded. "We are most blessed to be a part of your household, sire."
"Enough of these pleasantries, Lord Prince!" Mahleck laughed and rose from his place, clapping Takri on the back as he made his way across the room to an open bottle of wine and a waiting goblet. "I have in my possession a new Adyllian delight for you. A wine made from honey collected from the palace garden when the wild mountain roses bloom. It is most fragrant."
Wild mountain rose. Nasreen. Is he taunting me?
Mahleck poured the golden wine into a goblet and thrust it into Takri's hand. "I am sure you have never tasted the like."
Takri took a sip from the glass and swallowed. The wine smelled of honey and flowers and left him feeling warm as it slid down his throat. "It is very good."
Mahleck smiled and returned to his place next to his child bride.
"How fares Baraz?" asked Takri.
"The poison left him weak and his recovery will take some time," said Mahleck. "But I know now who the poisoners are. Despite what the temple women told you, it was not the Heresiarch."
Takri took another sip of the honey wine, feeling the warmth continue to spread through his body. "If not her, then who?"
"The girl who served as her Eyes colluded with the cook who made the stew," said Mahleck. "The girl has already confessed. She wished to be Baraz's body slave, but he chose your whore instead. What is her name again?"
"Nasreen," said Takri. "Her name is Nasreen."
"Ah, yes. Nasreen." Mahleck absentmindedly stroked Lilua's hair as if she were a favored pet. "Women are such jealous creatures, envious of one another and fighting among themselves for the favor of men in power. This is a valuable lesson you must learn, Takri. A man in power must never put his trust in a woman. Not even one as lovely and docile as my sweetest bride."
Lilua continued her unfocused stare, unflinching under the caress of her husband and King, her fingers folding and unfolding just above the silk. Lies.
"How do you know of this plot?" asked Takri.
"The Heresiarch," answered Mahleck. "While women cannot be trusted, some can be used. She lusts for power more than any man lusts for a woman, and this makes her useful to us. The people respect her, and she will help us to bring them to obedience."
Aisha followed the river out of the chamber and through a twisting passageway until it was too dark to see further than her nose. She stopped and lit the oil lamp with the flint from her bag. As the flame jumped to life, the walls of the cave appeared from the shadows as draped folds of fabric hung from the ceiling. The river, which had sounded like a crashing torrent after the silence of the holy lake now revealed its slow moving water with dry shores wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
She rearranged her bag and scroll case on her back and set off to follow the river, stopping when she was tired to eat a little from her rations and sleep, arms wrapped around the scroll case, and lamp lit against the dark. Once, the lamp burned too low as she slept and she awoke in darkness so deep she did not know if her eyes were open or shut. After that, she kept the flint in her hand and the lamp above her head as she slept.
Hours and days passed, but how many Aisha did not know. She only knew to keep following the river's current away from the city. The air smelled less of the hot spring sulfur now, and sometimes it seemed the river's current itself flowed backwards, righting itself a few hours later. Still she trudged onward, drinking from the river itself and refilling the now empty skin with fresh water as she needed. Sometimes she would see eyeless fish swimming in the shallows, the lamp light glinting off their scales like silver coins in the water.
It felt as if she were no longer Aisha or Irinya, only a being who slept, and ate, and drank, and walked through the dark. Sometimes she wept beside the river for her mother, father, and Nasreen. Sometimes she screamed her rage into the darkness, her echoes following her as she walked.
She refilled her lamp with oil twice before the bottle was emptied. She left it behind, hoping it would be enough to reach the surface, and yet she could somehow stay hidden in the darkness alone forever.
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