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 InterventionChapter 109: Fragile
Nasreen slept for hours before the fire with Aisha by her side. When she did wake it was only to take a few more sips of water and a few bites of porridge before falling back into a deep dreamless sleep.
Aisha kept constant vigil next to her friend, leaving only to relieve herself when the Procuress could take her place beside Nasreen. When Aisha could no longer keep her eyes open, she slept, cradling her head in her arms next to her friend in case she should stir in the night.
In the morning, Naseen seemed stronger and more aware of her surroundings. “Aisha, was Takri here? Did he leave? Or was it a dream?”
“He was here,” said Aisha. “The strigoi-viu came and took him back to the palace.”
“What happened to me?” asked Nasreen. “I remember being in the High Priest’s apartments. He gave me wine to drink. It made me feel so sick.” She felt about her stomach and between her legs. “The baby... I remember bleeding...”
“You need to rest and keep your legs elevated,” said Aisha, pushing her friend back against the table. “You lost a lot of blood. When Takri carried you here, you were so pale I thought you were dead.”
Nasreen laid back on the table. “I lost her. I lost our baby.” Hot tears streamed down her face.
“I am so sorry, Nasreen.” Aisha took her hand and squeezed it. “There will be time for more babies when we are safe far away from here.”
Deep wracking sobs shook Nasreen’s frail body. “I never should have drunk that wine.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” said Aisha. “The Procuress thinks someone tried to poison the High Priest, and you were caught in the middle.”
“The High Priest?” asked Nasreen.
“He is alive, but no one knows how,” said Aisha. “I am just happy you are with me again.”
“How long have I lay here?” asked Nasreen. “Longest Night. I do not know if I will be strong enough to leave by then. Will Takri still want me if I don’t have his baby?”
“He loves you more than anything,” said Aisha. “More than his own life. More than the baby you carried. You will be strong enough by Longest Night. You have to be.”
“What if I cannot bear him children now?” asked Nasreen.
“I do not think he will care,” answered Aisha. “You did not see his face when he carried you inside. How he stayed at your side. He threatened to kill a soldier with his bare hands if he did not move out of the way so medicine could be fetched from the brothel apothecary.”
Nasreen smiled through her tears. “You were here with me, too. I heard you praying and it brought me back.”
“It did?” asked Aisha.
“Yes. I heard Takri, and then I heard you. I couldn’t leave you all alone,” said Nasreen. “Takri will survive with or without me. But I worried about you.”
Tears began to fall down Aisha’s face. “You are the only thing I have, Nasreen.”
“You have more than just me,” said Nasreen. “You are stronger than you know. I need you to promise me that no matter what happens to me, or Takri, or anyone else that you will go on. That you will be strong. If Longest Night comes and I am not strong enough to leave, you must go without me.”
“No,” said Aisha. “I will not promise. You will be strong enough. You have to fight.”
“It may not be up to me,” said Nasreen. “I have learned humility over the last months. Our lives are fragile. They can be cut off quickly, by accident or purpose. If you have a chance at life, you should take it.”
“The same goes for you. You need to fight!” said Aisha.
“I am, sweet Aisha,” said Nasreen. “But I am so very tired. I need sleep. I wish I could stay awake with you and you could tell me more stories from the library. But my eyes are so heavy.”
“Sleep, and I will watch over you.” Aisha tucked the blankets around her friend. “I will tell you stories when you wake.”
The cold and damp of the dungeon cell seeped into the Holy Mother’s joints, making them ache even more than they did in the cold of the women’s dormitory. She silently cursed Mahleck and every other man in existence.
“Take my cloak, Mother.” Her Eyes wrapped the older woman in the warm garment, leaving herself shivering in mud-stained red temple robes.
“Thank you, child.” The Holy Mother smiled kindly at the young woman. “I feel some days as if you were my own flesh and blood, even more than my own sons. I have been to the palace many times since they were taken from me, yet they have yet to seek me out. I wish I knew what compelled them to hate me so. But such is the way of men.”
The younger woman glowed with pride at the words of praise from her mentor. “I love you as I do my own mother, so many years gone. And as I love the Goddess. If you are to die, I will be honored to die at your side.”
“Come, sit with me and we shall share your cloak,” said the Holy Mother, lifting her arm. Her Eyes settled in next to her, pulling the cloak over them both. “Did you do as I asked, child? Did you give Nasreen the herbs?”
“Yes, Mother. I put them in the stew just as you asked.”
“Did she see you put the herbs in the pot?” asked the Holy Mother.
“She came out of the priest’s chamber as I was putting the lid back on the pot,” said the Eyes. “But she did not see me put the herbs in the stew.”
They both fell silent at the sound of the dungeon door opening above them followed by muffled swearing. A moment later, the jailer shoved an angry struggling Jul into the cell across from them.
“Crone!” cried the cook. “I should have known you would be here before me. I see you have your little pet with you. I should tell her how you tried to kill a sacred prostitute, but perhaps she knows that already!”
The Eyes stood up, furious at the accusation. “You will not speak to her like that! She is a holy woman, and you are NOTHING next to her!”
“All of you, quiet!” The jailer closed and locked the door to Jul’s cell. “I have permission to do with any of you as I see fit. If I come back, you will all pay the price.”
Jul glared at him as he walked back down the row of empty cells to his station at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as he was out of earshot, she hissed at the pair in the cell across from her. “The real whore here is you, Holy Mother, ready to sell yourself to hurt anyone who does not bow to your authority and kiss your blind backside.”
“Eyes, come sit with me. Ignore her words,” said the Holy Mother. “She is nothing. Nothing more than a servant.”
Jul shook her head. “How you have fallen. It disgusts me.”
The younger woman huddled close with her mentor under the cloak. “I am sorry, Mother. I brought the guards to your meditation. I was afraid. They said you had murdered someone. I knew they were lying.”
“Thank you for your honesty, child,” said the Holy Mother. “But I fear it might be you who are the murderer.”
“A murderer?” asked the younger woman, her eyes wide with fear. “I only did as you asked. Did I fail you?”
“You misunderstand, child. It is I that failed you,” said the Holy Mother. “The herb I gave you can cause death in men in high doses. I fear you did not listen and added more than I told you.”
The blood drained from the younger woman’s face. “You did not tell me...”
“I am sure that I did,” snapped the Holy Mother. She dropped her voice back down to a whisper. “How much did you put in the stew?”
“I used what you gave me,” cried the Eyes, trying to keep her voice low. “Just as you said.”
“Baraz is a glutton, you should have known he would eat more than his fair share,” The Holy Mother patted her charge's hand reassuringly. “No matter, my dear. I will be there with you when we face the strigoi-viu. You will not need to die alone. It is my fault, after all.”
Find your way!
Resources
WHO WE ARE
LEGAL
Get the news
Listen to our Podcast
Our Allies
