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 EaglesChapter 98: Fire, Water, and Wax
“I don’t know why she sent you here to wash clothes with your hands in that condition,” said the head laundress over the sound of running water and women talking. “Sacred prostitutes are known for their soft hands, but yours are more than soft. They are almost raw.”
“The cold burned them,” answered Nasreen. “I am sure they will toughen as I work.”
“They will, but I am not one to be cruel for cruelty’s sake. For today, you will learn to fold clothing. Once your hands are healed, you can go dunking them in scalding water but not until then. There is no need to damage your hands even more. It will only delay your ability to work.” The laundress pointed towards one end of the room where older women moved between long tables sorting freshly laundered clothing. “Join the others over there and they will show you what you need to learn.”
Nasreen made her way across the room and looked for an opening at a folding table. One older woman with a kind face motioned for Nasreen to join her.
“Are you from the brothel?” asked the older woman.
“Yes,” answered Nasreen.
“Serving the Locusts must be harder than I thought if you requested to come down here,” she said. “This is much less entertaining for a young thing like you. Those of us who serve here were put her to be forgotten. But as the teachings tell us, all service is valued in Her eyes.”
“The brothel is not what it once was,” said Nasreen. “Especially since we are no longer allowed to speak when we are serving.”
“We have heard that here,” said the woman. “Here, grab some clothes from the pile and I will show you how to fold them to preserve their shape. All fabrics in the temple come through here, from the high priest’s bedclothes to the garments worn by the boys who clean the stables. Every cloth, every cover. Each fabric is cared for based on its material. Silks are cleaned differently than woolen garments. We have much more linen in the summer than we do wool...”
Nasreen nodded, but her thoughts were already on the storeroom and her Prince who waited there for her, and how she could secret away some of the stableboys’ clothing when she left to see him.
Across the temple complex in the library. Aisha looked through the results of her previous months spent sorting codices and documents, looking for anything which could be helpful in their plans for escape. Baraz left little in the section of the tables devoted to Adyll’s maps since they were of tactical interest to the Swarm. The ones Aisha most recently added to the section were maps that Baraz considered out of date or of no importance. One held what seemed to be a map of rivers crossing the plateau. She remembered the high priest tossing it to one side grumbling about the failure of female mapmakers to properly record topography and how they imagined rivers where there were none. Aisha spread the map open on the table and examined it further, keeping one ear towards the door in case she heard the latch turn.
The map showed various cities and villages within Adyll, from the capital on the eastern edge of the plateau, to the agrarian communities far to the south and villages scattered across the western wilderness where shepherds and webbestre lived. Jagged lines lay scattered across the country. Notated only with numbers and not place names, the lines looked like rivers and their tributaries, growing as wide as a finger in some areas, and thin as a hair in others. Aisha searched the margins for a further explanation, finding only a marred bit of handwriting which read deep waters. She rerolled the map and left it on the table.
The words reminded her of the hot springs fed baths of the temple and palace and Thought’s underground river of tears. She added the map to her mental list of items to bring with her from the library. Any map was better than none.
Deep waters.
The Holy Mother admonished her when she began her duties as bookmaker of the three dangers to the written word.
The greatest is fire; and like to it is its opposite, water. The third is pests, which is why Old Scribe and his forbears have always held a place of honor in the library.
Aisha would need to protect whatever she took with her from all three of these dangers. And Old Scribe would need to stay behind to protect the rest from pests. She bent down to pet the cat. “I have to leave here, old friend. I cannot take you with me. Someone needs to protect the library once I am gone.” She set off to fetch the scrolls from their hiding place, as well as the case in which they were found. She gathered the items and quickly made her way to the bookmakers closet where she hid them behind a pile of scrap leather in one of the compartments on the false wall. Old Scribe followed her as she went.
“I saw sealing wax here, Old Scribe,” whispered Aisha as she rummaged through drawers and compartments. “Have you taken it and hidden it away from the mean priests? I would not blame you.”
Old Scribe let out a scratchy meow.
“Well, then, if you didn’t hide it you should tell me where the wax is!” She pulled a few yellowish sticks of wax from a leather bag in one of the compartments. “I found it. No thanks to you.” She gave the cat an affectionate scratch behind his ears.
“Now to break the first rule of the library,” said Aisha. “Never move an oil lamp.” She reached up to the niche set above the work area and removed the lit oil lamp from its metal lined niche. The room darkened once the lamp let its reflective surroundings. She set the lamp on the workbench, and then removed the hidden container of scrolls and set to work encasing it in a thin layer of sealing wax.
Water to stop the fire from burning. Fire to melt the wax and keep water and pests out, even in the darkness of the caves beneath us.
Find your way!
Resources
WHO WE ARE
LEGAL
Our Allies
