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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

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Chapter 13: The Arms of the Goddess

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Mahleck's warm blood seeped around her fingers. Queen Mila let go of the knife and backed away in horror.  Blood streamed down the Locust King's naked body and pooled on the floor, sending rivulets between the flagstones and into the steaming bath.  He stood in shock, looking at the knife and then to the Queen as the lute continued to play.

“I must say, you still surprise me, lady,” he said, smiling broadly.  He covered the space between them in two steps, pinning her to the bedroom door before she could turn to run.  “The problem with knives is that it is difficult to find the heart. So, the victim dies quickly.  Don’t blame yourself.  On any other man this would have been fatal.  Let me give you a lesson in anatomy, dear one.”  

He grabbed her right hand and curled it around the hilt of the dagger still protruding from his chest.  He kept her hand in his and pulled the blade outward with a sucking sound.  “A little bit more to the right and up slightly to puncture the heart, you see?”  

He took her other hand and held it to his chest, above his heart.  She could feel its slow and steady beat below her palm.  “Do you feel it, my lady?”  She nodded, tears falling from her eyes.  “My heart has been beating for a thousand years. It will beat for a thousand more.  Let me show you.”  He pulled her hand away from his chest and guided the knife point to the place directly over his heart.  “Are you afraid?”

“Yes.”

He slowly moved his body forward, the knife piercing his unblemished skin and then sinking into the flesh.  He threw his head back in ecstasy as the blade penetrated his heart. She could feel his hot blood spurting out and drenching the both of them.  He stepped back, leaving her shuddering against the door.  

He truly is the Devil.  She dropped the knife.  The lute played on.

“Ah, no!" he purred. "My lady... in my pleasure I seem to have soiled your gown. Let me help you.”  He wrapped his hand in her chestnut hair and dragged her bodily back to the edge of the bath.  “You seem to have forgotten your knife.  Let me, please.”  He picked it up from the floor and walked back to the Queen’s sobbing form still next to the bath. She looked up at him, standing over her naked.  His black hair had streaks of grey at the temples now. Lines had appeared around his eyes.

He yanked her to her feet again.  As he cut the blood-soaked gown from her shaking body he said, “I will tell you a secret, Queen of Adyll.  I do believe in your Goddess.  And I believe you are her descendant. For you are as brave as she was when I locked her away deep in the heart of the earth.  No other woman has dared to try and take my life, except for your Lady.  She never succumbed to me, and when I killed her, she escaped me even after death.”  He dropped her naked body into the bath.  She came up sputtering in the blood-stained water.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked as he stepped into the bath.  She moved as quickly as she could away from him, floundering to the far side of the steaming red pool.

“You are the Captor, the Seducer, the Devil.  The one from which our Goddess fled with her child.  You are strigoi-viu.  You are evil.”

He laughed, as one would laugh at a precocious child.  “I would have been her protector, her lover, and her God had she not spurned my love for that of my brother.”  He moved closer to her in the water. No sign of the wound left on his chest. The dagger yet in his hand.  “And still she mocks me!” he cried.  “Still!  You call yourself a goddess, Aisha! Here is your precious child, and you are helpless to save her!  She is mine by right!”

His hand shot out and grasped the Queen’s wrist, pulling her to him in the water as she struggled to get away.  “No!” she cried.  He pinned her to him with her back to his chest.  She could not see the knife.

“Look, child, your mother is coming for you.”  He turned her face to the far wall of the room, which had been obscured by the steam.  

From the vapor slowly emerged the figure of a woman with golden hair dressed in the color of the sky; hands bestowing a blessing on those before her.  The Queen quieted as she beheld the beauty of the sanctuary statue.  How often had she prayed before it?  How many times had she offered incense and flowers before this statue?  

And now I am being offered before it.  But not to the Lady.

He pulled her to the ledge that ran along the sides of the bath and sat her upon his lap; cradling her in one arm as he would a child.  He held up one of her hands and traced a vein with the blade of her dagger.  

“You could have been my descendant, Queen.  My daughter, with my immortal blood running in your veins.”  She didn’t even flinch when he cut down her wrist and the blood began to flow.  She kept her eyes fixed on the steam-shrouded figure who seemed to beckon to her from the far end of the pool.  He licked the blood from her forearm, sucking on the wound.  “Still, it is sweet - the sweetest I have had since your goddess.  I can smell her essence within you, Queen.”  She turned to face him.  His hair was no longer grey, and his eyes no longer hollow.

The Queen turned away and fixed her eyes on the statue of the Goddess while he cut her again, and again, and again.  The water around them swirled in red eddies.

Grant us vengeance, Holy Mother.  Let my daughter rest under your wings.  Forgive me, Lady.  I am too tired to fight.

She could feel herself slipping away.  The water was warm, and the face of the Goddess was so beautiful.  The lute still played, like the sweetest lullaby.  She laid her head back on the demon’s shoulder. He made his final cut, the knife just below her jaw, severing the artery.  She had lost so much blood already that it only seeped in a low ebb from her neck.  He dipped his head and kissed the wound.

She could see the Goddess clearly now.  The vapor had diminished, and it was much brighter than it was before.  The Goddess held out her hand to the Queen and smiled.  There were others with her now, standing behind the beautiful golden-haired Goddess.

Come, child.  Come fly on the winds with us.  It is peaceful here, and you can rest.  You have done well. The Lady’s voice was like the softest mountain wind.  The Queen smiled as she saw her husband step out of the crowd to greet her as she rose from the water and went into the brightness.

Mahleck lifted his head from his feast.  He could feel Her.

“I know you are here, Aisha!  I can feel you!  Have you come to claim your daughter? Have you come to remind me of the pain I feel because of what you made me do?”

The room brightened for a moment. Then faded.

Mahleck dropped the limp form of the Queen into the water.  The corpse’s eyes still seemed to focus on the idol at the end of the bath.

“BITCH!” yelled Mahleck.  “WHORE!  I will take every one of your children as recompense for your treachery.  I will make them pay with every drop of their blood.  Do you hear me, whore?!”

The lute stopped playing.

“Lilua, tell the guards to summon the serving women to come in and clean up this mess.  And then join me in my bath.  I am lonely.”

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