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 ComfortsChapter 53: The Bookmaker's Closet
The library remained just as Aisha left it only five days previous, when she was still a child. She was relieved that the violence and chaos in the temple courtyard had not made its way inside where the sum of her ancestor’s knowledge was stored. The codices she indexed for Baraz remained in neat stacks spread across the central table under the rotunda ready for his review. Old Scribe, the cat who protected the contents of the library from mice, lay sunning himself upon a codex left open during the high priest’s last visit. The old cat stood up and stretched before trotting over to Aisha for head scratches.
"Old Scribe, I am glad you are safe," said Aisha, rubbing his face. "But I suppose you are smart enough by now to know where to hide when you need to. You survived the siege and the fall of the city, and you are the only one who maintained their rank and position under the Locusts."
Old Scribe purred and leaned against Aisha's legs.
"Silly cat. I have work to do. And so do you!" Aisha said. She picked up the book Old Scribe used for a napping spot and blew away a cloud of shed cat fur. "Look what you did. The High Priest will not appreciate your hair all over the manuscript he was reading."
Old Scribe turned his back on her and began washing himself.
Aisha turned the open codex over in her hands and then rifled through the pages, making sure to keep her finger marking the page Baraz had left open. Architectural drawings of the temple and palace covered the pages of the manuscript. Notes scribbled under each illustration indicated they were copies of drawings made by the original architects hundreds of years previous when the builders carved the city from the living rock of the mountain. She stopped at a drawing of the plans for the sanctuary, which showed a doorway where the altar stood before the Locusts came.
I went through that door the night I became Aisha.
She remembered her mother's words to her before she and the old hermit disappeared through the doorway and down narrow hallways into the catacombs deep beneath the city.
You must go with Manah. Go. They are coming, and I must stop the killing before our streets run red with the blood of our city. Go. I love you. You are a princess. You are the rightful heir to this throne, the rightful ruler of Adyll. You must survive or all is lost.
Old Scribe jumped onto the table, landing next to the codex where he lay down on the pages again.
"My mother was wrong about me, cat," Aisha whispered, burying her face in his fur. "All has already been lost, and I was not worth saving."
"Prrrbt?" responded the old cat.
"And I talk to library cats.” Aisha gathered herself. “Go on, Old Scribe. We should both be working and not crying over things we cannot change."
She shooed him off the codex, careful to leave it open to the correct page. This page showed the library itself, minus the towering rotunda which was added more recently under the reign of Irinya’s Grandmother. The bookmaker's closet was included in the original plans, but showed a much larger room, enough for several scribes and bookbinders to work simultaneously. Now, it could only hold half that number of workers crowded one next to the other. Aisha examined the drawing further. Perhaps the closet had been bisected to allow for additional storage at a more recent time than the original plans? But in her months inside the library, she had never seen any storage space in that area of the building.
Aisha looked back at the closet.
That night in the sanctuary... I never saw the door Manah took me through. Was there a door? Think, Aisha. Think back to when you were Irinya before this nightmare began. What did the door look like? I only remember my mother's face, and then the dark hallways and the stone sarcophagi lining the walls. And my hair falling around me next to a pool of water deep beneath the temple.
I cannot remember a door. The drawing says it was real. I know I lost myself among the dead with Manah, but how did I leave the sanctuary? Are there other hidden places in the temple?
Aisha looked back at the page one more time before walking into the bookmaker's closet, measuring it with her eyes, and picturing the layout of the rest of the library that surrounded it. There was missing space behind the wall of shelves where the bookmakers and scribes stored their supplies. She grabbed a few sheets of vellum and a thin piece of charcoal from the shelf before returning to the open manuscript. There she laid the vellum on the drawing of the library and traced the lines with the charcoal. She repeated this process on the drawing of the sanctuary before beginning to look through the rest of the drawings. She kept watch on the shadows as she worked to keep track of time. Baraz rarely came to the library, but given she had been in confinement for the last five days she needed to ensure it looked like she had been working.
She traced five drawings before deciding the risk was too great to continue. The sanctuary, the library, the outdoor walls and courtyard of the temple, the section of the catacombs where her ancestors lay, and the brothel. Nasreen would find it interesting if nothing else, and if Baraz stayed away from the library Aisha could make more copies in the coming days. Her mind was already filled with ideas of what could be behind the shelves in the closet - perhaps another scroll of forgotten stories of the Lady? Or a map to Thought's River of Tears?
She carefully rolled up her crude copies to avoid spilling charcoal on the original codex, and then stored them back inside the closet under the watchful eye of the Old Scribe.
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