Call of the Goddess: A Bona Dea Novel (Stormflies Book 1) (16 page)

Still in a trance, Eryn moved her hands to Axandra's temples. “Please relax, Madam. I will go only where you allow me to go. Nowhere else.”

Not even realizing that she resisted, Axandra made an effort to open the parts of her mind where Eryn might need to go. The green circle that represented Eryn appeared in the forefront of her vision, tiny at first, but the shape grew more quickly than the last time.

Even understanding that a Healer would never intrude in a person's mind without permission and would never divulge what was found there, Axandra continued to resist. She did not trust herself at this moment to know how to keep compartments of her mind closed. Everything of recent memory smashed and jumbled together. At the front of her mind loomed the packhound and the Prophet creeping through the garden.

Eryn touched her mind only briefly, then was gone.

“She's in physical shock, but she will recover. Her left arm has a hairline fracture in the ulna and her broken ribs bruised the right lung but did not cause a puncture,” the Healer announced for someone on the edge of the room. The Healer expertly wrapped the arm with the splint as she spoke.

With her eyes open and her brain refocusing, Axandra found herself in a small windowless room, most likely in the basement of the Palace. Cupboards lined the far wall along with shelves filled with a variety of medicinal herbs and equipment. An herbal aroma permeated the furnishings. The Healer kept supplies in this room and saw patients if needed.

“She will need to be restricted to rest for three days to let her body heal naturally. Miri, I don't want anyone to bother her during that time.” Eryn declared with an authoritative demeanor, a facet Axandra had not formerly witnessed.

“Yes, Healer,” the aide responded dutifully.

Eryn moved swiftly away. “Commander, I would like to examine the animal before it is destroyed,” she requested, her voice fading as she and, presumably, Ty Narone, left the room.

Miri took over tending to the Protectress, arranging for transport upstairs to the Residence. Axandra sat up with help. With her body almost completely numb from the medicine, she found it incredibly difficult to stand and walk without support, even though she would have preferred to maneuver under her own power. She said nothing, still unable to find her voice.

Once upstairs in the suite, Miri helped her to dress in a nightgown and slip beneath the covers of her bed. The aide asked if there was anything she needed before she went to sleep, to which Axandra shook her head weakly.

“Just think to me, and I will come immediately,” Miri instructed, her voice quiet and gentle. The young woman nervously left the room, but Axandra knew Miri sopped in the sitting room where she would probably wait out the night and fall asleep on one of the sofas.

Facing the wide, glass balcony doors, Axandra lay numbly, unable to feel pain, and equally unable to feel sensation along the right half of her torso. The outer doors stayed closed tonight, as they remained since the heat rose and the air cooler activated to keep the interior of the Palace comfortable. Raw to the drama of a mere hour ago, she failed to find a thread to grope and tether herself to the earth. Her brain shutting down from exhaustion, she let her eyes begin to close.

Inside her eyelids, Axandra witnessed the face of a woman, a face quite similar to hers but much older. She realized immediately that this was her mother's face as though looking at herself in a mirror. Elora's words filtered into Axandra's ears as though through a mist.

“My dear daughter, I miss you so much,” Elora said. The voice sounded so real, Axandra opened her eyes again for a moment to make sure she was alone. When she closed them again, the woman's image lingered. “You may never realize how deeply I loved you. I wish that I could see you one last time.” Those violet eyes expressed deep sadness. In the reflection, Axandra could see this very room. Elora held a picture frame in her hands, to which those sad eyes looked and her long fingers traced over the glass. “I can sense that you are alive, but I won't look for you. I hope that you are living a good life.”

The memory continued to play like a recorded message. Was this playback from the memories of the Goddess? The sensation made Axandra believe that this was actually a ghost message, a left over resonance within the room itself. The Goddess chose to playback only those memories that benefited its existence and stifled a great deal more.

“There are so many strange things you will experience,” the elder woman told her, those eyes focusing on the mirror again. “I wish I could tell you what will happen. You won't be ready. A mother always worries.” The apparition slumped heavily with fatigue. Elora appeared frail with age. She must have staged this mock conversation just shortly before she passed away.

“You will find powers you weren't aware existed, like the power to push with your mind and the power to sway those around you with mere thought. You have not learned how to control them the way my mother taught me, the way I should have taught you. My darling girl.” Tears swelled up in those eyes and the face disappeared from the mirror. The memory stopped there.

“Mother?” Axandra called out. “Wait.”

But there was nothing she could do to call the image back.

Miri appeared in the doorway, having heard the Protectress' voice. “Can I get you something?”

Axandra pretended to be asleep, and within moments, she was no longer pretending.

+++

17th Hexember

By morning,
every nerve in her body hurt. Axandra had no desire to get out of bed or to see anyone. She picked through her small portion of breakfast since her stomach did not want to keep many solids down. Sipping her tea helped relieve the pain.

“The Healer asked me to put the elixir in your tea,” Miri admitted as her mistress drank. “She stopped in while you were still asleep.”

“That is some splendid stuff.” Axandra sighed as her body relaxed. Her left arm felt awkwardly restricted by the splint, lying stiff and immobile at her side.

“It is,” Miri agree, smiling briefly. Then her face returned to nervous concern. Her heel tapped on the ground as she sat in the chair nearby.

“Why do you look so worried, Miri?” Axandra asked, for the moment her brain artificially free of any strife. “Or did the Healer tell you something she didn't tell me?”

“It's not that, Madam. It's—” Miri stammered, searching for the right words. “It's that you remind me of your mother.”

“You knew her?”

Miri nodded. “I've served at the Palace for five years now. I helped care for her when she became gravely ill.”

Axandra felt a twinge of jealously. “You probably knew her better than I ever did.” She gave a little laugh at the end to try to smooth over the hurt that influenced the words. The effect of the elixir made the laugh sound too loud in her ears.

Eyes downcast, Miri apologized, “I'm sorry, Madam. I didn't mean to offend you.”

“Five years,” Axandra tried to wash over it. “You're so young. You've practically grown up here.”

“I was seventeen when I moved in. I wanted to serve where I might be the most helpful. You see, I was always very sick as a child, and I'm not very strong. Physical labor tires me too quickly so farming or building isn't suitable. When an opening came to work here, I took it immediately.” Miri slowed herself down at that point, as she had grown quite animated with her story. “The Protectress-past used to talk about you all the time. She always said you were alive. She was so convinced of it that I started to believe her too. It turns out she was right. I am—I'm sorry.” Miri's eyes flooded with tears, and she hurriedly left the room before letting out a choked sob.

So Miri wasn't just a young girl charged with the new assignment of being the Protectress' aide. Knowing Miri's remoting abilities, Axandra suspected the aide knew more about the Protectress' burden than she let on.

The Goddess rummaged around inside her head again. For a powerful entity, Axandra found that it seemed quiet most of the time and unobtrusive. Only when it decided that she needed to feel the world did it open the floodgates and fill her mind with the voices. Sometimes the thing lay completely silent and almost forgettable. And sometimes, it slithered about the gray matter of her brain like a serpent, creeping here and there as though looking for something. What could it be looking for now?

Closing her eyes, weary of the intrusive sensation, Axandra practiced blocking pathways from the creature. The exercise proved futile, for the entity coiled securely within her brain.

Date Unknown

Riding on Reiko's shoulders,
Axandra could see above all of the heads in the crowd. The people were like the sea, undulating as they shifted from side to side, trying to witness the Protectress' arrival.

A silver, electric automobile moved slowly by the crowd and stopped nearby in front of the Principal's house. When Elora, the Protectress, appeared, Axandra felt an urge to cry out to her real mother, to run to her and go home with her. Yet she held back. She looked down at Reiko, her father, and Kari, her mother, the people who had taken her into their home with more love and affection than she could remember from anyone.

When Elora looked her way, waving at the people, Axandra wished to be invisible. She wished Elora would not see her or recognize her and she wouldn't have to go home. Those violet eyes passed over her several times, never focusing on the small girl perched so high. Elora continued waving for several minutes, smiling at the citizens who cheered for her and called to her. She appeared to be looking for someone, someone who wasn't to be seen anywhere.

Axandra remained quiet on her perch and watched her real mother turn away and disappear into the Principal's house.

“What did you think, Little One?” Reiko spoke up to her excitedly. “Isn't she wonderful!”

The child couldn't respond to the question with such enthusiasm. She signaled to be let down to the ground again and took hold of his hand to keep from getting lost in the mass. “Can we go home now?” Axandra asked, tugging at his fingers.

“Already? Don't you want to stay and have lunch?”

She shook her head. “I don't feel very well,” Axandra told them. Seeing her real mother made her feel queasy. Reiko lifted her up in his arms and held her close. Even for eight years old, she was tiny and light as a feather.

“All right,” he said. “You look tired.”

He carried her all the way home.

+++

20th Hexember, 307

After three days
of lying in bed, Axandra felt she had taken quite enough advantage of everyone and asked for a warm bath and her casual clothes. She would not spend another minute restricted to her quarters. Her ribs felt normal again, though her arm still ached and itched around the splint. She dismissed Miri's pleas to rest. Now was the time to get back to work. Regardless of her physical state, she was still the Protectress and the people relied on her to perform her expected duties.

Axandra dressed simply in white, wide-legged pants and a sleeveless tunic woven from a rainbow of wide ribbon-like strips. She pinned her hair up in a tousled mass on the back of her head to keep her neck cool. Today promised to be a scorcher, and she intended to remain indoors as much as possible.

Kindly she ordered Miri to take the day off from her duties. The girl had already worked more than her fair share these past few days and was entitled to her own time. Of course, the aide protested, arguing that her duties to the Protectress were of much higher importance than any personal errand. Insistently, Axandra asked her to leave.

“I can take care of my own needs for one day, Miri,” Axandra assured the younger woman. “Please, go. You look exhausted. At least go sleep in your own bed for a while. These sofas aren't that comfortable.”

“Madam, I—” Miri began to protest. She assumed her charge hadn't been aware of her nesting in the greatroom. “Very well. But I'll return to my duties this afternoon. You need me.”

Axandra smiled, endeared by Miri's dedication. “I do need you. But I need you to be at your best when I need it the most. I won't overdo it. I promise. Take the entire day.”

“Yes, Madam.” Reluctantly, Miri left through the main door of the residential suite, her entire body slumping with signs of fatigue.

Satisfied that Miri was on her way to bed, Axandra also left the Residence. As her Elite fell into step behind her, she noticed a different rotation today. Normally, Ben would be one of her guards at this time of day. He was notably absent.

Not one person inquired about the incident with the packhound or how she had been injured. Not even Ty came in search of answers, but that probably had a great deal to do with the Healer's strict orders to leave her in peace while she recovered.

The elixir administered over the past few days made her feel very sedate and almost mindless, so Axandra had concerned herself only with sleeping and eating and not much else. Finding the pain bearable, she refused the medicine this morning.

As she made her way down the wide staircase to the main floor, Axandra gave the matter serious thought. What had she done and how? She remembered clearly how Ben's weapon failed and he was unable to stun the beast. She remembered his thought at that moment, an instant of helplessness. Then one thing came to his mind—he would have to leap at the creature to block the attack. Knowing he'd be killed, she didn't give him the chance.

Slowing her descent, Axandra looked down at her left hand, still wrapped in bandages, and sought to remember the sensation flowing from her fingertips. The effect was not born of conscious intention, but rather the instinct to survive outshined anything of a deeper level.

Without words, the Elite following her waited for her to continue. She struggled with embarrassment for slowing them down, so she continued on her path to the Council Chamber in hopes of finding Nancy Morton. Nancy usually arrived in her office each workday morning by nine o'clock. It was now nine-thirty and Nancy busily read through a thick stack of paper.

“Good Morning, Head of Council,” the Protectress said as she stepped into the large office. She set the tone of her visit with a touch of vigor in her voice.

Nancy looked at her and let a brief smile curve her lips upward, softening her usually dour face. “Ah, Protectress. You're looking better than I expected. It's good that you weren't injured more severely.” Nancy stood and came from behind her desk, offering a courteous bow and gesturing that Axandra take a seat in one of the chairs that faced in.

“Yes. I feel quite fortunate,” Axandra responded, accepting the offer to sit. Morton returned to her high-backed swivel chair. “Pleasantries aside, Councilor, I see that you are perusing a rather large report,” Axandra put on a more serious air.

“Yes. More about the Believers and their epidemic. I received it just this morning,” Nancy made sure to say, delaying any doubt the report had been kept out of the Protectress' sight for very long.

“Not a good report, I take it,” Axandra surmised.

For a brief moment, Nancy avoided looking into those violet, all-seeing eyes. When she did look up, Axandra caught her line of sight immediately. The frown returned, an unpleasant, unwelcoming expression. “It doesn't look favorable. More cases than the Healers first suspected.”

“How many” Axandra asked reluctantly, knowing the number would make her heart ache.

“Five hundred three. Currently still within the Believer population, but the Healers fear the disease will spread to others soon. They don't agree with the summation that Soporus is the cause.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Nancy breathed deeply and noisily through her nose with her lips pinched tightly together. “The high number of sick will strain the Healers and anyone assisting them. And if violence continues to be a symptom, the Safety volunteers will be strained as well.”

“Won't the Healers' Council handle most of those details, at least for the medical aspect. I guess we need to recruit more Safety volunteers and improve training.”

“Yes, the Healers' Council is already reassigning Healers where they are needed most. I'll invite the Safety Coordinator to a meeting this afternoon to handle the arrangements for additional security.”

“Very good.”

Though Nancy seemed eager for her to go, Axandra did not rise just yet. The elder woman set her expression in that deep, unimpressed frown, staring at the Protectress across the table.

“Is there something else I can do for you, Your Honor?”

When Axandra started her way here, she believed that Nancy would be the best available source of information about her growing number of questions about the Goddess. But now, she wasn't certain she should confide in the Councilor at all. The emanations Nancy projected sent a discomforting shiver down her spine. She would need to remove herself as gracefully as possible.

“I wanted you to know that Ben, the Elite guard, should be commended for his actions,” she told Nancy. “He acted very honorably in my defense against the packhound. I haven't heard about him, and I hope he wasn't seriously injured, or worse, disciplined by Commander Narone.”

Nancy leaned back against her tall chair. “I haven't heard a word about Ben, but thank you for telling me. I will see to it that Ty knows your comments.” Nancy suspected there was more.

Axandra felt unwilling to divulge further details. She no longer understood the Councilor's intentions.

“Thank you, again, Councilor. If you hear anything about him, please let me know. I want to thank him for his quick thinking.”

“Of course.”

Rising from the soft chair, Axandra turned to leave the room. She straightened her spine, making herself feel taller and appear poised and confident in her actions.

A shadow moved in the far corner of the room but seemed to disappear as she turned her eyes in that direction. She checked for an open window that might have moved the curtain, but the windows were closed.

Did Nancy know she had a guest? Saying nothing, Axandra left the office, closing the door behind her. The invisible figure would not be able to follow her, if that was his plan. As the door clicked shut, she thought she heard Nancy speaking to someone. Not to be seen spying, she curbed her curiosity and walked away from the office. Instead, she sent out the tendrils of her mind to listen inside Nancy's head, the same technique she was always admonished for as a child, caught snooping in other's brains. She hadn't done so in many years. She found the function easy to perform undetected.

Once voice rang through her ears for just a moment.

“
I detest your methods,
” Nancy said, the voice carrying the resonance of hearing oneself talk. “She can sense you here.”

The other voice sounded distorted and incomprehensible. That mind skillfully blocked intrusion

However, Axandra's suspicions were confirmed in part. The Prophets were here secretly. To what end, she was uncertain. Perhaps she was conceited to think it was about her, but other reasons seemed unlikely, especially if Nancy Morton conspired with them. Breaking the connection, Axandra headed back upstairs.

+++

“
Did she see you?
” Nancy questioned the Prophet who stood at the corner of her desk. Tyrane came from the shadow of the drapes as soon as the Protectress closed the door.

“I do not believe she did.”

“Did you let the beast in?” Nancy accused, an index finger jabbing the air in front of him. “You could have gotten her killed.”

“I did not allow the beast through the gate,” he denied stoically, his pale face masked of any emotion. “But I rigged the gate to remain unlocked. The hound could have pushed its way in. We do not wish to harm the Protectress. She is still needed.”

Nancy pursed her lips tightly, still dissatisfied with the explanation. She moved on. “So what about Soporus? You were going to tell me what would come with her passing.” She fought down her bubbling ire. She began to regret the course of events set in motion by accepting the Prophets into the Palace in stealth. Their ability to conceal themselves from lesser minds made her shudder.

“The approach of the Sister planet brings about a great number of curious behaviors, not all of which can be anticipated,” the Prophet told her.

“You refer to the curana and the packhounds or the Believers?”

“All. Their behaviors are most erratic.”

“I don't see how it makes them starve when they are eating or rant demented nonsense?”

Though Nancy appeared quite animated on her end of the discussion, pointing this way and that, eyes wide, the Prophet remained undisturbed.

“It is the best explanation for what they are experiencing.”

“It's also a heap of compost. Something else is wrong with them and your people know what it is.” Nancy stood close to him, poking him in the chest. “You need to help them. You need to fix this before—”

The room dimmed around her eyes. Blinking, Nancy stood staring across the office, uncertain why she had gotten up. Looking about, she thought maybe she was heading to the lavatory. Yes. That must have been it. Funny to forget something like that. Her brain must be tired from reading that dreaded report.

+++

Axandra returned
to her rooms for some difficult-to-find privacy. Perhaps if she sorted out her memory she might find the secret to the force she channeled. Perhaps she could use it for a better purpose. She felt deep guilt for having killed the animal, despite its intentions to kill her. Her people spent many centuries removing lethal violence from their lives, and she had taken a horrible step backward.

She stopped in the main room, looking around for something she might use for practice. Her mother's message echoed in her thoughts that she would find unimagined powers. The power to push with her mind being one. She had definitely pushed—and hard—to protect herself from the attacking hound.

Seating herself on one of the solid chairs, Axandra focused on a miniature metal statuette on the tea table. The figurine of bronze represented a tree and was quite heavy for its size.

She breathed deeply, her diaphragm and lungs moving in and out. From her toes, she relaxed each muscle. As this reached her brain, she thought back to the garden, of hiding in the hedges. Then of seeing the Prophet sneak by and the guard finding her. She recalled the intensity of the shout and the sinister growl and the way the noises made her heart race. She remembered staring down the animal, its yellow eyes boring into her with its fixed gaze.

Axandra allowed her soul to summon up the fear of the moment. Her heart raced while, in her mind's eye, she watched the slow motion of Ben attempting to discharge his weapon. His expression changed as he went through his options. To save her, he had one option remaining. Before Ben could intercept the beast, Axandra raised her hand. From inside her heart, the surge grew.