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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 40: A Prophecy for Baraz

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Still confined to the women's quarters, Aisha lay on her cot.  Boredom threatened to consume her before her courses ended.  She had already consumed the story in the scroll so many times in the last few days she could recite portions of it from memory.  It left her restless for more stories.  She was tempted to sneak across the temple to the library but stopped herself.  If she was caught outside the dormitory in her unclean state, she would put herself in danger of discovery. 

Nasreen left for her shift in the brothel an hour ago.  The other women in confinement with Aisha were older and spent their time gossiping amongst each other or sleeping.  Aisha kept herself separate from them out of shyness or fear, she didn't know which. 

Before the fall of Adyll, today would have been celebrated as a holy feast - the time of equal day and night.  During this holy time, citizens would spend their day in final preparation for welcoming their deceased loved ones into their homes when the sun set.  Favorite meals were prepared for those who most recently passed into the Goddess' embrace.  The palace and temple would be hung with autumn leaves and flowers brought from lower elevations.  Two hours before dusk, the city would gather in the temple to hear the oracles' prophecy before the sacred fire.  Each household would call their dead by name as they lit their lanterns to carry them home where the dead would feast with the living.  All night, the streets would be lit as neighbors and friends shared meals and traded stories of their departed loved ones. 

Aisha remembered her own family's lantern, how her mother carried it from the sanctuary through the hidden entrance to the catacombs.  They would stop at each sarcophagus to recite the name of the former Queen whose likeness was carved there.  Before she was Aisha, Irinya asked why they did not invite the ancestor papas along with the ancestor mamas to come to dinner with them.  Her father told her it was because the fathers lived in the mama's hearts and became a part of them upon death.  Irinya had nodded as if she understood, but she did not.   

How could she forget her papa, King Pytr?  He was a kind man who carried her on his shoulders and always caught her when she fell.  Not like these new men who occupied Adyll, the same men who had killed her papa. 

Aisha wiped a tear from her cheek.  She vowed to teach her father's name to her children.  She would not allow him to be forgotten along with the others. 

Shaking herself from her reverie, she noticed the room filling with women returning early from their duties across the temple.  A moment later the Holy Mother entered the room followed shortly by Nasreen and the other temple prostitutes.  The old woman motioned everyone to gather around her as drums began to sound from outside in the courtyard. 

"There is an announcement.  All residents of the city, even those of you in confinement, must assemble as we did the night of the city's surrender.  The king will be arriving within the next few hours with a captured Zorya." The old woman's voice shook as she spoke.  

Terrified murmuring rose among the women. 

"Quiet.  Quiet!  Calm yourselves," said the old woman.  "I do not know how this man could have captured one who can see between the worlds, but he has.  His power and darkness know no bounds.  We must contain our anger and fear within ourselves and obey as we have since he became king.  Our place is here in the temple as it always has been." 

"Holy Mother, what will he do to her?" asked one of the older women. 

"I do not know, sister.  Only an oracle can see where this may lead," said the priestess.  "And it seems even this is beyond their sight." 

Aisha felt Nasreen's hand on her shoulder.  "Don’t worry. I will be there with you.  We shall see another horror together.  I doubt it will be the last, Aisha." 

"Where is the Princess Irinya, witch?” Baraz spat the words at the grey-robed woman who knelt on the throne room floor. “They call you an oracle, do they not?  I have read of your kind in your library.  Filthy women living in the forest in hovels, bleaching your hair with ashes and rendered fat to look like your demon Goddess."   

"When you become as old as I am, young man, you become so close to the Goddess that you no longer need the ashes," laughed Zora. 

"Baraz, I do not believe this woman can tell us where the princess is hiding.  She is nothing but a crazed old crone who was wandering to the forest terrifying children for amusement," Mahleck droned.  "I am becoming bored with this.  The only ashes I wish to see are the ones she turns into once we cleanse the evil from her body." 

"Oh, strigoi-viu," said the oracle in a sing-song voice.  "Poor little Mahleck, spoiled little boy.  Thinks he is owed what cannot be bought.  The blood of the Goddess is not yours to drink. She told you so long, long ago.  You stole a taste and now you cannot slake your thirst!" 

"Where is the princess?!" screamed Baraz. "Answer my question, witch!" 

"Come closer and I will tell you a prophecy," she whispered.  "One of blood and pain, of gold turned to mud and a new story yet to be written." 

Baraz leaned closer.  "Speak up, you mumbling old fool!" 

Zora fell to the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head as she arched her back. 

"Baraz, raised to glorious adulation above your fellows, chosen of the Locusts," intoned the crone. "I prophesy this day that you shall lick the backside of your strigoi-viu master and feast upon his shit." She sat up as if nothing had happened and erupted into a loud cackle. 

"I bore of this entertainment, Baraz.  Summon the guard and take her to the temple.  Let her prophesy while the flames lick her backside," said Mahleck as he rose from his throne and left them both behind.  Her cackling echoed down the hall mocking him as he went. 

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