Call of the Goddess: A Bona Dea Novel (Stormflies Book 1) by Elizabeth N. Love

service of this magnitude. The last two weeks, she'd seen the slimmest example of what lay in store for her for decades to come. Perhaps she never would be ready. But her parents—her adopted parents—taught her to follow through with her commitments, and that is what she would do.

The Ceremony
    25th Quadrember, 307
     
    The ceremony would begin at five o'clock. At four o'clock, Axandra dressed and sat at the vanity while Lynn and Miri styled her hair in cascading tresses held in place with gold, sparkling hairpins. The girls chatted excitedly while they worked, commenting how beautiful the Heir would be processing down the aisle and how they wished they could be on the floor.
    “But we'll have an even better view from the mezzanine,” Lynn said. “I hope to get up there early, if Marta doesn't think I need to be somewhere else.”
    Axandra applied color to her lips while listening to them pine their lowly status.
    “But it would be so much nicer to down among the principals and governors, right near the Gifts,” Miri bemoaned, pinning up a hunk of curls. “I've always wanted to see them up close instead of in photographs.”
    A knock came at the main entrance of the Residence. Lynn hurried to see who came calling. When she returned, she had only a message. “Councilor Morton wishes to see you in her office in a few minutes. There is word about the missing man from Cutoff.”
    The two women finished the preparations so that Axandra could get downstairs. Axandra hoped to hear good news. Following her to keep the train of her dress from dragging, Miri and Lynn scurried to keep up the pace down the wide staircase and into the Council wing.
    In Morton's office gathered four other Councilors. The Night Watcher from the village of Cutoff had returned to Undun City with the Assistors. With everyone present, he gave his report.
    “He's been found, Your Honor. However, he's not well. The Healer says he isn't likely to survive. He shows signs of malnourishment and dehydration to the point that his body is shutting down. A smaller group of Assistors stayed in Cutoff to help the Healer care for him.” He was clearly distressed. Like everyone in the room, he hoped to bring better news. He continued with the details of the search. “We found him a two days ago in the woods,” the Watcher described, “curled up at the trunk of a broken tree. He clutched a small kitchen knife. He wouldn't move or speak. I've known this man all of his life—and the man we found wasn't the one I remember. He looked like a ghost and only mumbled nonsense.” He looked to the councilors with pleading eyes, seeking explanation. Finding nothing, his eyes fell away again to his memories. “He's very sick. I pray the Healer can find what's wrong with him.”
    Axandra must have witnessed the Assistors in the forest those few nights ago, as she remembered the trees and the smell of decay. Perhaps those voices calling out were the ones to find the man. Had she continued to share the moment, perhaps she would have witnessed him too and seen what the Night Watcher described.
    Axandra approached the man. The Councilors took notice and tensed, uncertain what to expect from her.
    “May I take your hand,” Axandra asked the man, holding her own hand palm up toward him.
    Timidly, he lifted his hand, one roughened from work and weather. He hesitated before placing it in hers, gulping so that his prominent larynx bobbed up just below his chin. Despite his height and bulk, he behaved like a timid child.
    At the touch, the images of the lost man filled her vision. Pale and ghastly, he appeared like one already dead. Lips thin, he trembled, the only sound he made a hissing noise and slight moans as he shook.
    While sharing these thoughts, Axandra projected comfort to the Watcher and offered him strength. He clung to it, for he felt weak and helpless against this unknown thing.
    “I promise we will do everything we can to discover what happened to your friend,”