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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 Chapter 97: Heroes Chapter 98: Fire, Water, and Wax Chapter 99: Beneath the Temple Chapter 100: The Way of Eagles Chapter 101: The Gallu Chapter 102: The Cast Off Chapter 103: The Empty Bed Chapter 104: If It Is Her Will Chapter 105: Hunger Chapter 106: The Strigoi-Viu's Gift Chapter 107: Pennyroyal Chapter 108: Forgiveness Chapter 109: Fragile Chapter 110: Another Lord Prince Chapter 111: Divine Intervention Chapter 112: Chance to Live Chapter 113: Accusations Chapter 114: Negotiations Chapter 115: Dark Memories Chapter 116: Forgotten

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Chapter 116: Forgotten

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The stone hands of the Lady felt warm and alive under Aisha’s fingers.  She stared into the face of Her Goddess and saw her own mother reflected there.  Aisha raised her eyes to the figure behind the Lady.  Thought, the husband of the Goddess, features etched with concern and sadness as he beheld his wife.  In his arms, the infant reached forward, her Mother just beyond her grasp.  Aisha's hands traced the face of the Goddess, then turned to Her companion. 

"You are Thought, the father of us all," said Aisha as she examined his statue.  "And this is Mila the first.  My mother is named for you.  You are still known as Beloved in the temple above." 

She took another step forward towards the carved wall of the cave behind the Holy Family.  Fourteen eagles, seven on the right and seven on the left, wound their way above their Mother, father, and youngest sister.  Condensation from the steaming lake glistened on their wings as it ran down the surface of the rock, giving them the appearance of movement as Aisha walked before them. 

Could this have been the temple before the temple was built?  Aisha imagined the cavern filled with worshippers surrounding the statues.  Perhaps the story of the Lady and Her Beloved on the scroll was recited here before them to tell the story of the Holy Family and how the Lady’s people came to Adyll. 

She sat down on the floor in front of the bas relief and gazed out through the steam to the glowing lake, listening to the dripping sounds from the stalactites above, the sound and warmth lulling her almost to sleep.  Why would you build a temple above such a holy place?  Why would you obscure it and hide it?  How could long had it been forgotten?  How long since a Queen paid her respects to her holy ancestors, and how long since a high priestess offered flowers or burned a sacred flame here? 

Why would you want to forget such beauty? 

Her eyes fell on Thought's broad shoulders. 

Why did no one teach us of him? What else have we forgotten? 

Her thoughts wandered back to the scrolls she found in the library and the stories held within, and the old plans for the temple complex she traced on vellum.  The map of the deep waters she found the day she sealed the scrolls in wax.  If there was anything to be called deep waters, it would be this place.  She returned to where she dropped her bags and started digging through the bag for the maps she had copied.  The map mentioning deep waters should be there, and it could show her the way somewhere far from the capital.  Manah said he was hiding among the shepherds to the west. 

If she could find him, Manah would help her. 

She found the map and unrolled it, trying to examine it in the green flickering light.  She could see the lake, a black shape with concentric lines spreading outward from its center where the capital should be, and tracing away from it another winding jagged line leading west.  If she could find the outlet from the lake, she should be able to follow it away from the city.  She repacked the bag, chewing a piece of flatbread as she did.  It was then she realized her pilfered torches were no longer there. 

Panicked, she searched everywhere she could look for the missing torches, but they seemed to have vanished without a trace. 

"I am not going back," she whispered to herself.  "I can't.  There is light enough here, and if the waters ahead are like these, I will have light enough.  I will not return to that place." 

She looked back at the impassive statues behind her.  "Watch over me, Lady.  Watch over me, Thought.  I pray I do not run out of light." 

Aisha slung the bag of rations and supplies over her shoulder and picked up the wax covered scroll case.  It felt soft and slick in her hands.  Her heart dropped in her chest.  The protective wax she spent hours applying to the case slowly melting in the heat radiating from the lake.  The greatest danger to the written word is fire, and like to it is its opposite, water.  Here, both heat and water combined and became another danger. 

She had to get away from the lake.  The inlet on the map might be even warmer, but she would have to chance it.  She climbed up further towards the cave wall and away from the shore where the air was slightly cooler and followed the wall, keeping her eye on the lake below.  Behind her, steam enfolded the statues of the Holy Family obscuring them from view.  She continued along the wall, determined to find the way out of the cavern and the river leading to the west and freedom. 

After what seemed like hours, the glow from the lake below dimmed and the air cooled further causing the wax on the scroll case to once again become solid beneath her hands.  She stopped to rest, eating the last of her piece of flatbread and drinking from the water skin.  Now that the scrolls were safe and she could no longer see the far side of the lake, she felt exhaustion creeping over her once again.  She lay her head down on her bag and hugged the scroll case close.  She may have lost her torches, but she would not lose the stories contained within the wax and wood. 

Sleep took her quickly, and she dreamed of Nasreen kneeling at the edge of the lake, a baby at her breast while tears flowed from her eyes like the water dripping from the ceiling above. 

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