Call of the Goddess: A Bona Dea Novel (Stormflies Book 1) (33 page)

29th Octember, 307

From the northwest,
a single car drove into the city. From watch on the third floor of the hilltop Palace, Elite Guard Mikel Waters spotted the incoming vehicle. Mikel whistled from the window down to Ben in the courtyard, where he stood speaking with Councilor Sara Sunsun, whom had just arrived from North Compass.

“Small car coming in from the mountain road,” Mikel called out, pointing in the distance. “My bet it's the Protectress.”

Ben peered in the same direction, but seeing outside the city was more difficult at ground level.

“Thank you,” Ben called back.

“I'll wait here, if you don't mind,” Councilor Sunsun requested.

“Very well. Healer Gage should arrive momentarily. He asked to be informed when the Protectress returned.” Ben gestured for one of the guards posted at the front entrance. Per Ty's remote commands, additional Elite were posted throughout the structure, always in pairs to be alert of any Stormfly activity.

“Will Gage be assigned to the Palace as Gray's replacement?” Sara asked.

“I would not know that, Ma'am,” Ben replied.

The Councilor pursed her lips to keep her comment to herself. Most people did not like Healer Gage due to his gruff bedside manner. Gage typically emitted a cold aura and masked his face from any outward signs of emotion. Sara doubted the Protectress would care to have the sour man as her permanent physician.

+++

Axandra's companions
woke her when they reached the outer edge of the city, where the rutted dirt tracks melded with the brick paved avenue, the street that would take them straight to the hill.

Groggy from her nap, she yawned and stretched her limbs before pushing herself upright in the seat. She used Quinn's lap for a pillow and lay across the wide bench. Across from her sat Ty and Odon, a Prophet Healer. He accompanied her to continue the treatment of her burns and of her overall health. After just the last week, Axandra had already regained some of her weight and her skin tone returned to a healthy alabaster glow. She began to look like herself again, except for her green eyes.

They all noticed, she could sense, but no one said anything to her about them, not even Quinn, who stared into her eyes every chance he got.

She saw herself in the mirror just that morning, before they left the Haven. Axandra marveled at her own recovery, unable to believe the stick figure from before looked human again. The eyes, so like a stranger's, looked back at her. Green and bright. No longer the unique color of violet. Thinking of the old color made her queasy, like everything else artificial about her recent life.

She felt satisfied with green. These were her eyes and the things they saw were hers alone.

Faster than wildfire, the news of her impending arrival reached the ears of the Palace staff. By the time they reached the Palace circle, members of the staff gathered in the courtyard and front hall to greet her.

“Look at all of them,” Quinn marveled, counting the number of people standing outside. “Word travels fast around here.”

“More are coming up the hill,” Ty alerted, pointing back down the slope. Droves of people moved in their direction. They all wanted to see the Protectress for themselves.

The moment the car stopped, Quinn hopped out, not waiting for the drivers to open the doors. He offered his assistance to Axandra, for which she smiled gratefully. Sitting so long in the car had brought the aches back to her bones and muscles.

When she first appeared, every single person within sight held their breath. Even the wind died down for a moment. Then cheers arose, along with clapping and whistling. The attention was quite embarrassing, actually. She didn't know if she deserved such a welcome. The Stormflies, floods, and drought threatened their established way of life.

Unbidden, their thoughts struck her. Their numbers focused solely on her. She listened for a moment, her eyes roaming over the crowd.

She's alive! (What happened to her? She looks so beaten) Who kidnapped her? (Did you hear she almost died?)

“Wave to the people,” Quinn prompted, touching her shoulder. She managed to lift her good arm and motion vaguely to the still growing crowd. Their faces blurred together. Feeling light-headed, she covered her eyes with one hand. As she swayed, she felt strong hands steady her. They were Quinn's hands.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asked in a whisper close to her ear.

“I'll be all right,” she assured, though her head pounded with the ruckus of those around her. She attempted to shake off the disorientation and turned to the members of the staff waiting to welcome her home. They all smiled at her. She felt their relief wash over her. Some were surprised to see her again.

Sara Sunsun, who waited patiently to the side, made her way forward and gave each Quinn and Axandra a tight embrace. “It's good to see you both here again.

“Thank you, Sara,” Quinn accepted her hug eagerly, glad to have the comfort of an old friend.

A contingent of guards lined the circle, keeping the increasing crowd in check at a decent distance. Ty barked curt orders in a few directions, his eyes evaluating the situation, counting heads, and weighing sides. “We should move inside.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Axandra accepted, feeling beleaguered after the trip.

Marta heard and snapped at everyone, ordering them to get back to work. “We'll have time to celebrate later,” she told them. “We've your rooms back in order, Your Honor. You go on upstairs and get in bed. You look be—Hmm-mm. You look exhausted.”

Axandra was glad Marta recalled her original choice of words. “Beat” seemed completely inappropriate considering her bruised complexion.

Three Elite fell into step behind her as she proceeded inside the main hall supported by Quinn's bent arm.

“I hate to jump into the deep end of business right away, Your Honor,” Sara said, donning her Councilor cap as they processed upstairs. “With Nancy Morton's passing, the Council has scheduled an emergency session to elect a new Head of Council, and then to immediately discuss and pass orders for dealing with recent and future crimes.”

Reminded of Morton's sudden and unexpected death, Axandra paused her steps to reflect for only a moment. In her desire to do what was good for the people, Morton had committed crimes against the Protectress and others. While the Healers diagnosed the cause of death as a cardiac arrest, a shadow of suspicion led to rumors that the condition was forced by unnatural means. “Who is expected to be elected?”

“Antonette Lelle. She immediately stepped up handle matters when Nancy passed. It's only been a week, and we've seen marvelous things from her,” Sara explained. “She has always been willing and ready to step up when needed.”

Continuing up the stairs, Axandra nodded approval. Councilor Lelle would quite possibly improve upon the job that Nancy Morton left behind. “When will the other Councilors arrive? When is the meeting scheduled?”

“I was the last one to arrive, Madam,” Sara admitted. “We are set to gather at two this afternoon.”

That did not allow much time for rest, Axandra lamented to herself. Aloud, she announced, “I will be ready to attend.”

“Axandra, I don't think—” Quinn protested, followed closely by Healer Odon's echo.

She halted them both with her bandaged hand sweeping between them. “I will be there.” She gave no room for further argument.

Sara, choosing to stay out of the debate, bowed her head and dropped away from the group to return to the main floor.

Reserving further remarks until they reached the residential suite, Odon protested more insistently, “Protectress, you have recently undergone physical and psychological trauma beyond which most people can survive, let alone recover from in such a short time. Returning to your duties is out of the question. You are placing yourself at risk of infection, as well as psychic and mental breakdown.”

“And who is at fault for all of those things, Odon?” Axandra spat at the Prophet. She had managed to contain her frustration for the duration of the trip thanks to fatigue. Within her private walls, she allowed herself to vent. “Because of your people, I have no choice but to return to my duties immediately in order to ensure that my people have a fighting chance against an enemy that has the ability to infiltrate any of us on an atomic level. You have performed your duties as required, and I thank you for your assistance. Now that I am home, your services are no longer required.”

With a locked jaw, Odon silently spun on his heel and left.

“Was that really necessary?” Quinn questioned.

“Don't start,” Axandra snapped, then she took a momentary pause to inhale a settling breath. “Please. If I could just climb into my bed and stay there for a week, I would. I need you to help me, Quinn. I need support.”

Against his better judgment, he promised, “I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. Let Healer Gage in. I am going to change.”

“Let—” Confused, Quinn started to ask how she would know that anyone was coming to the door when no one had knocked. The knock itself interrupted him, and upon opening the inner door, Quinn came face-to-face with Phineas Gage. “Uh, good morning, Healer.”

“Good morning, sir. You are?”

“Quinn Elgar. A friend of the Protectress. She is expecting you. She'll be ready in a moment.” Quinn gestured that the Healer come in.

“That is acceptable. Since you are here, perhaps you can begin the explanation of what injuries the Protectress sustained so that I may continue her treatment.”

“Certainly, and while we're on that subject, I'd better warn you about her plans.” Quinn offered the Healer a seat and dove directly into a very long story.

3rd Decamber, 307

“
Good afternoon,
Councilor Lelle,” Axandra said to Antonette as she stepped into the large office. The woman appeared in the midst of moving in her things, though her election took place several weeks ago. “And, though it is a bit late, I'd like to extend a personal congratulations on your election as Head of Council. I expect you will perform excellently in the position.”

“That's what everyone must think,” the old woman said humbly, turning away from the crate on the desk. “Since they voted me to the top. Thank you, Your Honor. I will strive to do my absolute best.”

Axandra did not doubt Lelle would do just that. Antonette assumed responsibility for defraying the crises that arose in the aftermath of the Passing, from the housing shortage across the continent, as well as coordinating massive food shipments to be disbursed evenly among the affected population. The other Councilors followed her example and accepted her delegation of jobs that needed doing. In the near future, the Protectress expected similar leadership in dealing with the continuing threat of the Stormflies.

“And so I come to avail you to perform in your official capacity on a matter of a personal nature,” the Protectress declared as the purpose of her visit.

“Certainly. What is it?” Lelle asked eagerly, a toothy smile filling her wrinkled pink face.

Stepping forward, Axandra held out a single sheet of paper and paused a moment while Antonette glanced at the ink. The gray brows knit in confusion.

“This is a petition to formally change my given name from Ileanne to Axandra,” she explained. “I thought the approval might need to come from a higher power than the principal of Undun.”

“Well, that might be. Hmm, a very curious proposal. I thought—well, I'm not sure I understand.” After stumbling through her statement, the councilor looked up at her perplexed. “Why would you do this?”

Having anticipated the question, Axandra pointed at the middle paragraph of her petition. “As I described, I have used this name for over twenty years. It is my foremost identity. It's who I am.”

“I don't pretend to understand what you went through while you were incognito,” the woman began, pacing a few steps to the left, tapping the corner of the paper on her crooked teeth. “But coming home, you are Ileanne. You have reclaimed her identity. Your parents named you this.”

Pursing her lips in disappointment, Axandra realized she hadn't expected much resistance. She was Protectress and granted certain liberties. The change in name affected few, namely herself and Quinn, but mostly how she signed official documents. How did she explain the desire to distance herself from a name associated with a lost child and a man she'd never met until five minutes before he died.

“Councilor, I left Ileanne behind a long time ago. I am not that little girl. I grew up as Axandra and that's who I am today,” she stated, her voice soft yet dramatic. She felt strongly that she deserved this one favor. “Each time I sign that name, I feel like I'm stealing someone else's identity. It's uncomfortable, and frankly stirs up some very unpleasant memories. I want that name laid to rest out of respect.”

“That's a heart-felt argument,” Antonette remarked. She looked over the hand-written paper again, her nostrils flaring slightly as she considered the implications. “Your reasoning is sound, and I have no good reason to deny you this wish. You have performed a greater service to the world than even I can comprehend.” She accompanied these words with a glance at the heavily bandaged hand. Parking herself in the tall backed chair behind the desk, Councilor Lelle took up her pen. In a quick scribble, she signed her approval, then called for an aide to witness her signature. Finally, she stamped the parchment with the Head of Council's seal, a circle dotted with stylized heads to represent the people. The seal took up nearly six centims of the page. “It is official, Your Honor,” she declared, smiling again as she lifted the paper back to its owner. “Take it to the archives to record, then the name is yours to use as you wish—not that you haven't for a while.”

“Well I did compromise a little,” Axandra pointed out. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your understanding.”

“As I said, you deserve it.”

“Good day,” Axandra wished, turning out the door again. In her hand, she held the document with a delicate touch and headed directly for the Archives in the basement holds. From this day forward, she would always be known as Axandra Saugray.

+++

Evening settled
over the east. The last brilliant rays reflected orange and pink on the underside of the heavy snow-filled clouds moving in on the cold front. Snow would cover everything by morning.

After changing the dressing on her hand, with Quinn's assistance, Axandra ventured out onto the balcony. She and Quinn donned their jackets and sweaters against the cold wind. The air smelled of the crisp, dry scent of ice. Clouds of breath formed from each of their noses as they stared out toward the prairie. Axandra stayed close to her companion, shielding herself from the gusts and gleaning comfort from his warmth. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he drew her closer still.

“I haven't seen snow since I was a child,” she mentioned, trying to remember what a white world looked and felt like. She'd been five the year of her last snowfall. Since then she had lived further south, where it hadn't snowed in the last fifty years.

“Well, if it isn't too cold, perhaps we should join the kids for sledding tomorrow,” Quinn suggested with all seriousness. “The hill makes a perfect run, though you have to watch out for what's at the bottom.”

Sledding sounded like fun, she thought at first, but then considered her hand and the lingering soreness of her bruises and thought the better of it. She didn't need to add other injuries to her abused body, as least not intentionally. “Maybe,” she said in a doubtful tone. “Maybe we can just stay in and keep each other warm.”

She heard the soft puffs of escaping air that came with a restrained chuckle. Turning her eyes to him, she witnessed his smile. “Is that such a bad idea?”

“No,” he said, unable to fight the grin. “Not at all, my dear. You just can't seem to get enough of me, is all.”

“When Spring comes, I'll be traveling again and so will you,” she reminded. “I want to take advantage of our time together. Admit that you feel the same way.”

“You already know how I feel,” he claimed, dodging the request.

“That doesn't matter,” she scolded lightly, kissing the fingers of the hand that draped around from behind her shoulders. “I still like to hear about it. Don't let me think you don't care about me.”

“You know that isn't true,” he pouted. “I do care about you, very deeply. So deeply, in fact, that I don't even know what to say.”

“Just say you'll stay with me,” she requested, as she had many times. “You don't have to promise to stay forever, just for the night.”

He pursed his brows curiously. “What about the next night?”

“I'll ask you about that tomorrow,” she promised.

Shifting, Quinn turned his body toward her and leaned on the stone railing. She felt his eyes look over her, study her, and try to decide if she played a game with him. “What if I want to stay for a long time? Can I just tell you that now, so you don't have to ask me tomorrow?”

“What if you change your mind?” she tempted. She worried for a moment that he grew tired of her teasing, until he flashed a coy smile her way.

“Change my mind?” he said, pretending to mull over the proposition. “I never even thought of that. I guess I could change my mind and go home. That might save me a lot of work.” He stroked his stubbly chin and stared up at the clouds in thought. “Oh, but I've put so much effort forth already.”

Axandra bumped him with her shoulder playfully. “And every bit is appreciated,” she told him gratefully.

“Well, I'll think it over tonight and let you know in the morning,” he said at last.

She moved into his arms again and looked into his eyes as they reflected that last bit of light in the air. “I love you, Quinn. I want you to know that. I've loved you since …” Her voice fell silent, trying to decide when the notion first occurred to her. It wasn't really the day they met—she'd barely even remembered his face from that day in Lazzonir, and the day at the dig were events only she remembered. But that was the day, walking among the antique pieces, listening to him described the Ancients, sensing his protective aura and seeing the way he smiled at her. She chose something simpler. “I've loved you all this time.”

“And I love you,” he responded sincerely. “I will stay with you as long as you will let me stay.”

“And what if I want you to stay forever?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Instead of allowing himself to be pulled into the circular logic, he bent his lips to hers for a tender kiss. She giggled at him at first, then just enjoyed the moment. She felt safe and warm and loved and everything in the world seemed right. In the morning, she would worry about her people again, about their homes, about their health and their rations, and about their opinion of her. Tonight, Quinn was the only person to exist.

THE END