She rounded the corner to her chambers and observed the door wide open – no attempt whatsoever had been made at subterfuge. The Priestess walked through her door to see Tamara, of the order of warrior priestesses, sitting calmly in a chair beside the window. She rose as the Priestess entered.
“Winter,” Tamara greeted her.
“Mother,” the Priestess replied.
“It’s time to end this,” Tamara implored her.
“This needs be done.”
“No matter how clearly you believe you see the path, there are always other ways.”
“We’ve been through this, mother.”
“Come back to us. It’s never too late,” Tamara beseeched her daughter and held out her arms.
The Priestess stepped forward slowly into her mother’s embrace, allowing her to be wrapped in her arms. She breathed in the scent of her mother’s skin and felt her mother’s hair against her cheek. She was transported for a moment to a faraway time and place.
Tamara stiffened as the dagger entered her heart. She kissed her daughter’s cheek, and her eyes clouded.
The Priestess held her mother a moment longer, then let her body slump to the floor. “You knew how this would end – and still you came. You knew,” she accused her bitterly and wiped away the only tear she would allow to escape.
She sat down slowly on her bed and stared at her mother’s body. She looked to her bedside bookcase and reached for the history of her mother’s people. She sat leafing through the blank pages of the book. Perhaps it’s fitting that their story should vanish with her, she thought.
“Guards!” she yelled, cradling the counterfeit book in her lap. This took knowledge, access, materials, and talent, she thought.
Two monks burst through her door, short swords at the ready, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Tamara’s body on the floor in an ever-widening pool of blood.
“Have this cleaned up,” she ordered them, waving vaguely at her feet. “And I want the heads of my consort, my librarian, and my illustrator.”
“As you wish, Priestess,” the men replied and withdrew.
She sat immobile. Things are as they must be, she told herself. Why else had she left the book in plain view? No matter how many times she repeated it, it didn’t sting any less.
All the pieces were on the board and in motion.
Read on for a preview of
Queen’s Sacrifice
Final book in
The Goddess’s Scythe Series
Prologue
The gnome-like man closed his eyes and dropped the torch onto the powder. A trail of flame sped down the corridor behind him.
“Run!” Kala yelled and raced to the heavy door, wrenching it open and darting through. She slowed to let Grey and Seline catch her, and together they hurried down the ramp, every step an eternity.
They had barely made it to the bottom when the building erupted in a massive fireball. Kala shoved her companions out of the way as the blast funneled down the ramp and lifted her off her feet, depositing her in a broken heap.
She lay on her back, contemplating the starry sky. She couldn’t feel any part of her body, but at least she didn’t feel cold when the life left her.
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