Call of the Goddess: A Bona Dea Novel (Stormflies Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

forefront of one's mind. Nancy couldn't help thinking about the letter. After six days, she grew restless waiting. She was about to give up that anyone would step forward to claim the note. Her inquiries into the location of a person named Axandra Korte turned up nothing. No one could find record that such a person existed. A fictitious name on a fictitious piece of drivel.
    Miri caught the first stray thoughts about a visitor coming to Undun City, an important visitor, though the reason for the importance remained indiscernible to her from a mere peek. Morton shielded the thoughts whenever Miri lingered nearby.
    But Miri let slip to other staff that the Councilor anxiously anticipated a visitor. Everyone in the Palace began to keep an eye on the front entrance to catch a first glimpse of the awaited stranger.
    A council aide overheard that an Heir was coming to claim the Protectresship. He babbled this to everyone in the Palace, unable to contain his excitement that soon the Protectress would be with them again.
    Morton frowned realizing the news spread around the staff like a prairie fire, deepening the creases in her already dour face. She reminded herself to keep her mind more shielded.
    The seventh day after the letter arrived, a visitor appeared on the front walkway. From her office window, Nancy found a woman dressed in pale pink being escorted through the front doors of the Palace. She was a petite woman with dark brown curling hair loose about her shoulders.
    For days Nancy had practiced how this first meeting would proceed. She decided she must march into the room with a cool head and skeptical temperament. She would dictate the tests to be performed. She half-expected that the show would quickly fizzle, that the imposter would give up immediately. If not, the Healer stood by to gauge the woman's state of mind and truthfulness. A Prophet would arrive tomorrow to determine the identity of the stranger, one of the Prophets who had last seen Ileanne the child.
    Morton waited impatiently, tapping her foot on the stone floor beneath the window ledge. Frustrated with waiting for notification, she started out the door of her office just as Miri arrived with the news.
    “Councilor Morton, Miss Axandra Korte awaits you in the Library,” the young woman announced, careful not to display her own excitement that the visitor had finally arrived. The server kept her pink-painted lips in a straight line, but her pale blue eyes betrayed her hunger to hear the verdict.
    “Thank you, Miri. Have tea served. I will be with her momentarily.”
    “Yes, Councilor.” Miri bowed and turned from the office, leaving the door open as she left.
    Alone for a moment, Nancy breathed deeply and steeled herself for the task ahead. She very much doubted that the woman could be the lost daughter. The child had undoubtedly perished under the Great Storm. To attempt to pass oneself off as the lost child displayed gross impudence.
    These thoughts set Morton in a sufficiently sour mood, so she headed to the Library on the second floor of the Palace to find out just who this woman thought she was.
    Stepping into the expansive room lined with bookshelves, Nancy first saw the woman's back. She observed a short woman, slender yet curved. A pink dress with one slightly tattered hem flowed over the slight frame down to her knees. Miss Korte wore only light sandals on her feet. An islander. The woman handled a book from one of the shelves and read the first page.
    Looking up as she sensed someone watching her, Axandra Korte turned to the Councilor as the elder woman entered. She drew a somewhat sheepish smile on her sun-kissed face, perhaps already aware of the distrust brewing in her host.
    “Greetings, Miss Korte. Welcome to Undun City,” Morton greeted flatly, making the gesture less of a welcome and more of a formality. “From where did you travel?” Nancy asked curiously.
    “I came from Gammer Island,” replied the young woman without hesitation,