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

still on, long after the owner typically went to bed.
    They did not know who or what caused his death. The villagers were frightened to be vulnerable inside the assumed safety of their homes.
    Along with this report, delivered in person to Axandra, Councilor Morton and three other councilors, came word that one of the villagers of the community remained unaccounted for.
    “He was last seen by the Day Watcher 'round six o'clock yester evening. He lives alone, so nobody sent word out he was missing 'til late this morning when he didn't show up at the canning kitchen,” the Night Watcher stated. He appeared visibly exhausted and shaken by the incident. A tall man with thick upper arms, he stood before them in Morton's office, clutching his round cap in his hands. He could easily overpower another man or perhaps even a charging antelope, yet he stood before them white-faced and terrified. He had not rested since seeing the body.
    “We grieve with you for your loss,” Morton said when the report ended. The Watcher sighed, struggling with sleeplessness and sorrow. “Please take rest here in the Palace. We will send assistance to your village immediately to find the missing man.”
    “Thank you, Councilor, and thank you, Protectress. We are very happy to have you with us again.” But he said this without happiness, for he could feel none.
    Axandra bowed in his direction. “I wish you a comfortable rest. The Assistors will work as quickly as they can.” She sent out her sympathy to him. Just the sound of her voice seemed to ease his distress. One of the Elite escorted him from the office.
    “I will go with the Assistors,” said Antonette Lelle as she stepped forward before the small gathering. “These are my people.”
    “As you wish, Ms. Lelle. We await your return.”
    The councilor left immediately to gather the Assistor team.
    The tension in the room escalated since the beginning of the report. The others let their imaginations get the better of them.
    “Very strange circumstances,” voiced Casper Ross, opening the air for discussion.
    “Surely this was some sort of accident,” Nancy purported, unwilling to accept the worst possible scenario, the one not yet voiced.
    Axandra felt lightheaded. She tried to listen as the councilors spoke, deciding for the moment that she would only listen. Her midnight dreaming had not revealed any more information than the Watcher's report gave them. She eased into a seat, signaling the councilors to follow suit, and reached for a nearby glass of water.
    “I've never heard of anything like this,” said Sara Sunsun in disbelief. “No one on this planet has been…
murdered
,” she whispered the atrocious word, “by another human since—since ought-six, at the end of the New World Conflict.” Sara's eyes glistened with moisture as she glanced upward toward the ceiling. One hand moved to cover her lips and hide a quiver.
    The transplanted humans long ago discarded acts of brutality such as murder. The appointment of the first Protectress and her endorsement of the Prophets established peace centuries ago. Without peace, this planet would become like the world they left behind—disordered and destroyed.
    Blood pounded in Axandra's temples. Her stomach cramped. Blinking rapidly, she attempted to remain alert.
    “Now, now,” Morton soothed. “There is no proof that it is murder. We still cannot rule out other causes. The man may have done this to himself.”
    The Goddess pulled at Axandra's mind, pulling her down and away from the present, pulling her into yesterday, when she had followed Sara Sunsun through the basement and observed the staff taking inventory of food, paper, toiletries and various sundries stored in the Holds. A sick feeling welled up in her stomach as she was pulled back. She leaned more deeply into the chair.
    Stop it,
she begged, trying to focus. It kept drawing her back in time. The last few days flashed by in reverse.
    Then the world went