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

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    When she woke again, Axandra found the only people present were Miri and the Healer, whose name she couldn't recall. It was the same woman who performed the examination upon her initial arrival. With sticky eyes, she oriented herself to her location—Morton's office. She lay on the settee.
    “Slowly, Miss,” the Healer instructed. “Eat this.” She gestured Axandra to open her month and inserted a sweet nugget of cone fruit, which melted on her tongue like pure sugar. “Miri tells me you ate very little lunch yesterday, no dinner and no breakfast.”
    “We didn't have time for breakfast this morning,” Axandra defended. The sugar woke up her brain with a buzz.
    “Well, your blood sugar dropped and your brain dropped with it,” the woman explained. “Feeling better?”
    The sugar dissolved to a small sliver. “Yes. Thank you, Healer.” She began to sit up. Her head still ached with each heartbeat. Her sinuses felt dry.
    “Slowly, please. Miri, breakfast immediately. She needs to eat regularly.”
    “Yes, Healer Gray,” Miri disappeared to procure the meal.
    “How long was I out?” Axandra asked as her body began to stabilize and the churning in her stomach settled. She didn't dare move from her seat. Her eyes swam as she tried to focus on the Healer's richly freckled face.
    “Oh, just about fifteen minutes,” the Healer replied, sharing an understanding smile. Healer Gray helped her over to a small table where breakfast was being set and waited while Axandra ate several bites of whole grain bread with creamy butter.
    “And seriously, Miss. Eat when you need to. This will happen again if you don't.”
    “It's never happened before,” Axandra countered, sipping her tea.
    “You've never been under this kind of stress before either, I'll bet,” the Healer inferred.
    “No, I haven't. That's true. This is a lot different than my old life.” Axandra continued to eat, though her stomach did not want her to continue. The organ cramped as more food filled the space.
    “I will check on you later this afternoon,” said the Healer. She packed her small bag and readied to leave. “Miri will keep an eye on you and report to me. Lunch and snacks.”
    “Yes, Healer,” Axandra agreed like a chastised child. She bowed her head in thanks.
    “Take care,” Gray wished, then excused herself, her pouch slung over her shoulder and across her torso.
    Councilor Morton returned to the office, her face expressing annoyance at being evacuated from her space for someone's fainting spell. “It is good to see you feeling better, Miss. You gave us all a start,” she said insincerely, as though fainting were a common occurrence. “The Assistors are gathering in the City Square. They intend to leave shortly. Do you have a message for them?”
    A short speech of encouragement was customary when Assistors left home to aid in calamities. Words from the soon-to-be Protectress needed to be hopeful yet truthful. She paused a moment as she decided just what to say.
    “I wish them speed and success in finding the missing. And I thank them for their service.”
    She felt inadequate, like there should be more to say, more of an explanation of why they were going. She hoped for the best, but feared the worst would come. The missing man most likely committed the ultimate sin against his fellow human.
    Then what? The law supported no punishment for such crime other than detainment. Murder had been erased from their culture. The last murderer, by account, committed suicide out of guilt, punishing himself.
    “I will tell them. We will continue with our training tomorrow. Hopefully we will have news by then.”
    “I hope so, too. Thank you.”
    “Take your time,” Morton offered, though Axandra sensed she really wanted to say Hurry up and get out of here. “I have an appointment with Principal Noel about restoration of the city gates.” With that, the Head of Council left the room again.
    Miri, the young blonde, was