A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Page B

of
the Empire, and had murdered his contingent of soldiers. Her people were one
with her, and they felt emboldened when she felt emboldened, and she had never
felt stronger in her life—not since the day she’d murdered her mother.
    Volusia looked up at her magnificent city, at
the two towering pillars leading into it, shining gold and green in the sun;
she took in the endless array of ancient buildings erected in her ancestors’ time,
hundreds of years old, well worn. The shining, immaculate streets were bustling
with thousands of people, guards on every corner, the precise waterways cut
through them in perfect angles, connecting everything. There were small
footbridges on which could be seen horses clomping, bearing golden carriages,
people dressed in their finest silks and jewels. The entire city had declared a
holiday, and all had come out to greet her, all calling her name on this holy day.
She was more than a leader to them—she was a goddess.
    It was even more auspicious that this day
should coincide with a festival, the Day of Lights, the day in which they bowed
to the seven gods of the sun. Volusia, as leader of the city, was always the one
to initiate the festivities, and as she sailed through, the two immense golden
torches burned brightly behind her, brighter than the day, ready to light the
Grand Fountain.
    All the people followed her, hurrying along the
streets, chasing after her boat; she knew they would accompany her all the way,
until she reached the center of the six circles of the city, where she would
disembark and set fire to the fountains that would mark the day’s holiday and sacrifices.
It was a glorious day for her city and her people, a day to praise the fourteen
gods, the ones that were rumored to circle her city, to guard the fourteen
entrances against all unwanted invaders. Her people prayed to all of them, and
today, as on all days, thanks was due.
    This year, her people would be in for a
surprise: Volusia had added a fifteenth god, the first time in centuries, since
the found of the city, that a god had been added. And that god was herself.
Volusia had erected a towering golden statue of herself in the center of the seven
circles, and she had declared this day her name day, her holiday. As it was
unveiled, all her people would see it for the first time, would see that she, Volusia,
was more than her mother, more than a leader, more than a mere human. She was a
goddess, who deserved to be worshipped every day. They would pray and bow down to
her along with all the others—they would do it, or she would have their blood.
    Volusia smiled to herself as her boat drifted
ever closer to the city center. She could hardly wait to see their expressions,
to have them all worship her just as the other fourteen gods. They did not know
it yet, but one day, she would destroy the other gods, one by one, until all
that was left was her.
    Volusia, excited, checked back over her
shoulder and she saw behind her an endless array of vessels following, all
carrying live bulls and goats and rams, shifting and noisy in the sun, all in
preparation of the day’s sacrifice to the gods. She would slaughter the biggest
and best one before her own statue.
    Volusia’s boat finally reached the open
waterway to the seven golden circles, each one wider than the next, wide golden
plazas that were separated by rings of water. Her boat made its way slowly
through the circles, ever closer towards the center, passing each of the
fourteen gods, and her heart pounded in excitement. Each god towered over them
as they went, each statue gleaming gold, twenty feet high. In the very center
of all this, in the plaza that had always been kept empty for sacrifice and
congregation, there now stood a newly constructed golden pedestal, atop of
which was a fifty-foot structure covered in a white silk cloth. Volusia smiled:
she alone of all her people knew what lay beneath that cloth.
    Volusia disembarked, her servants rushing
forward to help