CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Volusia stood before the open gates of the capital, palms held out uselessly before her, and watched, horrified, as the Knights of the Seven bore down on her, hardly fifty yards away. It was death, staring her in the face, galloping toward her, and she felt it coming with certainty. Finally, she was about to die.
But that was not what horrified her most. What filled her with a sense of cold dread, even more painful than the death to come, was her sudden realization. Was she not, after all, a goddess? She could not understand. She had tried to summon her powers and had failed. Why had the world not answered her?
Unless, Volusia realized, a pit in her stomach, it had all been a lie, one grand delusion. What if she was no goddess, after all? What if she were a mere morta
