“So…but if your real mother was of the Sun Clan, your real father…”
“Was of the Moon Clan. But we take whatever is the highest standing when we are joined,” Lissa explained. “So if a woman of a higher clan takes a male of a lower clan as her mate, he moves to her home clan, not the other way around.”
“I see—it’s different on Tranq Prime, but that makes sense.” Nadiah nodded. “Go on.”
“The Over Chief had a son.” Lissa looked down at the tabletop, tracing one slender finger in a complicated design on the smooth wooden surface. “A son about four years older than me named Saber. It means ‘Bright Blade of the Sun.’ He had more Touch ability than any male born in generations.”
“But I thought your people—the Touch Kindred—were trying to breed out the uh, Touch ability,” Nadiah said.
“That is what they tell the Kindred Council,” Lissa said. “The truth is, they aren’t seeking to breed out the ability but to breed control into those who have it. Saber had that control. He wasn’t reckless and wild and cruel like so many of the Touch males are. He…he was protective and kind and understanding. Everything a big brother should be. But it wasn’t as a brother that I felt for him. I…” Her voice broke and she shook her head, obviously unable to go on.
“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Nadiah said gently.
“Y-yes,” Lissa whispered and when she looked up, tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “Even though we were of the same clan—of the same household—I still allowed myself to feel for him. You see, he really was raised as my older brother from the time I was twelve and he was sixteen. We were kin in every way that mattered.”
“Except by blood,” Nadiah pointed out.
Lissa swiped at her eyes. “Blood ties are nothing compared to the sacred trust of adoption. By allowing myself to feel for Saber, I dishonored the memory of my parents and spit on the kindness the Over Chief and his wife, my adopted mother, had showed me. I knew these things as I was falling in love with Saber and yet, somehow I could not stop myself…”
“I bet it wasn’t a one way street,” Nadiah said. “I’m guessing he felt the same way about you.”
“He did.” Lissa nodded. “Though he waited until I was eighteen cycles old and of age to admit it to me. He said…” She laughed brokenly. “He said he wanted our joining to be legal in at least one way even if it was completely taboo in every other way.”
“So you were going to run away together?” Nadiah lifted her eyebrows. “That’s very brave. I ran away from Y’dex too, you know. My parents wanted me to marry him but I just couldn’t—he was everything I loathed about Tranq Prime all rolled up in one nasty package.” She shivered, remembering Y’dex’s bulging blue eyes and the horrible way he’d treated her.
“Then you were much more courageous than I was,” Lissa said in a low voice. “When Saber declared his love to me, I was indecisive—fearful of the consequences and ashamed—deeply ashamed both of my own feelings and the feelings I had somehow inspired in him.”
“Is the taboo really that strong?” Nadiah asked, frowning. “I mean, I know you were living in the same family but you were both older than children when you met and as you said, he was protective and kind to you at a time when you had just suffered a great loss. It’s not so surprising that you should come to love him.”
“Yes, it is,” Lissa said grimly. “Do you have any brothers—true brothers—my Lady?”
Nadiah shook her head. “The closest I have is Sylvan—he’s my older cousin.”
“And what if you were to fall in love with him?” Lissa asked in a quiet voice. “So much so that you wished to be joined to him, to receive the Deep Touch from him and bear his children?”
“Eww!” Nadiah wrinkled her nose involuntarily. “I mean, please don’t misunderstand me, I love Sylvan very much but not that way.”
Lissa nodded. “Your instinctive reaction is right and proper—and would be considered so by my people as well. Now take that reaction—that feeling of instinctive revulsion you felt at the idea of joining with your cousin—and multiply it by ten. That is the emotion we of the Touch Kindred have been taught to feel about the idea of mating with one of our own clan. Add to that the fact that the male I wanted was of the same household—in name and deed my actual older brother—and you can multiply it by a hundred, maybe even a thousand. There is no word strong enough for the wrongness Saber and I committed together.”
“Oh my,” Nadiah breathed, finally understanding. “You’d be social pariahs—outcasts if anyone found out.”
“And someone did,” Lissa said grimly. “Saber begged for the chance to prove his love, to prove to me that we belonged together. And I…I agreed. And so it was that my adopted mother came upon us in the woods when Saber was Touching me.”
“Touching you?” Nadiah frowned. “How? Was he stroking your cheek or were you kissing or…or doing something else?”
Lissa recoiled as though Nadiah had struck her. “He wasn’t touching me physically with his hands or mouth!” She sounded shocked and horrified. “Though we had admitted our love, even then we were not so shameless as to physically touch each other. Not that way, anyway. Not…not sexually,” she ended in a low, embarrassed voice.
“What way then?” Nadiah asked, mystified.
“With his mind of course,” Lissa said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You see, when people of the same clan Touch each other intimately with their minds it feels wrong. The same way physically kissing or touching one of your close male relatives romantically would feel wrong to you.” She sighed. “Saber wanted to prove to me that it wouldn’t feel wrong between us. That his mental Touch on my body would give me pleasure, not revulsion.”
“How did it feel?” Nadiah asked, completely caught up in the story now. “Did it feel wrong? Or right?”
Lissa frowned. “It felt…forbidden. Like it was something we ought not to do. But so…so pleasurable, I can scarcely describe it.” She shivered as though reliving some exotic sensation. “I can still feel his whisper-fingers sliding through my hair—I was the only Kindred female in our clan and everyone else made fun of it, you know. They said my green stripes made me look like a tseeba—an ugly little animal with stripes down its back. But Saber, he told me not to pay any attention to them. He thought my hair was beautiful.”
“So your adopted mother caught him touching your hair with his mind?” To Nadiah, it still sounded extremely innocent.
Lissa blushed a dull red. “He…he kissed me too. Not with his mouth, of course. But his whisper-lips were so soft, so gentle…”
“How did your adopted mother even know what was happening?” Nadiah asked. “I mean, if you were both just standing there, not even physically in contact…”
“You can tell when two of my people are Touching each other,” Lissa said grimly. “The Touch Field around them extends quite far. It…it excites anyone in the immediate vicinity.”
“Like a mental aphrodisiac.” Nadiah shook her head. “Amazing.”
“And very telling,” Lissa said sadly. “So you see, there was no way to disguise what we were doing even though we were standing three feet apart at least.”
“What did she do?” Nadiah asked, although she already had an idea.
“She was livid, of course.” Lissa cringed with what was obviously a very painful memory. “She said I had corrupted her son, that he never would have done such a thing if I hadn’t tempted him. Saber tried to defend me but she said his protectiveness was just another symptom of the spell I had cast on him. She…” Lissa swallowed hard, as though forcing herself to continue. “She said I might as well spit on my parents’ graves—that the dishonor I had done them was so great it was unforgivable.”
“Oh, Lissa…” Nadiah squeezed the other girl’s hand in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. So I guess that was when she decided to send you to First World to be a priestess?”
Lissa nodded. “Had we been caught in
a physical embrace or—Goddess forbid—if I had allowed Saber to give me the Deep Touch…” she blushed with embarrassment at the words. “Well, I don’t even know if that would have been possible between us, but had we even tried, we would both have been stoned to death. However, since the Touch Saber gave me was slight and nonphysical, my adopted mother chose to conceal the matter and simply separate us.”
“Thank the Goddess you weren’t stoned,” Nadiah exclaimed. “How barbaric!”
“Yes, I was granted life though I deserved death. But sometimes I wonder if death might not have been kinder.” Lissa looked troubled. “You see, before she sent me to First World, she made me renounce Saber.”
“Renounce him? What does that mean exactly to your people?”
Lissa hung her head. “I had to tell him I didn’t love him anymore. Say that I never wanted to see him again. I swore a formal oath that I would never be his. And oh, my Lady…” She looked up at Nadiah. “When I said those words and saw the light of his love for me dying in his eyes…then I wanted to die too. I hurt him…hurt him so badly because it was the only way to keep him from me. To keep his mother from exposing what had happened between us.”
“She blackmailed you,” Nadiah said indignantly.
Lissa nodded. “Yes. She said that even though he was her son and she loved him, she would expose him to the entire clan if he didn’t renounce me. Saber…he was braver than I. He refused to say the formal words or take the oath never to see me again. But I feared for him—for his future. He is to be the next ruler of our people, just as Challa Rast is the Councilor of the First Kindred. All that would be lost if anyone knew of our shame.”
“So you lied to him to keep him away. To keep from hurting him or spoiling his future,” Nadiah said softly.
Lissa nodded again. “Yes, I could see no other way.” She sighed. “It has been three long cycles since our separation and Saber is doubtless joined to another girl from a different clan. I am certain he never even thinks of me anymore. But I…I cannot stop thinking of him. Cannot stop loving him, wanting him. And wondering what might have happened if I had agreed to run away with him when he first asked me.”
“Would you have joined with him?” Nadiah asked gently. “Would you have agreed to be his mate and the mother of his children?”
Lissa shook her head. “I can't say. I don’t know if we could have overcome the injection of kinship compound we both received as infants. And even if we could, I don't know if the shame I felt—that I still feel—would ever have allowed me to take the Deep Touch from him.” She blushed again. “But Saber said he loved me so much he was willing to forgo a physical relationship. He said that if all we ever did was Touch with our minds, it would be enough for him.”
“That’s amazing,” Nadiah said honestly. “He must really have loved you. Most males want a physical relationship above all else—at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“I know,” Lissa whispered. “Though I am daily grateful I never had one with Saber. The shame of such a memory would have been too great to bear and I would have been forced to end my life.”
“Surely not,” Nadiah objected. “Don’t even talk that way.”
Lissa looked at her earnestly. “But it’s how I feel—how I was taught to believe. I can’t help the way I was raised, my Lady.”
“Call me Nadiah. And I’m sorry that your upbringing has given you such overwhelming guilt.” She squeezed Lissa’s hand again. “But I still don’t think it makes you unfit to be the high priestess.”
“But it does,” Lissa protested. “Because I still have those feelings for Saber. Even though I know I’ll never see him again, I still think of the way he Touched me. I still…still want him.”
“Well, no matter what, you’re still not related to him by blood,” Nadiah said firmly. “I understand your people’s taboo, Lissa, but I want you to know I don’t think any less of you for what you’ve gone through or how you feel.”
“Truly? You don’t?” Lissa began to cry again but this time, Nadiah thought, with relief. “Oh, thank you, my Lady. Thank you…Nadiah.”
“You’re welcome, Lissa.” Nadiah lifted the other girl’s chin and looked into her lovely jade eyes. “The Goddess doesn’t call us to be perfect, you know,” she said softly. “Only to strive to live in her light and show her kindness and love to the universe. You do that very well, I think.” She smiled. “Certainly better than the old high priestess, what’s-her-name…”
“Minverna,” Lissa said. “Her name is Minverna.”
“Oh, right.” Nadiah nodded. “You know, I haven’t seen her around lately. Is she still sulking in her new quarters?”
“You mean the novice quarters?” Lissa allowed herself the ghost of a smile and Nadiah was sure she hadn’t been fond of the overbearing ex-high priestess either. “Yes, she’s been keeping the door shut and only coming out late at night when no one’s around.”
“That has to stop,” Nadiah said frowning. “She’s had long enough to lick her wounds and I don’t like the idea of her sneaking around the temple at night when no one else is up and around to keep an eye on her.” The old high priestess had been power hungry in the extreme and Nadiah wouldn’t put it past her to try some kind of sabotage in order to get revenge on herself and Rast for her new, lowly position.
“I will look in on her this very night,” Lissa promised dutifully. “Forgive me for not doing so before. It is…difficult to assert my authority over one who has always been so much more powerful than me.”
“Of course it is,” Nadiah said comfortingly. “If you want, I’ll have Rast go with you. Old Minverna won’t dare to mess with him—not after what happened last time she tried.”
Lissa smiled again, a little broader this time. “Thank you, my L…Nadiah, but I think I can handle it. Without her Goddess-given power she is just an old woman. An angry and unhappy one, but just an old woman all the same.”
“All right then.” Nadiah smiled at her. “I’m so glad we had this talk. I’ve felt from the first moment I saw you that we would be friends if we could just get to know each other.”
“Friends?” Lissa’s jade green eyes went round with surprise. “The Lysell would think of me as a friend?”
“Of course I would.” Nadiah laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re sweet and earnest and loyal and kind—of course I want you for a friend.” She grew suddenly shy. “But…I’m not sure. If you don’t feel the same way…”
“Of course I do!” Lissa grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’ve felt so alone since I came here,” she said in a quiet, intense voice. “So cut off from everyone else, even the other priestesses, because I couldn’t tell anyone my secret. But with you…now you know. And…and you truly don’t hate me for it?”
“Of course not.” Nadiah laughed. “Not a bit. And Lissa,” she said, growing more serious. “I think you should forgive yourself for your feelings. They may seem unnatural to you, but I promise you that most of the people in the universe would think differently.” She sighed. “Of course, I know we all have our own hang-ups—”
“Hang-ups?” Lissa frowned.
“Oh, it’s an Earth word I got from my good friend Sophie,” Nadiah explained. “It means we all have certain things that bother us, that we get caught or hung up on and can’t get past. But—”
“My Lady? My Lady!” One of the few male temple guards suddenly rushed into the library, his face red from exertion. “Oh, my Lady,” he gasped, nodding at Nadiah. “My Lord the Challa thought I might find you here.”
Nadiah was instantly on the alert. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“A…a ship has been found,” the guard explained, still gasping a little for breath. “It crash landed in the desert outside the holy mountain.”
“What kind of ship?” Nadiah went suddenly cold. “Does it belong to one of the Hoard?” The Hoard were an ancient Kindred enemy which had recently resurfaced and now threatened everything her people held dear. r />
“No, my Lady.” The guard shook his head. “The ship is not of that cursed origin. It is the occupant which must concern you. He was badly injured in the crash. But he keeps calling…”
“Calling what?” Nadiah asked impatiently, when he didn’t finish his sentence. “Calling for who?”
“Calling for you, my Lady.” The temple guard looked grave. “He has been calling with his dying breath for you.”
Nadiah rushed down to the lower levels of the holy mountain with the winded guard leading the way as fast as he could. The infirmary was located not far from the temple kitchens where the special memory bread was baked and she got there less than ten minutes after the guard had come for her.
The first thing she saw upon opening the heavy stone door was her new husband, Rast, leaning over a cot containing a limp figure. She tried to see who it was but Rast’s broad shoulders blocked her way even though his wings were currently furled tight and folded against his body.
“Rast?” She said, coming into the room quickly. “Rast, who—?”
“Nadiah.” He got up, still blocking her view—deliberately Nadiah thought—and came toward her with his hands out.
“Rast, what’s going on? Who is that?” she demanded, trying to look around him.
“Someone you know—that both of us know, unfortunately.” Rast took her by the shoulders and held her eyes with his. “Brace yourself—it’s not a pretty sight.”
“But who is it?” Nadiah’s heart was pounding with fear. Not waiting for her husband’s reply, she twisted out of his grip and ran to the cot…only to stop short. “Y’dex?” she whispered, looking at her ex-fiancé in horror. “Is…is that you?”
It was a fair question. The old Y’dex had been straight and slender and proud, had moved with an insolent grace that spoke volumes about his arrogance before he even opened his mouth. But this thing lying in the cot…it was most horribly burned and blackened. Its skin was charred and cracked, pealing away in strips to reveal raw red meat underneath. Its legs were crooked, obviously broken in several places and no hair remained on its bald, smoldering head except for a single white-blond tuft over one melted ear.