Kara’d been caught crying a few times since arriving on Galis, mostly at night when she thought she was alone and had permitted herself to think about her sister. She could only pray Kyra had moved on in life rather than mourn her. With their parents dead, all they’d had left was each other and Geris—her sister’s best friend since childhood. If there was any consolation to be had, it was in knowing that Kyra would always have Geris by her side.
The High Mystik’s chin notched up. Her violet gaze was simultaneously soft and firm. “I bestow upon you the name Kari,” Klykka announced. “Kari Gy’at Li.”
Chapter Four
Three Moon-risings Outside Khan-Gori Airspace
Zyrus Galaxy, Seventh Dimension
6049 Y.Y. (Yessat Years)
“You’re looking at me as if I just sprouted three heads,” Kari mused, her silver-blue gaze trained on Dari. “Surely out of all the crazy things that go on in Trek Mi Q’an my life story isn’t the craziest.”
“N-not at all,” Dari sputtered. Her glowing blue eyes were wide, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Kari didn’t know what to make of that. “I just…”
“Yeah? You just what?”
“I just need to check on Bazi.” She soared to her feet. “Leastways, ‘tis a lot to take in, your story.”
Kari frowned as she watched the princess walk toward the Arakian boy’s sleeping quarters. Every time Dari got nervous or close to confiding in her, she immediately used Bazi as an excuse to remove herself from the situation. That Kari was used to, but Dari staring at her as if she’d seen a ghost was a new phenomenon altogether.
Three days and three nights—that was all they had left before their gastrolight cruiser breached Khan-Gor’s airspace. And the clock, Kari conceded as she checked the spaceship’s readings, was ticking. In four mere Nuba-hours, three days and three nights would become three days and two nights. Time was of the essence for it was no longer on their side.
“Please finish your story,” the princess said as she came back to the front of the ship. She was carrying a tray of food and matpow—a delicious fermented drink that reminded her of the mead she’d once tried back home at a medieval fair. “I need to hear the whole of it before I speak on this.”
One of Kari’s eyebrows inched up. Dari was hiding something—and that something had nothing to do with the evil that awaited them on Khan-Gor. Kari’s reminiscing had caused the young royal’s face to blanch, which made no sense. She accepted a chalice of matpow from Dari as she studied the princess’ schooled features.
“All right,” Kari slowly agreed. She recognized that no answers would be forthcoming from Dari until she finished her story. “I’ll tell you the rest.”
Hopefully then, at long last, the princess would trust her.
Chapter Five
The Matriarchal Planet of Galis
Trek Mi Q’an Galaxy, Seventh Dimension
6039 Y.Y. (Yessat Years)
Seventeen Yessat Years had gone by since the day Kari emerged from the silver-mirror waters of Loch Valor. She tried not to think about the fact her sister had been dead for hundreds, possibly thousands of years, but every anniversary of her arrival on Galis brought the knowledge and resulting grief to the forefront of her consciousness.
In the seventh dimension of Trek Mi Q’an galaxy, time didn’t function as it did back on Earth. The days were much longer and the months more plentiful. Klykka had tried to do the math once, but because she’d never trekked to the first dimension of time and space where Earth dwelled it was difficult to estimate how many Earth years went by with the passing of a single Yessat Year. “Between ten to one hundred, sister, depending upon the year. ‘Tis the best calculation I can give you for time works differently in each dimension.”
Ten, fifty, one hundred…it really didn’t matter. Any way Kari looked at it, her sister and Geris had been long dead. That fact was not only difficult to grasp, it was also downright depressing.
Had her sister ever married? Did she have children? Had her life been a happy one? These were the questions that plagued Kari whenever she allowed herself to remember, to feel, so she rarely indulged them.
Standing on the maroon shores of Loch Valor, Kari Gy’at Li stared into the waters that had brought her here so many Yessat Years ago. She usually avoided this place like the plague, but today was the anniversary of her departure from Earth. Once a year she made this pilgrimage; once a year she allowed herself to mourn the loss of her former self and the accompanying memories that made up who she had once been.
“I will never forget you, Kyra,” she murmured. “Wherever you are, whatever form your spirit has taken on, I will always love you.” She swiped away a rogue tear. “I miss you so fucking much.” Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Kari forced a smile to her lips. “Tell Geris I’m sorry I wrecked her Mercedes that time I borrowed it. It still bothers me that I blamed it on that poor valet guy.” She shook her head slightly. “I realize the futility of regret, but there it is nonetheless.”
Kari sighed as she took note of her image in the silvery waters. The liquid cast back such an accurate reflection that all Galian mirrors were made from it. Indeed, it was one of the planet’s biggest exports. Today her likeness echoed back a spectacle that even the Gy’at Li couldn’t explain—nobody, or at least nobody in Trek Mi Q’an galaxy, ever aged.
Seventeen Yessat Years had passed and Kari looked no different now than she had upon her arrival. Had she never been brought here and seventeen Earth years had ticked by, her appearance would reflect that of a middle-aged woman rather than a girl in her twenties. Nothing was the same on Galis. Here she was barely considered a woman. Truly, her adoptive sisters treated her much like a child. Given that Klykka and Dorra had both been alive for hundreds of Yessat Years, she supposed she still was by their way of thinking.
“I love you, Kyra,” Kari whispered. She indulged in a final teary moment before batting away the moisture from her eyelashes. “I’ll see you next year, Sis.”
* * * * *
“’Tis a proficient pack-hunter you’ve become,” Klykka told Kari before picking up her chalice and sipping from it. “Leastways, every Yessat Year that passes by makes me prouder of your accomplishments.”
Kari beamed at the rare praise. Finished eating, she grabbed the towelette from the erection closest to her without breaking eye contact with her sister. “Thank you.” She dabbed at her lips, clearing away the remaining juices of the succulent, roasted vesha beast they’d just dined on. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“’Tis true, her words,” Dorra confirmed. “Never did I think you would surpass even myself at bagging and tagging. Leastways, you have.”
Bagging and tagging. Sweet lord above if Kyra could have watched that ritual unfold! Her birth sister’s reaction would have been priceless. The mental image of Kyra’s shocked expression amused her. She picked up her chalice and sipped from it to keep from smiling, not wanting Dorra to think she was making fun of her.
“What amuses you, sister?” Klykka asked.
Kari’s eyes widened. So much for her attempt at camouflage. Deciding to be honest, she told her adoptive sisters what she’d been thinking. It didn’t take long before all three of them were grinning.
“What was courtship and mating like on Earth?” Dorra asked. Her violet gaze perfectly matched the zoka she’d chosen to wear today. “You do not hunt men and men do not hunt women?” Her expression was confused. “How in the sands does anyone ever take a mate to the marriage bed?”
Kari couldn’t help but laugh. She supposed the earthly way of matrimony would seem odd to a people who took whom they wanted by force.
None of the Gy’at Lis had married yet. Klykka and Dorra regularly engaged in sex with all the male servants, but neither had an interest in marrying any time soon. When they were ready, they would pick virgin males from the marriage auction block or pack-hunt their grooms by themselves.
Bagging and tagging was how the female warriors of
the Gy’at Li sector earned credits. Working in teams, they pack-hunted virgin Galian males to sell to prospective mistresses—brides—at the auction block. The bigger and more cunning the male, the more exorbitant his asking price was. Yesterday on the auction block in Valor City, they had sold every single male they’d bagged on their last pack-hunt. The planet’s capital seat, Valor City attracted wealthy female buyers from sectors all across Galis.
Even though the entire ritual was collectively referred to as bagging and tagging, the pack-hunters only did the bagging part, the capturing. The tagging, or branding of one’s mate, was done by the bride herself after she purchased him.
Yes, Kari mused, grinning, Kyra would have pissed her pants from shock watching that shit go down.
“On Earth, some couples are bound to each other without their consent by the bride’s and groom’s parents. We call that an ‘arranged marriage’.”
“Without the bride’s consent?” Dorra asked incredulously.
“Especially without the bride’s consent. The groom may or may not have some say-so in the decision.”
Dorra’s expression was grim. “’Tis a perversion of nature, that.”
“Aye,” Klykka concurred. “They must share the vesha hides with a male not of their choosing?”
Kari nodded. “When I left Earth arranged marriages were only common in certain parts of the planet. There was a time when almost all marriages were arranged, but that was long before I was born.”
“For a certainty would I flee,” Dorra muttered on a grunt. “And slay any who would try to stop me.”
Kari decided now wasn’t the time to explain how lowly women were regarded in certain parts of Earth—or how fleeing nearly always resulted in the female’s death. She’d save that sad tale for another day. Besides, Dorra already looked primed to start a war. “Luckily, most marriages where I’m from are a result of two people falling in love and deciding they want to spend the rest of their lives together.”
Her adoptive sisters stared at her blankly.
“Falling in love is like…” Kari’s smile faltered. Her voice trailed off. “Actually I don’t know what it feels like at all.”
That realization stung more than she could have guessed it would. Having no attraction whatsoever to the men of this world, her last seventeen years of life on Galis had been loveless and sexless. She’d tried more times than she could count to relieve herself with a handsome servant, but the teary-eyed, emotionally fragile and coquettish ways of Galian men was like a proverbial bucket of ice water to the libido. As a result, her sex life consisted of imagination and masturbation. At least in her fantasies, men were men.
Klykka patted Kari on the hand. “Never fear, sister. When the desire to mate for life is upon you, we shall bag and tag the finest male specimen on Galis to make your own.”
If only that knowledge made her feel better instead of worse. “Thank you,” Kari managed. She forced a smile to her lips. “You’re the best adoptive sisters a refugee from Earth could ask for.”
“We should move on in topic,” Klykka announced. “As interesting as your stories of primitive Earth are, I fear we have digressed from the subject at hand.”
Kari blinked. “There was a subject at hand?”
“Aye. Your proficiency as a pack-hunter.”
“Oh right.”
“You have proved yourself an excellent hunter who can be bested by none. Leastways, there is no more need to apprentice under me any longer so—”
“You’re making me leave?” Kari’s heart sank and her stomach lurched. Klykka and Dorra were all she had. The thought of being forced to separate from them was equal parts terrifying and depressing.
“Nay!” Klykka retorted. “Child, I have instructed you more times than I can count not to interrupt my words with every musing that enters your mind. When will you learn?”
She was too relieved to be embarrassed by the admonishment. Thank the goddess, the holy sands, and everything else deemed sacred around here. Her silver-blue eyes shuttered as she blew out a breath. “My apologies, Mistress.”
Klykka nodded, her contrition accepted. “Leastways, you require no more training in the art of hunting so ‘tis time to train you in the art of warring.”
Kari’s eyes widened. The excitement she felt was no doubt obvious, but she tried to school her features anyway. Emotion was not acceptable at all when it came to warring; not even when the emotion in question was a positive one.
“’Tis a certainty you are permitted to show happiness for a moment,” Dorra interjected. Her lips curled up. “Every rule has its exception.”
When Klykka smiled too, Kari let herself grin. “I’ve been waiting for this day for seventeen Yessat Years! Thank you, Klykka!”
The Gy’at Li schooled her features. Dorra and Kari followed suit. “Before ‘tis possible to learn the warring arts,” the High Mystik explained, “one must learn the trade of their sector, and so you have.”
Kari vigorously nodded, eager for her to move on and tell her more.
“One must also learn,” Klykka said, “the erotic arts.”
“I have. You trained me well.” Kari gestured toward the erect penises of the five male servants The Gy’at Li had just purchased. “My spell has not worn off.”
“For a certainty it has not, which is why I am confident ‘tis time to test your skills on the males not of Galis.”
Kari stilled. She hesitantly put a question to Klykka. “Males not of Galis?”
The High Mystik inclined her head. Her violet eyes narrowed, underscoring the seriousness of her command. “’Tis not permissible by Galian law to be taught the final steps in the warring arts until your Mistress is certain you can control males of all breeds by use of the erotic arts alone.”
She wasn’t certain what the connection between the erotic arts and the warring arts could possibly be, but Kari also implicitly understood that Klykka wouldn’t tell her more than she wanted her to know until it was time.
“You will trek alone to the heart of Crystal City, child, and there you will live in the palace that belongs to me. For three moon-months you will work in the tavern frequented by male travelers from all over Trek Mi Q’an galaxy.” Klykka leaned in closer to her. “Including the warriors of Tryston.”
Kari suddenly felt thirsty. She held up her chalice so a male servant could refill it.
The warriors of Tryston? The ones who stole Galian females who were never heard from again?
“I would not send you did I not think you ready,” Klykka said as if reading Kari’s mind. The High Mystik smirked. “Leastways, the fool males will believe you to be naught more than a serving wench who puts on erotic shows for extra credits.”
“Humanoids in general, but especially humanoid males, see what they expect to see,” Dorra intoned. “’Tis not conceivable to their minds that tavern wenches are warriors in training, for in their worlds women serve no purpose but to pleasure men.”
Kari frowned. Clearly Trek Mi Q’an, and Tryston in particular, were in need of some Gloria Steinems. Or some Galians.
She took a large sip of the pici juice her chalice had been replenished with as she marveled at the utter brilliance of Galian females. Not only were they training for war in plain sight, but the boot camp was being financed by the enemy.
“Heed my warning, sister,” Klykka said sternly. “Perform for them, master your ability to control them, but do not ever—not under any circumstance—allow a Trystonni warrior to bed you.”
Or face being kidnapped, possibly murdered, by the horrid males you’ve heard so many frightening stories about…
Klykka’s meaning, unstated, was nevertheless understood. Kari slowly nodded. “I’m ready for the three moon-months to begin whenever you wish for me to go.”
The Gy’at Li’s expression was one of pride. Kari silently vowed to never disappoint her. “You will leave,” Klykka pronounced, “on the morrow.”
Chapter Six
Kari stepped
into the teleport and out into Crystal City. When selling males on the marriage auction block, the Gy’at Lis had always teleported to the capital seat of Valor City where such dealings occurred and where foreigners were never granted access. But in the opulent Crystal City, where humanoids from every planet in Trek Mi Q’an galaxy were permitted to trade with Galians and do all the things tourists do was vastly different. It was, in a word, mesmerizing.
Kari couldn’t help but to gawk at the soaring crystal structures that made the skyscrapers back on Earth look like huts by comparison. Try as she did, she couldn’t see where the buildings ended. It was as if the shimmering towers rose past the moons and disappeared into the heavens. The sight was, without hesitation, the single most wondrous view she’d ever laid eyes on.
She walked down the main path into the metropolis as Klykka had instructed her to, but kept a slow pace so she could sightsee. Humanoid tradesmen of every color and size imaginable lined the street, hawking their wares. Children laughed together as they played, five young Galian boys holding hands and skipping like girls back on Earth would have done. Galian women strolled the bartering stalls with their eager-to-shop husbands, several of them buying trinkets for their men to ooh and aah over.
“Mistress, may I have it?” Kari overheard one husband squeal excitedly to his wife. “Am I worthy of the credits it might cost?”
“Aye, of course, my beloved,” the wife responded. “You submit to me in all things and seek to please me at all times. ‘Tis a boon you are worthy of.”
Kari came to a sudden halt. This was the first time she’d ever seen what became of a Galian man after he was bagged and sold. She wasn’t altogether certain what happened when a male was tagged, but clearly a deep bond was forged. She just wished it was a bond that didn’t make her want to gag.
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