“We’re ready,” he answered for all of them.
“Are you?” Lissa looked at his shoulders and frowned.
Rast frowned back. “I know what you’re thinking but sorry, no wings yet. My back itches like hell but so far not so much as a single feather.” He felt a touch of anxiety. “They should come out during the ceremony, right?”
“Certainly. Of course.” Lissa nodded but Rast thought there was a troubled look on her face. “Come,” she said, beckoning them. “I must lead you a different way this time—up to the high mesa.”
* * * * *
Nadiah allowed herself to be carried until they reached the bottom of the mesa. But when she saw the narrow stone steps cut into the side of the rock, winding higher and higher around the vast natural stone structure, she begged Rast to put her down.
“There are too many steps,” he objected, frowning. “You can’t possible climb all the way up there, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I can.” Nadiah lifted her chin, and looked at him defiantly. “Because I have to. It’s too narrow, Rast. You can’t carry me—not without both of us falling.” She shivered at the thought. She had always hated heights and the towering mesa was higher than anything she’d ever been on.
Rast sighed. “It is narrow. Too bad they’re no guardrail for safety.”
“Forgive the crudeness of the steps,” Lissa murmured, coming up behind them. “The mesa has not been used regularly for hundreds of years. And even when it was, the steps were not the way most used to get to the top.”
“What, you’ve got an elevator around here?” Rast asked. “Because that would be nice.”
She frowned. “I refer, of course, to the fact that the Counselor usually flew to the top of the high mesa and took his Lyzel with him. But what is this ‘elivador’ you speak of?”
“Oh,” Sophia jumped in. “It’s a sort of box with cables on the top that runs up and down between floors in a tall building. You press the button for the floor you want and it stops there and you get out. It’s much faster than climbing the stairs.”
Lissa looked thoughtful. “I have no ‘elivador’ as you call it, but I might be able to make something like it. Tell me,” she said, looking at Nadiah. “Would you trust my powers to raise you to the top of the mesa? I have never reached so far myself but I am certain I could do it.”
Nadiah took another look at the narrow, crumbling steps that wound around the steep face of the stone wall. She imagined herself clinging to the wall like an insect, inching her way up, step by step, while the hot desert wind gusted through her hair, trying to pull her back down to the sandy rainbow floor. No—I can’t do that. It’s too much, too high. She nodded gratefully at the young priestess. “Of course I trust you. Thank you, Lissa. Thank you with all my heart.”
The young priestess blushed with pride. “You are welcome—it is my pleasure and privilege to serve you. Would you please all group yourselves together?”
Sophia and Sylvan came up behind them and Rast picked up Nadiah again, over her protests. “Forget it,” he murmured, under his breath. “If we’re going a thousand feet straight up into the air on a platform of moving sand, I’m keeping you close.”
Nadiah gave up without much of a fight. To be honest, she was glad he insisted on holding her. Being able to close her eyes and put her head on his shoulder greatly mitigated her crippling fear of heights.
“Get ready,” Lissa said quietly and then the sand firmed under them as it had before and slowly began to rise.
“Wow,” Nadiah heard Rast murmur. “This view is amazing.”
A quick peek showed that he was right—it was amazing the way they were slowly lifting up into the clear blue sky and leaving the multicolored desert below them. Amazing and extremely frightening. Quickly she shut her eyes again and buried her face in Rast’s shoulder.
“You will get used to such sights quickly when you soar above the clouds,” Lissa said softly.
“You mean when my wings, finally sprout.” Rast sighed. “God, I can’t believe I just said that. Somebody call the loony bin and reserve me a room.”
“The wings are no joke, Rast,” Sylvan said from behind them. “According to legend, they’re made of the same corporeal material as the Goddess herself—they are a part of her, grafted onto her most trusted servant, if you will.”
Rast sighed again. “Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“If you will forgive me for saying so, you do not sound very happy about the idea of gaining your wings or living here on First World,” Lissa murmured. “Perhaps our planet does not seem beautiful to you?”
“Oh no, it’s lovely,” Sophia protested politely. “It’s just, well…I don’t think Rast expected to have to stay here, you know, forever. Not that he doesn’t want to,” she added hastily. “He and Nadiah both, I’m sure they’ll be happy once…once they get used to it…” She trailed off and Nadiah was positive she was blushing—though she wasn’t about to open her eyes and make sure.
“I am certain they will be very happy,” Lissa said quietly. “It does take some getting used to. I myself am not native to this world. I came—was forced to come—to join the priestesshood here, though I didn’t want to. You could almost say I was exiled to First World, just as you and your female are, Counselor .” She nodded at Rast.
“Oh really?” Rast sounded interested. “And where did you come from?”
“My parents were part of the Tarsian trade,” Lissa answered. “My father was a First Kindred and my mother was a female of Tarsia. It was she who decided I should come back to my father’s home planet and dedicate my life to the service of the Goddess.”
“Was there no one to speak for you?” Sylvan asked. “No one to protest your exile?”
My…” Lissa paused slightly. “My…forgive me, I’m not certain what word you would use but for the purposes of my planet it was my older brother. He spoke for me but he was overruled.”
“I have heard of that trade,” Sylvan said. “But I thought most of the Council was against it—they said there weren’t enough of your people yet to make a good genetic base.”
“So they did.” Lissa nodded. “But a few Kindred warriors defied them and came to us anyway.”
“What does it matter how many people there are?” Sophia asked.
Lissa’s voice dropped. “I think the Council feared there would be…inbreeding. And given the particular abilities of my people, any genetic flaws that resulted would be…dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Sophia asked. “Dangerous how?”
The young priestess sighed and Nadiah thought she sounded terribly sad. “My people are…different. The male warriors that result from the trade are not well accepted among the other, established Kindred races.”
“I didn’t even know there was a whole other branch of the Kindred. Why aren’t they accepted?” Sophia said.
Sylvan cleared his throat. “The Tarsian Kindred have certain…powers. They are called the Touch Kindred by the rest of us.”
“The Touch Kindred? Why?” Sophia wanted to know. Nadiah wanted to know too, so she was glad her friend was asking. All the rumors she’d heard about the Touch Kindred were ominous and a little frightening but she’d never actually met one before.
“The male warriors of my kind have the ability to manipulate things outside themselves in the way I manipulate and use the sand,” Lissa said hesitantly.
“Oh, like telekinesis,” Rast said. “I’ve had as much as I want of that shit.” Nadiah felt him shudder and knew he was remembering the challenge of wills where he’d been forced to eat a mud worm.
“In a way,” Lissa admitted. “But their powers are more… internal.”
“Using their mental powers, they are able to ‘touch’ or manipulate the body of another. Specifically, they can ‘touch’ a female they want,” Sylvan said, taking over when it became obvious the young priestess was too embarrassed to continue.
“Exactly,” Lissa murmured and Nadiah co
uld hear the shame in her voice.
“But…why is that a bad thing?” Sophia sounded confused. “It sounds like once they meet the woman they want to bond with, it would be, well, amazing.”
“Their talents wouldn’t be a problem if the Touch Kindred didn’t have such unpredictable temperaments,” Sylvan said. “But they tend to be volatile and erratic in the extreme. I’m afraid their abilities are not always used in the appropriate manner. For which the Council has banned them from the Mother Ship.”
“That was one reason my mother insisted I come here,” Lissa said. “She said she wanted a more stable life for me than the one she’d had.” She laughed and it sounded very bitter to Nadiah. “You must admit, we have an abundance of stability out here in the deserts of First World.”
“That you do,” Rast murmured and Nadiah felt him shift from foot to foot restlessly.
“But…is there no hope for your people then?” Sophia sounded sorry for Lissa. “No way they’ll ever be accepted by the other Kindred?”
“They are trying,” the young priestess said. “Our population is quite large now and the rules which regulate who one may be joined with are quite strict.”
“My understanding was that they were positively draconian,” Sylvan murmured. “Is it true that you aren’t allowed to be bonded to a person within your own clan?”
“Yes,” Lissa murmured. “We must seek a mate outside our clan family. Even if there is no blood relation, a relationship between members of the same clan is considered disgusting and unthinkable. Completely taboo.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Sophia protested. “That’s like saying you can’t marry anyone from your home town just because you happen to live in the same place.”
“It is the way of my people,” Lissa said simply. “Or it was when I was one of them. Now I am simply a priestess and I have no more contact with my clan or…” She choked slightly. “Or anyone who is in it.”
Despite what was happening in her own life, Nadiah couldn’t help hearing the hurt in the other girl’s voice. She’d make a good friend, she thought to herself as they rose slowly through the air. I’ll have to remember that when all this is over. Maybe I can give her a zan-daro—what Sophia calls a ‘make-over’ and cheer her up. If they let priestesses have make-overs that is…
“Hey, looks like the elevator is almost at the top floor,” Rast said, sounding worried. “Guess we’d better go get this over with.”
At that, Nadiah dared to open her eyes again. She was treated to the dizzying sight of the multicolored desert floor hundreds of feet down below her as they hovered, seemingly in mid air on a paper thin layer of sand. With a gasp, she closed her eyes again and pressed her face to Rast’s neck. Breathing in his dark, spicy scent made her feel a little better but she would still be glad once they were back on solid ground.
“Yes, here we are,” Lissa said. “Thank you for trusting my abilities. I am sorry the journey took so long.”
“Not at all,” Sophia assured her as they all left the sand and stepped onto the mesa. “You should be in an elevator when some kid has pressed all the buttons and it stops on every floor! The ride you gave us was much smoother than that.”
They all murmured their thanks and then Rast whispered to Nadiah, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can look now.”
Nadiah opened her eyes and saw that the top of the mesa was covered in low maroon grass and blue bushes. The bushes formed a ring around the outside edge of the mesa though she thought they served more as a warning than a barrier. They weren’t tall enough or thick enough to actually stop anyone from falling off.
At the far end there was some higher vegetation—two of the familiar purple and green trees Nadiah remembered from the sacred grove—grew close together, forming a kind of backdrop for the high priestess who was standing in front of them. She was frowning already—apparently she didn’t approve of the way they’d reached the top. She probably wanted us to crawl up the steps on our hands and knees, Nadiah felt a rush of shame for the uncharitable thought but there was no denying that the high priestess had wronged her greatly. Considering the fact that she’d given Nadiah a deadly fever and was forcing the male she loved to stay in on First World the rest of his life, it seemed Nadiah could be forgiven a few snarky thoughts.
“Well, here we go,” Rast murmured, looking down at her. “Are you ready?”
“As long as you are,” Nadiah whispered. But she couldn’t help feeling that something was wrong. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but something, somewhere was out of place. No, not something—someone, she thought. But how could that be? Besides themselves, the only people on the mesa were the high priestess and four of the other, lower priestesses including Lissa. So how—
“Come forward, supplicants.” The high priestess’s voice rang out, breaking Nadiah’s train of thought. “Come forward and meet your fate.”
* * * * *
Rast didn’t like the whole ‘meet your fate’ thing—it sounded way too ominous considering the oath he was about to take. Still, there was nothing else to do but go forward. Nadiah asked to be put down and he set her gently on her feet but kept hold of her hand in case she tripped over the long maroon grass. Her growing weakness worried the hell out of him and he wondered how much longer it would be before the fever came back full force and carried her away.
No, can’t think like that! he told himself sternly. That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it happen! Unfortunately, the only way he could stop it was to suddenly sprout wings. And even though his shoulder blades itched like crazy and everyone else seemed to think it was perfectly possible, there was still a corner of Rast’s mind that doubted. Still a part that asked, seriously, they expect me to fly?
He was a practical, driven man who had never been into any kind of science fiction or fantasy. Now he found himself right in the middle of the kind of scenario he would have scoffed at if he’d seen it in a movie or read it in a book. Here he was—the long lost son of a planetary ruler who had died a thousand years ago in a conflict with creatures so evil Rast couldn’t even imagine them. And now he was coming back to claim his rightful throne and prove himself worthy of ruling by growing wings and flying all over the place. To Rast it seemed like a dream—or some ridiculous mindfuck. It was just too damn hard to believe. But I have to believe, he told himself grimly. If I don’t, if I can’t do this…
He looked over at Nadiah and couldn’t finish his thought. She looked so frail and the dark circles around her eyes were like rings of bruises. Knowing that she wanted to walk to the priestess herself, Rast resisted the urge to pick her up again. But, God, all he wanted was to hold her close, to keep her from slipping through his fingers. To make her well, to make everything all right. Please, he thought, uncertain of who he was praying to but praying all the same. Please help me heal her. I love her so much! That has to count for something…
“Come no closer.” The priestess held out a hand and they came to a stop about ten yards from her. Behind her, the two sacred trees rustled their thick branches in the high desert breeze.
Rast frowned as the warm wind blew his hair back from his forehead. What’s that smell? Something familiar… familiar and unpleasant…Who…?
“We are gathered here today,” the high priestess intoned, breaking his train of thought. “Gathered to bear witness to the oath of a new Counselor. The first Counselor that First World has had in a thousand years.”
At this, the row of priestesses to her left hummed softly, as though in musical agreement. Rast wondered if that was part of the ceremony and supposed it probably was. It reminded him of a bumper sticker he’d seen once which said, The problem with real life is, it doesn’t have any background music.
Suddenly he realized that the high priestess was speaking to him and he’d missed it. To his relief, she beckoned to him and he simply stepped forward, bringing Nadiah with him.
“No, Challa,” the high priestess frowned. “Did you not hear me? I to
ld you to come forward alone.”
“Uh, sorry.” Rast dropped Nadiah’s hand but before he did, he looked back and gave Sylvan a significant look.
Understanding crossed the Blood Kindred’s face and he and Sophia stepped forward as one, standing on either side of Nadiah to support her frail frame.
“Are you ready now?” The high priestess sounded impatient.
“Yes.” Rast lifted his chin. “Yes, I’m ready,” he repeated loudly.
“Very well. Then repeat after me. I, Adam Rast, being of the true blood of Counselor Kall of the First Kindred, do solemnly swear and avow before the Goddess and all her creation that I will protect First World.”
Rast repeated the words and thought he was done but there was more—much more.
The priestess continued, “I will guard it, guide it and through the use of the Seat of Wisdom and the Eye of Foreknowledge, I will attempt to keep it and all of its habitants safe from harm or terror.”
Dutifully, Rast repeated but the oath still wasn’t over.
“I will choose a proper Lysell to help me bear these burdens and a fitting mate to bear me sons, that the blood of the Counselor of the First Kindred shall never die out. And…” The priestess gave him a significant look. “I shall nevermore leave but make First World my one and only home.”
The words seemed to stick in Rast’s throat but somehow he got them out. He felt a rush of anger at the priestess who was forcing him into this. After all, if she hadn’t made Nadiah sick he would have had a choice. And though he didn’t mind visiting his planet of origin, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen to live here. Especially knowing he was supposed to rule over the whole thing—although from what he could see of the desert, there wasn’t a whole lot to rule over.
The first thing I’m going to do when this is over is get Nadiah out of here, he vowed to himself. We’ll take a tour of the whole damn planet—anything to get away from this desert. I may have to stay on First World but I’ll be damned if I spend one minute more than I have to with the green eyed monster over there.
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