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  Without even asking, Rast knew Nadiah couldn’t manage the steps—there were just too many of them and she was much too weak. Though she was trying to put a brave face on things and acting like she was feeling better, he could see the truth. The bruised looking circles under her dark blue eyes and the drawn look on her face let him know that she wasn’t well. And she wouldn’t be well unless he could somehow force the obtuse, entitled priestess who thought she was above all of them to cure her. Although how he was going to do that, he had no idea. Well, I can start by climbing the damn steps and getting in her face., he thought angrily.

  There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. Leaning down, he scooped Nadiah into his arms and started to climb.

  “Rast,” she protested softly as Sylvan and Sophia followed them up the steps. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage.”

  “No you can’t.” He looked straight ahead, keeping the high priestess in his sights. “But you’ll be able to soon. I promise you that, sweetheart.”

  Nadiah stopped protesting and laid her head on his shoulder. It reminded Rast of the way she’d relaxed against him after Y’dex had been yanking on their blood bond, during the trip to Tranq Prime. It made his heart clench to see that look of quiet submission on her face, that look which said she had been hurt before and knew she would be hurt again. He kissed her shining hair and made a silent vow to himself to make her better, no matter what.

  The steps seemed to go on forever but at last they found themselves at the top. Rast set Nadiah gently on her feet, keeping an arm around her to make sure she didn’t lose her balance.

  “Phew!” Sophia exclaimed, panting as she reached the top step. “Like climbing up the side of a pyramid or something.”

  “Silence!” The high priestess’s voice rang out harshly and Sophia’s eyes went wide.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know the ceremony or whatever it is had already started.”

  Rast saw Sylvan squeeze her hand comfortingly. “Forgive us, your Holiness. We are here at your command. Would it please you to tell us why we were summoned?”

  His respectful tone of voice seemed to please the priestess greatly. “Indeed, Warrior, I will tell you. But first I must share with you a story—a legend from our past…and, if we are not careful, a warning for our very near future. Turn from me now and look to the ceiling of the holy cavern. Watch as I relate.”

  All of them turned and Rast saw that the shafts of sunlight which dotted the cavern floor with golden green light had somehow been quenched. Now there was only darkness in the high, vaulted reaches of the holy cavern. But as he watched, the darkness was replaced with a picture. A picture of a man sitting on the Empty Throne.

  Like the biggest IMAX in the whole damn universe, Rast thought, bemused. And on the heels of that, Hey, that guy looks a lot like—

  “You. He looks just like you, Rast!” Nadiah breathed softly. “If you had black hair instead of light brown. Who is he?”

  “The male you see here is Counselor Kall—the last Counselor to ever sit upon the Empty Throne,” the priestess said, answering her question. “But then it was called the Seat of Wisdom. And he bore in his hand, the Eye of Foreknowledge.” As if on cue, the male who looked almost exactly like Rast lifted a heavy silver scepter that looked to be taller than he was. At the top, the scepter was carved into a setting, almost like a ring holding a precious stone. But instead of a stone, the four fingers of silver held in place a…

  “A soap bubble?” Rast frowned. “Why is he holding a bubble? And why doesn’t it pop?”

  “It is no mere bubble. The Eye of Foreknowledge is the third eye of a K’lil,” the priestess intoned.

  Sylvan frowned. “K’lil? I thought they were mythical. Do you mean the huge creatures that used to live on the fifth moon of Gilx? The ones no one could trap because they could always see the hunters coming?”

  “The same.” The priestess nodded. “The K’lil are extinct now. The Eye of Foreknowledge is a rare and precious gift, given by the Goddess herself that the First Kindred might know their enemies’ minds and movements and thus defend against them. Only the Counselor himself can wield it.”

  As if on cue, the man who looked like Rast with black hair brought the bubble end of the scepter close to his face and looked into its shimmering, rainbow depths. Rast couldn’t see what he saw there, but a look of fear and dismay spread over his face and he shook his head before looking up to call someone over.

  A beautiful woman with long, golden brown hair came to join the man. Rast couldn’t help noticing that except for the brilliant green streaks at her temples, her hair was the exact same color as his. She wore a long, loose fitting white gown but under it, her belly bulged prominently—she was pregnant.

  “That is Zali, the chosen mate and Lyzel of Counselor Kall. Together as Challa and Lyzel, they interpreted the visions of the Eye and kept First World safe,” the priestess said. “It was she he called to see the doom approaching them, although he did not wish to give her grief. Only she was worthy to help decide their fate.”

  The priestess looked at Nadiah as she spoke, making Rast wonder if there was some significance in the scene meant just for her. Is she saying Nadiah’s not good enough for me? But why the hell not? And what gives her the right to decide?

  “Of these matters we will speak later,” the priestess said, giving him a dark look. Obviously she had caught part of his thought. “For now, simply watch.”

  Rast looked back at the scene and saw it was still unfolding.

  The man and woman spoke earnestly and though Rast couldn’t hear what they were saying, he could tell it was very serious. The woman put a hand to her cheek and a look of horror crossed her lovely face. The man offered her the scepter and, though it was clear she didn’t want to, she looked into the soap bubble—or the Eye of Foreknowledge as Rast supposed he ought to call it—as well.

  What she saw made her weep, tears running down her cheeks as she clutched protectively at her belly. She shook her head and Rast could almost hear her saying, “No, no it can’t be true! My baby—not my baby!”

  But the man simply nodded. She dissolved into tears and he held her while she cried.

  Though he didn’t know what it was about, Rast felt a lump in his throat. “What happened?” he asked. “Why are they so upset? What did they see?”

  “I will show you.” The priestess’s voice was low and severe. “Prepare yourselves.”

  Suddenly the vast, dark space was empty. Then it was filled with a field of winking stars surrounding a small black ball. No, not a ball, Rast thought. It’s a planet—a planet floating in space. But as the scene zoomed in, getting closer, he could see that the blackness of the planet wasn’t stone or water—it was something living. Or many somethings—all writhing together in a shapeless mass that covered the planet’s surface.

  “Behold Hrakaz, home of the Hoard.” The priestess spoke harshly but Rast thought he could detect fear in her voice. “Known to themselves as the Grimlax and to others as The Blackness which Eats the Stars. They are a vile, desperate, soulless rabble, intent only on devouring everything in their way and making everything as stark and barren as their own miserable rock of a planet.”

  “I can see that their whole planet is black with them,” Sophia said timidly. “But why…why are they called The Blackness which Eats the Stars?”

  “For this reason. Watch.” The Priestess nodded at the scene. Suddenly, from the side of the planet, a ship thrust outward into space. And then another and another until the space around them was black with exiting ships, blotting out the nearby stars.

  “Oh,” Nadiah breathed and Rast could hear the fear in her voice. “They’re looking for new worlds,” she said. “I can feel their hunger.”

  “That is correct.” The priestess gave her a grudging nod of approval. “The Hoard live on a planet in our solar system—only a few hundred million miles from the orbit of First World. They had long been known to us but Counselo
r Kall and his mate thought they only preyed on passing ships and would fear to attack a planet so large and well defended as First World. When they saw this…” She swept an arm to indicate the scene in front of them. “They knew differently. The Hoard were coming and there was little time to prepare.”

  “What did they do?” Sophia asked, her eyes wide. “How could they defend First World against so many?”

  “The Challa and his Lyzel knew that both of them would die in the coming conflict,” the priestess said. “It is one of the burdens a Counselor and his mate must bear—to know the hour of their own deaths. However, they had time to safeguard their son and send him far away—to a place they hoped the Hoard would never reach.”

  “They sent him as far away as possible,” Sylvan said quietly, looking at Rast. “They sent him to Earth.”

  “What?” Rast suddenly understood what he was saying. “Sylvan, come on, you can’t be serious. I’m not…those can’t be my parents. Can they?”

  “That is what we must prove or disprove, Adam Rast…are you the son of Kall and Zali, the last Challa and Lyzel of First World, or are you not?” intoned the priestess.

  “I’m not,” he said at once. “I mean, I can’t be. Didn’t you say this happened a long time ago?”

  “A thousand years ago at least, if what Sylvan told me was right,” Sophia said. “I don’t see how he could be either,” said, turning to Nadiah.

  “A special ship was built—one equipped with a stasis chamber and faster than light ability,” the priestess said. “It traveled through the fourth dimension—time, as well as space. So though a thousand years had passed on First World, by the time its occupant—the Counselor ’s only son—reached his destination, he was still only two or three standard years old.”

  Sophia frowned. “But I thought, if you left someone in stasis too long it made them sick or over aged them or something once they got out.”

  “That’s true if you leave them in with no breaks at all,” Sylvan said thoughtfully. “But if you brought them out every once in awhile—say, even for a minute every day or two—they could stay in stasis almost forever with no ill effects.”

  “So it is possible.” Rast suddenly felt weak in the knees. “Damn. Makes me wish I would’ve paid better attention in physics class.”

  “It is certainly possible,” the priestess said. “And this is the year the Counselor was prophesied to be found on a foreign planet. It was said of him, ‘He will know your ways as if born to them. There shall be wisdom on his tongue and truth and healing in his wings.’”

  Sylvan frowned. “Rast, the way you took to piloting a Kindred ship. It amazed me—I’ve never seen anyone learn to fly that fast.”

  “And the way you were able to break the blood bond for me,” Nadiah chimed in.

  “Not to mention the fact that your blood tests prove you’re Kindred instead of human,” Sophia added.

  “All right, all right.” Rast held up his hands for quiet. “I get it. But what about the wings part—that’s got to be a mistake—right?”

  “There is no mistake.” Suddenly the high priestess was right behind him. Before Rast could stop her, she grabbed the back of his white gown at the neck and ripped it straight down the middle, baring his back.

  “Hey,” he protested. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Looking for that which is not there…but should be.” The priestess ran one sharp green nail down his right shoulder blade and Rast shouted with pain.

  “Whatever you’re doing, stop it! That feels like you poured lighter fluid down my back and lit a match, damn it!”

  “The wing shadows are there.” The priestess seemed to be talking to herself, completely unconcerned with the pain she’d caused him. “But the wings themselves have not manifested yet.”

  “What wings?” Nadiah came around to see what the priestess was talking about and sucked in a breath. “It’s just like my dream. My nightmare,” she whispered. “Rast, your back…you have these long scars. And they’re…it looks like they’re moving…”

  “Hey, stop it! Both of you!” Rast rounded on them and stabbed a finger at the high priestess. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about and I don’t want to know,” he snarled. “And I don’t care if I’m the long lost son of your Counselor or Challa or whatever the fuck he was, either. All I want is to get Nadiah healed and get off this God forsaken planet.”

  The high priestess’s blank emerald eyes narrowed menacingly. “I am afraid, Adam Rast, that both of your wishes are completely impossible. For you cannot heal your little female until you prove yourself. And if you prove yourself, you must never leave First World again.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Ready to turn in?” Liv asked, looking fondly at her husband, Baird. He’d been yawning for an hour but he was still up, doggedly slogging through a book about parenting. The huge Beast Kindred warrior wasn’t usually much of a reader but he was determined to do everything just right when their son arrived.

  “Mmm?” He looked up, his golden eyes drooping with fatigue. “Sorry, Lilenta, what did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

  “I asked if you were sleepy yet. Because I sure am—it was a long day at the med station without Sylvan to help.” She stifled a yawn. “Not to mention that I had to field a call from Nadiah’s parents demanding to talk to her.”

  “Oh?” Baird frowned. “And what did you say?”

  Liv shrugged. “I told them she was making a pilgrimage to First World and wasn’t available. They weren’t too happy about it, either.” She frowned. “And on top of all that, I had to keep checking on Elise Darden.”

  “Why did you have to keep checking on her?” Baird left the book on the couch and wandered over to her, scratching his bare chest. “I thought she was in the stasis chamber—she oughta be fine.”

  “She is, but the way Sylvan’s got it set, she could wake up at any time.” Liv frowned. “Not that she could so much as twitch a toe without your friend, Merrick noticing it. He’s in there with her day and night—I don’t think he ever eats or sleeps.”

  “Merrick is Sylvan’s friend, not mine,” Baird rumbled. “I didn’t even know he was a hybrid until he showed up—Sylvan never told me. He doesn’t talk about him much.”

  “Is that such a bad thing—being a hybrid?” Liv asked curiously. “I mean, I would think it would be good. You get the best of both worlds, right?”

  “Afraid not, Lilienta.” Baird shook his head. “More like you get the worst of both worlds. The Beast Kindred side gives you berserker rage—an animalistic joy in killing.”

  Liv shivered. “But you’re not like that.”

  “I could be though,” Baird said seriously. “If I thought you or the baby was threatened.” He stroked her rounded belly gently. “But the same emotions that would set me off would also help me stop. For instance, I would become upset if I found I was hurting an innocent bystander and that would keep me from attacking them.”

  Liv frowned. “What are you saying? That Merrick wouldn’t stop?”

  Baird shook his head. “The Blood Kindred part of him makes him cold. Once the urge to kill is on him, he kills without mercy and without stopping until every last enemy is dead. He’s got no compassion at all.”

  Liv put a hand to her chest. “A sociopath. You’re saying he’s a sociopath.”

  Baird thought for a minute, then shrugged. “I guess, in a manner of speaking. But only when he’s fighting. And in Merrick’s defense, I don’t believe he wants to be the way he is—that’s why he went to the temple on First World before Sylvan and Sophia’s joining ceremony. He didn’t want to bring them bad luck with his hybrid ways.”

  “That’s good, I guess,” Liv said doubtfully. “But are you sure it’s safe to leave Elise alone with him? I mean, I don’t even know the poor girl but she’s so small and he’s so huge. And after what you just told me I—”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Baird said firmly, putting an
arm around her shoulders. “Hybrid or not, Merrick is still Kindred. He won’t harm a female in his care.”

  “She’s safe here on the Mother Ship,” Liv said, leaning against his solid, muscular frame and enjoying the warmth of his big body against hers. “So why is he still hanging around? Do you think he feels something for her? Maybe…could they be dream sharing or something like that, even with her in stasis?”

  Baird shook his head. “I seriously doubt it, Lilenta. Hybrids aren’t usually able to form bonds with females—they tend to be loners.”

  “What? Why not?” Even though she barely knew the huge, scarred warrior, Liv felt sad for him.

  Baird shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it’s the Goddess’s way of keeping them from overrunning the rest of the Kindred lines. An army of hybrids would be more destructive than the Scourge ever were.”

  Liv imagined an army of seven foot tall Kindred warriors overcome with unstoppable, berserker rage and shuddered. “I guess you’re right. But if he can’t form a bond with Elise, I don’t understand why he’s hanging around.”

  Baird shrugged again. “Maybe he feels responsible for her—he is the one who found her. Maybe he feels like he can’t go until he knows she’s well. Hybrid or not, he’s an honorable male or Sylvan wouldn’t think so highly of him.”