Forbidden Worlds - Box Set (21 page)

Charity felt like she’d covered every inch of the place that night. She and Kol had walked for hours after they left the Council chamber, hand in hand, though she’d come to worry that any physical contact now would only prolong their agony later on.

They stood now on a rock promontory overlooking the Antarean ocean. The first warm rays of daylight had broken over the white-capped waves and all around the rocks a school of brilliant red fish danced and spun, jumping out of the water to catch the small insects that were attempting to settle on the surface of the gentle waves to lay their eggs.

The blue veil of the nearby nebula had faded to a haze just visible along the horizon and the moon hung low and fat above the water, ready to trade with the sun for a place in the lavender sky.

“You can’t give up your lineage for me,” she said after a deep breath of the salty air.

“Nor can I allow Gremin to torture you.”

“I’ll leave. I’ve escaped worse places. We can do this ritual bond-breaking and I’ll—”

“The Council has determined you will be turned over to Gremin as part of the contract they made with the Valencian government. They will not allow you to escape.”

“So what do we do?”

“The only thing we can do is convince the elders to change their decision. Is there anyone else on Gossamer or Celrax you can contact to speak on your behalf?”

Charity stared at the sky. Her home seemed so far away, and all the people she might have turned to for help had their own problems and worries, any of which would be magnified by their association with a known criminal. “No. Let’s do the bond-breaking and let me worry about finding myself an ally.” She couldn’t bear to admit that the odds were no one would be willing to help her. Since her mother’s death, she’d relied on no one but herself, and that wasn’t about to change.

Chapter 11

“There must be a way to reverse the effects of the pollen,” Kol insisted. He paced in Gia’s lab the next afternoon, frustrated and angry with the Elders.

Charity sat in the next room, giving yet another blood sample to one of Gia’s technicians. So far none of her tests had turned up any chemical alternative to the separation ritual.

“The pollen seems to have limited effect,” Gia replied. She looked up from the microscope that held a sample of Kol’s blood. “My tests show the pollen spores cause a short-lived surge in hormones. There’s nothing there to reverse. The...sexual activity caused by inhaling the pollen triggered the right chemical response in your body to activate the bonding retrovirus and you know the only way to reverse that.”

“What about ways to suppress the virus, even for a short time?”

“No.” Gia shrugged. “It wasn’t designed to be suppressed. It can only be killed by the right combination of electro-chemical stimulation and an overdose of adrenaline that occurs during the ritual.”

“And you can’t recreate that combination without physical pain?”

“I’m sorry.”

Kol took up his pacing again. “What about complete decontamination?”

Gia shook her head. “That would not destroy the virus, only any bacteria you may have picked up on Lebron.”

“There must be—”

“Kol.” Gia laid a hand on his arm. “This separation ritual works. It’s painful, but temporary. It’s the only thing you can do to spare your lineage and relieve Charity of the agony of separation once she’s taken from Antares. You must do it or you must leave with her.”

“She deserves our protection.”

Gia gave him a stern look. “Are you so sure? The bond has clouded your judgment about her. She’s wanted in connection to a number of thefts. Perhaps she—”

Kol whirled around and glared at this tribe mate. What bothered him more than her lack of faith in Charity was the fact she was right. He had never doubted the guilt of any of his targets before. He’d never questioned their motives or considered their side of the story. He’d merely done what he’d been assigned to do and never looked back.

He’d never been to Celrax or Gossamer and he’d never known anyone who was starving on the Rim colonies or anyone hoarding selenite for their own greedy purposes. Could it be he believed Charity’s story because his body had become conditioned to love her, thus his mind followed suit?

Gia held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I mean no offense, Kol. I like Charity-Foster and I think, regardless of the bond, she cares for you. I’ve seen it in her eyes. I’m only stating the arguments the Elders have used.”

Kol drew in a steadying breath. “Rather than parrot the elders, why don’t you look for a way to prove them wrong? Please contact me if you find anything useful.”

He strode out of the lab, his heart racing. If only adrenalin were all he needed to break the bond, he could no doubt cure himself.

* * * *

Charity woke at dawn the next morning and let her blurry gaze travel across the room to where Kol slept on a portable pallet on the floor. He hadn’t touched her since the elders’ decree and, despite remaining close enough to ward off the effects of separation, her body ached for him now.

It’s all chemical. She repeated the mantra over and over as she shifted under the thin, snow white sheets of his bed. The way her heart fluttered and her stomach tightened when he looked at her had nothing to do with genuine feeling and everything to do with some genetically engineered bug designed to keep couples together long enough to raise their babies. She and Kol would never have babies together, nor would they be allowed to live happily in the quiet luxury of the A’Kosu compound.

The bond would be nothing more than a curse for them. And it had to be broken, if for no other reason than she couldn’t bear to look at him knowing he’d made love to her because his body demanded it, not because his heart chose it.

She rose in the gray light and slipped into her clothes. He’d held off the separation ritual because he wanted to spare her the physical pain of it, but the Valencians would arrive before sunset today and she had to be ready to escape, or die trying.

Without waking him, she left his quarters and headed through the tranquil gardens toward the A’Kosu Great House.

* * * *

Her absence woke him. Kol rolled to his feet in a swift movement and focused his gaze on the empty bed.

She couldn’t have been gone long, but the uncomfortable twinge in the pit of his stomach told him that each moment took his bond mate farther from him. Was she trying to escape the compound?

He’d made sure she understood that if she strayed too far from his side during this potent, early stage of the bond, the physical agony would incapacitate them both. He thought she understood.

Kol dressed quickly and flung open the door. Gia stood there, her head bowed. Her long, black hair had been carefully twisted into ceremonial braids and she wore her white, formal medic’s robes.

“What happened? Where is Charity?”

“She waits at the Great House. The ritual of separation will begin as soon as you arrive.”

A thousand rude questions sprang into his mind, but he suppressed them. By the look in Gia’s eyes, Kol could tell she was not involved in this.

“I saw myself standing at your door, telling you this,” she said as he shouldered past her. “So I dressed and came over.”

“What else did you see?” He tossed the cavalier question over his shoulder, not expecting a response. His long strides faltered when her quiet answer reached him.

“I saw my white uniform, covered in blood.”

Kol resumed his pace, unable to form a suitable comment. This was not the time to debate the veracity of Gia’s visions or his own. He’d seen nothing valuable in days, and that had him just as concerned as the disturbing visions that had plagued him since the moment he’d seen Charity’s ship slicing through the storm clouds on Lebron.

The doors of the Great House were open when he arrived, and a crowd of his tribe mates had gathered in the front courtyard. It seemed everyone in the compound knew of the separation ceremony but him. With furtive glances, his brothers and sisters parted to allow him and Gia to pass.

When Kol’s eyes adjusted to the dimness inside the Great Hall, he saw Charity. The pain of their temporary separation subsided instantly and was replaced by a different sort of ache. In three swift strides he passed her and positioned himself before the assembled Elders.

This time Barok occupied his rightful place next to Demnar, rather than pacing the chamber floor as he usually did. Kol addressed the Second Elder only, careful to keep his gaze averted from Demnar’s strangely peaceful expression. “We were to be given a choice in this matter.”

“And a choice has been made.” Barok’s response was firm but held a palpable hint of regret. His own gaze fell on Charity and Kol turned to her.

“I made the choice, because I knew you wouldn’t. You shouldn’t have to give up your lineage for me, or for anyone.” Her tawny eyes focused on Barok. “It’s not fair, but that’s never stopped governments from making bad decisions before. We need to break this mating bond before the Valencians get here, and I want to get it over with. Tell me what I need to do.”

Barok rose. “If you are not familiar with the rite, we cannot ask you to--”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you. Let’s get it over with. Now.”

With uncharacteristic glee, Demnar rose from his seat. His green robes swirled around him as he made his way from the podium to the gleaming floor of the chamber. He held in his hand the ceremonial lash, which he placed in Kol’s hands with deliberate reverence.

“Break the bond you share with her, Kol’A’Kosu, or forfeit your place in the lineage of your tribe.”

Just as Kol recalled from his vision, the room filled with the sharp scent of well-worn leather and the whispered comments of the A’Kosu who had now moved from the court yard to crowd the partially open doors of the council chamber. Most of them had never witnessed a separation ritual. This was a rare occasion, never undertaken lightly and usually accompanied by a pall of grief that kept all but those closest to the couple away.

Gia stepped forward then, and with a slight bow to Demnar, placed herself between Kol and Charity. She bent to whisper instructions in Charity’s ear and his bond mate’s golden eyes went wide. Full knowledge of the brutal nature of the rite would make her change her mind. Kol was certain of it.

His heart nearly stopped when she nodded, and Gia stepped away.

Charity pulled off her shirt and tossed the garment on the floor at Kol’s feet. No one in the room flinched or commented when, half naked now, she knelt at his feet.

A wave of vertigo swept over him. Not since the age of ten when his very first vision had come to pass, had he felt this sense of fear and revulsion. It was a side effect that all Antareans who possessed the gift learned to overcome, but now Kol felt as he had more than twenty years ago, sick with contempt for his ability to see what he could not change. The helplessness of it struck him once again, as it had all those years ago, like a physical blow.

He could not abide it.

Charity glanced up at him, adding guilt and grief and an unwelcome measure of arousal to his tumult of emotions. If he carried out the rite, he would feel nothing for her when it was over, and she would feel nothing for him. The relief would be a blessing.

“Kol. Please.” Her voice was steady and clear.

What choice did he have? She’d made her wishes known to the Council and if they did nothing else for her, they would at least uphold this request.

He closed his hand tightly around the wooden handle of the whip and took two small steps to put himself behind her, facing away from the Elders because he dared not look at them.

Let one blow be enough to sever this unnatural bond, he prayed as he raised the weapon.

Charity’s voice echoed in the otherwise deafening silence. “Goddess, bless me. Hurry, Kol.”

* * * *

Charity braced herself for the first blow. A’Kosu’an had told her three lashes with the ceremonial whip would initiate the chemical reaction in her body that would kill the bonding retrovirus.

Then she would be called on to administer the same to Kol. In the end they would renounce any claim to one another and leave the council chamber free of each other forever.

A’Kosu’an had promised Charity relief for the physical pain of the lashes, but nothing would soothe the tear in her heart that came when Kol accepted the whip from the First Elder. He clearly wanted his freedom. He hadn’t chosen this bond and therefore he shouldn’t be held to it. Charity had no right to expect Kol to love her. They’d shared nothing except a few difficult days stranded on Lebron and a few inarguably passionate nights. Where she came from, that was nothing more than a dalliance. To the Dedicants who still sought to rule Celrax with their antiquated beliefs, that was a crime, but to most of the people Charity had ever lived with, it was a way of life. No one stayed together forever. Her own parents had parted shortly after her birth, leaving her mother to struggle to raise a child alone and practice an art in a society that frowned upon both.

Mating bonds were the stuff of speculative fiction and Charity Foster had no time in her life for fairy tale love with a man whose own people were ready to disown him.

She closed her eyes. The first crack of the whip made her entire body stiffen, but the blow never landed.

A curious whisper traveled around the room and she held a moment, fearing perhaps Kol had simply missed. Instead of a painful lash across her back, though, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

With a subtle slap of leather, the whip landed beside her. The gentle pressure of Kol’s touch guided her up from the floor.

“If this is what it means to be A’Kosu, I gladly renounce my lineage.” Kol’s voice boomed in the deathly silent hall. Charity’s jaw dropped, as did those of several of the Elders.

The female, in her sunny yellow robes, rose. “A’Kosu’ri, you understand your decision is final. You may not change your mind on this matter.”

“Of course I understand. I have decided to leave Antares with my bond mate and seek protection somewhere else. If those I counted as my family, those to whom I have given my true name, would not help this woman, then I no longer wish to bear this lineage. I am no longer Kol’A’Kosu, son of Rand.”

Everyone remained still and silent for the longest moment of Charity’s life.

She wanted to throw herself into Kol’s arms, but the stern looks of the Elders kept her frozen in place. Only when A’Kosu’an bent and scooped up her discarded shirt did Charity dare to breathe.

The blue-robed Second Elder stood now, and Charity imagined he looked relieved, maybe even proud of Kol’s surprising decision. He bowed to both of them. “Kol, and Charity-Foster, I bid you peace and invite you to remain in the compound as long as you wish. The A’Kosu cannot intervene on your behalf with the authorities of Valencia, but we can offer you a place of rest and a parting meal before you leave us.”