Kohn

The temptation to stay here in my tent, locked in the warm embrace of my little mate is strong. But I cannot skip the ceremony. And I cannot dismiss the gravity of what I’ve done, either.

I have broken our laws. I have bonded without blessing. Will the gods punish me by taking Anya away? From across the room, she looks at me from the crowd of elder women who have come to array her in ceremonial dress. It is a courtesy extended to all the newly mated, and they care for my little one as if she is one of our own.

She looks shy and innocent as the moon-colored shift slides over her head. They plait gemstones into her hair. They paint her eyes with kohl and her lips with red pigment made from a flower that blooms only during the festival.

I don an ochre sash and matching kilt, and tall boots. It’s the formal uniform of a warrior and chieftain, but today, all couples are the same at the ceremony. We all ask for the same sign, the one that will permit the soul bond we’ve already entered without divine permission.

I look back at Anya, and she smiles—actually smiles. It’s the first smile I’ve seen since I laid eyes on her. My heart swells with happiness. I walk over to her.

“Leave us,” I tell the elder women, and they nod and obey. I watch them go before turning to her.

“You look so beautiful.” I wrap a tendril of her dark hair around my finger.

“Last night,” she says. “What happened?”

“You tell me,” I say.

“Magic.” I see her shudder at the memory. “Magic happened.” Then tears fill her eyes. “What do I do, Kohn?” She’s said my name. Another first. “I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never felt…” She puts her hand to her chest while staring at mine. “I’ve never felt part of anyone’s life, let alone part of them.”

I pull her to me. I wish I had answers, but the truth is, I don’t know, either. I did not want to take a defiant human to the ceremony. I was sure we would have a soul bond, and we do. But to experience it without the blessing. I don’t want to make her afraid, but she deserves to know the truth.

“Come here,” I say, and sit with her on a low bench by the ring of Flame Stones. I explain the ceremony, explain that we were to ask a blessing of the gods. I explain that as each warrior lights a sacred fire today, an image will appear in the smoke. Not all couples who mate experience a soul bond. They may still be true mates, but they can live apart. I tell her my fear, that the gods may well punish us for what we’ve done. We may have angered them. They may strip us of what we have. Only the image in the smoke will tell.

“I would have called this superstitious barbarism days ago,” she says. “But after last night… I realize there’s so much I don’t understand.”

I keep a protective arm around her as we join the procession to the eight standing rocks that mark our holy place. There are mounds of sapphire rocks, one for each couple, that will be lit by the warrior.

The priestess, a beautiful female with long silver hair and a strong, ringing voice, welcomes us all. She explains the ancient ceremony, and tells each couple they will see a sign in the flames. If the image is of a male and female embracing, it is a sign from the gods that they will form a soul bond this day. But if the figures are parted, there will always be a distance between them.

My brother nods to me from where he and others are seated. He has already gotten his mate with child. Her hands are resting on her swollen belly. I want the same for me and Anya, but I’m afraid to look that far ahead.

Ingnar and his mate are the first to approach their rocks. The priestess hands them a torch, and they touch it to coals glowing in a brazier. Once it lights, Ingnar touches the tip to the sapphire rocks and twin plumes of smoke rise skyward. Within moments, they morph into figures that dance and move apart and then together. The elder priestesses sing a song of praise as the smoke couple twirls together in an erotic embrace that mirrors that of the couple.

One by one the other couples are handed torches. It is a good year. The gods are pleased. Will they be pleased with us, too?

Beside me, Anya looks pale and unsure.

“Will they make me leave?” she asks. “If there isn’t a sign…?”

“Do you want to stay?” I ask, but before she can answer, there is a shout, and a rumble. We look up, and I see them—three Hoverpods coming through the village, their lights glaring as they stir up smoke in their wake. When they stop, another Earth female exits, wearing the required robes. She strides forward, trailed by two Earth males.

“Anya!” The Earth woman calls my mate’s name.

“Halt!” The priestess steps forward. “You are on sacred ground!”

The Earth male points to a badge on his chest. He is from the outpost. “We are here on Interstellar Council business,” he says. “On reports of an abduction.”

Beside me, I hear my mate gasp. She grabs my hand. Hers is shaking.