Forbidden Worlds - Box Set (19 page)

Chapter 9

Woozy and wobbly from her long, fitful sleep aboard the Valencian shuttle, Charity gladly turned herself over to the waiting hands of a trio of Antarean doctors when they arrived at the compound that housed the A’Kosu tribe.

The two men and one woman looked surprisingly similar to Kol, muscular and broad-shouldered with beguiling light blue eyes and dark hair.

“Are you all related?” she asked when strong arms lifted the portable carrier into which she’d been placed.

“We are all A’Kosu,” the woman said. “And you are very weak. Please lie still and rest.”

A jumble of fuzzy images flashed across her field of vision then—a brilliant star-filled sky dominated by the blue veil of the Antare nebula, streaks of red light from whirling emergency beacons, and finally a brief glimpse of Kol’s worried face as he bid her safe journey to the nearby medical facility.

Charity attempted to lift a hand to wave to him, but the effort sent a wave of fatigue through her body beyond anything she’d felt before. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting the unfamiliar voices lull her back into blessed darkness.

* * * *

Kol watched his brothers and sisters of A’Kosu carry Charity away. Deep in the pit of his stomach, an ache began, more an annoyance than a true pain at this point. He dismissed it as the aftereffects of drinking untreated water on a foreign planet, or perhaps eating a spoiled protein bar.

He ignored the discomfort and turned to offer a deep bow of respect to the white-haired man who had waited patiently for the medics to tend their charge.

“Kol’A’Kosu, welcome home, Son of Rand’A’Kosu. I’m grateful to see you are not the one in need of medical attention.”

Kol straightened his spine and met his elder’s searching gaze. “Barok’Kosu, I’m pleased to see you well also. I’d heard you had taken ill a fortnight past.”

The old man dismissed his concern with a wave, but a rueful smiled tugged at the deep wrinkles around his mouth. “I suffered from a foolishness of spirit. At two hundred and forty summers, I should know better than to follow fire-wren through the upper mountain passes at high sun.”

Kol bowed his head and smiled. “You seem to be no worse for your adventures.”

“Perhaps not, but you...haven’t fared as well. Why have you brought an injured human home with you?”

“To protect her. I believe she faces an unjust punishment.”

Barok only stared. The old man had an uncanny ability to draw information from others without saying a word. In his youth, Kol had often felt compelled by nothing more than a question in Barok’s eyes to confess his errors of judgment. Today was no exception.

“She was my prisoner. I helped her escape the Valencians after a vision showed them torturing her. I could not abide it.”

“And so you had a vision that did not come to pass?”

“Part of it did.”

Barok turned away. He clasped his hands behind his back and headed with sure, steady steps toward the path that would lead them to the A’Kosu Great House where the Elder Council would meet. Kol followed at a respectful distance.

“You seem uncomfortable, Kol’A’Kosu. Are you ill?”

“No, Barok. I...imagine a few days of proper food will clear my system. We’ve been stranded on Lebron for several days.”

“And the Valencians kindly leant you their ship?” Accusation tempered the amusement in Barok’s voice, but his inquiries would be the least harsh of all the Elders, his judgments the most fair.

Kol steeled himself for the shame of his admission. “The ship is stolen from the guards who injured Charity.”

Barok’s stride faltered at the use of the human female’s name. “To save a life is noble. To endanger others in the process is questionable. I look forward to hearing a full account of your ordeal.”

Kol grunted his ascent and the knot of pain in his gut tightened a bit. He would not need a vision to show him the outcome of his meeting with the Elders. They would not be pleased.

* * * *

The Antarean sun rose quickly, hurtling over the rocky horizon and sliding through brilliant clouds in shades of violet, mauve, dove gray, and bright orange. The scent of hot food wafted through the air vents in Charity’s room, reminding her how long it had been since she’d eaten food that didn’t come sealed in crylon.

She tore her gaze away from the spectacle of sunrise and used her elbows to push herself up in the narrow bed. Sometime during the night the Antarean medics had woken her and explained that her blood loss had nearly been fatal. They’d worked diligently to replace all the fluids she’d lost and hoped the synthetic blood they’d given her would suffice since they had no suitable donors among the A’Kosu tribe.

She’d drifted in and out of consciousness and now, even though her side gave a sharp twinge when she moved, she felt sufficiently recovered to be impatient about breakfast.

“Hey? Hello?” The curtained alcove in which she lay didn’t seem to have a com unit anywhere in sight. She’d almost decided to get up and follow her nose to the source of the mouthwatering aromas when a large hand drew the fabric partition aside.

An A’Kosu woman stood there, dressed in pale green and carrying a tray piled high with what appeared to be an Antarean feast. When she spoke, Charity recognized her voice from snippets of comforting memories. “I hope you are well enough to eat.”

The woman towered over Charity and probably rivaled Kol in height. Though her stature was intimidating, her manner and her voice were friendly. She set the heaping tray next to the bed and ran one of her large hands over Charity’s wound, holding several centimeters above the new, clean bandage they’d applied over their surgical handiwork.

Charity stilled and held her breath. She hadn’t witnessed a Reiki healing since the night before her mother’s execution. The skin beneath the bandage tingled and, unbidden, hot tears gathered at the back of Charity’s throat. “You practice Reiki?”

“On occasion. If you are offended by the practice, I will stop.”

“No.” Charity grabbed the woman’s hand. “It’s fine. Very much appreciated. Thank you.”

The Antarean medic continued her treatment for a few moments, during which a soothing warmth spread through Charity’s entire body.

She hadn’t felt this much at home in longer than she could remember. Or this lonely, either. Her mother would have loved these people...and been allowed to practice her art freely had she been fortunate enough to live among them.

“So,” she said finally, swiping at a tear that threatened to run down her cheek. “Did you put all my parts back where you found them?”

The woman smiled. “We only had a few left over. We’re keeping them in a jar for you.”

Charity’s panic at the deadpan answer lasted only a split second. She laughed. “So you practice sarcasm here as well, I see. That’s good. I should fit right in.”

The Antarean woman’s chuckle was deep and reassuring. She hitched one hip onto the corner of the bed. “Humor aside, you should heal well. You’re body hasn’t rejected the synthetic blood, and there seems to be no sign of infection.”

“I guess Kol fixed me up pretty well in the shuttle.” At the mention of his name, the woman seemed to stiffen a bit. The friendly smile left her eyes.

“Kol?”

“Yes...he brought me here.”

“I know to whom you’re referring. I’m just surprised that you have his name.”

Charity nodded. “He told me that names are sacred among Antareans. I’m honored that he gave me his.”

“They are. You should not refer to him by that name except in the company of others who have been given leave to use it as well. If you call him A’Kosu’ri others will know of whom you speak.”

Charity frowned. “Thanks. I’m Charity, by the way and it’s okay to call me that. What shall I call you?”

The female Antarean rose and settled the food tray across Charity’s lap before she replied. “You may call me A’Kosu’an, which is my title. If you do not know someone’s title, anyone here will answer to the name A’Kosu.”

“That must get confusing.” Charity tried to make a mental note, but her brain was still a bit fogged from the medications they’d given her and the faint buzz of pain in her belly. A’Kosu’an left her then with a curt nod and a faint smile.

She stared at her breakfast which suddenly seemed less appealing. Her desire to eat had been replaced by a longing, an emptiness in her that food would not fill, and it seemed to have come on her the moment she mentioned Kol’s name.

* * * *

Barok paced before Kol, tapping one thin finger against his chin. Beyond the old man, the remaining members of the A’Kosu tribal council sat in their places on the curved podium of the Great House. Each of their faces was lit by a small spot of white light that made them appear as heads floating above the polished black surface of their table.

“The agreement was with Magistrate Gremin of Valencia, to track and capture a thief. That agreement was not upheld.” Yannick, the only female elder, repeated what had already been stated by each of the six other Council members in turn.

Kol fought not to roll his eyes or express any measure of fatigue. His gut twisted uncomfortably, and his errant thoughts turned to Charity and the severity of her wounds. No word had reached him yet about her recovery, and concern ate at his thoughts, distracting him from the proceedings. “I request to have the prisoner speak before you. She tells of the conditions on the Rim colonies and how Magistrate Gremin hoards the selenite they need to power their generators. Colonists on her world are starving, and she sought to buy them food and medicine, not line her own pockets.”

Barok nodded. “I’m certain you believe this, Kol’A’Kosu. But we need more proof. The A’Kosu do not break their word lightly.”

“The A’Kosu do not break their word at all,” First Elder added. His disdain for non-Antareans colored all of his decisions, yet he remained in the highest position of respect as First Elder because of his advanced age. Three hundred years of life had made Demnar wise, if not kind.

“If this human is lying to protect herself, we will bear the shame of it,” Yannick said. “All A’Kosu will bear it.”

“Her claims can be verified with a trip to Celrax and the other Rim colonies,” Kol offered. He’d grown weary of this argument an hour ago and now hunched forward in his seat, guarding his aching stomach with one arm.

Barok’s clever gaze assessed his posture, and he attempted to straighten to hide his growing physical discomfort. “Kol’A’Kosu, I ask again. Are you ill? We will suspend our discussion while you visit the infirmary.”

“I’m well, Elder Barok. Merely fatigued from poor rations and lack of rest.”

Yannick stood. She pursed her lips and stepped down from the podium. Kol held himself still while she circled his chair, her yellow robe flowing around her like a lake of sunlight. “He is not ill, Barok. He aches for his mate. Anyone can see that. Why has Kol’A’Kosu been denied a reunion with his loved one?”

“I have no mate.” Kol’s answer was quick and final. His words echoed from the high ceiling and the dark walls of the Great House.

Yannick stared at him. “You hold yourself in the posture of the bonded. Your body weakens for want of another.”

“No. I am merely fatigued. Lebron is a humid world with driving rains and dangerous wildlife. We had little food and—”

“You mated with the human female.”

All eyes turned to Kol at Yannick’s accusation. Even Barok stopped his pacing and turned around. “A mating bond?”

“No. A stomach ailment. Perhaps I am ill after all.” Kol held his ground. He’d gladly have purged his last meal as proof, but he’d eaten next to nothing since they’d left Lebron. Hunger gnawed at him along with the strange pain in his gut, but it was not nausea.

“What have your visions shown you, A’Kosu’ri?” This came from Demnar whose use of Kol’s title spoke volumes.

“I have seen very little, only the human being tortured unjustly by the Valencians.”

“And I have seen Kol’A’Kosu standing before us with this human by his side. We will investigate her claims,” Barok said. He placed a surprisingly strong hand on Kol’s shoulder and squeezed. “I have seen it.”

Demnar and the others rose, obviously unable to dispute the details of Barok’s vision. “Then we will adjourn until the human can speak for herself, but know this, A’Kosu’ri, we will also seek testimony from the Magistrate and from the men you left behind on Lebron. Any decision we make will be based on all of the facts. The selenite will be held in the Great House under guard until such time as our decision has been finalized.”

Kol rose, determined not to hunch forward to relieve the relentless pain in his gut. “Thank you, Elders. I will abide your decision, as always.”

Barok gave him a hard look. “Until then, Kol, go and see A’Kosu’an. If this ailment of yours gets worse, I fear we will find you on the floor.”

Kol nodded. He bowed to the Elders and backed out of the audience chamber. He would go to see A’Kosu’an and he would pray to Charity’s goddess that he’d picked up an intestinal parasite on Lebron. He refused to acknowledge the absurd possibility that, somehow, a mating bond had formed between himself and a human female.