“I didn’t want to,” Allara whispered, looking up at her aunt. “I never wanted to. I remember now—I must have blocked it out. You told me for years that I must kill my Kindred husband and I always refused until the ceremony at the Song House—until the Unbreakable Oath.”
“The Oath was thought by some to be unnecessary,” her aunt said sharply. “Now I am glad I insisted upon it. Go back to the Kindred Mother Ship, Allara, and fulfill your duty.”
“I—” Allara wanted to say that she would not do it, but somehow the words wouldn’t come to her lips. She tried again. “I…I…” But no more words would come out than that.
“Remember…” Her aunt pointed a finger at her. “Your soul is bound. Never will your Song be free. Complete the mission.”
Then the viewscreen went dark and her Aunt was gone. But in her head, Allara again heard the chants of the Song Leaders and felt the slimy, sacrificial blood on her bare skin…
“By the Oath Unbreakable we bind thee
For its power, stern and strong, will find thee
Your mission is to kill
Your task you must fulfill
Never shall your Song be free.
Thirty-Three
Brand was worried about his wife. Allara had barely spoken a word to him since the apparently disastrous viewscreen conference with her father and her aunt. Brand had been carefully out of earshot—he didn’t want to invade her privacy—but he’d heard some angry shouting on both sides and from the look on his wife’s face, things had not gone well.
“I’m really sorry, sweetheart,” he tried to apologize again as he landed the long-range shuttle in the Docking Bay of the Mother Ship. “I should have asked you before I put in a call to your family—I just thought it would be a nice surprise. I thought—”
“Never mind that, husband.” Her voice was wooden and she stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes. “May we please go back to our suite now? I find myself much fatigued.”
“Of course we can, baby,” Brand said. Gods, it was worse than he’d thought—she wouldn’t even look at him! What could he possibly say or do to make up for his awful mistake?
Unfortunately, he had no idea. Apparently, he had screwed up big-time—as he had heard the humans say sometimes—and he had no idea how to make it right.
They got out of the ship and were heading for the suite when he heard someone call his name. Looking up, he saw Commander Sylvan waving to them from across the Docking Bay.
“Look, sweetheart, I need to talk to Commander Sylvan,” he told Allara, who still had her head down and was being uncharacteristically silent. “Do you want to say ‘hi’ to him too?”
“I would prefer to go back to our suite, husband,” she said in a low, toneless voice. “I am, as I said, much fatigued.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Can you find the way yourself?” Brand asked anxiously.
When she nodded, he bent down to kiss her cheek. Allara didn’t pull away, but she didn’t return the kiss either. She just stared silently down at her feet, as though waiting for him to be finished.
When Brand straightened up, she turned and left without another word or a single glance behind her.
Brand watched her go, his face twisted in a worried frown.
“Is everything all right, Brand? Is your new bride ill?”
Commander Sylvan’s voice brought him back to himself and he looked up to see that his commanding officer was standing right in front of him.
“I don’t think so, Commander—at least, not physically.” Brand sighed unhappily.
“Then what’s the problem, if you don’t mind me asking.” Sylvan raised an eyebrow. “Was it something that happened on Darden Three?”
“Darden Three? Oh, no—no, Darden Three was wonderful,” Brand told him. “Clearly an excellent alliance for the Kindred. We were treated cordially and the Prime Minister has even asked that we send a permanent Kindred ambassador to live there.” He shook his head. “I envy whoever gets that job.”
“It sounds like the first diplomatic mission went perfectly, then,” Sylvan said. “Am I to understand it was the second mission that went amiss?”
“I’m afraid so,” Brand admitted. “I placed the call to the Q’ess, asking that Allara’s people call us on the way home—just as I told you I would.”
“And did they call you?” Sylvan asked.
Brand nodded. “Oh, yes. The call came in and I introduced myself and let them know I was doing my best to take good care of Allara but they would barely say a word to me except to forbid me from taking her to see them. Then her father said he wanted to talk to her alone.”
“Do you know what he said?” Sylvan asked, frowning.
Brand shook his head.
“Not precisely but nothing very good, I’m afraid. I heard a lot of shouting and when I finally came back to the cockpit of the shuttle, the call had ended and Allara was just sitting there, staring straight ahead and saying nothing. I asked her what was wrong but she wouldn’t talk—just shook her head. But there were…were tears rolling down her cheeks.”
Brand felt his heart squeeze in anguish at the memory. This was his fault—he had caused Allara to cry by exposing her to what were obviously toxic people from her past. Goddess, how he wished he’d never done it!
“You can’t blame yourself, Brand,” Sylvan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You were trying to do something nice for her—it’s not your fault that it turned out badly.”
“I should have asked her instead of springing it on her as a surprise,” Brand said, squeezing his hands into fists. “I should have known by the way she talked about them.”
“Why? What did she say?” Sylvan looked concerned.
“Oh, she never said much about her father but her aunt apparently filled her head with horror stories about our Joining night.” Brand sighed. “She told Allara I would force her and hurt her and that she must bear it because that’s what a proper wife does—things like that.”
“Gods, if they think that of us, no wonder they consider us their enemies.” Sylvan shook his head. “That poor little female!”
“She was frightened to death on our first night together,” Brand confided. “I had to explain all about the Claiming Period and promise again and again that I wouldn’t hurt her.” He sighed. “We were doing so well—she even told me she loved me while we were on Darden Three. And now I’ve gone and ruined everything.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Sylvan said gently, squeezing his shoulder. “Family matters can be…complicated. My own family was much less than welcoming to Sophia when I brought her to Tranq Prime the first time, but we got over it.”
“I don’t know.” Brand shook his head. “I just can’t get over the feeling that I’ve made a mistake I can never recover from.”
“Don’t think like that,” Sylvan told him. “Just go back to your suite and try to get a good night’s sleep. Things will look better to both of you in the morning.”