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  “Great, it’s already started,” Reddix muttered under his breath. “Come on—I have to show my support for Saber.”

  “All right,” Nina whispered back. She wished she could ask Reddix what was bothering him. Was it just the stress of the political rally and the uncertainty about his future role in the Tarsian government? Or was it something else? He hadn’t seemed the same since they had left the witch’s hut. Nina had tried to ask him why, but every time she said anything at all he snapped back a curt reply or else simply didn’t answer.

  If they hadn’t been in a hurry to get to the gathering, Nina would have demanded answers or at the very least, let him know she didn’t appreciate the way he was acting. But now wasn’t the time. She promised herself if he was still acting so grumpy after the meeting she would say something. For now, though, she would bite her tongue.

  Reddix went around to the side of the large stage which was situated at the far end of the huge round room and started to ascend the back steps. Nina hurried to join him.

  “Wait—I’ll come with you,” she whispered.

  Reddix shook his head. “No. Stay here—stand by the exit in case you need to get away quickly. This could turn ugly.”

  Nina frowned. “But the crowd…their emotions…”

  “I can’t feel them anymore—I’m cured? Remember?” His deep voice was bitter. Nina wondered why. Shouldn’t he be glad to be cured of his awful affliction?

  “So…you can’t feel anything at all?” she asked, still speaking in a whisper.

  Reddix shrugged. “Only a little. It’s like a…barrier, a wall, has been erected between me and them. I’ll be fine.”

  “Well…all right.” Nina stepped back reluctantly and let him ascend to the stage by himself. When he got there, he took an empty seat beside an older man who looked much like him—probably his father, Redan. Seated beside him were a richly dressed man and his wife that Nina assumed were Saber’s parents. Saber himself was standing at the front of the stage. Lissa stood a little behind him and to his left, her face pale but proud, and her chin lifted in defiance.

  “I have a question,” someone from the crowd called at Saber. “Is it true you recently got bonded to your amalla—your little sister?”

  “I did,” Saber said stoically. He nodded at Lissa who came forward to stand by his side. “But Lissa is no blood relation to me.”

  “Yes, but you’re of the same clan,” someone else in the audience called out.

  “Yes, we are.” Saber nodded. “I make no attempt to deny it. I love Lissa, and she loves me. We are going against the old ways because we feel they are outdated and wrong. A male and a female who love each other should be able to be together, even if their families are of the same clan. This is my belief.”

  “Well, it’s not our belief,” one of the older clansmen said.

  “It’s sick!” declared another one. “How dare you stand before us and announce you’ll lead us while you’re involved in an incestuous bonding?”

  “It’s not incest no matter what we have been taught,” Lissa said, holding Reddix’s hand firmly. “There is no blood connection between us. I realize that we of the Touch Kindred began our strict traditions about marrying outside the clan in order to control our males’ violent tendencies and out-of-control Touch Senses. But those days are over. Our people have come such a long way—our males are strong and brave and true—as good as any of the other Kindred races. Can’t we all agree it’s time to put old traditions to rest and start fresh?”

  “Your words are as fair as your face,” an older woman in the crowd called out. “But we can see plain as plain the tears in poor Saber’s mother’s eyes. She weeps for the way you’ve corrupted her son.”

  Saber’s mother sniffed audibly and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, as though to underscore the woman’s point. Nina frowned—well, Lissa had said her mother-in-law didn’t care for her much. Still, she didn’t have to be so obvious about it.

  “How can you stand to be with her? Have you no decency?” the older woman continued.

  “Again I will say that I love Lissa—not as a sister, but as my bride,” Saber said stoically. “I know it may be hard to believe, but I have no familial feelings toward her at all. The kinship compounds which we are all injected with at birth don’t seem to have had any effect on Lissa or myself, leaving us free to fall in love.”

  “You speak of falling in love with your kinswoman as thought it was right or good,” one of the older clan chiefs said. “But we of the Touch Kindred cannot condone it. We all weep for the loss of a fine young male who would have made an excellent OverChief.”

  Saber bowed his head. “If you all feel that way, then I will of course, step down. But I would like to have more than one or two opinions before I relinquish my sacred right and duty to another.”

  Reddix stood up. “Saber should be free to love as he chooses. We all should.” He cast a quick glance at Nina and then looked away. “He will still make an excellent OverChief and I for one will be proud to serve him.”

  “You only say that because you fear to take the post yourself,” someone shouted out.

  “I fear nothing,” Reddix growled. “I say what I say because Saber is my friend and my commander, and I believe as he and Lissa believe—the old ways are over. It is time for a new order.”

  “Are all the younger generation corrupted?” one of the older chiefs demanded.

  “All of those that would lead us, it seems,” retorted another.

  There was a babble of voices.

  “Heresy.”

  “Disgusting.”

  “Not right.”

  “Forbidden.”

  Nina felt her heart sink. Just as Reddix had predicted, the crowd was getting ugly and restless. Still, she was determined not to leave without him.

  “How can you not see that this is wrong?” one of the older chief’s demanded, rising to address Saber.

  “How can you not see that the old ways are outdated?”

  Nina stared in surprise. The speaker was one of the younger clan chiefs which she had thought looked about Saber’s age.

  “What?” The older chief looked surprised. “What did you say, Yarren?”

  “You heard me.” The young chief rose. “I, Yarren, chief of the Moon Clan, wish to publicly declare my loyalty for Saber. When he serves as OverChief, I will be honored to serve under him.”

  “What are you saying?” demanded another of the chiefs.

  Saber’s father rose, the rich goldish-blue chain around his neck clinking importantly. “I think a better question, is why is he saying it?” he said. “Yarren, why do you speak so in support of my son?”

  “A fair question—one I’m finally willing to answer.” The young chief, Yarren bowed his head respectfully to the OverChief and then looked up. “Only recently have I ascended as the chief of the Moon Clan, and many wondered why I chose to fill the position alone rather than take a bride.” He took a deep breath. “It is because I, too, am in love with my amalla.”

  “What?” an older man who sat nearby him demanded. “How dare you say this, Yarren? I would never have stepped down and allowed you to take over as Chief if I had known.”

  “I know, father,” the young chief said calmly. “But I love her, and I cannot be silent about it any longer.” He looked around the room. “Tamara—come to me.”

  A slender girl with big brown eyes and long chestnut hair rose from the crowd at the back of the auditorium and made her way forward. Nina noticed that some people spat at her and made what she assumed were rude hand gestures as she passed. But others—mostly the younger people—looked at her with understanding and admiration in their eyes.

  When the girl reached Yarren’s side, he took her hand and kissed her—gently but firmly—on the mouth. There was a long moment of silence, as though everyone in the auditorium was holding their breath. Then a young Kindred warrior in the crowd stood up and shouted,

  “I love my amalla too!”