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  “We’re ready,” he answered for all of them.

  “Are you?” Lissa looked at his shoulders and frowned.

  Rast frowned back. “I know what you’re thinking but sorry, no wings yet. My back itches like hell but so far not so much as a single feather.” He felt a touch of anxiety. “They should come out during the ceremony, right?”

  “Certainly. Of course.” Lissa nodded but Rast thought there was a troubled look on her face. “Come,” she said, beckoning them. “I must lead you a different way this time—up to the high mesa.”

  * * * * *

  Nadiah allowed herself to be carried until they reached the bottom of the mesa. But when she saw the narrow stone steps cut into the side of the rock, winding higher and higher around the vast natural stone structure, she begged Rast to put her down.

  “There are too many steps,” he objected, frowning. “You can’t possible climb all the way up there, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, I can.” Nadiah lifted her chin, and looked at him defiantly. “Because I have to. It’s too narrow, Rast. You can’t carry me—not without both of us falling.” She shivered at the thought. She had always hated heights and the towering mesa was higher than anything she’d ever been on.

  Rast sighed. “It is narrow. Too bad they’re no guardrail for safety.”

  “Forgive the crudeness of the steps,” Lissa murmured, coming up behind them. “The mesa has not been used regularly for hundreds of years. And even when it was, the steps were not the way most used to get to the top.”

  “What, you’ve got an elevator around here?” Rast asked. “Because that would be nice.”

  She frowned. “I refer, of course, to the fact that the Counselor usually flew to the top of the high mesa and took his Lyzel with him. But what is this ‘elivador’ you speak of?”

  “Oh,” Sophia jumped in. “It’s a sort of box with cables on the top that runs up and down between floors in a tall building. You press the button for the floor you want and it stops there and you get out. It’s much faster than climbing the stairs.”

  Lissa looked thoughtful. “I have no ‘elivador’ as you call it, but I might be able to make something like it. Tell me,” she said, looking at Nadiah. “Would you trust my powers to raise you to the top of the mesa? I have never reached so far myself but I am certain I could do it.”

  Nadiah took another look at the narrow, crumbling steps that wound around the steep face of the stone wall. She imagined herself clinging to the wall like an insect, inching her way up, step by step, while the hot desert wind gusted through her hair, trying to pull her back down to the sandy rainbow floor. No—I can’t do that. It’s too much, too high. She nodded gratefully at the young priestess. “Of course I trust you. Thank you, Lissa. Thank you with all my heart.”

  The young priestess blushed with pride. “You are welcome—it is my pleasure and privilege to serve you. Would you please all group yourselves together?”

  Sophia and Sylvan came up behind them and Rast picked up Nadiah again, over her protests. “Forget it,” he murmured, under his breath. “If we’re going a thousand feet straight up into the air on a platform of moving sand, I’m keeping you close.”

  Nadiah gave up without much of a fight. To be honest, she was glad he insisted on holding her. Being able to close her eyes and put her head on his shoulder greatly mitigated her crippling fear of heights.

  “Get ready,” Lissa said quietly and then the sand firmed under them as it had before and slowly began to rise.

  “Wow,” Nadiah heard Rast murmur. “This view is amazing.”

  A quick peek showed that he was right—it was amazing the way they were slowly lifting up into the clear blue sky and leaving the multicolored desert below them. Amazing and extremely frightening. Quickly she shut her eyes again and buried her face in Rast’s shoulder.

  “You will get used to such sights quickly when you soar above the clouds,” Lissa said softly.

  “You mean when my wings, finally sprout.” Rast sighed. “God, I can’t believe I just said that. Somebody call the loony bin and reserve me a room.”

  “The wings are no joke, Rast,” Sylvan said from behind them. “According to legend, they’re made of the same corporeal material as the Goddess herself—they are a part of her, grafted onto her most trusted servant, if you will.”

  Rast sighed again. “Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “If you will forgive me for saying so, you do not sound very happy about the idea of gaining your wings or living here on First World,” Lissa murmured. “Perhaps our planet does not seem beautiful to you?”

  “Oh no, it’s lovely,” Sophia protested politely. “It’s just, well…I don’t think Rast expected to have to stay here, you know, forever. Not that he doesn’t want to,” she added hastily. “He and Nadiah both, I’m sure they’ll be happy once…once they get used to it…” She trailed off and Nadiah was positive she was blushing—though she wasn’t about to open her eyes and make sure.

  “I am certain they will be very happy,” Lissa said quietly. “It does take some getting used to. I myself am not native to this world. I came—was forced to come—to join the priestesshood here, though I didn’t want to. You could almost say I was exiled to First World, just as you and your female are, Counselor .” She nodded at Rast.

  “Oh really?” Rast sounded interested. “And where did you come from?”

  “My parents were part of the Tarsian trade,” Lissa answered. “My father was a First Kindred and my mother was a female of Tarsia. It was she who decided I should come back to my father’s home planet and dedicate my life to the service of the Goddess.”

  “Was there no one to speak for you?” Sylvan asked. “No one to protest your exile?”

  My…” Lissa paused slightly. “My…forgive me, I’m not certain what word you would use but for the purposes of my planet it was my older brother. He spoke for me but he was overruled.”

  “I have heard of that trade,” Sylvan said. “But I thought most of the Council was against it—they said there weren’t enough of your people yet to make a good genetic base.”

  “So they did.” Lissa nodded. “But a few Kindred warriors defied them and came to us anyway.”

  “What does it matter how many people there are?” Sophia asked.

  Lissa’s voice dropped. “I think the Council feared there would be…inbreeding. And given the particular abilities of my people, any genetic flaws that resulted would be…dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Sophia asked. “Dangerous how?”

  The young priestess sighed and Nadiah thought she sounded terribly sad. “My people are…different. The male warriors that result from the trade are not well accepted among the other, established Kindred races.”

  “I didn’t even know there was a whole other branch of the Kindred. Why aren’t they accepted?” Sophia said.

  Sylvan cleared his throat. “The Tarsian Kindred have certain…powers. They are called the Touch Kindred by the rest of us.”

  “The Touch Kindred? Why?” Sophia wanted to know. Nadiah wanted to know too, so she was glad her friend was asking. All the rumors she’d heard about the Touch Kindred were ominous and a little frightening but she’d never actually met one before.

  “The male warriors of my kind have the ability to manipulate things outside themselves in the way I manipulate and use the sand,” Lissa said hesitantly.

  “Oh, like telekinesis,” Rast said. “I’ve had as much as I want of that shit.” Nadiah felt him shudder and knew he was remembering the challenge of wills where he’d been forced to eat a mud worm.

  “In a way,” Lissa admitted. “But their powers are more… internal.”

  “Using their mental powers, they are able to ‘touch’ or manipulate the body of another. Specifically, they can ‘touch’ a female they want,” Sylvan said, taking over when it became obvious the young priestess was too embarrassed to continue.

  “Exactly,” Lissa murmured and Nadiah co