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  “You must not speak so of the High Priestess.” Lit’aal looked shocked.

  “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” Emily demanded.

  “Well…” Lit’all bit her lip. “Yes, in a way, I suppose. The Khallas are an extension of the Temple and the High Priestess’s power. They are beloved of the people and their support comes back to the Temple, making Mother Chundra one of the most powerful females on Rageron. I suppose that is why she keeps such tight control over the Khallas.”

  “Why does she get to run this whole place and say who the Khallas get to bond with?” Emily demanded. “She’s not even a Khalla herself, is she?”

  “No.” Lit’aal shook her head. “But she has been in charge here for a very long time. It is said that things were different before she took control but that was so long ago people can scarcely remember it.”

  “So she gets to tell everybody what to do, even if it makes them miserable.” Emily frowned. “What about the candidates? Do they come here of their own choosing?”

  “Some do,” Emily said carefully. “But some are handpicked by Mother Chundra. She goes all over Rageron looking for the best and brightest males. They are made to come here to the Temple where they must stay until they become the chosen mate to a Khalla.”

  “But I thought that Khallas are really rare,” Emily protested. “What if they don’t get one?”

  Lit’all shrugged sadly. “After a time they will be sent from the Temple but they must remain celibate all of their lives, as a sacrifice to the Goddess. It is…not a happy life.”

  “For the candidates or for the Khallas either, apparently,” Emily muttered. “Why don’t people just rebel? Run away? Leave her boney ass here and go do their own thing?”

  “Oh, we cannot do that!” Lit’all looked shocked. “The High Priestess is the Mouthpiece of the Goddess and the head of the Holy Council. She must be obeyed.”

  “Even if it means getting married, uh, bonded to someone you don’t love and spending your whole life on an endless publicity tour?” Emily demanded. “No, I don’t accept that!”

  “There is nothing you can do about it, my Khalla,” Lit’all said sadly. “My friend protested too loudly and Mother Chundra made sure she was bonded to the male least suitable for her.” She sighed. “At least you will be getting Daro. He will be kind and supportive of you, my Khalla. And I hope…” She bit her lip. “I hope you do not mind if we speak to each other from time to time. Not extensively, though.” She sighed. “Though I will miss our walks in the garden at night.”

  The garden… For some reason, the idea of a garden…of plants and growing things seemed to resonate in Emily’s head. Suddenly she heard a voice whispering, “Milk…you must drink the Black Milk. Tis the sap of the Bitter Sorrow flower—it grows only on Rageron in the Holy Mountains.”

  “The garden?” she asked, clearing her throat. “Is it filled with all kinds of flowers or what?”

  “The Temple has extensive flower and herb gardens,” Lit’aal said eagerly. “There you will find every kind of plant that is native to the Holy Mountains.”

  “That actually sounds pretty interesting,” Emily said. “You know, I think I will take that walk with, uh, Daro. But only if you come with us,” she added quickly.

  “Oh, I couldn’t!” Lit’aal protested. “You need time alone with your chosen mate to get to know him, Khalla.”

  “No, I need the only friendly person I’ve met since I came to this awful place to stick with me,” Emily said firmly. She hooked her arm through Lit’all’s. “Come on—show me the gardens.”

  Lit’aal looked suddenly uncertain. “I don’t know, my Khalla. I believe I am supposed to call a retinue of guards to accompany us if we go out of the Temple at all.”

  “Why bother?” Emily asked, trying to sound like it was no big deal. “Daro is going to be with us, isn’t he? And we’re not going anywhere dangerous—just out in the gardens. That’s not a big deal, right?”

  “Well…” The other girl seemed to be wavering. “I suppose not.”

  “All right then—let’s go!” Emily started pulling her down the long marble hallway. “Tell me more about Daro. How long have you guys been talking?”

  Lit’aal’s indigo eyes lit up and she began to tell all about the man Emily was certain she loved. She pretended to listen but inside, she kept hearing the voice in her head urging, “The Black Milk, child—drink the Black Milk and you’ll never be unhappy any more. You’ll never feel anything ever again.”

  * * * * *

  Tragar frowned as he flipped off the viewscreen. That had certainly been a strange call he had received. Apparently the contract on Emily’s life had been cancelled—just like that. In all his years working as an agent of the Verrak such a thing had never happened.

  It must be true though—the male who had called, identifying himself as an agent of the Dark Kindred, Two, had known all the correct information. He had even possessed the secret pass code that only the one who placed the contract would have. It was the only way other than death to end a contract but this was the first time anyone had called Tragar back and used it. Usually when someone wanted another person dead badly enough to bring in the Verrak, they didn’t change their mind.

  He lowered the energy dagger he’d been handling before the call came through. Since Emily was settled with another chosen mate he had felt there was no choice but to go through with his earlier promise and sacrifice himself to fulfill the contract.

  But what now? If the contract is void and Emily is safe?

  Yes, what could he do now? He doubted Tier Shan would welcome him back with open arms. He had showed too much reluctance to follow orders lately. He thought of calling his superior just to inform him of the cancelled contract but there seemed to be no point. The emissary of Two had assured him he had already placed a call to his Verrak superior so there was nothing to say.

  Nothing to say and now, nothing to do. No way to serve the female he loved, even by his death.

  She’s gone, he thought bleakly. Gone beyond my reach and I cannot even sacrifice myself for her. I do not even have an honorable reason to end my own miserable existence.

  Closing his eyes, he saw her lovely face twisted with sorrow, her eyes glowing gold with pain.

  “Fight for me!” she’s said. “Why don’t you fight for me?”

  The memory stirred something in his brain—something under all the guilt and self-recrimination. Fight for me… It made him wonder. Hadn’t his old Master once told them of a law…? But no—what good would it do to even think of such a thing? Emily was with the male she deserved…and one who truly deserved her. He would never see her again.

  Tragar studied the energy knife in his hand again and thumbed on the blue, humming blade. Maybe he didn’t need an honorable reason to take his own life after all…

  Suddenly the indicator light to the viewscreen started blinking urgently. Tragar almost decided to ignore it but then it occurred to him that the call might have to do with Emily in some way. What if she was ill or hurt or in danger? He doubted very much anyone at the Temple would contact him in such a case but he supposed there was an outside chance…

  He hit the button and the viewscreen sprang to life revealing the face of the very male he had been thinking about moments before.

  “Master!” Tragar looked at him in surprise.

  “Tragar.” Xen’dex’s eyes dropped to the glowing blue energy knife in Tragar’s hand. “What are you doing? Where is your Khalla?”

  “She is not my Khalla any more—she never was.” Tragar tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but could not. “She has been given to another—not that it is very surprising considering my past.”

  “Yes, your past.” Xen’dex was frowning. “What of it?”

  “What do you mean, what of it? You know what I am. You know what I have done.”

  “And I know why you did it.” His old Master nodded. “You had a terrible tragedy, my student, but you cannot allow