“That wasn’t quite the response I expected.” Andira’s amusement was bright to her senses. “And I had no idea your taste in entertainment was so bad. Guilty pleasure, Lead Templar?”
“I don’t watch it, but my aide does. He keeps me apprised of the plot, such as it is.” She examined Andira more closely. “You thought I’d say what most of your caste and mine will—that she can’t be good enough for you if she’s a producer. Fahla doesn’t make those distinctions. They’re a limitation of perception we impose on ourselves.”
“I did think that,” Andira admitted. “But I should have known better. Thank you—I’m going to remember those words when the news gets out and judgments start raining down on us. And I can’t wait for Salomen to meet you. I’ll just introduce you and then sit back and listen.”
She recognized the name. It was hard not to; the producer’s challenge to the Lancer had been global news for the last moon. “You fell for the woman who challenged you?”
“I don’t know that I’d describe it as falling. It’s more like we were pushed together. I spent half a moon in battle with her and then suddenly—” She made a helpless gesture. “Lanaril, I think she’s my tyree.”
Lanaril was speechless. This was the very last thing she would have guessed.
“Having second thoughts about whether she’s good enough for me?”
“No, not at all. Only Fahla can decide a tyree match. If Salomen Opah really is your tyree, then I could not be happier for you. The only thing you’re sensing is my wish that she shared your empathic strength.”
“She does. In fact she might be as strong as I am, though it’s difficult to tell when she’s so untrained.”
“A producer high empath!”
“She didn’t want to leave her caste, so she hid her powers. She fooled the testers at ten cycles.”
“Great Goddess.”
“She’s one of a kind.” The smile on Andira’s face said it all.
Lanaril rose, collected both of their shannel cups, and took them over to the sideboard. Then she pulled the stopper on a new bottle of spirits, poured two glasses, and brought them back.
“Start from the beginning,” she said.
Her astonishment mounted as she heard about battles of words and wills, delegate meetings, training sessions, intimate family moments, and an attraction that Andira still didn’t recognize in hindsight. “I don’t know when it all began,” she said, but Lanaril did.
“It began in that very first delegate meeting, when she refused to back down. How many people in your life stand up to you even when you’re exerting the full power of both your will and your office on them?”
“I think you’re confusing irritation with attraction.”
Lanaril smiled and motioned for her to continue.
The more she heard, the more she understood that Fahla had chosen the perfect match. All of Alsea would have expected their Lancer to find a bondmate in the elite circles of power or at least in one of the two ascendant castes. Instead, she had found a producer who was entirely beyond her experience. She hadn’t known how to respond to a woman who not only didn’t understand the accepted rules, but wasn’t even playing the same game. For once in her life, Andira’s caste, family name, and title meant nothing. It sounded as if her artful ability to manipulate others was hitting a stone wall as well.
Then Andira spoke of the first empathic flash, and a chill ran down Lanaril’s spine. Her suspicion was confirmed with the account of the second, searing flash that had burned out both women’s senses this morning. When Andira fell silent and looked at her for answers, Lanaril could hardly contain her awe.
“There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that you’ve found your tyree,” she said. “Not only that, but when you complete your bond, it will be of an extraordinary strength. You’re not just tyree. You’re the kind I’ve only read about.”
“I didn’t know there were different kinds.”
“There haven’t been recently. Or perhaps they existed but weren’t recorded. Everything I know about them comes from older texts.” She went to her bookshelves and ran a finger down several spines before finding the one she was looking for. Quickly, she flipped through the pages. “Ah, here we go. ‘When Fahla touched them, and divine spirit met flesh, the chosen tyrees burned with her fire. Separated, the fire reached for itself, seeking union. In the conflagration their bond was sealed, and thereafter they bore the remnant sparks within them, never to be extinguished.’”
“So the empathic flashes are the fire of Fahla?”
Lanaril brought the book with her as she retook her seat. “You have been touched, Andira. I don’t know when or how, but Fahla has come to you personally. Normal tyrees feel the empathic flash only once, during the bonding. For the two of you to be experiencing them before your bonding means that your empathic centers are reaching for each other. They’re trying to connect, to complete that bond, from a distance that shouldn’t be possible. And once you do complete it, your bonding will be irreversible.”
“All tyree bonds are irreversible. Unless they’re broken from the inside.”
“You won’t be able to break yours even if you wanted to. Remember, it says the remnant sparks are never to be extinguished. Once you bond, your minds will be permanently linked. As far as Salomen is concerned, you’ll be without a front. You’ll never be able to raise it again.”
Andira stared at her in utter shock. Finally, she repeated, “Never? Never as in, not even for one piptick will I be alone in my own mind?”
“You will always know her emotions, and she will always know yours. This is a truly sacred bond. You won’t be able to block it. Not only that, but the connection transcends distance. You’ll be able to feel each other no matter where you are. What you felt yesterday is just a glimpse of what will happen.”
Andira inhaled sharply. “Great Mother! Then we’ll have a very long pre-bond. We need time to adapt.” She chuckled without humor. “Salomen in my mind every tick? No one could adapt to that.”
“Putting off the bonding ceremony won’t make a difference. That has nothing to do with this.”
“But you said our minds will be permanently linked once we—” She stopped as Lanaril shook her head.
“For tyrees the process is different. The bonding ceremony is nothing but ceremony for you; it was created for all the rest of us who need a bond minister to complete the connection. Tyrees have no such need.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that the first time you Share, the connection will be made. Your bond will be complete.”
“Spawn of a fantenshekken! I cannot believe it. Great Mother, this is—I don’t—Fahla!” Andira blew out a breath and rubbed her forehead. In a calmer voice she said, “We’ll have to wait a long time for our Sharing, then. Damn, that will make this so much more difficult.”
“You don’t have the luxury of waiting. You’re carrying the fire of Fahla inside you. Do you think you’re stronger than it is? That fire seeks its union. The empathic flashes will keep getting stronger and easier to set off until you do what it wants. You set this in motion the moment you joined; it can’t be stopped now.”
“But…” Her embarrassment rippled outward. “We haven’t joined.”
Lanaril frowned. “Are you certain?”
After a moment of silence they both laughed.
“Yes, I’m certain. I think I’d remember. It’s only been a few days since we stopped fighting each other. Actually, it hasn’t even been one day—this morning’s fight was the worst of all.”
“I heard it ended well, though.”
They shared a smile before Lanaril began puzzling over this new wrinkle.
“I’ve never read of such a thing,” she said. “This type of bond doesn’t just initialize spontaneously. It’s set off by a physical connection. That’s what allo
ws the empathic centers to recognize each other.”
Andira’s eyes widened. “A physical connection? Would a warmron do it?”
“I suppose it would, but that’s not—” Lanaril stopped. “Really?”
“We shared a warmron three days ago,” Andira admitted. “I initiated it.”
That might have been the most shocking thing Lanaril had heard yet. “And she allowed it?”
“I can’t tell you how it happened, because that’s too personal even for this conversation. But I can tell you that I learned a great deal about warmrons from the Gaians. They share them freely, all their lives, with anyone they want. For them, warmrons can be anything from romantic to gestures of good friendship. I received several as part of our cultural exchange, and once I experienced that, I wondered why we see them only as an artifact of childhood or the province of lovers and bondmates.”
Lanaril could easily imagine it. Andira did tend to look for alternative paths; it was in her nature. It was also what made her a good Lancer. But in this instance, it had not worked in her favor.
“I think you might have answered that question now,” she said.
Andira dropped her head into her hands. “What were the chances?”
“I’m sorry this is so hard for you. A divine bond is supposed to be a joyous process between two people who have already found their way into each other’s arms. But you’ve made yours into an uncontrollable avalanche, even with the best of intentions.”
“Surely it’s not so uncontrollable. We can’t touch without triggering empathic flashes, fine. Then we’ll be careful and not touch each other. That won’t be so difficult. This is still new to us; we’re not ready for a joining yet anyway.”
And still she was trying to find a way around it.
“Not touching will slow the process, yes. But it won’t stop it, and it will make you both miserable. Andira, I don’t think you’re grasping the fact that you are carrying a divine flame. This isn’t like manipulating the Council into doing what you want. You cannot manipulate Fahla. Tyrees aren’t meant to be apart, and your kind of tyree—well, there are stories about those who thought they could deny it or who were forcibly kept apart by evil. They began to lose their mental faculties as the better parts of their minds abandoned them in search of their partners. I don’t think I’m overstating it to say that your ability to continue your life, and to govern as Lancer, depends on completing this bond quickly. If you would deny your tyree, you will also deny your future—and hers.”
In the ensuing silence, Andira took a large gulp of her spirits. “So much from something so simple. If I’d known…”
“You wouldn’t have given her the warmron?”
The fact that she didn’t immediately say no told Lanaril more about this relationship than anything else.
Andira gazed out the window, where the top of the State House towered over the trees. “She needed comfort,” she said quietly. “If you could have sensed what was pouring out of her then… She’s been carrying a heavy load of responsibility while mourning the loss of her mother, and she couldn’t lean on her family, because they’re leaning on her. She was so alone. And yes, I could have offered a palm touch and projection, but it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough.”
Lanaril smiled to herself. She knew exactly why it hadn’t been enough, but for the first time in their friendship, Andira seemed unaware of her own emotions.
The smile dropped as she remembered something else from her readings.
“There’s one more thing you need to be aware of,” she said.
Andira looked back in concern. “And it’s worrying you.”
“Keep in mind that these are just stories. I don’t know how true they are, but given the fact that the old stories described your empathic flashes, yes, I’m worried that this might be an issue. Once you complete your bond, the link may also extend to the physical. There are tales of both tyrees showing symptoms when only one was ill, or physical injuries being transmitted across the bond. There’s even a story of both tyrees dying from a mortal injury to one.”
Andira sucked in a breath. “She’ll be a proxy assassination target.”
“If word of the true nature of your bond gets out…I’m afraid that might be the case.”
“Well, that’s just perfect!” Andira’s voice rose on the last word as she pushed herself out of her chair. “Salomen will hit the farthest moon! She already hates that part of my life. She hates my Guards, she hates the idea of having to even think about power and politics, and I can only imagine what she’ll say if I tell her she can’t go to the shekking seed store without informing her very own Lead Guard first.” She stopped pacing and put her hands on her hips. “This will kill the bond. She’ll never consent to such a life, and even if she did, how could I allow her to make herself as much of a target as I already am?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“I don’t accept that!”
“So you’ll deny the bond? And become mentally crippled when that fire starts to burn out your brain along with your empathic senses? Will you watch her become mentally crippled?”
Andira dropped into the chair and let her head rest on its back. “I’ve dreamed about a tyree bond my whole life. This morning I thought it was a sick joke. Now it seems like a nightmare. What’s next? Does it get worse than nightmare, or is this as bad as it gets?”
Lanaril reached across and took her hand. “Listen to me. This is not a nightmare, it is a gift from Fahla. Do you understand what that means? She chose you for this. She blessed you and Salomen beyond anything I’ve ever seen. You just…hurried her blessing along a bit, so it feels overwhelming right now. But it won’t always feel that way. I have faith that you and Salomen will get through this, and there will come a time when you will embrace this with a full heart. In fact, I’ll lay down a bet right now. I say that within three moons, you are going to walk through that door and tell me that you cannot imagine living without your bond. You’re going to tell me that you can hardly remember a time when you were afraid.”
“I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for Salomen.”
Lanaril smiled. “Bring her with you when you come to tell me I was right.”
CHAPTER 48
Confession
“You must be joking.”
“I wish I were.”
Tal was in her window seat, watching Salomen pace the room. She had flown back to Hol-Opah in time for evenmeal, and though she had fronted her disquiet, apparently her front was already porous. Once the table was cleared, Salomen wasted no time coming to her room and asking for the news.
She was exactly as happy as Tal had predicted.
“This is beyond tolerance! It was only after midmeal that I even began to get comfortable with the idea of you as my tyree. Now I’m supposed to accept that we’re not even normal tyrees?” With a potent glare at Tal, she sank onto her chair. “I can’t believe it. Fahla! From the day you stepped onto my holding—”
“I turned your life upside down? Destroyed your peace of mind? Made you wish you’d never taken Norsen’s place in the delegation?”
“That’s not what I meant to say.”
“Then what did you mean to say? Because I certainly did the first, and I’m almost certain I did the second.”
“But you did not do the third.” Salomen was calmer now. “I can’t regret meeting you. Nothing about my life is even remotely within my control anymore, but I know that you…that we are meant to be here. I just don’t want it to be like this. Not like this, Andira. It’s too much.”
If they hadn’t been in this stupid situation, Tal would have pulled her into a warmron, kissed her, and told her they would both be fine. How ironic that they were fated to be bonded at a deeper level than most Alseans, yet here they sat, a body length apart and afraid to touch each other. Afraid of taking one more step toward
a connection they could not control.
Afraid even to show their emotions, she realized. Both of them were fronting, an instinctive self-protection against the very person they were not supposed to need it with.
“We’re doing this all wrong,” she said, and let go of her front.
Salomen’s eyes widened, her surprise growing when Tal pushed out of the window seat and sat on the floor in front of her chair.
“From the day I stepped onto your holding,” Tal said, “I was fascinated by how different you are here, in your home and on your land. There’s such warmth and depth, and great Goddess, the way you smile at the people you trust…” Her gaze dropped to Salomen’s lips, which held no smile but were at least no longer pressed together in a frustrated line. “I understood that in five moons I’d never seen the real Salomen Opah. I think that’s why I chose to begin our instruction the way I did, by asking to know more about you. You were right, that wasn’t the usual method. I told myself I needed your trust for our training to work, but in truth…I just wanted it. I wanted that warmth you gave to everyone but me.”
“Even though you did your best to keep me on the defensive?”
“I didn’t say I was consistent about it.”
Salomen relaxed slightly, a half-smile finding its way out as she dropped her own front. “I wanted your warmth, too. I never thought I’d get it.”
Tal breathed in the complexity of her emotions and rested a hand on her leg, trusting that clothing would protect them from an empathic flash. “We’re getting a lot of things we never expected, aren’t we?”
“Those might be the truest words you’ve spoken yet.”
“I don’t want it like this either, Salomen. But I think that even if we were not tyrees, our hearts would eventually have spoken to each other.”
Salomen covered her hand. “I think our hearts have already been speaking. I just don’t enjoy being forced to listen before I’m ready.”
“That’s nearly what I told Lanaril, though I might have used more profanity.”