Falling for Kindred Claus

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Oh, I love your dress!” Lisa said, smiling at Lambada. “It’s gorgeous!”

  “And I like yours as well.” Lambada smiled back. “In fact, you both look lovely. Natillus and I are honored to escort you to the Feast of All Feelings. Come.”

  They left the room and went down another long series of tunnels which broadened into a large corridor filled with many Chorkays. Lisa looked around with interest at the people—all with skins in subtly different shades of blue and all with chewchies sitting on their heads or riding on their shoulders. Some were dressed formally as she and her party were, but many appeared to be dressed for work in clean but serviceable robes.

  The Chorkays all moved through the tunnel in a mass but there was none of the rudeness you often saw in a crowd of people on Earth, Lisa thought. Instead, people smiled and chatted to each other and seemed genuinely friendly.

  What a nice bunch of people, she thought as someone smiled at her and she returned the smile. She and Asher were getting a lot of curious stares but no one was rude to them because they looked different. In fact, many of the children seemed fascinated by them.

  “Look, Mama,” Lisa heard one little boy who looked about five say to his mother as they passed. “Those funny people don’t have any chewchies! What happened to them?”

  “I don’t know, my love. Maybe they hide their chewchies away,” his mother said.

  “Or maybe they aren’t old enough to get one yet,” the little boy said. “I’m getting mine soon, right Mama?”

  “On your next name day, my love,” she promised him. “We’ll go to a hatching and then you shall have your very own.”

  Her own chewchie—a bright red, fluffy little creature—ran down her own shoulder and sat on her son’s head for a moment, as though pretending to be his. Then it chattered away at him, leaning over to look him in the face and shake one long finger—doing an impression of his mother scolding him.

  The boy laughed and reached up to stroke the little animal’s long tail carefully with one finger—clearly he knew enough to respect someone else’s pet—if that was what the chewchies were. Lisa still wasn’t clear about that.

  In fact, she saw many of the Chorkays who appeared to be conversing with their chewchies. Not just saying, “Who’s a good boy?” like you would with a dog, but holding what seemed to be long and meaningful conversations. The chewchies chattered back in their high-pitched voices but Lisa couldn’t tell if they were speaking actual words or just making animal chatter.

  “Ah—here we are—the entrance to the palace,” Lambada said, and Lisa looked up and saw that the broad tunnel had forked into two and the second tunnel appeared to be lined with gold and was barred by a high metal gate.

  Two Chorkay guards were standing at attention, each holding long pike-like weapons with sharp spikes on the end. Natillus went up to them and showed something that appeared to be an engraved invitation and pointed at Lisa and Asher. After a moment, the guard nodded and their entire party was admitted to the golden tunnel which housed the palace.

  Thirty-Six

  “Wow, this is amazing!” Lisa murmured, looking around at the golden walls of the tunnel. They gleamed mellowly in the diffuse light which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

  Privately, Asher agreed with her. If he had been from a primitive society which valued wealth above all else, the gold-plated walls with their elaborate jeweled murals of the Chorkay God crowning what must be the Potentate, would have deeply impressed him.

  “It reminds me of Ancient Egypt,” Lisa whispered to him as they walked along, their feet echoing in the richly appointed tunnel. “Like the palace of the pharaoh or something like that.”

  Asher hadn’t studied too much of Earth’s history so he wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Maybe this “pharaoh” was another mythical figure like Satan Claus he speculated. He was about to ask Lisa when they came to another set of guards and another gate—this one even grander than the first with curving golden curlicues studded with glittering gems. Natillus held out their invitation again and they were waved through into the palace proper.

  The tunnel widened out here into a vast cavern which housed a palatial structure of gleaming golden domes and high, arching doorways. The palace floors were carpeted in a rich scarlet moss that looked a little like a river of blood, Asher thought, frowning. Of course, it looked very grand with the golden halls but he wondered why the Chorkays hadn’t decided to go with their usual Sacred Blue. Maybe the floor moss didn’t grow in that color? Or maybe it was considered too holy to walk upon?

  Before he could inquire, they were led into a vast banqueting hall with high, arching marble pillars and a long, low table laid out down the center of the room.

  “Oh, look at all this!” Lisa whispered, her eyes wide with appreciation and awe. Asher remembered her saying that she loved going to different places she’d never been before—this certainly qualified. He didn’t know if he had ever seen a more richly laid table and it was already over half full of Chorkay nobles, all dressed in expensive-looking formal wear and talking amongst themselves while their chewchies hopped from head to head, exploring.

  “Your seat will be here,” Natillus informed them, leading them right up near the head of the table. “It is a place of honor,” he added. “Lambada and I are a little further down on your right.”

  Asher and Lisa got seated on the firm, mossy mounds that served for seats at the low table. There was a space under the table itself where they put their legs—though it was a bit of a tight fit for someone with legs as long as Asher’s. Luckily, there was no one seated directly across from him so he was able to stretch out, at least a little.

  There was no one across from Lisa either but that changed the next moment. Ambassador Ba’deal of the Southern Continent came swaggering over and plopped himself in the chair directly opposite her.

  “Why hello again, my dear,” he purred, smiling at her much like a hungry man might smile at an enticing cut of meat. “Fancy us sitting so close to each other like this at the feast! How ever are you?”

  Asher saw Lisa’s face blanch but she lifted her chin and answered bravely enough.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  He noticed she didn’t say anything else or try to make small talk. She turned pointedly away from the Ambassador and began conversing with the Chorkay woman on her right.

  Asher wasn’t quite so able to ignore the male, who was wearing long purple robes that matched his skin color and a smug expression. He glared at Ba’deal, wondering exactly what he had tried with Lisa before Asher had stopped him.

  “Why, Emissary Asher of the Kindred, why so glum?” the Ambassador had the nerve to say. “You’re staring at me like you’d like to kill me—is there some reason for this piece of rudeness or is it just how your people behave all the time?”

  “You know perfectly well why I’m staring at you,” Asher growled. “And you’d do better not to talk to me—or to Lisa. She is mine.”

  “As you said last night.” Ambassador Ba’deal bowed his head and his orange, scaly chewchie hissed at Asher.

  Asher felt like hissing back—or like dragging the bastard across the table and beating him bloody. But this was neither the time nor the place for such a display. All the guests appeared to be seated and it seemed that the feast was about to begin. The only empty chair was at the head of the table. A broad, golden one with a padded cushion of Sacred Blue embroidered with golden thread. It was clearly a throne and quite big enough to seat two or even three people comfortably, Asher thought.

  Suddenly a trilling sound a bit like a trumpet rang out and a loud voice proclaimed, “Please stand for the entrance of our esteemed Older Potentate, Y’res the Third and for her successor, Y’res the Fourth.”

  Two Chorkays entered the banqueting hall, both flanked by guards. The first was an older female in long, flowing robes of Sacred Blue. It was clear that her skin had used to be the same color as well but now it had a decid
edly grayish cast to it and her hair was almost completely silver. The chewchie sitting on her head appeared decrepit. It barely moved but only rode there with a dull look in its tiny eyes. The guards on either side of the Older Potentate—for so she must be—helped her gently and respectfully to the table where she stood on the right side of the double-wide throne chair and looked over the assembled crowd.

  In contrast, the New Potentate was the picture of youth and health, Asher thought. She had a youthful, glowing complexion which was a brilliant Sacred Blue and all her garments were of the exact same color. Her eyes, too, were the same blue as Lisa’s he saw and remembered the high priest saying how rare they were.

  She walked regally, her head upright, though bare except for a Sacred Blue chewchie. It was the Old Potentate who still wore the elaborate golden crown around her temples, which Asher assumed she would transfer at some time during the day’s festivities. The New Potentate flowed into position beside her predecessor, a cool smile on her face as she nodded at the assembled diners at the feast.

  “Wow,” Lisa breathed in his ear, leaning close to speak softly. “I didn’t know their Potentate was a woman!”

  “I didn’t either but it makes sense,” Asher murmured back.

  “Oh? How do you mean?” Lisa asked.

  “Well, the Chorkay seem to be a peaceful and prosperous people,” he explained. “They aren’t warlike and they use their resources to enrich the lives of their people, rather than paying for expensive conquests. They seem generally happy and contented—a hallmark of a society either ruled by a female leader, or one who reveres a female Goddess, as we Kindred do.”

  “Oh—that does make sense.” Lisa nodded. “Look—I think the high priest is going to make a speech.”

  In fact, the high priest—the same one they had met the night before—was standing at the head of the table, beside the Old Potentate. He was dressed resplendently in an even more elaborate golden breast plate which shone with diamonds and rubies and emeralds and a Sacred Blue cloak made of long, fluffy feathers.

  “Greetings, noble citizens of the Northern Continent of our lovely planet of Helios Beta, as well as honored guests from distant lands,” he began in a sonorous, booming voice that echoed in the vast golden feasting hall. “Today all of you will be fortunate to witness history in the making. For fifty cycles, our dear Potentate, Y’res the Third, has ruled us well and we have prospered under her hand,” he continued, nodding to the Old Potentate, who nodded her head back in a queenly bow. “But now she is weary of bearing our burdens and has decided to pass her crown on to her successor, Y’res the Fourth.” Here he nodded at the New Potentate, who also inclined her head in a stately manner.

  “Of course,” the high priest went on, “As you all well know, there is only one female born in every generation who has both the Sacred Blue skin and the Sacred Blue eyes to match. When such a child is brought forth, it is known that she is to be the next ruler of our great land and she is taken to the palace at once for instruction and safe-keeping.

  “Nothing must be allowed to happen to the child for if she dies, we as a nation are left bereft and leaderless when the older Potentate goes to be with Thufar. Likewise, nothing must befall our older ruler before the younger one is ready to lead or she will be left without an advisor during the critical first years of her leadership.”

  “So it is,” the high priest continued, “That the Old Potentate and the new Potentate are never in the same place at the same time at once—for if both were to perish, than we as a nation would surely perish with them. So now you see why you are witnessing history—here at The Feast of All Feelings, you may see both our gracious rulers in proximity to each other, as they have never been before and never will be again. At the end of the Feast and Coronation, each will be taken to their respective apartments in separate parts of the Palace, where they will communicate only via their chewchies for the rest of their lives.”

  Asher wondered how this communication was possible. Did the two chewchies run back and forth across the palace, carrying notes to one another? But the high priest was talking again, so he turned his attention to the head of the table.

  “Before you,” the priest was saying, “You each have seven glasses, filled with the distilled essence of the emotions each Potentate goes through as she rules our great nation.”

  Asher saw Lisa look at the glasses in front of her doubtfully. They were clear crystal with gold etching—each about the size of a shot glass—and all filled with different colored liquids. He had a similar array in front of his own place setting—which didn’t include any plate or silverware, he noted—as did everyone at the long, low dining table.

  “Join me now,” the high priest said, reaching down and lifting a glass filled with grass green liquid, “In partaking of the emotions of our rulers as the Old Potentate passes the responsibility of our nation to the New Potentate.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Lisa looked in disappointment at the glasses ranged in front of her. They were filled with vividly colored liquids—grass green, dark, inky blue, brilliant yellow, burnt orange, deep red, bright pink, and pearly gray—and of course they looked interesting. But she’d been hoping for feast food and instead, it seemed like all they were going to get was a bunch of weird drinks.

  She wondered if they were alcoholic but a quick sniff let her know they weren’t. So what were they then, she wondered? The head priest had said they were “distilled emotions” but how could you put emotions in a glass and drink them?

  “Join with me now,” the high priest said, still holding the glass of grass-green liquid. “In tasting the excitement a young Potentate feels when she knows that the hour of her coronation draws near.”

  He knocked back the entire shot glass of bright green at once—which was how everyone at the table seemed to be drinking as well.

  Lisa was a little more careful. She took a sip at first but nothing happened.

  “Excuse me,” the Chorkay noblewoman who was seated beside her said. “But you must drink the entire glass at once to feel the effects. And,” she went on in a whisper, “It is considered an affront to the Potentates if you do not.”

  “Oh, sorry!” Quickly, Lisa drained the green liquid and sat the fine crystal shot glass back down on the table.

  Then it hit her—Excitement! But not just any old excitement. This was the same feeling you got when you were a kid and Christmas was almost here. She wanted to bounce in her seat, she was so filled with anticipation. This was amazing!

  “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, turning to Asher. “I can’t believe this—I can hardly sit still!”

  “I know—I feel the same.” His green eyes seemed to be glowing and he grinned broadly. All around them, people up and down the table were talking animatedly as the green drink hit them all at the same time.

  Then, as quickly as the emotion had come, it faded, leaving Lisa wanting more.

  “Oh, it’s gone,” she said, disappointed. “Well, that was over fast.”

  “I suppose it’s not meant to last forever,” Asher remarked. “After all, we have six more glasses to get through.”

  “And now,” the high priest said, raising his voice to be heard over the chatter of the diners. “Raise the next glass with me…” Here he raised the shot glass filled with inky blue drink. “And experience the fear a young Potentate has when she knows that the mantle of responsibility has fallen upon her and the country is solely in her care.”

  He downed the inky blue drink and so did everyone else at the table—including Lisa.

  She wondered, apprehensively, if she was going to feel a terrible weight of responsibility, which must be how the Potentate felt—like the weight of the entire world was resting on her shoulders.

  Instead, she felt an awful surge of stark terror—even worse than she’d felt the night before when she’d had the flashback to last Christmas Eve.

  “Oh m-my G-g-god,” she stammered, so frightened her teeth were chattering. “It’
s t-terrible! It’s Cameron—he’s c-coming for me! And this time he’s going to kill me!”

  “No!” Asher gathered her to him, pulling her close so Lisa could bury her face in his broad chest. “No, I won’t let him—I won’t let him hurt you!” he growled and she realized through her own haze of terror what Asher was most afraid of was losing her.

  He squeezed her tightly and she pressed against him, trying to fight the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

  It’s just the drink, she told herself over and over again. It’s just the drink—it’s not real. It’s NOT REAL!

  The fear faded eventually, though it seemed to take a long time to go. But even when she felt it was finally gone, Lisa still didn’t want to move. She felt safe in the big Kindred’s arms—his warm, masculine, spicy scent smelled like safety and home.

  If only I could stay with him forever, I’d be safe, she thought. Safe and cared for. Safe and loved…

  But where had that thought come from? Slowly, she made herself straighten up.

  “Sorry,” she murmured to Asher, who was still looking at her intently. “I, uh, guess I freaked out a little.”

  “I think we all did,” he murmured back. “I certainly hope we don’t have to go through any more emotions like that last one.”

  “I hope not either!” Lisa said fervently.

  But luckily, when the high priest held up the next shot glass—filled with brilliant neon yellow drink, he said, “Join me now in tasting the joy of a successful Potentate when she knows she has brought our nation safety and prosperity.”

  That sounded like a nice, if somewhat stuffy emotion, but Lisa looked doubtfully at the bright yellow drink which looked like highlighter ink. Was she going to be overwhelmed and freak out again? She hoped not. She wished in a way she could be excused from drinking the yellow liquid, but she was certain that would give great offense to the Chorkays.