Page 52 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

"What about the harem ladies?" she asked. "The Brotherhood claimed that they were the daughters of gods who Lord Navuh got from his father, the god Mortdh."

"That's partially true. Navuh inherited the harem ladies from his father, and they are over five thousand years old, but they are not the daughters of gods. They are immortals from prominent immortal families of old. There is more to the story, but it's not relevant for what you need to know now."

Sullha was glad that neither Tomek nor Leehy understood a word of English, so even if either of them had overheard what Margaret and Bowen had just told her, they wouldn't understand any of it.

This was too much for her mother to handle. And Tomek was too young.

She would find the words for her mother later, step by step, gently. Tomek's version could wait until he was much older.

"Do the soldiers know?" she asked Bowen. "Or are they fed the same story we were?"

"They are told the same story. The official teaching of Mortdh is that females can't transition because they're unworthy of it. Though I doubt that even Mortdh said anything like that. It was most likely Navuh's idea to cloak his program in a godly decree." Bowen shrugged. "Some of them might work out the truth eventually but, given the brainwashing and the low level of education they get, they'd need to be exceptional to reason that out."

Yaaf was exceptional. Did he know?

The question lodged itself beside all the others. He'd told her about the harem and about Navuh. He'd never told her this. Because he didn't know? Or because he did, and couldn't find a way to say it, or a reason to, when they had both still been trapped?

She needed to ask him, and she needed to see his face when she did.

Sullha straightened. "On a different but related subject, I need to ask you about visiting the eight soldiers that were taken to another location. Yamanu promised that we could. How does it work, though? Who decides?"

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up. "I have this, and I've learned to use it. I even helped Karina and Zohara with theirs. There are pictures of many of the village's residents, but Yaaf and his friends are not in them. I can't call him. I can't even find out if he's well, if the scientists made his medicine, anything." She forced herself to slow down. "Mirumah wants her son. Baruha and Asira want to see Camdor. All the mothers have been asking me, because they think I have the answers, but I don't. Who decides the when and how?"

Bowen studied her for a moment. "I'll find out for you." He rose to his feet. "Let me make a call."

He stepped out onto the front porch and pulled the door shut behind him. Through the window, Sullha watched his back, his free hand moving as he talked, but she could not hear what he was saying.

"Sullha." Margaret touched her arm gently. "I'm sure it will be soon. Bowen will sort it out. Don't worry." She kept talking, filling the wait with chatter about her daughter who was aboutSullha's age and whose name was Wendy. She was married to a guy named Vlad, and Margaret was hoping for grandchildren, but it wasn't easy for immortals, and Wendy had transitioned.

Sullha smiled and nodded in the right places, but her mind had drifted to the enclosure, the human guards, and the venom that was produced in response to either desire or rage.

Immortals bit their partners during sex. That was another bit of new information that should have shocked her, but it paled in comparison to everything else.

She thought about Yaaf's face in the starlight on the boat, all the things he'd chosen to tell her and the one enormous thing he never had. She thought about a building somewhere in a city she couldn't picture, where he was sleeping and waking and taking his injections and maybe aching like she was because he missed her.

The front door opened, Bowen stepped back inside, and Sullha's heart began to pound.

"Good news," he said. "Turns out that the visit has already been discussed and approved. You can go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The word came out as a croak.

"Talk to the others and find out who wants to go. Okidu will drive you to the keep in the morning."

20

YAAF

The punching bag swung back from Number Five's fist, chains rattling overhead, and Yaaf watched the seam along its side, waiting to see if it would split.

It held.

"It's reinforced," Theo said, leaning against the weight rack. "Everything in this gym is built for immortal strength. The bags, the racks, the machines, are all fortified. Though I'm not sure the equipment will hold against your enhanced strength. You will have to find the limits."

Just a day ago, Yaaf's hands hadn't been steady enough to punch that bag, but after the drug regimen resumed, he was ready to test his strength in the clan's gymnasium. The first dose had taken the edge off, eliminating some of the withdrawal symptoms the eight of them had been experiencing to varying degrees; the second dose had calmed most of the jitters and tremors, and by the third dose, the coherence that had been thinning at the edges had solidified.

Dimitri had wanted to wait a day between each shot, but they'd pushed back, and he administered them in eight-hour intervals instead.

There hadn't been any adverse reactions to the accelerated dose administration, and now the hum between them was steady and low, their eight minds working together without effort. The garbled signal clarified.