Ask For It by Gail Faulkner

happen. Now listen to me. Do not hesitate over my body. You have to get out of here.”
     
    “No! Stop. What makes you think it’s not my life required, not Mist Lion blood to prove we have returned?” Sahara argued. “Besides, you can find someone else. My biology is the one that will not allow me to mate another. It’s much more logical that it should be me.”
     
    Tor pulled her into his arms. “Beloved, the statement is written in Leonor Lion script. It’s directed at me. If I choose to sacrifice you, nothing has changed on this planet. Why would an old Mist Lion weapon spare us? It must be my blood on that altar. The ritual it speaks of is one where a life is sacrificed to spare the clan from a deadly battle with another clan. It can only be done by the chieftain or it’s invalid. Do exactly as I say.”
     
    “No! There has to be another way,” Sahara argued.
     
    Tor smiled down into her sincere face. “I don’t think so. The device is very clear and very powerful. It didn’t respond to simple questions. It waited for the one question that was not simple at all. Think about it. It’s not malfunctioning. I suspect male Mist Lions are not as sweet as you. This weapon was programmed to defend female or possibly young Mist Lions from falling back into the hands of Leonor Lions. They even give us the opportunity to prove we have evolved. So be it. The choice is one any male would demand of a killer race. It is the opportunity only offered to warriors by warriors. It is mine to accept.”
     
    “No,” Sahara whispered as she looked into his face.
     
    “Yes,” Tor stated firmly. “This is how it goes and you must do exactly as I tell you. I will lie on the altar top.” He pulled a long knife from his boot. “Bring this down directly in my heart and then run like hell for the flyer and take off as fast as possible. There is no telling what this thing will do next and I want you out of here.”
     
    “I can’t.” Tears rolled down Sahara’s face.
     
    “You will, Sahara. This is important. You have to hold the blade. Look, I’ll help you, but you have to do it. It can’t be a suicide. That is a cowardly act in Leonor society. The most disgraceful thing a warrior can do and would break the ritual, making it invalid. Please, Sahara. Please,” he finished.
     
    “Oh Goddess.” Her arms circled his neck and she clung to him.
     
    Tor held her to him as he slowly sat on the altar then reclined with her lying on top of him. His arms tightened as, his lips in her hair, he told her what had been in his heart since the moment he’d seen her so long ago.
     
    “You are the vessel that holds my soul, Sahara. Biology has nothing to do with my inability to mate another. I will always be with you because you have my heart. This will not change when my body no longer exists. Forever my beloved, loved and cherished. I’m sorry to leave you alone so soon.”
     
    Sahara sobbed into his chest, her arms and legs clinging to him. “Take the knife and kneel beside me. You have to use your body weight behind the thrust to make it one quick slice. I’d really appreciate your not having to do it again.”
     
    She didn’t move. Tor gently grasped her arms and disengaged them. “Now, beloved. It must be now. Do not make this harder than it has to be.”
     
    The wind froze tears on her face. There wasn’t a lot of time before Sahara was unable to do what needed to be done.
     
    Sahara slowly moved to kneel beside him. Taking the knife in her gloved hands, she held it awkwardly.
     
    Holding her hands, he wrapped her fingers around the hilt properly. “Like this,” he instructed. “Hold it above your head. Go up on your knees. Bring your whole body down with the thrust. Drive it in right here.” He tapped his chest to show her. “Do it quick and don’t look at my face. Just turn and run for the flyer. Understand? If you do it right, I’ll live long enough to know if you obeyed me, Sahara. In this cold it