“If it’s the thing you put in your mouth that’s attached to a small cylinder that lets you breathe underwater, then yes, I want a tankoid.”
“Okay. That might be hard to get, though.”
“See what you can do,” I tell her. I may be an okay swimmer now, but I know my limits. Having oxygen in the massive current that will drag us through a wormhole to Earth ups our likelihood of survival, and unlike the Cavars, I have no qualms about using Etharian technology here or on Earth.
“We’ll need rock climbing equipment.”
She shakes her head. “Not if we have flipcarts. They levitate. They can take us straight up.”
I rub my forehead. “Cavars are insane! You know that, right?” Then I say to myself, “Rappelling cliffs that they can just use a flipcart to descend! I am so over it!”
Keenan runs past us in a panic, yelling, “Kricket!” He disappears around the bend in the balcony.
I point at Phlix. “You need inoculations. You’ve never been exposed to the kind of diseases that are on Earth. I can’t have you dying on me.”
“I’ll get what I need. It’s going to cost, though, and take some time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I need to develop a contact among the security team. They seem to have the greatest access in and out of here.”
“Do you need money?” I ask.
“Yes. I have none.”
“Will people barter for things?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
“There’s so much stuff here that probably won’t be missed for a while, if ever. I’ll give you some things that look valuable. Work on getting your vaccines first. We don’t leave until you get vaccinated, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll let you know,” Phlix agrees. We both pause for a moment and look out over the grounds. “We’re really doing this.”
“Yes,” I say. “Just you and me.”
“You’re not planning on anyone else joining us?”
“No,” I reply softly. “It’ll be just us.”
“I don’t even know what it’ll be like not having someone decide every aspect of my future,” she says.
“It will be epic,” I reply and find that I really mean it. I hear Keenan’s pounding feet coming from around the bend of the balcony again. “You can unshadow us now.”
“Done,” she breathes.
Keenan rounds the balcony at a sprint. He slows when he sees us turn to face him. “I was looking for you,” he pants.
I manage to look confused. “Did you need something?” I ask.
“Kyon asked me to remind you of your date this evening. He thinks you should return to your room to dress for it.”
“Thanks, Keenan,” I say. “Maybe you can show me the way there?”
“Of course.”
Turning to Phlix, I ask, “Do you need anything from me before I go?”
“Yes,” she smiles defiantly. “Can you say good-bye to Pike for me if you happen to see him?”
It’s in this moment that I know that we’ll be friends for as long as we draw breath. “It would be my pleasure,” I reply.
“Thank you, Kricket,” she says. We walk to the door of her apartment, and she hugs me farewell at the threshold.
The trip back to my room is uneventful. When we arrive, Keenan precedes me into the suite. He checks around, and I’m surprised to find that Kyon isn’t there. For some reason I thought he would be. Keenan leaves, and I consult Oscil on what I should wear. I change, and when I’m attired in a soft coral-colored dress, I brush my hair and leave it loose. After waiting for more than an hour for Kyon, I decide not to hang out in my room any longer. I leave and go exploring. Walking the garden level, I slip outside and follow the path along the house. I like this perspective, looking through the glass at what’s inside.
Dusk begins to settle on the grounds. Soft lighting coming from one of the rooms along the walkway draws my attention. I see a flickering fire on the far wall facing me. Above it, two crossed swords burn bright with reflected firelight on their steel edges. I touch the handle of a glass door and it opens without me turning it. Kyon is in a large emerald-colored chair by the fire, its gleaming covered buttons make it somehow regal.
I traverse the rune-embroidered carpet. The plank floor creaks as I step on a loose board. The warmth of the lazy fire dances over my skin, drawing me closer to it. I come up to Kyon, but he doesn’t look at me. His hand loosely clutches something. A small, glass hoof sticks out from his fist. I don’t say a word but perch on the matching green chair adjacent to his and watch him. He’s completely oblivious to my presence. It’s as if he’s not here himself.
I test my theory. First, I rise from my seat and go to his. Then I run my fingertips softly down his dark blue shirtsleeve. The fabric is warm beneath my touch. Kyon doesn’t blink; the firelight burns a reflection in his eyes. The dry heat caresses my skin as I slip between Kyon’s knees and stand directly in front of him. My shadow falls over his eyes. No reaction. He stares ahead as if I’m not here. Reaching out, I touch his cheek and course the back of my knuckles over it. I realize that I can kill him with my bare hands right now, because for whatever reason, he can’t stop me.
Lowering myself onto his lap, I curl up and rest my forehead against the cogs of time interlocking a path on his tattooed throat. My eyes fall on the object protruding from his fist. Grasping his hand, I try to ease it open. I can’t. I wait instead.
I know the instant Kyon returns. Electricity runs through me. He inhabits his skin with a gentle buildup of steps. He’s nothing if not control. His muscles tighten. He turns his cheek in confusion; it bumps lightly against the top of my head. I feel him working out the fact that I’m sitting on his lap. His arms bow away from me at first, but then they drift back, wrapping around me. His lips find the top of my head again. He kisses me, breathing against my hair.
My fingertips skim over his closed hand. I gently pry his fingers apart. Sharp points poke my skin. Warm, smooth glass weighs heavy in my hand as I take the object from him. I lift it up. In my open palm is a crystal spix, exactly like the one I’d rescued from Charisma’s collection of Crystal Clear Moments. The inanimate equine sparkles in the firelight.
“So you’re like me?” I ask him. “A genetically engineered freak?”
“I like to think of myself as exceptional.”
I gather a few strands of his hair in my hand. Using the sharp edge of the crystal spix’s horns, I cut his hair. The severed pieces shrivel to ashes while new hair regrows in an instant. I blow the ash from my palm. It floats toward the glowing logs.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” I ask.
“I never would’ve survived if Excelsior knew.”
“How did you keep your gifts a secret from him?” I ask.
“My mother shielded me at first. When I inherited her gift, I was able to do it for myself.”
“What was your mother’s gift?” I ask.
“She could influence others to believe any lie. It made your mother her instant friend. Farling couldn’t lie to Arissa effectively. Which forced my mother to respect yours.”