by Lyn Forester
My eyes narrow on her. “What do you mean by that?”
She shrugs. “He blooms when he is next to you. It makes my attraction toward him uncomfortable, as he is male and he also obviously does not reciprocate.”
I just stare at her. “I’m going to need more explanation on that one.”
She releases a put-upon sigh. “Human relationships are so complicated because you lack a good sense of smell.”
Realization dawns. “This is about compatibility, isn’t it?”
“In part.” She grabs her braid, brushing the puff at the bottom against her cheek. “For halions, we know by scent if we can reproduce together. We are more complicated on that front. Human’s ability to breed with anyone is truly amazing.”
“Stay on topic,” I urge.
She taps the braid against her plump lips. “You smell very nice to me. While we cannot reproduce, I know we would be amazing in bed together. I believe humans call this chemistry.”
My cheeks heat, and I nod.
“When Nikola is near you, his chemistry heightens. When he is near me, it remains the same. He does not desire me, no matter how capable we are of reproducing together.” She straightens, eyes wide. “Not that I would ever reproduce with Nikola. My family would kill him before that happened.”
Alarmed, I straighten. No matter how confusing my feelings toward Nikola are, I don’t want him killed just because Myrrine can breed with him. “Please don’t tell your family you’re compatible with Nikola.”
“I will not, nor will Bastian.” She sighs. “But it would be easier if you accepted your attraction toward him.”
I rear back from her. “Excuse me?”
“Your chemistry also changes when he is near. As it does with the others in your malnupti.” She shakes her head. “It is quite confusing for me why you still refute it, but I keep reminding myself you are only human.”
Curiosity wars with embarrassment. “Does my...chemistry change when I’m near you?”
A small smile plays around her lips. “You are the first bloom of spring after a long winter without color.”
I frown. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I will let you decide for yourself if you find me attractive.” The smile grows. “It is the human way of doing things, is it not?”
I cross my arms under my breasts in annoyance, which she ignores.
“So, if you have not been out embracing your malnupti, where have you been?” Her lower lip pokes out. “Were you truly avoiding me?”
“Not intentionally.” I contemplate how far to take this whole trust thing.
Telling her about Nikola and Garrett only puts me at risk, but if I tell her about Declan and our suspicions about Mr. Blue and Mr. Black, it could put her at risk, too.
My brows inch together, and I hold her gaze, trying to impart the seriousness of my next words. “If I tell you, it could hurt you, maybe Bastian, too. I don’t want to involve you without you first being aware of the danger.”
She studies me, the air growing tense between us. “Is this information that can impact your safety? And will telling me help you or cause hindrance?”
I shake my head. “I honestly don’t know if you can help, but it may impact your position as an ambassador in the future.”
Slowly, she nods. “Then I would like to hear it.”
Making It Work
On Monday after class, we all gather in the study room at the back of the library and pull up a map of the Councilitorium.
“What was the party like?” Myrrine asks as she stares at the blueprint and wiggles with excitement, thrilled to be in on the espionage, as she puts it. “Who all was there?”
“Everyone who makes decisions and finances the city,” Felix growls before he turns to stare at me. “Tell me again why you brought Pinkie in on this?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “We went over this last night.”
After I vaporized off the debris from my impromptu tryst with Felix under the tree yesterday, we gathered back in Nikola’s room. Felix and Connor weren’t thrilled when I brought Myrrine and Bastian along, the behemoth having returned before I finished telling Myrrine what was going on. When we summarized everything for him, he hadn’t been pleased with putting Myrrine at risk, but she convinced him she would help with or without his permission.
We’d then had to convince Connor, Nikola, and Felix when we reached Nikola’s room. Felix and Connor weren’t thrilled I brought her in, but Nikola pointed out that having an outsider’s perspective couldn’t hurt. After all, Myrrine was studying to be an ambassador, so she had more training on government movements than we do, which made Myrrine preen and Felix scowl. Connor simply nodded in acceptance.
Nikola had then spent a frustrating night trying to teach Felix how to hack, a skill he apparently lacked the patience to master, which put him in a foul mood. I think it might be the first time he came up against something his intelligence couldn’t instantly grasp.
But all of us in Nikola’s room, with Myrrine and Bastian added into the mix, made things too tight, especially with Myrrine still trying to stay as far from Nikola as possible.
So, we agreed to use the library today as an alternative. The room we found before is a perfect size for our expanded group, and lucky us, no one else seems to know or care about it.
Myrrine shakes back her pink hair and glares at Felix. “I’m here for my perspective and because I know more about the government than you do.”
“This isn’t the colonies; the stacked cities run differently,” Felix grumps.
She lifts her chin, purple swirls forming in her cheeks. “I have studied humans since I was twelve. I think I know a thing or two.”
Felix leans across the table. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.” She gives a decisive nod.
Apprehension rolls through me at his evil smile. “Condoms are a real form of contraception.” I drop my head into my hands with a groan, but Felix doesn’t stop there. “And when humans bite each other, it’s not because they want to get their partner pregnant, it’s because—”
I slap the table with a loud bang. “Can we please not talk about this!”
“I concur,” Bastian rumbles.
“Me, too,” Connor puts in.
Nikola looks speculative. “I wouldn’t mind—”
“No!” I point at the folding-port. “Human reproduction doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” Felix drums his fingers against the table. “Putting aside how humans reproduced, the High Council seats are all hereditary. If Declan’s line died out, that would cause the Houses below his to all move up one and make way for a new Thirteenth House. Who would take over for House Scottsdale?”
We stare at each other blankly.
Since the Thirteen Houses began, it’s always been the same families. Sometimes, a shift in power changes the pecking order, but that’s it. If an heir died unexpectedly, a new heir was simply created.
In the past, if creating a new heir wasn’t an option, then someone from the extended family was tapped.
But years of population control changed that. About a hundred years ago, when living in the stacked cities became cramped and health issues abounded, a law was implemented that allowed only one child per family. Like Connor and Felix, twins are a loophole in natural births, but the only reason Declan’s parents were allowed to have a second child is because his older brother wasn’t expected to survive. The law helped ease the burden of overpopulation, but also left a gap in this kind of situation. There’s no extended family to pull in if the current Arrington line suddenly dies.
“There have to be safeguards,” Connor says at last. “Contingencies for if something like this happens.”
“A vote for the new Thirteenth House?’ Myrrine suggests, and we all shake our heads.
“Too much room for free thought,” Nikola explains. “The High Families would never allow it.”
“If the Arring
ton House has DNA on file, they could produce a new heir.” Felix points out. “But who would act as guardian?”
Nikola glances at me. “In the event no other guardian is available, the act of mentorship falls to the First House.”
Uneasy, I glance at the others. “My grandmother would have to come out of retirement. It’s not unheard of, if the current Councilor passes before the demi-Councilor is ready.” Then I shake my head. “But the Arrington House has always believed in natural birth. Declan said that might change now that his parents are dead, but that’s still two years off from being an option.”
Anger clouds Felix’s face. “So, what, instead of whoring his brother out for an heir, Dominick’s just going to rip one out of him?”
“He’s an untenable situation,” Nikola murmurs. “All the more reason for him to leave Leton.”
Felix scowls at him. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sensing Felix’s obvious desire for a fight, Nikola’s lips press into a thin line, and he remains silent.
“We’re off topic,” Myrrine interjects into the tense silence. “If there are no more Arringtons left, how does a replacement get chosen?”
Grim silence fills the room before Nikola clears his throat. “This is all supposition. Besides, how does killing the previous Mr. Blue and Mr. Black tie in with killing the Arrington House? What’s the link?”
“Maybe there’s an extended relative hidden away somewhere, waiting to step up as soon as the opportunity arises?” Myrrine suggests. “Is there a breeder for the High Houses who tracks lineage?”
“I’ll add it to the list of possibilities.” Nikola sighs in frustration. “This just adds more suspects.”
“Then we focus on finding the poisoner. That should give us a place to start.” I nod to the open folding-port. “Who had surveillance on the event that we can tap into?”
After spending most of the night in the library, we were able to identify four attendees whose recorders covered the majority of the Councilitorium, one of them being Mr. Blue. Not wanting to be caught snooping into the leader of the human and halfbreed Peace Keepers, we tried searching for other recorders that cover the same spots, even if it meant more targets, but came up empty-handed.
Felix was ready to hit Mr. Blue right away since we already suspect him, but the rest of us reined him in. We decided to start with the easiest target first and work up from there.
Nikola was able to hack into House Damba to steal their surveillance videos from the night of the party.
With hours of footage to review from multiple cameras, we agree to take turns watching. Thanks to Declan, we have a loose time frame of when Ashley and Dominick Arrington slipped away for their separate liaisons, so we don’t have to watch the recordings from the beginning.
Even so, it’s a lot of footage, and our time is divided between classes, working on our group projects, and keeping up general appearances with our peers and teachers. It makes everything so much more complicated. Especially since we’re not even sure what we’re looking for.
Every minute that ticks away puts Declan in more danger. It leaves everyone on edge, with tempers running short as we continue to come up against dead ends. We don’t know what we’re doing, not really, but we only have each other to trust.
Tuesday after class, we hit the end of the video feed gained from House Damba. We now know which directions Ashley and Dominick took when they left, and who went in and out of those halls before and after, but the cameras don’t cover past the main ballroom.
Nikola settles down to hack into the camera that covers Dominick’s hall first. The hall Ashley went down only has coverage through Mr. Blue’s surveillance and only Felix thinks it’s a good idea to try to crack that system open.
In the meantime, Connor attempts to look up poisons and their symptoms on Nikola’s personal tablet, while Felix, Myrrine, and I investigate the new Mr. Blue’s personal history under the guise of research for our term papers.
Connor and I take turns sharing the palm-port, our only lifeline to Declan. Felix still refuses to speak to him, though he asks how he’s doing at breakfast every morning, as if he can’t help himself and struggles to limit his inquiries. His anxious energy continues to grow, but he hasn’t returned to my room to sleep, and I haven’t invited him.
I think we’re both hesitant after what happened beneath the tree. If we lay in the same bed together, the sparks that jump between us will ignite, and neither of us are ready for that. But I worry about how he’s doing alone at night. Is he crashing in Connor’s room? Or Nikola’s? Or is he suffering alone with the nightmares that still plague his sleep?
That night, I take the palm-port from Connor and ditch everyone to hide out in the grassy field behind the Entertainment Hall.
It's not technically hiding, they know where I am, but they also know I need some alone time. Even Myrrine's bubbly personality wanes in the face of our inability to find a lead.
Logically, it's only been a few days, but as children of the elite, we're all used to things coming easy to us, with the idea of failure not even on the radar. But now, when failure can't be allowed, we've come up against a brick wall.
This experience is eye-opening on many levels. I don’t want to be the kind of councilor who expects everything to be handed to me. Who relies on other people to solve issues without any personal effort. Who can’t help someone I love when they need it because I’ve never been taught to do things for myself.
I settle in the grass, my back against the Entertainment Hall and knees drawn up. The grassy field spreads out before me, the stars overhead peeking in and out between clouds.
Propping the palm-port on my knees, I press the button for Declan, needing to see his face, to know our inability hasn’t led to his death.
As the device searches for him, his still image appears on the screen, and I trace the strong line of his jaw, the thick eyebrows pinched together in concentration. His dark-brown hair sticks up in places, as if he ran his hands through it. He looks younger, though still familiar. Without the tension of responsibility weighing him down. His golden-eyes stare off to the side, unaware his photo was being captured.
I think Felix added the image to the palm-port, and it makes me wonder what other images he has hidden away. My family never condoned photos except for the family gallery or publicity, and being alone growing up, I never got in the habit of taking them. What did I have to record in life? My folding-port? My stuffed sky-skipper? My tutors? Certainly not Father or Grandmother.
But now that I have people I care about, I suddenly feel the lack. What if Declan had died? What would I have to remember him by? Old racing vids where his face was covered? Media shots where he stood in the background while his brother gave speeches?
In my hands, the palm-port flashes a message, Recipient not located, and falls dark.
Disappointed, I let the device fall to my lap as I rest my head against the rough bricks behind me and stare up at the night sky.
I'm not ready to return to the confines of the dorms, or the tension of Nikola's room, where Connor went to check if Nikola was able to locate the next batch of surveillance recordings. I could message Felix to meet me for a game of 8-Ball, but the idea makes me anxious. It feels wrong to spend time on frivolous activities with what's going on right now.
I take a deep breath of grass scented air, promising myself I'll go back to help the others in a few minutes. I just need a moment to let the tension ease away.
Night inside the glass dome holds a stillness, an almost muffled quality. The air regulators ensure good airflow, but once the suns set and the system no longer fights the heat of their nearness, the breeze drops to almost nothing. Weeknights are spent studying and resting for classes the next day, so most students go inside at night. With my eyes closed, it almost feels like I'm alone up here, the same way I was alone at Lonette Manor.
That was an easier time, with my days mapped out for me, my only worry about how I would
slip out to the disc-bike races when Skittles sent me a new location. But I wouldn’t go back to that life, no matter what heartache and worry it might save me. I’m finally living, and while it’s scary, it’s more meaningful, too. Richer for all its uncertainty.
The palm-port jumps in my lap, and my eyes fly open, only to half-shut at the glare from the bright screen.
My heart trips to find Declan's image filling the screen, and I fumble to accept the call. As soon as I hit Accept, his image comes to life, the younger version of himself replaced by his tired expression.
When he sees me on the other end of the call, a warm smile spreads over his lips. "Sparks, it's you."
"Hey, Dec." I return his smile with one of my own. "How are things going on your end? Still surviving?"
"I'm starting to wish I weren't," he mutters as he glances over his shoulder.
His device shifts, and I catch a glimpse of the room he stands in. Clothes hang along the wall, while a doorway in the background appears to lead into a bathroom.
I frown at the scene. "Are you in a closet?"
He turns back. "It's the only place I can get any privacy. Dominick's regaining energy by the day and wants to be brought up to date on everything that's happened politically while he was out. I barely have time to sleep. I'm sharing my bedroom with a couple of the staff who were brought in to help field calls while Dominick was on vacation."
"Share your room?" My frown deepens. "Arrington Manor is huge. Surely there's space?"
A muscle in his jaw jumps. "Staff don't need their own quarters. Our rooms are only for sleeping."
Anger burns through me. "Your brother's an asshole."
"This is why I can't stay, Sparks.” His eyes plead with me to understand. "Since our parents died, it's only gotten worse. The way Dominick runs the House will break me. Sometimes, I think that's his goal."
My heart aches for him. At least Connor treats Felix like an equal, no matter his position. Dominick seems hellbent on reminding Declan he's not, nor will he ever be, anything but a servant.
