A Blue Star Rising

by Cecilia Randell

  He stared at her as she tackled Beast’s hindquarters. Then he laughed, but not like she’d seen him laugh before. This was a release of emotion more than an expression of humor. He ended up bent nearly double, face red.

  She walked past him to gather the hard brush and slapped him on the shoulder. “Pull yourself together. I do want to know who this person is.” She paused with her fists on her hips, the brush gripped in one hand. “But only when you’re ready to tell me.”

  His laughter died away. “Pet, you are good for the soul.”

  “Thank you.” She resumed her grooming. “And don’t call me ‘pet.’”

  “But you’re so small. I could fit you in my pocket.”

  She bared her teeth at him, but didn’t respond otherwise. That his words echoed the same ones he’d spoken the day they met was not lost on her.

  He laughed, but it was softer. “I’ll be back in ten-day. Don’t get killed or kidnapped before then.” He stepped back then paused. “Thank you Blue.”

  Then he was gone. Blue finished Beast’s grooming as the demon-mount purred at her. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but there had been a shift between her and Felix, as though she’d finally gotten a glimpse of the man beneath the mercenary.

  “You’ve been down here long enough.”

  She jumped.

  Mo’ata leaned against the door to Beast’s stall. “We’ll need to get a ride in when we get back from the university.”

  Had she been lost in thought that long? Beast hadn’t seemed to mind the extra brushing, though. And his coat gleamed, even in the low light.

  Her stomach growled and Mo’ata laughed. “We will pick up something on the way. I have a feeling you and Forrest will need to know all the best places to stop for meals.” He held out a slim card, about half the size of a credit card. “I have also set each of you up with an account. There is not much in there, but there should be enough for you to pay for transports and the occasional food stall.”

  She put the brush away and dusted off her hands before taking the card from him. “I still feel weird, you paying for everything.”

  “Do not. It is my duty to see to the welfare of the prida. And we will all contribute in our own ways. As Dean Gravin said, there is time now.”

  The edges of the card dug into her skin as she gripped it. “Then why do I feel like I’m running out of time?” she murmured.

  As she articulated the feeling, it grew. But she had no idea why it was even there. Could it be the new case? The fact that Felix and Levi were not with their team, at least on the surface? That felt wrong, but she didn’t think it was the source of the restless urgency that paced like a nervous hyena in the back of her mind. Maybe it was just new school nerves? Or the strain of needing to learn so much so fast? Or… a combination of all of those.

  Beast shifted restlessly in his stall, and she went back to him, running her hand down his side, then up his neck and around to rub between his horns. Gradually the feeling faded until it was no more than a hum in the back of her mind. And then she shoved it all down.

  Despite how much had already been accomplished, there was a lot to get done today. And first on the list was getting Forrest into the university.

  Chapter 13

  FORREST

  Forrest swallowed and gripped his sketchbook. Mo’ata had sent off for the items they’d left back at the Dramil camp, now that they’d found a more permanent place to live, but they had yet to arrive. He’d really been hoping to show the head of the art department the picture he and Derrick had worked on together.

  Standing in a small, wood-paneled waiting room, he rethought his decision to not have Blue and Mo’ata come up with him. He’d wanted to do this on his own and had asked them to meet him when he was through. Now that he was here, he wouldn’t have minded a pep talk.

  And that’s why I wanted to do this on my own. All his life, Forrest had had Derrick to back him up, ready to take the lead when it came to their work. And though Blue and Mo’ata were not artists, it would be all too easy to lean on them. Just as Blue was starting to take charge of her life, he needed to take charge of his.

  He acknowledged that part of his motivation was Blue and her relationships with the other guys. Not that he begrudged them, more that he needed to know for himself who he was on his own so that he could know who he was as part of the family. The prida.

  He shook his head. If someone asked, he wasn’t sure he could explain it. Hell, he couldn’t even explain it to himself, he just knew he needed to do this.

  Studying the mural on the wall opposite him, he struggled to get his thoughts under control. It depicted a foreign landscape, one of a brilliant jungle beside cold stone cliffs. The style was similar to impressionism, but bolder.

  “Forrest Decatur?”

  He focused on the young woman before him, clad in a loose tunic and holding a data pad. She had a delicate face, dark hair, and eyes that reminded him of Blue. “Yes?”

  She smiled and held out a hand. “I am Mika, Mr. Rinor’s assistant for the term. This is the usual greeting for someone of your region on Earth, yes?”

  Forrest took her hand in his, hoping his nerves didn’t show. “Yes, it is. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, realizing he spoke in English. “I mean, thank you,” he repeated in Common.

  Her smile widened, and she didn’t release his hand. “Oh, it is no problem. I have always been interested in all things Earth. It’s a bit of a hobby of mine.”

  He withdrew his hand and gripped his sketchbook in both hands.

  “Right. Follow me.” She spun on her heel and led the way to a pair of solid wood doors. She held a card to a scanner on the right, and the doors whooshed open, revealing an office that matched the waiting room—wood paneling and light walls, but bare of any decoration. A stocky man, slightly older with dark hair, occupied a desk in the middle of the room.

  “Mr. Rinor?” Mika drew the man’s attention. “This is Forrest Decatur, your morning appointment.”

  The man gestured to a seat across the desk, and Forrest took it. Mika moved to a smaller desk to the side of the room. It was more of a table than a desk, like one of those card tables that were brought out when you were trying to find a place to stick the kids. Supplies were scattered over the surface until you could barely see the top, unlike Mr. Rinor’s, which was nearly clear.

  “You brought samples of your work?”

  Forrest nodded and held out his sketchbook. Mr. Rinor flipped through it, his face giving no indication of his thoughts. Forrest knew this wasn’t really his best work. Most of that had been left behind on Earth. Mika sent him a small, encouraging smile from where she sat shuffling papers.

  Forrest tipped his head in acknowledgment and returned his attention to the man who was the key to at least the next few months of his life, if not longer. He wanted this. Almost as much as he wanted Blue. The pieces they’d seen on their mini-tour of Tremmir just before they returned to Earth had stuck with him. Though that time was shadowed with shock and sorrow, he’d never forgotten the sheer brilliance of what the Karranians had created. The materials, the colors, the techniques—all of it was something he was sure he wouldn’t be able to learn on Earth. Not to the level he could here.

  Just another reason he was glad she had decided to come back. But he’d also downplayed his need of this for fear that Blue would do something she’d later regret in order to get him in—like accept the Fausts’ offer or Zeynar’s money.

  He brought her face to mind, drawing it line by line on a mental canvas. Her brows were drawn together, and worry wrinkled her brow. He didn’t like to see her like that, so he smoothed it out and conjured up a grin. The one she wore most frequently when she was telling him to “hush” after he’d teased her. Better.

  It was a good smile, tipping her lips up and reaching her eyes. She’d probably have wrinkles when she got older. Cute little baby crow’s feet just at the corners of her eyes and grooves on her cheeks. They would be like the maps of h
er smile.

  I want to be there to see those come about. Not just imagine them, but see them.

  Mr. Rinor cleared his throat, and Forrest’s attention sharpened on him. The arts director tapped a page toward the back of the sketchbook, then flipped it to show Forrest. “Do you have any more like this?”

  It was a study he’d done of the pool on Padilra with the mountains rising in the back. He’d stylized the shapes, similar to the way he and Derrick had used to work together. It was also very similar to his tattoo. He shot a glance at Mika, wondering if what he was about to do would be rude or if he should ask her to leave. He had no idea how the people of Tremmir felt about guys whipping off their shirts.

  “Um. Sort of. No drawings. I have one, but it’s still on its way here. But I have a tattoo that a cousin and I designed together in the same style. It’s not wholly my own work, but much of it is.” He hoped his Common didn’t come out too garbled.

  Mr. Rinor waved his hand. “Let me see it.”

  Forrest’s gaze drifted to Mika once more, and their eyes met.

  The art director saw it. “Boy, we are artists. We know the human body.”

  He flushed. “Sorry. I just wasn’t sure if it was appropriate here or not.”

  Mika’s smile turned into a grin, and she winked. It also cast her earlier comment in a new light.

  Forrest’s cheeks heated further. Crap. Was she flirting? He didn’t want anything like that, didn’t mean anything by taking off his shirt. If it was Blue in here with him, he’d have gone for it, no problem. Hell, he’d have added in a little striptease and hip bump, even with Mr. Rinor right there.

  The art director cleared his throat.

  “Right.” Forrest stood and removed his coat and then his shirt, keeping his movements clean and efficient. And his gaze away from the girl.

  Mr. Rinor rose and stepped out from behind his desk, circling Forrest. “These are animals from your world?”

  “Except for the quorin.”

  “Interesting. You said your cousin helped? Where is he?”

  A weight descended onto Forrest’s chest, making it difficult to draw in his next breath. “Dead.”

  A small noise came from Mika’s direction, but Forrest did not look her way, instead focusing on the man who would be deciding his next few years.

  “And who applied the tattoo?”

  “An uncle.”

  “Do you have the sketches of your base pattern?”

  Forrest shook his head.

  “Mika, paper and pen only, please.” Mr. Rinor gestured to his assistant. “You may put your shirt back on. But I should warn you, if you attend my School of the Arts, you will need to get comfortable with the body.”

  Forrest suppressed a groan. Could this have gone any worse? He quickly pulled his shirt back on and sat.

  Paper and a pen were offered to him, along with a sly grin.

  “Now, draw me something. Anything.” Mr. Rinor took his seat and gestured to his desk, inviting Forrest to make use of the surface.

  He sat and blocked out everything. After a moment, it came to him, what he would present. It was a blending of styles and quick. Blue, kneeling with her head tilted back and teeth bared in a snarl. A small feline body lay before her. Those he kept simple, with almost no shading, just enough so you could tell what they were. Then he started on the surroundings, stylized crystals and stone in the same style as the sketch that had caught the art director’s eye. He left a blank space in front of Blue, and—with a few lines—created an enemy of glowing energy, the focus of Blue’s snarl.

  Forrest wasn’t sure how long he worked on the piece, but Mr. Rinor observed the entire process. When he was satisfied, Forrest signed it, set the pen down, and flipped the sheet toward the Art Director.

  “Interesting.” The man seemed to like that word. “Who’s the subject in the foreground?”

  “My wife.” There was no way Forrest could hold back his grin with those words, and he didn’t even try.

  The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners, though his mouth remained in a thin line. “I see.” He picked up the drawing and studied it for a good five minutes. Forrest grew more and more anxious as the seconds ticked by and still the art director didn’t say anything. Finally the man laid the sheet back on his desk. “What do you want from your study here? With us?”

  Forrest relaxed. This was more what he had been expecting, like the typical college interview questions their high school counselor had wanted them to be prepared for. “I want to be able to create beauty.”

  Mr. Rinor grunted. “Everyone wants to create beauty. You can create beauty now. It is good work.” He tapped the drawing. “I want to know why you want to study here. What will you do with what you learn? Why should we take you?”

  “Because I crossed worlds to be here, to study with the same people who are able to create the works I’ve seen here in the city. Things like the sculpture in the Ministry lobby, Pillioco’s study of the clan mountains that I saw in the museum here, or even the murals right outside your own door.” Forrest pursed his lips. If this wasn’t enough for the art director, he wasn’t sure what would be. “Originally, my cousin and I’d planned to open a tattoo shop together. I was even acting as my uncle’s apprentice. Now… Ultimately, I want to create something that inspires another to create as well.” As the words left him, he realized they were true. And it was a much bigger purpose than simply opening a tattoo shop with his cousin.

  “Have you any experience with mediums other than paper or ink? What about sculpture? Metal? Glass?”

  Forrest shook his head. “And isn’t that an even better reason to allow me in? Broaden my horizons?”

  Mr. Rinor’s eyes narrowed but Forrest held his gaze. The man nodded. “I’ll let you in.”

  Forrest grinned.

  The art director held up a hand. “But on a probationary scholarship. I can see you have talent. I have yet to see that you have a drive for it, or a passion, despite your words. Too many come here seeking fame and recognition but aren’t willing to put in the work.”

  Forrest opened his mouth but was once again cut off.

  “I will give you half the year. If I see significant improvement and you can show me you deserve to be here, I will grant you a permanent place and full scholarship. I know you have lessons in the morning with the Academy to get you caught up with life here on Karran. Therefore, I will start you on an afternoon schedule at first and see where you stand. Is this acceptable?”

  Forrest nodded. Hells yes, this was acceptable. After that crazy detour with Phillip, his and Blue’s original plans were finally coming together.

  When he’d first proposed to Blue that they return here, it had been an impulse born of a seed of an idea that had bloomed atop a cliff one day in February. And he’d envisioned it—although without the side trip to the Filiri region or Padilra. His vision had been a lot like what was happening right now. An apartment in the city, the clansman and Felix and Levi living with them. Even if the other two never took their relationship further with Blue, they were still family. And after the talk he, Blue, and Mo’ata had had, he was okay with whatever direction that went. The cubs hadn’t been there in the original plan, but Beast had been. Blue going to the Academy and learning to control whatever it was she did, and Forrest here at the university taking art classes.

  Granted, Jason and Trevon had not been in his vision, and he was still unsure how he felt about the two of them in Blue’s life—in his life—but if he was honest, they weren’t the worst to have around. And he did trust Blue. He trusted her to do what was right, for him and for herself.

  “So, what’s next?” he asked.

  Mika approached with a data pad in her hands and took a seat in the chair next to him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she sent him a wry smile.

  “Now we sort out your schedule for the next six months. When you are released from morning lessons, it can be adjusted,” Mr. Rinor said as he stood and waved forward his assistant.<
br />
  Over the next half hour, Forrest and Mika worked to come up with a schedule that would accommodate his morning tutoring session and allow him to catch up with the other students in the program, even on his limited time. He wouldn’t have much time to grab lunch and get over to the art department of the university, but if he took the routes Mika showed him, he should just be able to make it. He’d also get home about an hour later than Blue. But this would only last as long as the private morning lessons were ongoing. Even at six months, it was something he could manage.

  “There. That should be it.” Mika gave him an easy smile. She pressed a few buttons, and Forrest’s comm pinged. “I’ve sent the final schedule and a map, as well as a list of supplies you’ll need. If-if you have some time, I could give you a quick tour, show you some of the shops a lot of the students like to use?”

  “Oh.” He had thought she realized he was with someone.

  “Just as a friend.” Her smile fell away. “I’ve heard a little about what happened to you and your wife. I just didn’t realize you were together like that. Everything I was told pointed to her being with the clansman.”

  “She is.” Forrest gazed down at the girl, waiting for her reaction.

  Her eyes went wide, and the smile returned, this time rueful. “Oh. Well, that will teach me to make assumptions I have no business making. The offer of a tour is still available. It can be difficult to navigate this place at first.”

  Forrest tilted his head. Maybe another friend wasn’t a bad idea. And Blue could use a girl to confide in. He knew there were things she and Phe had talked about that he and Kevin had been left out of. And from what she’d said about the dinner with Jason, she hadn’t made any friends there. “I’m meeting them both after this, actually. I’m not sure if there’s anything already planned, I can check with them, but if you don’t mind a few extra people tagging along, that tour sounds good.”

  She lowered her eyes and nodded. “Let me just tell Mr. Rinor. I didn’t take a lunch, so I’m sure he won’t mind.” She hurried back through the doors.