The story was lighthearted, wonderful, and something she could so easily picture him doing. Even now. “I don’t need to worry about a gaggle of geese showing up in the apartment, do I?”
He threw back his head and let loose a shout of laughter. “No. Well, maybe. But not in your room. Promise.”
“What about your brothers?”
That sobered him up, and she could have hit herself for it—hit herself and then thrown herself in front of a pouncing piquet.
“Two. One is the eldest, which pleased father. The other came after three girls, and then finally me.”
“Your poor mother,” Blue teased, earning herself an uptick of his lips.
“As she often told us.”
They continued their meal in silence, but it wasn’t an easy one. There was something Blue had been meaning to say since the day they’d looked at the apartment. She folded the last bite of her roll around a scrap of fela and chewed. She’d been waiting for just the right moment, but it hadn’t come, and then Felix was gone on his assignment. If she kept waiting, would she ever say it?
“I’m sorry,” she said.
His green gaze zeroed in on her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I was introducing everyone to Sana that day, and I got to you and realized I didn’t even know your full name. I knew nothing about you, and it threw me. I mean, who goes months knowing someone, working with them, practically living with them, and not even knowing their full name? And I honestly hadn’t thought about it. You were just… Felix.”
“I never told you. And there were many other things to worry about.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t excuse it.”
“I didn’t want you to know.” The words were soft, almost ashamed, but he didn’t drop his gaze this time.
“Why?”
“I…” His gaze went beyond her and he paused as though gathering his thoughts. “I like that I was ‘just Felix.’ I was enjoying no one knowing who my family was.” He propped his elbow on the table and laced his fingers together. “Oh, the officials knew, but I was acting, in essence, as a bodyguard. There was no reason to involve my family or name. Mo’ata, I believe, suspected.” Then he did lower his gaze. “Zeynar knew.”
“Another reason for you to not want him around?”
He shrugged, then with a sigh, nodded. “My father is a general. My brothers are on their way to becoming ones as well. I am not, nor do I want to be. And it is a truth my family, and father in particular, have trouble accepting.” He sent her a rueful smile. “It was a truth Portia wouldn’t accept. She wanted a general, or at least a major general, and thought I was on that path. And for a time, she had me convinced I was as well.” He shifted in his seat. “For a time, I was willing to do it, for her.”
“But not now.”
“No.” The word was curt, leaving no opening for continuing the discussion.
“Well, I like you just as you are. And I certainly don’t want a general. Can you imagine? I already don’t like the politics.”
His expression softened. “Actually, I can. Imagine you as a general’s wife, I mean. You have the… fierceness it requires. Just like my mother.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she snapped her teeth at him, telling him just how much she liked the idea of being fierce.
“I have something for you. I worked on it last night.” Felix reached into the shoulder bag he’d brought with him for the ride and drew out a small, cloth-wrapped package.
“Another carving?” She took it and unwrapped the present. It was bigger than the ones of Beast and Garfield, and… it was an octopus. She smiled.
But, there was something wrong with the tentacles…
“Is it flipping me off?”
“What?” He looked down at the carving cradled carefully in her hand. Then a frown formed, holding more than puzzlement. Anger, and not the cold kind. “I did as you asked, allowed Zeynar another chance. He has spent time on Earth. I asked him what an octopus looked like. He even showed me a picture. Eight tentacles, with the fingers, and they keep the middle ones extended…” He trailed off as his frown grew more pronounced and his shoulders pulled back and raised, like he was getting ready to hit something. “Forrest agreed, though he said not all looked like…” He pulled in a breath. “What does ‘flipping off’ mean?”
Oh boy. She pulled the carving into her chest a little. She didn’t want him to try to take it back or “fix” it. She liked it just fine like this. “Um, flipping off is when you raise your middle finger at someone and… it means, um, ‘fuck you.’ A, uh, vulgar expression of rejection?”
He moved, an aborted motion filled with aggression that had nowhere to go at the moment.
“But I like this,” she hurried to add. Then snorted. “It’s a fuck-topus.” She snorted again. Oh, God, she shouldn’t laugh. But this was too good. A fuck-topus. “It can be like, the anti-octopus. When I need you guys to go away and leave me alone, which will happen at times, I can wave this around and call fuck-topus instead of octopus.”
Felix stared at her with wide eyes. “You like it?”
She nodded then stood. “So much.” She rounded the table and bent to give him a smacking kiss. “You can be my fuck-topus.” Her cheeks heated. “And that came out wrong. I mean, you can keep them all away from me when I need it. And fuck-topus trumps octopus, every time.”
His expression brightened. “So, when you are aggressively rejecting the others, I get to help?”
Was that what she had said? “Yes. But it’s a temporary rejection, and you don’t get to rub their faces in it.”
He frowned in confusion.
“Gloat,” she clarified.
He looked at the carving, then up at her, then the carving. “I did work very hard on it. The suckers on the tentacles were not easy.”
She flipped it over. There were little suckers. “No. Those would not have been easy.”
“Fuck-topus,” he said musingly. “I agree. I will be your fuck-topus.”
“Maybe we should come up with a different name.”
He tugged her toward him until there was nowhere for her to go, and she tumbled into his lap. “No. I like the name.”
Then he kissed her again, deeper than just a peck of the lips, but he took his time. She remembered his words of wanting to go slow, that there were things about him she still needed to know.
But they had made wonderful progress today.
And the day wasn’t over.
It was nearly dark by the time they got home to the apartment and gave Beast and the pouma a good rub down. The pouma, who Felix had borrowed from an acquaintance, would be returned to its home in the morning.
After they’d finished the picnic-meal, they’d gathered their mounts and given them a chance to run. After another brief rest, they’d headed back. Beast was dragging a bit, and Blue promised herself she’d figure out getting him out for some good exercise more often. Maybe she needed to send him back to the clans? She didn’t want to, though. He was as much a part of the family as the piquets. Besides, she didn’t think he’d let her send him away.
Mo’ata, Forrest, Levi, and the cubs were gathered around the dining table when they entered the apartment. Garfield bounded over to her and purred until she gave him a good scratch. Then he went back to examining whatever it was that sat on the table.
“Hey,” she called out.
Forrest looked up, eyes bright. “Hey, pixie. Come see what we got.”
What had put that expression there? She hadn’t seen him like this since he’d presented her with…
Mo’ata shifted.
Derrick’s picture. Or, the picture Forrest and Derrick had started together and that Forrest ended up finishing. D’rama had been storing it for them while they ran all around Karran and Padilra trying to catch Phillip, the crystal-wielding psycho-murderer.
It was propped against the side of a large crate. The colors were just as bright as she remembered. “It’s here.�
�
“Yeah.” Forrest swallowed. “And that’s not all.”
She grabbed Felix’s hand and crowded around the crate with the rest of the guys. Straw and soft cloth sat at the bottom to act as packing material. The crate seemed awfully large for what she saw.
“Most of it was clothing and other personal possessions, including weapons that belonged to me and my fathers, rather than the draga position,” Mo’ata explained.
There were two things left in the crate—unwrapped, she noted. One was a small vial of clear plexi with a powdery gray substance inside, and the other was what looked like a bolt of silky cloth, like the kind the clan had used for the banners and streamers outside the tents.
“It’s Derrick,” Forrest whispered.
Blue stared at the vial. And then she remembered Mo’ata’s promise after their very first adventure: He’d find a way to get some of Derrick’s ashes to Forrest.
He’d just kept that promise.
“It wasn’t an appropriate time, back at the camp. There was too much going on, things were too unsettled, and you could not have afforded him the proper farewell he deserved, if you had chosen to.” Mo’ata rested a hand on Forrest’s shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe I should not have waited?”
Forrest shook his head and reached into the crate, his fingers hovering over the vial. “No, it’s fine. I—”
“We can put him on the shelf, next to the fucktopus until you’re ready,” she said. Not appropriate, Blue. Her cheeks heated, and she ducked her head. So not appropriate.
Forrest barked out a laugh. “Oh God, he actually made it? I was going to tell him today…”
“I am now the fucktopus,” Felix said. His tone was even, almost soft. A sign of respect for the moment? “When Blue is done with the antics of the apartment, she will tell me, and I will guard her to allow for ‘alone time.’ She likes my gift.”
Okay, maybe the last was more smug than respectful.
Forrest flashed a grin, there and gone. “I think Derrick would have liked it too.” He sucked in a breath and grabbed the vial. “Okay. Good. Okay. So, what’s the other thing?”
Mo’ata pulled it out and unfolded the cloth. It was long, maybe seven feet, and about three feet wide. It was a deep midnight color. She’d seen similar lengths of cloth hanging on the fronts of tents in the prida section of the camp. But this one was blank.
“It is the seyna,” Mo’ata whispered. He draped it over the back of the sofa, then ran his fingers over the blank expanse. After a moment he shook himself from whatever thoughts had captured him. “The prida’s sigil, their mark, is placed upon the seyna and hung where all can see. It is a way of showing who you are and in the camps is also an… address marker?”
“This one is blank,” she said.
“Well, of course. We haven’t put our mark on it yet. Something for each member. They are added to as a prida is added to. The first symbol, the core symbol, represents the shopa. Surrounding that are marks for each priden, each with their own color to show individuality, but the design emphasizes unity.”
Blue let out a little breath. Damn, the clans were smart. Felix let her go and gave her a little push. She went to stand beside her clansman. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“I can do it.” Forrest stood on the other side of the clansman. “I’ll come up with something.” Then he looked at the three other men in the room. “For each of us. I’ll show you once I’ve got a rough idea, and you can approve it or not or what have you.”
“We don’t have a tent,” Mo’ata said.
“We have a wall.” Felix shrugged. “Same thing.”
Blue noted he didn’t say a word of protest about getting his own mark. And neither did Levi. She swallowed.
It was all coming together. Piece by piece, they were coming together.
Chapter 28
BLUE
Blue opened her eyes to the neutral expression of the Wavelength Space Practical instructor. That was all she needed to see to know she’d failed. Again.
It had been two Karran weeks since she’d started school, and only a ten-day since she’d been allowed to do more than simply observe. She had yet to be able to generate even the slightest level of power to trigger the portal in the practice room. The first time she’d triggered a thin space, it had been an accident. The second time—well, the second time she was beginning to think it had been sheer luck rather than talent or natural skill.
Next up was Elaina. Her dark hair fell in straight lines down her back, and her uniform draped her frame in precise lines. Blue tugged on the hem of her own jacket and peeked down to check that her buttons were done up correctly. They were. Of course they were. It wasn’t as if she was in the habit of stripping herself in the middle of the day and then forgetting how to put clothes on.
Despite their friendship, something about the girl when she went into perfect-student-mode generated a self-consciousness in Blue that she both detested and didn’t know how to get rid of. It only hit in moments like this, when Elaina donned her I’ve-got-this demeanor. At all other times, the girl was a delightful mess.
And it wasn’t as if Elaina was mean in these instances. Far from it. She helped translate the more complex terms in class, assisted Blue in wading through the science of the portals—which still made absolutely no sense—and had even run off Sarah and her minions a time or two. She’d even shown her the best study nooks away from prying eyes and the best places to go for lunch and helped fend off some of the more aggressive students who hounded Blue for details about what’d happened on Padilra or why she’d ever agreed to be part of a prida.
She was a great friend, and Blue hated these vague and elusive feelings of resentment that she couldn’t seem to prevent. She’d never felt them with Phe, but Phe was so much her own person, so different from Blue, that there had been no comparison.
Just concentrate on what you can do. You’re not competing with her for anything in any way. So, pull your head out of whatever morass of self-pity you’ve shoved it in.
And maybe that was it. She really should be further along than she was in her studies. Well, no, she shouldn’t, but she wanted to be. She was impatient to be done with this, to be able to move a stupid box from “A” to “B,” to know how to wrestle a bison to the ground, and to figure out what the frack was going on with this elusive drug they were tracking down.
Despite Trev making the connection to the scent and Falass and finding a basic location, there’d not been any progress. And it had taken a while for him to get a man in place, as most of his were on Earth. He’d also had to coordinate with the Eteru Family, who held a majority of the interest on Falass, which was “like convincing an inga to eat its own shit.” He’d finally been able to send a man through two days before, but they had yet to hear back from him.
It also hadn’t settled her nerves any to know that Jason had been sent to Falass. The Ministry had refused to confirm one way or the other where he had been sent and why, but they could all guess. Which meant Jason was in the thick of things with no backup.
Yes, it was all definitely enough to make her feel a bit like a squirrel high on caffeine who didn’t have a stash of nuts for winter.
There’d also been three more bodies: a university student, another from Turamm, and a Padilrian—the first. And these were not just instances of seizures or impaired functions, but fatalities—with the exploding brains, green fingers, and all that. Things were picking up in momentum, and she couldn’t help but feel that she was missing something basic because she didn’t know something she should. And if she just knew that thing, she would have solved this and those people would still be alive.
Elaina stepped forward, a little away from where the other students grouped in a corner of Level Two Loading. Her eyes slid closed, and a moment later the small wooden trunk sitting in a red circle traced over the floor disappeared, only to reappear in a green circle a few yards away.
“Very good.” The usually dour Instru
ctor Peel actually smiled and nodded. “Good aim and minimal disturbance. Sarah, you’re next. Send it to the yellow.”
Blue bit back a groan and braced herself for the smirk that was sure to come her way. She didn’t know what had passed between the girl and Jason, she just knew that they hadn’t gotten anything from Petyr through her and that the snark was now interspersed with condescending pity, which was worse.
Sure enough, there it was. Sarah sent a glare at Blue, curled her lip, tossed her hair, and stepped forward. But there was something else there. Something Blue would have called worry, if she’d seen it on another person.
Seconds later, the trunk was just outside the yellow circle and faint tremors in the floor were fading away.
“Adequate.”
Blue expected Sarah to toss her hair again and roll her eyes, or something equally bratty. Instead she shrugged and went back to her place surrounded by her cohorts. Who also were not acting as much like a pack of hyenas as they normally did, come to think of it.
As student after student moved the trunk from one circle to another, Blue reviewed what she knew. She’d have another couple turns before the end of class, but maybe the instructor would let her stick around for some extra practice.
Words swirled in her mind. Wavelengths and momentum and velocity. Phrases like “quantum superposition” and “wave function collapse.” She’d looked them up. Daniel had tried to explain them in the morning tutoring session last week when she and Forrest managed to derail him from whatever self-imposed schedule he’d concocted. One afternoon Instructor Cherook had even stayed behind during her lunch to try to explain the importance of quantum states.
“Stop thinking about it so hard,” Elaina whispered.
“What?”
“Stop thinking about it so hard.” She tilted her head and eyed Blue with speculation. “I know we haven’t gotten there yet in class, but have you read about the Nemico War yet?”
Blue shook her head, one eye on the instructor.
“Well, you’ll get there. But my point is this—before that war, there was no Alliance, there was barely a Ministry, and no one operating the portals knew anything about the science behind what they did, just that they could do it. You just have to figure out how you do it. I think all that time they make us spend in theory is more about that.” She tapped her head. “I like to think of it not as transporting something over a distance, but… bringing those two points in space to be the same space. And then letting it go, with what was in the first space now in the second.”
A Blue Star Rising Page 26
