by Pixie James
“Ty’Nix, So’Char, and Ki’Lin in Group One are head to head. So’Det and So’Ist in Group Two have an exceptional lead, and it looks like So’Bish and Tia—So’Tia, sorry—are rockin’ it in Group Three.”
“You need not apologize for lack of formality, Fledgling. I find it exceptional you have progressed as you have and have formed several bonds with your fellow Xebulins.”
Her positivity settles somewhere pleasant, further easing my distress from this morning’s events. Today could have been so much worse, but I’m thankful on so many levels that she isn’t treating me like a freak, or an anomaly—just like everyone else.
“You know, what you did earlier took courage. Facing down a Raska as powerful as the Dan-A-Tish over the blatant abuse of power and insult you suffered? Most of the young I know would have spoken out, demanded retribution for Ty’Don’s offenses, yet you have not approached me a single time. Only allowed me to sit and enjoy the celebration unbothered. Why is that?”
“I didn’t want to bug you, and to be honest, I didn’t want Ty’Don to have the satisfaction of knowing he upset me. If not for Te’Lara switching my robes, I would have shown up completely oblivious.”
“I was curious as to the cause of her sudden change in clothing. Interesting. And your dealings with him before this? Have they been equally as unpleasant?”
The deep silver markings swirling up her neck and over her scalp are dramatic next to the leather get up she’s wearing. Black robes billow around her over the top of a weapon harness and several black handles peek out whenever she moves, reminding me how deadly she can likely be. But unlike Te’Lara and the others, her attire is more like a tunic with pants.
“Unfortunately, yes. He doesn’t seem to like me much.”
She dips her head to the side. “Or he cares for himself too much.” Eugene passes by, giving me a wink, and War Commander Ty’Furi flags him down. Oh, my gosh. More cheese? I hope Xebulins digest diary better than humans because if not, she’d gong to regret all those buckles on her pants later.
Her chair squeaks as she turns toward me, and I marvel at the fact her feet dangle just slightly above the ground. I didn’t realize how small she actually is. Her aura makes her seem huge. “What do you think should happen to him? What consequence should he face for his infractions against you?”
“You want me to be blunt?”
“Without exception.”
“If you had asked me six hours ago, I’d have said I wanted to throat punch him. One free pass to smack him upside the head a time or two. But now? I don’t really want anything from him. Just for him to leave me alone, really.”
She cocks a brow. “Come now, child. You can’t expect me to believe that. I asked you to speak truthfully, so out with it.”
Ah, hell. I don’t think I could refuse her even if I tried to.
“Maybe decrease his power on the Assembly and give the others who have demonstrated a better moral capacity more of a voice. I don’t know much about politics or even being a Xebulin, really. But what I do know is that the people you represent shouldn’t be afraid to talk to you or give their opinions when they think you’re wrong. Because I mean, how can you accurately speak for a group of people whose voices you refuse to hear?”
“You know, I could not have said it better myself. I believe I will retire early, use the rest of my stay to explore the grounds and survey the security layout to ensure it meets my expectations. The threats against you will not go unanswered.”
She pauses, a contemplative look on her face. “One last thing before I go. When you engaged in the attempt to activate your homelight, what did you feel?”
My lip quivers and my words get caught in my throat. Crap, here it is. I’m about to get skewered.
“Oh, do not hold back now, Fledgling. I already absorbed the memories from your Raska. You have done nothing overtly wrong, outside of being curious about a world you were thrust into.”
I release the breath I was holding. I swear Ty’Furi has the best interrogation techniques ever.
“Do not be fooled, Beloved Xebulin. She is cunning, always assessing and analyzing her next move. Ty’Furi is many things, but a benign female she is not. She is kind and gracious, but my fangs are nothing in comparison to hers.”
Oh, so now he decides to talk after playing the silent game all afternoon? He groans and goes back to pouting. “This is the first time since we entered these tents I have not wanted to defy you and eat the Ty. Consider yourself lucky I tolerate your ridiculous requests.”
“I don’t remember much, but I felt loved. So much so, in those few moments I stayed conscious, I didn’t care that I was bleeding everywhere, or had blown up the gym…”
She stands, the top of her head just below my chin, and stares up at me. “For what it is worth, Fledgling Cherise, we were measuring the atmosphere above Xebulis Five that night. And when your home light broke through, it found its origin.”
I swallow hard. “Does that mean…”
“Yes. Although we have not yet located her on our planet, we believe your female creator lives.”
Chapter Thirty
The cheers are deafening—the final round of the games bringing all the parents to their feet. All but the six highest ranking Xebulins have been disqualified, but there are only three names I care about—Ty’Nix, Ki’Lin, and So’Tia. My best friend and my nemesis are neck and neck, and I swear, I’ve never wanted someone to lose so bad in my life. Ki’Lin doesn’t deserve this. And Nix? I’ll always root for him, even when I know I shouldn’t.
With nothing to do but wait and pray that Tia wins, I’ve been parked in the corner of the parents’ tent waiting for Te’Lara and Ha’Jahn to dismiss me.
I know why they haven’t. No one has come right out and said it, but War Commander Ty’Furi requested Ty’Don accompany her when she left, and I’m pretty sure everyone in the room knew something was up. To make matters worse, he returned about fifteen minutes ago and he’s been uncharacteristically quiet. Sitting there, eyes locked on the nearest screen displaying the scores. Even weirder, the four Raska who are paired with people in the parents tent repositioned themselves and have been watching him like a hawk.
Jaw clenched, he looks ready to explode, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about him retaliating against me. He’s already proven to be ruthless, and that was before he had an ax to grind. Now…?
“Do not fear the Ty’, Beloved Xebulin. He has been branded untrustworthy. He bears my mark.”
“You didn’t…”
Huey shakes his head, showing all his teeth. “I did not urinate on him, no. He bears the mark of Nyn—ill will. Only visible to Raska, he will be supervised no matter his location if he comes within scenting range. No Raska—here or within our lineage—will allow him within three feet of you or any other vulnerable target without supervision.”
My jaw drops. “Is that why those four moved to stare at him?”
“Yes. I placed the mark upon his return.”
Sneaking a peek again, I look for anything out of the ordinary and come up empty. Huey sighs, then turns his head so I can connect with his regala. My vision blurs for a second, and then I see it. Like the white spots that appear when you stare at something bright, Ty’Don has four translucent slanted red lines across his forehead.
Huey breaks the connection and I blink hard.
“Wow. How often do you guys do that?” I ask, curious about what else they can do. The Raska are incredible. I know I don’t tell Huey, because let’s be real, he never stops reminding me of how awesome he is now, but he’s saved my life, in more ways than one. I honestly don’t see how I lived my first seventeen years without him.
“Often enough. We mark those we care for, and those we do not. The mark of Nyn is not a common one. We reserve it for those that we deem unsavory and dangerous.”
“Oh! Do I have one?” Again, I stretch out my arms like an idiot, and Huey groans.
“You cannot see it withou
t my assistance, Beloved Xebulin.”
I give him my best puppy dog eyes. “Will you show me, then?”
“It is highly unusual. We take pride in our marks. They represent an extension of our power, of our capabilities.”
“So, you’re telling me I’m basically wearing a sign that says don’t mess with me?”
Huey nods. “As do the others who have been chosen.” I hold out my hand in a silent demand to see them. Again, his regala wraps around my wrist and my vision blurs, this time illuminating the marks of the only member of the Assembly with a Raska—Ki’Jol.
A series of neon orange triangles at different angles cascade down her arms from shoulder to elbow, with smaller dots and lines that branch out and crawl up her neck. The Raska carry lines and marks too, but only on their backs. Her Raska is in the rear of the tent, somewhere between her and Ty’Don, a physical barrier to his nearness.
Dropping my gaze to my own arms, I gasp. The most beautiful shade of turquoise, they’re covered in swirls and intricate lines. Even the skin of my ankles peeking out from under my robes is marked. Grabbing a nearby spoon as a mirror substitute, I glance at my face.
Woven around my head like a crown, those same beautiful bright blue swirls stand out against my light purple skin. “Huey, they’re gorgeous.”
I’ve never had someone or something make me feel so…cherished. Like how I imagine I’d feel about my child. He may be subtle in the way he shows it, but Huey will forever be my family.
Huey nudges the robes over my chest “I am not the only one who exhibits a significant chemical reaction to you, Beloved Xebulin. But it is true I have spent a considerable amount of time perfecting your marks.”
Still connected, I see Huey’s identifying marks. His entire body is lit up in the same blue and the marks that encircle my head are projected around his. “Huey, did you give yourself a crown?”
“I am superior. Only those worthy of wearing it can mark above the neck.”
As always, his blinding confidence makes me smile and gives me the boost I need to get up off my butt and brave the walk across the room to ask Te’Lara if I can leave. With Ty’Furi elsewhere and Eugene handling the rest of the party, I’m really not needed. And I want to support Tia at the end of the games. She’s got to be exhausted, and if I can help give her even the slightest bit of motivation to smoke Ki’Lin’s petty ass, I’m going to try.
As Huey and I stand, the four Raska flanking Ty’Don do as well and stagger themselves, shifting their makeshift barrier with us. They’re not holding back on making their presence known, and several assembly members have stopped watching the live stream to gawk, but no one says a thing.
Headmaster Ha’Jahn meets me halfway. “Hey, can I go watch outside? The War Commander is out and about, so I’m not really needed here.”
His eyes flicker to Ty’Don and back. “Of course, as long as you feel comfortable doing so.” Huey increases his size, his back now even with my shoulders. The other Raska, while still significantly smaller than Huey, double as well, and Headmaster Ha’Jahn gawks. “Message received, Huetalizan. You are free to go, Cherise. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
I can’t wait to get outside—the walls have been pressing in on me—and I swear as soon as the tent opening swings closed, I feel better. Even Huey puts his fangs away and stops trolling people.
A cool breeze rustles my hair as I trek to my dorm to change. No way I’m staying in these robes a second longer. After pulling on my only pair of jeans and shoving a shirt over my head, Huey and I take off for the last course, where the finalists are battling it out.
It’s a madhouse. The disqualified students all gather around cheering them on like a college football game. Everyone’s covered in mud and sweat—some even blood—and they’re lined up against the barriers, jarring each other to get a better look. I peer through the sea of faces, trying to spot Tia, but with so many people blocking the way, I can’t see anything.
With my shoulders sagging in disappointment, I turn to walk off but stop when Huey grabs my wrist with his regala and starts barging his way through. Several people protest at first, then mumble apologies when they realize who’s shoving them aside.
When we finally get to the front, we catch the tail end of the action. Tia is in the rear, trekking through a mud pit, arms flapping like a rag doll. Her black hair is haphazardly falling out of her bun, and she’s barely recognizable under all the dirt.
“Go Tia! Move your butt!” I yell, right as she tumbles. “Get up, get up! Go!” Unsure if she can hear me, I cup my hands, trying to project my voice, and she jerks her head up. I hop up on the top beam of the divider marking the course edge and start screaming louder.
She drags herself out of the mud and pushes on, fighting to catch up with Ki’Lin, who’s about a quarter of a mile in front of her. She’s moving slowly, barely able to lift her legs out of the knee-deep mud. I need to stay where she can hear me, but the crowd’s too thick.
Screw it.
Hopping over the barricade, I run toward her, sticking close to the wall and the stretch of grass before the mud pit starts. Huey follows, growling at anyone who dares protest, and nudging me with his nose when I lose my balance on the uneven ground. As soon as she hears my voice again, Tia looks for me, giving me an exhausted, weak smile.
I run beside her, encouraging her, yelling for her until she’s cleared the mile-long pit and is on solid ground. The first few steps she stumbles, but when she gains her bearings she takes off.
Unable to go any further, I hop back over the barricade and, with Huey’s help, make it to the finish line at the end of the course just in time to see Nix, then Ki’Lin cross it.
Son of a bitch.
Tia slows as soon as the completion buzzer goes off and bursts into tears. It’s so unlike her to cry, and she must be so exhausted.
Running at her like my life depends on it, I wrap her in a giant hug and let her muddy tears fall on my shirt. I’m not worried about the stains. After all, I’m pretty sure it’s hers.
Three feet from the line, her legs give out, and Huey swoops under her, nudging her onto his back, carrying her the rest of the way until she flops off into a puffy patch of grass.
“I can’t,” she manages in between raspy breaths. “I…love you…guys.” Bleary eyed, she shakes her head as Ki’Lin accepts the crowd’s congratulations. “Sorry, Cherise.”
“Stop that. You were such a badass, you have nothing to apologize for. Absolutely, nothing.”
A warmth crawls up my spine, and I know without a doubt why. Turning to meet his gaze, my mouth goes dry. He’s in a cut off shirt— his corded muscles covered in sweat. Still out of breath, his chest heaves, and with every flex of his abs, I swear he gets closer. Or maybe it’s me, I can’t tell. Either way, that warmth snakes its way across my chest, and my breath stills.
He’s so beautiful it actually hurts.
Before I can explain why, I’m standing in front of him, hands clenched at my sides in an effort not to reach out and touch him. And he’s just staring at me. “Cherise…”
The way he says my name nearly curls my toes, and just as I open my mouth to respond, Ki’Lin bounces over, nearly knocking me out of the way. The moment dies, and the warmth is sucked away by her shrill voice.
“Ty, oh my gosh. You did so great. Sorry I had to leave for a second and talk to the games master. What was it you wanted to tell me?”
I cross my arms, annoyed she’s angled her body to block me from view like I’m not even there. She leans up and whispers in his ear, then giggles and turns to finally acknowledge me. “Oh, we don’t need any drinks, we’ve got water, thanks. You can go now.”
“I’m here for Tia.”
She puckers her lips and throws an arm around Nix’s neck. He stiffens but doesn’t pull away like I expect. “Well, obviously not. Since your loser best friend is over there in a crumpled ball on the ground looking all pathetic.”
“Ki’Lin,” Nix grinds out,
and almost as if she takes his warning personally, she narrows her eyes and smiles.
“What? I’m just saying if she’s ignoring her friend, she obviously wants to talk to you. I mean, look at her.” Ki’Lin turns and then gestures between the two of us. “Oh, my God. You can’t be serious? You like him.”
“What? No—”
“No, you do!” She bursts out in laughter. “Oh, how pathetic. You can’t seriously think Ty would go for a nobody like you?”
“Ki’Lin, stop. Leave her alone. Now,” Nix spits out, jaws clenched, as a crowd starts to gather around us.
“This is great! Well, in that case, Ty, I should probably show you what I found last night. I know you haven’t had your phone all day so…” She glances at her friend who hands her a phone. I snatch it away without thinking.
She swipes at me, and I move farther away. “Give it back, freak.”
Lips trembling, I hold my ground. I am so sick of her crap. “Not until I delete it.”
Enraged, she releases Nix and charges at me, but he snakes a hand around her waist to pull her back. “Get a hold of yourself, Ki’Lin. You’re acting like a psycho.” Huey growls but I call him off, then scroll furiously to the picture and delete it.
I hold it out for her. “Fine, have it back. It’s gone now.”
Anger flares in her eyes, and rather than take the phone, she clamps her hand around my wrist. Her voice drops scarily low. “Admit it.”
I try to jerk my wrist away, but it doesn’t budge. “Get off of me. Let me go!” Nix drags her back hard, trying to separate us, panic swimming in his eyes, but she still manages to hold on.
“Admit you like him! Or I’m showing him everything I see!”
Chatter explodes around us, and the games director comes running. Huey shoves himself between us, and Nix pulls, but it’s too late. The sick, dirty feeling of her breaching my mind floods my veins, and I’m so tired of her, tired of people always trying to hurt me, I do the only thing I can. I yank the invading energy hard, trying to rip it out of my mind, like I want to rip off her face, and we explode apart—Huey catching me before I hit the ground.
