by RS McCoy
“It’s the best way to keep it from getting more debris. I can try to slip it off—”
“No, just cut it. It’s ruined, anyway.”
With scissors in hand, Hale cut away the remnants of her Pyro shirt. Each snip revealed more of the angry, blood-crusted injury, and around it, her bronze skin. Hale couldn’t help but admire the color, so much richer than the light skin of Terras.
Her golden hair was braided and hanging over her shoulder, though it was messier than she liked. Even in their short time together, Hale knew that much about her: Raene liked to maintain appearances.
With her wound centered over her spine just below her shoulder blades, Hale had to strip away all but the very top of her shirt.
“Just take it off,” Raene said. She reached up and unclasped the only remaining strap—the one behind her neck—and let her shirt fall away.
Hale paused to watch her, more in awe than anything. She kept one hand over her chest, but even so, she was far more bare than any Terra girl would be in the presence of a man. He had to remind himself that she grew up in a much different place.
But if she was comfortable in such a state before him, Hale wouldn’t argue. Eventually, they’d know each other intimately, but for now, he was glad she could trust him with this.
So Hale continued. He couldn’t count how many times he’d done this for his siblings or other clan members—rinsing the wound with clean water, applying one of Gemini’s numbing antiseptic ointments, and bandaging it with strips of sterile gauze.
Each step in the process was familiar, yet there was still a quiver in his hands. His knuckles skimmed her smooth flesh a half-dozen times, each one making his pulse race with nerves and excitement.
“Hale?” Raene looked over her shoulder just as he pressed down the last edge of the bandage.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, though he knew the ointment would already have begun to numb the wound.
Raene shook her head, causing her braid to flop a bit. “I just—I thought you should know. In the woods—”
Hale dared to put a hand on her bare waist and leaned over so she could see his face. “I don’t care what happened. As long as you weren’t in danger, and you didn’t put anyone else in danger, then it doesn’t matter.”
Raene kept one hand guarding her chest. Her brow was creased. Her eyes were full of worry, and for the first time, Hale feared she’d done something horrible.
He put his hand over her cheek and offered her a reassuring smile. His faith in the Mother reminded him that everything happened as it was meant to. If it was as bad as Raene thought, the Mother would have required his intervention.
So Hale stroked her cheek with his thumb and waited for whatever it was, ready to dispel her concerns as soon as they were aired.
Raene’s lovely blue eyes were tinged and dark as she said, “He kissed me.”
Hale blinked in shock. His mouth gaped, and his mind raced to consider if he’d even heard her right. Surely she didn’t mean…
Her words tumbled out rapid-fire. “I don’t know why, and he said he was sorry. I thought you should know—” She looked at her lap as she awaited his reaction.
Hale was determined not to disappoint her. “I’ll talk to him. It won’t happen again.” Then, another thought occurred to him. “Unless you want—”
The violent shake of her head was answer enough. “No, I don’t.”
Hale couldn’t resist a smile. “Then let’s forget about it.”
Raene put her hand over his where it rested on her cheek. A second later, she collapsed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Hale didn’t miss the fact that her bare chest was pressed to his tunic. “Hey, it’s fine,” he assured her. “I’m not mad. You have nothing to worry about.” He didn’t tell her that fulfilling this particular plan of the Alder Mother was the greatest thing to ever happen to him.
Raene didn’t move except to squeeze him tighter. She was afraid of whatever it was she had to say, but Hale could guess easily enough.
“Raene, I know you went hunting.” The way her grip loosened around his neck told Hale he was on the right track. “It’s just one of those things we’ll have to work on.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”
“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out.” Hale filled his voice with as much confidence as he could. He knew the Mother would make sure it all worked out.
Raene pulled back and scanned his face, her mouth tight with apprehension. “You’re not mad?”
With her arms locked around his neck and her bare chest hovering so close, Hale smiled and shook his head. “No, a little envious. But not mad.”
“Envious?” Raene wrinkled her brow a moment before she used her fingertip to smooth it over. “Because he kissed me?”
“Absolutely.” It nearly killed him to force out the word, true as it was, but the Mother wanted this. Hale had to walk the fine line between the Sacred Mother’s will and earning Raene’s trust and respect. If he went too fast, he could alienate her, push her away. But if he went too slow, she would think he wasn’t eager to have her as his bride. So as much as he hated to be so bold, Hale cleared his throat and asked, “May I kiss you, Raene?”
Her eyes widened. Hale momentarily wondered if he’d overstepped, but then she offered him the smallest nod.
A nervous drum took up beat in his chest. Hale reminded himself he’d kissed plenty of girls—well, two. But he didn’t need to be nervous. This was Raene—his bride, his future wife—and this moment may very well be the start of a long and glorious marriage.
Hale forced his hands to quit shaking as he placed one on either side of her face, his palms on her cheeks and his fingers wrapping behind her neck. Then, he leaned forward, pulling her closer until their lips met. He started slow, a gentle pressing together of their lips, until hers parted. Her arms tightened around his neck as she neared to get better access to the recesses of his mouth.
But Hale forced himself back. He had to use both hands to create distance between them. He couldn’t go too fast, he reminded himself. He couldn’t compromise the Mother’s will for his own selfish indulgence. Hale pulled her close again and kissed her forehead, not at all missing the flush to her cheeks or the sweet smile she wore. “Now turn around.”
Raene finally released him—for which he was both grateful and disappointed—and turned her bare back to him once more.
Hale collected the tangled lengths of her hair and worked his fingers through it before braiding it as she liked. He’d never had cause to do it for Blossom—her hair was far too curly—but for Gemini, Nyla, and some others, Hale had been one of the few adults not at work or at the cut. His fingers completed the familiar motions and set her braid against her spine.
“Thank you,” she said, offering him a shy smile over her shoulder.
She would make a fine wife. Hale could see it already. She was kind and polite and intelligent, and once they got to really know each other, they’d be loyal and devoted to one another. Each moment he spent with her made him more sure.
Hale helped her slip a Terra sleep shirt over her shoulders and convinced her to lay down, all too glad to avoid another conflict over Pyro clothes. He rubbed along her back as best he could without disturbing her bandages, and within minutes, Raene gave in to much-needed sleep.
It was hard not to admire her. She was different and exotic, but Hale was confident that even in Pyrona, Raene had been a cherished beauty. He would have liked nothing more than to lay beside her and rest as well.
But instead, Hale kissed her cheek and stroked her hair before he got to his feet. He had work to do today, and he was already late, but first, he was going to have a talk with his brother.
“Do I have any assignments today?” Blossom asked her devoted advisor over breakfast.
Eton shook his head, though it wasn’t enough to displace a single perfect hair on his creepily pale head. “Not so far. Why? Looking for another traitor to exile?�
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Blossom pressed her lips into a thin line and glared. “Not at all.” She pushed away from the glass table they shared and collected her cloak from the closet.
“Where are you going?” Eton asked, his brows wrinkled more than usual.
Buttoning the front of her cloak, she replied, “To make a friend.”
Eton scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”
“Oh, sure. You’re the master of making friends. I forgot.” Blossom couldn’t hide the contemptuous roll of her eyes before she headed for the door. She wasn’t about to spend the day in her apartment thinking of things she couldn’t change.
“Blossom, really. Where are you going?” Eton was on her heels in a heartbeat. It was almost cute the way he followed her like a dog. Her own little pet Eton.
She pressed her hand to the cool glass surface of the scanner and waited for the beep. As the door opened, she thrust herself into the circular corridor of the Halo and began searching for the right door. Only when she’d completed a full lap to no avail did she bother to ask him for help.
“Which one is the Apprentice Vice Syndicate Dodd?”
Already, she knew he hated the idea of it. His pale-blue eyes dimmed, and he rubbed his hands together before him. “Blossom—”
She’d hear none of it. “I’ll knock on all the doors if you don’t want to tell me.”
When Eton didn’t respond, she turned back down the hall and approached the first door. Only as he she raised her hand to knock did he stop her. “That’s Crin Peppers.”
Blossom lowered her hand and allowed herself to smile at her victory. A second later, she continued down the corridor to the only door left.
“Be careful,” Eton said, his voice low in her ear. She hadn’t even realized he was so close.
“Yes, sixteen-year-old girls are so deadly and dangerous. I better watch out.”
“She seems sweet. That’s her game. She’s from an elite family and has been in politics in Aerona her whole life. She knows everyone. She gets whatever she wants. Don’t underestimate her.” He chewed on his lip piercing for a moment before he added, “And don’t trust anything she says.”
Instead of answering, Blossom knocked on the door. It made a sad, tinny sound, and she wondered if anyone inside could hear her at all. A minute later, the door finally opened, and a serious Aero man stood in its place.
Blossom couldn’t remember his name. She’s seen him once before, standing behind the Apprentice Vice Syndicate Dodd in the corridor. He was her advisor, but Blossom knew nothing else about him.
He stood tall, his shoulders broad and his hair shaved on the right side. A heavy metal hoop hung from his nose. If Blossom had to guess his totem, she’d suspect a crocodile or rhinoceros. Something hardened and careful to match his demeanor.
With an impossibly slow bow, he greeted them and said, “Welcome, Vice Syndicate Frane. Please come in. I’ll inform her of your arrival.” He held out a hand and bid them entry.
Blossom was less than surprised to see a space identical to her own. The couches were a richer blue and the tables were silver instead of glass, but otherwise, it was the same frozen, white space as her own apartment.
The advisor led them toward the couch and motioned for them to sit before he walked toward the bedroom doors.
“Remember what I said,” Eton whispered so low only she could hear.
Blossom brushed him off. She could do this. Having tea with a tiny albino teen was hardly on the list of life-threatening activities. As a Vice Syndicate—even a transfer—she had more sway and power than an Apprentice. Besides, Blossom was going to lose her mind if she had to spend another day alone with Eton.
Right on cue, the lovely face of Yveline Dodd emerged from her bedroom, all glowing and gracious smiles. “Vice Syndicate Frane!” she squealed in delight. “I’m so happy you’ve come to see me. We have so much to discuss.”
Like a butterfly, she fluttered over to the seat facing Blossom, her white cloak as light as a cloud. Delicate, glittering piercings dotted her eyebrow, nose, and both cheeks. When she sat, she crossed her legs and rested an elbow across the top of her thigh. “Can Herson get you something to drink? He makes a lovely lemon lilac tea.”
Blossom tried to mirror the girl’s gracious smile. “Thank you. That sounds delicious,” she lied. Given the choice, Blossom would never consume another drop of tea in her lifetime. Norsa’s sour, orange monstrosity had turned her against the idea altogether.
But she couldn’t go offending her future friend in the first five minutes.
Yveline nodded to her advisor before turning back to Blossom. Her piercings glittered as she asked, “How are you finding Aerona so far? It must be quite different from where you’re from.”
Blossom was tempted to be false—to lie and say she loved it here—but she couldn’t. Instead, she heard herself say, “I’m still getting used to it. Everything is so strange here.”
“Like what?” The girl beamed.
“Well—everything,” Blossom said with a small laugh. “The food and the clothes. You have tunnels instead of volcanos. It’s always cold instead of hot.” It was only when Yveline scrunched her lovely face that Blossom realized her mistake.
She’d been talking about Pyrona.
“But I’m doing my best,” Blossom said, trying to hide it. “Eton’s been helpful getting me set up with new suits and a panel and this.” She pointed to her newly shaved head.
Eton grunted in the seat beside her.
Reminded of his presence, Blossom turned, and, in the most even voice she could manage, said, “Thank you Advisor Samina. I have no further need of you this morning.”
Eton allowed himself a rare moment of public shock before he caught himself. With his jaw clenched tight, he nodded and launched from the couch. Seconds later, he was gone out the door.
Without him, Blossom felt more alone than she would have thought. Since her arrival, Eton had been by her side every waking hour. Now, Blossom would have to manage on her own. In the personal quarters of one of the most important people in the realm, she tried not to feel intimidated.
She didn’t need Eton. She could do this.
“You grew up here?” Blossom asked, desperate to talk about anything other than her life outside of Aero.
Herson arrived with a pair of transparent glass mugs filled with amber tea. Tendrils of steam rose from each as he handed them over.
Yveline took her tea without a word and sipped it carefully. “My family has been in politics for generations. My father was the Research and Development Commissioner. My mother was the head of the Transformative Analysis Division. My oldest brother now holds that position.”
Blossom could see it right away. From the way she kept her eyes down to the large sip of tea she took, Blossom know Yveline’s parents were dead.
“I have three brothers,” Blossom told her. “All bears.”
Yveline looked up and giggled. “My brother is an ostrich. Big, mean old thing, he is.” Then, as Blossom would never have expected, Yveline tucked her wrists against her ribs and bobbed her head like a pecking bird.
It was all Blossom could do to keep from spilling her tea as she erupted in raucous laughter. “Are you practicing for when you’re an ostrich?” she said between hoots and hollers.
It was Yveline’s turn to explode in laughs. “I’m not going to be an ostrich!” she shouted with a wide, consuming grin.
Blossom sobered instantly. She tried to hold onto the merriment of the moment, but she couldn’t make sense of it. “You won’t?”
“Of course not! Who’d want to be some giant bird that can’t even fly? No, thank you. I’m going to request a kingfisher.” Yveline seemed awfully pleased with such an idea, but Blossom had no idea what she was saying.
Her confusion must have registered on her face. Yveline retrieved her panel from her cloak pocket and made several quick motions before she turned it to face Blossom. The screen displayed a cobalt-blue and yellow bird with a l
ong beak and a rounded body.
“You’ve never seen one? Isn’t it gorgeous? Such colors. I could get lost in them.” She put a hand to her forehead as if to swoon. “They’re not all that large, maybe this wide.” Yveline held her hands a little more than shoulder-width apart. “But they are skilled hunters, and they can live anywhere. Caverns, tunnels, trees. You should see them fly. They can do these amazing long dives and turn faster than a frigate. Not as fast as you, of course—” Her eyes landed on the peregrine falcon tattoo half-concealed by the collar of Blossom’s cloak.
Blossom couldn’t take it all in fast enough. “It’s beautiful,” she admitted of the pictured bird, but otherwise, she didn’t know what to say.
“I’ve thought about a peregrine. Of course, who hasn’t? Fastest bird in the realm. It’s an obvious contender, but I think this is the one for me. Then again, I have two years to figure it out,” Yveline continued, oblivious to Blossom’s confusion.
“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”
Yveline slid her panel back into her pocket and collected her tea. “That’s the hardest part about this job, don’t you think? So many complex decisions. I thought it would be easy, but it’s so much more than anyone thinks. Really, it is.” Her brows creased with worry, and for the first time, Blossom saw there was far more to the young Apprentice than she let on.
A moment later, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Herson answered and, as stoic as a statue, Eton walked over and joined them for the second time.
Blossom was more than a little irked he would so clearly disregard her instructions, especially when she was actually starting to like the Apprentice Vice Syndicate Dodd. “I told you, I don’t need—”
Eton only held out a large black coin. Blossom accepted it and turned it over in her hand, trying to figure out what it was. The surface was so shimmering smooth, she could catch glints of her own reflection, though it was disturbed by stamped images—a lotus flower on one side, a wide-winged bird on the other. “What is this?” Blossom asked when Eton produced no explanation.
Yveline startled them both when she rushed over and sank onto the couch beside Blossom, so close their hips touched. “It’s an offer,” she said as she took the coin into her hands. “Did she receive this just now?” Yveline asked Eton, who promptly nodded.