by Lyn Forester
Bastian stands behind her, his large arms folded over an equally large chest. His white braid drapes over one shoulder, giving him a warrior appearance.
Myrrine jumps up and down, her arms waving, her high energy in direct contrast to his solid stoicism. Even after she catches my attention, she continues to bounce, her excitement too much to contain. A diaphanous white dress flutters and billows with her movements, like clouds on a sunny day, and a series of crystal bands hold back her puffy, pink hair.
I’m glad the Dean waylaid Nikola and Garrett in the administration building for their orientation. It gives me a moment of peace to reconnect with my roommate after our time apart. The relief at seeing her once more comes as a surprise. We’ve grown close sharing our small bedroom, but until I saw her again, I didn’t realize I missed her every bit as much as I missed the guys.
The reins of my house prevent me from rushing forward, but I lengthen my steps as much as possible to reach her sooner. “Hey, Myrrine, I’m surprised you got here ahead of— Umph.”
Myrrine springs forward as soon as I’m within arm’s reach and pulls me into a tight embrace, mashing my face into her generous bosom. She stands a head taller than me on a normal day, and in her soft dress and heels, she practically towers over me.
Soft sniffs ghost along the crown of my head and down to my ears, and she squeezes me tighter. “I have missed you, my flower.”
Heat engulfs my face, and I struggle to push her back. “Myrrine, we’ve talked about this.”
Her cheek rubs against the top of my head. “But I have missed you.”
“My lady,” Bastian rumbles, ever the voice of reason for his spontaneous charge. “It is not appropriate to sniff Caitlyn in public like this. We are not the only halions present.”
The halions, who crash landed on this toxic planet at the same time humans did, resemble us in many ways, though they’re physically superior and come in a range of colors not seen in humans. But over the many years of being trapped on this planet together, the halions have struggled more than humans, which has led to an imbalance between the number of males born to the number of females.
While Myrrine isn’t the only halion at our school, she is the only female. Hence her need for a bodyguard. APA is a place for our two species to mingle safely, but until this semester, all the halion students were comprised of men from families who planned to work in fields where humans and halions intermingle.
Myrrine’s family allowed her to attend to study for her future position as an ambassador between the Riellio Clan and the stacked cities, a prestigious position that she gained through the unfortunate position of not displaying the same talent as her family.
Halion talents are a mysterious thing that human scientists have as yet been unable to reproduce. They call it science, but some of the more extreme ones hint at what our forefathers on Earth would have labeled magic. Like Myrrine’s family. We’ve never really talked about it directly, but she implied on our first day together that they were some kind of mind readers, something Myrrine is unable to do, thank goodness.
At last, Myrrine releases me, and when I step back, I find her cheeks flushed a pretty yellow with swirls of purple. Her bright blue gaze runs over me as if to make sure I returned with all the same body parts I left with. I do the same with her, noting how the opalescent swirls on her skin appear darker, and she now wears purple crystals in her ears.
“I missed you, too.” I lean around her to see Bastion. “How are you doing, Bastion?”
“I am glad to return here, where the dangers are fewer.” His crystalline gaze sweeps the broad expanse of grass that separates the administration building from the school, as if concerned an enemy hides in the one inch grass. “My lady did not make things as easy for me as she could have.”
Myrrine leans close to my ear. “He’s grumpy I snuck off for a rendezvous with my precious Troscana. But my rose is delicate and would not be glad for Bastian’s watchful eye. I will tell you all about it once we’re ensconced in our room.”
Blood rushes to my face once more. “I really don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Nor I,” Bastian puts in. “Once was enough.”
Since he sleeps in our closet, he’ll hear the whole story, too.
Myrrine’s plump, purple lip pokes out. “You are both killjoys.”
“You had enough joy at home,” Bastian grumbles. “It’s time to be respectable once more.”
Myrrine’s eyes narrow as she fixes her attention on me and ignores her bodyguard. “You know, he was a lot less talkative at the colony. He hasn’t quieted once since our shuttle landed.”
I give him a sympathetic glance. It can’t be easy to be the silent wall to Myrrine’s bubbly personality.
Reminded of my own less than silent guardians who will soon come out of the administration building, I motion for Bastian and Myrrine to head toward the school. “How did you arrive so quickly?”
She turns in a swirl of white skirt to reveal her bare back. The dress rides low on her hips in the back to display as much of her large halion birthmark as possible. Slightly darker than her natural skin, it swirls ghost-like across her back in a cloud pattern.
Every pureblood halion has a birthmark like this, though the size of Myrrine’s is significant to her family. Halion society runs in three echelons, with the lowest level reserved for halions born without talents, the middle level for those who display minor talents, and the top for the ruling class, who possess multiple talents. The birthmarks, too, have meaning, though I’m not sure what they are.
All I know is Myrrine walks around with hers on display whenever possible, which means walking around topless in our room. Not something I’ve gotten used to.
Myrrine glances back over her shoulder, follows the direction of my eyes, and raises her feathery pink eyebrows. “Yes, my mark is quite magnificent. You are welcome to examine it any time you wish, Caitlyn.”
“No, I’m good.” I lengthen my stride to catch up to her, and Bastian takes his position at our backs. “I’ve seen it enough.”
“I will be sad to return to the school uniform.” She releases a deep sigh. “They’re so restrictive, without any movement.”
Hands tucked into my pockets, I grip the reassuring edges of my palm-port. “I like them. It takes away the need to be original every day.”
Her lips part in surprise. “Every day? You never wear the same outfit more than once?”
I shake my head. “Not in public.”
She spins on one heel. “Bastian, did you know about this?”
I glance back to catch the shake of his head. “It sounds wasteful.”
“It sounds glorious.” She fists the light fabric of her skirt. “I could have this in every shade of blue the sky can hold. And imagine the grays.” She waves a hand at her cheeks, now a solid rose of excitement. She practically swoons in place. “And the whites.”
“You’ll work Lina’s hands to the bones.” Bastian shakes his head once more. “She’ll hate you for sure.”
“Bite your tongue.” She snaps her fingers under his nose before turning back to link her arm through mine. “Bastian just doesn’t understand fashion.”
Since I’m on his side, I keep my lips sealed.
“So, back to our previous conversation.”
I stare at her blankly, unable to remember what we were talking about before fashion.
She hugs me closer. “About how we arrived ahead of you.”
“Oh, yeah. How’d that happen? The Riellio colony is half the world away.”
“There’s a storm bringer pod hovering on our perimeter. We thought it safest to launch as soon as we received word we could return. Otherwise, we might have been trapped there for weeks.”
Concerned, I peer up at her. “Does that happen often?”
The giant, gelatinous creatures that live in the clouds can take down aircrafts if they catch them. The beasts feed on electricity and drain any source they get their tentacles on.
The creatures rarely come close to the city, but when they do, the entire city goes dark for hours. Their smaller brethren, sky skippers, squeeze through the city curtain all the time, chasing the slipstreams of incoming vessels, and wreak havoc with the grid. Exterminators are on constant watch for them.
“Usually, the power nodes hold them at bay. But on occasion, they pull away from them to investigate our colony.” She shrugs. “It makes for a time of revelry, of sorts. The Riellios can be a lot of fun when they let their hair down.”
Myrrine seems fun enough. I don’t know if I could handle her with her hair down.
Behind us, Bastian grunts, which I take to mean he finds it difficult, too.
“Caitlyn, hold up!” a male voice calls from farther back, and my shoulders hunch.
Damn, I thought I’d have more time.
Our small group stops once more, almost within the shadow of the library, and we turn to face the administration building.
Nikola and Garrett stride down the path, the Dean close behind. The statuesque woman somehow keeps up with them in her needle-sharp heels, a marvel of grace and poise I aspire to attain someday.
“Who are these men?” Myrrine whispers as Bastian moves to stand in front of his charge. “They look familiar.”
“They’re two of the candidates for secretary I showed you.” My spine straightens as they reach us, and I look past them to the Dean. “Ma’am?”
Her cool gaze meets mine. “Since Nikola and Garrett are an unexpected addition to our student body, I thought you could take the burden of showing them around.”
Inside my pockets, my hands form fists. “Of course, Dean.”
The corners of her lips tighten. “Without more warning, we were unable to acquire additional wristbands. You are responsible for their actions until this oversight can be rectified. See that they stay out of trouble, or it will extend your probation time.”
I bow my head. “Yes, Dean.”
Without another word, she turns sharply and marches back to the administration building.
The five of us stand in awkward silence before Garrett pastes on a smile and sticks his hand out to Bastian. “I’m Garrett Latven. A pleasure to meet you.”
Bastian’s arms remain folded over his chest as he stares down at the sandy-haired man. Garrett’s arm drops back to his side as he casts me a questioning look.
With a sigh, I gesture to the two men. “Nikola, Garrett, may I present Lady Myrrine Albonei and her bodyguard, Bastian. Myrrine, Bastian, these are my acting-Secretaries for the interim.”
Nikola clasps his hands behind his back and bows a fraction toward Myrrine’s hidden form. “It is a pleasure. The Albonei family is spoken of in high regard.”
Garrett follows his example, his bow a fraction lower in apology. “A pleasure, Lady Albonei.”
Myrrine, for her part, swats Bastian’s back. “Stop it. These are Caitlyn’s...” She turns a confused look to me and mouths, “Mates?”
My eyes widen in panic, and I quickly fill in the gap. “They are here as students, the same as Declan and Felix. They will not be acting as my secretaries while they study, unless some school function comes up where they are required to do so.”
Bastian finally speaks. “I was not given a dossier on them.”
“I’ll have one delivered right away.” Nikola swiftly pulls out his palm-port and begins to type. “Would you prefer the APA background check, the Lonette family background check, or a new one to be drafted by the agency of your choice?”
Bastian unbends a little at the offer. “The first two will suffice for now, though I will order the other from a contact used by the Riellio Head Families. To do less would be to fail.”
“So formal!” Myrrine throws her hands up. “They are Caitlyn’s people. She didn’t demand the same from you.”
No, but I should have. It just never occurred to me to question Bastian past his place as Myrrine’s bodyguard. I’m a horrible politician-in-training.
I lean behind the behemoth to hiss, “Don’t make Bastian feel bad for doing his job.”
“He’s over doing his job,” Myrrine hisses back. “I’m fully capable of crushing a human.” Then her lips part, and she hurries to add, “Not that I would crush a human. You are perfectly safe with me, Caitlyn.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I reach out to pat her slender arm.
It doesn’t feel like an arm that can swat me like an annoying sky skipper, but halions are naturally superior to humans in strength and speed. It’s a matter of physiology and not something to be offended over.
She wiggles in place, her arms lifting as she takes an abortive step toward me before restraining herself.
I’m in for a lot of hugging and sniffing in the near future. I can feel it. For whatever reason, Myrrine finds my scent appealing and likes to smell me. She’d gotten used to it before we left, but her immunity seems to have vanished during our short separation. It’s a halion thing I don’t understand, but I try to tolerate it for her sake.
Nikola and Bastian murmur together, and soon, Nikola slides his palm-port back into his pocket.
I glance at Myrrine once more. “Maybe you guys should go ahead while I do the tour. I don’t want to subject you to it again.”
“Nonsense.” Myrrine links her arm through mine once more and drags me into Bastian’s shadow. “You’re horrible at study. You’ll forget things if I’m not with you.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.
She leans closer to sniff at my ear and releases a contented sigh. “It is my pleasure.”
The Coos of Home
“And this is Lonette Hall, where all the student dorms reside.” I gesture to the two-story, golden-brick building we stop in front of, with a plaque above the dark wooden doors proclaiming its name.
On the second-story, small windows reflect the twin suns overhead in a mixture of yellow and orange. The glass dome protects us from the heat, but the glare gets pretty intense at mid-day, when the suns drift directly overhead. On Level 13, the highest point in Leton city, the globes appear massive.
Even Nikola couldn’t hide his reaction when we stepped into the circular plaza around which the school buildings form a wall of brick. An ancient tree crouches in the center, its low-hanging branches almost brushing the grass beneath it. One of the first non-poisonous trees grown, once our ancestors tamed a small section of the toxic jungle to build Leton, the first of the stacked city structures.
I take the first step up toward the dorm. “We’ll have to find Archie. He’s the first year’s Resident Advisor. He’ll know what room you’re assigned to.”
“Room?” Tightness fills Nikola’s voice. “Just one?”
It surprised me, at first, too. “We all share, no matter our station.”
“Then, as your secretaries, we should share with you,” he protests.
I glance back, concerned at the panic I sense from Nikola. His palms press to his thighs, his movements stiff as he walks up the stairs.
Before I can respond, Myrrine slips an arm around me. “Caitlyn is my roommate. The only one I’m allowed to have here.”
“Don’t worry, Nikky.” Garrett reaches out to ruffle Nikola’s fine black hair. “It will be like old times again.”
Nikola dodges to the side, out of reach. “It will be nothing like old times.”
Garrett purses his lips. “True, we’ve never been at the same grade level before. This could be even more fun.”
Lips tight, Nikola stays silent.
What does Garrett mean like old times? He was ahead of Nikola in schooling. They shouldn’t have interacted much. I keep the questions to myself, though. If Nikola wants to tell me, he will in his own time.
Bastian lifts a hand for us to hold at the landing as he leaves his position at Myrrine’s back long enough to open the door, his gaze sweeping the interior.
I remember my first time standing at these doors with Declan at my side, the twins playful on the stairs below. He
re, Declan and I made our first plans to flee the school, unwilling to go along with our families’ plans for us.
I stare at the stone tiles, an ache opening in my chest as his fierce whisper fills my memory. ‘We should stick together. Keep each other from being assimilated while we’re here.’
But he’s not here. Family obligation already pressing on him to conform.
I shake away the thoughts as Bastian gives us the all clear sign to enter. Declan will return, and he’ll still be the same brash, determined man I competed against and fell for.
Unaware of the spiral of doubt that fills my mind, Myrrine pulls me inside. The stone of the outer landing extends into a mock foyer, which gives way to dark wooden floors. The same dark wood runs halfway up the walls, with hunter-green paint above. It gives the large room a false sense of coziness.
Two long couches form an L-shape in front of a holo-screen, which currently runs the news channel. A dark-haired man sits alone in the center of one and twists to glance at us as we enter.
In the next moment, he bounds to his feet with a wide grin.
“You must be the new arrivals Dean Kauffman messaged me about.” He strides around the couch, his hand out. “I’m Archie Vanderby, I’ll be your Resident Advisor this year.”
Archie already wears the school uniform of an upperclassman, a soft blue sweater and brown corduroy pants. When we first met, I assumed it was his choice, but later learned each year is color coded. While we have a few different designs to choose from, each year is assigned a specific color. It bothered me at first, but I soon learned to love it. It makes knowing who I interact with easier.
Archie’s rust-brown eyes twinkle as he shakes Nikola’s hand first. “You must be Nikola Koskov, which makes you Garrett Latven.”
The men exchange polite greetings with none of the posturing Archie and Declan indulged in when they first met.
“And Bastian, good to see you back, man.” Archie slaps the much larger man on the back in a friendly greeting. “You have fun back home?”