From their balcony, Marissa could see most of Gruud, Croish’s capital city. In spite of the hideous name, it was marvellous, the tall towers bursting with light as night approached. A purple sky crested over the horizon, the stars already twinkling dimly overhead even as the sun was still sinking. Marissa leaned over the side, careful not to bump the cast on her left arm, and looked down on the hotel grounds like a goddess on her creation. A mob had gathered at the base of the building—a horde of Aquilan media people eager for an interview or even a glimpse of the hotel’s newest guests.
Arc laughed beside her. “For a society that makes a point of hiding their faces, they sure want to get your picture.”
“Me?” Marissa raised an eyebrow. “Why would they want a picture of me?”
“Well, plenty of reasons,” Arc answered, affectionately. “You’re gorgeous, to start with, and I’m sure humans must seem pretty exotic to the locals.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious, Arc. Why me? You’re the one who saved Dae Trem.”
Arc gave her a knowing smile. “But I couldn’t have done that if you hadn’t saved me first. You were the one who went to Papos and led the charge, then slew that villainous Zulkar. You’re a hero now.”
“I-I am not!” Something fluttered in Marissa’s stomach, and she took a step back to keep from tottering over the railing. “I had a whole team helping me. Cassandra, Fredrichs and Barnes, the Rashani and Inferno Company—they all played as much of a role as I did.”
“Maybe, but they were smart enough to get out of here as fast as possible,” Arc replied. “Plus, as I said before, you’re a real stunner.”
It had only been a day since they’d come to Croish. Before that, they’d spent nearly two weeks on the Valiance while some of Corda’s fleet escorted them back through Freespace. Even before that there had been the clean-up; a sweep of the plateau for survivors, both friend and foe. They’d retrieved the bodies of Orson and Samson just beyond the wreckage of the Superius, and they found escape pods and a cluster of Zulkar not far from that, looking upon the ruins of their ship with dull eyes and listless expressions. There were twenty in all, and none of them put up a fight when they were captured. There’d been an argument over whose right it was to try them since they were in Corda’s territory, but Cassandra had stood her ground and the Zulkar had joined Surdt and the other prisoners in the Valiance’s brig. They were in Aquila custody now, and Marissa could only guess at what they’d be charged with.
Cassandra had gotten the Valiance out of there as soon as possible. She couldn’t have her face plastered all over the news if she wanted to keep her job liberating slaves a secret. She’d dropped everyone off at the Croish docking station in orbit, then flown off back to the Kinship with Fredrichs and the rest of the mercs. There had been some time for goodbyes, and Marissa had been surprised at how warm the merc commander had been.
“I think I’m seeing what Barnes saw in you,” Fredrichs had said, shaking her hand.
Mela had provided an explanation to the Aquila who had come to question them, and her position as a Rashani had earned their trust. She hadn’t remained long, though, saying it was her duty to take Vis and Nue home. They’d left on a special Aquila transport the same night as their arrival, taking their wounded Moonsaber pilot and that weird coffin-thing with them.
Marissa had been in the presence of the black object several times on the flight to Croish, but something about it had made her uncomfortable. It felt like something was hammering against the inside of her skull, and she could only spend a few minutes near the thing before she needed to lie down. There was something creepy about it too; why did it glow when she touched it, but not Arc or Dae Trem? Maybe the Rashani would find the answer.
Dae Trem was currently in the hospital, although he’d recovered from most of his injuries. According to Arc, it was a formality, an excuse to keep him out of the public eye until they were certain he was well. Did that make the two of them a distraction, then? Had the hotel room and the spiel about being honoured guests been a ruse to let Trem get some rest?
Arc looked up at the sky, his dark eyes catching the sinking sun’s light. “Beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Might be a nice place to come back to, someday.”
“I guess, but I could do without these.” He produced a pair of beak-shaped breathing devices from his pocket and pressed one over his nose. There was enough oxygen in the atmosphere that they didn’t need to wear them constantly, but going without for more than five minutes was not advised. The hotel room itself was actually airtight, specially configured in anticipation of the Kinship tourists that the treaty would bring, so they didn’t have to wear the beaks when they slept, at least. On the other hand, the doors looked like airlocks and took a full minute to open.
She took the other beak from Arc and pressed it to her face, the little tubes worming their way up her nostrils. “So, what now? What’s the next big thing for Arc Rhapsody, diplomatic hero?”
Arc sighed. “Something to do with the war, I imagine.”
Marissa’s jaw went slack. “But we stopped Shodus! I thought saving Dae Trem was supposed to stop the war.”
“No, we saved Dae Trem because it was the right thing to do. But an Imperial force attacked an Aquila station and killed a beloved diplomat. The Alliance can’t just let that go. Even if Shodus really was rogue, they will blame the Empire for not keeping him under control. There will be a war, and if we want to keep our new allies, the Kinship will be drawn in as well.”
“So we did all that for nothing?” Marissa felt her heart sinking. She might have said she didn’t care about the war, but so many lives had been lost to stop Shodus; it seemed like such a waste if their deaths had been in vain.
Arc squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Not nothing. Shodus wanted the Kinship and the Alliance at each other’s throats so that the Empire could easily conquer whatever was left. Yes, there will be a war, but we’ll be fighting the right people this time. I don’t want this, but I’d rather we knock the Empire down a few pegs than fight people who should be our friends.”
Marissa leaned into him. “Not the biggest comfort.”
Arc shrugged. “What else can I do? Emperor Bythos would never negotiate with us. We’ll get through this though—I promise you that. How’s your arm, by the way?”
Marissa lightly patted the cast over her left arm. “Doing good. Doctors said I’m healing quickly. How’s your back?”
“Still stings a little.” The Alliance government had been generous enough to pay for the operation to remove the brand earlier that morning.
“How’s it look?” Marissa asked.
“Like I’ve been a free man all my life.” Arc wrapped an arm around her, mindful of her cast. “Want to see?”
Marissa snickered. “In a minute. I’d like to see the end of this sunset first.”
Arc nodded, since nothing else needed to be said. As the purple sky darkened and the sun gave way to hundreds of little stars, Marissa thought about her future. When she got back to Aegis, she was going to seriously consider signing up for the Kinship Gladiatorial Tournament. After what she’d been through in the last month, fighting her way through the big leagues would be nothing. She’d have to consult with Coach of course, but she had a feeling her father would be more than pleased to see her getting on with her life.
* * *
Word of the successful mission had travelled through the Enclave within a couple of days, even without an official announcement from the Council. Alis’ return was common knowledge by now, and her condition was discussed in furtive whispers. That was the subject of most conversations Vis overheard, overshadowing the rescue of Dae Trem and Arc Rhapsody, the strange artifact that had been brought back, and Vis’ own personal achievement. The black casket had been placed under guard in a government facility, pending the selection of researchers to examine it. Vis would watch those developments with a keen interest. Over the two-week trip back home, he’d had plenty of time to examine the casket himself, but he didn’t have any scientific knowledge to apply. Now that he was away from it, Birthright hadn’t been hammering in his head for a few days now. Having a clear mind was refreshing, but he still wanted answers.
He’d been on a sort of break since returning to Utopia, and his training sessions with Syla had been put on hold to give him a chance to recuperate from the mission. He couldn’t be more thankful; he’d shared about three words and five glares with his teacher since his return, and he was in no hurry to resume their meetings. It wasn’t clear if she knew about his accomplishment with the Lucidil; Mela had mentioned it in her report to the Council, but that part of it didn’t appear to have spread among the Sisterhood’s gossips.
He had been using the spare time to visit Othus in the hospital. The pilot was getting better, talking more, eating solid foods, but he still couldn’t walk, so Vis had wheeled his chair down to a nearby park on his last visit. Nue had come with him the first time, but she’d been busy with Mela yesterday. Vis and Othus had talked about a broad range of topics, none of them important, but the Moonsaber pilot had seemed to enjoy their time together as much as Vis had.
Today Vis had business. He had been called down to Koyla’s office, and there was only one thing she could want to talk about: the Lucidil. Nue had let him use hers to help him practice a few times before, and he was beginning to get the hang of it. Suddenly all the advice he’d been given on shaping a Lucidil made sense, once he’d found the right mindset. Rashani said that anger was detrimental to their abilities, but it had been the burst of outrage he’d felt back on the Superius that had solved the puzzle for him. Marissa Rhapsody had advised him to use his anger, and she’d been right; to shape the Lucidil, all he had to do was think of all the shit he’d put up with, then use his emotions to bend the metal to his will. He still had a long way to go, just like Nue, but a Sikkat would help with that.
He almost skipped through the halls of the Enclave, ignoring the variety of looks the women he passed gave him. Now that he’d proven himself, he couldn’t be denied a Sikkat—a real teacher. Using the Lucidil for the first time was the hardest part of becoming a Rashani, and he’d finally overcome that mountain of a hurdle. He was practically one already; a few years of apprenticeship and he’d be on equal footing with Utopia’s greatest heroes. It was a dream come true, and knowing he wouldn’t have to see Syla’s sneering face any longer was a serious perk.
Koyla’s office was already quite full when he arrived. Mela and Alis were seated before Koyla’s wide desk, both wearing patiently strained expressions. Koyla stood on the other side, and standing beside her was Syla, of all people. She spoke to Koyla in a low voice, clearly angry about something. Her arms folded and refolded as she spoke, while the chairwoman listened with a calm expression. Vis closed the door behind him, and all eyes turned in his direction. Koyla smiled and motioned him to a seat between Alis and Mela. Syla shot him a glare as he sat, but he made a point to ignore it and turned to Alis.
“How are you feeling?” he whispered.
Alis leaned back in her seat and shrugged. “I could be worse. I still get headaches sometimes, and I’m a little frightened to touch my Lucidil. The worst part is the dizzy spells, though. I’ll just be walking along and then everything starts to move, and in seconds I’m on the floor. I feel like I need someone beside me when I go out, just to make sure I don’t fall and kill myself.”
Vis felt pity, and then shame. It seemed unfair that Alis should fall like this, just as he was beginning to rise. “Well, if you ever feel like taking a walk around the grounds, I’d be happy to help you stay on your feet.”
Alis smiled. “And yet everyone said you were a nasty one.”
Koyla lowered herself into her seat and cleared her throat. Syla remained standing, her greying dark hair parted to show the deep furrows on her brow.
“Thank you, Alis,” Koyla said, her voice gentle and tender. “I know talking about your situation is difficult, but we’ll get you the help you need. You may go now.”
Alis rubbed her forehead, looking at Koyla through half-lidded eyes. “I’m actually feeling a little woozy. I need a minute to recover, if that’s all right with you. Please, carry on and pretend I’m not here.”
“Of course, take all the time you need.” Koyla folded her hands together and turned to look at Vis. “I believe congratulations are in order, Vis. Mela has had only good things to say about your conduct during the mission.”
“He is an exemplary fighter, to say the least,” Mela added. “I had my doubts, but he proved me wrong on all counts. I believe his presence on the mission was a significant benefit, both to the success of the mission, and to Nue’s training. He has the heart of a Rashani, without question.”
Syla let out a snort, turning her eyes up towards the ceiling. Koyla let it pass without comment.
“Thank you, Mela,” the chairwoman continued, opening a drawer in her desk. “Vis, I am told you managed to use a Lucidil as well.”
Vis nodded excitedly. “I did. It was Nue’s, she—”
Koyla quieted him with a raised hand before placing a silver ball on the desk. “I have heard the story, and I’m proud to hear of your efforts to save your Sister. What I would like you to do now is show me what you can do.”
Vis took the Lucidil in his hands, recalling a similar situation a little over a month ago. His fine features stared back at him from the reflective surface, and he remembered that sense of helpless failure. Not this time.
Syla sneered. “He can’t do it. It was a fluke, just like I told you, Koyla.”
“You’re wrong about that, Syla.” A malicious smirk crossed Vis’ face. “Believe me, with you around, I can’t help but succeed.” With a single thought, the Lucidil quivered to life and stretched out into an imitation of the rose sitting on Koyla’s desk, down to the thorns lining its stem. He held it high for everyone to see, and felt a particular joy at the look of horror on Syla’s face. Beside him, Alis clapped.
Koyla put a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. Her face softened, and then she pulled her hand away to show a beaming smile. “Bravo, Vis! I’d hoped to see this day.”
Heat spread across Vis’ face. “Th-thank you.”
“Disgusting,” Syla grumbled, just loud enough for Vis to hear.
Koyla shot her a warning glance before turning back to Vis. “The Lucidil is yours—take good care of it. Now, we must discuss the matter of your Sikkat.”
Syla’s expression suddenly turned to poisonous glee. Vis felt some apprehension at that; nothing that made her happy could be good for him.
Koyla’s expression had also changed; wrinkles stood out on her face, the corners of her mouth hanging low. “I spent some time speaking with a number of Rashani looking to take apprentices. I’m afraid most of them refused to teach you. In fact, I could find only one who gave me a definite ‘yes’.”
Vis felt a shock of realization. Oh no.
Koyla clearly sensed what he felt and closed her eyes in sympathy. “Syla was the only one who volunteered to be your Sikkat.”
“No!” Vis shouted, leaping to his feet.
Koyla kept a calm composure, but weary lines traced her face. “Vis, please—”
“I said no!” Vis yelled again, his voice quivering with desperation. “I have the right to refuse, and I refuse her.”
Syla pressed her palms on the desk and leaned towards him. “Sit down, you stupid brat! You don’t get to choose this time.”
“Get your hands off my desk, please,” Koyla said, sharply. “I’m afraid she’s right, Vis. You need a Sikkat if you’re going to continue your training, and Syla is the only willing candidate.”
Vis clutched his new Lucidil in a tight grip, the thorns digging into his fingers. “But she hates me! She’s been sabotaging me for years!”
Koyla bit her lip. “I know you and Syla have your disagreements, but I think you’re exaggerating.”
“You know I’m not!” Vis snapped. He felt betrayed; why had they gone to the trouble of getting his hopes up, only to dash them like this? Nothing was going to change, nothing at all.
He turned to Mela and saw the cracks forming in her calm facade. “You could be my Sikkat, couldn’t you? It’s like you said—Nue and I work well together. You could teach us both.”
Mela flicked her eyes away. “I would like to, I really would, but that’s not allowed. One apprentice, one Sikkat. If I were to take on a second, I wouldn’t have time to give you both proper training. I’m sorry.”
He prepared to spit some piece of vitriol in her face, but stopped himself. Mela spoke the truth, and he couldn’t fault her for that, no matter how much it hurt. He hung his head. “My training is going to suffer either way.”
“Enough of your moping!” Syla barked, her expression hardening. “I won’t have you insulting my integrity as a Rashani. You’ll continue training under me, or you’ll stay a trainee the rest of your life. Maybe that’s what you want, to be a whiny little boy forever?”
Koyla struck a hand against her desk. “Syla, please, be respectful!”
Syla bowed half-heartedly. “My apologies, but I’ve spent years dealing with this boy’s moods. It has begun to grow quite tiresome.”
“One wonders why you keep at it,” Vis muttered, glaring. Much as he hated to admit it, she was right: it was her or no one. He’d struggled through her time as his teacher, learning in spite of her sneers and contemptuous comments. He could do the same as her apprentice, push through it and come out a Rashani. What worried him was how poor a Rashani her tutoring might make him in the end.
Syla smiled, showing a little too much of her teeth. “Our laws require that someone has to teach you your proper place, so I take on the burden to spare my Sisters. All this talk of sabotage is just petulant nonsense. If you fail to become a Rashani, it will be because you are not worthy of being one.”
A strained voice nudged into the discussion. “You said you asked everyone?”
All eyes turned, seeking out the speaker. Vis found her first, forcing herself to sit straight in her chair beside him.
“I said,” Alis repeated, “you asked everyone?”
Koyla nodded. “Every Rashani seeking an apprentice, yes.”
Alis frowned. In that moment, her sickness seemed to have vanished, replaced by wry amusement. “But, ma’am, you didn’t ask me.”
Vis felt his heart leap into his throat. Was she serious?
Koyla looked equally surprised. “I wasn’t aware you were seeking an apprentice, Alis.”
“Well, I wasn’t until just now,” Alis replied. “Hearing Syla talk filled me with… let’s call it ‘inspiration’. Given my current situation, I probably won’t be able to fulfill my duties as an active Rashani for awhile. I think taking an apprentice would help keep me busy until I’ve recovered.”
Syla’s mouth hung ajar. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious,” Alis replied, not bothering to look at the older Rashani as she spoke. “In fact, I’d say I’m far more serious about this than you are.”
“But you can’t!” Syla exclaimed. “He’s unnatural, an abomination! Would you really risk your reputation to teach him?”
Koyla began to chide Syla, but Alis cut in. “You seem to do it without any repercussions. In fact, seeing how enthusiastic you are at the prospect of being his Sikkat, I have to wonder if you know something everyone else doesn’t.”
“That’s enough, both of you.” Koyla’s voice was conversational, but her words carried all the force of a shout. “I won’t have any more bickering in my office. Both of you know that it falls to Vis to choose his Sikkat. Alis, if you’re truly willing to teach him, I ask that you give him a formal offer.”
Vis had been experiencing the strange feeling of being invisible for the last minute, his mind fluttering with confusion while others argued around him. When Alis turned to him, he felt himself pulled back down to the earth, standing at the centre of attention.
Alis cleared her throat. “Vis, I must apologize to you. The difference in our age is not so great, yet I have avoided you my entire life because I believed all the stories and hateful accusations put on you. But you came to save me as any of my Sisters would, and when I finally spoke with you, it became clear that you were no abomination. I’m sorry that I never took the chance to get to know you, and as an apology, I’d like to be your Sikkat. My illness limits me in many ways, and I don’t think we’ll be doing much fieldwork, but I have the knowledge and experience, if you’d like it. Syla said she’d show you your proper place—I’ll show you how to shoot for the stars.”
Vis’ heart hammered in his ears. He glanced around the room once more, noting Syla’s outrage, Koyla’s gentle smile, and Mela stifling a laugh with a hand over her mouth. He didn’t need to think about this.
He bent before Alis, took her hands in his own, and pressed his lips against her knuckles in the traditional form of acceptance. “I would be honoured, Sikkat.”
“Then it’s settled,” Koyla said. “Vis, you will begin your apprenticeship when Alis is able. For now, though, she looks like she could do with some rest. Mela, would you please escort Alis back to her room?”
As Mela helped Alis out of her seat, Vis spoke to his new Sikkat. “Thank you.”
Alis gave a weak smile. “You can thank me by being the best apprentice you can be.”
Vis bowed, then let them pass. Then he bowed to Koyla and made to leave himself.
“You’ve made a grave mistake!” Syla burst out.
Vis stopped, just for a moment. “No Syla, the only mistake I ever made was meeting you.” And with that he was gone, now literally skipping through the halls. He had to find Nue and share this wonderful news.
* * *
He scoured a good portion of the Enclave to find Nue, checking the dining hall, the library, and even her room. After about an hour, he decided to swing by his own room for a nap and try again later, but then there she was, idling outside his door. He held his new Lucidil behind his back and casually approached her.
“Hey Nue, were you looking for me?” he asked, grinning like a complete fool.
Nue started, her eyes widening at the sight of him. She took a few steps back, anxiously adjusting her robes. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Vis was surprised. Nue must have been deep in thought if she hadn’t sensed him. “You know this is my room, right?” he asked, teasingly. “You have a pretty good chance of running into me here, unless they’re serving cake in the dining hall.”
“I-I know that!” Nue exclaimed. “I just didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”
Vis frowned. “Why did you come here if you knew I was out?” He was beginning to detect a feeling of apprehension from Nue, but it slithered away when his senses touched upon it. He tried to catch it, only to run up against a mental wall. He began to feel the first inklings of his own worry.
“That’s not what I meant!” Nue blurted out. “I was waiting for you—I just thought I’d be waiting longer.” She suddenly brightened. “Oh! What did Koyla say?”
She’d just lied to him. Vis felt it like a sharp stab in his heart, impossible to miss. She didn’t have the practice or experience that Vis had with lying to other Rashani, and the thought that she would try, with him, set his mind racing. What could she be hiding from him?
He’d meant to surprise her with the Lucidil; to tease her a little longer before proudly presenting his victory, but his enthusiasm had suddenly evaporated. He moved his arm from behind his back and showed it to her. Nue registered surprise, but it seemed dampened by something else.
“Oh, Vis, that’s wonderful,” she said. “Have you found a Sikkat?”
“Alis,” Vis said, flatly. “Not the wise veteran I might have hoped for, but I like her, and it’s a good deal better than the alternative.” A little of his earlier enthusiasm returned. “Just think—it won’t be much longer until both of us are real Rashani.”
Nue gave him a withered smile. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it as well.” Her eyes slowly wandered to the side, then suddenly snapped back to him, widening.
Vis followed where she’d been looking. The door to his room was ajar and he could see the dim light of his desk lamp shining through the crack. He could have sworn he’d turned that off before he’d gone out.
He looked back to Nue, who shrank under his gaze. “Did you go into my room?” Normally, he wouldn’t have cared; he’d always welcomed her company and had never told her his room was off-limits, but her suspicious behaviour had him dreading what she might have done.
“I just peeked inside to see if you were in,” Nue said quickly. She shifted her robes again, and then Vis saw it; a rectangular outline beneath the fabric, her right arm pressed down to hold it in place in what she probably thought was a discreet manner.
“What are you hiding from me?” Vis asked, his voice rising on its own. He thrust a finger at the shape beneath her robe, and Nue took a step back.
Nue swallowed, and then she changed. The wide eyes, the fearful twitches, and the nervous smile all vanished, replaced by a cold, almost angry expression. She straightened up, her green eyes piercing into his soul. A chill ran down Vis’ spine. She reached into her robe and held out Vis’ computer for him to see. It was on, and he didn’t need to read the text on screen to know what it was. Still, he refused to admit it. He might panic if he did.
He forced a smile, desperately searching for a way to laugh this off. “Looking for my porn stash? If you were curious about what I was into, you could’ve just asked.”
“Vis.” A single syllable, said with such coldness that it killed his hopes dead. Nue took his arm and pulled him into his room, firmly shutting the door behind them. Vis didn’t have the will to resist.
Now hidden from possible eavesdroppers, Nue exploded. “I can’t believe you did this, Vis! This book is heresy—every student has that hammered into their head before they can even read. Where did you even find this?”
“The Great Library on Croish,” Vis answered, voice rasping. “I found it completely by chance. I don’t think even the Aquila knew what they had. I know I should’ve let it be, but I just couldn’t.”
“This is a serious crime,” Nue said, some of her usual concern creeping into her voice. “Bringing this back to the Enclave is going to have serious consequences.”
Vis nodded reluctantly. “What are you going to do about it?”
Nue visibly hesitated, eyeing the small computer with distaste. “I’m not sure yet. Delete it, of course, but first I might take it to Koyla.”
“You can’t!” Vis exclaimed, grabbing hold of Nue’s shoulders. “Please—if you show it to Koyla, it’ll all be over. I’ll lose my Lucidil and be kicked out of the Enclave. They might even kill me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Nue said, her uncertainty hovering in the air between them. “The Enclave doesn’t execute people! Even if they did, Koyla would never allow that—she loves you.”
Vis took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He was actually shaking a little. “Whatever her feelings about me, she is still loyal to the Enclave and its laws. Maybe I won’t be executed, but I will be forced to leave, and I’ll never get to see you again.”
Nue furrowed her brow and she was quiet for a long moment. “Why did you do this? Please tell me.”
Vis leaned in closer to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. What he was about to say was a secret he’d carried for years, and it wasn’t easy to speak it. “She’s my mother, Nue. Zira, Daughter of Lindi, I mean.”
Nue looked more surprised than ever. “How do you know?”
“I just do,” Vis said, firmly. “It makes sense. Why else won’t anyone, even Koyla, tell me who my mother was, unless it would put further shame on me? The heretic gives birth to an abomination—maybe my birth was what inspired her to be a heretic in the first place. Here, let me show you this passage.”
“No, Vis,” Nue protested. “I can’t read it.”
“Right, of course.” It would be wrong to drag Nue into his own sins. “But I took the book because I hardly knew her. You have both of your parents, so maybe you can’t understand, but this is the only thing I have of my mother’s, the only way I can learn about who she really was. I don’t care about what sinful things she said, I’m not a heretic—I just want to know about my mother.” His voice was wavering at the end, and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.
Very slowly, Nue placed the computer on his bed, never breaking eye contact with him. “All right. I’ll keep it a secret, so long as that’s all you’re reading it for. I don’t want to see you go. I was just worried about you.”
“I understand. Thank you.” They were only inches apart now, and Vis could feel Nue’s warm breath on his face. Their minds touched tentatively, and Vis felt a strong pull. He closed the distance, pressing his lips against hers.
When he pulled away, Nue was blushing furiously. She began to smile, then faltered, then smiled anyway. She flicked her finger over one of her bangs, twisting it around. “I, um, ah…” She trailed off, her mouth moving but no words coming out. Vis was having the same problem, and his own face was on fire.
“You…” Vis began.
“I…” Nue tried to say.
They fell into a deep silence, but in the absence of words, they spoke through feelings. Happiness blossomed from Nue and filled Vis’ mind with warm sensations. He returned the feeling, mixed with his gratitude. In some ways it was better than talking, being able to show how you felt directly.
At last, Vis managed to regain control over his tongue. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Through the garden?” Nue asked, shyly.
“I was thinking a little further than that. Like, into town? I know a few restaurants that let Rashani eat for free and serve good food.”
“I don’t believe you,” Nue said, grinning. “You’ll have to take me and prove it. When do you want to go?”
“Um, how about now?” It was coming up on dinner time, now that Vis checked.
“OK, lead the way,” Nue said, stepping beside him. Her hand worked its way into his own, and Vis felt another wave of heat pass through him. They walked out together, talking and laughing, forgetting about any talk of heresy or banishment.