“Is there a point to this?” Kyon asks as he leans back in his chair.
I lean back in mine as well. I wipe my mouth with my napkin before resting it by my plate. “No. No point. Just making conversation.”
Kyon rises from his seat and extends his hand to me. “You want to talk? I’ll show you around and you can talk.”
I eye his hand for a moment. I don’t take it, but stand on my own and push my chair away from the table. “Oscil,” he says in an even tone. “Clear the table.” He indicates that I should follow him back into the house.
On the way, I look over my shoulder. A large hole opens in the center of the table. The dirty plates are magnetically pulled into it and swallowed up, then the hole disappears and the table resumes its solid form. A floating tray passes over the top of the table, spraying it with a cleaner and using a robotic arm to clean the surface. I watch it all with fascination before I feel Kyon’s hand on the small of my back guiding me away.
We enter through the bedroom archway, and he walks me through the elegant room to the doorway on the left. Once through it, we enter a high glass-ceilinged room. It’s a solarium of sorts that looks like an upside-down Viking ship. Wooden ribs jut out from the long spine and frame the glass panels of the ceiling. Glass walls facing the sea automatically lower and recess into the floor as we walk through the space, allowing the ocean breeze to touch my skin. A small river of water runs down the center of the room from one fountain into another at the opposite end. There are deck chairs and low tables arranged here and there for sitting and enjoying the view of the water outside.
A spiral staircase at the end of the room winds up through the ceiling to the next level. Taking the stairs up, we arrive at the next floor. Another gallery greets us. This one has wood-plank floors. Sconce lighting lines the walls. We pass doors to closed rooms. “What’s in them?” I ask.
“They’re guest rooms,” Kyon replies. We pause at one, and Kyon opens it. It’s a beautiful space with a view overlooking the floral garden on the other side of the house, but there are no furnishings. It’s empty inside. I glance out the window; garden-bots hover about on the grounds below, trimming shrubbery into perfect angles.
“So . . . no one stays here with you?”
“You’re the first.”
Lucky me! I think sarcastically. Turning away from the window, we quietly leave the room. We cross a gallery without opening any more doors. Finding another spiral staircase that climbs up into the ceiling, I grasp the trident-shaped wrought-iron newel. These stairs take us to the third floor, where a large office sits at the end of a short hallway.
The office is a command center. Every aspect of the island is visible by way of the virtual screens that encompass the circumference of the room. The island isn’t very big, maybe three or four miles. It’s shaped like a star, and from what the satellite imagery reveals, there are only a few other smaller buildings on the island.
“What are these?” I ask, pointing to a screen that shows a couple of thatched roofs fit between clusters of palm trees on the other side of the island.
“Small cottages. No one lives in them. They’re for our use.”
“And this?” I point to a huge building on the top of a mesa near a rapidly flowing waterfall.
“Hangar. It’s where I store all the skiffs and airships. Have you learned to operate any of them?” he asks.
“No.”
“Would you like to?”
I peek at him suspiciously. “Yes.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Why would you?” I ask.
“It’s a skill you need to know, don’t you agree?”
“I heard that priestesses aren’t taught those kinds of skills,” I say with a frown. They’re treated like pretty idiots until someone wants to use whatever extrasensory gift they possess, then they’re tapped and used for their expertise—whether they agree to it or not.
“They’re not, but you and I will hold ourselves to a higher standard.”
I look away from him as I process his answer. “And this building?” I ask, pointing to the largest building other than the house.
“Boathouse.”
I look around his office. There’s a solid wooden desk that is something only a pirate would own. I go to it and