Darken the Stars - Amy A. Bartol Page 0,55

Chandrum asks, looking startled.

“The citizens of Urbenoster,” Kyon says this like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“But . . . she’s a priestess. The Brotherhood doesn’t allow them to mingle with common citizens.” Chandrum smiles like Kyon just said something completely ridiculous. “She should be with her own kind—with her sister Nezra. They’ve made a place for her at Freming House—for both of you. I understand that now that you’ve bonded to her, you won’t want to be apart from her, but you have to compromise. You know that the Brothers have rights to her gifts as well.”

“No one has any rights to her but me. I tracked her. I found her. I fought for her. I claimed her. If it were not for me, she’d be dead to us. Those same Brothers who think they have a claim to her were also the ones who planned to assassinate her while she was in Rafe. When they did that, they forfeited any rights to her. Kricket and I won’t be staying at Freming House. We’ll be staying at my estate in Urbenoster. Should any of the Brothers want to meet her, they’ll have to do so at my leisure and only with my permission.”

“You know that you will always have my loyalty,” Chandrum lies.

“I know it,” Kyon lies as well.

“Should I bring Nezra to you to greet Kricket?”

Kyon looks at me and I stiffen at the mention of my half sister’s name.

“No. Not just yet. I think Kricket needs time to adjust to her new life before we try to make them play nice together.”

Chandrum ventures to smile. “You know Nezra.”

“I do,” he agrees.

“I’ll leave you here then.” Chandrum nods then turns to me, smiling. “It’s been a great pleasure to greet you, Kricket. Congratulations on your Pairing to Kyon. It was an honor to have been a witness to it.”

I want to kick him off his ship. I doubt he would lift a finger to help us if things go bad for us. My smile is as bright as his as I say, “Yes, such a pleasure to meet you, Chandrum. Please give my regards to my sweet sister Nezra.”

Chandrum doesn’t know if I’m being serious or sarcastic. Kyon knows, though. He sees that I’m brittle beneath my smiling veneer. Chandrum turns away and disembarks from his aircraft.

I raise a shaky hand to my forehead, rubbing it. “He’s not loyal to you, but you know that.”

“Yes, I know it,” Kyon agrees. “I don’t blame him. He’s weak. He has always been weak.”

“You’re sure that they don’t know that I can tell when they’re lying?”

“Who would tell them?” Kyon asks. “The only other person from Alameeda who knew about your ability to decipher lies was Em Nark, but he blew up somewhere over Rafe territory before he had the chance to reveal it, and I don’t tell your secrets to anyone.”

“How do they know that I can see the future, then?” I ask him.

“They knew your mother. They were sure you would inherit her gene.”

“Why are they so sure?” I know that neither my older half sister, Nezra, nor my younger sister, Astrid, seem to have the trait.

“When your mother was very young, she was unguarded. She gave Excelsior her predictions without thought. She was a naïve child. She didn’t understand the ramifications of what she saw. When Arissa was asked if any of her own children would inherit her ability to see the future she said, ‘I will bequeath it to my strongest daughter.’”

“How did you know she meant me?”

“How could she not?” he replies. “You survived Earth alone. Come, do you want to learn how to fly Chandrum’s Hallafast? If you crash it, it won’t cost me a thing.”

I drop my hand as I stare at Kyon. “Did you just make a joke? Now? After what just happened out there?” I point outside where corpses are littering the hoverpad.

He smiles. “Too soon?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot feel bad for them. They were going to kill us.” He takes my hand, leading me toward the front of the Hallafast. He hands me into one of the two seats. Leaning over me, he presses a button that activates the seat belts. They crisscross my body. He selects a small marble from several on the console and hands it to me. “Put this in your ear,” he advises. He takes the seat next to mine.

“Will it eat my brain?” I ask.

He looks confused. “No.”

“Mind control?” I ask.

“I wish.”

I place the marble in

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