Kyon shoots me a besotted look that makes me believe he’s a much better actor than I gave him credit for. “I’ll have one made for you right away as soon as you explain to me what that is.”
“It’s a mirrored sphere that one hangs from one’s ceiling. It reflects light and makes everything shiny!” I flash my most elegant jazz hands.
Ainsley looks from Kyon to me, and then back again.
“Will it sparkle like your eyes?” he asks. I almost laugh, but I keep it in.
“Oh! That’s such a good idea! Can you make it lavender, to match my eyes?” I plead like a spoiled child.
“Your eyes are more violet than lavender, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Kyon replies.
“I’d like Phlix to stay here too—to help me. She can teach me how to be a proper priestess. I need a mentor, like Fulton.”
“You don’t need her, Kricket,” Kyon says as he takes my hand and puts it to his lips. “You have me.”
I stick out my bottom lip. “I want a friend.”
Our exchange is bothering Ainsley. He interrupts with a prissy huff, scolding me, “You cannot have Phlix. She’s to be Pike’s newest in a matter of a few rotations.”
Turning on him as if he’s gravely insulted me, I growl, “But I want her! Spike can have her in a few rotations. What would it hurt to let me have her for such a short time?”
My assertiveness is not something that Ainsley is accustomed to or something he’s ready to tolerate. “His name is Pike!”
“Spike, Pike,” I shrug. “He can have her after I’m finished with her.”
Ainsley’s mouth opens and closes several times, like a fish’s. “You were not sent for, Kricket,” he scowls dismissively. “Your master and I are convening on a very important issue—”
I put my index finger to his mouth, cutting him off. “One moment, Ainsley. He’s not my master. He’s—” Hearing feminine laughter, I look toward the game table across the room and witness a turquoise winged-horse figurine fling off the game board and strike Phlix in the back of her head. Distracted, I murmur, “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Ainsley’s face turns red and he blusters behind me, but I ignore him.
I cross the room to the game table. Brighton, Ryker, and Ashland have their shoulders hunched as their heads lean together in some misery conspiracy. Placing my hands on the cool, marble game board, I give them each a sinister smile. The black butterfly lace of Brighton’s facial adornment rises as her eyebrows do.
“Hi, I’m Kricket. We haven’t formally met yet, but I’ve noticed that you like games.”
Sitting back in her chair, Brighton gives me a smug look and says, “I’m enjoying the game I’ve been playing.”
“I’ve been watching your game. It isn’t funny. I think you should apologize to Phlix.”
Her blue eyes shine with condescension, “I never apologize,” she replies. Ryker and Ashland both giggle, enjoying their friend’s disdain.
“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? It would be a shame if you couldn’t walk outta here.”
Her lacey eyebrows rise together. “Are you threatening me?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod.
Brighton’s eyes narrow as she says, “You’re in no position to threaten me.” She flicks her hair back over her shoulder, looks at her friends, and smiles. “You won’t be here long. They’re taking you back to Freming House. You won’t last the rotation.”
“That’s an interesting thing to say, since you’re not clairvoyant. If you were, you might be a little bit nicer.”
“I don’t have to have the gift of seeing the future, because I already know yours.”
“Enlighten me.”
“It’s only a matter of time before the Brothers kill you.”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Brighton.” I lean near her ear and whisper, “They’ve already tried.” Then I straighten and add, “So I’ll give you one more chance to apologize to Phlix for being such a knob knocker.”
They look at each other like I said something ludicrous. Brighton’s eyes leave Ryker and Ashland’s astounded faces. She concentrates on an aquamarine griffin on the game board. The feet of the iconic beast tremble and tap against the smooth surface. It lifts off the game board, heading straight for my forehead. I duck. The griffin sails over me. It strikes the large male behind me in the temple. Standing, the bearded blond Brother clutches his hand to his face as he roars in anger.
“Many pardons, Adondon,” Brighton says in mortification as she holds up