I jump a bit and gasp. “Oh, Cissy. I didn’t see you there.”
“Didn’t you hear me calling you on the way over?”
I run my finger along a dusty desktop. “I guess I was a little distracted.” I peep at the empty space behind her. “Where’s Zeke?”
Cissy shrugs. “I told him I’d meet up with him later.” She eyes my fighting suit. “Another Arena match today?”
“Of sorts.”
“You’re going once or twice a month now.” She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m worried about you.”
I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything, then close it just as quickly. “I’m fine, Cissy.”
“You’re always saying that lately.” She steps around the dim space. “What are you doing in here? This is nasty old office space they used before the war. It’s been boarded up for ages.”
“Mom was a Senator in the old Republic. Her team worked in this office.”
Cissy’s tawny eyes open wide. “Wow.” She sets her hand on her rib cage. “How long have you known that?”
“Since I first visited the library. I found a book about it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. It’s private stuff.” Guilt worms its way around my belly. Am I so proud that I can’t tell my best friend I’m part-ghoul?
“You never used to feel that way.” She steps to my side and gently sets her hand on my shoulder. “We’ve gabbed about your Mom’s pre-war ‘mystery history’ since we were kids. Remember that time we made sand castles at Canus Beach? You pretended your Mom fought demons in a tall tower. I said your father was the dragon King.”
My voice cracks when I speak. “Yeah, I remember.” I slowly lower myself into a rickety office chair, setting off a poof of cobwebs and dust. I cover my face with my hands.
Cissy kneels beside me. “Come on, Myla. There’s something bothering you and it’s more than your Mom being a Senator. You can tell me.”
I hug my elbows. “Here’s the thing. The Lewises used to be a huge family. Everyone was murdered in Armageddon’s War because Mom was a Senator. That’s why she’s so overprotective of me. She lost everyone she loved.” I stare at the floor. “I never even got to meet them.”
Cissy pats my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“For so long I wanted to know the truth. Now I want to forget everything I’ve learned.” A warm tear rolls down the bridge of my nose.
“I understand, sweetie.”
I slump into the old office chair and watch dust motes float through the beam of light from the opened door. Somewhere an old-fashioned clock ticks away. I stare into the shadows, imagining ghostly Lewis eyes peeping at me in fear. My skin puckers into gooseflesh. Cissy gently rests her hand on my arm.
“Hey, I might have something to cheer you up.” She slides an envelope out of her pocket. “I totally shouldn’t do this.”
I look at her out of my right eye. “Do what?”
“Everyone’s freaking out in the East Wing. The thrax reserved the mansion for some event to celebrate autumn, but the ghoul minister’s kicking them out. No one wants to tell a bunch of demon fighters that they can’t use the house.” She taps the sealed envelope against her palm and looks at me expectantly. “I’m supposed to give this to one of the other Furor fighters to deliver.”
Thrax? Message? I smell payback.
I shoot Cissy my most innocent grin. “You’re right. It would totally cheer me up to go on a little errand.”
“That’s my Myla.” Cissy starts to hand me the letter, and then she pulls it back. “Don’t be surprised if they’re a little cranky about the change.”
“Oh, I can handle it.” I scoop the envelope from her hands. Zipping down my fighting suit, I set the letter against my collarbone, then zip it up again. “I’m on it.”
“One more thing. The thrax are really into their traditions. To get into their compound, you have to wear a dress and ride a horse.” Her face lands somewhere between a wince and a smile. “This could be a nice change of pace for you. Getting dressed up and all.”
I open my mouth to spill the truth: I’m not dress-girl or horse-lady. Sure, I love sneaking into the Ryder stables to kill Doxy demons, but I have no idea how to touch a horse, let alone ride it. But then I shut my yap. Screw it. I’d say just about anything for this payback fiesta. “That sounds like such a nice idea, Cissy.”
“And won’t tell anyone I let you do this, okay?”
“Never.”
“Good.” She rocks back on her heels, setting her golden ringlets swinging. “There are some thrax horses in the Ryder stables. I guess they’re enchanted or something. I hear they basically ride themselves, if you know what I mean.”