“I think you should call it a ‘phantom orb,’” I mutter, trying to change the subject. “Can you make me one?”
“No.” He scowls, turning and leaving.
I follow him.
Reykin switches on the lights with a holographic board in the hall. In the drawing room, the iridescent glow of a whisper orb draws my attention the moment I cross the threshold. The orb sits silently on the low table, its bubble spanning the entire apartment. Reykin set up a perimeter to hide me in.
“Why won’t you give me a phantom orb?” I ask as I catch up to him in the foyer.
“Because you’ll use it. You’re supposed to be Grisholm’s mentor. You’re not to go snooping around the Halo Palace. You’re not to do anything out of the norm. End of story.” He finds Phoenix inside the niche in the foyer wall, connected to a recharge station. He squats down and disengages the unit.
I talk to his back. “Maybe I don’t want it for here. Maybe I can use it to go back to Swords . . . see if I can get a secret meeting with my brother.”
Reykin lifts the heavy mechadome. Turning, he brushes past me. “Your brother will kill you. Didn’t you learn that last night? Or even last week? You’re not leaving Virtues. That’s final.”
“You don’t know that Gabriel had anything to do with what happened last night.”
“Don’t lie to yourself.”
“If he did, it’s because he’s afraid of—”
“Gabriel should be afraid. I’ll kill him if he comes near you again.” He sets the fat bot on the table in the formal dining area.
“My brother—”
“Doesn’t love you. He wants you dead.” He lifts a silver case from a chair and places it on the table next to Phoenix.
“You don’t understand!”
Reykin rounds on me, his expression furious. “What am I missing?” he demands.
I place my hand over my heart and whisper past the aching lump in my throat. “I told you before. I love him. I feel for my brother what you felt for your little brother before they killed him. Gabriel didn’t take Radix’s life. He didn’t do that to you. Census did that. The Fates Republic did that. You’re condemning Gabriel for wanting to live—the same as I want to live.”
Reykin’s hand closes around the nape of my neck, gathering me to him. My cheek rests against his chest, and I stare at his bicep where it strains against his sleeve. I choke back tears, refusing to cry in front of him ever again. I’m surprised by his embrace, but at the same time I’m not. Because we’ve saved each other’s lives in the most harrowing of situations, I have a very visceral connection to him. A trust beyond what’s rational. “That’s not why I want Gabriel dead,” Reykin says softly. “I want him dead, Roselle, because he’d rather kill you to save himself and his dying way of life than change and grow stronger to protect you. We’re never going to see eye to eye on this.”
I pull away from him. “No, we won’t.”
Reykin sighs. “Do you want to help me make some upgrades to Phoenix?”
“Aren’t you afraid Grisholm will wonder where you are?”
“I left word for the Firstborn Commander that I was going into the city to visit some establishments and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.” He faces the table and removes fasteners from Phoenix’s hull.
“What kind of establishments keep you out all night?” I murmur, mostly to myself. I pick up a tool and ease a fastener from Phoenix’s side.
“For a soldier, you’re very na?ve,” he replies, but there’s a look of relief on his face.
“I’m not na?ve,” I reply with a sniff. “I work with arms dealers and the underbelly of Swords society. Are you talking about some kind of betting establishment?”
“No,” he replies. “I’m talking about a pleasure house.”
“Oh.” My spine straightens. “Do you visit them often?” I want to bash him over the head with the fastener extractor in my hand.
“No, it’s just a cover.” I don’t know whether I believe him. My frown says as much. He becomes angry again. “Those places offer the rape of secondborns who have no choice. If you know anything about me, know that! What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Okay. I’m sorry,” I reply. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to change the world.” He’s as intense as Dune. I could drown in the depths of his eyes.
“Is that all?” I ask with a small conciliatory smile. “I thought you were here to make sure I do everything you tell me to do.” I’m overwhelmed by the firstborn Star and his plan of the future. I even find it mildly amusing because it’s so insane. His ambitions are in direct opposition to how I was raised—where conformity to the rules of the Fates Republic is paramount. He expects me to just switch my thinking and my loyalties to fit into whatever vision he sees this rebellion taking.
“Making sure you do everything I tell you to do is just a bonus,” he replies. He’s not joking. He’s enjoying the power he has over me. One whisper from him in the right person’s ear, and I’m dead. He could turn me in anonymously to be executed for treason.
A rusted bolt slips from my fingers and clatters on the table. I reach for it, my fingers shaky. “What would you do . . . if I stopped helping you? Would you turn me in?”
He picks up the bolt, circling it between his fingers. “I would never turn you in, Roselle.” He gazes into my eyes. “You know too much. I’d kill you myself. You’re too big a liability for me to leave your death in the hands of the Fates Republic.”
“I’m hard to kill.”
“Then I hope it never comes to that.”
He hands me the bolt. “Do you want to learn how to install weaponry in a Class 5Z Mechanized Sanitation Unit?” He holds up some parts from a disassembled hydrogen cannon.
“Yeah.”
We spend the next few hours upgrading Grisholm’s prank mechadome with several degrees of firepower. Midway through the upgrades, I order us some coffee from the automated food and beverage dispensary unit located on the wall in my kitchen. At the formal dining table turned workshop, we stand over Phee, sipping the steaming brew after Reykin uses Phoenix’s programs to test it for poison. The firstborn Star explains that he installed technology in my mechadome that will allow him to see through Phoenix’s eyes like real cameras and receive a regular video feed instead of just infrared images.
I frown. “I’m not so sure I completely love that upgrade,” I mutter, leaning my hip against the table edge.
“Why?” Reykin truly looks puzzled.
“Umm . . . I’ll have no privacy. You’ll see everything.”
He shakes his head. “Would you rather be dissected on your sofa?” His eyes are blue smoldering flames. “I thought they were going to slit your throat last night. I didn’t know if Phoenix had the arsenal to stop them.” He points to the balcony. “If you hadn’t woken up . . .” I stop listening, his voice just a noise. My throat tightens with the horrifying memory of fingernails dragging against my scalp. Panic seizes me with cold claws. My heart contracts painfully and then rages in accelerated flares. My skin instantly becomes clammy—I’m dizzy . . .
“Are you okay?” Reykin scowls and reaches out to touch my elbow. I yank it from him and back up a step, bumping into a chair and knocking over my coffee. It spills onto the floor. I hurry to the stairs, climbing them with my arm on the wall for support. In my bedroom, I retreat to the bathroom and close the door.
“Shower,” I croak. The water in the glass enclosure turns on, but I don’t get in. I want the sound to cover the panting that leaves me feeling as if I might pass out. At the sink, I whisper, “Cold water,” and splash some on my face. My vision blurs. I clutch the enameled edge of the sink, lowering myself to the floor. Steam fills the room.
Reykin taps on the door. “Roselle?” His voice is low. I can’t catch my breath enough to tell him to go away. The door opens. I start to rise, but my world tilts, and I slide back down the wall. My hands go to my forehead. I’m trembling. Am I dying?
Reykin kneels in front of me. “I’m sorry I said that.” His voice is soft and low. He strokes my hair. “You’re okay. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again. I promise.”