Chapter Six
“Aelyx isn’t answering.”
Cara stuffed her com-sphere beneath pillow number nine and resisted the urge to jut out her bottom lip. She always called Aelyx before he went to bed—it was the only time they were both awake and she had a minute to spare. By the time she finished all her classes, extra duties, and barf-inducing exercises, she’d fall into a coma until morning. Now she understood why the L’eihr crime rate was so low. Everyone was too exhausted for shenanigans.
The top bunk shifted above Cara’s head, and Elle’s dainty four-toed feet dangled into view. After a long yawn, she said, “Perhaps his sphere is malfunctioning. It happens sometimes. I’ve had mine refurbished twice.”
“I could try reaching him on Syrine’s sphere, but she’d probably chuck it out the window before taking a call from me.” Cara caught herself rubbing her cheek, where Syrine had once slapped her.
“I’m no help to you there.” Elle hopped to the floor and joined Cara on the bottom bunk, where she sat cross-legged, her loose hair spilling over both shoulders. She looked so human first thing in the morning. “She hasn’t spoken to me since Eron asked me to be his l’ihan.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Cara had forgotten the two were once besties. “You loved the same boy.” Few friendships could withstand the dreaded BFF love triangle. Cara knew firsthand. “My best friend started dating my ex as soon as we broke up. They snuck around behind my back for weeks and made me feel like an idiot. We’re speaking again, but it’s not the same.”
“Friendships evolve,” Elle said clinically. “And often fade. It’s the natural order of things.” And just like that, their girl-talk ended. “Let’s get to work. We don’t have long.”
Cara groaned. She didn’t want to practice Silent Speech anymore. What was the point? Her mind was physiologically different from the L’eihrs, so she’d probably never master the art.
“Are you getting headaches again?” Elle asked.
“No, but between this and my classes, I go to bed each night feeling like I’ve given birth from my brain.”
“Think of your mind as a muscle,” Elle lectured. “It will—”
“Grow stronger with use,” Cara parroted. Since resistance was futile, she might as well cooperate. “Okay. Same drill as before?”
“No. Let’s try something new.” Elle shook back her hair and leaned forward to meet Cara’s gaze. “Show me how you feel, then use your words to tell me what we’re having for breakfast.”
Cara completed her first task in less than a minute. She noticed it didn’t take as long as it had last week to channel her frustration into Elle’s mind. In that respect, she’d improved. But when she tried to say t’ahinni, Elle heard nothing.
“Don’t be discouraged,” Elle said. “You’re making progress. I understand your emotions more clearly than before. You feel defeated, but also curious.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “And you’re suspicious, but I don’t know why or of whom.”
Cara lowered her voice to a whisper. “Something’s been bugging me. You know that meteorite everyone’s been talking about—the one that crashed my Sh’ovah?”
“What of it?”
“It wasn’t a rock. I’m pretty sure it was man-made.” Aside from Cara, no one had caught a glimpse of the object. “I saw metal and lights, then Jaxen covered it with his cloak.”
Elle considered for a moment. “I’ve observed reflective matter in space debris, some of it metallic. Could that explain what you saw—sunlight glinting off the mineral deposits?”
“I don’t think so.” But Cara couldn’t be certain, and that’s what drove her crazy. “Why would Jaxen bother to hide a worthless chunk of rock?”
Elle’s troubled expression showed she agreed, though she didn’t say so. “Can you summon the image and share it with me?”
In theory, that was a great idea. In practice, however…“I’ve never tried that.”
“The process is similar to sharing emotions. Close your eyes and form a picture in your mind. Wait until it’s clear before you connect with me.”
Cara did exactly as her roommate instructed, but it didn’t work. No surprise there. If she wanted answers, it seemed she’d have to find them herself. No surprise there, either.