Page 95 of Under Restless Skies

The brief kiss he gave me comes to mind, and then I recall that he stepped between me and Auranius. We traveled to the Kingdom of the Riders and risked our lives together, then spent a night in a cave, his body keeping me warm.

And yet I don’t know if he’ll ignore me. I stare at my cup, wishing I could drink something just to keep my hands busy, or maybe to calm down the jitters coming to me.

Celine and Nelly return and we find a log to sit on, far from Alayel. He still hasn’t acknowledged me, but he might not have seen me. Perhaps I should get up and greet him, but I’m not sure how he’ll react.

A girl sits beside Celine, her hair cropped short, her expression serious other than a subtle smile on her face.

“Cynthia didn’t fly,” she says. “She’s alive.”

Cynthia. Our other roommate. I barely know her, and still, my chest feels lighter. Beside me, Celine’s body seems to unwind and relax all at once.

“Thank you,” she says.

The girl pats Celine’s arm, then nods to us, a warm smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Sheila.”

Nelly and I greet her, then she leaves us to join a group of people standing.

Soon after, two second-year male recruits join our log. One, a blond with an overeager smile, tries to chat with me over Celine’s shoulder, but quickly gives up and leaves. The other is immediately captivated by Nelly. After a few minutes of low, intense conversation, she gives us a quick glance and they get up, disappearing from the firelight toward some darker place on the beach.

It strikes me that while the men were focused on me and Nelly, no one even glanced at Celine. She’s pretty, but perhaps too shy, and unnoticed by the other recruits, male or female.

“Who invited you?” I ask, as I assume someone here must know her.

“Cynthia.”

I nod, wondering if we’re in a party where we shouldn’t be, and then I’m thinking why Alayel didn’t invite me.

Maybe what I need to do is stop stressing out. I raise my empty cup. “Shall we get some?”

“Changed your mind?”

“Yes. I mean, everyone’s acting normal. I fear you might have oversold the effects of this nectar.”

She smiles. “I didn’t. It makes you feel good. Now, it’s not going to make you do anything you don’t want.”

We get up, fill our cups, then sit again, and I take a sip. The taste is slightly bitter, but subtle, like an extremely diluted juice, maybe a little rotten, but not enough to taste disgusting.

“It’s… refreshing,” I say.

“Told you.” She shrugs.

I sip my cup slowly, and, so far, I don’t feel anything odd or strange or good or even relaxing.

Perhaps it’s just water with some drops of bitter juice and they scam people by giving it a fancy name, but I don’t want to say that to Celine, since she seems to like it so much.

I take another long sip of the star nectar, getting used to the odd taste—and smell, even if it’s subtle. My nose is awakening, as I can recognize different odors; the ocean, the algae, the sand, the vegetation, the fire, and even people. Celine has a particular scent I never noticed before. Alayel is too far for me to catch his, and then there’s all the smoke. Still, I feel like myself again.

Maybe I needed the fresh evening air to decongest my nose, to clear my mind. It’s when a person’s familiar smell hits me, a smell I should have forgotten.

Marcus approaches the circle. Instead of ignoring me, or maybe nodding as a way of greeting, he glares. Again. As if I had done something wrong. Doesn’t the location bring him some good memories? Or did he decide our moments on this beach were terrible after all? I can still remember his body over mine, the way he kissed me, the sweet words he told me. And now he’s glaring at me.

“What?” Celine asks.

I don’t want to tell her everything, especially if Marcus is now involved with the princess, but I give her some of the truth. “I knew him. Marcus. He used to deliver to our restaurant. And now he’s… It’s like he’s angry or something, and I don’t understand why.”

She glances at him. “People are odd sometimes. Maybe he thinks he’s too good to be your friend, now that he’s close to the princess.”

“He wasn’t like that, though.” The Marcus I knew was kind and thoughtful.