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In another life, perhaps Ella and I would have been good friends. She was probably a little older than me, but she seemed like the honest sort—a little gossipy, but who wasn’t? I could imagine us having sleepovers and chatting through the night, sipping on chilled wine and having sweet tarts.
My mind was somewhere else—back home, perhaps, seeing myself in the safe cocoon of my childhood bedroom, the setting of many memorable sleepovers with my school friends. Without much thought, I reached into the oven for the pie. It was golden, dome-shaped and utterly beautiful. My mouth watered just looking at it.
It took a few seconds for my brain to process the searing pain of the hot tin on my bare fingers. I couldn’t help the sharp yelp that escaped me and the pie tin clattered on the floor with a loud thud. Ella woke sharply, her eyes unfocused.
I stared at my fingers, watching as the skin started turning dark pink.
“What hap—” Ella’s sleepy voice was cut off by the sound of thunder right outside the kitchen’s back door.
I don’t think I’d ever heard the sound of a horse running before (or do they call it galloping?) but the sound was truly deafening. Cedra burst through the door, her blond braid wild from the quick ride from the field to the house.
She strode forward, passing Ella, who was struggling to get out of the chair, and grasped my hand.
Cedra was breathing hard.
“What happened? I felt...”
Her eyes roved over the spreading pink burn, and without pause, she brought it to her lips. Her tongue, cool and flat, laved the wound, and I gasped. The burning sensation was replaced by a rippling effect, calming the swelling on my fingers immediately.
Looking back, I’m not sure when it happened. When the healing process changed into something more. Maybe it was because she was sucking my fingers so sweetly, a gesture so sexual that I couldn’t control the shiver that racked me. I could imagine us being elsewhere, in the same position with less clothes, my fingers in her mouth, slicking it with her essence so I could explore elsewhere...
Someone cleared their throat and Cedra dropped my hand with a start. Perhaps I hadn’t been the only one caught up in a fantasy.
“Ella,” she said, stepping back slightly. “I didn’t see you there.”
Ella’s hands were anchored to her hips. “Clearly.”
I looked between Cedra and Ella, then down at my fingers again.
“Hey—it’s healed,” I blurted. The skin didn’t even hold a hint of pink and it was even...soft? It felt like I’d slathered some good-grade moisturizer on it. I held it up against the light. “How’d you do that so quickly?”
But it was Ella who piled on the questions. “Yes, Cee, how did you heal it? How did you even know she got burned? You must have been in the field at this time of day.”
Neither of us made a sound, so with a sigh, Ella knelt and picked the pie tin off the floor gingerly. I assumed it was slightly cooler now. The top crust was cracked in several places but the filling hadn’t escaped—small blessings, I guess?
“Ella, look, it’s a long story...” Cedra began but Ella was already shaking her head.
“I’ve got nothin’ but time.” She looked at me pointedly. “So I’m assuming you’re not really bot?”
I looked to Cedra and she nodded slightly, as though to say there was no use in continuing the pretense now. She stuffed her hands deep into her trouser pockets and squared her shoulders, visibly bracing to do something unpleasant.
“No, Ella, I’m not. I didn’t want to lie to you, I hope you understand. But I—I’m in a difficult situation and Cedra is helping me.”
“So, what’s your real name?” she asked as she leaned over to set the pie on the wide windowsill to cool. The breeze sent a hint of cinnamon my way.
“It’s Twyla.”
“How did you get onto our Star? We don’t allow tourists or visitors.”
Cedra and I shared a glance again. “Well, that’s a long story. Maybe you should sit down.”
With a misgiving frown, she plopped down onto the chair again, her eyes moving between us with renewed interest. She listened raptly as I told her everything—about Tion, about the engagement, about hiding away in a bot box. And how Cedra had grudgingly offered to let me stay. All through it, Cedra leaned against the counter, hands now crossed over her chest, eyes imperceptible.
“But they could still come here to look for me. It won’t be long before they realize one of the bot boxes was heavier than the others—they’re all weighed prior to delivery so they can estimate the delivery cost. I’m sure my parents would have hired a professional tracker to find me. So I have to hide and you can’t tell anyone I’m here.”
“Not even Frowh.” It was Cedra who added this.
“Lie to my husband?” Ella frowned. “Well, that’s a new one.”
