“Well, I’m sure he didn’t want to kiss a dirty spot,” she said, her lips tighter than I’d ever seen. “I have to warn yo—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t start. Gavriel walked in on us macking, and already ripped Mikhail a new one.”
Sunny let out a horrified, choking sound. “Don’t… Don’t ever say that again.” She made another noise.
“Which part? The part about Gavriel ripping us a new one? Or macking on Growly? Because he can do this thing with just his lips that made both of my ovaries have their own mini-org—” She slapped her hand over my mouth before I could finish.
“Change now. Dinnertime. No more talking about”—she shuddered—“High Angeli in that way.”
I changed into my favorite t-shirt and a toga skirt I’d fashioned with green sequins, Sunny changed into another blindingly white toga, and then we set off to the Dining Hall. “It’s nice not to be on house arrest,” I said, waving to some flying Protectors. “Especially now that Righteous isn’t leading the Hate Feather Train.”
“What happened, Feather?” She pulled me closer to whisper in my ear. “What happened with Righteous?”
“Swear it to secrecy?” I asked, checking to make sure no one could hear. She nodded, and we linked pinkies. “He used the knife to cut off some of that smut he had, but cut too deep. I warned him, but you know how some guys think they’re tougher than us gals? Anyway, he was dying, bleeding out on the floor, and the evil had found its way inside his veins—or at least that’s what it looked like. Gavriel ran off for help, and Mikhail was nowhere to be found. So, I had to make a choice. Let him die, or take the smut onto myself.” I shrugged, trying not to remember exactly how painful that had been.
Sunny walked slower, chewing at the tip of one finger as she thought. “Okay, I’m not surprised that you did that, even though I’ve never heard of such a thing before you got here. You told me about taking that little girl’s smut. And it’s the sort of thing you’d do, even for a douche like Righteous. But it had to suck.”
I nodded vigorously. “So much suckage.”
“But how do you know how to do it?” she asked as we turned the corner to the Dining Hall. A huge group of Protectors were hanging around the doorway, waiting for something.
For me, as it turned out. Once one of them saw me, they all started whispering, and smiling. “What do they want?” I muttered.
“To meet the Novice who saved the life of the senior Protector,” she replied through gritted teeth. Her nervous smile was borderline feral.
“Did Righteous tell them I saved him?”
“No. It was Gavriel,” she whispered, shocking me to my core. “He made a formal announcement in Assembly.”
I straightened my t-shirt, making sure the whole sentence—If Glitter Is A Crime, I’ll Do The Time—was easily readable, and barreled through the crowd, returning greetings from strangers and dragging Sunny along behind me.
Our circle of cushions was crowded for the first time ever, and sitting there was one of the more surreal experiences I’d ever had. On Earth, I’d never lived a life of privilege, and my tendency to say exactly what I thought the instant I thought it hadn’t endeared me to many groups of other people.
Especially not beautiful, well-spoken, shiny, happy ones like these. Before long, I was exhausted from pretending to know what the others were talking about. I did manage to learn that The Merge was hosting another masquerade night soon, and I’d been invited to attend. I’d even had more than one Protector offer to help me with my purification sessions, and from Sunny’s googly eyes, I had a feeling they meant something a little less innocent than a normal bath time.
Back in my room, I asked, “Did some of those Protectors hit on me?” Sunny nodded. “Do they not… care about the smut on me? Like, the smell?”
She lay on the far side of the enormous bed, her head propped up on one elbow. “Feather, that’s the thing. You don’t smell. You look—well, not terrible, but not great. But you don’t smell at all anymore. Like, you know how Gavriel and Mikhail have that scent?”
“Like the world’s priciest body spray?” I closed my eyes, thinking of Gavriel’s spicy musk, and Mikhail’s deep, richly masculine whiskey and smoke scent. “Are you saying I smell like that?”
She wobbled one hand back and forth. “More like roses. And with that bright silver hair? Feather, you’re going to be stunning. Everyone sees it. You’ll have a lot of friends soon.”
I scooted over on the bed, taking her hands in mine. “But you liked me when I smelled like a sewer, and looked like I’d been dragged out of one, Sunny. Ride or die birches are for eternity.” Her trembling smile was all I needed to go in for the hug. When I pulled back, I changed the subject. “Now, can we finally talk about merging?” I winked. “I saw those three chicks rubbing the edges of your wings when they thought no one else was looking. You’ve been merging, haven’t you?”
“Oh, girl, yes.” She grinned evilly. “I’ve got a lot to teach you now.”
* * *
Sunny taught me all about merging. So much that I couldn’t make eye contact with any other Protector on my way to the Maker Hall for my morning of knife play. When I got to the Hall, though, I knocked and knocked at the main door, but Mikhail didn’t answer. Was he sleeping? Avoiding me?
“Good thing I’m sneaky,” I whispered, walking around to the side of the Hall. I’d seen Mikhail vanishing behind a screen in his workshop more than once while I was recovering, and I figured he had a network of secret passageways. I was correct. I entered an empty Assembly Hall, and felt around on the walls, eventually finding a panel that was almost completely invisible. I slipped into the tunnel behind it, using my keen sense of direction to get lost three times—opening doors into the Dining Hall, a full Assembly Hall, and a bedroom where four Protectors were merging so heavily they didn’t even notice me there—before I finally opened a door that led into the workshop.
It was empty, the fire out and the lights off, though the small globes of material Mikhail was using to make the four new Novices pulsed gently on one table, and their glow made it possible for me to start the fire. I needed the warmth; it was legitimately cold in the Hall today. I shivered, piling wood up and using the fancy long matches Mikhail had conjured up from somewhere to light the pile.
The firelight flared up, and I warmed my hands, gazing around the room. It was strangely messy, which wasn’t like Mikhail. He was very particular about keeping this space clean, even if it was crowded with tables and tools. But today, things were knocked over, like he’d left in a hurry. Maybe he’d been late to a Guide meeting, or whatever he did on the rare occasions he left the Maker Hall.
I was picking up some fallen chips of marble when something caught my eye. A few flecks of glitter had somehow gotten stuck to the sides of the new Novice spheres.
