
The hour was early—damn early—but worth the effort to rise.
She called while Adam Pendergast lay in a deep sleep, waking him with a jolt. Dazed, he raised his COM band to his face and sparked at the source of the link. In glowing letters her name appeared. Talitha Morai.
Talitha.
He waited a pair of seconds before answering.
“Hey, Li.”
A sweet voice emanated from his device. “Hi, Adam.”
“What’s up?”
“Surprised you accepted my link.” Her laugh twinkled. “I rehearsed my message first. Something like, oh please, Pender, pay attention to me. I’ll die if you don’t look my way. How’s that?”
“Ha.” Adam cracked a smile. “Not bad.”
“Right. Hope that sounded desperate.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“Stellar.”
Adam yawned and rolled to his side, flicking back locks of pale hair from his eyes. He squinted at shapes suggesting furniture in his school quarter as he tapped on the tiny silver bud pierced into his tragus. Talitha’s cheerful voice bounced from the air to his ear, and he grumbled at her cheeriness. “You’re an ass for linking at this hour. I’ve got lots to do today. Last classes before Harvest, and that fundraiser later. This better be dire.”
“Sorry.” A hesitation followed. “Hate to bother you. It’s about the fundraiser, anyway. Who’s going and what-not.”
Terrible emotions spiked as Adam leaped to ideas that had lingered on his mind for the past three weeks. He was single and so was she, if her details hadn’t changed—though her call might mean nothing. That wasn’t a problem. Six, almost seven, years of pining sounded silly to admit. He swallowed a yawn, remaining nonchalant.
“What do you want to ask?”
She exhaled. “Let’s talk about this in person. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship. I’ll understand if you don’t see me that way.
“Sure.” Adam agreed fast. A pause followed, and Talitha’s link address blinked. He swung his legs off the bedside as the slow ticking of the holo-clock measured the silence. He cleared his throat, breaking the lapse. “You want to meet now?”
“Aye. Before school. It’ll give you time to think.”
“Fine.” He rotated his shoulders, nodding though they shared no visuals. “I can rest after the day’s done. I’m free ‘til Eve.”
“Eve?” Talitha’s voice perked. “Is there a party?”
“Party? No.” He chuckled. “Haven’t heard shit.”
“Weird. Last Harvest before graduation, last before the new millennium, and nothing.”
“We’re already boring and old.” Adam rose from his bed, activating the lights of his room. “Judge Khelot asked me to represent Pender-Pal to his donors. Of course I will.”
“Oh. Kala did mention her dad’s Concord event. Great he lets you work for him and earn credit.”
“Yeah. He’s granted me a huge head-start.” Adam flared with pride as he rubbed his jaw. “Agrees Pender-Pal helps unite the parties, and that change is possible.”
Talitha interjected. “If your event involves Pender-Pal, I’m happy to help—”
“I know you are. You’re the first to volunteer for anything related to the orphanage.” He smiled. “I’d tell you if it mattered.”
“Of course. The orphanage means everything to me.”
“We’re equally glad to have you, and you do so much for us in return.” Adam shrugged. “Ma loves you.”
“I love her, too. She’s another guardian to the wards, like High Priestess Kazrut and our house mothers. We feel welcomed in Altir.”
“That’s our goal, to give you a family—with us.” Adam shook off thoughts of Talitha and the Pender-Pal foundation. In so many ways she fit into his life in neat ways, like she always belonged. “So, you want to stop by my quarter? I can come by yours.”
“No. Let’s meet in the garden. It’s quiet on campus and the weather’s cooling. Those soot-lilies are changing hues for Harvest—green and blue and purple-black. So pretty.”
Adam nodded. “Of course. The flowers and all that.”
“When?”
He peered at the digits on his COM. 0341. Took ten minutes to reach the student lot by bike without the regular bustle of a full campus. He dismissed the display, glancing at the clothes in his closet. “Four-fifteen. Lot C.”
“Right. I’ll grab my bike.”
“Sure. And, Li—”
“Aye?”
“Glad you linked.” He slowed, thinking over his words. “You’re spending all your time at the temple, and I barely see you anymore on campus.”
“Right.” Talitha quieted. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. You’re processing things. Kalum must be cheering you up.”
“Aye.”
He broached the topic, getting to the point. “Breakups are tough. I’m making sure you’re good.”
Tightness strained Talitha’s voice. “I’m fine, Adam.”
“Yeah.” Adam returned to his regular nonchalance, stifling another yawn. “See you in the garden.”
At 0415, Adam arrived in Lot C and found Talitha waiting by her Kyanite, her long red-gold hair hanging loose and clashing with the rose tint of her vessel. He maneuvered his speeder, a cutting-edge Agatex in dark cobalt, into the spot beside hers.
“Someone else had the same idea as us. A pleasant too-early stroll.” She gestured at the sparse number of vessels in the lot. “Maybe we’ll run into them.”
Adam grunted. “Not in the mood for small talk.”
“I bet,” she snickered. “Won’t waste any more your time.”
He scanned the freckles dotting Talitha’s golden skin and stare. Full Vangrali, her blood made her glow as if the phosphorescent ether flowed under her skin—at least to Adam. She wore a pair of casual blue cutoffs and a T-shirt with an illustration of the sun. He found her cute—beautiful, even.
He hopped off his bike and the Agatex deactivated.
“Ah, well. Don’t mind small talk with you.”
Their walk started right, the atmosphere calm as a gentle breeze rustled the trees. They circled the paved paths, and an errant laugh escaped him or her as she reported she hadn’t studied for finals, and he wondered why a senator needed to learn trigonometric functions. The number of times he’d need to use that skill in the future—he judged the number to be zero.
Ice treats at Astro’s after school, Talitha suggested during a lull. Adam agreed, imagining them seated side by side in a booth. He’d tuck her hair behind her ear at a perfect moment as they retraced their long, comfortable friendship. If she didn’t turn away—
He nudged the fantasy aside. His best mates laughed at him in his mind.
Dumb fuck.
The reason for their meeting remained active in his thoughts as their pace slowed. Her glances lingered, and he straightened when she moved before him.
“All right,” she said. “You’re wondering why you’re here, since we can catch up at Astro's. I wanted to talk about the fundraiser.”
“Right.” Adam slipped his hands into his pockets. “We’re both going.”
“Yes.”
“What are you thinking?”
Talitha’s gaze broke away. “It’s about someone attending.”
“Well.” Adam reviewed the guest list, his face blanked of reaction. “There’s you, me, Ma’s supporters, and the wards. Media, of course.” He chuckled as he swatted away nerves. “Have someone specific in mind?”
She scratched her arm. “No good way to put this.”
“Say it straight. I’ll like you no matter what you say.” He offered her an encouraging smile, moving closer. Her speckled gaze swept over his, and each word seemed to echo between them. “I’ve also been wondering about someone who’s attending. We might be on the same path.”
“I know you are. So’s your mother. That’s what makes this difficult.”
Adam paused, his face wrinkling. He tried to parse what she’d said. She sounded as foreign as any wildspeak, and his mind ricocheted off possible translations.
“My mother?”
“You’re thinking about him. I doubt I’ll get another opportunity to speak to him. Ovadia would never agree.”
Adam’s confusion settled into clarity. She wasn’t thinking about him in the slightest. A scoff escaped as the warmth he’d felt dissipated.
“Are you serious?”
“He’s difficult to reach even for you, but he might attend tonight. It's an important anniversary. Fifteen years—a milestone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper when he turned away. “Oh, you hate me.”
Adam raised his chin. “Why do you need to talk to that dog’s-ass?”
“I want to be a hunter.”
He pattered a dry laugh. A hunter. Hilarious.
“So that’s what this was about. Stupid shit.”
“Please—”
“I’m a moron.”
He walked away.
Their silence lasted most of the school day, with Adam remaining indifferent to her COM messages. However, after her third breathless apology invoking their years of friendship wore him down, he muttered, fine. When they met, his mood hadn’t improved, but he didn’t hate her at all. In fact, the opposite.
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Cloverland’s school uniform assigned a different hue for each grade. Yellow, green, and blue were marked for the younger levels, while the eldest seniors wore red. Those colors crashed together as students swarmed the courtyard, bodies clashing into each other as they headed to their final classes.
The campus clock tower chimed a warning, reminding them that a long holiday break arrived in an hour and fifteen. Already running late, Talitha’s chatter as Adam walked made him lose further time. She’d pressed her crimson school jacket and skirt crisp, and tied her knee-socks with neat bows. None of the colors she wore matched with her bright red-gold hair. Every part of her clangored the senses. She distracted Adam outside of her current stream of persistent pleas.
“Listen, Pender—”
Pender—he liked when she called him that. Tender Pender, she’d joke, because he was nothing of the sort, except to a few. He forced himself to ignore her pleasant traits, squinting against the sunlight glinting off the tower’s golden spires.
“I listened to your points without interrupting, because I wanted to fully absorb your ridiculous idea. You did terrible.”
“My idea’s not ridiculous, Adam. Millions of hunters operate on Ipir.” Her cheeks flushed as she raised her volume. “It’s a proper job, and I can’t believe you of all people would say otherwise.”
“I know it’s a valid profession. That’s not what I meant. Look at what you are, truthfully—a schoolgirl in high society Altir. Insulting to ask for a tag.” Their stares locked, and Talitha’s force bored through Adam like a targeted missile. “You’d never get into an elite organization like Silatem without a connection and a miracle.”
“You’re right, mate. That’s why I’m asking for a connection. That would be a miracle itself. Demand rises every year while rabidity plagues both humans and natives. This planet needs people willing to study, control, sedate, and terminate—”
Adam cut Talitha off before she could finish, because he knew the words himself. “Enough. That’s from Silatem’s manifesto.”
“Yeah.” Talitha patted her chest. A grin peeked through her focus. “I studied.”
“So have I, and much longer than you. I have access to company internals on my dash.” Adam tapped the faceplate of his COM band. “Memorizing that won’t impress anyone that matters.”
“It’s a step. Shows I care.” She smoothed her hair as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “I came to you because you’re my friend, and you’re also part of Silatem, even as a Union resident. Your dad left you a permanent interest. What you think holds value.”
Adam nodded. “Yes. I’m important.”
“That’s why you’re my best chance of reaching Captain Pendergast.” Her fingers grazed his forearm as her features furrowed. “I know it’s rough between you two—”
“Ah. You do remember. Wondered if you did.” Adam shook her off. She naned the impossible problem herself, at least.
“I never forgot. It’s why I hesitated for so long. He was cruel and impatient when you were a child, forcing you to learn his ways. Left wounds. Asking you isn’t easy, so I’m glad we’re this close.”
Adam’s stared at the trees lining the campus. A cool note—that ether—whisked against his cheeks. “Funny you manifested the jewels to ask me.”
“I’d never ask you to rekindle. He’s your brother by blood, but a shadow every other way.”
Adam clenched his teeth. She had a way of saying things sometimes.
“Can’t stand the fucker.”
“An introduction. That’s all I need. Tell him who I am, and I’ll handle the rest.” Talitha glanced at the students staring at them and turned her back. “I’m okay with tough training. Blood. You kept practicing with him because you understood the value, even if he made you angry.”
The hour on the campus clock ticked along. Adam grimaced. “Ma can set you up at Pender-Pal. You’d continue the foundation’s work with great pay.”
“That won’t solve my problems, as I’d still be a resident.”
“So? You fought to get here for years. Your life’s improved. Now residency’s an issue.” Adam scoffed. “No one will lock you in a cell again.”
“I appreciate Altir, Adam, and I’m not insulting your family’s help, but there’s still trouble. Gracie Finnegan destroyed Kalum’s quarter a week ago for being part native. She also hates me, and I’m full-blooded.” Talitha’s face screwed further. “I’m next.”
Adam soured at the mention of their difficult classmate. Finnegan’s name always put him in a worse mood. “Dean Clott suspended her. Any more issues, and she won’t graduate. Her dad can’t clear her record forever. He’d risk his seat.”
“She’s one of many who hate us.”
“Some people say stupid shit—”
“Lots of people. Lots of stupid shit.”
“You know my goal. I’ll fix things. What’s the rush?” Adam braced against Talitha’s burrowing stare. “We’re in peace. The Time of Trouble happened more than a decade ago. You’re on me like there’s a war starting tomorrow.”
“It’s freedom I need, Adam. Silatem’s freedom.” She touched his arm again. “A chance to earn real money without my blood being a distraction, and handle what I need to handle. No more handouts or a stipends. I haven’t even paid off that Kyanite.”
Adam chuckled. Money. She needed money. He had plenty. Billions in family and company assets, with more than that in legacy value. Her Kyanite—he could buy her ten in each available shade, but that didn’t matter. She drifted a billion miles away in intention.
“Right,” he said.
“I know your brother won’t hire me on the spot, but I’ll tell him I’m grateful for your family’s work. If he’s not interested, I’ll accept that.”
“Won’t satisfy you.”
“It will. Please.” Her mouth ticked with in a faint smile. “I’m begging. One serious favor. I never ask for anything.”
“Haven’t talked to the bastard in ages. Think I can just link and go, ‘Oi big-brother, been six years. Barely know you, but hire my inexperienced teenage friend for no reason.” Adam scowled. “Write off what she destroys as a training expense. She’s worth it, I swear, with zero evidence.’"
“Ouch. Sounds awful like that.”
“Word it however you’d like. Won’t get better.”
“Fine. Point taken.” Talitha shrugged. “Thanks for listening. Ovadia’s a wonderful candidate. The fundraiser’s a formality.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Sorry. Don’t hold it against me. If I didn’t mention it, how would you know?”
Adam folded his arms. “He’s not coming. Ma invites him to something every year, and he never responds.”
“You might be right.”
“I am. Even if I wanted to help, he has to be present for a conversation.”
“Of course.”
“Moving on.” Adam’s stifled nerves reawakened as he returned to the original topic. “About the fundraiser.”
Talitha tilted her head. “What about it?”
“Bringing anyone?”
“You mean, a date?” She tapped her finger against her cheek. “No. Hadn’t crossed my mind.”
“I figured.” Adam scratched his neck. “Three weeks since you split with Spencer. Doesn’t mean you’re ready.”
“I’m taking it slow, or trying to.” Her hands fell to her sides. “Thought I had everything figured out until I didn’t.”
“The whole school thought you two were as good as married after graduation.”
“Ha.” She chuckled softly. “I did want that with him, a wedding and family plan. The thought made me happy.”
“Those dreams don’t have to disappear.” Adam summoned firmness. “Someone else might like you as much as him. Someone close.”
“Maybe.” She twisted a lock of her hair. “What about you? Have a date?”
“Me?” He pointed at himself. “No.”
“Weird.” Her humor flashed again. “Your issue’s usually, which date?”
“I’m also taking it slow.” Her gaze rolled aside at his response. Adam heard a derisive snort. He touched his chest. “I swear. Haven’t talked to a girl in ages.”
“Adam. You’ve got a different one every week.”
“That’s the past. I’m starting new. I’ll need a wife and kids once I’m Union General, so I want to build something permanent early.”
His comment landed the opposite of what he intended. Talitha laughed with raucous volume, the snickers pelting him like gunfire. “Wow! I’ve heard the latest line from the Concord Wolf—bad seed turned good.” She covered her mouth, bursting with mocking glee. “Now you’ll look for a flower after you burned the field to ashes.”
“Bad seed?” Adam’s face blanked. “Ashes?”
“Don’t be coy with your best wing-woman, mate.” Her rose-painted lips curled wider. “No female’s safe around you. Beware, ladies.”
Adam cooled at her humor. “Look here, Morai—I’m following the plan for politicians. Marry someone, shoot out some kids, advance the mission—I’ve said this I don’t know how many times—”
“Adam.” Talitha wiped a tear from her eye, still bubbling with laughter. “You sound annoyed. Yes, you nailed the system. How funny.”
“Yeah. Hysterical.”
“You’ll do fine, mate. You’ve got your pick. Throw a rose, she’s right there.”
“Maybe.”
Talitha stumbled when a figure knocked her aside. A sun-bronzed brunette wearing a red uniform tossed long ringlet curls, taking Talitha’s place in front of Adam.
“Fatima.” Talitha’s eyes widened as she recovered.
“Hi, you two. Lovely weather we’re having—for now.” Fatima smiled at Adam before glancing at Talitha, her friendliness dropping to a sneer. “Of course you’re with him, Morai, looking broke and needy as usual.”
“Chalmers” Adam identified the female too. “Fatima.”
Fatima’s brown gaze rolled back to assess him. “You look handsome, Pen.”
“What do you want?”
“Gracie sent me.”
Adam scoffed. “Grace?”
“Aye.”
“The bots will catch her if she’s on campus.”
“Hasn’t happened yet.” Fatima shrugged. “She’s got something to give you, but you’re already late.”
On cue, the campus clock chimed, signaling the start of the final class. Talitha tapped Adam’s arm. “I’ve got to go.”
Adam glanced at her, finding her breathless and flushed. “What now?”
“Nothing.” Her voice filtered through his COM bud. “Are we still on for Astro’s? You said yes before, but if you changed your mind—”
“It’s fine.”
“I invited Kala.”
“Of course you did.”
“Tell your mates.”
“Ah.” Adam waved off the suggestion. “Fuck them.”
“Ha. Later.”
She smiled and disconnected, her red mane swishing as she disappeared. Fatima’s low laugh redirected Adam’s focus.
“What’s going on?” He nudged his jaw at Fatima. “You’re both acting strange.”
Fatima shrugged, peering where Talitha had gone. “She’s weird.”
A beep alerted Adam a second time that he was tardy to a class with a professor who didn’t like his politics. “I’m leaving,” he said. “Tell Grace to get lost.”
Fatima replied with a sing-song melody. “Tell her yourself.”
Adam ignored Fatima’s goodbye and strode toward the main hall.
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