CHAPTER 3
The week passes, full of sex—I only have to pop back to Phantom’s for one accidental slime cum incident—and snuggling interrupted by random broadcast shows, food deliveries, and language lessons that I am definitely not getting better at.
“That’s not quite right,” Ferrok says, trying to be kind in the lesson.
“Your pronunciation sucks,” Mooralan calls from the kitchen, heating up leftovers.
“I know that, thank you.” I would throw a pillow at him, but I don’t want to wind up with blosha stew on my couch if it comes back at me. “I can hear it and recognize it, but making my mouth make those shapes is the problem.”
“You need to use your tongue to sharpen the sound.”
“She uses her tongue perfectly.” Mooralan tips my head up with fingers on my chin and brushes my lips. “Do you think he needs proof again?”
“I’m always happy to display my talents.” I stick my tongue out at him.
He laughs and pulls me into his lap instead of taking me up on my offer. “Breaks are good,” he says. “Without them you’ll get bored of us… or I might wind up missing bone density at my next scan.”
“His body will divert minerals from his bones and tissue from his muscles to replace his… clitball.” Mooralan still has a hard time saying the word, and none of us can figure out why, but I don’t mention his pronunciation.
And I think he knows it.
“Message,” he says quickly, and I look up at the blinking light on one side of the wall screen.
When I open the inbox, it’s a text notification from Phantom.
Two lines.
Get dressed.
Come see me.
“We all knew the summons was coming,” Ferrok says. “But I wouldn’t have minded being locked up with you for a few more weeks.”
“You would have gotten annoyed with me after a while,” I assure him.
“Maybe.” He picks me up and takes me to the bedroom. “But I think I would like being annoyed by you.”
“It’s nice to have the choice,” Mooralan adds as he follows us.
It takes a little longer than it needs to, but we do, eventually, manage to follow Phantom’s first directive.
The portal is still in place, so maybe we aren’t safe yet.
But I won’t complain about a one-step commute to their office.
“Someone’s come looking for you,” they say as soon as the portal closes.
I can’t stop myself before, “Well, that sucks,” slips from my mouth.
“Another assassin?” Mooralan asks.
“Worse.” They say, and a screen flickers on, showing a Sovian arguing with the station administrator.
Cursing, Ferrok tips his head back. “It’s my mother.”
The quiet laugh that leaves Mooralan’s lips is too painful to be a chuckle.
“What’s going on?”
But either Phantom doesn’t hear my question, or they ignore it.
“The good news is that the Sovian government has recognized the debt. You are free to move about the station as you please, but you can be sure that they will be watching the account, just in case.”
That doesn’t explain what has them all upset.
“So why do these two look like you’ve just announced impending dental appointments?” I ask.
“Because of the bad news,” they say.
“Which is?”
They look at Ferrok. “That’s how your mother found out about this.”
Ferrok curses and Mooralan does too.
“What?” I ask, wanting to shake them. “What’s going on?”
“She didn’t know where I live because she would have come to visit too often.” Ferrok snaps his beak in frustration.
Phantom tells him, “She’s already scheduled visits to three vacant apartments for viewing.”
“Of course she has.” Ferrok exhales, long and frustrated.
“Do you not like her?” I ask.
“Oh, I love her. But she…” he curses again. “She is very old-fashioned, traditional Sovian and that is going to make this a problem.”
“Am I going to have to fight her to the death or something?” I laugh, even though it’s not funny.
“I believe a better way to put it would have been ‘this will be a headache,’ not a problem.” Phantom waits for Ferrok to nod before he says, “No physical altercation should be necessary.”
“She’s going to have questions. And you don’t know Sovian well enough to answer them.”
I don’t know why that would be a problem. “You can translate, though.”
“I can’t.”
“But I can,” Mooralan says.
I want to ask why, but I don’t. “And that’s a problem because?”
“She hates me.” Mooralan rubs the back of his neck. “If she knows you like me…”
“I had wanted to introduce you to her before she found out about this. Money is somewhat of a taboo subject.”
“Is she going to hate me too?” I look between them, and Mooralan shrugs.
Ferrok says, “I hope not.”
“Well, however she feels about you,” Phantom says, “the three of you need to get going… or else Sirin might find a way to punish all of you for the inconvenience.”
He looks calm on the screen, but he does not look like he’s having fun.
“I will go save him. The two of you can stay here, or somewhere else safe.”
“No. Unless you tell me you really don’t want me to meet her, this is one of those things I think we need to face together. I mean, she’s not going to shoot me, right?”
“No, she won’t.” He doesn’t look happy, but he nods, takes my hand, squeezing it, and looks up at Mooralan. “Try not to break every social rule in the book.”
Mooralan scrunches up his face in what could be taken as an unspoken apology. “No promises.”
They leave before me, and Phantom says my name softly before I can follow.
“Yeah?” I look back at them.
“You should know that your sister has negotiated an advance on her future work here.”
Even though I know they wouldn’t take advantage of her, my stomach sinks. “What kind of advance?”
“I purchased your mother’s mortgage.”
I sigh and stop myself from immediately offering to buy it from him. “She’s never going to learn if we keep saving her.”
“I know. Anne knows. We’ll work things out when they need to be worked out.”
I nod. “Please keep me in the loop.”
“Of course.”