Spinning Starlight (18 page)

“Like I don’t know that? But you think I’m such a child that I can’t handle one laser-addled jock. That I can’t handle
anything
.”

Emil nudged her arm. “We don’t think that. You know we don’t. We just know that you have to handle more than the rest of us combined. So when we can handle something for
you, we do.”

She pushed him away and stomped upstairs. They handled the things they could, leaving her only the things she had to handle on her own…but couldn’t. And that was the
problem.

“ARE YOU OKAY, LIDDI?”
Tiav asks the next morning after breakfast. “You look tired.”

I am. Every attempt to sleep after seeing the triplets was met with nightmares about my brothers dying and my rescue attempts doing nothing but getting in the way. Hardly restful.

“Let’s not bother with the Nyum today, then. We can stay here.”

I can’t help noticing Tiav’s anger has cooled, so at least that’s an improvement. He leads me to one of the book-filled rooms—there are a few—and I sit on a couch.
It’s definitely more comfortable than the office. Then he sets his com-tablet on a low table in front of me, complete with a holo-projected keypad hovering in midair.

I have nothing to ask, nothing to say. My brothers don’t want my help, even if I had any to offer.

Tiav, as usual, does the talking. “I went to a Khua early this morning and asked about what you said. How they’re still in the Lost Points, but different. If I understand correctly,
what you have is a sort of ‘ echo’ or tail end of the Khua, but I couldn’t make sense of why they were there. Still, they seemed to be saying they’d been left alone for ages
until you came along. Does that sound right? You were the first to travel through them in a long time?”

As far as I know. That probably explains the improved mood, knowing the precious Khua have been left untouched in the “Lost” Points.

Since I have nothing better to do, I halfheartedly indulge my curiosity.
“Tock koo-ah how?”

“I’m not sure ‘ talk’ is the right word for it. The Agnac and Izim call what we Aelo do ‘ communing’ with the Khua, but that never felt right to me,
either—too rooted in the worshiping they do. It’s watching and listening to everything inside, keeping your mind quiet and focused on what you want to know, then trying to make sense of
it. It’s still confusing—lately more than ever, like nothing even the oldest Aelo can remember. But we’re chosen because we have a knack for it.”

The Aelo definitely have some special skills if they can make sense of the migraine-inducing mess I’ve been privy to twice. Or maybe they’re deluding themselves, convinced
information comes from the Khua when it’s really their own subconscious.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Why should I care what the Ferinnes believe?

Tiav studies me while I try to avoid looking at him. “Something’s wrong. Are you homesick?”

Among other things. I shrug.

He deactivates the com-tablet and tucks it into his pocket. “We keep telling you to be patient, but then we push you to work all day. A break might help loosen our brain cells a little.
There’s a regular game of
gedek
over at the athletic park, should be starting soon. If we go, you won’t try to run off to a Khua, will you?”

I shake my head. An empty space in my chest echoes my brothers’ words from last night. There’s no reason to go to the Khua.

“Okay, then let’s get going.”

The park is far enough to take a streamer—definitely not something I’m in the mood for, but a short enough ride to tolerate. Once there, I’m glad to have Tiav guiding me
through. I’d get lost for sure. Several fields cover the space, each with different markings, some with equipment. A blend of mesh fences and energy fields keep the areas separate. A ball the
size of my head crashes into one of the fences and bounces back, so it doesn’t interfere with the neighboring games.

Vic would love this place. He’d want to try each game in turn. The empty space inside me manages to both grow and shrink at the same time.

Tiav leads us to what I assume is a
gedek
field. A few Ferinnes and several Agnac are playing around and warming up, and watching them gives me some idea of the particulars. The field
is arranged in a triangle, complete with painted lines, and a strange bit of framework draws my attention to one corner. Its base rests well behind the triangle, its body rising up and over, with a
horizontal bar hanging above that corner.

A Ferinne girl stands in the middle of the triangle with an eight-inch ball. She lobs it toward the main point, where an Agnac boy grabs the horizontal bar, swings with those ridiculously long
arms, and kicks the ball to the outer edge of the field.

“What do you think?” Tiav says. “Do you want to watch or play?”

It’s a low-tech game and looks a
lot
like stickball, other than the number of corners and using feet in place of the stick. Probably an Agnacki game, judging by that swinging
apparatus, but nothing I can’t manage, and I could use the distraction of something physical. Beating up the walls of my room last night wasn’t enough. I point to the field.

Tiav smiles. More like the way he smiled before I ran off to the Khua two days ago. I think he’s forgiven me, at least mostly.

The others spot him and stop what they’re doing to come over. They’re all around our age, but in two seconds, I can see the respect they have for Tiav. Kind of like how people look
at me in clubs, emphasizing my separateness, but also kind of not. No one here wants to use Tiav to advance themselves, to take advantage. A twist of something almost like jealousy pinches me.

“Everyone, this is Liddi,” he says. “She’s visiting from Sedro, so it’s her first time playing. Oh, and bizarre accident, long story, but she can’t talk. No
big deal, right?”

He carries off the lies more smoothly than I expected, but then I remember what he said about lying to almost everyone he knows since I arrived. The others nod or grunt their agreement that my
muteness is immaterial. Except one person. I didn’t see Kalkig before, but here he is, glaring at me as usual. Tiav doesn’t seem to notice until we split into teams and his friend
chooses the group opposite us. Then he looks both hurt and annoyed at the same time.

While everyone gets situated, Tiav quickly tells me the essentials of scoring and penalties. Definitely enough like stickball for me to follow. I nod my understanding, but he lowers his voice
for one more thing.

“Kal plays rough,” he says. “So do all the Agnac, and so do we, but Kal especially. And you know he doesn’t like you, so watch out for him, okay?”

His eyes say he’s worried about me. So does his hand on my arm, which is still as distracting as it was the day I came through the portal, but not the same way. It’s not the touch of
a stranger anymore. Doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t need to worry. I’m not a delicate flower that can’t take a few bruises.

Our team starts in the field while Kalkig’s is up to swing. I do all right, fielding the ball when it comes my way and throwing it back in to the corners. One of the Agnac girls on our
team says, “Good arm.” Given the efficiency and power of her own arms, I’m pretty sure that’s a high compliment among her people.

It feels nice to do something right.

The opposing team scores a couple of points before we give them enough penalties to switch sides and it’s our turn to swing. During the first round, I noted a difference between the
Ferinnes’ and Agnac’s techniques. While the long-armed aliens just reached up to the bar and swung themselves, the Ferinnes stood on a rung above the base and jumped forward to grab the
bar. My team insists I take a couple of practice swings, which I do without any trouble.

The first few players on our team get good kicks, including Tiav, and then it’s my turn. Before I can get to my place on the framework, Tiav touches my shoulder, startling me.

“Don’t think too much,” he says. “Just follow your instincts.”

Good advice, since overthinking has never done me much good.

Then the other team changes up positions so Kalkig is lobbing. Great.

Liddi Jantzen was knocked unconscious by a deliberately misthrown
gedek
ball, much to the amusement of the alien who hates her guts. One can only hope the head trauma knocked some
of her neurons back into place.

I’m definitely not letting that happen, with or without neuron-knocking.

Kalkig’s first lob is high. Not enough to hit my head, but the ball slams at high speed into my chest, knocking the air out of me. I barely keep from making a sound.

“Come on, Kal,” Tiav yells. “Since when do you lob like a yearling?”

The Agnac grunts and glares as I drop down and take my position on the rung again. This time the ball comes straight to where I need it, and my timing is perfect as my feet make solid contact. I
don’t wait to see where the ball goes. I hit the ground and run for the first corner. Judging by the cheers from my team, it’s a good kick, and I get to the corner safely.

This feeling…it’s familiar, but old. Camaraderie with people who offer it without even knowing me. Like playing games with other kids when I was little enough that none of them knew or
cared about the Jantzen family. When things were simple and obvious. A bright energy charges through me. I wonder how long it’ll last.

Our next player kicks well, too, getting me to the second corner. If I get back to the start, I’ll score a point for our team. Next up is a Ferinne boy, and his kick is only okay.
I’m already running, but Kalkig fields the ball quickly. He runs toward the same corner to go for the penalty.

Tiav told me the rules. If Kalkig can’t stop me, I get the point. I see his confidence, and why not? He’s definitely bigger and undoubtedly stronger than I am. Faster, too.
He’ll beat me to the corner, so my only chance is to knock him down.

I know something he doesn’t. I’ve been knocking down my bigger, stronger brothers for years. They taught me how.

Don’t break stride. Stay low. The arm holding the ball means he leans to the other side slightly—exploit the weak point in balance.

Most important, what Vic always told me, again and again. Don’t be afraid of the hit.

And in this case,
do not
make a sound.

The impact jars from my shoulder to my toes, but it doesn’t stop me. I push through, using my legs to shove Kalkig up and back. A noise I have to assume shows surprise escapes from him as
we both tumble down.

Then it’s drowned out by cheers and laughter from my team.

I reached the corner. I got the point.

Some are asking if I’m okay. I untangle myself and get to my feet, but when my teammates try to pull me away and congratulate me, I shrug them off. Instead, I offer my hand to Kalkig, with
no idea whether he’ll accept it or not.

His eyes lock with mine for a long heartbeat, like he’s not sure whether to take it either. In the end, he does, his rough hand gripping mine to pull himself up. He also lets go as quickly
as possible. One grunt, and he heads back to his position.

The rest of my team pat my back and shoulder, telling me what a great hit it was. It takes a minute for things to settle down so the game can continue. When it does, Tiav pulls me aside.

“You’re okay, right? I know for a fact how hard-boned Kal is.”

I’m fine. Might have a few bruises, but nothing major.

Tiav smiles. “Looks like you didn’t need that warning after all. And now Kalkig knows something. You may be a ‘ Pointed heathen,’ but you’re also tough as any
Agnac.”

If I am, it’s because my brothers taught me to be. Always the youngest and the smallest, but I had eight people telling me not to let that stop me.

Something clicks in my mind like I can feel my own synapses firing. It didn’t take a blow to the head to knock some neurons into place after all. Just a blow to every other part of my
body. My brothers told me to leave things to them and stay out of it because they’re scared for me. They’ve never in my life told me I couldn’t do something because they thought I
was incapable.

They’re the ones always telling me I
am
capable.