Interlude II

Inside the locker room — laid out with showers, benches, and sonic cleaners — Sharis slumped at the end of one bench. She crumpled a letter in one fist; its thick paper provided enough resistance to frustrate without allowing an outlet. Her still-damp hair curled around her shoulders and down her back, leaving darker marks on her black uniform top. Narrowed green eyes retraced the words that were still plain on the abused paper. The humid air crackled with tension when a silver figure popped through the door flap.

A sunny smile dissipated the heavy atmosphere, and Kit searched the room before approaching the redhead.

"Katchin, here you are!" Kit's eyes fell on the envelope that lay beside Sharris. "Your father sent a message?"

"Yes." Sharris waved the paper. "My oldest brother is… less well than usual, and Father commands I return." A scowl distorted her features.

"That's not the Guild's watermark." Kit pointed to the delicate tracery on the envelope, then to the matching shadows on the paper, distorted but visible. "Aren't the fees for a physical message exorbitant?"

"Well, one Butterfly can carry hundreds of messages for transcriptions in a crystal or one or two letters." Sharris shrugged and smashed the envelope into the letter, crushing them both into a wadded ball. "But 'privacy is priceless' — so says Lord Sharris." Her mocking tone shifted to anger. "It's so stupid! He won't see me and hasn't sent one message since I left the academy. He refused to acknowledge I got married two years ago for fuck's sake! And now I'm supposed to run home because he snapped his fingers?"

A lick of flame traced the ends of Sharris's hair, dancing up the tresses. She swatted it with an irritated snarl and it went out. Then she froze and turned to the grinning Kit.

"Who's the empath here, you or me?"

"Apologies, Katchin." Kit stepped back, and a polite, blank mask fell over her.

"It's fine — it's not like I can sense what you're feeling, anyway."

"Apolo—"

"Dammit, that's not what I meant!" Throwing the balled paper across the room, Sharris sighed and scrubbed her face. Where her fingers touched, white makeup rubbed away to reveal tattooed flames in a thousand shades of red. "I'm sorry, Kit. I'm not angry at you." She searched Kit's face through laced fingers. "And you're usually not so jumpy anymore. What's wrong?"

Kit's breath escaped from pursed lips, and she sank onto the bench beside Sharris. She studied her trembling fingers, and Sharris let the silence rest, broken only by the ventilation fans.

"Jack's not back." Kit's whisper was barely loud enough to be heard.

When she didn't continue, Sharris knelt so she could meet Kit's down-turned eyes.

"I thought your connections here were strong enough now that you'd be comfortable if he left for a day or two. He wanders — you know that."

Kit stared past Sharris, unseeing.

"Little one?" Sharris pressed.

"Someone's trying to contact him."

Sharris blinked and turned away, then leaned forward and grabbed Kit's hands. Kit jumped, nearly startling from the bench, but collected herself enough to sit shaking and meet Sharris's gaze.

"I thought we shut those connections down." Sharris picked her words with care. "'You didn't want him to have access to any of those message routines."

"Well, they're sort of shut down." Kit squirmed. "None of the messages can reach him, and he can't send any. But there's only four of us here — for of so many!" She leapt to her feet, forcing Sharris to release her. "What if their owners reach out?"

Kit fell silent, her cheeks pale and drawn tight.

"Kitten." Sharris stopped, then tried again. "He burned bridges. He promised things — evil things — then didn't deliver, or delivered late, or…" She gritted her teeth. "How many times did he ship a dead body instead of 'live product'?"

Kit opened her mouth, but Sharris cut her off.

"No, I don't want the actual number. I don't want you to remember that! That's not your sin to carry!" Sharris shoved to her feet and paced. Flames spread over her body, eating away at the makeup to reveal tattoo after tattoo. "If we find others, of course, we'll help them. But any messages sent to him can only be a trap — someone who got ripped off trying to get back at him."

"Okay." Kit bent to dust her clothes. She straightened with a smile, any hint of upset wiped as smooth as her clothes. "Your makeup's ruined, and you're on duty in half an hour."

Sharris frowned at the flames, and they winked out. Her uniform and flesh were untouched, but the fire had revealed an intricate mosaic of interwoven flames tattooed on every inch of visible skin.

"You're right." Sharris spared a glance at the forgotten letter and it burst into flames, burning to ashes in a few heartbeats. "No help for it. I'll have to get Falcon to help me reapply." A wide grin split Sharris's face.

"I'll let the Captain know you'll be late." Kit hurried from the room, chased by Sharris's laughter.