Page 85 of The Space Between Stars

When Fankalo flipped him a crude gesture, Mitek strode past the window, through the cafe’s paned door, and plopped onto the adjacent pouf. He slammed a dirty hand on the table, rattling her teacup. “When you’re done unlocking conspiracies, there’s a halloucha stand with our name on it. I heard that in Chira’na, they make ‘em bigger!”

Count on Mitek to waste his enthusiasm. Every fated city in Nelfindar claimed to make them bigger.

“Not hungry.”

“You’ve been indoors all week.”

“Yep.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You’re on a cycle.” Where she’d lacked heat before, it now flooded her with interest. “Knew it. Your tits are coming in.”

“I hate you.” She directed her attention back to Methu’su’s journal to keep herself from cleaving Mitek’s face in two. Had she been the only person in all the world who hadn’t known this would happen to her? She’d thought she was dying. Poisoned or cancerous or Preservation knew what else. The crew’s physicker had thought she was pulling a fast one on him, not knowing. It was the first time in her living memory she hadn’t been.

When she could no longer bear the gleeful glimmer in Mitek’s eyes, she muttered over the pages, “How in bloody Chaos did you know about birthing cycles when I didn’t?”

A dark smile crossed his face. “You know how I know.”

She gagged. “Oh, Fates. Why did I ask?” His fox-like cackle was maddening. “Can’t you find anything better to do with your money? Go away, you debaucher. I’ve research to do.”

His expression soured. She’d taught Mitek to read years ago—and anyone on the Rogue’s Rapture who had any interest. With most of Nelfindar being illiterate, it strengthened the crew. But while Mitek found value in deciphering notes and street signs, he remained allergic to literature.

He nodded to the journal. “Is this it then? Answers on the Kaidechi scourge?”

Despite the still-present desire to hold Mitek underwater, the corners of her mouth rose. “Yes. And more.”

“More? Like, treasure more?”

She shook her head. “This journal holds Nelfindar’s deepest secrets about Seraphindo’s line.”

“Ahhh. Ummm… the Ruxians?”

Fankalo closed the journal and planted her palms on the table. Her heartbeat spiked. “I have to tell you about this. The Ruxian gene—it was recessive. Short of becoming extinct, eah? Seraphindo’s line washed out in the Nelfinden gene pool. Especially after the Tera’thians established a task force to hunt them. It took very specific combinations of Ruxian classes to produce another Ruxian with the ability to manifest distortion. And, apparently, there’s this weird thing about Ruxians: they can’t distort unless they link up with other Ruxians—something to do with hormones in the pineal gland.”

Mitek’s eyes darted to the window. Too specific and too rambling at the same time. She would need to dumb this down for him.

“So, on account of that, Ruxians with the power to distort nearly died out. And the Nelfinden government started its own…” How to describe it? “Breeding program to correct the problem.”

Mitek shifted in a way that indicated he would rather she ran down the street with him in the direction of fried dough.

“They set up arranged marriages to try to propagate the bloodline.”

“Sounds gross.”

“That’s because it is gross. Can you imagine being an all-powerful being, but having to be bred like an animal?”

Mitek’s face scrunched. “Right. Ahm. What do you mean, classes?”

“There were four—one aligned with each of the Fates—that determined how their powers would manifest. But there were so few Ruxians that the program began recruiting half-breeds—‘conduits’.”

“I mean, ‘conduit’ does have a better ring to it than ‘half-breed’.”

“And it played matchmaker between complementary classes, trying to produce full-blooded Ruxians from conduit pairs. Then, half a century ago, a member of the breeding program’s board betrayed them. Gave a list of names to the Tera’thians. A quiet culling began.”

Mitek let out a low whistle. “That’s quite a thing to keep a lid over.”

She gave her eyebrows a conspiratorial lift. “According to Methu’su, the oligarchy orchestrated it.”

“Why? I thought the oligarchy has been waiting for the Seraphindos to take the throne back?”