Page 48 of By the Orchid and the Owl
I’m not surprised. My breakup with Kimber last dry season got pretty ugly and sort of… put us both on their radar. It probably has nothing to do with the pills and everything to do with the fact that Dyonisia Reeve likes to spy on anyone who demonstrates a tad too much power—even lawful power.
What…I tried not to let my own shock ripple through my mind.What was so ugly about your breakup that it caught the entire Good Council’s attention?
Another time, maybe. I don’t want to think about it right now.
As if we hadn’t just had a private conversation, Coen flicked a thumb at his narrow-faced friend. “This is Garvis, a Mind Manipulator like me.”
Okay, then. Another time was fine by me, and it was really none of my business anyway. Still, though, I felt a little queasy at the thought that social drama could trigger Dyonisia’s attention.
Coen nodded at the two identical women behind him, who had high-angled cheekbones and skin darker than Lander’s. “These are Sasha and Sylvie, both Object Summoners. Twins, of course. And this is Terrin, my favorite Element Wielding maniac.” He gestured at a man with a ruddy beard, grizzled hair past his shoulders, and an overall unkempt look, who grinned at us and rubbed his hands together.
I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, surprised that they weren’t all in the same sector. Were these the other nameless pirate children who’d grown up with him?
You’re a little too astute for your own good, Coen scolded me in my head.
Ignoring that, I pointed at each of my own friends.
“This is Melle, Lander, Gileon, and… Rodhi?” I turned. Rodhi had taken a few steps toward the twins and was now… circling them.
“Which one of you did I make out with under the stadiums that first night? I didn’t know there were two of you!”
Sylvie—no, Coen had said that one was Sasha—raised a finger. “That was me.”
Rodhi’s face slackened with incredulousness.
“But you told me you were a third-year Mind Manipulator! I thought that’s the only reason our sector was invited to all the Mind Manipulator parties, because you’re part of the house!”
Sasha shrugged. “I lied.”
Coen cut off Rodhi’s next inhale, rushing through his next words. “Everyone knows how to play pentaball, I’m assuming?” He nodded at Terrin, who unslung a mesh bag from his shoulder and dumped twelve items on the grass: ten balls—each ranging from smooth-surfaced and pale yellow to bumpy and bright turquoise—and two half-moon discs on metal plates.
Emelle had told me back at the house that she’d never played before, but it was Gileon who said, in his slow, low-pitched voice, “Four balls for each team, right?”
“Five,” Coen corrected without blinking, although Garvis furrowed his brows at the obvious misstep in simple addition. “Each team gets one disc and five balls. Every ball has to make it through the disc on your opponents’ side of the field.”
“Whichever team gets all five balls in their opponents’ disc first,” Terrin said with a savage grin, “wins.”
Emelle scratched at her arm nervously. “Does it matter how we get it in? Kicking or throwing?”
Lander spoke up before the others could, turning toward her. “There are no rules in that regard, but…” He angled closer to her, lowering his voice, “most people choose to fling it in underhand. More accuracy that way.”
She nodded, just as Coen said, “The only true rule is you can’t use magic on the ball. It has to go through the disc by means of your actual hand or foot… or whatever body part you want to use.” At this, Coen’s smirk actually seemed to brush up and down my body, as if reminding me of the various body parts I could use in other ways. I stuck out my tongue, and he continued with a smile nipping at his mouth, “So Sasha and Sylvie can’t guide a ball through with their invisible Summoning hands, and Terrin can’t send it in on a gust of wind.”
Rodhi finally tugged his awe-struck gaze from the twins.
“I think we should add a new rule just for this particular match.” He leveled a stare at Coen—a significant feat considering that Coen was two heads taller and packed with three times more muscle. “Everyone is only allowed to use first-year magic.”
“Deal,” Coen said immediately, to my surprise.
And to the others’ surprise as well, apparently, because Terrin cursed as he stomped off to go set up the discs, the twins traded grimaces, and Garvis stopped stroking his mustache.
Rodhi, Lander, and Emelle, however, looked significantly more cheered as they each picked up a ball. I grabbed an orange, dully spiked one and handed the last one—warty and toad green—to Gileon, who was scratching at a spot on his head as if still dissecting the rules.
Coen’s team grabbed their own balls and lined up to face us.
I glanced to the sidelines, where Wren gave us all a mocking thumbs-up. I could tell from her twisted expression that she thought us all the vilest of creatures for wanting to play with balls in a muddy field.
Perhaps we were.
