[b]Étoile![/b]

“Oh, you silly girl, come here.” Shakily, she guides you up onto the sheets. You’re not dressed for bed, but that doesn’t matter; she rests your head against her breastbone, which is feverishly warm, and lets the tension bleed out of her. She closes her eyes and rests her face against the top of your head and slings one leg possessively over you.

She’s out like a light before you can say a word more, and you can’t resist the music of Caphtor lulling you to sleep as hard as you try.

***

[b]Anathet![/b]

“Thank you,” Tia said at you. Her smile is so bright, and vulnerable, like a newborn deer. She closes her fingers around the sapphire, and then breathes out, relieved.

When she fades away, it is like unfocusing your eyes, or realizing that you’ve been seeing an optical illusion: that what looked like a face was just the way light shines between those bushes, that what was two legs tucked up underneath her is just grass. You feel a sense of aching relief, like finishing a workout, and then she is gone. And you are alone.

She didn’t even stay.

***

[b]Canada![/b]

You are asleep when a light, lilting laughter echoes through the fortress. You are sound asleep when a figure flits from mirror to mirror, dancing from one to the next. And you are down like a log when that figure, faceless and indistinct, takes a seat in the mirror opposite you.

“Oh, this should be fun,” they say, and now she has your face. Her eyes are an impossible orange-gold, and she watches you all night long, breathing in time with you.

She is gone when you open your eyes.