Tally wins the passenger seat, and I’m glad to have her aboard, though neither of us is eager to be involved in another experiment. Seems we’re both capable of learning from hard lessons.

Next to arrive is Tayte, followed by two women who look as nervous as I feel. Chemical fire. That’s new. The first is average height with short blonde hair. Silver highlights. The second is petite with short brown hair. No highlights. She has the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. The first, not so much on the smiling.

“Gundy, Brenda, meet Tally and Sheyla. Sheyla, if you could sit in this chair.” Tayte points to the one by the desk. “Gundy, I’d like you to sit right here.” He motions to the chair facing it. “Tally and Brenda, you can sit on the couch there.” More pointing. Champ traffic director, this guy. He wants his dolls all positioned the way he imagined. Hmm. What would he do if I turned the chair sideways? I might not be able to fry him, but I can annoy him in other ways.

Gundy sits in the chair opposite mine, a bundle of nerves. What does she have to be scared of? Is she scared of me? What have the sisters told her? She snorts when I blow out an upward breath, forcing a curl up and away from my face. Interesting. The normalcy of the movement distracted her from her fear. Now she has tons to say. Somewhere in the middle of her explanation, my fire fuel valve opens—Tayte playing puppeteer—and the energy skulks through the containment grates.

For a split second, I consider using the opportunity to sever the tie binding Tayte’s power over me. He gives me that disconcerting smile full of teeth. Of course he does. He has no fear, confident of what will happen the instant I snip the connection. It’ll all come flooding back. More than I can control. I shift the chair just a smidge to the right, and he visibly flinches. Am I fighting dirty? Heck yes, I am. Petty still counts. Point to me.

“You’re fine with this change?” I reiterate. “You’re not being made to do this?”

“I need to know she’s happy,” Gundy states earnestly, her hands telling their own story. Declan does that. He pulls musical notes from the air to write songs. “Her face says she is, but I’ve come to find smiles are often deceiving when it comes to me.”

“How so?” Her answer is immediate. A swell of warmth washes through me, a chemical-induced euphoria similar to the drugs Ryan pumped into me to delay my ignition. I’m simultaneously dizzy, lightheaded, drowsy, and somewhat sick to my stomach.

“Oh.” I rub circles on my temples. “Can you stop, please? Can you control it?”

The feeling abates.

“Sometimes,” Gundy hedges. “I can’t always.”

Turns out, Gundy has a unique Air Sumair talent, the ability to manipulate blood oxygen, producing an inebriating effect.

“Air Drunk is what I call it. Hypoxemia when I’m sad. Toxicity when I’m happy. Middle ground is the only time I can control it.”

I frown.

“One of these times, I’ll give her brain damage,” she whispers. Brenda places her hand on Gundy’s shoulder.

“They have an unsupported relationship,” Tayte notes. “We cannot condone their desires. That’s why Gundy has been approved for reversion.”

“You had the audacity to question my open mind?” I accuse. “It’s none of your business who she chooses as her life partner.”

“She’s a Sumair, but Brenda’s a human. They don’t belong together. They’re from two different worlds.”

I don’t agree. Derry and I were in the same predicament. My fire was apathetic to his humanity. To be fair, it doesn’t particularly have a preference who it consumes. Me? I support love, kindness, compassion, humor, and many more things that others use as a divisionary tactic. I don’t let my beliefs invoke judgment.

“You don’t get to choose for them, and in matters of the heart, you’re sorely lacking in understanding. Don’t you feel that? Can’t you feel what I feel?”

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His jaw ticks. “It’s illogical.”

“Love doesn’t act rationally, Tayte. Neutral people suffer in situations where contributions to the cause are necessary, regardless of how courteous the participators are. Maybe you should just sit over there and chat with your conscience. Discuss why this division came to be in the first place. Debate why there are Solathairs and why there are Sumairs. While you’re at it, converse about what it means to be human or what it means to love, generally. Love knows only the restrictions we place on it, and most times, our well-intentioned restrictions are simply tossed aside in the presence of love. Love accepts differences, thriving in the face of them.

“Because love is one of the biggest pieces of humanity. It helps us work toward being decent people who give more than take, care for others even when they claim they don’t, and exert more effort improving themselves than accommodating preconceived notions of how things should be. If you want to study something truly worth exploring, Tayte, you should study love. It’s the only weapon worth having.”

As Gundy smiles, I can see what she meant about losing control of her happiness. Everyone in the room is affected except Tally. She’s feeling left out.

“No dice?”

“No dice,” Tally confirms. “We don’t run on blood.”

I give my head a firm shake. “Right.”

Solathairs run on human essence, as available in their blood. The concept of that need still grosses me out, but I don’t have time to reflect on nutritional conflicts. I need to get Gundy on the wagon. With any luck, she’ll be enjoying sweet sobriety any minute now. Brenda looks on, irrational worries slipping through. Will she feel the same in moments of absolute clarity? Gundy has the same misgivings.

“You’re having doubts,” I tell them. “Both of you are.”

“What if things change?” Gundy asks quietly.

“They will. You’ll have to tackle real feelings and real connections. You’ll have good and bad days, but you’ll support each other on solid ground, and that’s all any of us can ask for.”

“I don’t just want this to protect Brenda,” she assures me.

I feel that, too.

“I want people to see me as more than a source of entertainment. I want to trust the relationships I develop. I want people to grow with me instead of using me as a source to hide from all the things they don’t want to see in themselves.”

“I want her to see herself the way I see her,” Brenda adds.

“I can’t help you like what you see in the mirror,” I admit, “but I can help you get a clearer picture of the person staring back at you. It’s up to you to do the rest.”

“That’ll do.” Gundy agrees, and they both grin.

“Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this!” she exclaims, and I’m pushed back in my chair as another round of her abilities warms my stomach. Definitely a double, that drink. “Sorry.”

I take her hands in mine, closing my eyes to sort through all the emotions. I see each strand illuminated by its own radiant shade, forming a braided rope. I find the dividing line separating her Sumair status from her humanity, where gray replaces the ambient hue hidden beneath her uncontrollable addiction.

“As you feel it, don’t just cut the cord,” Tayte encourages me. “Spool it toward you.”

I take hold of the string where the pieces connect, separating the two but not releasing the magical thread. I snip, pulling it toward me. As the strand grows, I imagine winding it up like a ball of yarn. Reaching the end of the strand, I tuck it inside. Now what? Concerns? I have loads. The biggest one is my fire won’t appreciate the company of this new and curious gift. Thinking fast, I chuck the spool in a separate hope chest for safekeeping. When I’m finished, Gundy has a blank stare on her face.

“Are you good?”

“I-I think so,” she stammers.

“How do you feel?”

“Lighter,” she insists. “I didn’t realize how heavy the weight was.”

“We don’t.” My chest tightens. “Not until it’s lifted.”

“Let’s see what you can do with it,” Tayte presses.

Gundy crinkles her nose. “Do with what?”

“Nothing you need to fret over.”

“Can you just give us a minute to get our bearings here?”

“We’re on a time crunch,” he persists.

I sigh.

“I’m so sorry.” Gundy gasps. “You had to take that in you?” Tears fill her eyes. “I swear, if I knew, I never would have...”

“It’s cool. Handling problems is my specialty.” Causing them counts, right? “You’re genuinely okay?”

“More than okay.”

I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, earning a disapproving scowl from Tally. “Seems we’re all done here.”

“I’ll see you escorted out,” Tayte offers.

I do a mental fist pump for this accomplishment. I managed to do something right. I’m a long way from accruing an ample supply of Karma coins. At least it’s a start to feeding that hungry machine.

Reversion. I like the sound of that. Point to Tayte. Maybe he isn’t the monster I assumed him to be. This ratification doesn’t feel cumbersome. It feels good. Good came from my actions. How can I not see the bright side in that? No doubt, the euphoria will be short-lived, and maybe it’s all coming from Gundy’s Sumair joy juice, but I’ll take the win. I need every ounce of happiness I can squeeze out of this situation.

After Gundy and Brenda are ushered out, I concede to Tayte’s wishes. The sooner I do, the sooner I can go back to my room and sleep away the rest of the day. Unlike the time I snipped Ryan and Mel, I feel tired. Actually, I’m more than tired. I’m completely drained. What’s up with that?