Cytonic (Skyward #3)(37)

“Huh,” I said. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Stay calm,” I said. “Be so understanding.”

“Command training.”

“Bull,” I said. “I know your secret, Jorgen Weight. You’re a good person.”

“That’s…a secret?”

“Hush,” I said. “I have to say things like that or I’ll look like an idiot for taking so long to figure it out. It would help me out a ton if you’d at least pretend to be an actual jerkface now and then.”

“I’ll work on that,” he said, smiling.

I stepped forward, then edged around him so I could stand between him and the sink. He could only see me in the reflection, so if I stood there—facing the mirror—our height difference meant we could look each other in the eyes. He stepped back to give me room. Saints, that smile was adorable with half his face shaved. Even the tiny scabs from his healing cuts were adorable, in a grizzled warrior kind of way.

I, however, was anything but adorable. I’d never been one to fret over my appearance—even when I tried during my school days, kids used to joke that I looked like a rodent. They felt so brilliant realizing that the rat girl was a bit mousy.

That said, scud. “I need to find a hairbrush, don’t I?” I said. “And a shower. Or seven.”

“You look just fine.”

“Ah, ‘just fine.’ Exactly what a woman loves to hear.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I meant to say that you look like a barbarian who just finished killing her seventeenth rabid tiger to make a necklace out of their incisors.”

“Really?” I said, tearing up. I mean, it was silly but…you know, he was trying.



“It’s like you came strolling directly out of a barbarian story,” he said. “Except for the jumpsuit.”

“I can fix that,” I said, reaching for the zipper.

The way his eyes bulged was totally worth it. But he looked so uncomfortable that I spun around to face him, raising my hands. “Joking! I’m joking, Jorgen. Don’t faint or anything!”

He shook his head, reaching for a washcloth to wipe the suds from his face. That left his face half-covered with black stubble, which would have been sexy, except…you know, the fact that it was only half the face. I turned back around toward the mirror.

“What happened to your face anyway?” I asked.

Jorgen grimaced. “I squeezed a slug. It didn’t appreciate it and let me know.”

I wanted more details, but I knew our time was short so I didn’t press him.

“I lied earlier, Spensa,” he said. “Command training did not prepare me for you. Nothing could have done that. Anyway, I suppose I should ask for a report.”

“Days passed?” I asked him.

“Since our last visit? Five.”

Yeah, time was odd in the nowhere. I thought it had only been three for me, but I couldn’t tell for certain. “I’ve made progress on my quest,” I explained. “I’ll tell you about that in a minute, but first I have more important intel. Jorgen…I think the Superiority leaders are trying to make a deal with the delvers. An alliance.”

He blinked, then took a deep breath. “That’s unfortunate.”

“That’s all you can say?”

“I was taught not to curse in front of a lady.”

“Good thing there are none of those here, eh?”

He smiled. “You say you think they’ll make a deal. They haven’t yet?”

“Not that I know,” I said. “But the delvers were intrigued by what Winzik said. And judging by what I’ve felt from them…I think it will happen. Unless we find a way to stop it.”



“I’ll report this to Cobb and the command staff,” he said. “It confirms our worst fears, that the delver summoning wasn’t an anomaly—but an appetizer. Anything else?”

“I found a kind of heritage site,” I said. “It’s hard to explain, but I saw some of the history of cytonics, and was taught a little how to better use my abilities. Jorgen, I’m pretty sure we were made when the nowhere leaked into our reality and changed people living nearby.”

“Changed?”

“Think of it like a mutation,” I said. “Caused by specialized radiation seeping through weak spots between dimensions. It means we’re not freaks. We’re mutations.”

“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Though I don’t like the word ‘freak,’ many would call a mutation exactly the sort of thing that makes you one. Certainly, a ‘defect’ could be caused by a mutation. So I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that we’re not some kind of sleeper agent for the delvers,” I said. “We predate them, in fact. What’s happened is that cytonics have blended with the nowhere—giving us access to it, letting us bend our reality to work the way it does.”

He nodded slowly. “If what you say is true, then we could potentially make more cytonic people.”

“There’s a portal,” I said, “on Detritus, in the tunnels near Igneous. Search northeast of the cavern, near some old pipes in a place with some strange patterns carved in the stone. You might want to study it.”