“Is there something I need to know?” Wrathin asked.
Kian held his hands out, sort of waving them. Energy slid along him like he’d been electrified.
His expression seemed confused like he didn’t know what was going on.
“Kian, what is this?” Freya asked as she took a few more steps closer to him.
He looked at his hands again. “I do not know. It has never happened before.”
“We should get you back to Sol-3. Let Tech look at you,” Wrathin said.
The glowing started to recede.
Just a bit.
“Yes, that would be smart.” Kian glanced at Freya, and while he smiled, she could tell he wasn’t as jovial as he pretended to be. “He’s always been jealous of my special gifts.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Come on. We need to get out of here. I need a bath.” She put her hand on his arm.
The electricity sparked but did not contact her. It was like it moved away from where she touched him. He pulled her into an embrace for a moment.
And whispered softly in her ear. “I am glad you are not harmed.”
“Only because of you,” she whispered back. “Thank you.”
“Anything you need,” he replied.
She pulled away but left a hand on his arm.
Veta and Wrathin stared at her.
“Really, all I need is a bath right now.”
He covered her hand with his. “I can assist with that,” Kian said, his eyebrows waggling.
Freya’s cheeks warmed. “You really are a scoundrel.”
He raised his hands. The remaining light energy sparked between his hands like spider webbing before dissipating. “I am a magic man.”
“A what?” Veta asked.
“What?” Wrathin said as they caught up with him.
Freya smiled.
Kian answered. “From old Terran literature. A musical poem.”
“A song?” Veta asked.
“Yes. A song. About a humanoid male with a magical touch that a female could not resist.”
“Did you download every Terran literature and art before we left?” Wrathin asked.
“Not everything,” Kian said. “I particularly liked the musical poetry.”
“Songs. They’re called songs,” Veta said.
“Songs. Yes. Those were most interesting.” He glanced at Freya. “Many tales of the inability to resist someone’s desires.”
