He started up the stairs before I could ask him about it. I scrambled up the stairs after him, and between the two of us, we made a bit of a racket. The figure in the doorway stirred. She pulled her head up and blinked. Her skin was very pale, a milky white. Her cheeks had a smattering of freckles across them. Her eyes were elvish—flat, broad pupils, no whites—but the pupils were ringed in a steely gray. Where Dirva’s face was narrow and angular, his sister’s was round and wide. His eyes were almond-shaped, one of the few decidedly Semadran things about him, but hers were ovals with deep folds. His nose was thin, hooked, and hers was flat. They looked nothing alike. I saw absolutely no family resemblance. She grinned. Her face lit up when she grinned, her emotions so raw and uninhibited that it embarrassed me. She had a grin that made me feel like I’d eavesdropped. “Lor! Was wondering when you’d get home.”

She spoke in City Lothic, which I’d never heard spoken before. Dirva spoke City Lothic back. He pinched his forehead with one hand and rested the other on his hip. “Abbie, what are you doing here?”

She pulled herself upright. She was short. She had a roundness to her, frankly outlined by her close-cut City-style clothes, which embarrassed me further. She shrugged on her coat and ruffled her short, white hair. “Came to see you, you daft bastard. What else would I be doing here? What, not happy to see me? Been ages.”

Dirva’s eyebrows drew together, then apart, then together again. The corners of his eyes crinkled. I could feel a ripple of contradictory emotions flicker through him. He frowned at me and I marshaled my rough skills to pull the shaping back. “I am happy to see you. Of course I am happy to see you. But there’s a catch, I know there is.” His sister’s grin turned canny. He sighed and hugged her, and then he unlocked the door.

She stared at me as he unlocked the door. It was different than the stares I usually get, something more penetrating. More overtly judgmental. It made me extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey, Lor?”

“Yes, Abbie?”

“Who’s this little copper shit you got following you about?”

Dirva sighed and held the door open for her. “He speaks Lothic. He can hear you. Please stop insulting him.”

She hovered in the doorway, still looking me over as she gathered her things. “So what’s your story, kid?”