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should. I was so busy feeling self-conscious that it took a while for the eddies of his mood to register. Finally it occurred to me that maybe he felt clumsy too. It was an odd thought; he seemed so confident, uncaring of what people thought of him. Except for me. Why?
    I watched him rub the small of his back. “I can’t believe you moved all those boxes in one night,” I said.
    “That’s what that man Brad said too.” He smiled. “Ragnar would say the hard work is good for me.”
    “Who?”
    “Ragnar. Admiral Ragnar Bloodmark. A family friend.” His face relaxed. “He’s been my mentor since I was a small boy. Like a second father.”
    It was impossible for me to imagine having not one, but two, fathers. “You’re lucky.”
    “He could never replace my father. My father is a bard. A singer. Ragnar is a military man, and a biomech doctor. He understood when I decided to become a Jagernaut. My father, all he sees is that I might die.”
    I spoke softly. “That’s because he loves you.”
    Althor’s expression gentled, and he brushed his hand over my hair. I picked up a lovely sense from him, as if he wanted to make contact in some way he couldn’t define himself, to touch me with a drop of that love both his father and mentor had given him. I caught his fingers and kissed his knuckles the way he had kissed mine that morning. As I let his hand go, his mouth opened slighdy, surprise glistening in the air around him.
    Although we were silent after that, it was comfortable, neither of us feeling the need to talk. Eventually he started playing with his transcom. Once again, it appeared from nowhere.
    “Where do you put that when you’re not using it?” I asked. “In its slot.”
    “Slot?”
    He didn’t respond. As he worked with his transcom, his good mood vanished.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    “The Jag, it still has problems.”
    I wanted to ask more, but we had reached the steps of my building. I stopped, awkward again. “Well. This is it. Thanks for walking me home.”
    Althor stood looking at me. I hesitated, not wanting him to leave but afraid to go any further.
    It was Althor who finally spoke. “I should walk you upstairs.” He paused. “To make certain you reach your rooms safely.”
    I swallowed. “Okay.”
    As we entered the building, I flipped the light switch. Nothing happened, so we climbed the stairs in the dark and walked to my room with only moonlight from the window to show the way.
    I stopped at my door. “Well. This is it.”
    He glanced around the scorched hall. “You will be safe here?”
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “Do your brothers wait inside?”
    I hesitated. “I don’t have no brothers.”
    “Then why you tell me you do last night?”
    “I didn’t trust you.”
    He touched my cheek. “And now you do?”
    My instincts said yes, logic said no. I knew I should listen to the logic. But I was so tired of coming home alone to that ugly little room alone. “I was thinking… you might come in.”
    Althor slid his hand into my hair, letting his fingers pull through the long strands. “I would like that.”
    I was so nervous, I kept putting keys in the wrong locks. Finally I got the door open. The electricity wasn’t working inside either, so I retrieved my flashlight from the TV table. It made a circle of light around me and left the rest of the room in shadow.
    Althor came in and locked up the door. The police lock took him the longest, as he figured out how to set the bar in the floor and brace it against the door. I pointed the light in his direction, shining it on the wall when he turned around so it wouldn’t blind him.
    “I don’t understand,” he said. “Why is there no power here?”
    “It’ll come on in a day or two.” I took a stand I had made out of an old birdcage out from under the table and set it next to the TV When I stuck in the flashlight, it shined on the ceiling.
    “Two days?” Althor stared at me. “Why so long?”
    “Our landlords are