The Descent into the Maelstrom (The Phantom of the Earth Book 4) by Raeden Zen

full, almost chubby, around her small nose and lips. She whispered in one boy’s ear, grabbed another’s crotch, giggled, then spun out of their orbit, her floral gown floating around her.
    Gaia kissed Oriana on each cheek. “I’m so glad your developers let you come.”
    Oriana had explained to her after the last class how stern the Summersets could be with their endless list of rules, particularly on engaging with Harpoon candidates. Don’t insult anyone. Don’t lose control. Don’t be snotty. Don’t share stories. Don’t trust them. Don’t help them. If she listened to the Summersets, she’d have no friends at all!
    “They have to let us have some free time,” Oriana said, thinking about the constant simulations and studies and meditations and training between Harpoon classes.
    Gaia grinned in that mysterious, mischievous way she would when she chatted about boys. “That they do.” Her eyes searched past Oriana to where Pasha stood.
    “Pleasure to see you, Miss Gaia,” Pasha said. He sounded like Lord Thaddeus, and acted like him when he took Gaia’s hand in his, kissing it.
    Oriana rolled her eyes.
    “Ho, Oriana!”
    Knowing Nathan’s voice without seeing him, she turned. “Ho, Nathan.”
    He stood beside Duccio, Gaia’s blood brother. Biologically they were the same in late adolescence, similar to Oriana, Pasha, and most other candidates. In truth, while Gaia was born a full fifteen days after Duccio, she often acted like the elder. Oriana didn’t understand how the two candidates, developed by the same house, born of the same parents, could be so different.
    “I thought you weren’t coming.” Nathan strode the last few meters between them, all smiles. He reached for Oriana, his cufflinks sparkling in the strobe light. He held her for a long moment. When he pulled back, she felt a little giddy.
    The tingly sensations disappeared when Duccio winked at her. There was something about him that made her stomach uneasy in a decidedly squirmy way. He had the robust build of a Rastedes candidate and moved as agilely as his sister did. His hands looked thicker and stronger than Nathan’s or Pasha’s, yet felt soft when he touched her. He made a show of lifting her forefingers to his lips. Closing his eyes, he gave them a long, loud kiss, then angled his face toward hers and grinned.
    She pulled her hand away.
    “Sweet princess,” Duccio said, “some say you and your brother are tearing up the leaderboard.”
    Oriana hated it when he called her sweet princess . She at first didn’t know how to respond, though she noted the glance Duccio shared with Gaia, who shook her head disapprovingly. Unlike Pasha’s thoughts, Oriana couldn’t hear Duccio’s or Gaia’s. Gaia was always so kind to her, but her brother spoke emotionlessly, revealing neither his sentiment nor his intentions.
    “Is that what they say?” Oriana couldn’t figure out why Duccio would lie to her. While she’d not seen her ID number in the Summersets’ ticker, she’d been rising in the candidate ranks, clearly. Thinking more about it, she couldn’t keep the pride from her face.
    Pasha stepped beside Oriana without greeting the boys. “From the top,” he said, “my sister and I will see farther—”
    “And fall harder,” Duccio put in, “if you’re not careful.”
    A silence lingered, until Nathan broke it. “Care to try out the lounge?” he said. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing his chest. “It’s a little cooler back there.”
    “More private too,” Gaia agreed. She massaged Nathan’s shoulders, nuzzling her chin on his shoulder.
    Oriana’s breaths quickened with her thoughts. Don’t trust them. “Let’s go then.” She pulled Nathan away from Gaia.
    “Hold up,” Nathan said. He nodded to a girl at the bar, who flipped a few benari coins to the waiter bot. She lifted a Dunamisian-designed polychromatic handbag. Desaray Hawkins. Her colorful hair puffed high from a widow’s peak and splayed