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  “Thanks,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry about all…that. Everything that happened.”

  “What did happen?” Sylvan asked, sitting beside her. “Are you feeling all right now?”

  “Much better.” She took a deep breath. “I think it was the dress. The tharp, I mean. But how can that be?”

  Sylvan frowned. “What was it doing?”

  “Tickling me. Making me itch unbearably. And the sleeves kept twitching too.” She shivered. “Do you think I’m allergic to the fabric, er fur it’s made of?”

  “It’s not made of anything,” Sylvan said. “It’s a sentient being—well, semi-sentient, anyway. But I’ve never heard of anyone being allergic to one before.”

  “What?” She looked shocked. “You mean I’ve been wearing something that’s alive all this time? Like…like some kind of animal?”

  “Of course. An animal with somewhat limited intelligence, but very useful nonetheless.” He looked at the moss green tharp which still dangled limply from his hand. “This one seems brighter than most but still—”

  “You let me wear an animal? A live animal and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Sylvan shook his head. “Don’t your people wear furs too? I know they do—I’ve seen females wearing fur coats and the like.”

  “But they’re dead.”

  “So you’d rather wear a dead animal than a live one?” Sylvan was still trying to understand.

  “A dead animal can’t hurt you or tickle you until you laugh uncontrollably like a maniac.” Sophie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, her eyes blazing. “Or spill a glass of…of woo on the person beside you. Or fondle the other person beside you. Or decide to come down in the middle of a very public function and flash your ta-tas to everybody in the entire room!”

  Sylvan frowned grimly. “I wondered what in the world Lady Whitethorn and Magistrate Licklow were talking about. I knew you wouldn’t…” He cleared his throat. “Make advances to someone who didn’t care to receive them.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t!” Sophie exclaimed, her cheeks turning bright red. “I don’t understand, Sylvan—why didn’t you tell me about the tharp? That was awful.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  Sylvan felt terrible. “I’m so sorry, Sophia,” he said. “I thought Nadiah would explain to you while she was getting you dressed. She was supposed to be certain that you were matched to a tharp that was compatible to you.” He held up the tharp and frowned at it. “Which this one clearly is not.”

  Sophie sniffed. “She did say something about it not being the right one for me but I thought she didn’t like the color. I had no idea it would do such appalling things.”

  “A mischievous tharp can be a lot of trouble but I’ve never heard of one behaving as badly as this one.” Sylvan frowned at the now quiescent animal again. “It must really dislike you.”

  “Well the feeling is mutual, I assure you! Get rid of it!” Sophie drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I just can’t believe this. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.”

  Sylvan sighed. “I’ll dispose of it immediately. Do you want me to kill it?”

  Sophie bit her lip. “I…I don’t know. No, just…get rid of it.”

  “Very well.” He nodded and turned to go. “It will die anyway once it’s away from you.”

  “What? Hey, come back.”

  Sylvan turned back to her. “Yes?”

  “Why? Why will it die?”

  “Even though you two are a bad match, it’s imprinted on you,” Sylvan explained. “Tharps live by choosing a single host and drawing warmth from their skin. In conditions of extreme cold they multiply it and give it back, keeping their host warm—it’s the reason we cultivate them here on Tranq Prime. This one…” He shook the moss green tharp. “Won’t be able to take warmth and nourishment from anyone else.”

  Her eyes widened. “So you’re saying that without me that…that thing will slowly starve to death?”

  Sylvan nodded. “Yes.”

  “Oh my God.” She put her head in her hands. “This is just too much—too much.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean for you to feel overwhelmed.”

  She looked up, her eyes blazing. “Well then you should have told me about the tharp instead of assuming that someone else would. You should have told me I was picking out a lifetime companion and not just a dress to wear to a fancy banquet. Now I feel like somebody who picked a puppy up at the pound and decided to return it because it chewed up all my furniture and peed on my leg.”

  Sylvan frowned. “What?”

  “Just give it back. Give it here.” She gestured at the tharp.

  “But I thought you hated it?”

  “I do.” Sophia’s eyes filled with tears. “I hate this whole damn place. I hate the fact that you have live toilet paper and that you eat dog crap and bug guts for dinner and drink woo that looks like blue Kool-aid and tastes like somebody lit a blowtorch in your mouth. I hate the fact that it’s so damned cold outside I can’t get away. So I’m trapped here with your aunt and uncle, who can’t stand me, because the live clothing they gave me to wear made a fool of me in front of their entire community. And now I’m stuck with a pet I don’t want for…how long do they live?”

  Sylvan cleared his throat. “The average tharp can live as long as its owner.”

  “For life.” Sophia threw up her hands. “I’m stuck with a horrible, badly behaved pet I don’t want for the rest of my life! I hate it, Sylvan. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And I just…just want to go home.” The last word ended on a sob and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

  “Talana…” Sylvan put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

  “Just go away and leave me alone,” she whispered brokenly. “Go back to Feenah—that’s where you want to be.”

  “That isn’t true,” Sylvan said in a low voice.

  “Of course it is.” She looked up, her eyes red from crying. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. Not that I can say anything, I know. But still…still…”

  “Still what?” Sylvan’s heart gave a strange little thump. Could it be that she was jealous? That she cared for him after all? Enough that he didn’t want him to see Feenah?

  But Sophia only shook her head. “Never mind. Just…go. Leave the tharp and go.”

  Sylvan wanted badly to stay and comfort her. To cuddle her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right. But from the look on her tearstained face his comfort wasn’t wanted right now. In fact, he was fairly sure that Sophia wouldn’t want anything to do with him or any of the rest of Tranq Prime for some time to come.

  “Very well, Talana. Maybe we can speak later.” Sighing, he dropped the tharp at the foot of her sleeping platform and left the room.

  What else could he do?

  Chapter Thirty

  Sophie didn’t know how long she cried but finally her sobs tapered off to sniffles, and she lay quietly on the bed on her side. She was so worn out and emotionally exhausted that she didn’t even scream when the moss green tharp began moving toward her. It’s probably coming to suffocate me, she thought dully as she watched it inch across the sleeping platform. Not that I care at the moment. At least then I’d be off this horrible planet.

  But the tharp didn’t try to wind itself around her neck or cover her face. Instead it slowly draped itself around her shoulders like a shawl. It wasn’t until she began to feel warm that Sophie realized she’d been shivering.

  “All right,” she said aloud, stroking an edge of the furry creature. “I know you’re just being nice because I’m your only source of food but okay, you can stay.”

  The tharp seemed to snuggle closer in response to her words and Sophie found that she was actually comforted. Now that she thought about it, having a living blanket that could cuddle with you and keep you warm, even in