Blood vessels and tendons weave like hoverways under the Chancellor’s translucent skin. She brushes her pale, sickly hands over my forehead. Don’t react. I swallow hard. The person in front of me barely looks human. She looks more like the ghost shrimp I saw once at the Albuquerque aquarium. Just like the ghost shrimp in the tank, she’s both beautiful … and horrifying, her veins glowing red and blue under pale skin. Her darker cheekbones arch too high on her face, leaving a shadowed valley to her jawline. And her lips, the color of lilacs, are too full. Her eyes are so light I can see spiderweb capillaries behind her irises. She smiles.
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