Under Different Stars (11 page)

“They threatened war,” he replies. “I remember it…it was all anyone spoke of for a while.”

“So my parents left because they were afraid of causing a war?”

“Maybe…or maybe they wanted to protect something far more important to them.”

“What?” I ask, not getting it.

“You…the Alameeda didn’t know about you and maybe your parents wanted to keep it that way. They could’ve stayed on Ethar—in Rafe. We don’t turn over our citizens to anyone, not even the Alameeda, not even if they threatened the peace we had enjoyed for more than thirty years.”

“How did you know about me—where to find me?” Goose bumps rise on my arm and I rub them.

“I was sent—I’m special Cavar—elite branch. We were told of an important mission to Earth and I volunteered.”

“So, they knew about me—your superiors?”

Trey frowns. “You were not unexpected, if that’s what you’re asking. No one named you, but offspring was discussed,” he admits, still frowning.

“What?”

“I felt then that they anticipated a child…that offspring was a…certainty. I was surprised when Jax was assigned to the mission.”

“He wouldn’t normally come?”

“Not to remand prisoners. It’s like you were a special case from the start.”

I shake my head. “I’m so dead,” I whisper, feeling like I’m going to hyperventilate. Stopping in my tracks, I lean against a tree. “Trey, you have to take me back. I can’t…I don’t know how to survive here. You’re talking about politics on a scale that I can’t navigate. This isn’t dodging DSS or how bad someone will hurt me in some foster care hell. This is—this is about whether or not I can tell if the next person I meet is going to want to kill me for what I can or cannot do or what I might or might not know or how I can influence…” My eyes fill up with tears. I squeeze my hands into fists, trying to force them back down.

Trey faces me. “Kricket,” he says my name in a soothing tone. “I can’t take you back…they’ll find you on Earth. You can’t hide anymore…it would be like trying to dodge raindrops. You believe me, don’t you?”

Wiping my cheek with my fist as a tear slides down it, I say ironically, “Of course I believe you. I’m a priestess. I know when you’re lying. It’s my special
gift
.” My throat aches from trying to stop my tears.

His eyes go wide. “You’d know if I was lying?”

“Yes,” I admit wearily, feeling completely depleted.

Trey’s jaw tenses. “We keep that a secret just between you and me. Promise,” Trey says adamantly, putting his hand on my hair and stroking it gently.

“Who am I gonna tell?”

“Promise,” he says again. His hand moves to my cheek. He uses his thumb to wipe away a tear.

“Sure, I promise,” I agree, feeling a surge of desire at his touch. I resist the urge to rest my cheek against his chest.

His thumb rubs my cheek again, lingering there before his hand drops from me. “We need to get you to Rafe. You’re our citizen. We’ll protect you,” he says. “You know I’m not lying.”

“You may not be lying, but you could be totally naïve, Trey.”

His eyes soften. “So, you aren’t infallible?” he asks with a smile in his tone.

“You wouldn’t want to play poker against me, I’d know when you’re bluffing.”

“What’s poker?”

“A card game,” I reply, looking up at him. His hand brushes my hair again, tucking it behind my ear.

“Diverting?” He takes my hand in his.

“Lucrative…I can earn a stack doing it. I just can’t let anyone suspect that I’m playing them, not the cards,” I explain, allowing him to lead me as we begin to walk again.

“That sounds dangerous,” he says.

“Depends on who gets played.”

“Can you predict the outcome? What card will be laid next?” he asks, stepping over rocks and helping me traverse them.

“I don’t know…” I answer, thinking.

“You’re young…I wonder what else you’ll be able to do,” he says offhandedly.

“You think there will be more?” I feel my heart race.

“I wouldn’t bet against it,” he answers, but seeing me drop my chin in fear, he quickly changes the subject. “We need to keep moving. Jax and Wayra will scout the territory west, looking to pick up our trail. They’re probably ahead of us now, but when they don’t find our trail, they’ll double back.”

Moving quietly together, Trey and I make it to a precipice where uneven, moss-covered limestone overlooks a spectacular view of a valley below. As we near the edge of the crag, my breath catches in my throat as decaying skyscrapers appear below us. Hollow frames with crushed and fallen-in rooflines scatter the horizon like some ancient civilization long abandoned.

“What’s this?” I ask, feeling goose bumps rising on my arms.

“Amster. Some people refer to it now as the ‘Amster Rushes,’ because the ruins look like the stems of plants growing in a wetland. It was a great city a century ago,” he says.

“Looks like it has hit a recession,” I reply, rubbing my arm with my hand.

“Its demise was not brought on by any economic force…it was a pandemic that destroyed this city…and just about every other city in Ethar a thousand years ago.”

“A plague?” I repeat, as a shiver runs through me, while following him along the rocky path.

“Yes, things changed here very quickly. It’s reported that the virus, named ‘Black Math,’ developed into a pandemic in less than two rotations. Incubation of the disease was rapid—less than a rotation from contracting it until it annihilates the person’s vital organs.”

“How many people did it kill?” I ask, horrified.

“Billions. I don’t know the exact death toll, but it nearly wiped out the entire population.”

My jaw hangs open for a moment. “It almost killed everyone?”

Trey nods sadly. “We have a cure for it now and we have laws.”

“Laws?” I ask, not knowing what laws will do to stop a pandemic.

“Yes. We strive to maintain a balance on Ethar now. We try to control ourselves. We don’t pollute the environment which will cause microorganisms to mutate and wipe us out.”

“You think something like that can be controlled through environmental precautions?”

“It’s a start,” he replies. “In the wake of the pandemic, the five houses of Ethar developed from the survivors.”

“What are the names of the five houses?” I see light dawning on the horizon and shining on the rusty skeletons of the Amster Rushes.

“Rafe, Alameeda, Comantre, Peney, and Wurthem,” he states, pulling his night-vision glasses from his face.

“Who’s the most powerful?” I ask, seeing him grin. I pull my glasses off as well, handing them back to Trey who pauses to put them in his bag.

“You have to ask?”

“I mean, besides us?” I roll my eyes. He pauses, looking at me and taking my hand again.

His smile deepens. “Finally,” Trey mutters.

“Hmm?” I ask, confused as he squeezes my hand.

“You said, ‘us,’” Trey replies, his eyes softening in the corners.

“I did?” I stiffen. “Well, I meant to say, ‘besides Rafe.’”

“But you said ‘us’ instead,” he replies triumphantly, causing a small smile to twist my lips. We begin walking again while his smile only broadens.

“Fine,” I mutter, “
besides us
.”

“Alameeda is as large as
us
and their technology is keeping pace with ours. The other houses are smaller. They’re all powerful in their own ways, though.”

“So, our ally is Comantre. Who aligns with Alameeda?”

Trey’s eyebrows rise. “You don’t act your age. You ask questions that I’d expect from someone older than you.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Really? Don’t be too awed by the profundity of my mind. I just find it important to know where everyone stands. I hate stepping on land mines. It’s messy.”

“The Alameeda are aligned with the Wurthem Clan,” he replies, looking serious. “Making them the largest in numbers.”

“What about Peney?”

“They like to remain neutral.”

“Ahh, they’re Switzerland,” I muse. “You said that together, Alameeda and Wurthem are the largest? How large?” I wonder, trying to gauge if we’re talking a population like China or something like the US.

“Together, they have a population a little smaller than Chicago,” Trey replies, and then he pauses when I stop walking beside him.

“What?” I breathe.

“Alameeda has almost a million citizens—Wurthem is a couple of hundred thousand short of that. They’re big, but…”

“Trey…if they’re the biggest, then that means there are less than five million people on Ethar,” I breathe. “That’s…”

“Black Math,” he replies grimly. “Now you see why it’s important that we don’t allow humans to become aware that we exist? We have more advanced technology than humans, but they’d have sheer numbers.”

“And your defense department—Skye—doesn’t like those odds?”

“No, especially not when coupled with Alameeda’s recent aggression. We don’t need problems with humans, too.”

“Alameeda is causing trouble?”

“The Alameeda Brotherhood is no longer adhering to our global treaties and laws. You just witnessed their airspace violations first hand.”

So...the Brotherhood is like Skye?”

“Not exactly. Rafe divides power mainly between Skye and our monarch, which is the Regent. That’s not the case with the Brotherhood; they’re the ruling faction. Period. There are at any one time around twenty males from the most powerful Alameeda families who comprise the Brotherhood.

“Just males?” I ask, wrinkling my nose when Trey nods. “I’m annoyed already.”

“Really? Because it gets worse, these males are bred for the Brotherhood. Whenever a brother is lost, they meet to choose candidates to fill the vacancy.”

“How do they choose?”

“It’s a secret,” Trey smirks.

“And the priestesses?”

“They’re owned by the Brotherhood—controlled by them. Most are given to a Brother as a consort—a wife.”

“She has no say in it?” I ask in disgust.

“No.

We walk together in silence; I’m trying to process what I just learned. Hearing moving water ahead, the rocks twist around a bend, exposing a small, shimmering waterfall. Water is collecting in a pool nearby before it flows to the edge of the stone, pouring off the ledge, creating another waterfall to the valley floor far below.

“We’ll break here,” Trey says, pulling me along to the water’s edge.

“Is this water safe to wash in?” I ask, eyeing the water suspiciously.

Grinning, Trey pulls off his shirt and runs toward the water, jumping in and disappearing in its depths. Surfacing, he says, “It’s perfect.”

Tentatively, I walk to the edge, dipping my foot in. It’s just cool enough to be refreshing. Easing into the water, I grip the rocks near me, leaning my head back to submerge my hair, rinsing it off. Splashing water on my face, I try to wash the dirt from it using my hands.

Peeking at Trey, he has his back to me, running his hands through his hair. Beads of water are trickling down his skin, flowing over the sleek contours from his broad back to his narrow waist. Feeling heat creep into my cheeks and spread throughout my body, I forget what I’m doing for a second.

“Kricket?” Trey asks, making my eyes shoot to his face as he gazes at me over his shoulder.

“Hmm?” I feel my face flush hotter.

“I asked you if you’re hungry?” he says, looking puzzled.

“Uh…yeah,” I reply, turning and wading out of the water, while running my fingers through my hair to smooth the tangles in it. I’m beginning to feel like a crusty, granola girl. It’s not a look that I favor.

Going to his pack, he returns with his bedroll, spreading it on the ground. He hands me a protein bar. I scowl at him, watching him smile. “What?” he asks before saying, “Jax and Wayra have all the good food. I just have these.”

I sit down next to him on his bedroll. Taking a bite of my protein bar, I can’t help cringing. “You know what I miss?” I ask.

“No,” he replies, lying back with his arm behind his head, chewing.

“Pizza—and not that crappy New York style pizza. No, I’m talking Chicago deep-dish. The kind that’s so thick, it’s impossible to eat more than one piece.”

“Talk to Wayra. He ate a large one of those by himself,” Trey says with a smile.

“Yeah?” I ask, amazed.

“Yeah,” he says softly as I lay back next to him. 

Yawning, I eat the rest of my disgusting breakfast and accept the minty leaf from Trey to cleanse the taste from my mouth.

“Is a large pizza as big as an entire venish?” I close my eyes wearily.

“No,” Trey murmurs with a smile in his voice.

“Oh,” I reply before falling asleep with Trey’s warm body next to mine.

CHAPTER 10

TRANSPORT

“Kricket,” a soft whisper breathes in my ear as a masculine cheek grazes mine.

A warm hand strokes my side and I mumble, “Sleepy.” Turning over, I snuggle against him, feeling his chest resting against my back, spooning me.

“I should get hazard pay for this,” Trey groans as he dislodges his arm that’s trapped beneath me. Pulling away from me, he sits up.

“You’re looking alert, sir.” Jax’s voice is full of mirth. Opening my eyes, I see Jax and Wayra standing beside the water, watching Trey and me.

“Took you long enough,” Trey mutters sullenly, not getting up. I sit up next to him, rubbing my eyes and smiling at Jax and Wayra.

“You didn’t get eaten by the saer,” Wayra says, sounding jazzed about it.

“That’s debatable,” Trey replies next to me, frowning.

“You get much sleep, sir?” Jax grins.

“No, something crept into my bones—my blood.”

“Are you sick?” I ask, concerned. His frown deepens, but he doesn’t answer.

“Sir, go walk it off,” Jax says sympathetically. “We’ll feed the little silver-haired siren.”

“Yeah…okay,” Trey mutters, getting up and walking away from us.

“Is he okay?” I ask Jax, completely confused.

“He’s a
very
healthy male.” Jax comes nearer to me and hands me breakfast.

“Thanks.” I accept a quiche from Jax. “How did you get away from the saers?” I ask and take a bite, watching for Trey to come back.

“The spixes forced us to the opposite side of the field from you,” Wayra says. “We saw you break for the trees! Kricket, that took courage!”

“That wasn’t courage. I was following orders,” I reply.

“You should join the Cavars.” Wayra holds up his wrist horizontally, with his hand balled in a fist, like a weird salute.

Mimicking him and watching him grin, I hear Jax ask Wayra, “Can you imagine her in our regiment?”

Wayra frowns. “On second thought, it’s too dangerous for you, Kricket.”

“Did I just get dishonorably discharged?” I grin and finish my quiche.

“No, you’re just…you know…small.”

“You keep saying that,” I reply, rolling my eyes like he’s crazy.

Snapping branches make us all look toward the trees. “We’ve got Comantre Syndics—units on our eight and thirteen,” Trey says, creeping near us. I stiffen, seeing Wayra and Jax jump to their feet.

Trey heads directly for his gear. He pulls out clothing, and then he shrugs into a long, tunic-style jersey that reaches to his thighs. The fabric is like supple leather in drab green with black inset darts running through the material on either side. As the tunic falls into place, it makes him look like a modern, urban version of a medieval Knights Templar. The hood attached to the tunic is black and it’s sleeker than a medieval cowl, more chic. The sleeves look like a lightweight form of chainmail, hugging the curves of his arms that are protected by more black fabric. His black pants are overlaid with the same type of armor. Trey pushes his hood back and turns to me in an assessing way.

He takes another uniform from his gear and brings it to me saying, “Put this on.”

Wayra and Jax have dressed in uniforms, too. I start to pull it over my head. “No,” Trey orders, “We need to get rid of your human clothes. We’re not giving them any information about our mission. Don’t speak unless I say it’s all right.”

I nod, blushing and turning away from him. Taking off my t-shirt, I hand it to Trey before pulling the tunic on over my head. This one is dove-gray with deep, intricate crimson lines running like darts through the torso of the garment on either side. Soft sleeves that lack armor are attached to it, making it more of a dress uniform than a combat one. The tunic reaches below my knees, making me look waifish.

I unbutton my jeans and step out of them. I toss them to Trey who throws them in the water. They float away and disappear over the edge of the cliff. Pushing and rolling the blousy sleeves, I allow Trey to wrap a crimson scarf around my waist like a belt, cinching the garment to me more securely. Stepping back from me, Trey’s frown deepens.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Wayra says next to him, looking at me critically.

“What do you mean?” I try to see what I look like.

“He was trying to make you look like you’ve spent your entire life on Ethar.”

“At least her boots cover her toenails,” Jax says under his breath.

“Try putting up the cowl,” Wayra suggests, and Trey flips up the hood, covering my hair with the soft, gray leather.

“No, it looks like we’re trying to hide her hair,” Trey says, flipping the hood back down.

“We are trying to hide her hair. It makes her look Alameeda.”

“We’ll be treated with suspicion no matter what,” Trey says. “No one speaks of the mission. We spotted Alameeda violating the treaties while on holiday in the Forests of Omnicron. We are seeking safe passage as citizens of Rafe.”

Only moments later, a unit of well-armed, enormous soldiers crash through the brush, pointing weapons that look like tricked-out machine guns at us and shouting orders for us to surrender and kneel. Trey, Wayra, and Jax slowly drop to their knees, putting their hands behind their heads.

Weapons swing toward me, training on my heart with blue beams of light. I raise my chin, balling my hands into fist and putting them on my hips.

Scowling at Trey, I say between my teeth, “Honey! Are you going to let them speak to me like that?”

Wayra and Jax’s eyes become rounder. Trey’s eyes narrow as he says in a soft tone, “Kricket, these are Comantre soldiers—”

“I see them…and they’re ruining my holiday, sweetness,” I whine in a grating tone, trying to keep my hands clenched so no one sees them shaking. “Tell them that you told me that if I agreed to a commitment ceremony with you, that you’d take me to the Forest of Omnicron where I could see wild saers and herds of spixes!” I sneer at Trey, gesturing with a flick of my hand toward the soldiers who look stupefied in front of us. “THEN, you can tell them how YOUR men lost all MY luggage! Just because they saw some Alameeda thingies flying around.”

Turning to the soldiers in front of me, their pure pleasure at the spectacle I’m creating gives me the courage to continue. “They lost EVERYTHING! LOOK AT ME! I have to wear his clothes,” I complain, pulling at the beautiful tunic like it’s a rag.

“Kricket—” Trey tries again, but I cut him off.

“I’m telling my father—you know how important he is in Rafe. He’s going to be
very
upset,” I burst into tears and hide my face in my hands.

“Kitten—” Trey plays along.

“
Don’t you Kitten me
!” I hiss, taking my hands from my face. “I just want to go back to Rafe!” I stamp my foot. I peek at my tunic and notice blue laser beams are no longer dotting the front.

One of the soldiers walks over to Trey, motioning for him to get up. Trey rises, along with Wayra and Jax who are averting their eyes from me. The soldier asks Trey in a low tone, “Is this your first consort?”

“We’re from Rafe. We only get one consort,” Trey responds sourly, scowling at me.

“She’s part Alameeda,” the soldier says. It’s not a question.

“Yes, she is.”

“Only the good part!” I sneer at them, like a true waspish princess.

Hearing the Comantre soldiers cracking up, the one that seems to be in charge says in a low tone to Trey, “You poor wacker,” while looking at me and shaking his head. “You can’t commit to the young ones, no matter how beautiful they are.”

“I know, but look at her,” Trey says, gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful creature he’s ever set eyes on.

“Well, that’s the trap, isn’t it? No one told you that they change the instant you commit, did they?” He smirks. Trey shakes his head. “Ah well…you’ll have to make it up to her then. No going back now.”

“No going back now,” Trey agrees, almost to himself. I make a derisive sound, crossing my arms and looking at the sky.

“So you’ve had a hard go of it on your holiday?” the soldier asks.

“You could say that. We spotted Alameeda violating airspace. It made us cut our plans short. Our transport out isn’t supposed to arrive for another three days. Can’t understand what they were doing there.”

“Yeah, we saw them, too,” the soldier says. “That’s why we’ve doubled our patrols on the border. They haven’t acted aggressively toward us, but knowing them, that could change in an instant.”

“Trey Allairis of Rafe,” Trey introduces himself with a nod.

“Gideon Santis of Comantre,” the soldier replies by way of an introduction, inclining his head. “Looks like you could use a transport.”

“We would be in your debt,” Trey replies, smiling gratefully.

“We could take you back to Comantre Crosses. You’ll have to arrange something from there.”

“We have friends there. It should be no trouble arranging something.”

“You have identification?” Gideon asks, narrowing his green eyes at Trey.

“We do, but my consort has lost hers with her gear,” Trey lies easily, while producing metal tags that he detaches from the wide black belt on his waist.

Examining and scanning the tags with a handheld device, Gideon nods, before handing them back and saying, “Well, come with us then.” He pauses, looking at me while shaking his head and muttering, “You poor wacker.”

Wayra and Jax collect the gear while Trey walks to my side, putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. Pressing my face to his uniform, I cry real tears, feeling my body shaking against his.

He whispers in my ear, “What did you call me?”

Searching my mind, I ask, “Sweetness?”

“No, before that?” I can hear the grin in his voice.

“Honey?” I ask, sniffling and pulling back to look in his eyes, seeing them soften as he looks at me.

“Yes…honey…you’ll have to tell me later what that is,” he says softly, pulling me back to his chest and rubbing my back soothingly. “Please let me take it from here. If you say more, your human upbringing may slip out.”

Nodding, I whisper, “I’m all tapped out. It’s your show now.”

“Good…I think.”

“We have an ALV on the ridge,” Gideon says, beckoning us to follow him. Trey nods, leaving his arm around my shoulder and pressing me to his side as we walk with the soldiers.

An enormous, black, bullet-shaped ship, the length of three El cars and the width of two, is poised on a rocky ledge. Its large cargo door is open on one side, acting as a ramp to enter the vehicle. Jump seats line the walls on either side of the ship. Leading me to one, Trey indicates that I should sit.

Gazing around like a tourist, I sit in the seat. Instantly, belts crisscross my chest, pinning me to the seatback. Gasping loudly, I look down wildly at the belts. I can see that I’ve drawn everyone’s attention when I look up again.

“She’s used to Hover Crims,” Trey says, excusing my behavior to the Comantre soldiers. Sitting down next to me, the belts on his seat instantly wrap around him, securing him to the seatback.

“Oh,” I say with a nervous smile. When I begin to wring my hands, Trey covers them with his own, squeezing gently. Jax sits on my other side, and Wayra sits directly across from me, like sentries.

Gideon watches Trey and me from his seat across from Trey’s. His eyes rest on our hands clasped together. He’s studying me with a fascinated expression, like he’s never seen anyone who looks like me before. “You’re such an odd mix—Alameeda and Rafe…almost impossible to believe.”

“Her mother was an ambassador of Alameeda and her father is royalty. He always says that he’s never met a more intriguing woman in all of his rotations than her mother,” Trey replies easily. “They committed to each other and they now live in the Valley of Thistle.”

“I hear that Thistle is grand,” Gideon says while still studying me. “They hold the spix races there, don’t they?” he asks.

“They do. You should come with your family. We’d love to host you,” Trey says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder familiarly as I lean my cheek against his chest. “Wouldn’t we, Kitten?”

“Mmm,” I nod. “That sounds like a dream.”

“Is that where you held your commitment ceremony? In Thistle, Kricket?” Gideon asks me kindly.

“Yes…Thistle. It’s very lovely this time of…uh, now,” I end, aware that I almost said “year.” Trying to cover my near slip, I add, “You know…I studied human culture…it’s a little obsession of mine, so I wanted to model my commitment ceremony after a traditional human wedding.”

“Really?” Gideon’s rust-colored eyebrows rise in question. “What did you do?”

“Oh…well, it was magical…wasn’t it, Trey?” I ask him, peering up at his eyes and seeing him nod slowly. “We wanted to keep it simple, so we hosted it in the back yard of our estate…and my mother said that the gazebo in the garden would be a perfect place to say the vows. We decorated it with wildflowers, but we didn’t use any Znous because they have turbine worms in them.”

Several of the soldiers sitting near us laugh, like I made a joke. Realizing that they’re listening too, I blush a little, before continuing. “I wore a white gown and Trey wore a black suit and we wrote our own vows to each other.”