The silence stretches on for a few long breaths, before Excelsior says, “You do look exactly like your mother . . . except for your eyes. Violet.”
My eyes shift back to his once more. “And you look like Kyon.”
He frowns. “He looks like me. It’s why he isn’t dead.”
“He was saved by your narcissism then? I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that.”
“He was saved by the fact that I know he’s mine,” he replies. What he says is true, but at the same time it isn’t. His answer makes me pause in confusion.
“There’s always a paternity test,” I mutter. “No need for doubt.”
“One can’t always believe those. Too many bleeding-heart technicians who are eager to save a child.” I understand what he’s referring to because, unbeknown to him, I have met a few of the gifted “lost boys” whom he’s failed to destroy—the males born to priestesses who exhibit the kind of freak gene I have.
“I’d suspect that after meeting you, anyone would go way out of her way to deny your paternity.”
“They go out of their way to claim that the males born to priestesses, like you, are declared ungifted . . . even when they’re not.”
I think of Giffen. He’s one of those. “Sounds as if no one wants you to slaughter innocent children.”
“I’m saving the people who count. Should those males survive, they’d rise up and kill us all.”
“Or maybe just you. I think I’d like to see that.”
He scowls. “I know you would. That’s why I’m here.”
“So I can watch you die? Aww, that’s sort of thoughtful of you. I’ll enjoy that.”
He ignores me. “Kyon must be made to understand that you’re not worth his demise.”
“You’re right—I’m really not. Maybe we should convince him to take me back to Earth? I promise I won’t return to Ethar.”
“You’ll never leave Ethar. You have something that belongs to me.”
“I don’t think I do, but what is it that you think I owe you, Excelsior?”
“The future.”
“Do you expect me to read your palm or something? Could you really trust me if I did?”
“I have all the predictions I need. Your mother saw to that. She gave us her prophecies. No, I’m speaking of your other future.”
“Which would be?”
“Your offspring, Kricket. They belong to me.”
My mouth hangs wide. I glance at Kyon. He’s watching me. My eyes travel back to the image of Excelsior. “I don’t have any children.”
“Nor will you.”
“Then how do you intend to take ownership of my offspring?”
“Your organs will be harvested. I’ll have everything I need to create my own daughters from your bloodline.”
I feel myself growing pale. “You’re a sick psychopath, Excelsior. I’m going to make it my mission to mess you up in ways you can’t even imagine!” I’m bluffing. Inside, my blood turns cold with dread.
“I hope you prove to be more of an adversary than your mother. She was so trusting until it was almost too late.”
“She was a child.”
“You’re a child.”
“You’re wrong. I haven’t been a child for a long time.”
“When I come for you, I’ll divide you up into so many pieces that you—”
“Oscil, end transmission,” Kyon interrupts. The image of Excelsior evaporates, leaving me face-to-face with Kyon instead. I don’t say anything. My mind is buzzing with the knowledge that my plight just went from completely awful to extremely wretched in a matter of a few moments. I don’t know how long I stare at Kyon, unseeing, but I flinch when he speaks. “You scare him, Kricket. He isn’t one to verbally threaten his enemies. He usually never lets them know they’re his enemies until after he strikes them with a death blow.”
“I don’t know if I like that distinction.”
“I don’t mind it. It gives us something in common.”
“How long until Excelsior gets through your defenses, Kyon?”
“You’ll have to let me know the answer to that question.”
His response scares me. “I’d like to be alone.”
Kyon shrugs. “The airships will be kept at bay—that makes the island open to you.” He indicates the aircraft on the bank of screens that surround the office. They’re moving away. “We’re safe while they formulate another strategy. If you’d like, you can take a walk through the gardens and paths behind the house.”
I rise to my feet, desperate to get away from here. I move around the edge of the desk. When I near him, he reaches out and grasps my wrist gently. “Stay off the beach until I say otherwise,” he orders. I nod numbly. “And don’t go too far. It’s easy to get lost.”
“Fine.” I shake off his hand.
“I expect you back before it grows dark.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmur. It takes everything I have not to run from the room. When I reach the doorway, I pause. Without looking at Kyon, I ask, “Why is Excelsior afraid of me?”
“He knows you’re here to kill him.”
It’s not voluntary, the way I react to what Kyon says. I don’t remember crossing the threshold of the room or getting to the staircase, but somewhere on the second floor, I realize I’m running. Retracing my steps back to the main floor, I rush around until I find a foyer made of thousands of panes of glass. It leads outside. The glare of the sun meets me, blinding me for a moment as I stumble around, looking for a direction to run. Finding a stone-covered path, I follow it away from the house.
Passing garden-bots, whose metallic bodies glimmer in the harsh sunshine, I shield my eyes from the glare. The path leads through manicured hedgerows. As I dart around them, I scrape my arms on their sharp angles. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Kyon isn’t following me, but all I see is the house. It’s a fairy boat of timber and glass.
I hurry farther away from it toward the high sea grass and a forest of palm trees in the distance. Moss-covered stones mark the path I travel. When I make it to the trees, I instantly feel relief from the sun within their shade. A gentle breeze drifts against my face. Panting, I slow my pace a bit, following the grassy path that winds ahead of me.
Unable to think clearly, I’m capable only of putting one foot in front of the other at the moment. The impulse to hide is so strong. I don’t know how far I am from the house, but I pause when I spy a slate roofline deep in the woods. It’s a small, stone gazebo built on a knoll to overlook the sea in the distance. Beside it, a small brook babbles and flows over smooth stones on its way to the side of the hill in a trickling waterfall. I go to the ledge of the shelter, sitting on it. In the distance, the Sea of Stars sparkles like the glimmers of a thousand searchlights. Watching it, I try to get my head together, but I can’t brush off the events of my nightmarish morning.
Excelsior Ensin is insane. People like me don’t win against people like Excelsior. I know that from growing up in Chicago. If I stand up to him, I die. The huge obstacle I face is that Kyon refuses to let me go. I have to find a way to escape them both. This has never been my fight, not really. I’d been discarded on Earth. Ethar means almost nothing to me, or at least, it never used to—now I’m not so sure. It’s Trey’s home and he’s my home.