Smooth rocks circle the depression in the shape of a crown. If I had to guess, it appears as if a meteorite of some kind had struck the mountaintop here and to mark the event someone placed enormous, bone-white standing stones around it. The stones look ancient, the remnants of a long-dead civilization. Maybe it’s fitting that we’re meeting here, since this civilization might die soon and a new one rise to take its place. Beyond the stones, if you look through the gaps, you can see clear sky in every direction.
Cold wind, reminiscent of Chicago, drifts in. Giffen comes back to me and unlocks my cuff from the handrail before helping me to my feet with his hand upon my elbow. He releases me from the other cuff as well, tossing it aside. “You’ve been to the future?” Giffen whispers beside me on the crest of the ramp. We both watch as a beautiful chrome trift lands opposite us on the gray rock bed.
“Yes.” The elegant door of the chrome trift appears in the almost liquid surface of the craft. A waterfall of chrome pours down from the doorway, forming floating stairs.
When I don’t say more, Giffen exhales in frustration and asks, “How does it go?”
“It doesn’t work out well. She hugs me and they shoot her in the back of the head. Focus on the one holding her. If he raises his gun, don’t hesitate to stop him. I’m going to try to change the outcome my way. If I fail, you’ll have to kill him and try to run.”
Giffen doesn’t seem thrilled with this information. “If we get out of this, is there anything that you want me to tell Astrid for you?” he asks. Both of us regard the broad-shouldered, Kevlar-like-coated Alameeda Strikers who debark from the aircraft with their weapons drawn in plain sight.
“Tell her never to save me again.” The coldness of my reply hangs in the air.
His jaw clenches. “Do you have a message for Pan?” Giffen asks.
“No.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him grimace. “I promise to help you—after we get Astrid home safely.”
I force myself to laugh, but it sounds desolate, even to me. “Ahh, don’t change now, lost boy. You were doing so well as the bad guy.”
Kyon descends the trift steps. He’s attired in a long, black coat with a brown fur collar and brown fur cuffs. He looks regal and virile. Behind him, a young woman is half dragged, half thrown down the steps. She whips her dark hair back from her face and I’m struck again, as I was a short time ago in the future, by our lack of resemblance. She’s much prettier than me with her black hair and big eyes. She’s taller than me as well. She doesn’t have my curves, either; her frame is more slender than mine. It’s lucky we don’t look alike. If we did, Kyon would notice.
I clench my hands to keep them from visibly shaking. Without looking at Giffen, I say, “We’re done. I hope I never see you again.”
I take a step toward Kyon, but Giffen holds my arm and won’t let me go. He faces my profile. This is different; I’ve already changed the future just by telling him what happens in it. Leaning down, Giffen whispers in my ear. “We’re not done!” His lips brush the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver. “I’ll find you soon.” I refuse to look at him. He lets go of my arm. Straightening my shoulders, I walk down the ramp toward Kyon, who tracks my every movement.
The harsh wind picks up my hair, stirring it around and into my swollen face. I ignore it. Astrid is released from the grasp of a brutish soldier, pushed forward so that she almost falls flat on her face. I try not to look at her because my eyes should never stray from Kyon too long.
As Astrid nears, her eyes rivet on me. I hear her voice inside my head, Kick-it! Her tone is desperate; it resonates in my brain like she’s inside me.
Don’t you dare hug me! I think in an angry tone. Pretend like you don’t know me, Astrid, or you’re dead! They’ll shoot you in the back of the head and leave you here. Just walk!
Astrid stumbles a step. Her eyes widen and I know she hears me—it’s her special gift: communicating nonverbally. I continue to walk by her, never once glancing at her. Out of the corner of my eye I watch the soldier who’d turned her loose. He doesn’t move, but continues to stand idly by, allowing her to pass on to the ship behind me. When I near Kyon, he raises his fingers and snaps them. A soldier hands him a long, white coat with a white fur collar and white fur cuffs.
The wind stirs the fur as I pause in front of him. Kyon drapes the coat around my shoulders and takes me in his arms, hugging me to him. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear.
I say nothing, already cowed by the events that are unfolding.
“Come.” Kyon is gentle as he shifts his arm to my shoulder and guides me at an unhurried pace to the stairs of the sublime trift. As we board, the falconlike ship behind me fires up its engines. The sound is an anchor in my gut, weighing me down to the ocean floor as it sails away without me aboard.
Kyon leads me to an elegant, yet still extremely comfortable, white leather seat. It’s part of a cluster of four seats: two on either side of a low, chrome table. He holds my elbow until I sink onto the seat, and then he sheds his coat before taking the seat next to mine. No one else enters this private compartment; we’re alone for the first time since he killed Geteron.
The trift’s engines hum to life, I feel the slight vibration of the ship beneath me. “Would you like me to take your coat?” he asks.
“No,” I pull the edges closer to me. “I’m cold.”
He doesn’t argue. Instead he says, “On screen.”
When a holographic screen pops up, Kyon orders from a menu. As the screen fades away, an ice bucket containing a beautiful golden bottle emerges from the center of the table along with two long, fluted glasses. A platter of sumptuous sandwiches, fruits, and cheeses appears as well.
“Would you like a drink?” Kyon asks with a charming lift of his blond eyebrow. His blue eyes regard me with speculation.
I nod. “Please.”
He opens the golden bottle with a pop, pouring the bubbling, golden concoction into the stemware. When he hands it to me, his fingers brush mine. They’re warm, so much warmer than mine. I take the glass and drink. It’s lovely and fruity and definitely intoxicating. I tip my head back and drink it all before holding my glass out for a refill.
Kyon frowns. “Do you intend to get drunk? It’s not like you to willingly give up control.” Without a word, I continue to hold my glass out to him, demanding more. He obliges me by refilling it. I tip the glass to my lips once more. Kyon asks, “Did they kill him? Your Cavar, Trey?”
I choke on my drink, swallowing hard. I cough and sputter as tears roll down my face. A large hand rubs my back. When I’m able to breathe normally again, he wipes the tears from my dirty face with his thumbs.
“It’s okay. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here to take care of you. I will teach you what you need to know. I will train you to obey us.” Frowning, I look away from him, moving my face with a jerk so that his hands fall from my cheeks.