“Do you believe me?” Trey asks.
“You’re telling the truth.”
He gives me a sidelong-look. “That’s an odd thing to say. How do you know I’m telling the truth?”
I shrug. “I just know.” I lower my eyes from his as I drop my chin.
“Well, if you just know, then you can stop worrying.”
“Right,” I mutter and suppress the impulse to roll my eyes. “Just because you think they won’t torture me, doesn’t mean they won’t. So for now, I’m safer with you.”
Trey pauses and frowns. “Why do you think they’d torture you?”
“I met Kyon. I know the look,” I reply, not sure why I’m being so honest with him.
“What look?” His jaw grows perceptibly tighter.
My eyes shy away from his. “The look of someone who sees me as a means to an end.”
“Have you encountered that look often?” he asks in a quiet way. His expression is unreadable.
“Often enough.”
“And I don’t have that look?”
“No. You’re indifferent; that makes you safer. You have no need to lie to me.”
“How do you know that?” he asks while holding back a tree branch for me as we move on.
I bite my lower lip before I reply absently. “You’ve always been honest with me.” I watch the sky. “You don’t want anything from me except my cooperation so you can do your job and get rid of me. You don’t even care if I know it. That makes you very different from Kyon. The first thing that Kyon did when we met was lie.”
“Sir, check this out,” Jax says ahead of us. Peering into a dark cave, it’s partially shrouded by winding vines and vegetation.
Dropping his gear, Trey rummages through his bag, pulling out a small case. He flips it open and quickly assembles a wicked-looking crossbow with metal tipped projectiles that resemble notched, elongated spikes. He extracts a very sexy pair of sunglasses from the case. As he puts them on, he orders, “Wait here.”
“You’re wearing sunglasses into a dark cave?” I ask with a skeptical expression.
“They’re night-vision.”
“Why didn’t you use those in the cave on Earth?” I ask, thinking the headlamps are ridiculous if you have tres chic night vision.
“Because there are very specific rules for using our technology while on Earth.” He hoists the crossbow up.
“Do you always follow the rules?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh, you’re a boy scout.”
“I’m not a boy. I’m an adult.”
“Good for you. Where are you going, old man?” I ask, not at all sure why I feel so anxious about him leaving me.
“I’m going to investigate this cave—make sure the only saer in it is you,” he replies, and Jax laughs.
“Good luck, don’t get eaten—or do, whichever,” I reply sarcastically, but my heart is pounding in my chest because he’s going in there alone. Trey smirks before walking cautiously into the cave. Jax efficiently assembles his crossbow, raising it quickly and aiming it as Wayra steps through the break in the trees.
“It’s me,” Wayra says in a low tone, watching Jax lower the weapon.
“Did they shadow you?”
“My shadow didn’t even shadow me.”
“Crystal,” Jax says, tossing the crossbow to Wayra. He rummages through his bag again, coming up with two pairs of sunglasses and handing one to me.
“Where’s my crossbow?”
“What?” Jax smiles his crooked smile.
“My weapon?”
“You want a recurve?” he asks, while assembling another crossbow.
“Crossbow, recurve, whatever you call it. Do I get a weapon?”
“No,” Jax replies, smiling at Wayra and nodding toward me, like he thinks I’m adorable.
“Why not?” I put my hands on my hips.
“I can think of a few reasons: you’re a female, you’re not trained to use it, you’re our ward, I don’t want to be shot, and if you end up killing Kyon, we’ll be laughed out of the Cavars,” Jax replies, grinning.
“What does my being a female have anything to do with it?”
“You’re small and weak,” he replies, like he’s never heard of the feminist movement.
My mouth hangs open for a moment before I snap it shut. “I’m not small,” I say between my teeth.
“You’re tiny,” Jax counters.
“Runt,” Wayra agrees.
“I’m five foot ten.”
“See, you’re not even a link,” Jax states.
“What’s a link?” I ask, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead.
“About six feet,” he replies. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s polar to be a female your size—absolutely polar—”
“Positively polar,” Wayra agrees.
“Polar?” I growl.
“Attractive…alluring…” Jax says, thinking.
“Sexy?” I ask, feeling heat in my cheeks.
Nodding adamantly, Wayra agrees, “Sexy. Polar.”
Continuing to assemble his weapon, Jax smiles. “But you’re deceptively strong. It must be because you’re used to more gravity. Your muscles are stronger. You can run farther with more endurance than the average female on Ethar.”
“Is that it?” Wayra asks Jax. “I was wondering. She was keeping up with us for so long, I couldn’t figure it out.”
“If I promise not to shoot you, will you give me a recurve?” I ask again, getting back to them arming me so I can defend myself.
“No,” they both say in unison.
“Clear,” Trey says, emerging from the mouth of the cave, startling me. “Gather the gear.” Looking at me, Trey says, “Good, you have glasses. Let’s go.” Grasping me by the elbow, he leads me deep into the cave to a rounded out cavern where he instructs Wayra and Jax to drop the gear.
Taking out a bedroll, Trey hands it to me, saying, “Here, try to get some sleep. We’re staying here until it gets dark. Then, we’ll head west.” I nod, spreading out the blanket. Lying down on the hard ground, every little sound makes my eyes fly open. When Wayra comes back from his patrol to report that the E-One and ALV have headed north, I see them all visibly relax. My eyes droop then, and even though I’m freaked, I’m also completely exhausted, so I sleep.
**
Waking up, Jax smiles at me from across the small fire, asking, “Kricket, are you hungry?”
I sit, stretching my sore muscles. “I’m starving,” I admit.
Jax hands me a wrapped package. It’s another small pie, but this one tastes like eggs. “It’s quiche,” he says, helpfully.
“It’s good. Thanks,” I murmur, taking another bite. Trey watches me eat. “How long did I sleep?”
“About six parts-and before you ask, a part is roughly an hour,” Trey replies. “But, we still have a few parts before we can leave.”
“Okay.” I finish my food. “Any sign of the knob knockers?” I see Trey cringe, while Wayra smothers a laugh.
“Kricket, ‘knob knockers’ is not proper language for a young female, such as yourself,” Trey says, sounding old. “And no, they continued north.”