Giffen’s lips twist. He almost looks jealous. “Why? What does he want to know about you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Given our history, the only thing I expect from Kyon is pain.” Giffen’s frown deepens, causing me to say, “You don’t think I’m right.”
“He didn’t hand you over to Excelsior. He kept you instead.”
“Maybe Kyon wants something from Excelsior in exchange for me and is just waiting to raise the stakes.”
“Or maybe you’re what he wants,” Giffen retorts.
“You believe that,” I whisper softly.
“He could’ve demanded anything in exchange for you and it would’ve been granted by his father. He didn’t do that.”
“I think you’re wrong. They hate each other with the kind of loathing I’ve only seen in bad foster homes,” I murmur thoughtfully. “Kyon may not have given me up just because it’s Excelsior who wants me.”
He shakes his head again. “It’s more than bad blood, Kricket. Kyon has a plan in place. I need you to find out what it is.”
“You’re not taking me back with you?” Something inside me squeezes tight. I think it’s my bloodless heart, but I’m not sure because my entire chest aches.
“You’re valuable to us here—with Kyon. You can get close to him; find out what he knows about what the Brotherhood is planning. Win his trust. Stay valuable to us and you stay alive. Should that change . . .”
“What? You’ll kill me?” I ask, even knowing that his threat was implicit. “My father would let you do that?”
“This is bigger than any of us. This is the fate of Ethar. I know you don’t care about that—how could you—deep down, you still think you’re from Earth.”
“Whose fault is that?” I ask.
Giffen comes to stand just beneath me. “Be our eyes, Kricket, and you’ll survive this.” He lets me fall from the pillar, catching me in his arms. As my feet slide to the ground, he pulls me against his strong chest, holding me steady. My cheek rests briefly against the soft fabric of his uniform. I inhale his scent. A memory flashes in my mind—Chicago in autumn—my face resting against fallen leaves—an unbelievable ache in my chest—that smell—his smell—his voice saying, “You’ll be okay. I’m going to make you okay, just hang on—”
Giffen disrupts the images by saying, “I have to go. Your father wanted me to give you a message when I saw you.”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.” I try to push away from him, but he won’t let me.
Giffen strokes his hand over my hair. “He told me to tell you, ‘The future is what you make it.’” I let go of Giffen entirely, but he continues to hold me to him.
“Did he steal that from a cat poster or something?” I ask scornfully.
Giffen grasps my upper arms and pulls me away from his chest so he can look into my eyes. “What? No! It was heartfelt.”
“Okay, you’ve delivered your message. Now let go of me.” He immediately turns me loose. Distancing myself from him, I stare out over the far away Sea of Stars. “You can go now.”
“Is there something you want me to tell Pan in return?” Giffen asks in a strained voice.
“No.”
“This is not how your father wants things—”
“But this is how things are,” I reply bitterly. I turn around sharply, glaring at him. “Just go! I want you to leave!”
He reaches out to me, gathering my hair in his fist. “I hurt you.” His other hand clutches my chin. He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. A smear of blood shows on his skin. “Let me cut your hair so it stops bleeding.”
“You’re so bad at this!” I try to brush his hand away from my hair, but he holds it tighter.
“What do you mean?” he asks defensively. His eyebrows come together in a scowl.
“You can’t threaten to kill me, and then care about my bloody lip—and you honestly mean both! Which is totally schizo!”
He pulls out a knife and cuts my hair without a word. Letting the ashes of it fall from his fingers, he turns away from me and says over his shoulder, “Find out what Kyon is planning. I’ll be in touch.” His hand reaches for the silver box on his belt. An instant after that, he disappears from my sight, becoming invisible.
I don’t move right away. Even after the sound of his footfalls die away, I just stand where I am like a complete idiot. Finally, I take a step to leave, but I stop. I look around. I don’t know where I’m going—back to Kyon’s house? Why would I do that? I should be trying to find a way off this island . . . but then what? Where would I go? Amster? I’m not welcome there—and that’s if I made it, which I probably wouldn’t.