I don’t know how to respond to that, so I change the subject by saying, “You’re kind of amazing at driving a hovercycle. Do you think you can teach me how sometime?”
His violet-colored eyes soften. “I’ll teach you how to fly anything you want.”
“I think that’s my job,” Trey says as he enters the kitchen and stands next to me.
“Is it?” I ask him with a raise of an eyebrow. “I didn’t want to overload you with too many tasks. You already have to teach me how to swim and climb enormous trees. I was just trying to lighten your load.”
He puts his arm around my waist, drawing me to his side possessively. Smiling in a predatory way, he murmurs, “You’re my intended consort. It’s my pleasure.”
I silently finish his sentence: And no one else’s.
“Well, you’ll have your work cut out for you then, won’t you, because I’ve never driven anything before. I never had a bike, or a scooter, or a car,” I reply. Gibon chokes on his liquor, coughing as he looks from me to Trey incredulously.
Trey shrugs and says, “She’s from Chicago.”
Gibon wipes his arm on his sleeve. “So I’ve heard. I just never—you’ve never even driven a flipcart?” he asks, as if it would be a crime not to have done so.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I reply honestly, taking a larger sip of my drink and paying for it with a wheeze.
Jax approaches our little party. He hands ration packs to Trey. “Here, you might want to take a couple of these. We’re packing up the rest. Are you hungry, Kricket?” he asks me.
The alcohol is making me feel light-headed. It’s not unpleasant; in fact, it’s kind of nice. I look toward the bottle. “I think I want some more of that.”
“Negative,” Trey says right away, taking my empty glass from me. “You’ve recently been dehydrated and malnourished. You need food. Come with me.”
Trey leads me to a formal dining area. I sit in a chair that he holds out for me. He brings us both a plate and sits right beside me. Breaking open the ration packs, he unloads the fare onto both plates. As we begin to eat together quietly, Drex approaches us. He stops in front of me, laying down a package of cocoa-covered wafers tied with a ruby-colored ribbon in front of my plate. He also lays down a large, shiny metal object that looks suspiciously like brass knuckles. With a respectful nod to Trey, Drex moves away from the table. I stop chewing in confusion.
Hollis approaches the table next. He smiles at me as he sets a bottle of fazaria, Manus’s favorite after-dinner drink, in front of me. Along with the bottle, he leaves a wicked-looking clawlike implement that appears to be made to disembowel something. Gibon follows with several pieces of fresh fruit and a simple-looking short jade club. Fenton continues the line with an assortment of candies that he leaves amid the other gifts, as well as a small weapon that would fit in the palm of my hand. I think the proper name for it on Earth is a katar, but I have no idea what they call it here.
When Wayra sets a freeze-wrapped petite venish in front of me, I have trouble keeping my mouth from falling open. He also rests a small knife on the table. “I’ll teach you how to use it later.” I nod to him in acknowledgment. He moves aside and lets Jax through. Jax gives me their version of chocolate, called hohoban; it’s in the shape of flower petals. He also leaves me two sharp metal implements that resemble deadly chopsticks.
With both my eyebrows raised in surprise, I murmur, “These are for me, I assume.”
Grinning, they all nod and talk at once in what I gather are affirmative answers.
When they quiet, I murmur, “Thank you, guys, but I didn’t get you anything.” I look at Trey, who’s trying really hard not to laugh.
The Cavars, however, laugh at me like I’m an adorable idiot. Drex pipes up, “We’re not the ones who just agreed to commit to our gennet, so it wouldn’t be proper to give us a gift in return.”
Hollis explains, “The treats are to honor your announcement to commit to a lifetime of submitting to his will. We know what that’s like. You have our deepest condolences!” They all roar at that, like it’s the funniest thing imaginable.
“The weapons are a tribute because you saved our lives,” Jax explains.
Trey takes my left hand in his, turning it over so that my palm faces down. He encircles my wrist with an intricately scrolled silver armband. The armband immediately shrinks in size from what was clearly a male fit to a feminine size. After he touches the crest in the middle of the thick bracelet, a wicked-looking, sharp-pointed silver star emerges from within the bracelet; it’s magnetized to its cradle of metal, waiting to be touched and used. “Before I was able to locate you on the skywalk, I had to retrieve my spare wrist communicator from my room. I managed to get that as well while I was there. It belonged to my father; he gave it to me when I went to war the last time. Now I give it to you as payment for my life.” Trey takes the star from the top of the bracelet. “It’s a starcross.” He holds it up for me to see. I recognize it. Kyon has something similar to it that he used to kill Geteron in the interrogation room on the Ship of Skye. The star is like a boomerang; it returns to the bracelet after it’s thrown.