Jaxen announced, “I understand that on Earth it’s typical to offer a choice when delivering both good and bad news. So, which would you like to hear first?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“The good news.” Cara always wanted the good news first. It tempered the bad, though if the Elders had decided to make Aelyx pay with his life, there’d be no softening that.
She tugged Aelyx’s bicep so he’d stand beside her. If she understood correctly, he wasn’t supposed to sit in the presence of an Elder—even if they were the same age. Jaxen seemed like a nice guy, but why tempt fate?
“Please,” she added.
“Certainly.” Jaxen leaned against the podium and crossed one foot over the other. “I’m happy to tell you The Way will continue alliance negotiations.”
Interesting choice of words. He hadn’t said The Way would give Earth the technology to decontaminate the water supply, only that they’d negotiate, which involved give and take. She didn’t want to imagine what kinds of concessions her people would have to make in the deal.
“And the bad news?” She backed against Aelyx’s body and pulled both his arms around her waist. He hugged her tightly, and she covered his hands with hers, bolting them in place. If his leaders had decided to execute him, they’d have to take her, too.
Jaxen turned his gaze on Aelyx and held it there. “Both you and Syrine will be punished for what you’ve done, a consequence harsher than the iphet but less unpleasant than death.” His lips twitched in a grin as if he’d amused himself. “I convinced the others to let the punishment fit the crime. Since you worked so hard to destroy the alliance, we’re sending you back to Earth to help repair it. You’ll have to admit to humans what you’ve done and find a way to earn their forgiveness.”
That didn’t sound so bad.
Jaxen nodded at her and continued. “But Miss Sweeney will return with me to L’eihr, followed by the other two human exchange students.”
Cara felt her eyes widen. “But,” she objected, “I haven’t graduated yet.” And I don’t want to go without Aelyx. She kept the last bit to herself, hesitant to rock the boat—or spaceship, as it were. “Why don’t you send me back to Earth? Then I can help get more people onboard with the alliance . . . maybe even recruit colonists.”
Jaxen grinned. “Persuasive as you are, I’m sure you’d be an asset to Aelyx and Syrine. But completing the exchange now is a show of good faith—a sign that humans trust your safety on L’eihr as we trusted Eron’s safety on Earth.”
Translation: you’re a walking insurance policy. She felt Aelyx tense behind her. He asked, “How long until I can come home and join Cara?”
“As long as it takes,” Jaxen said simply. He studied Aelyx for a few silent seconds before his voice turned smooth and teasing, like they were old friends. “Don’t worry, Aelyx. I’ll take good care of your l’ihan while you’re gone.”
Aelyx didn’t say a word, but the tremor rolling through his rigid muscles spoke volumes. Clearly they weren’t friends at all.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Jaxen stepped toward her wearing a disarming smile. He pressed two fingers against the side of her neck in the standard good-bye, then yanked his hand away and strode briskly from the room.
She spun to face Aelyx, melding their bodies together. “Well, that could’ve gone better. But it could’ve gone a lot worse, too.”
Ignoring her sentiment, Aelyx rubbed a thumb over her throat as if to erase Jaxen’s touch.
“It’s not so bad,” she insisted, trailing one finger along the smooth edge of his jaw. “Think about it. If we were still on Earth, you’d go home in the spring, and I wouldn’t be able to see you again till the fall semester. This way is better.” She kissed the triangle of skin above his shirt collar and breathed him in. “It’ll go by fast. Then we’ll have all the time in the world.”
“Mmm.” He slipped his thumbs beneath the front of her tunic and captured her waist in his palms. “That is something to look forward to.”
“And we still have a little time before you leave.” Which she intended to make the most of, starting now. “I don’t want to spend any more of it in this room.”
“Hey,” Troy said, “you know what’d be really awesome, Alex?”
Cara plopped onto her bed and stretched out, surrendering to a sudden yawn attack. “His name’s Aelyx.”
“Whatever.” Troy rolled his eyes and went back to snooping through her cabinet, which someone had stocked with clean uniforms, toiletries, and silvery gadgets she didn’t know how to use. When he stumbled across a small white packet, he whispered, “Score!” then tore it open and started eating the contents.
Patiently enduring her brother’s assholery, Aelyx smiled and joined her. He pulled her into a chaste cuddle. “What’d be really awesome?”
“If you stopped touching my sister.”
Cara couldn’t help laughing at that. After hightailing it across the globe when she needed him most, then disappearing to another galaxy and never e-mailing, Troy thought he could suddenly resume his role as the protective big brother? “Bite me,” she told him with a single-finger salute.
“I’m serious, Pepper. It’s grossing me out.” He shook a metal golf ball at her, identical to the one Tori had found in Aelyx’s underwear drawer all those months ago. “And maybe you can forget what he did, but I can’t.”
“That’s how forgiveness works, nimrod.” Cara nestled her cheek into a magical spot between Aelyx’s chest and shoulder that seemed custom-made for her face. “Kind of like when your brother ditches you for two years, and you keep loving him anyway.”
That shut him up for a few minutes.
While Troy continued perusing her things, the steady rise and fall of Aelyx’s chest and his fingertips stroking her hair lulled her into a trance. She was just drifting to sleep when an obnoxious buzz filled the room. She waited for it to stop, thinking maybe this was the L’eihr equivalent of an alarm clock, but it kept getting louder.
With a groan, she pushed to sitting. “What’s that?”
Aelyx raised one brow and darted a quick glance around the room. “What’s what?”
“Um, the annoying buzz that’s rattling my skull?” She turned to Troy. “You don’t hear it?”
Troy shook his head and smirked, probably gearing up to make a snide remark, when he suddenly said, “Oh,” and gave a slow nod. “Does it seem like someone shoved a beehive up your nose?”
“Yeah.” It kind of did.
“That’s your com-sphere,” Aelyx said, laughing. “You’re the only one who can hear it.”
Troy tossed her the metal golf ball.
“Say your name,” Aelyx told her. “That’s always the default password. You’ll have to reset it later.”
She closed her fingers loosely around the vibrating metal and brought her hand to her lips as if playing an imaginary trumpet. “Cara Sweeney.” Instantly, the humming stopped, and the sphere quit tickling her palm.
“Now set it down.” Aelyx patted a spot on the bed.
She obeyed and backed up a few paces, just in case. Then her jaw dropped and she glanced back and forth between Aelyx and Troy for confirmation that she wasn’t tripping on some weird alien drug. On a scale of one to ten—one being normal and ten being whompass crazy—seeing Mom and Dad flash to life in miniature form right beside her pillow rated a twenty.
“They were cleaning out Aelyx’s room and found his sphere,” Troy said. “I had it reset so they could use it.”
“So they’re real?” She knelt on the floor and gripped her mattress, leaning in to study her tiny parents the way she’d scrutinized bacteria under a microscope in science lab. If she squinted, she could barely make out the living room sofa’s tacky magnolia pattern.