Free Under Different Stars by Amy A. Bartol

ask. “Someone needs to give me a really good explanation for why I have to move from here after I literally almost drowned a few minutes ago.”
    “No one owns this territory—or everyone does, depends on how you look at it,” Jax explains.
    “It belongs to every Etharian, but no one can alter it or attempt to annex it. It’s protected land,” Trey says.
    “So, basically, don’t try to build a summer home here because you’ll never get a building permit?” I ask.
    “Not only can you not build, you can’t employ a vehicle on this land or in its airspace,” Wayra expounds.
    “So…no limo?” I ask.
    “No roads, Kricket.” Trey’s tone is soft as he rubs my arms, like he’s trying to improve my circulation.
    “How large is this territory?” I ask.
    “Hmmm…” Jax scratches his chin. “About the size of South America, wouldn’t you say, Trey?” he speculates. Trey nods.
    “So, we’re supposed to walk across South America?” I ask.
    “NO!” Jax exhales, holding both hands out to me, like he wants to stop me before I freak out. “We’re not too far from the borderlands of Rafe territory. We’re really close to the Comantre clan, too.”
    “Too close,” Wayra adds, looking tense.
    “The way you’re all acting…it’s like we’re in danger or something.” My voice sounds hollow. I watch them look at each other.
    “We’re not in danger, exactly,” Jax replies. “It’s more like we’re not very comfortable with our current position.”
    “Oh,” I reply nervously, glancing around. Trey sits forward, easing me off his lap. He stands up quickly and dons a pair of sleek, dark, utilitarian-style pants and a shirt that doesn’t hide just how perfect his physique really is.
    After fastening his belt, Trey flips open a small panel on the thigh to reveal a tiny row of buttons. Pressing one a few times, the fabric of his pants changes from dark shades of brown, to camouflage, to white, to sand, to a watery-pattern that looks like actual water wavering on his body. Selecting a chameleon setting, the pants begin to blend in with his surroundings, taking on the shades and shapes of whatever is nearby. He does the same with a panel hidden in the lining of his shirt, and then he looks up, eyeing me critically.
    I self-consciously put my hand to my hair, running my fingers through it to try to smooth out the tangles. “Did we bring anything for Kricket to wear?” Trey asks Wayra.
    “Uh, no. She’s a prisoner. I didn’t think it mattered,” Wayra says. Trey frowns at Wayra before he glances back at me. I stiffen, hearing just how insignificant I am to them.
    Jax nudges my arm, trying to make me take another bite of my bark bar. “Eat that and I’ll give you this,” he says, holding up a small leaf in his palm.
    “What’s that?” I ask suspiciously.
    “It will refortify your enamel and take away the taste of…cat poop,” he says, trying not to crack up.
    “So, it’s good for my teeth?” I ask for clarification.
    Jax nods, putting on his clothes that are just like Trey’s. Feeling pissy now, I shove the whole bar in my mouth at once, trying really hard not to gag on it. I need to remain strong if I’m going to find a way to get away from these tools and get back home. Reaching for the canteen, I swallow several mouthfuls of water. Afterward, I hold out my hand for the leaf Jax had promised. Popping it into my mouth, the taste of mint quickly dispels the awful aftertaste.
    A terrifying shriek emits from beyond the basin, echoing off the rocks and making every hair on my body stand on end. Bolting to my feet, my eyes the size of saucers, I whisper, “What was that?”
    Before anyone can answer me, a deeper, more gut-churning roar sounds, on the same side where the shriek sounded.
    “Ready, Kricket?” Trey asks, reaching his hand out to me grimly.
    I stumble toward his hand, taking it like a lifeline. “Let’s go!” I reply. Taking his duffle he drops my hand for a moment, threads