An icy dawn rose over Vysanthe, cold light glancing in through the narrow slats that served as windows. I awoke, smiling at the blanket of wings that enveloped me, only to jolt a moment later at the sight of Aurelius standing at the foot of the bed.

“The queen wishes to see you in her garden,” he announced, at least having the decency to avert his gaze. I shuddered as I wondered how long he’d been standing there, watching us sleep.

Navan stirred, sitting bolt upright when his eyes settled on Aurelius. “Ever heard of knocking?” he growled, running a weary hand through his hair.

“I’ll wait outside while you make yourself presentable,” Aurelius said crisply, before turning and heading out the door.

Standing, Navan folded away his wings, before pulling on the black t-shirt he had cast aside the night before. I was still fully dressed, though sleeping in the clothes from the ship had left me feeling dirty and uncomfortable. Walking over to the wardrobe that stood beside the twin beds, I opened it and took a look inside.

The clothes weren’t quite in keeping with human fashion, but they weren’t that much different than what I was used to. I picked out a cream-colored sweater, made from the softest material I had ever felt, hastily took off the t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it on. I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be made from—spun material from the backside of some savage, fanged creature, maybe? Pushing the thought away, I looked down at myself, liking the way the sweater looked. The jeans would have to wait, but even a fresh top made me feel better—less sticky and gross, at least.

“You should grab a jacket, too,” Navan suggested, coming over to pick out a huge furry coat. He draped it around my shoulders, and I pulled a face. It looked like there was a dead animal hanging on my back—which, I supposed, there was. Only, from the limp fur and strange flaps that looked like ears, it seemed like it had been killed mere seconds ago.

“I can’t wear this,” I said sadly, realizing the remnants of a fluffy tail were hanging down one lapel.

Navan shrugged. “It’s either this, or you freeze.”

Not exactly thrilled with my new attire, I kept it on as we left our quarters and followed Aurelius to the same elevator we had used the previous day. This time, however, the elevator didn’t seem to go down, as I’d expected. Instead, it zipped horizontally, the force still brutal against my human skin.

It stopped abruptly, causing me to stumble forward. Navan caught me by the waist, his reflexes sharp.

“Everything’s so much more violent here,” I breathed, regaining my composure, knowing I hadn’t seen the half of it.

“You’re not wrong,” he muttered.

The doors of the elevator slid open onto a wide, open courtyard, a blast of biting wind gusting in, nipping at my cheeks. Instantly, I felt glad to have the furry coat, which was keeping out most of the icy wind. Not all, but most. At least I wouldn’t be a shivering wreck when I was brought before the queen this time.

The courtyard itself was empty, save for a bare, skeletal tree that rose up in the center, its bark a jet black, streaked through with veins of pure white. It was strangely beautiful, its clawed branches curving skyward. Overhead, the sky itself was a silvery gray, with deep purple clouds swirling menacingly in wispy clusters. In the air, I could smell the metallic scent of ozone, like the atmosphere before a storm. I wondered if the scent, so close to the tang of blood, was always there.

We hurried after Aurelius, who was walking remarkably quickly. Passing through the courtyard, we reached a covered walkway that reminded me of church cloisters, the stonework a gleaming gray marble. Nothing grew here, except the odd twisting vine bearing the petals of a black flower or two, or bunches of vibrant red berries. Against the biting wind and the grim weather, I was surprised that even they had found the audacity to flourish here.

Before long, we reached a tall set of stone doors, embedded within a large building that looked somewhat cathedral-like in its grandeur, stained-glass windows glinting in the white sunlight. At the entrance, two guards wielded spears; their faces were streaked black and red, as the Impalers’ had been. They nodded to Aurelius, saying nothing to Navan and me as the wizened old man, his half-wing dangling down limply, ushered us inside.

Beyond the vast doors lay a botanical garden, and the scent of unusual and exotic blooms bombarded my nostrils. A fine spray of water jetted out from the sides of the stone walls every few minutes, the mist floating down to rest on the flowers beneath.

Everything about Vysanthe felt gloomy and cold, but not this place. Here, there were flowers and bushes and trees of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I noticed a rosebush nearby, harboring the most beautiful rusty-orange roses I had ever seen, though the sight of them threw me for a second—how did they come to have roses on Vysanthe? Did they grow elsewhere in the universe? Apparently so…

Queen Gianne was standing at the far end of the gigantic space, tending to a tree that bore a lurid blue fruit on its branches. Her copper hair was tied up out of her face, her silver eyes focused on the task at hand. She was collecting a small basketful of the fruits, effortlessly reaching up to pluck them off.

She turned as we approached, still holding her basket of blue fruit. “Ambrosia?” she asked, turning one around in her elegant hand, before extending it out to Navan.

Navan shook his head. “Solid food doesn’t sit well with me, Your Highness,” he said apologetically.

“Well then, perhaps your little pet might like a taste?” She smiled coldly, her eyes snapping toward me.

Again, Navan shook his head. “I don’t think her weak metabolism could take such rich flavor, Your Highness.”

I struggled not to turn to him to ask if it was okay to try. On a planet like Vysanthe, where everyone drank blood, I was going to have to eat at some point. My stomach was already rumbling, the sight of the blue fruit making my mouth water. Back at the Asterope, we still had the sachets of astronaut food, provided the guards hadn’t removed it, but I had no idea how far the Asterope was from here.

“She looks eager, does she not?” Queen Gianne remarked, coming up to me, offering the blue fruit. “Go on, have a taste.”

I didn’t feel as though I could say no. Navan might get away with refusing an offer from the queen, but an underling like me certainly couldn’t. I took the fruit from her, eyeing it closely. It looked like a small apple, though the skin was dappled with light and dark blue.

“Bite it,” Queen Gianne said.

For a moment, I felt like Snow White holding the poison apple in her hands. I could feel the burning glare of Navan beside me, but I didn’t dare look at him. Keeping my gaze low, I bit into the fruit, feeling the juice run down my chin. Flavor burst into my mouth, awakening every sense like a firecracker going off in my head. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted, half sweet, half sour, the flavor vaguely similar to cream soda.

I went to take another bite, but the queen knocked it out of my hand. The barely eaten fruit rolled away across the polished flagstones, leaving a trail of blue juice on the ground.

“Enough now,” she purred. “A taste is enough, for the likes of you.”

“You are too kind, Your Highness,” I whispered, though my insides were twisted with anger and embarrassment.

She sneered. “You boys love your meek little creatures, don’t you? A pathetic specimen that won’t fight back. Shame you miss out on the fire of a real, strong female,” she mused, turning her gaze back to Navan. “And how are we this morning, Navan? I trust you slept well? It must feel good to be back on home turf again?”

“Oh, it’s always good to be home,” Navan lied. “And the room you provided was more than generous, Your Highness. I must thank you for your excellent hospitality.”

“Glad to hear it—it’s a pleasure to have my finest subjects back in the fold,” she said, turning back to the ambrosia tree. “Oh, and you’ll be pleased to know that your comrades have proven themselves to be honest, worthy citizens…” She flashed Navan a look over her shoulder. “I have released them.”

When the queen turned her back again, I looked at Navan, and together, we breathed a sigh of relief. Our team was safe, free to meet up with us in Vysanthe, so we could get this mission over and done with. The pod with my blood in it was perpetually making its way toward Vysanthe—a ticking time bomb looming above us. If we were quick, there was still more than enough time to intercept it.

“Your benevolence knows no bounds, Your Highness,” Navan said.

“I am always willing to forgive, when the mood takes me,” Queen Gianne remarked. “Your friends were fortunate that I was feeling generous. I think, perhaps, the sight of the fabled Navan Idrax had something to do with it.” She winked, turning my stomach.

Navan smiled tightly. “You are too kind, Your Highness.”

“Nonsense! Your father has been my most trusted advisor for as long as I can remember, and that deserves a slice of magnanimity,” she replied, flicking her wrist. “The wanderer has returned. Your father is very pleased to have you back—I think he has grand ideas in store for you, Navan.” She chuckled, flashing him a knowing look that only served to confuse the hell out of me. Did she know something I didn’t?

Navan sighed. “You are all too kind, Your Highness,” he repeated, somewhat emptily.

“Indeed! So kind that I am throwing a great celebration in your honor tomorrow,” she stated, and Navan’s face fell. “It shall be a celebration of lost souls returning to the light. A salutation to my position as queen, and how I shall be the one to bring salvation to the rebels, returning them to my queendom.”

Navan grimaced, though he was careful not to let Queen Gianne see. “I look forward to it, Your Highness. Might I be permitted to bring my slave along with me?” he asked, not looking at me.

A sour look crossed the queen’s face. “If you must, though she won’t sit at the table with the rest of us. She can stand and beg for scraps, like the bottom-feeder she is.”

I wanted to smack the self-righteous look off Queen Gianne’s face, but I held myself together, keeping my chin to my chest, my cheeks flushing red with fury. I would not rise to her taunts. Not here, not with so much at stake.

Navan nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“In the meantime, I’m sure you’re itching to get back to your family in Plentha,” Queen Gianne said. “I’ve had a Snapper brought around to the front of the gardens, so you may travel across Vysanthe at your leisure, reminding yourself of its beauty. Though, I should warn you not to stray too far. It should be waiting in the courtyard as you exit.”

Returning to her task of picking the blue ambrosia fruit, she made it clear the conversation was over. Navan and I turned away from her and walked out of the strange cathedral-like garden, through the marble cloisters, and back into the stark courtyard.

There, sitting on the flagstones, was a small silver ship. It looked compact, big enough to fit two comfortably, with metal panels that curved over the front and a beacon flashing at the top, just over the windscreen. It reminded me of a deep-sea lantern-fish, the panels sharpening to points across the front screen and resembling biting jaws.

“This is a ‘Snapper’?” I asked Navan, who seemed calmer now that we were away from the queen.

He nodded. “See those teeth? They give it the nickname,” he explained. “They serve a purpose, though. Air flows up through the curved teeth, creating a barrier that keeps the rain off the windscreen. We get a lot of rain here; you’ll probably see for yourself, soon enough.”

Taking my hand in his, he led me to the back door of the Snapper and pulled a lever that opened a narrow door. As I stepped inside, I saw that the vessel was just one slightly oval pod, with two seats at the front, next to the command module.

Sitting down in the one that didn’t have a load of buttons and levers in front of it, I let Navan take the pilot’s seat. With the flick of a switch, he brought the Snapper to life, the engine thrumming softly. A look of excitement flickered across his face—an expression I hadn’t expected to see.

With a grin, he turned to me. “Allow me to show you the sights, m’lady.”