The following morning, rested and refreshed, we set out for Mount Kusuburi to rendezvous with Cambien. Navan had run back to the Vanquish just after dawn to pick up weapons for the job we had to do today, returning with two guns and a knife. He tried to hide them from me, no doubt wondering if they’d trigger my memories of the previous day, but there was only so much he could do to keep them out of my sight.

As we walked, I could feel the worried eyes of my friends on me, most likely thanks to the dark circles under my eyes. After talking with Navan, I’d felt much better, but I still hadn’t slept very well. It was just as he’d warned. All through the night, I’d jolted awake to the memory of what I’d done, only settling once Navan’s arms wrapped around me, his soothing voice whispering me back to sleep. Just having him there was helping some of the numbness and anguish fade away, returning me to a more normal version of myself. I’d never be exactly the same again, but I was more Riley than zombie today, thanks to his care through the night.

“How were the hot springs?” I asked, desperately wanting to break the uneasy silence that stretched across the group.

Angie smiled, flashing a conspiratorial look at Bashrik. “Steamy.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “A little too steamy. I was glad my glasses kept fogging up.”

“Bash?” Navan remarked expectantly, his brother surprisingly tight-lipped on the matter.

“It is Draconian law to uphold a woman’s honor. I’m not sure all this suggestive talk is appropriate. I behaved like a perfect gentleman,” he insisted, at last, prompting my two best friends to collapse into raucous laughter. It was like a storm breaking after days of heavy, humid skies, full of the prospect of rain. It felt good to smile.

Angie slipped her arm through Bashrik’s. “We’re just teasing you. You were too gentlemanly, if you ask me,” she said with a wink.

The lighter atmosphere remained as we paused by the edge of the valley, where the Draconians were still dutifully hauling enormous slabs of metal and crates of supplies into the biremes. It made me wonder if Freya had any faith in us at all, considering they were still making preparations for a departure we’d promised they wouldn’t have to endure. Even the near destruction of their holy site hadn’t halted them for long, presumably by Freya’s orders.

“How are you feeling about the opaleine reversal?” I asked Bashrik, wondering which way his moral compass was turning, given his newly imagined ties to Zai and the Draconian way of life. If he was upholding their rules on restrained propriety, I could only imagine his thoughts on killing a group of living beings.

Bashrik frowned. “If our gracious commander, the glorious Cambien, has permitted it, then who am I to argue? Naturally, I feel sorry for Navan, that it’s all resting on his shoulders.” He sighed.

“You’re not going to help?” Angie pressed, her tone surprised.

Bashrik shook his head. “I won’t be able to join in, in case I permanently corrupt the opaleine. I am Draconian, and so I can’t involve myself in any of the killings. If I do, I could risk the stone staying that way.”

I wondered if a whack to the head might knock him out of his Draconian delusion. From the look on Angie’s face, I could see she was thinking the same thing.

“I’ll be fine on my own, as long as we move through the coldbloods at a steady pace,” Navan assured us, though the prospect worried me. So much death and destruction wasn’t an easy thing to participate in, and I didn’t want him to be stuck with the memory of every single coldblood face.

“Are you sure?” I whispered.

He didn’t meet my eye. “I’m going to have to be. Ready to fly?”

I nodded. I was always eager to fly in Navan’s arms, even though it made me miss the freedom of flight. Something about having my own wings had made me feel closer to Navan, like we were on a level playing field. Although, after what I’d done yesterday, I was beginning to worry that I was becoming too much like a coldblood.

With Bashrik gripping Angie and Lauren, the five of us took to the skies, heading for the volcano in the distance. Wisps of gray smoke rose from the crater like a signal, calling us in. It felt nice to have the wind rushing through my hair again, the breeze caressing my tired face, nipping my dull complexion back to life. It was just the invigoration I needed after a sleepless night.

Cambien was waiting for us in the petrified village. But he wasn’t alone.

A ring of people had surrounded the frozen statues, their hands locked with their neighbors’, keeping the circle closed. Freya was there, leading the ring of Lunists in a whispered prayer that echoed on the breeze, while a reluctant Ginji watched us land.

“As you can see, we have visitors,” Cambien said as we walked up to him, his voice dripping sarcasm.

At his words, Freya broke away from the circle, moving in our direction, her sapphire robes flowing behind her. Effortlessly, the Lunists closed the gap, continuing their soft mantra, undeterred by our presence.

“Welcome,” Freya said softly, dipping low in a graceful bow. Her face was as calm and serene as ever, showing no sign of trauma after what had happened in her temple while she led those poor souls in prayer. I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive her for that. When she should have been encouraging them to run, she’d made them stay with her voice and her words.

Cambien seemed agitated with her, too. “I cannot believe you’re here, Freya. I really cannot believe you’re here,” he muttered.

“We will not move,” she replied, irking him further.

His amber eyes narrowed. “A coldblood just tried to kill you and managed to massacre more than a handful of our people, and you still insist on protecting them. I think that Hell’s Breath damaged your brain when you let it scar your face.”

“Purity is paramount.” She sighed, a flicker of something passing across her calm face.

A groan rose from the back of Cambien’s throat. “We have already figured out a way around the purity problem, Freya. I told you that. I’m not sure how many more times I can tell you that without exploding through sheer frustration!” he grumbled. “Navan has promised to do what’s necessary so we do not make the corruption permanent.”

She shook her head. “Violence only begets violence.”

Cambien looked like he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her as hard as he could. “A coldblood destroyed a whole wing of the temple and took the lives of our people, draining them of their blood!” he barked. “Yet you stand there like nothing happened. You stand there like you’re an almighty being who can’t be swayed by anything, but you must feel something for those we have lost! Do their lives mean nothing to you? She ripped out their throats, Freya! This is not a time for a passive approach!”

“The cycle will not continue,” Freya replied.

I glanced at the rest of the group, but we all appeared to be in a similar state of awkwardness around these two Draconians. There was a familiarity in the way they spoke to one another, and I imagined they’d had discussions like this many times over the years, as leaders of each sect.

Cambien rolled his eyes. “What, so you want me to just free all the coldbloods and let them run amok? Their minds will be too far gone, Freya—there will be no way to control them. En-masse, they may well turn on us, driven mad by their incarceration, and kill us all. If I let them loose, I wouldn’t be surprised if they cut down as many of us as they can, and since you will not let us fight back, that will probably end up being all of us!”

“They may stay in stone,” Freya answered.

Cambien snorted. “Keep them in stone? That will not solve anything. We will stay as we are, never able to take our true forms again, growing weaker with every year that passes, and for what? So they can stay locked up in their opaleine prisons for the rest of eternity?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “We will leave.”

“You think your rusty deathtraps can take all of us across the universe?” Cambien remarked sourly. “You’re living in a dream, Freya, and you need to wake up. There is no alternative planet. There is nowhere else we can call home.”

“Irrith,” Freya replied.

The heavily accented name of my home planet sent a shiver up my spine. It was still on the table, but I wasn’t determined to knock it clean off. I knew they wouldn’t try to take over, because that wasn’t their style, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be bloodshed. The human race was young, in the grand scheme of the universe, and that made us impulsive and defensive, prone to making bad decisions. Plus, the rebels probably wouldn’t appreciate another alien presence on their home base. Only suffering would await the Draconians on Earth, of that I was pretty much sure.

“Freya, you can’t all leave. Cambien is right—you’re taking an enormous risk for very little gain,” I interjected, knowing I had to speak up. “How do you know there isn’t already a species on this planet who will only cause you more pain? And that’s if you even reach the planet without being attacked.”

Navan nodded. “You’re putting your people in harm’s way. I know I’m not in any position to offer advice, but I think you’d be making a huge mistake.”

Freya remained silent.

“You won’t convince her—it is why she’s staying quiet. She has nothing more to say on the subject, so what use are words?” Cambien sighed, clearly annoyed. “It’s one of the most irritating attributes of a Looney.”

Another flicker of emotion glittered in Freya’s eyes. I could see that Cambien affected her in a way that others didn’t.

“I still manage to get a reaction out of her, though.” He chuckled bitterly, as if reading my thoughts.

Ignoring him, Freya turned her attention back to us. “The blood is yours still.”

“You’ll still give us the vial of blood we asked for?” Lauren asked, incredulous.

She nodded. “Then you may go.”

So it was the Draconian equivalent of hush money. They would give us the vial of blood if we agreed to leave Zai and, most likely, never come back. Then again, if they were set on going to Earth, there would be no Draconians to return to, if we were ever in this part of the universal neighborhood again.

“You want us to leave as soon as we’ve been given the blood?” I pressed, wanting perfect clarity.

“You bring only chaos,” she remarked sternly. I couldn’t argue with her. Since we’d landed, all we’d done was cause them trouble. A quarter of their temple was in ruins because of us, and people had died.

“We’re sorry,” Angie said, with a deep sincerity that I shared.

“They didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Bashrik added, prompting a tiny frown to appear on Freya’s forehead. Even so, she said nothing of it, choosing to conserve her words.

“The ritual will be tomorrow,” she announced.

With that, she made her way back to the ring of Lunists. I looked over to see Ginji watching us intently. He’d probably been listening in on the whole thing. Regardless, the conversation was over, and we were back at square one. Yesterday, I’d feared it from Pandora, and now Freya had confirmed those fears. It seemed we were destined to never catch a break.

Admittedly, I was glad about one thing—that Freya had put a stop to us reversing the corruption by killing the frozen coldbloods. I didn’t think I could have stood by and watched Navan cut down so many people. I wouldn’t have wished that many deaths on his conscience.

“Why do I feel like someone should be singing kumbaya?” Angie muttered.

Lauren sighed. “If the blood extraction ritual is going to happen tomorrow, then we need to come up with something else, and fast.”

I nodded. “There has to be something we can do to stop them from traveling to—” I paused, aware that Cambien was still standing with us. “—Irrith.”

The Draconian smirked. “Good luck with that. It takes a brave individual to stare impossibility in the face and refuse to blink. I, meanwhile, will be at the bar, drinking everything in sight until I reach a cozy level of oblivion. You are free to join me, if you wish,” he said, turning around and disappearing through the petrified village. I noticed that Freya watched him go, a disapproving expression on her face.

Navan sighed. “I guess this was a wasted trip, then.”

“I wouldn’t say that. The glorious high priestess does make some valuable points, and she has imparted her divine wisdom to us. We should be grateful for that,” Bashrik chimed in, an almost giddy tone in his voice as he looked across to her.

Navan stared at his brother. “We need to go, before I decide to take Cambien up on that offer of a drink,” he muttered.

“Cozy oblivion does sound tempting,” I agreed as he pulled me tightly to his chest, his wings stretching out behind him. Next to us, Bashrik did the same, his arms encircling Angie and Lauren.

We had less than a day to figure out another way of uncorrupting the opaleine, but our hopes were looking slimmer by the second. Frankly, it felt like we were all out of options.

* * *

I sat bolt upright in bed. Something had woken me.

Outside the window, the sky was dark, the glow of the Zaian moons casting their multiple shades of dim light upon the planet below. We’d gone to bed a few hours earlier, having stayed up to try to figure out a solution to the imminent Draconian exodus, but to no avail. In the end, we’d all agreed to sleep on it, on the off chance that some kind of epiphany would come in the night.

However, instead of a lightbulb moment, I felt fear. Somebody was in the room with us, though I couldn’t see them. Whoever they were, they were stealthy, and they were hiding.

“Navan,” I whispered, shaking him awake. “There’s somebody in the lodge.”

He sprang up, baring his teeth, the muscles of his bare chest rippling.

“Who’s there?” he snarled, prowling toward the end of the bed. As he did so, a tiny voice squeaked from the corner of the room.

“It’s just me, Ginji!” it said anxiously.

Navan turned on the light, revealing the young Draconian, who was quaking on the threshold between the bedroom and the rest of the lodge. “Why didn’t you just wake us up?”

“I didn’t know how you’d react. I was trying to think of the best way to do it, without frightening you, or triggering some kind of beast mode,” he explained, casting an apologetic look at Navan, who seemed amused.

“Beast mode?” He laughed.

“You know—claws, fangs, ripping my head off,” Ginji said, his voice trembling.

Navan smiled. “I might be a bit beastly in the mornings, if I haven’t slept well, but I wouldn’t rip off any heads just for that.”

I yawned. “What are you doing here, anyway, in the middle of the night? Does Freya know you’re here?”

Ginji hurried to the edge of the bed and clambered up, perching at the bottom like a strange animal. “No, she has no clue. She’d be so mad if she knew. The thing is, I had an idea, and I had to tell you as soon as it came to me.”

“Those might be the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. We’ve been completely stumped,” I admitted. “What’s the idea?”

“Is there any way you can take the frozen coldbloods back to Vysanthe with you?” he asked. “I’ve got the antidote insects with me, so all you’d have to do is wake them up and corral them onto your ship.”

I frowned, half amused, half curious. “You have the antidote insects?”

Ginji grinned. “I stole them from Cambien. He was blackout drunk, didn’t feel a thing!” I had to hand it to the little Draconian—he was definitely starting to think outside the box.

“We need to make a detour on our way back to Vysanthe,” Navan explained. “The last thing we need is a horde of crazy coldbloods getting loose on a tin can in the wilds of space. They’d kill us in our sleep.”

Ginji did a funny hop at the end of the bed. “Please consider it!” he begged. “It’s the only way to fix all of this. I have been thinking about it for ages, trying to come up with a compromise that my parents could settle on that took the best parts of both their philosophies, but they hate compromise. You must take it to the middle ground for them!”

A look of confusion passed across Navan’s face, mirroring my own bemusement. “Your parents?” I asked.

“Freya and Cambien,” Ginji clarified, leaving us dumbfounded.

I was utterly amazed that those two, so blatantly opposite in every way, had ever been a couple. It explained the conflict in Ginji, being stuck between two contrasting sects, each led by one of his parents. I imagined them pulling him in both directions, though it wasn’t clear how much time he got to spend with his father. Considering Cambien’s drinking and womanizing, it couldn’t be much, though I had a feeling that wasn’t necessarily Cambien’s choice.

“So will you do it?” Ginji asked.

For a moment, neither me nor Navan said a word as we mulled over the prospect. I didn’t particularly like the idea, especially as we only had a few places we could securely contain the coldbloods. If it were a shorter journey, it wouldn’t be so bad, but to carry them all the way back to Vysanthe would be a risky nightmare. Then a lightbulb went on in my head.

“Why don’t we drop the revived coldbloods off at the quarantine facility? That’s nearby, right?” I suggested, looking to Navan.

He nodded. “It’s not too far.”

“That way, we only have to take the coldbloods a short distance, and then we can go on to the outpost without having to worry about them,” I continued excitedly, knowing we’d reached the perfect solution. All thanks to Ginji.

Navan flashed a half smile. “Yeah, and if we do that, we can wait to awaken the coldbloods until we’ve transferred them to the medical bay and strapped them securely to the beds. We can fit a few in the isolation chamber, too, and maybe put some extras in the supply rooms, if we run out of space in the med-bay,” he said. “We should have enough vials of blood in the ship’s stores to sustain them, too.”

“Ginji, you’re a freaking genius!” I cried, lunging forward to scoop him in my arms and hug him tight. The physical contact seemed to alarm him for a moment, his amber eyes going wide in panic, but eventually he settled, nestling into my shoulder.

“I just don’t want to leave my home,” he murmured.

Never had a truer sentiment been spoken. I imagined you could travel the length and breadth of the universe, and every species would share that same feeling. It transcended everything. Home was home, and the sooner we got this mission over and done with, the sooner I could get back to mine.