The ship shuddered as we moved through the atmosphere, and the surface grew closer and closer. As we neared the ground, I felt the surge of the engines blasting, then the jolt of landing gear coming down as we came to rest on the solid earth below us. Through the glass, I could see the dense canopy of a jungle, with vines twisting downward, and the colorful flight of exotic birds as they soared between the gnarled boughs. Overhead, the sky was a pristine shade of aquamarine with barely a cloud in sight, and the sun beamed down on the flourishing land. Smiling, I pictured myself at the edge of the Amazon rainforest, or on some tropical island in the middle of the ocean. It was easy to do, if I ignored the alien spaceship I’d just landed in.

Putting the Note device back down the side of the cushion, I moved toward the glass again, peering out. We’d landed in a clearing with a structure at one end. It was the only visible sign of civilization in an otherwise wild, rambling rainforest, and it was an impressive sight. The building appeared to be a temple, with nine opaleine minarets twirling upward, each one flanked by a statue of a dragon hewn from the same glittering opaleine. The statues were arched in midflight, their wings out, their jaws opened toward the heavens, their tails coiled around the bases of the minarets. Each of them held a different object in clawed hands. It was hard to see what the objects were from this distance, but I had a feeling they had some symbolic meaning.

Peering closer, I noticed something strange about the opaleine. It wasn’t shimmering the way it usually did. The veins looked less like sapphire, the color dulled, the sheen gone. In fact, from where I was standing, they looked almost black. Rubbing my eyes, I guessed it must’ve been a trick of the light. After all, this was a different kind of sunshine than what I was used to on Earth and Vysanthe. Perhaps, here, the sun’s rays didn’t pick up the color blue as sharply.

“Everyone in the control room, now!” Pandora’s voice thundered through the speakers, startling me.

Tearing my eyes away from the beautiful temple, I hurried back to the cockpit, knowing I would soon experience Zai in real life instead of viewing it from behind a glass pane.

Pandora and the others were all waiting as I entered. On one of the tables, off to the side of the main control panel, were five huge metal cases kept closed with large clasps, though these had all been sprung open to reveal the bright red suits inside.

“Wow, you really mean business!” I whistled, walking up to the first of the cases. Tentatively, I reached down to touch the thick, rubbery fabric. The texture sent an involuntary shiver up my spine. To me, that kind of material was like nails on a blackboard. There were heavy-duty boots in the case, alongside a helmet with a breathing apparatus built in.

“Whose is whose?” Angie asked, joining me.

Pandora sighed, as though we were all total idiots. “They are arranged in size order. The large ones are for Navan and Bashrik; the smaller ones are for you three,” she explained.

“I’m guessing this one’s mine,” Navan muttered, pulling out a suit and holding it against him. Even next to his broad frame, the outfit looked way too big.

“Bashrik, this one must be yours,” I said, lifting out another one of the larger suits. The remaining three were smaller than the ones the guys had, just as Pandora had said, but not by much.

Knowing things were about to get sweaty and uncomfortable, I lifted out my suit and stepped into it, zipping up all the parts that needed zipping and fastening all the parts that needed to be fastened. There were straps on the wrists, neck, and ankles that needed to be tied as close to the skin as possible, as well as three straps around the back that kept the body of the suit airtight.

“Will you belt this part for me, Lauren? I can’t reach,” I asked, almost popping out my shoulder as I attempted to tighten the three straps at the back. I would have asked Navan, but he was in the middle of belting up Bashrik.

She smiled, halfway into her own suit. “I’ll strap your back if you strap mine,” she joked.

I grimaced as Lauren pulled my straps tight, feeling the pressure of the seal as it tightened around me. Already, the collar felt like it was strangling me, and I knew it was only going to get worse. The suit had started off loose, but now it was becoming uncomfortable. It flapped in all the wrong places and felt too tight in others.

“All done,” Lauren announced, turning her back to me so I could do the same for her. Bashrik and Navan were just finishing up helping each other put on their suits.

As I fastened up the back of her suit, I glanced across at where Angie was standing, defiantly attempting to do up her own straps. It looked like Navan was about to offer her some help, when Bashrik stepped in.

“Here, you can’t do that on your own,” he insisted.

Angie flashed him a sour look. “You think I’m incapable of fastening up a few straps because I’m—” she began, but he cut her off.

“No, it’s not because you’re human, and it’s not because you’re a female. I know how strong females can be—there are plenty of Vysanthean females who are stronger than the males—and I know how strong you can be,” he rambled, his cheeks reddening. “It’s… It’s just that these straps aren’t meant to be done up by yourself. You have to get someone else to do it. Otherwise, the seal won’t be tight enough,” he explained, his eyes locking with hers.

I grinned, watching as Angie struggled to reply. The two of them hadn’t spoken much on the journey from Vysanthe, sticking to polite conversation and the occasional jibe, so it was nice to see them tongue-tied around each other again.

“Well… fine, as long as that’s the reason why,” she relented, turning back around so he could finish fastening her into the suit.

“That’s a little bit tight, Riley!” Lauren wheezed, making me realize I’d been so focused on Bashrik and Angie’s cute moment that I’d pulled the strap too hard.

“Sorry!” I yelped, loosening it. “The lovebirds distracted me,” I added in a whisper.

Lauren smiled, watching the last of Bashrik’s chivalry. “Progress at last,” she whispered back, just as Angie looked up, catching the two of us staring at her. Immediately, we turned around, attempting to look busy.

A few moments later, Pandora glanced up from her screen. “Are you all ready?” she asked, scrutinizing us.

I looked along the line. All of us were in our suits, everything properly strapped up, our helmets under our arms. Navan had moved to stand beside me, his gloved hand snaking around my waist. The universe was working against us—I finally got a chance to be near him, and I was dressed head to toe in thick rubber.

“I think we’re good to go,” Navan replied, giving me a playful squeeze. Not that I could feel much through the annoying suit.

All we needed now were the rest of Pandora’s instructions, and then we could head out into the unknown world of Zai, leaving her way behind.

“Good. Put these in your ears,” she demanded, handing over five earpieces. They were tiny, slotting inside the cavity of our ear canals, with little barbs to stop them from falling too far in. I held mine in the palm of my hand, examining it closely. “Put them in!” she repeated impatiently.

“Sorry,” I murmured, putting the earpiece in. It felt uncomfortable for a moment as the barbs hooked into my skin, but then it felt like nothing was there at all. Down the line, I watched as everyone else put theirs in. Angie and Lauren showed the same brief discomfort I’d felt, though the pieces didn’t seem to bother Bashrik and Navan at all.

“Through these, you will be able to hear my instructions,” Pandora said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now, remember what I told you before?”

“We can’t leave without the blood?” Angie replied, raising her hand as though we were in class.

Pandora nodded. “Precisely. Orion needs that blood, so don’t return here without it. I will not let you on board if you return empty-handed. Do you understand?”

We nodded.

“Good. Be firm with the Draconians. They are not a species to fear, even if they do seem to have some grasp of biowarfare,” she muttered. “It’s likely they will have removed it from the atmosphere, if they were the ones who put it there, but keep your suits on regardless.”

“I think that goes without saying,” Bashrik remarked, his face pale. I realized it must be harder for the coldblood contingent to risk going out onto Zai, not knowing if they would come back uninfected.

“And take this, of course,” Pandora continued, handing a wrapped package to Lauren. It was about the size of her head, the shape bulky and strange. “This is the gift that’s to be traded for the blood. This is all they’ll get in return, so do not offer anything else. Do I make myself clear? Vysantheans do not bargain,” she insisted, as Lauren took the package and gripped it in her arms. From the way she was struggling to hold it, I could tell it was heavy.

“No bargaining, no diplomacy, no surrender,” Navan mocked, his voice low so only I could hear. I tried to suppress a chuckle.

“What was that, Idrax?” Pandora asked sharply, glaring in his direction.

Navan smiled. “I was only repeating your sentiment, Pandora. No bargaining—understood.”

“Right, then get going. Time is not on our side, so I suggest you be as quick as possible,” she said, watching as we walked out of the cockpit and headed toward the blank patch of wall at the far end of the ship’s main space.

Lauren paused halfway. “Do you have a bag for this?” she asked, the heavy gift slipping in her grasp.

Pandora rolled her eyes. She disappeared for a moment, then returned with an empty black satchel, which she threw in Lauren’s direction. “I’d forgotten how weak you humans can be,” she muttered, as Lauren caught it.

“Thank you,” she said, slipping the gift into the bag and closing the flap. She slung it across her body and continued toward the far wall, joining the rest of us.

“You want me to take that for you?” Navan offered, seeing the strain on Lauren’s face.

She grinned at him, shaking her head. “I could do with buffing up a bit. Space travel has made my muscles all floppy,” she joked, shifting the bag’s weight to her hip. I smiled at my friend, knowing she just wanted to feel useful. I loved her for that.

Pandora stayed on the threshold of the cockpit. As Navan pressed the button that opened the bay doors, she pressed a button of her own, and the door to the cockpit slid shut, making her disappear behind a sheet of solid metal.

I was about to put my helmet on when Navan wrapped an arm around my waist, his hand supporting my neck as he swung me low, planting a deep, sensual kiss on my lips. I squealed in surprise and delight, looping my arms around him as I kissed him back, savoring the moment. Only when the bay door started to come up did he release me, setting me back on my feet.

“What was that for?” I murmured dreamily.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week,” he sighed, grinning from ear to ear. Reluctantly, he jammed his helmet on his head, fastening the suctioned seal into place as the door inched upward. Beside us, Bashrik did the same.

Angie covered her earpiece-filled ear with her hand. “At least we’re by ourselves now—” she started to say, but Bashrik’s arm shot out, his hand quickly covering her mouth. Her eyes flashed with annoyance.

“It’s not the earpieces. Pandora bugged our suits,” he warned. “Even if it might seem like we’re alone, she’s always listening in.”

A second later, a hiss sounded in our ears. “Bashrik is smarter than he looks.” Pandora’s voice crackled through, her tone taunting. “No matter where you are, I will be listening.”

I glanced at the others, seeing my concern reflected back at me. How were we supposed to plot against someone who was always listening in on our conversations? Especially since we’d left the Note on the ship—not that we could use it with these suits on, anyway.

As the bay door slid open, none of us said a word, the rest of us pulling our helmets down over our heads. If we were going to figure out how to desert Pandora on the planet, or otherwise remove her from the picture, we’d have to come up with a way to get around the bugs in our suits first.

We walked down the ramp leading from the bay doors and took our very first step on Zaian soil. Even through the suit, I could feel the intense heat of the planet, the sun glaring through the screen of my helmet. A trickle of sweat meandered down my spine, and the collar of the suit felt itchy on my bare skin. With no way of scratching, I knew it would soon become unbearable, but for now I had to grin and bear it.

The sound of the bay door closing behind us signaled the point of no return, and we set off toward the temple. It was about a hundred yards in front of us, the minarets glinting, the entrance guarded by two towering statues that looked halfway between man and dragon. If I squinted, they almost resembled coldbloods with their wings stretched out, though that comparison probably wouldn’t go down too well with the Draconians.

The closer we got, the more intricate and vast the temple became. It had seemed way smaller from the safety of the ship, but now it rose up, the front façade at least ten times taller than me, and that was without adding the height of the minarets. It was one of those buildings that you wandered toward with your face turned upward, craning your neck to see as much as possible. In the center of the outer wall, sandwiched between the two enormous half-man, half-dragon statues, stood a door, around half the height of the building itself.

“Do we just… knock?” I asked, as we reached the gargantuan entrance. I’d never seen a door so huge. “Door” didn’t seem to be an impressive enough word for what was standing in front of me.

As soon as I’d spoken, the earth trembled beneath our feet. Ahead, the door opened of its own accord, the grate of stone on stone shivering up my spine, just like the feel of the rubbery suit material had done. We watched, glancing nervously at one another, as it creaked open, and a female creature stepped out of the shadows.

For a long while, she said nothing and simply stood there, letting us take in the sight of her.

Her sapphire robes gleamed in the sunlight, the silky fabric shimmering in a way I’d never seen a fabric shimmer. Angie stared at it with an almost hungry look in her eyes, her mouth hanging open. However, it was the woman’s face that caught my attention. She was entirely bald, her skin dappled with green scales that stopped where a natural hairline might have. Her smooth, pale green forehead led to reptilian eyes the color of amber. Underneath one eye, she had the textured skin of healed scarring, which spread out across half of her face, right down to her jaw—the remnant of a terrible burn, by the looks of it.

I wondered what her full dragon form might look like, my imagination running wild. I pictured her with gigantic wings outstretched, like the statues that lined the temple roof, her whole body covered in the same emerald scales that ran across her hands, arms, and head.

“Welcome. I am Freya,” she said, at last. Her English was perfect, although her voice carried a strange lilt; the Draconians were evidently using a universal language technology similar to that of the Vysantheans, but her resulting accent sounded thicker than Navan and Bashrik’s. Where theirs were almost British-sounding, Freya’s was even harder to compare to an existing Earth accent. It was somewhere between Russian and Spanish, by my limited guesswork.

“My name is Riley. This is Navan, Bashrik, Angie, and Lauren,” I replied politely. “We’re here to establish peaceful negotiations between our group and your people,” I explained, hoping she wouldn’t instantly refuse at the sight of Navan and Bashrik. Considering the coldbloods’ bad history with the Draconians, it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“As you can see, we’re an unusual mix,” Navan added, his tone friendly. “These females are from distant territories, while myself and my brother hail from Vysanthe.”

“A cold place,” Freya remarked shortly, her face giving nothing away. She was impossible to read. Even so, I got a good vibe from her. The warmth in her demeanor was hard to ignore, even if she didn’t say much.

“We hope our origins won’t deter you from speaking with us,” Navan went on quickly. “You see, we aren’t like the ones who came here before. We don’t want to take any of your resources, and we don’t want to stay. We simply have a small request.”

“Life goes on,” she said softly, her amber eyes lifting to the sky.

I looked at Navan. “It does, Freya. In fact, that’s one of the reasons we’ve come to you. We need your help, so our lives can go on,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like an idiot.

We were met with silence, though it didn’t feel cold or ill-meant.

“We’re ambassadors, sent by the queen of Vysanthe to offer something in exchange for your assistance,” Navan continued.

“Which queen?” Freya asked, her face still blank.

“Queen Brisha,” he replied.

A hint of displeasure rippled across Freya’s face. “Spilling blood to manifest destiny.”

I wondered what kind of face she’d have pulled if we’d said Gianne. Would she have responded better or worse? I guessed we’d never know. Saying that, it was understandable that Freya harbored some resentment toward both the Vysanthean queens, since they were descendants of the royals who’d sent the miners to Zai. However, I didn’t quite understand what she meant by Brisha “manifesting destiny.” I wracked my brains, and the words brought up a vague memory. Manifest destiny had something to do with the belief that one nation spreading through other lands was both justified and inevitable. Was that what Freya thought Brisha believed—that her expansion of territory, to absorb the South and to spread out across the universe like an infection, was justified and inevitable? It surprised me.

“I believe she is the lesser of two evils, where the queens of Vysanthe are concerned,” Navan said, but Freya just looked at him, her intense amber eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“Anyway, we were wondering if we could come inside and speak with the Draconian leader,” I chimed in. Vysanthean queens were clearly a touchy subject.

“I am the high priestess,” she said, bowing low, strange ridges showing up along her spine and jabbing through the fabric of her robe.

I attempted my own bow. “You’re the leader?” I asked.

“I am she. Come,” she instructed, turning to go inside. However, she paused on the threshold, looking over the five of us. “Your suits,” she said evenly, offering no further detail.

For a moment, I was confused, and saw similar bewilderment on my friends’ faces. And then it came to me. “You want us to take our suits off?” I ventured. “Why would we do that?”

“Show me your trust,” she replied simply.

Navan took a step forward. “Freya, we’ve come to you unarmed. That should be enough to make you trust us, surely?” he countered, his voice tense.

Freya shook her head, though she said nothing in return.

“If you’d just give us a moment, Freya, we’ll need to discuss this,” I said, gathering the others into a circle. Again, she said nothing, her amber eyes simply staring.

“We can’t take our suits off. That’s insanity!” Bashrik hissed, condensation blossoming against the screen of his helmet.

“Well, we can’t go in there if we keep them on,” Angie retorted.

Bashrik scowled. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to worry about a plague designed specifically to kill you!”

“I say we trust them,” Lauren said, shifting the strap of the black satchel and ignoring Bashrik. “I’ve read a lot about Draconians, and they’re a friendly species. If they created the plague, they did it to fight back against an enemy. We aren’t an enemy, and they won’t see us as one. As long as we don’t pose a threat, they’ll treat us accordingly,” she said confidently, instilling hope in me.

I looked at my friend. “I agree with Lauren. They’re pacifists. I think we’ll be okay.”

“Navan, will you talk some sense into them?!” Bashrik said, evidently feeling ganged-up on.

Navan sighed. “I think they’re right, Bash. If we want to get into the temple, we need to take the suits off. I think we can trust them,” he said, prompting Bashrik’s scowl to deepen.

Our earpieces crackled to life with Pandora’s voice. “It’s your funeral. If you do take your suits off, keep your earpieces in. I’ll be able to hear you and speak to you through those. I want to hear everything these scaly morons have to say,” she remarked, before the line went dead again. So she could hear us through the earpieces, as well as the suits. Was there no escaping this woman?

“Fine, then it looks like we’re taking our suits off,” Bashrik muttered. “But, I’m telling you now, if I get sick I’m going to blame every single one of you!”

Tentatively, I reached up for the edge of my helmet, preparing to take it off. My hands were shaking, my heart racing. We were stepping into the unknown, putting our lives into the hands of strangers. Alien strangers.

I looked at Freya as I lifted the helmet off my head, feeling the warm rush of the Zaian breeze on my face. Although strange, her eyes were somehow kind. Yes, they were a pacifistic species, but we had to avoid offending them, in case they unleashed their plague. Because now, we were completely at their mercy.