The force field around the makeshift camp evaporated in the middle of the night. It proved distinctive because the sound returned, along with the fresh air of the planet.

Kobrah immediately woke, and he wasn’t alone. Karo remained tucked against him, less for heat and more for comfort.

He remembered still, with chilling clarity, the moment the previous day when she’d turned to him with wide eyes and said, “Raffie gave Mommy to the bad guys.”

For a second he wondered if Dara had betrayed them. He immediately shoved that doubt aside. Dara would never put Karo in harm’s way. Which meant she was in danger.

He would have sprinted the whole way back to the ship if he could have, but a force field appeared, a perfect dome about twenty paces round. Opaque, impenetrable, and frustrating. Within its cocoon, his communicator didn’t work. Nor his knife. He and Karo were caught like insects in a jar with no idea what happened.

But he feared the worst, especially given Karo’s statement.

What had happened to Dara?

When the dome disappeared—a glance at his holowatch showed the late-night hour of three—the four crescent moons hung in the sky.

Sprout sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Raffie says we can come home.”

Raffie, that sly computer, would get a glass of wine poured in his circuits for this stunt.

He grabbed hold of Sprout’s hand. If she couldn’t keep up, he’d carry her. Except running didn’t prove necessary. Branches rustled and leaves fell in a shower of blue and purple as the silent white drones descended.

He pulled his knife and growled, “Get behind me, Sprout.”

“They won’t hurt us, Daddy. Raffie sent them to bring us home.”

Flying versus running? Despite a knot of unease, he tucked away his knife and let the tentacles grab him. They swung him and Karolyne clear of the trees and glided quickly toward the dark shape of the citadel.

Much sooner than he could have hoped for, they landed. Now he did scoop Sprout as he sprinted down the corridors. He barked to the computer, “Where is she?”

“Please specify,” the smooth tone mocked.

“Fucking Dara. Where the fuck is she?”

“Not here.”

The reply, so smug and frightening, had him punching a wall, the firm material absorbing the impact and jolting him.

He made it to their room where Dara should have been sleeping. Empty.

Then the bridge, which she hated, and the lounge that she loved. She was nowhere to be found.

Chest heaving with exertion, he put Karolyne down. His daughter hugged his leg. “Where is she?” he growled. “You fucking old, defective piece of crap.”

“Old perhaps, but not defective. Dara has gone to accomplish what had to be done.”

“What do you mean done? Where did she go?”

“To the approaching citadel.”

He blinked. “What fucking citadel? And why would you send her there?”

“Because only she can stop them.”

The chill in his veins deepened. “One woman alone? Are you completely virus riddled? You were supposed to keep her safe.”

“I did what was necessary.”

“Who are you to make that decision?”

“Who am I?” The words echoed and mocked all around. Karolyne clung closer. “I am their doom and redemption.”

“Who are you?”

“Not important. But I am going to have to ask you to return to your own vessel.”

“I would love to.” The Gypsy Moth never treated him with sarcasm. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, I crashed here, and we’ve maintained radio silence so as to not attract attention.”

“No, we didn’t.”

The reply startled. “Do you mean you’ve been communicating with someone? Who?”

“Your ship will be arriving within a few hours. You will depart on it.”

“Seriously? Hear that, Karo, we’re going back to our real home. And then we’ll go find your mother.” He glared at the wall of the ship.

“Better not waste time. The citadel she’s boarded is about to have issues.”

“What kind of issues?”

“The kind that will shut it down and set it adrift with the others.”

“You sent her over with a virus?”

Raffie didn’t confirm but went on. “The coordinates to find them have already been programmed into your ship.”

“And you’re just going to let us go?”

“I have no need of you.”

Ominous but Kobrah didn’t care. “How are we getting to the Moth? Shuttle?”

“Drone.”

Which, he might add, was the scariest fucking thing he’d ever experienced. Encased in a drone, the belly clear for him to watch, he and Sprout were spit from the surface of the planet and, in less than an hour, had scooted into an open pressure chamber on the Moth and dumped.

He’d never been happier to see those grated floors. His first mate met him as soon as the pressure evened.

The door slid open, and relief filled Damon’s face. “Thank fuck you’re back and sorry it took so long to track you. We had a hell of a time shaking the citadel. We finally had to let it get ahead of us in order to lose it.”

“You won’t thank me for long. I need you to find it.”

“Find it? Are you insane?”

Probably, because he was going to rescue his wife.