Ice recognized what he felt as irritation. Not just the frustration that Storm often caused him—the kind that made him want to rub the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth.

This was real irritation—almost anger—of the type that most Crimeans tamped down and ignored, to the point that they barely felt such emotions anymore. But Ice felt it. It made him want to ball his hands into fists and throw one right at the Prime minister’s face.

The irony of it was that the Prime Minister seemed to be feeling a similar emotion, as he sneered at Ice, Grim, and Storm. They had just relayed the details of their mission to him. He paced in front of them, hands together behind his back, his eyes slits.

“What a waste of resources. I told Chaos that this mission to Earth was a fool’s errand. I take no joy in this, no satisfaction at being right. You should have stayed and searched for a solution right on Crimea.”

Ice took a few slow, steadying breaths. “Alana—”

“Alana,” the Prime Minister spat, stepping toe to toe with Ice. “She arranges Earthling wedding ceremonies. We could arrange ceremonies without you having wasted so much fuel and time on this trip. Ceremonies are not the answer, and I would have thought you might realize that.”

When the Prime Minister didn’t move, clearly waiting for an answer, Ice said, “We did the best we could considering our mission was cut so short.”

“Excuses,” Hallow growled before he began pacing again.

“Nonetheless, we’re launching a full investigation into the sabotage—”

“Sabotage?” He stopped again, eyeing all of them in turn. “You should be careful using such terms before you’re certain. Investigate your malfunctions, and then determine whether it was sabotage and who might be to blame. But jumping to conclusions so you have an excuse for this failure is unacceptable, Minister Silverkiller. Don’t you agree, Commander Dreadhowl?”

Storm, ever the military man, gritted his teeth together and said, “Yes, sir.”

Ice couldn’t hold it against him. Sometimes one had to play the game, no matter what the truth might be.

“Ambassador Grim, do you think you were sabotaged?” the Prime Minister asked.

Ice turned to Grim, waiting to see what his reaction would be. In typical Grim style, he said, “I do. And I also think we’ll get to the bottom of how and who soon enough. We’ve put our best people on it.”

The Prime Minister nodded. “I understand you’ve cleared this investigation with the emperor already? No doubt, while he was praising all your efforts on this mission?”

“Yes, exactly that,” Grim said, his chin held high. Ice wished he had the urge to smile. It seemed like an appropriate moment for it.

“Very well.” The Prime Minister walked away, waving his hand at them in dismissal. “But when your investigation shows a mere malfunction or sheer incompetence, I’ll be making my recommendations to the emperor about your performance on this mission. And when this Alana Watson proves herself as useless as I’m guessing, he might take a dimmer view of all your efforts.”

They left Prime Minister Hallow’s meeting chamber, and as soon as they were clear of the door, Storm turned to Ice. “If there was no sabotage on that ship, I’ll eat my own hair. And yours.”

“Agreed. Interesting that he seems so sure, though.”

Grim rubbed his chin. “Is interesting really the word?”

Ice met his eyes, his suspicion against the Prime Minister even stronger now that it was clear Grim shared it.

Storm looked between them, frowning. “Are you two saying that Hallow might have had something to do with the ship’s malfunctions?”

Grim clapped Storm on the back. “We were only thinking of the possibility, Storm. You’re the one who said it.”

“Only because it seems to be what you’re implying.”

Ice put a hand on Storm’s other shoulder. “You’ve seriously never considered it?”

“I’m considering it now,” he said, eyes narrowing. “The Prime Minister has always been conservative. His views on Arcana are not the mainstream. He almost sounds nostalgic when he speaks about it, as if Crimea would be better off if Arcana were still in place. But holding those views doesn’t make him a saboteur.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Ice agreed. “But it makes him a suspect.”

“Agreed.” Storm squared his shoulders. “No matter who it was, we need evidence to prove it. I’m going to examine the ship with the investigators. Perhaps I can be of some use.”

Grim nodded and began walking again. “Of course. But you’ll attend the banquet first.”

“I can be much more useful if I’m working.”

“Yes, but Emperor Chaos wants to honor us all, so we’re obliged to go.”

Storm’s jaw muscles twitched. “Very well. But, as soon as I can get away, I’m going to figure out what was done to our ship.”

Storm may not have been very good at first contact with humans, but with Crimean, he was formidable. Ice was grateful he was on their side.

Ice left Grim and Storm to debate the possibilities and suspects. He wanted to have that discussion with them, but not now. He was in a hurry to find Alana.

He’d been by her side while she was transferred from the Campania to the planet, and had even stood looking down at her for several minutes while she slept peacefully. He wondered if he’d done the right thing in bringing her there. He also noticed the way her nose twitched and how she smiled a little in her sleep. Ice found it surprisingly charming.

Her rich, reddish-brown hair had fanned out behind her head and shoulders, and he’d touched it and her cheek before he left her to brief Emperor Chaos and then the prime minister.

The emperor had been well-pleased, especially that they’d all made it back alive after so many problems. He was hopeful that Alana could help them, but regretted that they’d had to leave so soon. The investigation had been a mutual decision, each hoping for one separately. Emperor Chaos was determined to find out who had risked the lives of fellow Crimeans to stop their mission. He’d called it the highest treason, because not only did it risk their lives, but failure of the mission could risk the lives of everyone on the planet.

The visit with the Prime Minister had taken a long time since he kept interrupting their brief and asking questions, berating them, scoffing at the “waste” and generally being as difficult as possible.

By this time, Alana was at the palace and the banquet that Chaos was throwing in her honor. He wouldn’t get to speak to her privately, at least not for a while, but he found he longed to see her even with others around. The pull he felt toward her was curious. He tried to chalk it up to a new experience—she was the first human he’d spoken more than a few words to, after all—but deep down he knew it was more than that. What it was, exactly, he’d have to wait to find out. There were so many more important things to deal with.

The banquet hall was teeming with people who ate, drank, and talked. It was nothing like the ancient banquets and parties they’d all heard about where people didn’t just dance, they frolicked. Instead of polite expressions meant to acknowledge one’s presence, there used to be laughter and merriment. Arcana had effectively killed that in the Crimean people along with the sadness and fear.

Alana sat next to the emperor, who talked to her almost nonstop, except to take a bite or a drink. She looked around often, perhaps taking in her new environment. Ice wondered, maybe even hoped, that she was scanning the crowd for him.

Their eyes met as he approached the table, and her face lit up with recognition. A friendly or at least familiar face in a crowd could do that, even to a Crimean. But when she smiled widely, Ice felt the strangest urge to mimic it. He almost had to clamp his teeth together to keep it from happening.

Before he reached the table, Fire approached him with questions about the prime minister’s reaction. By the time that conversation ended, the emperor was addressing the crowd, calling Ice and the rest heroes for the mission. He hailed Alana as their savior and encouraged the people to eat and drink as they prepared for a new way of life on Crimea.

When his speech was finished, Ice finally rounded the table and approached Alana. He held out a hand in greeting. She gripped it tight, and her eyes seemed shinier than normal.

“Alana,” he said. “I’m glad you fared so well on the journey.”

“I’m glad to see you at all,” she said, a wide, genuine-looking smile on her face.

“Emperor,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Empress.”

“Ice, sit here next to me.” The empress gestured to a chair next to her. “Enjoy the meal. You deserve the rest.”

Grim, Storm, and Leaf came into the hall and made their way to them, and places were made for them. The Prime Minister arrived a few minutes later, but didn’t immediately sit. He roamed around the room with his small entourage, talking to citizens of nobility. Given the frowns on their faces, Ice guessed many of them shared his disdain of the mission and their new guest.

Ice ate, glanced at Alana from time to time, and waited patiently for the festivities to be over.