“You found out too late?” I pressed, deciphering her stilted speech for the benefit of the others. Lauren still had her hand on the high priestess’s shoulder, while Angie remained on the floor, cradling Bashrik to her, her focus never leaving his limp form as tears threatened to fall.
“We were too late,” Freya agreed, speaking plainly for once.
“The Pyros probably didn’t want to go too far against their religion—their beliefs still stood, but they were tired of being taken advantage of, especially when the very thing the Vysantheans were mining was the one thing they needed to take on their full forms,” I said, rambling slightly. “Which is why they chose to fight back using biological warfare, instead of something more… traditional. If they’d stolen ships or resources to make weapons, I’m guessing that wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, right?”
Freya sighed. “It would not.”
“So that’s why they unleashed a plague. It’s discreet. It’s hard to trace. And, once it was out there, there would’ve been nothing the Lunists could do to stop it from reaching the Vysantheans,” I reasoned.
“But the plague ended,” Freya said softly, her eyes drifting toward Bashrik.
“Apparently not,” I said. “Do you think the Pyros could be behind this? Do you think they might know we’re here, and something’s up?” For a moment, Freya said nothing, her face expressionless as she mulled over my words.
Navan’s nostrils flared. “You better start talking!” he snapped, stepping toward the high priestess, despite my hand on his arm.
Freya was about to answer when a figure emerged from the back of the Celestial Room and tore across the floor toward Navan, flying at him like a scaly ninja. I saw the flash of claws as they raked at Navan’s skin, but I was too slow to stand in the way. Surprised, Navan attempted to guard himself from the onslaught of his attacker’s rage.
“How dare you threaten the high priestess!” Ginji howled, his scales spiked up in defense, his teeth bared as if he were about to bite Navan. Evidently, he hadn’t seen the previous attack. If he had, I dreaded to think what he would’ve done.
Freya sprang forward, grasping Ginji by the waist and pulling him away from Navan, forcing Lauren back to her feet in surprise. Holding Ginji tightly, Freya whispered soothing words to the angry young Draconian, stroking down the scales on his head until they lay flat again while his rapid breathing returned to normal. All the while, he glared at Navan, the hatred seething across his face.
I realized how difficult the Lunaris faith must be for a boy like Ginji, torn between pacifism and natural impulse. Heck, it would be difficult for anyone to always be as serene as Freya. Even with a hand choking the life out of her, she’d remained calm, keeping to her convictions despite the very real possibility of death.
Ginji, however, seemed to struggle with the restraints of the rulebook. Thin trickles of blood meandered down Navan’s face and neck where Ginji had clawed at him. The wounds were only superficial and would heal quickly with Navan’s Vysanthean platelets, but they were the sign of a very troubled, very torn young Draconian.
“Give us the antidote to the plague,” Angie demanded suddenly, lifting her gaze to Freya’s. Tears fell down her flushed cheeks, her voice ice cold.
“It is not with me,” Freya replied evenly, her arms still wrapped around the emotional Ginji, who was snuffling against her sapphire robes.
Angie’s eyes flashed angrily. “Then tell us where it is. We’re not leaving this room until you give us some actual information—none of these pathetic little tidbits. I want a real answer from you!” she snapped through gritted teeth. “You might think it’s trendy to speak in riddles, but I’ll tell you the truth: it’s the most irritating thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life!”
“It is not with me,” Freya repeated, her voice showing no sign of emotion.
“You don’t have the antidote?” Lauren said, the two of us exchanging a worried glance.
Freya shook her head. “I am powerless.”
“Wait, you don’t have the power to reverse this?” I tried uncertainly.
With a sad smile, she shook her head again. “It is beyond me.”
“Then, who has the antidote? Who has the power to reverse this?” I pressed, knowing we were getting somewhere.
“Another,” she replied, bordering on the obtuse.
“Yes, we understand that someone else has it, but who has it?” Lauren countered, her voice surprisingly calm.
“Is it one of the Pyros?” I added. It had to be, if they were the ones who’d made the damn thing.
Freya nodded. “It is.”
“Do they have a name?” Angie muttered, her words dripping sarcasm. In her arms, Bashrik stirred, distracting her attention back down. Her hands tenderly stroked his hair.
“Cambien,” Freya said simply.
Cambien. That name was the reason Freya had run off in such a hurry the previous day, looking more flustered than I’d seen her since we got here. Nothing seemed to faze Freya, but that name had affected her in a way that only bad news could. Whoever this Cambien was, I was pretty sure they were going to be trouble.
“Cambien can reverse this?” Navan asked tersely, his wings retreating, his fangs and claws receding. He knelt to pick up his brother again. Angie seemed reluctant to let him, but she moved away as he heaved Bashrik into his arms, holding him as though he weighed nothing.
“The antidote to all,” Freya explained, flashing me a meaningful look.
A lightbulb went on in my head. “Wait a minute. He can reverse what happened to Bashrik, and he can reverse the corruption of the opaleine—is that what you’re saying?”
“The power is his,” she said, almost regretfully.
“Not that it will do you any good,” Ginji muttered, wiping his nose on Freya’s robe.
“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, smiling at him.
“Cambien is the most selfish creature you will ever meet,” he explained sullenly. “He will not do anything he does not want to do. He cannot be convinced. You could offer him the world and he would pass on it,” he continued, keeping his gaze on Lauren. It seemed the little Draconian had taken a liking to my wise friend, finding security in her presence.
“Where can we find Cambien?” Navan asked, locking eyes with the furious-faced Ginji.
“Tell us where we can find him, Ginji. We need to do this for our friend, and for you and your people,” Lauren interjected, distracting Ginji’s attention away from Navan’s frosty glare.
He looked shy for a moment, before glancing up at Freya. “May I?”
Freya inclined her head, releasing her hold on the silver-scaled boy. “Tread carefully,” she warned, though I wasn’t sure whether she was speaking to us, or to Ginji.
With her arms no longer holding him back, Ginji hurried across the room and disappeared behind a wooden screen decorated with intricate cosmic designs embossed in silver. A moment later, Ginji reappeared, holding a small golden pendant in his hand, the disc attached to a chain.
Reluctantly, he handed Navan the pendant, pressing down on the center, the way he’d done with the celestial map that had shown Earth. The memory of that universal map made me realize how we were solving everyone else’s planetary problems, while life on Earth continued without us. Whenever I heard the name of my home planet, it felt like a jolt to my system, like hearing the name of an ex, or a lost loved one. I wondered if that was exactly what Earth would become to us—a distant, lost loved one, never to be seen again.
If I stopped to think about Jean and Roger, and everyone we’d left behind, I’d crumble to pieces. The only thing holding me together was keeping busy and keeping the hope alive that I would go home one day. And, right now, there was a job to do.
“You need to travel to this village, near the crater of Mount Kusuburi,” Ginji explained, eyeing Navan with a frown. “You will have to go there without a guide,” he said coolly.
“How come?” Lauren asked kindly.
 
; “The Lunists want nothing to do with Cambien. He is the cause of our suffering,” Ginji replied, though I detected the hint of a strange emotion in his voice. It was hard to place, but it sounded like doubt. Perhaps he really was torn between two sides.
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” I asked, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked up at me with wide eyes before turning over his shoulder to glance at Freya. A silent discussion passed between them, but I could see Freya was winning.
“Lunists avoid the mountain,” she said, putting an end to the conversation.
Ginji turned back around, looking slightly disappointed. “Nobody can come with you,” he said, though I would’ve put money on Ginji wanting to. It had to be intriguing, knowing there was a whole different sect on the other side of the valley, who weren’t as strict and who fought back when threatened. True, their moral compass might be a bit wonky, but to a kid it probably sounded preferable to stuffy temples and endless silence.
“You may go,” Freya encouraged, moving to pull Ginji back toward her.
“We’re sorry about before,” I said, nudging Navan.
He sighed. “I truly am sorry for what I did, High Priestess. My anger got the better of me,” he apologized solemnly.
“Anger is a disease,” Freya remarked.
“It is, High Priestess. I’m learning to control it,” Navan promised.
She smiled. “Refreshment will be brought,” she said, before turning and disappearing toward the back of the Celestial Room, taking Ginji with her.
Awkwardly, we lingered in the room a while longer. After about ten minutes, she returned, with Ginji by her side, carrying five satchels between them. They handed out the bags, leaving us to look at what was inside. There were bottles of water and food for us to eat on the journey. Navan and Bashrik had pocketed the vials from the crate, and I set about transferring them to the bags, as Navan held tight to his brother.
“Thank you, that’s very kind,” I said, and the others murmured in agreement.
“Sustenance should be shared,” she replied, bowing low. With that, she melted into the shadows she’d just appeared from, with Ginji hurrying after, casting one last salty look at Navan.
With nothing more to say or see, we exited and paused in front of the Celestial Room’s beautiful doors. Angie clung to Bashrik’s hand where it dangled from Navan’s grip. The journey to Mount Kusuburi was going to be an interesting one, since we were going to have to carry Bashrik with us, but I didn’t doubt Navan’s strength.
If anyone could get Bashrik to the top of that volcano, it was Navan. He had hope pushing him onward.
Chapter Thirteen
After heading back through the temple and coming out of the back exit, we started following the map that Ginji had given Navan. It took us across the valley, skirting past the endless ships that sat on the dried-up riverbed. A few Draconians looked our way, but nobody seemed bothered by our presence. I guessed they knew what to make of us by now, since Navan and the others had spent a bit of time in the shipyard.
“Did you offer much help?” I asked as we walked along.
Navan nodded. “We asked for a list of systems the ships had, and promised we’d have some improvements for them in a day or so. Hopefully, we’ll have this opaleine thing figured out by then,” he said, glancing down at Bashrik’s unconscious body.
“Do you need to put him down for a while?” I asked, knowing he had to be heavy, even with Navan’s superior strength.
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
As we walked along, I realized that Pandora still hadn’t contacted us, even though she had to have been listening in. I might not have had my earpiece on me when I first started speaking with Freya, but she’d have heard everything else, after the others burst into the Celestial Room. Perhaps she simply didn’t care.
Remembering the earpiece, I retrieved it from Lauren and put it back in my ear. Still, Pandora remained silent, saying nothing about my brief radio silence. A wave of relief washed over me. Knowing Pandora, if she had a problem with something I’d done, she’d make sure I knew about it. As it was, she kept quiet. It looked like I was off the hook.
Soon enough, the ships were a blip behind us, their metal frames gleaming in the sunlight. It was unbearably warm in the humid heat of the Zaian climate, but the valley seemed to be cooler than the jungles on either side. Regardless, my clothes were sticking unpleasantly, and I could see the others were suffering, too. Even with the water we’d been given, it was impossible to slake our thirst. The more we drank, the more we sweated, the beads pouring down me in salty streams.
“I’ve always hated saunas, and now we’re on a planet that is all sauna!” Angie muttered, fanning herself with the folded-up frond of a palm-like tree. It didn’t seem to be doing much good.
“It is pretty hot,” Lauren agreed, wiping the lenses of her glasses, which had steamed up for the millionth time.
We were following a dirt track across the valley floor, and the route was getting more and more overgrown the farther we moved along it. The Lunists were right—nobody came this way, likely because nobody sought out this Cambien character. I wondered what he’d be like, though I was struggling to picture him in my head. All I could see were scales and a twisted, masculine face, my overheated mind refusing to cooperate. From the fear on Freya’s face at the mere mention of his name, I assumed he was going to be something of a monster.
Overhead, strange lizard-like creatures flew across the gap between the valley sides, their leathery wings patterned in bright, geometric designs. They looked like the patterns painted on the temple ceiling. Maybe that was just their way of painting, inspired by the nature around them. That definitely seemed like a Lunist thing to do.
“Give me a parrot any day,” Angie complained. “The only thing I hate more than saunas are lizards. And these little bastards have got wings!”
As if sensing her discomfort, one of the winged lizards divebombed Angie, gunning for her satchel. With a shriek, Angie raised her hands, covering her head. The creature wheeled around to try again. She flailed as it swooped low, catching the scaly side of the lizard, sending it flying off with its tail between its legs.
“I touched it!” Angie shuddered.
“Poor thing was just after some food,” Lauren said, grinning.
Angie scowled. “I don’t care! It could’ve gotten in my hair and bitten me!”
“They’re lizards, Ange, not bats.” I chuckled.
“Alien lizards… ALIEN lizards! Who knows what these suckers can do!” Angie countered, grimacing as she pulled her curls up into a bun.
Eventually, unhindered by any more lizard bombers, we trekked up the left-hand side of the valley, the incline relatively easy on our tired legs. The terrain was flat enough, once we got to the other side. Here, the grass grew long and lush, with patches of exotic wildflowers springing up along the way as a reminder that we were in the tropics. To our left, deep jungle stretched away, though there wasn’t a visible path through it the way there was on the inhabited Lunist side. I could hear the rustle of the leaves and the call of unusual creatures, but I couldn’t see anything in the dark shadows that flanked us. Anyone, or anything, could be watching us as we walked along—stalking us, unseen.
Ignoring the sense of dread as best as possible, we followed another dirt path along the lip of the valley, until it came to a sudden halt at the bottom of a mountain range. The rocky mountains seemed to come out of nowhere, springing up out of the jungle itself, their jagged peaks appearing to touch the cloudless sky above. There were five mountains in total, as far as I could tell, varying in size, though only one of them was smoking. This, I guessed, was Mount Kusuburi, the volcano.
“Wait, we’re climbing this?” Angie gasped, staring dumbfounded at the steep incline. A winding path led up through the rocky terrain, but it didn’t look particularly inviting in this kind of sweltering heat.
“It’s the only way up to the Pyros village,” Navan said r
eluctantly, glancing down at Bashrik in his arms. “But we can take a quick break here,” he added. I could tell, from the pulse of his veins, that he was beginning to flag, though he would never admit it. No, he would endure the weight and the strain until Bashrik was safely at the top of the volcano. Which kind of sounded like an oxymoron.
Carefully, he lay his brother down against a boulder and sat down next to him. He took a swig from another vial of blood and wiped his brow before taking the edge of Bashrik’s t-shirt and dabbing his brother’s brow with it. The sight of their close bond made me smile, my heart lurching. Hopefully, we could reverse this sickness. I didn’t know what Navan would do without his brother, and I didn’t want to know.
“Can’t you just fly Bashrik to the top of the mountain to meet with this Cambien guy?” Angie asked, wheezing as she plonked herself down on a boulder.
“There’s no way you’re going up there alone,” I interjected before Navan could respond. “If Cambien sets eyes on two coldbloods, he’ll kill you on sight. These guys aren’t like the Lunists, remember? There would be nothing stopping them from lashing out at Navan and Bashrik. If we’re with them, Cambien might be more likely to hear us out.”
Angie groaned. “Fine, but I never thought it would be a hike that killed me,” she sighed. “After traveling the universe and meeting alien races, I really didn’t expect it to be something as pathetic as a walk in million-degree heat that finished me off,” she continued dramatically, taking a deep gulp of her water.
I laughed. “It’s going to be a long-ass climb but think of Bashrik’s face when he wakes up and sees you,” I said, flashing Lauren a knowing look.
“What, drenched in sweat, with cheeks like beets?” Angie retorted, raising an eyebrow. “He’ll wish he’d stayed unconscious,” she complained, much to our amusement.
A low moan drifted toward us from the spot where Bashrik sat, leaned up against the side of a boulder. Slowly, his eyes blinked awake, a confused expression falling across his face as he took in his surroundings. Angie rushed over to him and knelt on the ground, Lauren and me following after, perching on the nearby rocks.