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Taraven’s breath catches in his throat, his claws grating against the glass in his hand. To my surprise, Malix reaches out and touches Taraven’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
Taraven meets his eyes.
Something passes between them.
My flesh burns where Malix and I touch.
“With enough raw material, Zanpi could thrive again,” Jokahn says. “And I am not the only one who thinks so—your crew has been gone a long, long time, trapped under Dalphox’s thumb.”
“But how?” Taraven says. “It would require…I don’t know—the recycling of a whole army ofzephtan, wouldn’t it?”
“An army like Dalphox’s—wouldn’t you agree?”
I hold up my hand, looking between the Skoropi in our group. “Wait a second—can you explain what you’re suggesting?” I ask. “I have to admit I don’t understand.”
Taraven nods, the wheels already spinning in his head. “Of course,” he says. “Uh…where to begin? You’ve lived on azephtanfor six months.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But that doesn’t make this make more sense.”
“Right,” he says. “The thing is—zephtanhave a complex biological makeup that allow them to cultivate an internal biome. And when one dies, they…well, theygrow. Not just morezephtan, but whole jungles.”
“So you’re saying that with enoughzephtan, you could terraform a whole planet?”
Taraven nods. “How do you think we’ve found so many garden worlds for refueling?” he asks. “We bring de-commissionedzephtanto developing planets, and we help them grow.”
“Developing planets?”
“Planets with a developing atmosphere and ecosystem,” Taraven explains. “The nutrients and complex biome inside azephtancan help developing planets thrive. But a planet destroyed like Zanpi…”
“It could be done,” Jokahn say. “All it would take is a war.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
??
FRANKIE
How am I supposed to sleep when the destruction of worlds is all I’ve talked about tonight?
First Zanpi, then Rath…and now this suggestion that we kill an entire army ofzephtanto restore Taraven’s homeworld. And to top it all off, the creepy prophecy show from Jokahn’s party.
I still don’t know what to make of all that—and I haven’t seen Ravik since he parted ways with us. Taraven told us that he trusts the Traikan priests, but I can’t help but be concerned. This whole thing feels wrong, foreign, strange…
…alien.
It feels alien, and I’m finally starting to get sick of that.
Jokahn insists on putting each of us up in fancy guest rooms, the villa big enough that we get our own suite. It feels like a fancy beach house back home—albeit, with more gold accents, an inset bed rather than a mattress, and a hell of a lot more plants. Vines cover the ceiling, firefern glowing underneath it, and a large deck overlooks the ocean.
Instead of finding this relaxing, it makes me paranoid. I try to sleep, but I toss and turn, ultimately getting out of the nest and pacing around. The sound of the waves should set me at ease, but it makes me feel…off. Everything is off here, from the bed to thewrongnessof the ocean.
And of course, I’m worried that Jokahn is going to betray us.
I wish I could enjoy myself, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.
I’ve just made what I’m pretty sure is my tenth circuit around the room when a knock sounds at the door, so soft that I don’t hear it at first. I frown and move toward the door, pushing a button to slide it open and finding Malix on the other side.
He’s wearing a new outfit, still in a Skoropi style. A gray tunic hangs around his waist, his abs exposed, loose tie-pants resting low on his hips. It puts every gorgeous, shining inch of him on display—from his six-pack to the sides of his sculpted calves.
