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He walks toward the center console of the cortex, where he taps on a panel to pull up a map. Zandro zooms in on the planet’s surface, expanding it for the rest of us to see.
“Frankie’s location doesn’t make sense,” he says. “I don’t know how she got there, but she’s at least a hundred meters underground—beneath a lake, if I’m looking at this correctly. And not only that, but she’s halfway across the planet from Jokahn’s villa, which shouldn’t be possible in such a short time.”
“Could the coordinates be incorrect?” Mai asks.
“No,” Zandro says. “We know where the signal came from; the question is how to get there.”
“So we take a shuttle and we go straight to the source,” Mai says. “I’m getting my agent out of there.”
“That is not the issue,” Zandro says. ”The other side of Liatra is firm Second House territory, Frankie and Malix have been apprehended, and we would need to set down for some time if we wanted an exit strategy. Unless we get support, it is not even an option to extract them.”
I look desperately at the wall. When Bekah had to rescue Zandro, she told me thatellenakflowers grew on the wall of his quarters and opened a portal to Jaya’s cockpit.
But there are noellenakflowers, and no pink Earth flowers either. Just a carpet of vines closing in on me, the same walls that have kept me prisoner for so long.
I feel lost.
“Zandro,” Ondari says from the comms station. “We’re getting a transmission.”
We all move toward Ondari, Zandro ahead of us. Mai grabs my arm and hangs back as the rest of them move, Reza on the other side of me.
“If he doesn’t agree to it, we’ll find a way to get them out,” Mai says. “I’m not leaving her behind.”
I nod my head once. “I’m with you.”
The holo is flickering to life once again, but it isn’t Frankie I see on the other end. This time, a Lyran appears—Counselor Va’lora, Malix’s aunt. Her expression is stern, her chin tilted up in defiance, her black eyes sparkling like oil on water.
“Captain,” she says.
“Counselor,” Zandro responds. “What is the news?”
“We’ve received another transmission from Dalphox,” she says. “He wants your immediate surrender…and they have another satellite circling Halla, our next closest moon. There are thirty-thousand troops stationed there.”
Reza’s shoulders stiffen and Mai reaches out to squeeze his arm.
“Why us?”
“He’s received intelligence that you’re near Liatra,” she says. “I believe he feels threatened.”
Zandro crosses his arms, his tail swishing behind him. Ondari levels his gaze on the captain, his delicate features unreadable. I’m sure he has an opinion on what’s happening here—he always does—but he doesn’t voice them while Va’lora is connected.
“And what would you have us do?” Zandro asks.
“That depends,” Va’lora says. “Have you found the source of the weapons? We’re in a race against time, Captain.”
“I believe we have,” Zandro says. “But we have no way to access them.”
“What if you had a distraction?”
My heart pounds in my chest, my fingers curling at my side until my claws bite into my palm.
“What are you suggesting?” Zandro asks.
Va’lora’s frown deepens. “We have been in discussion with your fellow warlord, Nixeris,” she says. “And they can organize a fleet ofzephtanto transport our troops on Halla to Liatra…where we will bring in the full force of the Hallan Brigade, some of our top operatives, against Dalphox’s troops there.”
The tension in the room tightens. Zandro’s tail flicks and lights up with a yellow glow.
“It will be dangerous,” Zandro says.
