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  Ianthan gazed around the ship and choked back a sob as his eyes fell on his father. He flinched, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. It took him several moments to gain enough composure to speak.

  “Yes, it’s a mess,” he croaked. “B-But you do have the tools you need back at your main base, right? On its own, the pod will take at least three weeks to reach Vysanthe. Soraya will still have time to catch up with it, even with the delay. Fly to Alaska, grab all your tools, then return to fix the control board. Once it’s fixed, you’ll have access to the pod’s exact coordinates and you can go straight after it.”

  I was about to ask what on earth they were talking about regarding Navan’s “main base” and “Alaska,” when the nausea I had been experiencing on-and-off for the past hour increased ten-fold, and I found myself buckling at the knees. I fell backward out of the ship, tumbling to the grass and gripping my head as a searing pain tore through my brain.

  “Riley!” I heard my friends cry, and then Angie was there, by my side. Navan, too, was there, kneeling next to me. I was seeing double as he stared at my face, his brows knotted in a frown.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, his eyes wide.

  “We didn’t take the Elysium,” Angie said, and Navan’s eyes snapped toward her. “Sorry!” she added quickly, holding up her hands, “but you’re crazy if you think we’d be okay with just forgetting everything we found out! When we went into the house to talk, we found a bowl of vials, which Riley had spotted you drinking from earlier, so we figured that they probably wouldn’t do us much harm, and we could do a switch— but don’t get mad! Because if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have known to come and fetch you when we overheard Jethro and Ianthan plotting—”

  “Oh, for Rask’s sake,” Navan said, and I wasn’t sure who Rask was, but the way he said it made it sound like a very bad swear word. His stormy eyes zoned in on me. “What did it taste like—the liquid you drank?”

  I opened my lips to respond, my throat feeling painfully parched. “Slightly salty.”

  Navan swore again, and his boiling hot hands pressed against my forehead, his thumbs lifting up my eyelids, despite the fact I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to let them close.

  “Oh no,” Angie gasped. “Why are her eyes doing that?!”

  “Doing what?” I asked, trying not to panic.

  Navan looked at me, his face blurring. “Clouding over.”

  My vision continued to blur, as though a blind was being slowly drawn over my eyeballs.

  “And what about you two—what did yours taste like?” Navan asked Angie and Lauren, a renewed sense of urgency in his tone.

  “Mine didn’t taste salty at all—it was slightly sweet,” Angie replied.

  “Mine too,” Lauren added.

  Navan exhaled sharply. “That bowl of vials contained a mixture of substances. What you two most likely drank was the blood of white deer—which, although a species native to Vysanthe, shouldn’t have much of an effect on you earthlings. On the other hand, it sounds like what Riley drank was silver root—a type of stimulant, similar to coffee for us coldbloods, but much too strong for human consumption. It seems like it took a while for the effects to kick in, as it’s known to be a slow-acting substance, but now…” His voice trailed off, and his silence frightened me.

  “Now what?” I choked, nearly blind as the mist thickened over my eyes.

  “Navan,” Ianthan’s hoarse voice spoke up from somewhere to my right. “Go to Alaska now, and you can kill two birds with one stone. Fetch your tools and take the girl with you to fix up. You have a loaded apothecary in storage, don’t you? I’m sure you can figure out an antidote with the ingredients you have there.”

  There was a pause and I heard Navan take a deep breath. “I can’t be mad at you, because if you had taken the Elysium, we’d have no clue about Jethro and Ianthan. Also, Ianthan’s right—I’ve got the ingredients I need for an antidote. You’re going to be okay, Riley. But you, Ianthan.” His voice took on a harder edge. “I still haven’t decided what to do with you. I’m not letting you out my sight—you will travel with us. Lauren and Angie, you’ll need to take care of Bashrik, as well as be here for Ronad in case he needs assistance. His treatment is mostly complete now, but it’ll be several days before his strength has returned. I’ll extract the bullet out of Bashrik, and then give you some medication to feed him—I have a small stock in the ship that I will leave you with, along with instructions.”

  “What will we tell the Churnleys?! How long will you be gone for?” Angie asked.

  I heard Navan swallow. “I don’t know what you’ll tell them, but we won’t be gone much longer than twenty-four hours…I hope.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Angie helped me into a chair, and I was mostly in a daze as Navan and Ianthan darted about the yard, between the ship and the house, preparing to leave. I could tell what was going on primarily by my sense of hearing, given that my eyesight remained blurry.

  I heard Bashrik groan as Navan extracted the bullet, and then Navan spoke in hurried tones regarding an assortment of ointments he was leaving with the girls.

  What felt like fifteen minutes and a lot of confusion later, Navan and Ianthan had made the necessary preparations, and I sensed them approaching. Through my hazy vision, I could see that Navan had washed the blood off of himself, and had a black shoulder bag slung over his back. Ianthan was clutching what appeared to be a thick puffer coat.

  Navan bent down to tug some sort of shirt over me, and then picked me up. I flinched, expecting his unbearable heat to course through me once again and cause my head to split in two, but to my surprise, his temperature was moderate—on the warm side, but more than bearable.

  “Wh-What happened?” I managed, as one of his arms slid beneath my knees, the other around my waist. He picked me up and held me against his chest, and I put my arms around his neck for extra stability. Though my vision was still blurry, I felt… inexplicably safe in his arms. Ordinarily, I would’ve insisted on walking on my own two feet, but I was too woozy to pretend that I could even stand, and the gentleness of his touch made my whole body relax.

  “I don’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you already are,” he explained. “I took a formula to help regulate my temperature while I carry you.”

  “Wait,” I said, as his wings appeared behind his back. “You’re going to fly with me all the way to Alaska?” I hadn’t fully processed the thought till now.

  “I’m afraid the last train has already left the station. It’s the only way we can reach it.”

  “Riley!” Lauren called. She and Angie approached me, and I felt their hands squeeze mine. “Please be careful.”

  “If we hurry, she should make it,” Navan replied, and a second later, my friends’ touch left me as he lifted into the air, Ianthan by our side. My stomach dropped. I had barely murmured “Goodbye” before I felt the air rush past me as we broke through the treetops, the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on my skin.

  I wanted to look down, to see how high we had flown, whether I could spot the Churnleys’ little wooden house already, but I could hardly see past a few feet—even Navan’s face, mere inches above mine, was a strain to make out.

  But maybe that was a good thing. As we soared higher, I shivered, imagining just how many feet must be between us and the ground. Navan’s speed was breathtaking, and given that there were no straps securing me to him—except for his own arms and mine around his neck—my lack of sight was probably something to be thankful for.

  I wanted to ask him questions, like how long he thought it was going to take us to reach his “base” in Alaska, what he even meant by “base,” and how he had one there—as well as what would happen to me if his antidote failed to work—but with each second that passed, I found myself less and less able to formulate coherent thoughts, as though my brain were disconnecting from my mind.

  I didn’t lose consciousness, not completely, but I f
elt myself slipping into a heady, almost dreamlike state. I hadn’t swallowed a drop of alcohol my whole life, but I imagined this was close to how being intoxicated must feel—like I was floating on a lazy river, anything anxiety-inducing too slippery to hold on to. I closed my eyes as the pain in my head faded, and I felt lighter than my body, as though I might at any moment simply be blown out of it by the wind.

  It was unnerving, and I tried to grab a hold of something, anything, yet my arms remained still—then I remembered they were already wrapped around Navan’s strong neck, and while I was being held in his arms like this, there was no chance of anything bad happening to me.

  Then I felt my lips begin to move, my voice coming to life, though my brain couldn’t connect to what I was saying. All I was aware of was my emotions as I spoke, which began to vacillate like a pendulum. One minute, laughter was bubbling up in my throat, and the next, tears spilling from my eyes as an overwhelming anxiety gripped my chest. Somewhere in-between, a small part of me—the part that was aware of a complete stranger’s eyes watching me—felt an acute sense of embarrassment at my behavior, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t regain control of myself. That was the most terrifying thing. I had no idea if this stupor I had fallen into would ever stop. I could’ve blurted out my entire life story to him, my deepest fears and insecurities, and I wouldn’t have known it—from the myriad of emotions rolling through me, it would not have surprised me if I had.

  “Riley.” His voice was soft, gentle—and yet also deep, grounding. It vibrated through his chest and rumbled into mine, tethering me to him, to the security of being pressed against him.

  I was grateful that he seemed to recognize the effect his voice had on me, and he continued to say my name, every now and then, reminding me of a reality outside of my own mind. Gradually, my emotions began to feel less out of control, and I managed to focus on the firmness of his body, supporting my soft limbs like a strong bed frame. My lips closed, and I stopped babbling. I nestled my head against his collarbone as a deep exhaustion settled into my bones.

  Sleep somehow swooped in, enveloping my soul and dimming my senses. I dozed, while the air continued to whip around me, and when I finally came to again, it was to the sensation of extreme cold.

  I opened my eyes and realized that it was dark, except for the light of a pale moon in the night sky—and I was wearing the puffer coat Ianthan had been carrying. I could also see a little more clearly. The pain in my head and the dizziness were still there, but perhaps the rest had done my vision some good.

  I gazed up at Navan. His skin had returned to its grayish hue, and his dark eyes were fixed on a small platinum compass he was holding in one hand—his other arm still wrapped tightly around me. The dials on the compass were illuminated, casting light upon the strong plains of his face. Under different circumstances, it might be a dream come true to be wrapped up in the arms of this handsome man. Well, not man, exactly, but . . .

  He met my eyes as he realized I had come to, and I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. The embarrassment of earlier returned full force. I wished I could remember what I had said to him. There was a sense of understanding in the look he gave me that had not been present when we had taken off—as though, during our journey, he had gotten to know me better. I wouldn’t have necessarily minded that, if not for the fact that it was completely one-sided, and I had no idea how much better he knew me. I was as good as alone with him—hundreds of miles away from family and friends—and my life was literally in his hands. I felt I really ought to know him better, too… as well as try to gauge how much I had divulged about myself.

  “Um,” I croaked, uncertain of how to start the conversation.

  “You’re feeling better?” he asked. His voice was throaty, like he hadn’t spoken in a while, as he raised a brow.

  I nodded, wetting my lower lip. “A little, thanks.”

  “We still have to get you treated. You’ve undergone a serious ordeal. I don’t think you realize the magnitude of . . . of what you’ve done.” A troubled expression was etched on his face. I could hear the concern in his voice, and it made me nervous. “We’re almost there now.” He averted his gaze to the compass, and then looked straight ahead.

  I followed his gaze. In the far distance, I could make out the twinkling of lights spread out over a small area—apparently some kind of village—but other than that, there was nothing but the glistening of icy tundra for miles. The silence was almost deafening, except for the beating of Navan and Ianthan’s wings.

  Ianthan was flying about ten feet away, his face a stoic mask. I couldn’t imagine many words had been exchanged between the two as we’d flown. For that matter, I couldn’t imagine what an ordeal Navan was going through, to have had his best friend betray him like that. I couldn’t even conceive of either of my best friends betraying me. I trusted them with everything I had. It would devastate me to discover one of them scheming behind my back.

  “Hey,” I said, shaking away the thought. “I’m sorry I tricked you.” I gave him a meaningful look as he glanced back down at me.

  “I seem to be getting betrayed an awful lot lately,” he said and shook his head, exhaling, his cool breath touching my face. “I used to think I was a pretty hard guy to fool. I’m starting to rethink that now.”

  I chewed on my lower lip, trying to scrape together the courage to say what I wanted to. “I hope it wasn’t too weird on the way over. I . . . I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know why I was saying whatever it was I was saying.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he looked away again, focusing on our line of flight straight ahead. I’d been hoping he’d take the bait and spill what had happened, without me needing to put myself out there and ask him directly, but his lips remained sealed.

  “Because, see, I can’t actually remember what I was saying. So, maybe you could clue me in?”

  When he looked at me, I was surprised to see empathy in his eyes. My cheeks grew hotter.

  “You said some things,” he replied vaguely.

  “Uh… Okay.” I breathed out, deciding not to push it. If it came out naturally in conversation, then that was all well and good. If not, I wasn’t going to force it. It didn’t make the discomfort go away, but there was one way I could try to compensate for that… “Well, I feel like there are quite a few things you skimmed over during our first question and answer session,” I said, changing the subject. I recalled the conversation I’d overheard Ianthan and his father having, and how many question marks still hovered over that in my brain.

  Navan cocked his head to one side. “Such as?”

  “Such as, what’s really going on back in your homeland? I overheard Jethro talking about two queens, who are going to be entering some kind of war against each other? Jethro was saying how important it is that he and Ianthan get on the side of Queen Brisha, because she’s going to win the war. Which led me to assume that he—and probably you and your brothers too—are on the side of Queen Gianne?”

  Judging by the dark flicker in his irises, the question made him uncomfortable. “You’re right,” he replied heavily. “I did hold back a lot of details when answering your questions. If you recall, I believed you would take Elysium right afterward, so there wasn’t exactly much point in giving you a full background… But yes, Vysanthe is ruled over by two queens. Gianne of the South and Brisha of the North. They are sisters—twin sisters—who inherited the throne about a decade ago. My brothers and I are citizens of Gianne’s queendom, as are our parents, as were their parents…”

  “Wow. So why do the sisters hate each other so much? Why is a war brewing?”

  Navan sighed, stowing away the compass into his black shoulder bag and adjusting his grip on me with both hands. My skin tingled as his right hand accidentally slipped through the interior of my coat and brushed against the bare flesh at the small of my back. His touch was freezing—not a bit of warmth left in him.

  My breath hitched and I clutched him t
ighter, shivers running through me, unwittingly drawing our faces closer together.

  “I apologize,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. The shadow of a smile crossed his lips. “As I mentioned, the ‘humanizing’ formula I developed allows us to become a conductor for heat, but in the absence of external warmth—and sunlight—our blood goes cold again. Like a reptile, just as you said.”

  “No worries.” I loosened my hold on him and created a little more distance between our faces. Though I couldn’t deny being that close to him felt… nice. “All in all, you’re probably easier to handle as a coldblood.”

  “Is that so.” I could tell he was trying not to smile. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before. Anyway . . . As for your question, why are the sisters going to war? Well, it’s kind of a long story… Vysanthe is a planet that consists mostly of ocean, iced over for the majority of the year. There are two mainlands—located around the north and south poles. Both of these continents were once ruled by a single monarchy—King Hektor and Queen Shari, the parents of Brisha and Gianne, their only children. But a little over a decade ago, a powerful underground rebel faction rose up, unhappy with the king and queen’s dictatorship. They wished to introduce a system closer to democracy—as you on Earth would describe it. However, although the faction managed to execute the King and Queen, the two sisters escaped the assassination, and, quickly rallied troops and formed an army to wipe out the resistance. The few who managed to escape with their lives were forced to go underground. If they made public their wish for democracy, they’d be executed, so anyone who managed to escape essentially had to disappear. So the rebellion was over, thus securing their own place as leaders, the rule of Vysanthe naturally passing down to them from their deceased parents.”

  He paused to glance at Ianthan, as if to check he was still following us—or perhaps wondering if he was listening in on the conversation. Ianthan’s stony expression gave away nothing.