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  “What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

  “Oh, where do I even start!” he muttered, turning slightly to the side to reveal a hooded figure standing behind him, holding a gun to his back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Might I come inside?” the hooded figure asked with cold politeness, though I didn’t have much of a choice. He’d shoved Mort halfway across the entrance, meaning the shifter would be cleaved in two if I decided to close the hatch on him.

  “Navan!” I yelled, stepping aside to let Mort and the hooded figure fully into the ship.

  Navan came running a moment later, his boots thudding on the metal walkways of the ship, sounding exactly like the cavalry I needed. He froze as he rounded the corner, seeing the three of us standing there, and the gun now pointed at Mort’s neck. The hood still shrouded the figure’s face in shadow, but he chose that moment to throw it back, revealing himself.

  Agent Xiphio glowered at us.

  “Perhaps, miss, you ought to call for the rest of your friends and get them to gather in here, where I can see them, or else I shall be forced to shoot your shifter friend,” Xiphio said frostily.

  Navan moved closer. “I don’t care what you do to the shifter. If you want to kill him, kill him.”

  “Charming!” Mort muttered. “You slog your guts out for a coldblood, and this is always what you get: a bullet in the head and no hint of a thank you.”

  “You may not care for the shifter, Navan Idrax, but I know you care for the criminal traitress over here!” Xiphio declared, shifting the gun from Mort’s neck to my face, the barrel staring at me, at point-blank range.

  Navan froze, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. I kept my eyes on the muzzle of the gun, realizing that Agent Xiphio’s hands were shaking, his gills fluttering. It brought me comfort, making me doubt the agent’s actual intentions. In fact, I doubted he’d even pull the trigger on Mort, let alone me.

  “Are you here to arrest us, Agent Xiphio?” I asked calmly.

  His huge, aquamarine eyes studied me for a moment. “I desire something else first.”

  “What might that be?”

  The tremor in his hand eased slightly, though he kept the gun leveled at my face. “I have been following your trail since you left the port-planet of Wander, where you trussed me up in that unseemly manner!” he began, a flush of purple darkening his cheeks. “I gathered clues of what you were up to from footage I acquired from the Galactis Club and continued to pursue you from there. Now, it has come to my attention that you are seeking an ambaka named Stone. Is this correct?”

  I cast a glance at Navan, not sure how much to reveal. “We are. What’s it to you?” I said, at last, realizing that the Fed really weren’t the enemy here, especially since Xiphio hadn’t arrested us on the spot, or called for backup.

  “I require your assistance in catching a much larger fish than you and your motley crew of misfits," Xiphio explained. “You see, I have been searching for Stone for countless years, trying to outsmart him so I might throw him in a Fed prison for his crimes. Until now, he has always been one step ahead. I believe you may be the key to finally netting him.”

  “You’re getting nothing out of us until you shift that gun away from my girlfriend’s face!” Navan snarled.

  “Of course, you must forgive my brutish actions. They were the only way I could get on board and ensure that you listened,” Xiphio said, lowering the gun and re-holstering it within his hooded cloak. “I’m sure you can understand the actions of a determined man, Mr. Idrax. You are of the same breed, I am certain.”

  Navan took a visible breath of relief. “We’ll hear you out, as long as you don’t try anything like that again. You’ve got our attention.”

  “I am glad to hear it, Mr. Idrax.”

  Mort, looking utterly fed up, padded away from the merevin agent, morphing back into his natural state, a sour look on his face. As he stalked past me, I heard him muttering: “Stupid fish-boy, stressing me out, making my terror glands ooze. Now I’ve got to have a bath… I hate baths. That’ll bring it up to three this year!” He grunted in displeasure, keeping his head down as he moved toward the bathroom, his fleshy feet slapping on the floor. Only now that he was in his normal form could I smell the foul scent coming off him—a mixture of rotten eggs and liquified asphalt.

  “Don’t you want to join in our discussion, Mort?” I asked, feeling bad for the shifter.

  He shot me a nasty look over his shoulder. “No, I don’t want to join your little parlay! I’m sick of you all. I’m going to have a soak, so don’t you dare disturb me. Oh, and you’d better hope your toothbrush isn’t in there, Riley, because if it is I’m going to use it to slough out every nook and cranny!”

  I shuddered in disgust as he disappeared through the hatch, into the bathroom where we’d locked Killick. At least it meant we could have a conversation with Xiphio without worrying about Mort saying something inappropriate and ruining everything.

  “Come this way,” Navan instructed, leading Agent Xiphio toward the observatory, where he called over the intercom for everyone else to gather.

  We sat in the armchairs scattered around the observatory, pulling them into a haphazard circle in the center of the room. The view wasn’t quite as pleasant as usual, with us being perched on the side of a sludgy canal, with fog and passing barges filling the window. Beyond that, there were mountains of scrap metal, plumes of billowing smoke, and the endless wasteland of the planet’s surface.

  Angie, Bashrik, and Ronad appeared a few minutes later, their gazes snapping toward Agent Xiphio.

  “Did we miss something?” Ronad asked, looking to us for answers.

  “Sit down, and we’ll explain everything,” Navan replied, gesturing toward the circle of seats. I supposed he was including Xiphio in that statement, since there wasn’t all that much to catch the others up on.

  As soon as they were seated, Navan offered the floor to Xiphio, allowing him to repeat everything he’d said before. He told the newly arrived trio that he was after Stone, after years of trying to pin him down and take him in.

  “I know why we want him, but what’s he done to you?” Bashrik asked. “I thought he was just a scavenger.”

  Xiphio spluttered in disbelief. “Just a scavenger? I do not think so, sir! He’s far more than a simple scavenger, and he has the criminal record to prove it!”

  “How bad can it be?” Angie wondered, her tone curious.

  “He’s stolen from some of the finest individuals in the universe and has managed to get away with every single theft!” Xiphio remarked. “He took the Cascade Orb from right around the neck of Queen Anthippe of Xalassi, and sold it to a Xalassian warlord, who then used it to purchase a great deal of contraband weaponry, and waged war on the queen and won!”

  I wondered if it was the same Xalassian warlord that Kirin had cheated on Stone with, but it didn’t seem appropriate to mention it. Maybe that was where she’d met the warlord—on a delivery run with Stone.

  “What else?” Bashrik pressed.

  “He stole Princess Femma’s pleasure barge and handed it to a bunch of penniless crooks. He broke into the Museum of the Universe and stole several artifacts, including a very rare suit of armor, a pair of cuffs that were used to imprison the last Vysanthean god, several priceless pieces of jewelry, and crates upon crates of dangerous weapons, which he has passed on and sold to all manner of unsavory creatures, who have only gone on to use those things for murder and torment. And he… he told a mermaid she was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, so he could steal her tears. As you know, mermaid tears are a potent substance.” I could tell he was scraping the barrel for crimes, but I could also see where he was coming from. A lot of that stuff was bad, not to mention the fact that he’d kidnapped our friend.

  “Did you just say the last Vysanthean god?” Navan said, frowning.

  “Well, the last Vysanthean who chose to charade as a god, though it was said he had supernatural powers to back
up the claim. It was why they needed the cuffs, as he was stronger and more powerful than anyone living today,” Xiphio explained.

  “Sounds like an old wives’ tale. I’ve never heard that story,” Ronad commented.

  “Apparently your ancestors wanted to do away with him, so they locked him up and threw away the key. Some say he still lives, in the darkest corner of the universe,” Xiphio said. “Regardless, Stone sold those cuffs to some cretin on the darkstar market!”

  “That’s all pretty bad stuff, but why are you so hellbent on snagging him?” I asked.

  A flicker of sadness lit up Xiphio’s huge eyes. “Stone has perpetuated crime on my home planet for years, offering addictive substances in return for incredibly valuable serrantium.”

  “The strongest alloy in the known universe,” I murmured, thinking out loud.

  “Indeed, miss, and it is found beneath our waters. It is illegal to sell to outsiders, and so it fetches a premium price on all black markets. You must understand, since our planet is naturally covered in water, we require an alloy of great strength and durability that will not bend, will not rust, can withstand great impacts, and cannot be shaken. Serrantium is our divinely given gift, from which our cities are made.”

  It was a good reason to want to track down Stone, if he was peddling drugs in exchange for this serrantium stuff. But from the wounded look in the merevin’s eyes, I wasn’t convinced Xiphio was telling us the whole story.

  “I don’t buy it,” I declared. “What’s the real reason?”

  “That is the reason,” Xiphio insisted, but his cheeks were flushed with purple, his gaze shifty.

  Navan shook his head. “If you want our help, you’re going to have to be honest with us.”

  Xiphio sighed heavily. “Fine. If you must know… Stone was the one who caused me to set the charges on the wrong meteor, making me the laughingstock of the Fed. He’d struck a deal with the Tiburonian leader, to get the Feds to mess up, so that they would have to provide a better planet for the Tiburonians to live on. Naturally, it backfired as much for them as it did for me, but Stone didn’t care. He had fulfilled his side of the bargain, and presumably received his payment for it.”

  It was hard not to warm to Xiphio, despite everything I’d heard about his ineptitude. He seemed shy and sweet, if a bit meek, reminding me a lot of Killick. It appeared Mort was right about the merevin stereotype; they all wore their hearts on their sleeves.

  “So, he made you look like a prize idiot and ran off into the sunset with his dough?” Angie said sympathetically.

  “If you must put it so bluntly, yes,” he admitted. “I have never lived it down, though I hoped to have a wondrous career with the Fed. Stone dashed those hopes the moment he struck that deal.”

  “Well, if Stone is the one meeting Ezra, he will be arriving on the Junkyard pretty soon in order to be here for the supply-drop,” Ronad said, kindly moving the subject away from Xiphio’s embarrassment. “He’s got our friend Lauren, and we’re going to rescue her from his clutches.”

  Angie nodded. “Yeah, and we’ve got plenty of backup, thanks to Riley declaring a revenge bounty on Stone’s head. There should be a whole bunch of pirates there to strike, wanting to collect the money for themselves. I imagine, once they’ve got him, they’ll deliver Stone straight to Riley, to make the trade.”

  Xiphio gazed at Angie in wonderment. “I could not have planned it better myself!” I could see that Bashrik was desperate to make a disparaging comment, but he held his tongue. “I shall assist you in your rescue mission, if you will agree to exchange that assistance for Stone.”

  We looked at each other, a ripple of agreement running around the group. After all, as long as we got Lauren back, it didn’t really matter what happened to Stone. Given what he’d done to our friend, I was more than happy to let him rot in a Fed prison for the rest of his life, paying for the crimes he’d committed.

  “I think that’s a yes, Agent Xiphio,” Navan said, offering his hand for the merevin to shake.

  “You will not regret this!” Xiphio replied excitedly, shaking Navan’s hand with a touch too much enthusiasm. “In preparation for our rescue, I can give you all a small quantity of the blinding dust that I carry around with me. I keep it on hand, on the off chance I run into Stone again. All you do is throw it into his third eye, to prevent him from freezing people in place. Have you seen his blue bracelet?”

  I recalled the glowing thing on his wrist that had somehow protected him from the gunshot Mort fired, when we were standing on the icy plateau outside Nessun. It was just before he’d taken Lauren away from us.

  “I’ve seen it,” I confirmed.

  “We must ensure we take him by surprise so we can prevent him from using that, too,” Xiphio said.

  “Anything to take him down and get Lauren back,” Angie insisted.

  A funny look passed across Xiphio’s face. “What is this Lauren lady like, anyway?” he wondered. “Would you be so kind as to tell me what she looks like, and what I ought to say to her, to show I’m on your side, in case I manage to get to her first? I would hate to pick up the wrong person in the midst of the fray!” He gave an amused snort.

  “Well, her name is Lauren,” I began. “Her complexion is like ours. She’s tall and slim.”

  “She’s got longish hair, which is kind of coffee colored,” Angie added.

  “Though I guess you won’t know what coffee is,” I interjected. “It’s brown. She usually wears her hair in a ponytail, and she’s got these—”

  “Purple glasses, which always slide to the end of her nose.” Angie smiled at the memory. “Her eyes are brown, too.”

  “Yeah, and she was wearing a green-and-silver uniform when she was taken, though I’m guessing she won’t be wearing that anymore,” I continued sadly. “What could he say that only Lauren would know?” I glanced at Angie, tapping my chin in thought.

  “Seamus Barton!” she shrieked.

  “Seamus Barton and the kiss on prom night!” I grinned, remembering the conversation we’d had as we were getting ready for Queen Brisha’s garden party. She’d really liked him not so long ago, but with her intending to go to Stanford and him going to NYU, they hadn’t pursued anything. Now, he was on the other side of the universe, probably wondering what the hell had happened to her. I imagined most people we’d known were thinking that, especially our family members who had been taken into witness protection.

  The merevin looked perplexed. “I’m not sure that is appropriate.”

  “It’s the perfect thing to say!” I assured him. “She’ll know it’s coming from Angie and me if you say that.”

  “I’m not sure I should mention another male. Perhaps you could think of something else—a book she likes, or some music that pleases her, or activities she prefers to do,” he pressed, making it seem like he was after a cheat sheet of how to woo her, rather than a way of letting her know he wasn’t the enemy. He had a dreamy look on his face. Somehow, the vague description we’d given of Lauren had charmed him. I guessed he and Killick really were alike when it came to the emotional, hopeless romantic nature of merevins. He’d only heard about Lauren secondhand, and already I could tell he wanted to fall in love with her—I guessed it was like falling for a character someone had only read about in a book.

  I shook my head. “No, it has to be Seamus Barton kissing her on prom night. That’s the only thing that’s personal enough for her to know you’re a safe rescuer.”

  He pouted, folding his arms across his chest. “From what poor soul did you steal this ship, anyway?” he asked, apparently noticing the fancy interior of the vessel for the first time.

  “A merevin like you, actually,” I said. “His name was Killick… Lollipop, or something like that?”

  Xiphio gaped at me. “Wait, whose ship is this?”

  I wracked my brains. “Killick… Loligo. Yes, it was Loligo.”

  “My goodness, you’ve stolen this ship from one of the most respected noble fami
lies in all of Almaghura!”

  “Yeah, he said something about that. His dad is Orcino Loligo, right?”

  Xiphio nodded effusively. “He is, and what a man Orcino is!”

  “So I’ve heard,” I said with a smile. “How come your species are always on the prowl for a date, anyway? Our friend Mort tells us your planet is covered in beautiful women, so how come you keep looking elsewhere?” It was something that had piqued my curiosity, ever since meeting Killick.

  Xiphio’s cheeks flushed again. “While it is true that the women are beautiful on my planet, there are not nearly enough females,” he explained. “The merevin population is, sadly, 80 percent male, so we are forced to find love elsewhere. It becomes a little difficult when it comes to fathering children, since we are the ones who carry the infants, but that does not always translate with other species. The production of a cross-species child is extremely rare, though there are cases of it occurring. Indeed, it is somewhat frowned upon in our culture to produce a crossbreed, unless they are on the designated list of amphibious species.”

  “Can’t you just couple up with some mermaids?” Ronad asked. “They live on a different planet.”

  “Ah, yes, but they see us as inferior, for the most part,” Xiphio replied reluctantly. “They’re not particularly friendly, nor do they wish for us to bother them.” I wondered if he knew that from personal experience.

  Ronad, Angie, and Xiphio continued making small talk as I looked around at the gathered group. With the pirate horde now at our disposal, if only temporarily, and a Fed agent on our side, we’d ended up with an unlikely number of allies. The prospect buoyed me up with a rush of hope.