“So, what are peanuts like?” he asked.
“A small nut. I like them roasted and salty.”
“And what about people? Is there anyone grieving for you? A lover or partner?”
She swallowed. “No. I lost Rusty, my stepfather, a few months back.” She clasped her hands together. “I have no family waiting for me, or anyone who’ll miss me.”
“I’m sorry.” His hand closed over hers. “It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
She looked at him, saw something in his silver gaze. “You lost someone?”
“My mother. Over a decade ago.”
“I’m sorry, Rhain. My mother died too, when I was eight.”
He looked up. “She was murdered. Krastin killed her.”
“What?” Mal breathed.
“My father ordered the assassination. She defied him at every turn, and ensured I wanted nothing to do with him.”
Mal rested her hand on his knee. “Rhain—”
“I want him dead, Mal.”
The ruthless cut to his voice made her chest hitch. She saw a darkness on his face she hadn’t seen before. It scared the hell out of her.
“Poppy’s my priority,” she said.
“And Krastin is mine.”
Okay. Mal bit her lip. She needed to keep a sharp eye on this, because for Rhain, this mission was very, very personal.
Rhain straightened, then pointed out the window. “There’s the Barrens in the distance.”
She saw the darker smudge and the faint shadow of mountains.
I’m coming, Poppy.
The Barrens were dark and forbidding. Rhain, and the rulers before him, had tried over the years to rehabilitate it, but it was too irradiated and damaged.
It was part of Zhalto now. Bad to the good. Dark to the light.
Thankfully, the mutated monsters of the Barrens only came out at night.
He glanced over at Mal.
Her face was set, a little grim. Her fingers curled securely on a handhold.
He knew he’d unsettled her earlier. He flexed his hand. The need to hunt down Krastin was growing stronger. He’d killed Rhain’s people, murdered Rhain’s mother, threatened Rhain’s leadership, and he had to be stopped.
Rhain cursed mentally. He sounded too much like his father.
Blowing out a breath, he studied Mal. Such strength. She was so far from her home, her life changed irrevocably. Yet she was determined to find her friend. He’d already learned from his friends on Carthago that humans could be brave, loyal, and strong. Mal was living up to that description.
She turned her head and their gazes met. She was fierce. He knew she’d keep fighting, surviving, searching for Poppy.
“We’ll fly over the crash site soon,” he said.
She nodded.
“After that, we’ll head to the Emex Mining Outpost. It’s secure. A safe base for us to use while we search for Krastin.”
“Got it,” she replied.
“We’ll find out what happened to your friend.”
Mal shifted. “What if she’s dead?”
Her tone was devoid of emotion, but he knew there was pain under it.
He touched Mal’s arm. “Then we’ll mourn her.”
“I’ll be alone,” she whispered.
“No, you won’t be.”
She grabbed his hand and held on tight.
“And Carthago isn’t far away. You can meet with the others from Earth.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’d love to meet them.”
“Coming up on the crash site coordinates,” the lead pilot called out.
The ground below changed. The lava pools glowed brightly.
“It looks like hell,” she murmured. “A mythical place where the damned are sent when they die.”
In the distance, a geyser shot up, spraying hot lava into the air. Rhain felt the tension radiating from Mal. She tapped a boot on the floor.
“It’s too dangerous to land,” the pilot said.
“Get us as low as you can,” Rhain ordered.
He rose and opened the side door of the flyer. The ship moved into a hover. Mal stepped up beside him.
It only took seconds to see the twisted remains of the ship.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Scan it,” Rhain said.
A blue light shot out from the flyer, moving over the wreckage.
“No life signs, Overlord. And no significant biological matter.”
“She’s not here.” Mal turned to him and pressed a hand to his chest. “She’s not dead.”
There was hope in her eyes and he didn’t want to dash it. There was every chance some predator had dragged off Poppy’s body.
Mal’s fingers curled into him. “She might’ve made it, Rhain.”
“She might have.” But where would she have gone? Even if she’d been alive, she would have had to face the Barrens.
A low alarm filled the flyer. The fighters all stiffened.
The two pilots were working frantically, looking at a projection.
“Status?” Rhain called out.
“Overlord. We have four starships incoming. Fast.”
Rhain frowned. “From where?”
“No idea. They appeared out of nowhere. They’re coming into scanning range.” The older man looked back. “Sir, they’re Zhylaw.”
Thadd cursed.
Gorr. “Let’s go. Evasive maneuvers.”
“You won’t fight them?” Mal asked.
“The flyer is a transport. It doesn’t have the offensive capabilities to take on that many ships.”
“Sir, they’re in visual range.”
Back at the side door, Rhain gripped the edge, looking out into the sky. He saw the black ships streaking closer.
They had sharp pointed fronts, extending back to a jagged backend that looked almost like teeth—sharp and intimidating. Zhylaw raiders. They were fast and deadly.
The raiders fired.
The flyer dove. Rhain slammed into the wall and Mal crashed into him. He wrapped an arm around her.
Out the window, a raider zoomed past. The flyer dipped and weaved to evade.
“Those ships—” Mal’s nose wrinkled.
“Yes, they have organic components built into them.” Parts of the raiders were constructed of skin and bone.
She grimaced. “They harvest parts of living things to use in the ships?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“You’d better strap in,” Thadd growled at them.
Rhain urged Mal into a seat. The flyer shuddered and he slammed into the wall, barely catching himself. He dropped into the seat beside Mal.
Smoke filled the cabin.
Gorr. They’d been hit.
Several raiders crossed in front of them. The pilot jerked the flyer to the side, banking hard.
Mal cursed and bumped against Rhain’s shoulder.
“Surely I can’t be in two ship crashes in one week,” she muttered.
“It’ll be fine. This flyer is sturdy.”
But they took another hit, and the flyer jolted hard.
They started to spin in a circle, dizzyingly fast. There were mutters and shouts from the fighters, all of them gripping their seats.
Gorr. Rhain threw an arm around Mal.
“We’re going down,” the lead pilot yelled.
“Hold on.” Rhain unclipped his harness.
“What are you doing?” Mal yelled.
“Saving us.”
He staggered toward the cockpit. It was so hard to walk with the flyer jerking and shuddering.
He made it, and watched the ground rising to meet them through the front viewscreen. He lifted a palm, and pulled all the energy he could, as fast as he could. He needed to slow them down and buffer their landing or they’d be smashed to tiny pieces.