Lincoln Cole

Abdullah strode through the empty Command Deck, heart thumping in his chest. His stomach was doing flips and his legs felt like rubber; all he wanted to do was lie down.

“Words?” Haatim echoed after Frieda closed the connection. “Should I be concerned?” “Only if you enjoy living,” Abigail answered. “I only get that tone from her when she’s really pissed off. What did you do? How did you get them to give me more time?”

“We have to leave,” Abigail said. “They are about to burn the city to the ground.” Haatim stared at her, wondering if maybe he’d heard wrong. He had hit his head during the car crash, so maybe he had a concussion. He shook his head.

Wade leaned against the cool metal railing, watching stars twinkle outside the deck’s viewport. He was on the bridge of the Capital Class Warship named Denigen’s Fist. Below the stars, he could see Axis stretching into the distance.

Abigail drove in silence back toward Raven’s Peak, trying to work through the turmoil of emotions inside her. It was sprinkling, and the only sound in the car were raindrops on the windshield and the occasional scraping of the wiper blades.

The blocky merchant class spaceship Cudgel lowered slowly to the surface of the barren brown planet, landing with an audible plop that made Vivian wince.

“What we waitin’ for?” “The new Captain,” Abdullah replied quietly, waving his hand for his companion to lower his voice. “She’s supposed to arrive today and assume command of the Fist.”

Despite what she’d said to Haatim, Abigail was barely able to sleep that night. She lay awake, thinking about her lapses in judgment over the last couple of days with Haatim, Delaphene, and the demon that was holding Arthur.

Traq was terrified. When the woman—Vivian Drowel—had shown up at the door, she’d had a short conversation with Rica, and then after a tearful and quick goodbye, she’d taken Traq by the hand and led him away from his home. His mother packed him a bag and told him she loved him.