Nadin gripped my hand. “Are you all right?” she asked.

I laughed halfheartedly. “I was going to ask you that. You’re the one who fell. I’m fine, what about you?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “If this storm doesn’t pass soon…” she said softly. “We don’t have much oxygen left.”

I didn’t say anything in reply. What was there to say?

We sat in silence, in complete darkness, listening to the sounds of the storm.

◦ • ◦

I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I felt her shaking my shoulder. A soft, warm hand in mine. A girl’s voice whispering, “Isaak.”

“Tamara?” I muttered, still half-asleep.

“I don’t know what that word means,” said Nadin, “but the storm seems to have passed. It’s quiet outside.”

Sure enough, as I opened my eyes—and wiped the grit from them—the gurzas moved away, standing weakly and shaking themselves off. Midday sun hit me in the face, startlingly bright after the pitch-black of the sandstorm. Red dust coated the previously ash-gray mountainside. The only spot on the slope that wasn’t caked with the dust was the round, crater-like indentation that the gurzas’ bodies had left, almost half a meter deep.

I grinned, moving forward to stroke Tuupa’s muzzle. Her blue scales were caked in red dust, but she seemed very pleased with herself. “You saved us, girl,” I said, running my thumb up and down her snout. “You and Thork. Thank you.” She cocked her head sideways, staring unblinkingly at me, and made a purr-like noise in the back of her throat.

“We’re almost out of oxygen,” Nadin broke in. She came up beside me, holding out her oxygen tank, a worried look on her face. “I have no idea how we’re going to make it to the top of this mountain.”

“You might not need to,” a man’s voice said. I jumped, and Nadin whipped around at the sound. A group of people was approaching us, climbing down the slope through the settling dust—three men and two women.

Tuupa made the purring sound again and hurried toward them, nuzzling the man who had spoken. I felt a small pang of jealousy, even though I knew it was ridiculous. Tuupa was never mine. But still… I kind of wanted her to be. I wondered what Mom would say if I brought home a Martian dinosaur for a pet.

“Are you from Elytherios?” Nadin asked.

The woman to the right of the speaker stepped forward. She was older than the others, with deep lines in her face and patches of paper-white skin all over her spindly hands, like discolored liver spots. “That depends on who you are,” she said, “and what you’re doing here.”

Nadin squared her shoulders and pulled her medallion out from under her cloak. “I am Kyrin Nadin of Hope Renewed citidome. I’m here to see the Liberator.”