EA spoke up. “Would anyone like some hot beverages? I can prepare them quickly.” The others ignored the little compy.

“I forbid it,” Bram said. “This conversation is over.”

“Shizz, where have I heard those words before?” Tasia said sarcastically. “Isn’t that the same thing you said to Ross?”

EA did her best to follow Tasia as she stormed out of the old man’s chamber. Bram looked as if his own daughter had just dealt him a mortal blow, reminding him of the single worst mistake he had committed in his life. He let out a gasping cry and collapsed onto his bed, gnarled hands clenched. But Tasia was already gone.

49: TASIA TAMBLYN

49TASIA TAMBLYN

In a huff, her mind made up, Tasia strode along the edge of the ice shelf, stomping so hard that her insulated boots left indentations in the frozen ground. Looking out over the metal-dark waters of the hidden sea, she kept remembering her big brother Ross.

He had had the courage to stand up to their father’s unreasonable stubbornness. He had been brave and confident, and he had proved himself with the undeniable success of the Blue Sky Mine. He would have married Cesca Peroni. Tasia was incredibly proud of him for what he had done, despite her father’s insistent lack of support.

But the malicious alien destroyers had ruined everything. They had wrecked his marvelous skymine, and they had taken Ross’s life.

Now Tasia had the chance to do something to avenge him. Technically, it should have been her father’s responsibility—or better yet, Jess’s—but they were both concerned about the family business. Perhaps rightly so. Her uncles would keep everything running, the supplies delivered, the products flowing.

She didn’t blame them, but she had to make her own decisions. With absolute conviction, she knew she was right; her father and brother would come to see that in time. The Guiding Star showed every Roamer his or her life’s path, and Tasia saw her course plainly. If anyone from the Tamblyn clan was going to take action against the alien enemy, maybe it needed to be her.

She took a deep breath and blew out a cloud of steam. The skin on her cheeks was crackling cold, but she refused to pull a hood over her head. The waters of the ocean were still and thick. She saw no sign of the singing nematodes that had appeared at the funeral, nor could she spot any sooty debris from the floating pyre.

She tossed a chunk of ice as far out into the water as she could. She and her brothers had done that together many times when they were younger; Ross could skip a flat ice chip six times before it came to a stop. Now, her shard struck with a hollow thunk, then bobbed back to the surface, surrounded by an expanding chorus of ripples.