Boo shrugged. “I suppose they will find out,” he said.

The captain nodded. “Lucky them.”

Leo knew he meant it.

I pledge my allegiance to planet Earth and all of its citizens. To protect and preserve our way of life. To advance human achievement and understanding. To defend ourselves and our allies against all enemies. To sacrifice all that is necessary to ensure peace and prosperity for this world and all worlds and peoples who share these beliefs. With unity, freedom, and justice for all.

—United Peoples of Earth Pledge

The Flight of the Icarus

THE LAST TIME LEO SAW EARTH, HE WAS HOLDING Gareth’s hand.

They stood with their father aboard the Beagle’s observation deck, a sort of promenade complete with couches and tables and a gigantic viewport the size of Leo’s old garage. Each of the Fenders was stiffly dressed in a new Coalition uniform. They itched terribly.

“Take a good look, boys,” their father said. “I’m not sure when we will see her next.”

Leo still couldn’t believe how smooth and flat it looked from this far away. How perfectly round, when on the surface it was canyons and mountains, undulating desert valleys and rolling hills. The white clouds looked like so much bundled scar tissue, and the water, clear when cupped in his hands and green when he stood at the ocean’s edge, seemed unnaturally blue from here. It looked so beautiful—and so small and fragile—that Leo longed to reach through the viewport and pinch it between his fingers, secreting it away in his pocket for safekeeping. “We will see her, though, right?” he said. “We are coming back.”

His father laid an arm across Leo’s shoulders. It was meant to be reassuring. It felt uncomfortable instead. Much too heavy. “Of course we will see her again,” he said. His voice sounded convincing enough.

“And Amos?”

“And Amos, naturally. Mrs. Tinsley will probably be thrilled to see us. She’s going to get tired of him scratching up all her nice furniture.”

That was an inevitability, Leo knew. Amos had all of his claws and made his mark on every exposed leg he could find, whether wood or flesh. “She won’t get rid of him, though, will she?”

Dr. Fender shook his head. “No. No. Of course not. She’ll take good care of him.”

Leo wasn’t so sure. Amos could run away. Become a stray. Be taken by one of the coyotes that escaped from the mountains now swarming with Aykari survey and excavation teams and started living off whatever they could find in the towns below. There was no telling what could happen now that Leo wasn’t there to look after him.

And it was his fault. Leo had left him. Somewhere down on that perfect blue sphere. He had left everything. His school. His friends. His house. His room. Most of his possessions, save for a couple of magic tricks and a handful of seashells.