“Are you hungry?” Lark asked. “The Orin are a primarily agrarian species, though their diet has been forcibly altered somewhat. The soil, once quite rich, has grown less fertile over the years—one of many unfortunate consequences of the mining—but I can see what I can manage. Perhaps there are some slurks to be had.”

“Slurks?” Leo repeated.

“Rock worms. They are the only food that the Orin hunt. During the day the worms burrow deep underground to escape the heat, but at night they surface. The Orins’ ears are attuned to the sounds they make as they emerge. They cut off the heads and suck out the innards, which are rich in nutrients, though sometimes I have seen them make a kind of stew from them as well.”

Suddenly Boo’s butt-crack bread didn’t sound so bad.

“Told you there’d be worms,” Baz whispered.

Kat ignored him, bypassing the small talk and getting straight to the point. “No offense, Lark, is it? But we didn’t come all the way out here to suck the guts out of slurks.”

“No. You came here looking for Zirkus Crayt,” the Aykari said. “And you have come to the right place.”

Leo nearly jumped to his feet. “Wait. You mean he’s here?” he spouted. Leo noticed that his excitement had garnered the attention of all the Orin, who had paused in their work, staring at him. He brought his voice back down. “So you know him? You can take us to him?”

Lark nodded. “Crayt and I are well acquainted. He is not far. And I can take you. But perhaps I could ask why you are looking for him? This planet does not draw many visitors. Not since the mining operations ceased. In fact, you are the first outsiders the Orin have seen in some time.”

“We have something to give him,” Leo said quickly. “It’s a message from my father. And some pla—Yeow!”

Leo glared at Baz, who had just pinched his leg underneath the table. The captain glared right back, a look that said you talk too much.

“What my cabin boy means to say is that we need to speak with Zirkus Crayt personally about a strictly confidential matter,” Baz interjected. “One that doesn’t concern anyone but him. Though, if you don’t mind us asking, what are you doing here? Looks like your people picked up and left town some time ago. Did these furry little worm-suckers make you their god or something? Are you See-Threepio-ing them?”

“I am unfamiliar with your expression,” Lark said. “But I assure you my intentions toward the Orin are not malicious in any way. If anything it is I who look up to them. They are honest and hardworking, loyal and kind. And as to your first question, as you can see, their world has been left in shambles. So I am helping to rebuild it.”

“Rebuild, huh,” Baz echoed, arms crossed, mouth pursed. “And who was it that trashed it to begin with?”

Lark didn’t answer immediately. For Baz, that was answer enough.