He knew he’d been walking for a while, however, because his feet were barking and his legs were turning to jelly. His lips were chapped and his throat was parched. It seemed like every drop of moisture his body once contained had been sucked into his shirt or absorbed into the band of his Coalition underwear. Kat’s jacket had come off long ago and was now draped over one shoulder.

They’d put the broken village behind them, venturing deeper and deeper into the yellow-pink scrublands, the entire landscape the color of an old bruise. Leo marveled at the plants that managed to sprout from the cracked ground, some of them sporting vibrant, unearthly patterns, rich pomegranate purples and almost iridescent oranges. On Earth that probably would have meant they were poisonous, but this wasn’t Earth. So far from it.

Leo knew it wasn’t fair to compare everything to his planet, but he couldn’t help it. It was, after all, the only home he’d ever known, not counting the Beagle, which he didn’t, despite the plaque that read FENDER sitting on a shelf in his cabin. A starship wasn’t a home—though he would never tell Baz that. A home needed a foundation. It needed an address that didn’t change with every passing second, first one orbit and then the next. Home was getting snowed in and having to miss school. Home was an old-fashioned wood-burning fireplace. Home was being able to sit and watch a sunset and pretend it had actually moved and not you, tucking itself in for the night.

He yearned for it. It was a throbbing ache, bone-deep. This gnawing desire to be back in his house in Colorado, sitting in the family room with Amos curled and purring on his lap, Gareth sprawled out on the floor, Mom and Dad huddled together on the other end of the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between them. Of course it couldn’t be. Not like that, at least. The Djarik had made sure of it, but it could still be something. Something good.

Up ahead Lark continued to lead the way, Baz and Kat keeping some distance behind, no doubt also keeping a close watch on their guide. Leo was in favor of exercising caution. If the last few days had taught him anything it was that the Aykari couldn’t be trusted.

Who do you trust, Leo?

Not Lark, that was for sure.

“This planet sucks. I don’t like it.”

Leo glanced over at Skits. The two of them brought up the rear, Leo because he was lost inside his own head again, and the robot because her treads struggled over the uneven terrain. Leo tried not to think about the fact that there were also things called slurks lurking somewhere beneath his feet.

“There’s nothing out here,” Skits continued. “This place is a total wasteland. And those creatures back there are creepy, with their pointed ears and their purple skin and gray hair. And their eyes are way too big for their faces. I feel like they’re always watching me.”