Shrugging, Eight lowers the antler and BK takes it in his jaws. He flops over onto his back and begins to roll back and forth. He emits a happy purring sound that definitely doesn’t go with his dog form. In fact, his form begins to flicker in and out, almost as if he’s having trouble controlling himself.

“He’s so weird!” Nine is laughing hysterically. “If we weren’t on the run, I would totally put this on the internet.”

“Whoa, whoa,” John says, rubbing his temples. “Calm down, BK.”

Malcolm looks from BK to John. “You can communicate with him?”

“Yeah,” John answers. “Telepathically. So can Nine. He’s pretty wound up. He says the antler is—I don’t know how to put it, it’s coming through in a weird language—like, a totem or something. For Chimæra.”

“Well, he’s our only Chimæra, so he can keep it,” says Eight, grinning as he crouches down to rub BK’s belly.

“Ella came here on a ship filled with Chimæra,” I say. “Do you think we could use that to attract them? Maybe they’re lost and need to know where to find us.”

Malcolm immediately starts writing on his clipboard. “Very good thought, Marina.”

I smile, feeling a little swell of pride. Now if I could only figure out what the stuff in my Chest does.

“If you’re looking for boring nature-themed crap, I’ve got this,” Nine says, holding up a small leather pouch. He passes it around and we each look inside. It’s filled with rich, chocolate-brown soil. “When Sandor was explaining my Inheritance, he told me it was meant for growing things. But that we wouldn’t need it for a long while.”

Nine reties the leather strings at the top of the pouch and dismissively tosses it back in his Chest. I guess he’s not all that interested in things that can’t kill Mogadorians. I look through my Chest, brushing aside the assortment of gems that could’ve funded my Spanish version of Nine’s penthouse if Adelina had cared, looking for anything that might have to do with restarting Lorien.

“What about this?” I ask, holding up a slim vial of crystal-clear water. The glass is cool to the touch beneath my fingers.

“Drink it,” suggests Nine.

Malcolm shakes his head. “I’d advise against ingesting any of the items in your Chests until we know what they do.”

“You listening?” Eight elbows Nine. “Don’t eat any of the rocks.”