“Immersion protocol dictates we speak English while on Earth, you vatborn cretin,” Adam replies coldly. He draws himself up in his chair, suddenly so regal that I kinda want to slap him. “You are addressing Adamus Sutekh, trueborn son of General Andrakkus Sutekh. I am on urgent business from my father. Lead me to the Loric site immediately.”

I have to give it to Adam, he’s an excellent bullshitter. The scout’s expression goes from annoyance to confusion and finally to outright fear.

“Yes, sir, right away,” the scout replies, and in response Adam immediately cuts off the conversation. One by one, the Skimmers break up the ring they had us trapped inside and let us get back on course.

“That worked,” Marina says, sounding a little stunned as she lets go of my hand.

“For now,” Adam replies, frowning uncertainly. “He was low ranking. Whoever’s in command will be a different story.”

“Can’t you just tell them your dad sent you down here to check their progress?” I ask.

“Assuming they don’t know I betrayed our people and that my father essentially sentenced me to die? Yeah, that might work.”

“You only need to distract them for a little bit,” I say. “Long enough for Marina and me to figure a way into the Sanctuary.”

“There it is,” Marina says, watching through the window as the Skimmers begin to descend towards Calakmul.

There are a bunch of ancient little buildings below, all of them constructed from limestone that’s been eroding for centuries, the jungle creeping in to reclaim them. My eyes are drawn to the huge pyramid-shaped temple that towers over them all; built on a low hill, the temple is blocky, covered in steep and crumbling staircases that are chiseled right into the stone. I can’t quite make it out from this distance, but there appears to be some kind of door at the top of the pyramid.

“How much you want to bet we need to climb up to that thing?” I say.

“It’s the Sanctuary,” Marina replies. “I’m certain of it.”

“So are my people, obviously,” Adam says.

The Mogadorians have cleared the jungle around the Sanctuary in a perfect ring, the trees all chopped down, an entire fleet of Mogadorian scout ships parked on the naked soil. Besides the dozens of Skimmers, I can make out an array of tents where the Mogs must be camping. There’s also what looks to be a couple of heavy-duty missile launchers and blaster turrets, all of these weapons aimed at the temple, and yet the structure looks completely untouched. Oddly, at the base of the temple and creeping up the sides, there are still overgrown trees and vines, untended for years. It’s a stark contrast to the severe neatness of the Mogadorian perimeter, where everything natural has been cleared away.

“It’s like something kept them from getting too close,” Marina says, noticing the same thing as me.

“Malcolm did say that only the Garde could enter,” I reply.

Our escort of Mog ships float down to the makeshift airfield and Adam lands a few yards away from them. The Sanctuary looms in the distance. The only thing standing between us and the Loric temple is a strip of wide-open land and a small army of Mogadorians, many of whom have begun gathering in the airfield, all of them armed with blasters.