“Some welcoming committee,” I say, glancing at Adam. He watches his people mass on the monitor, swallows hard and unbuckles himself from the pilot’s seat.

“All right, I’ll go first. Lead them away somehow. You guys get into the Sanctuary.”

“I don’t like this,” Marina says. “There’s a lot of them.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adam says. “Just get inside and do what you have to do.”

With that, Adam opens the cockpit and hops onto the Skimmer’s hull. There are about thirty Mogadorians down below, waiting on him, with more walking over from the tents. Marina and I hunker down inside the Skimmer, my hand close to hers in case we need to go invisible.

“Who’s in charge here?” Adam yells, standing tall and rigid, again putting on his trueborn airs.

A tall female warrior dressed in a sleeveless black overcoat steps forward. She has two thick braids that start on the sides of her head and wrap around it, encircling the traditional Mogadorian tattoos on her scalp. Her hands are wrapped in dusty white bandages, like they’ve recently been injured or burned.

“I am Phiri Dun-Ra, trueborn daughter of the honorable Magoth Dun-Ra,” the warrior shouts to Adam. Her posture is nearly as imposing and rigid as his. “Why have you come here, Sutekh?”

Adam hops down from our ship, tossing his head to flip his hair out of his eyes.

“Orders from Beloved Leader himself. I am to inspect this site to prepare for his arrival.”

A tremor passes through the crowd when Adam mentions Setrákus Ra. Many of the Mogs exchange nervous glances. Phiri Dun-Ra, however, appears nonplussed. She strides forward, letting her blaster dangle idly next to her hip. Something tightens up in my stomach at the sight of her. The predatory way she moves, the glint in her eye like trouble could spark at any moment. She’s way sharper than the other Mog warriors I’ve encountered.

“Ah, Beloved Leader. Of course,” Phiri says. She waves to the temple in the distance. “What would you like to see first, sir?”

Adam takes a step towards the Mog camp and opens his mouth to speak. Smoothly, without warning, Phiri lifts her blaster and cracks Adam across the mouth with the handle. As he falls to the ground, the rest of the Mogadorians level their blasters at him in unison.

“How about the inside of a cell, traitor?” Phiri snarls, standing over Adam, her blaster pointed at his face.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

I EXTEND MY HAND TO MARINA AND SHE GRASPS it immediately. Invisible, we carefully climb out of the ship, synchronizing our movements. Behind us, I hear a sudden flapping of wings. Dust takes flight in the shape of a tropical bird, his wings flecked with gray. None of the Mogs notice him soar out of the cockpit, and they don’t hear Marina and me leap down to the ground.

They’re too distracted by the show Phiri Dun-Ra is putting on with Adam.

“I know your father, Sutekh,” Phiri is saying, projecting her voice so that the Mogs gathered in a semicircle around her and Adam can all hear. “He’s a bastard, but at least he’s noble. He believes in Mogadorian Progress.”