As Eva wiped away the tears, she could see that Zin was flustered. He buzzed about the lab, talking to himself. The taxidermist also noted this peculiar change in behavior. “Do you want me to continue, Curator?” he asked.

“No!” Zin fluttered back up to the cell. “No. I require a live study of this species Eva Nine. Yes. Please have it delivered promptly to my study. . . . No. Never mind. Release the specimen now, and I shall personally escort it to my study immediately.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” the taxidermist said, his remote aimed at the cell. “But the queen just ordered—”

“Yes, yes,” Zin snapped. “I shall take personal responsibility and inform Her Majesty of my amendment to her commands regarding the future of this individual.”

“Whatever you say.” The taxidermist hit another button on another control. The rod in Eva’s cell sank back into the floor, and the walls returned to a jellylike membrane. Eva hopped out.

With red-splotched eyes and a runny nose, she faced Zin and asked, “Now what?”

He grabbed her effects, including the Omnipod. “Now you shall accompany me, Eva Nine.”

CHAPTER 30: HOPE

Before we continue, I need assurances that you shall be respectful of my study,” Zin said, floating down the dimly lit hall. They approached a door identical to the one that had led to the taxidermy lab. “Give your word, Eva Nine: no mischief.”

“Yes,” Eva said, happy to be out of the horrible lab. “I won’t wreck your study. You have my word.”

“Very good,” Zin replied as he waved a hand over a central eye on the door, causing the door to slide open. “You may enter.”

“I’ll tell you about the glyph, but before we continue . . .” Eva paused at the doorway, looking him up and down. “Give me your word that you’ll help me out of here.”

“I will aid in your release by all available means,” Zin replied, crossing his arms. “You have my word.”

Eva nodded and stepped into Zin’s grand chamber. The domed skylighted room was darkened, as twilight stained the world outside in a deep blue. Gigantic tuliplike fixtures ringed the work space, their exteriors crisscrossed with numerous diamond-shaped pull drawers. A low, wide circular table dominated the center of the study, and was covered with preserved plants, animals, artifacts, and various tools. Directly overhead an impressive chandelier hung from the latticework ceiling, reminding Eva of a curled starfish, with each tiny tube foot emitting a glow of candlelight.

“Please, allow me to remove these,” Zin said, cutting Eva’s binds. “This is Morrenia laquem, or straintwine as it is commonly referred to.” He placed the cords that had bound her onto his worktable. “It’s an indigenous plant species whose stems naturally contract when one pulls against them. Quite an ingenious defense against would-be herbivores.”