Lexa puts us on an angle so that our exit ramp will open towards the falls. That means no threats will be able to come from behind us, and we’ll be able to use the ship for cover if this is an ambush. Any Mogs looking to attack us will be coming from the small patch of evergreen forest to the north. That little forest is half-flooded by the river as it rages its way towards the falls, so we should have an advantage if we keep to the solid ground.

“Ready?” Lexa asks.

I nod, and she deploys the ramp. No one starts shooting. I’m not sure I’d hear blaster fire over the cacophony of the waterfall anyway.

“Adam should be on the comm,” I say to Lexa. “Call in, tell him we’ve arrived and see if he’s picked up any Mog chatter. Otherwise, keep the ship ready to haul ass in case we need to leave in a hurry.”

“You got it,” Lexa replies.

I extend my arm, and Regal immediately lands on my forearm, his talons careful not to clutch too tightly.

“Scout it out,” I tell the Chimæra, and he swoops away, through the exit and into the blue sky. I start towards the ramp after him, motioning to Daniela. “Come on, get up front with me. Anything that seems hostile, go ahead and turn it to stone.”

Daniela smirks, but I can tell that she’s nervous. “Let’s do this.”

With Daniela and me leading the way, we edge our way down the ramp. I glance to the side quickly, sensing motion, but it’s just Sam picking up a jagged rock from the river with his telekinesis.

He shrugs at me. “In case I need to clobber someone,” he says quietly.

Daniela’s gaze darts about as we make our way around the front of our ship and approach the burned-up Skimmer. Bandit trundles alongside us as we move slowly north. The raccoon has gotten bigger since we landed, puffed up, his claws now a vicious length. He scratches at the dirt, ready to charge at the first sight of danger. His claws kick up a chalky gray substance that I immediately recognize.

Mogadorian ash. Pretty fresh, considering it hasn’t all blown away yet. And there, next to the ash, the left-behind weapons of some killed vatborn. There was definitely a fight here, and the Mogs took casualties.

“The newbies did some damage,” I say.

“No kidding,” Sam replies, eyeing the smoking Skimmer. On closer examination, it looks like a grenade went off right in the ship’s cockpit. Something exploded, that’s for sure. I’m just not sure what.

I glance behind us and see Ella drifting away from our tight little group. She’s headed towards the Loralite stone, which would put her right out in the open.

“Ella,” I hiss. “Stay close.”

She waves at me without looking away from the stone. “I’ll be fine, Six.”

Sam and I exchange a look.

“I guess you get pretty daring when you can see the future,” Sam says.

“Or when you’ve already died once,” I reply.

Trusting that Ella can take care of herself, I lead the others cautiously towards the woods. We pass by the Skimmer that landed safely, then edge closer to the river and the Skimmer that’s been flipped into the depths. Daniela puts a hand on my arm.

“You hear that?”

At first, I don’t hear anything except the water. But then I make out a droning buzz, high-pitched and incessant. I squint at the Skimmer in the river. It looks blurry, strange somehow. . . .

Bugs. Even half-submerged in water, the Mogadorian ship is covered by a swarm of bugs. There have to be thousands of them, bees and gnats and flies and who knows what else, darting in and out of the engine vents, crawling over the armored hull. They only break away when the river water laps at them.

“The beekeeper at work,” Sam says.

“Has to be,” I agree, then motion us forward. I’m feeling a lot more confident about this mission. In fact, it doesn’t seem to be a rescue at all.

From above, ringing out over the pounding waves and the buzzing bugs, comes a piercing shriek. A falcon’s cry. Regal sending up a warning.

“The hell is that?” Daniela yelps, pointing into the sky.

From the tree line, a glowing object was just lobbed directly towards us. It floats through the air on an impossible arc—there’s telekinesis guiding it, for sure. If I had to guess, I’d say someone just tossed a pinecone at us. Except I’ve never seen one pulsing red waves of crimson energy like this one.

A vision of the blown-up Skimmer we just walked by suddenly comes to mind.

“Shoot that,” I say to Daniela.

I didn’t have to bother; she’s already on it. A silver-tinged current of energy bursts forth from Daniela’s eyes—the force of it actually looks painful, and Daniela gasps when it happens. Her aim is true, though, and the glowing pinecone is soon just a hunk of stone flying through the sky.