Still… I decided to follow the smashed-down trail. If nothing else, I could make better time taking the flattened path than trying to pick my way through the brush.

Three minutes later, I heard noises ahead of me. Crashing. Something going WHUMP. Branches breaking.

I ran forward without thinking. The noises got louder: grunts and the clack of pincers closing on empty air. A warrior had just missed grabbing hold of somebody.

My eye caught a silvery glint on the trail in front of me: a stun-pistol tossed away. Usually, the guns have a green light telling when there’s enough juice in their batteries for another shot… but as I sprinted past, the light didn’t show the tiniest flicker. The stunner was completely tapped out, while up ahead some poor unarmed someone was trying to fight an angry warrior bare-handed.

The trail broke into a level clearing; and that was where the unarmed someone had decided to make a stand. It wasn’t a full navy recovery team — there was only one person, ducking away from a warrior even bigger than Zeeleepull. In the dark I could only see silhouettes, but that was enough to tell me the target under attack was a woman. She moved fast and dodgy, as if she’d done a fair bit of martial arts. Still, general combat training doesn’t teach you the specific ways to take down a Mandasar warrior… and a fight to the death isn’t the best time to start experimenting.

The warrior hadn’t noticed me yet. Even better, he had his back to me; and that meant his tail pointed in my direction. Since it worked so well before, I launched myself forward with a run and a dive, landing on the warrior’s shell and cinching my arm around his neck.

My move took both the warrior and the woman by surprise. She gasped, then dived to one side, out of my field of vision. I hoped she was going to put some distance between herself and the Mandasar’s feet, because he started to buck and bounce like crazy; if the woman didn’t get clear, she’d be trampled to paste.

"Keep back," I told her, half-whispering for fear of being heard by someone back at the canal… which was crazy because the warrior was shouting his head off. "Don’t worry," I said to the woman, "it’ll be okay."

I hoped that was true. This ride was ten times worse than my scuffle with Zeeleepull; the warrior beneath me had worked himself into frothing battle frenzy, not to mention he thought I wanted to kidnap his family. His neck may have pinched as my arm rubbed up and down the shell plates on his throat, but it would take more than a little chafing to make him surrender.

As the warrior hopped and heaved, I did too: flopping about on his back, waiting for him to get tired enough to slow down. It took a long, long time; at least it felt long, though maybe it was only a minute. At last I could feel him weaken to the point where he might actually be using his brain to think of new tactics… so I leaned forward again like I did with Zeeleepull, held the warrior’s snout shut and pushed my palm to seal over his nose. Speaking in Mandasar, I whispered, "I am Blood-Consort Edward York, last and rightful husband of Verity the Second, High Queen and Supreme Ruler of all those who tread the Blessed Land. If you fear her name, you will yield; if not, be named her enemy and pay the price of your folly."

They were the same words that came out of my mouth earlier in the day. This time, though, I was just reciting from memory — it wasn’t like before, when I felt like something had possessed me. Still, if the speech worked once, it might work again… and with luck, the warrior would catch a faint whiff of queen’s venom on my hand.

Slowly, the Mandasar stopped struggling. I couldn’t tell if he was just tired, or if maybe my words and smell had cut through the battle rage. Whatever it was, he finally eased to a standstill. I kept my arm around his throat but let go of his nose so he could breathe. For a few seconds, both of us did nothing but suck in air.

Close by my side, a soft voice whispered, "Damn, it’s good to see that black uniform. Thank God there’s always an Explorer when you need one."

I turned my head… and nearly screamed. There in the shadows was the admiral woman who’d died kissing me — face splotch and all.

The dead woman had come back, wrapped in thick midnight blackness — as if the only thing I could see was that smudge on her cheek. Terror jolted through me, and I hurled myself off the warrior onto the ground… anything to get away from some withered-up corpse who wanted to kiss me.

"What’s wrong?" the woman whispered.

I couldn’t answer — my whole body had clenched tight with fear. I might have just lain there, gibbering and quivering, if the warrior hadn’t given his pincers an angry clack. He heaved himself up to full height, giving the woman a sneer before turning toward me. I was the one who’d hurt him. The look in his eye said he wanted to hurt me back.

"Hold on," the woman told the warrior. "Stop fighting and let’s talk."

The warrior ignored her. "Bleed you, recruiter," he growled at me in English. "Suffer you, as our people have suffered."

One second I was sprawled on the ground, still trembling at the thought of ghosts; the next, I was on my feet, with my hands wrapped around the warrior’s nose-spike. The move wasn’t my doing — something had taken charge of my body again, making my legs leap forward without orders from my brain. My arms had gone all strong too, strong enough to drag the warrior’s nose toward me the way I’d dragged Zeeleepull… except that I pulled him toward my chest instead of my face. That was crazy. I’d never got venom on my chest. There was just my shirt, wet from my swim across the canal and sweaty from the hours of fever.

"You know who I am," my mouth said in Mandasar. "You know what I am. You know."

The warrior’s eyes narrowed, as if he was about to ram his snout forward — stab his nose-spike through my ribs. Then his whole face changed, opening wide with wonderment. "Teelu" he whispered.

Your Majesty.

If I’d had control over my body, I would have blurted out, "No, no, no." You never use the word Teelu for anyone but a Mandasar queen — Teelu is way too worshipful to waste on a mere consort. But the poor kid was so ignorant about his own culture, he didn’t know better.

The moment I let go of him, he dropped his body to the ground, pressing his nose into the dirt. "Teelu… Teelu… Teelu…"

Which was a whole lot better than trying to kill me. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to correct his vocabulary.

"I’m impressed," the admiral woman said.

Fright chilled me again, and I retreated a step — I was back in command of my body, and feeling a strong urge to bolt into the dark. But I swallowed hard and made myself say something half-intelligible. "Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Admiral Festina Ramos," she said. The same name she’d used before we crossed the line. "What’s your name?"

"Edward." Talking to an admiral, I should have been way more military: Explorer Second Class Edward York, reporting for duty! But my mouth was too dry with fear. "I saw you die," I said. "On the Willow."

The admiral shook her head. "I’ve never been on the Willow. And I’ve never died — I’d remember something like that." She stared at me a moment. "Was that your ship then? The Willow?"

I nodded.

"Why did you have to evacuate?"

"Someone was stealing it," I said. "I hated just to run, but Explorer Tobit told me—"

"Tobit?" the admiral interrupted "Phylar Tobit?"

"Yes."

"Which means Jacaranda is in this system?"

"It was for a while," I answered. "It might have gone chasing the black ship."

"Bloody hell," the admiral muttered, "I hate it when Prope’s in the neighborhood. She takes her orders from Admiral Vincence; and Vincence is the slipperiest schemer on the whole High Council."