Chapter 13

The ride to the great citadel of Windmere was long and hard, but it seemed to pass in a blur.

The great birds, which Bix learned were called skim runners, ran tirelessly and handled the terrain

better than anything man-made everlessly, and handled the terrain better than

anything man-made ever could, and they managed to stay ahead of the Slaughterth Rescue Party all the way to a long,

narrow canyon, protected by a massive force-shield barrier. The raw energy of the shield crackled

to life behind them, and Thera dropped her eyes in defeat and would not speak again.

The city itself was breathtaking, a collection of gold and spires that blazed in the light of the sunset.

Jack Sarr proudly pointed out features as they rode through the street past cheering citizens,

as if delighted to show visitors the wonders of his home.

Every building, every walkway, every inch of public space was covered in photosynthetic cells,

absorbing solar energy and creating the power that made things like the shield wall possible.

To Bix, it was like a visit to some perfect future. Yet it had all felt somehow shabby,

like these wonders were built in the days before the universe came calling, and the planet had

become an engine of war and resistance. In his heart, Bix knew that the planet Grathol had been

much further along in its development 80 years ago than Earth was now, and that if he

failed in his mission, his home world would never be able to resist occupation for as long as these

people had. They were taken from the mounts that had carried them across the badlands and

surrounded by jade-skinned soldiers, all under the command of Jaxar, who ordered that they

be treated with respect

and prepared for royal audience. It seemed, for the moment, that there was no immediate danger,

and Bix realized for the first time how long it had been since the last time that were true,

...