memories between them, memories only they had.
And for the first time, Jaxor felt hope. For the first time, Jaxor saw the future that he wanted.
The next morning, the plan was set into motion. In exchange for exile, not execution, the warrior male responsible for shielding the Jetutians’ entry into Luxiria’s atmosphere three times in the past five rotations—Jaxor didn’t care to remember the warrior’s name—told them when the planned meeting would take place on the surface. The male was placed under careful guard, so he could not alert the Mevirax to their plans, and his final act as a warrior of Luxiria would be allowing their most reviled enemy entry, as planned.
During one of the multiple and endless meetings with the council, they’d realized that their only opportunity for accessing the vaccine was to ensure the Jetutians landed on Luxirian soil. The elders on the council had been fiercely against it, but Vaxa’an had eventually made them see reason. Erin’s rescue was obviously pressing…but the vaccine was an opportunity they could not squander.
The exchange would take place near the Caves of the Pevrallix, a half-span journey by hovercraft. Early in the morning, Vaxa’an, Jaxor, three of the Ambassadors—Lihvan, Cruxan, and Rixavox—and nearly a hundred of the Golden City’s best warriors took to their hovercrafts and then the sky. Kirov and Vikan, the remaining two Ambassadors, would remain behind in the Golden City as a precaution. Another hundred warriors were prepared to leave at a moment’s notice and would travel to the Caves of the Pevrallix as the night drew near in case their swords were needed.
As the hovercrafts passed the shining terraces of the Golden City, cheers raised into the sky, but Vaxa’an’s face remained grim. When Jaxor looked at the place he’d once called home, he saw crowds had gathered to see them off, lining the terraces, the courtyards, the marketplaces. Many were relieved that Vaxa’an was finally taking action against the Mevirax. But not many knew that the Jetutians were also involved in this plot. Only the warriors did. Only the warriors knew what was at stake if they failed.
The Mevirax numbers had grown considerably since their defection from the Golden City. And while a hundred of the best-trained Luxirian warriors should be enough to subdue them, Jaxor didn’t know how many Jetutians Po’grak would bring with him, an unknown variable. One of many.
He flew in one hovercraft with Vaxa’an and two warrior guards. He assumed the council had placed them there because they still didn’t trust Jaxor’s intentions, as if he was leading all of them into a trap. The guards eyed him warily whenever Vaxa’an’s back was turned, but Jaxor paid them no mind. He knew—Vaxa’an knew—that he was not lying.
He would have to come to terms with the fact that it was a possibility no one would fully trust him again. Especially Erin.
His fists clenched at his sides. They still had a long journey to the Caves of the Pevrallix, but he knew that every moment brought him closer to her.
Chapter Forty
Erin had just finished vomiting into the basin Kossira had left for her when she heard familiar footsteps begin to descend the stairs. Erin shivered, feeling her nausea rise again, and she held her breath so that the stench wouldn’t make her hurl again.
Shakily, she climbed to her feet, unsteady and weaving slightly. But it wasn’t Kossira that appeared. It was Tavar and the guard.
This is it, she knew. She thought that it would make her nervous, but all she felt was numbness. Tiredness. When she’d first woken in her prison, she’d only had thoughts of leaving. When she’d learned of Jaxor’s betrayal, she’d only had thoughts of him, memories of him, of them, replaying everything in her mind until she passed out from exhaustion—looking for something that would give her perspective, that would make her understand why he’d done it. And now...
She remembered Kossira’s warning the night before. In her jumbled mind, still feeling the burn of stomach acid at the back of her throat, she tried to recall if Kossira had said to turn right or left after the white door on the Jetutian vessel.
Tavar opened the gate, his lip curling in distaste when he saw her. He hadn’t come since that first day. The days and nights had started to blur together.
Kossira had tried to keep her clean and fed. Most mornings, she brought a fresh basin of water and a clean cloth and wiped down her body. But she was