“Welcome, Villagers, to the capital of my kingdom!!” Governor Gusteau announced. The crowd went wild. The emphasis on the word my did not escape Dalia’s attention, and she rolled her eyes in disgust. He charms his way into a monarchy of the planet and poisoned the minds of the people against a senate. And now he thinks Rarogan is his planet. As if we weren’t banished here generations ago.

“It is my wonderful privilege and honor to see faces from all the one-hundred-and-forty Villages, each one representing the vast tribulations and trials we endured to make Rarogan safe for future generations.” The crowd cheered again. Somewhere in the crowd was a shrill whistle. Disguised as applause, but Dalia knew Aidan’s whistle anywhere. He just returned with Arianna with news from Kayla.

Dalia sighed. As the rightful princess of her people, Kayla remained secluded underground, despite the radiant light of the Jewel of Laridal beaming from her. Instead of rushing for the ticket offworld like Kayla expected, most of her people were stuck in rancor because she had exiled them there in the first place.

“My daughter is dead because of you!” “How could you leave what you had?” “If the king is willing to banish all of us for your mistake, then I don’t see any reason to return to him.” “We don’t need a king to save us; this is our life now and we’re accepting it. Move on.”

The Village Warriors and Lawmakers and Onkrons rose up against Kayla and the Outcasts. Kayla fought valiantly, but despite her efforts, they were driven into hiding once Scarlett and Devin were murdered. Many a long night afterward, Kayla wept in a private chamber beneath the Challenges, pleading with Ezra (Salus, she called him) on behalf of her people. Ezra had allowed a second chance for all those willing to touch the Jewel of Laridal, but the problem was getting people to believe it could get them offworld.

Governor Gusteau raised a hand to silence the raucous crowd. “Together, we have driven back anything keeping us from a perfect utopia. We were banished here for torture, but we can make this a place of peace and comfort. No more raptors. No more wolves. No more creatures period. No more quicksand. No more lava. No more Onkrons. No more Outcast. And no more king. We don’t need a galactic king we never see to serve. We can govern ourselves, and under my leadership, I hereby have a proposition for you.”

The crowd hushed in anticipation. Dread filled Dalia’s veins. She glanced across the square at Esther. She arched her eyebrows in a I-told-you-so way. Once again, Dalia asked to see the battle, and the sheer number of Onkrons flocking to the square now was spine-tingling. They had their work cut out for them.

“I have discovered a clue to the location of the most powerful weapon on Rarogan,” the Governor exclaimed. “I have my best agents trying to crack it now, but once they do, we’ll be on our way to conquering this planet for ourselves.” The crowd applauded with a mighty roar. “But why stop there?! Why not conquer quadrants and sectors of this galaxy? After all we’ve been through, the Nobility deserve what’s coming for them. I, hereby, declare war on the Nobility and the malevolent king who leads them. And we will not stop until we rule everything.”

The mob yelled at the top of their lungs, and Dalia began to feel light-headed. She had not foreseen these events occurring. Chills shivered up and down her spine, and she knew she needed backup.

The tree rustled, and Travis appeared next to her. “You okay, honey?”

Her lip quivered as she gazed on the rebellious uprising below. “We need to get Kayla.”

Travis nodded. “Get a head-start on the clues and beat them to the weapon. Possibly destroy it before they can lay their hands on it.”

“Do you really think they can beat Ezra and his father?” Dalia asked. “They couldn’t beat him last time.”

“No, but they are gonna destroy themselves along the way,” Travis said. “We owe it to Kayla to save her people from destruction.”

“Our people,” Dalia nodded. She planted a fist on her heart. “Live, fight, love, save.”

Travis repeated the gesture. “Sam’s out with notes of the Governor’s recent journal entries. C’mon, we’re meeting at Nosebleed.”