Chapter 44: Living isn’t the same as surviving.

“PETE?” NIGEL DROPPED from the tree, landing softly. Eyes scanning, he looked around for the royal. “The heart of a centroid is in its tongue.” He glanced into the bushes where Pete had disappeared. “It’s dead, mate. It’s cactus.”

From behind him, the Dagerstanteen scrambled out of a tangle of thorny plants, then stumbled to his feet, wobbly. The bloke shook uncontrollably, like a thin twig caught in a raging ...