Deeper in, the Quiet Ship's interior didn't get any more comforting.

Benja found the ceilings uncomfortably low, crowding his head. There was no illumination. No light switches. The air felt too warm; every breath tasted stale like a tomb.

"Let's brighten things up a little, shall we?" Flicking his fingers, Benja conjured a white-hot orb and sent it forward ahead of them.

Set at the temperature of Pake's sun, the little floating orb flooded the ...