Petrona bent her knee and picked up some gravel. She sifted it between her fingers.

"They've been here," she said.

"Who's been here?" Darbin asked.

"The Ministry of Death."

"That is what I most fear."

"Don't fear, just hear."

"This isn't the time for your poetry Petr--"

Petrona shoved a mocdev into Darbin's gruff hands.

Darbin stared at the marvel of tech.

"You've had this the whole time?"

"Neverind that now, we've run out of time."

Petrona picked up her pack and loaded it onto the glider.

Just then, a shot ricochetted off the hull.

"Let's GO!"

Darbin shook his head and hopped into the back seat.

Petrona revved up the engine and kicked it into gear. The glider dove down the hill, both riders huddled low while gunfire flew just over their heads. Whiz. Ping! Ting!

Darbin looked back to see two Ministers hop unto their glides.

"Go, go, go! Around that boulder, there!"

Petrona took a hard turn, the glider pivoted and Darbin held on to her waist to keep from flying off.

Pack. Pack. Pack!

"Use the moc! Now!" Petrona cried.

Darbin flipped the safety on the mocdev and tossed it into a crevise in the boulder.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Petrona flipped the gravlev and they shot into the air.

BOOM! The boulder blew apart, knocking the ministers from their glides.

"Into there!" Darbin shouted, pointing a thick finger at the high window of the Balzarin tower.

"Got it, hang on tight!"

"Shug, I don't have the wares you do Petra! Just regular ol' human strength!"

"You'll make it."

Petrona turned in her seat, letting go control of the glider, and hugged Darbin tight as the glider crashed sideways into the tower window.

Darbin and Petrona rolled out and slid across a sleek obsidian tiled floor.

Patrona hopped to her feet. "Well, we're here now."

Darbin bent over grasping his knees and breathing heavy. "Yah--" He huffed. "Made it."

"There was a carver here, where did it go?"

Patrona tossed a drawer. "It's gone."

"--Or moved."

Darius hugged the dresser and dragged it back, the ornate wood screeching across the hard tiles.

"Thought so." He raised the carver and squeezed the trigger between the bow, a sizzling string of light connected the top and the bottom.

Petrona looked at Darbin and raised a questioning brow.

"It must have been on top the desk, the blast from our landing blew it behind."

She nodded. "If that's true then that means someone had that thing out. Look for the Balzarin."

"Why do you give me all the easy jobs?"

"You're right, I should do it myself--"

"Stop with that!" Darbin grunted and scanned the room.

"Where is he, do you see him?"

"Her, and yes. She's just behind that pillar. Just one."

Darbin and Petrona moved in unison, rounding the pillar from either side.

"Don't shoot!" A Balzarin woman, blue skinned with green peircing eyes, lay flat on the ground, hands placed over her head.

"Zefna!" Darbin gripped the Balzarin woman's arm and hoisted her up.

Petrona's shoulders relaxed. "Zefna."

(Cont)