Page 12 of Interstellar Love Song (Villains in Space #3)
“You have.” The Hy Phae nodded decisively, since even an insidious bodysnatcher couldn’t hide from a Groot Guru. “If you would simply open your mind, I could?—”
“No!” Ziggy boomed, leaping to his feet with his hands clenched at his sides, glaring at the alien before us.
Can’t bring this one anywhere .
I was about to send my man a scolding psychic message—mental walls be damned—when I caught a taste of his emotions.
He’s… afraid.
Afraid for who?
My question was answered as his gaze fell on me before darting back to Sedo, the desperate expression on his face unmistakable. “I-I don’t want my stellar collision to see what I saw…”
What did he see?!
The Xuni stood and gestured for Ziggy to come closer. To my surprise, my fiercely independent mercenary obeyed without even a smidge of hesitation.
He’s been carrying it all himself this whole time…
“Do you know why we use petrified wood to enhance our connection with the collective well?” Sedo calmly asked, positioning their intricately carved staff between the two of them.
Ziggy shook his head and reached forward, although he paused with his hand centimeters from the staff.
“It is a grounding material that both roots us in the present moment and connects us to the greater cycle of life,” the Xuni replied, cranking that witchy woo up to level eleven.
“In some cases—like with my staff—the wood had been entirely replaced by metallic minerals, making it the perfect conduit.”
Ooh!
Geology nerd that I was, my tendrils were already reaching for the nearest piece of petrified wood to examine, but Zig had a very different reaction. He snatched his hand away, no doubt remembering when the Lacertus electrocuted his ass after thinking we planned to set Uuktar free.
Of course, Sedo noticed his reaction. “No electricity is involved, Stellarian. The only energy that will flow between us is the vision you share with me alone.”
Why doesn’t he want me to see?
It might have been the codependency talking, but I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us. We’d merged our consciousness— Ziggy lived inside me for chrissake! —and he’d already told me about his stressful dream.
Not all of it, apparently…
As salty as I felt, I still wanted to support my man through his latest existential crisis, so I blew out a breath and sent supportive vibes as he hesitantly wrapped his hand around the staff.
I expected a zen moment to follow—maybe Sedo releasing an “Om” for full primordial effect. Instead, the Hy Phae snatched their hand away with a hiss before stumbling backward.
“Stellaria… fell?” they gasped, blatant shock written on their stoic face.
What?!
Ziggy’s gaze shot to me before returning to the guru. “No. N-not… yet.”
Not ever .
“Zig…” I hustled over to comfort him, opting for the tried and true Stellarian supremacy angle. “You know no one can challenge Stellaria and win. It was just a stress-induced dream?—”
“No,” Sedo croaked, shakily sinking down onto their stool again. “That was a vision of the future—and an incredibly realistic one at that.”
Ziggy looked like he was about to lose his shit, so I wrapped my hand around the staff before anyone could stop me.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
This wasn’t just a nonsensical nightmare feeding on fears.
It was a visceral warzone, complete with full sensory overload.
Deafening screams rattled my eardrums, smoke clogged my nose and stung my eyes, and pure terror clouded my thoughts as I faced down a massive something looming over the entire planet.
Because it was me alone standing between life and death for Stellaria.
I would never be able to maintain a shield around an entire planet.
Which means… Zig saw me die…
Sedo’s staff clattering against the floor brought me back to the present as Ziggy yanked me into his arms.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered into my hair. “I just… I can’t lose you.”
Oh, Space Daddy .
“You won’t lose me, Zig,” I soothed, my voice muffled against his borrowed skin. “We’ll figure out a way to stop this before it happens.”
“It has already happened,” Sedo rasped, bringing our attention back to them. “Not on Stellaria but close by, in this galaxy. We received a transmission earlier today, from a community of Eki who had seceded from Ekistron—to a planet they called Kanrienus.”
Oh no…
“Was it a distress call?” I haltingly asked, wondering why the True Eki would send an SOS here instead of to Nuclei City or Stellaria.
The Xuni shook their head, clearly shook. “No. There was not time for that. The Eki knew they were doomed, so what they were recording was evidence—a way to document the end of their planet’s existence.”
Ziggy swallowed thickly. “What did the evidence show?”
“Nothing.” Sedo shuddered. “Infinite darkness where light could no longer exist. There was a message, however?—”
“From the Eki?” I interpreted, my mind already sorting through my various hypotheses.
“From the attacker.” Sedo grimly looked between us before settling their gaze on Zig. “It said, ‘The weak shall inherit nothing.’ Then it devoured Kanrienus whole.”