I frowned at my younger sister, but glanced at Bastian Sithbrun between strands of messy, red hair. It had fallen from the usual knot when I’d wrestled with a temperamental hover dolly this morning, and I’d been in too much of a hurry to get here and talk Lux into letting me fly out to the supply station with her to pick up Jarana. I desperately needed the information the Tracker wouldn’t share over the coms. Bastian, catching my look, leaned forward, his dark, dark Gwinarian brown eyes locked and narrowed on me—as they had been every time I’d seen him lately. Which was a lot, actually. He sat on one of the benches along the wall of the loading dock, impossibly long legs stretched out in front of him. I’d been pretending not to notice his interest, but it was hard. The loading dock was a huge, cavernous space with gray walls and flickering lights. It held no open dome like the rest of the pods on Kithra, nothing of the splashes of bright blue jungle color to enjoy. Just gray.
