YOU DON’T know him,” Zane urged as I strode over to where he and his brother stood. “He’s a traitor,” he spat out, standing defensively in between us, his arms crossed in anger. “Zane, calm yourself,” Gwen reprimanded. “He’s injured because he came to help us. Surely you must remember how it feels to be viewed as a traitor when all you want to do is help?” She laid a soft hand on Zane’s arm. “I do remember, Mother. But I also know the difference between my brother and me, and I find his story hard to believe.” He peered back over his shoulder to where Zhax lay keeled over on the ground. His gaze seethed as he finished through clenched teeth, “Zordon had to have sent him here.” His menacing eyes were full of disgust as they roamed over his brother. Zhax shuffled uncomfortably as he clutched his right arm closely to his chest underneath his tattered and torn clothes. His face was bruised and bloodied, and his left eye was swollen shut.
