That night Kiva slept without dreaming, and woke before dawn.
She walked to the doorway of her hut and looked out over the Sisters’ encampment and the village beyond. After the events of the past two days, she knew that she should call a meeting to speak to the Sisters and the villagers. She’d been so busy dealing with Matthew and the Strangers that she barely had time to think about her own people. She could sense that the Vagri were afraid, uncertain about what the future might hold—they’d need a word from their Vagra soon.
But Kiva didn’t feel like she could face them. Now, before the Great Mother rose over the horizon, the village was silent. Soon, though, everyone would wake up, and the thoughts and worries and emotions of each of the villagers would begin to echo in Kiva’s mind, buzz in her veins. She couldn’t take it. Not yet.
I want to see Matthew.
Kiva surprised herself with the thought. She didn’t need to see Matthew because the Ancestors wanted her to; she didn’t have to see him because it was her duty as Vagra to deal with the Strangers. There was no real reason for her to see Matthew today.
But she ached to see him nonetheless—for no reason other than that she wanted to.
She began to walk toward the edge of the village, moving quickly and quietly so as not to wake anyone.
At her back, the dark sky began to glow at the horizon.
Matthew woke late that morning, and found himself alone once again in the sleeping quarters of the Corvus. Sam hadn’t returned in the night—but now Dunne was gone as well.
In the airlock, Matthew found that the speeder was gone. The gun case was still locked, but there was a note on top of it, written in a looping cursive script.
Gone out. Be back soon.
Matthew squinted at the note. Why would Dunne leave? Maybe she was looking for Sam, Matthew thought.
He hit the button next to the airlock door and stepped out onto the grass, yawning and stretching his arms into the air.
In the distance, he spotted a figure moving toward the ship. Squinting, he moved further into the plain.
It was Kiva.
Matthew’s mouth pulled into a smile.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when Kiva came close.
Kiva reared back, feigning hurt. “What, you don’t want me here? I’m offended!”
Matthew laughed, relieved that the chill he’d felt between them the day before seemed to have thawed this morning. “No, it’s not that. I was just … surprised to see you.”
Kiva looked over his shoulder to the Corvus. “I wanted to see inside your ship. I’ve shown you our village and the inside of my hut—I hoped you’d return the favor.”
Matthew’s stomach fluttered as he turned back to the open airlock. The prospect of letting Kiva into the Corvus felt wrong somehow, like he was disobeying some command—what would Mission Control back on Earth think if they knew?
Matthew shook his head to himself. He was being silly. He didn’t care what Mission Control thought. He and Dunne had been hiding plenty from them already. Plus, Kiva was right—she’d taken a much bigger risk by letting him come into her village. The least he could do was show her around inside their ship.
“All right,” Matthew said. “After you.”
He waved his hand toward the airlock door, and Kiva walked inside. Matthew came in behind her and hit the button to close the door. Kiva jumped with fright and looked back at the door as it closed.
“Sorry,” Matthew said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You don’t need to be afraid.”
Kiva looked around the airlock, awed. She put her hand against one of the walls, running her palm over the smooth surface. “It’s amazing. How did you make it?”
Matthew grinned. “I didn’t—I could barely make a bird feeder in woodshop class. Other people made it. Scientists. Engineers.”
The airlock finished decontaminating the air, and the door to the inside corridor hissed open.
“It’s impossible,” Kiva said, running her hands along the doorway, trying to find where the sliding door had disappeared to.
Matthew chuckled. “Funny—when I visited the village, I was thinking the same thing about you. The things the Ancestors can do through you seem pretty impossible too.”