SAB THAN felt oddly restless as he watched the wedding party file into the Palace of Light. This was his goal, the culmination of everything he’d been working toward. Yet even now, Matai Shang’s consciousness squatted on his brain, intruding into his thoughts.

Even this, he thought, is not mine.

The cream of Zodangan royalty filed in through one entrance, resplendent in red. From the opposite side, the Heliumites marched in, a sea of blue. The two groups crossed to staircases on either side, climbing to a common balcony beneath the shimmering dome. The wedding would take place on the central dais, where Sab now stood with his five groomsmen and a single bodyguard.

On the other side of the dais, Dejah Thoris approached her father, Tardos Mors. He handed her one end of a ceremonial chain, and they began to speak in low tones.

“Would you like to hear their words?” Matai Shang asked in Sab’s mind. Sab nodded, and suddenly he was privy to every word of Tardos and Dejah’s conversation. No doubt Matai had another spy planted in the Helium royal party and was sharing the Thern group consciousness again.

“I know,” Tardos said, “this is not the fate you would have chosen, daughter. For yourself, or for Helium. But choice is a luxury, even for a Jeddak of Barsoom. Your heart—”

“A heart is a luxury too,” Dejah replied.

Then they turned and began to walk toward the center of the dais. Sab Than stepped toward her, forcing a smile. Dejah’s face was hard, emotionless.

“Easy,” Matai Shang said to him alone. “Remember that she is not the prize.”

The groomsmen moved in on Sab’s side, and Dejah’s maidens joined her. Sab fell in beside his bride-to-be, and the priestess took up her officiating position before them.

High above, a mirror mounted at the top of the dome flipped over. A beam of moonlight stabbed down to a receptor on the dais—and the dais began to levitate, rising slowly up into the air. When it reached the level of the balcony, the ceremony would begin.

“The prize is Barsoom,” Matai said.

Zodanga was easy to find. It hadn’t traveled far since Carter’s escape, and its path of destruction was visible miles away. When its spires came into view, the Earthman let out a rebel yell, and several hundred mounted Tharks stormed the city’s gates.

At Tars Tarkas’s command, the Tharks fired off a volley, shattering the main gate to scrap. Tharks poured into the streets, whooping and roaring. Carter tensed himself for resistance, pulling hard on his thoat’s reins. He looked around, past the old stone buildings and guard barracks, and saw…

Nothing. No crowds, no wedding party, no defenses. No army. Only a few Zodangan guards and civilians running hastily for cover from the green horde.

The Thark charge slowed to a bewildered crawl. Tars Tarkas rode up beside Carter, and they exchanged puzzled glances.

Sola spotted a Zodangan guard hiding in a doorway. She leaped off her thoat and snatched him up, holding him close to her sharp tusks. “Why is Zodanga undefended?” she asked. “Where is everyone?”

“The army’s been repositioned outside Helium! Only a small contingent remains.” The man squirmed, terrified. “I beg you—have mercy—”

Carter rode up next to them. “Sab and Dejah Thoris. Where are they?”

“At the wedding.”

Carter, frustrated beyond belief, drew his sword.

“In Helium!” the man cried.

Tars Tarkas rode up behind Carter. “We’re in the wrong city?” He smacked the Earthman on the back of the head, a painful blow.

I deserve that, Carter thought.

“It’s the only way to get there in time,” Carter insisted.

Tars Tarkas fixed him with a steely glare. “Tharks. Do. Not. Fly.”

They stood together on the Zodangan Hangar Deck. Tharks loitered around the edges, eyeing the assembled airships warily. Normally the green Martians were fearless, eager to rush into any new situation at their Jeddak’s command. But this seemed to be a leap too far.

Carter opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. Time was running out.

“Okay,” he said. He gestured to a Thark guard, who tossed him an extra pistol. He strapped on another sword, then hopped onto a one-man flier and kicked it to life.

Woola, faithful Woola, roared in protest. Sola held the beast back. Tars Tarkas approached Carter cautiously. “This is madness, Dotar Sojat. You’ll die.”

“Then I’ll see you down the River Iss!” Carter yelled, over the noise of the flier.

Sola touched his arm. “Follow the canal,” she said. “And be careful. Moonlight will force you to fly low.”

He nodded, smiled, and shook her off. Lifted his flier into the night sky.

And began his one-man assault on the forces of Helium and Zodanga.

As the dark wasteland sped beneath him, Carter realized a startling fact. Since he’d come to Barsoom, this was the first time he’d been alone. And despite the urgency of his mission, he found himself growing pensive.

His former life, back on Earth, seemed unimaginably distant now. He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought, and for just a moment he felt Sarah next to him, her long hair soft against his neck. Silently, sadly, he bade her a final good-bye.

In that moment, he knew what mattered to him. Barsoom—and Dejah Thoris most of all. Carter’s old war, his old pain, was gone. Now he had something new to fight for, something worth a man’s life. He flicked the flier’s light controls, feeding more stored power into the motor. The rush of acceleration forced him back against the seat.

Helium loomed ahead, a glowing jewel in an ocean of dead sand. Carter frowned and banked his flier to the side, scanning the desert before him. Sure enough—it was hard to make out, but a vast fleet of Zodangan ground troops lay scattered on the desert floor ahead, just now fanning out to surround the city. The troops carried no lights, no torches. That would have given them away.

Just as he’d thought. Zodanga was planning to use the royal wedding as a distraction to invade and conquer Helium with overwhelming force. That was why they’d left their own city almost undefended.

Carter grimaced as his flier approached the Zodangan army. A trooper pointed up at him, swiveling a rifle quickly in his direction. But a big officer quickly slapped his hand down.

Carter exhaled in relief. He’d hoped they wouldn’t risk giving away their presence by firing. Besides, Carter was riding a Zodangan flier. They probably assumed he was one of their own scouts.

Still, he knew that this was the easy part.

Carter glided over the city walls, cutting his motor to silence. He scanned the spires quickly, spotted a domed palace blazing with light.

Gangway, boys, he thought. I’m late to the chapel.