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From the blurb

In the gripping continuation of the Nabukko Trilogy,

Eff and her allies face perilous challenges as they attempt to uncover the truth. With the threat of Obliviation and a camp killer on the loose, every discovery leads to more questions.

Eff faces accusations from the camp’s leaders, particularly Nahova, who suspects her involvement in multiple murders. But when Merula reveals new information, Eff and her allies must deal with the growing turmoil and unrest in Nabukko.

In an effort to search for answers, Eff and Keir lead an expedition to the northern mountains. While Eff struggles with her memory loss and her recurring nightmares, the scavenge team must deal with the many challenges of an alien wilderness, including dangerous creatures and harsh weather, as they search for clues about the Obliviation and their mysterious circumstances.

For fans of The 100, Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle), and Across the Universe.
***

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Book Excerpt

A door clanged open from somewhere down the hallway, and small footsteps padded against the cold ground, stopping just out of arm’s reach of my cell door. 

I didn’t bother to look at my visitor.

“I’m guessing you’re pretty upset with Eoghan right now,” said a soft voice behind me.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, I looked over my shoulder, taking in the image of a young woman with golden hair, a tentative smile, and—most importantly—a tray of steaming food. My stomach gurgled accordingly. 

I twisted away from the blank wall I was currently staring at. The wall was made from the same dark metal used to construct most of the buildings in the camp. It was the same dark metal that had once composed the hull of the now-deceased Nabukko ship that had brought these people to this planet.

Them, but not me.

And I still didn’t know why.

The young woman unlocked the cell door, and it swung open almost reluctantly, like it didn’t want me contaminating the camp’s sanctuary anymore. Could inanimate objects hold grudges? 

“Good morning, Julee,” I said, my voice tight and short. I didn’t bother standing up from the rough cot I sat on. My light blue hair was stuffed into a disheveled ponytail, and I wore the same plain black shirt and gray pants I’d had on the morning Nahova had barged into the room I shared with Gia and harangued me with questions I couldn’t answer. 

It was the same morning Eoghan had betrayed my trust, putting me in this situation that had quickly escalated out of control.

Julee—Eoghan’s sister—had the nerve to smile at me yet again as she surveyed my surroundings. The smile wasn’t harsh or belittling, but my anger cranked up a notch nonetheless. I followed Julee’s gaze. The room had no windows. The only light came from a solitary bulb hanging drearily from the ceiling. The space was sparse. Empty. Abandoned.

Like me.

“How’d you sleep, Eff?” she asked. “I hope it wasn’t too cold.”

“Funny you should mention that, Julee. It was cold,” I said, my voice even sharper than before. I couldn’t help it, though. I was cranky, tired, and—above all—absolutely pissed at the entire Nabukko crew for falsely accusing me of murder and tossing me in this cell with a death threat. 

Skegs, that would make anyone’s day, wouldn’t it? 

I sighed. Truth be told, I was only mad at ninety-five percent of the Nabukko crew. The other five percent were the closest thing to friends I’d had in … well, I didn’t know how long. Three months, at least. But possibly longer. If I ever got my memories back, I’d be able to say exactly how long Keir, Gia, Martel, Lethia, Yula, and Lycidas had been my friends.

Eoghan, however …

Yesterday had been the final day of that friendship.

Eoghan was the whole reason I was marinating in this cell right now, awaiting my execution for the murders of three Nabukko crew members—murders I obviously had not committed. 

Julee set down the tray of food on the end of the wooden cot, but she didn’t immediately leave. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“I brought you some extra fuscus,” she said, pointing to the tray. “And I’ll ask about bringing a blanket for you.”

I ignored her attempt at politeness. “Do Merula and Nahova plan on keeping me here for another night?” I snapped, my eyes narrowing in a glare. “Why not snap my neck now and get it over with?” I was done sitting around waiting on someone else to decide my fate.

Julee grimaced as she wrung her hands on the edge of the mildly stained apron hanging from her neck. She’d tied the apron over a set of drab clothes—typical wear for all the accidental colonists. 

“I … I don’t know what their plans are, Eff,” she said quietly. “But I know there have been lots of discussions between Merula, Nahova, and the division leaders. And Gia has been advocating for you.”

“Gia? But I thought she couldn’t show any partiality …”

“She’s not. Every time she brings up the murders, she has a logical explanation for how it couldn’t have been you. She’s relying on reason and facts. It’s swaying a few of the division leaders.”

A tiny fragment of my anger and resentment broke away from the contorted mess of emotions inside me. Gia was standing up for me? I shouldn’t be surprised—not really, anyway. But hearing it from someone else … it replaced that tiny fragment of pain with a spark of hope. Dangerous hope.

I shifted slightly and cleared my throat. “How … how is everyone else?” I should have pushed her for more information on these division leaders, but I didn’t. 

Julee tilted her head. “Keir, rather surprisingly, hasn’t started a brawl—yet. And Martel and Lethia are arguing even more than usual, but I think they are both angry and taking it out on each other.” She hesitated then said, “And Eoghan—”

“I don’t care what Eoghan has been up to,” I said curtly, cutting her off.

Julee bit her lip. “He feels awful, Eff. He didn’t mean to get you in so much trouble.” 

“Brilliant. Do you think he could not mean to get me out of this mess? Hmm? No? I didn’t think so.” I was being a bit of a jerk to Julee right now, but I couldn’t seem to hold back my irritation or temper. What was the point anyway? It didn’t matter if I was nice to these people or if I was insolent. I was still going to die for crimes I had nothing to do with.

Julee leaned back against the wall and studied me, her gaze probing but gentle. “When I was seven,” she began, “I broke one of my mother’s favorite pots for her plants. It was an accident—just me being clumsy and careless. But the pot was ceramic and hand-painted—an antique purchased at a trade show.” 

She hesitated, and I frowned. Why was she telling me this story? I didn’t particularly care about broken pots at the moment.

“At first, I tried to keep it a secret,” she continued. “I was so embarrassed and ashamed, and I didn’t want my mother to be disappointed in me. But eventually, she figured it out. Do you know what she said to me when she found out, Eff?”

I shrugged. “Stay away from my stuff?”

Julee gave me a look. “No, she told me I should have just come to her—calmly—and explained the situation, and then sincerely apologized. She said she wouldn’t have been upset with me because it was an accident, and she hoped I would learn from my mistake. She told me that sometimes things don’t go the way we planned, and we mess up—often by accident. We can hurt people and cause problems without ever meaning to, and this can cause us more pain than if we’d been intentionally hostile. But”—she held up a finger for emphasis—”these situations also give us opportunities to grow closer to our loved ones. My mother and I understood each other a little better after I broke that pot. The situation tested us: it showed my mother’s mature character, loyalty, and willingness to forgive, and it highlighted my flaws and the things I needed to work on. Challenging events let us develop ourselves and grow closer to those around us—if we decide to work toward that outcome.”

Julee silently stared at the floor, letting me reflect without her scrutiny. I bit my lip as I thought over her words. Part of me wanted to snap at her that I didn’t care about some story of her being a careless kid. But I held my tongue. 

“If—if Eoghan really is sorry, then I might forgive him—one day,” I said after a moment. “But right now I’m upset, and I think I have every right to be, even if it was an accident. Eoghan hasn’t come by to apologize, and, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m still on death row right now.” I shifted my gaze to the rough floor. “Eoghan was someone … he was someone I thought I could trust. Now I know that I can’t. That won’t change anytime soon.”

Julee nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. I do, really. I just want you to think about giving him a second chance. He has to earn that chance, but … I don’t think Eoghan is your enemy here.”

I flattened my lips. “No, that would be the rest of the colonists—or, crew—whatever.”

“Not everyone hates you, Eff. People are confused and scared.”

“And I’m the scapegoat. So I’ve been told.” 

Keir had tried to warn me about what fear can do to rational thought. We’d been snuggled together on my bed … right before Nahova had led his inquisition against me.

Keir …

I shook my head, shoving lingering thoughts of Leaf Man away for the moment. I didn’t want any endearing memories to ruin my sour mood.

Julee shifted away from the wall. “I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

She started for the cell door but glanced back when I called out to her.

“Yes?” she said.

“I—thanks, Julee. For the food … and the company.” I couldn’t entirely keep the sullen tone out of my voice, but I hoped she could tell that I was trying.

She smiled again, her demeanor as gentle as a creek on a lazy summer day. “For what it’s worth, I think we’d be better off focusing our efforts on finding the real culprit.”

I returned a weak smile as she locked the cell door behind her. It was the best I could do.

***

I only ate half of the fuscus, barely nibbling on the rest of the food Julee had brought. I was hungry, but my stomach was so twisted up in knots that I felt more nauseated than anything else. 

What in Luna’s name was I going to do? I could try to escape … but was that honestly my best course of action? Even if I could get out of this cell and somehow slip out of Nabukko undetected—an impressive feat on its own—it would paint a massive target on my back. I wasn’t sure I wanted to live as a fugitive and survive in the wilderness. Survival on its own had been taxing enough.

It would also basically declare my guilt, and for some unknowable reason, I didn’t want these people to think I was a murderer. I had just begun to feel welcome here—even with all of the secrets buzzing around like horseflies. I liked the routine, the safety, the people. I liked knowing I wasn’t completely alone, abandoned on some unknown world, destined to live out my days without seeing another human ever again or figuring out what happened to me.

But why was I here? Why was the Nabukko crew here? And where was here?

I shook my head in frustration. Nothing made sense, and I felt like uncovering the truth was a distant pipe dream. 

Discovering that the Nabukko crew had weathered the same fate as me was a tantalizing clue. At least I now knew that I wasn’t the sole target of … well, whatever—or whomever—had caused the Obliviation. Could it be some powerful alien being, capable of dragging people from across the galaxy to a specific place? 

I scoffed at myself. “No way, Eff. That’s too ridiculous. We don’t even know if intelligent aliens exist yet. Try to be more scientific about this.” 

And now I was back to talking to myself. I was my oldest friend on this planet—that I knew of, anyway.

My fingers drummed against my chin. Okay, what did I know? 

“One,” I said, tapping my index fingers together. “The Nabukko crew and I arrived on this planet separately, with an unknown amount of time between our arrivals. And my vessel of transportation—and her crew—are all a massive, absolutely colossal, unknown.” I pinched my lips but forbade myself from dwelling on the fact that my parents had likely been on that ship. 

“Two. I’ve been stranded on this planet for three months for sure, but likely longer. Due to the Obliviation, no one—but especially me—can guarantee where they’ve traveled or what they’ve done.” Or why there might be dozens of my tags on a certain pod near Nabukko. 

“Three. The Nabukko crew—oh, wait, I nearly forgot—” I paused to chuckle at my joke. “Three. For some bizarre—and rather irritating—reason, the Obliviation has affected me way worse than any of the Nabukko crew. All of my memories are scrambled, although they seem to unscramble themselves more with each day, which is a very encouraging sign.” 

There was also the issue of my recurring nightmares in which I almost always died, but once again, I tried not to dwell on them. They were probably a sign that my psyche was inordinately stressed. My don’t dwell on this list was somehow defying physics and gaining mass faster than the speed of light. I let out another dry chuckle. 

“Four. The Nabukko crew members are shady as hell sometimes, and they have more secrets than the Judiciary.” They had kept the Obliviation, the source of materials for their camp, and the fact that someone was out there murdering members of their crew a secret from me—all information that would have been nice to know when I first “stumbled” onto their camp. Or rather, stumbled into their camp, thanks to Jarl’s bow and arrow skills. 

Even after all I’ve learned about the Nabukko crew and their well-established camp, I still felt like there was a list longer than a grass mound’s tongue of things they weren’t telling me. Things like that etching of the camp’s aqueduct system I’d found during my scavenge inventory shift with Keir. 

Could I trust Keir? If I hadn’t been caught up in the business of murder, would he have told me about the etching on his own? I bit my lip as thoughts of the other night resurfaced once again. Keir nestled next to me on my bed. Waking up the next morning, having fallen asleep after hours of talking. Keir’s lips only centimeters from mine …

I really wanted to trust him, to trust Gia, Martel, Lethia, the twins. But I’d thought I could trust Eoghan, and this was where I ended up because of that misplaced trust.

My sour mood curdled even further, so I shelved my personal reflections for the time being. My memories only seemed to bring me anger, frustration, and helplessness. Not a good combo.

With nothing else to do, I leaned back against the thin metal wall, craning my head into the corner so I could slouch. It wasn’t comfortable, but I didn’t want to move. I twirled the jade ring around my finger absentmindedly, waiting for the day to get on with itself.

After several minutes of silence, muffled voices sounded from the other side of the wall. I strained my ears to hear what was being said, desperate for news of the camp, my situation, or even a little bit of entertainment. Turns out, being in the brig was as boring as watching rocks erode.

“—knew it was … bad idea from the beginning … total stranger … and now she’s dead!”

My chest constricted involuntarily. Maybe no news was better than hearing this.

“—disagree. It couldn’t have been … several months. How do you …”

The first voice responded, but I couldn’t make out the words. The voices were growing quieter, and I imagined that their owners were walking away from this side of Nahova’s fortress, moving on toward their own personal freedoms. 

It should have been more encouraging, hearing that second voice in what I thought was support of me not being the camp murderer. But the fact that others still weren’t swayed, despite the glaring evidence that there was no way I could have killed the first two victims since I hadn’t been anywhere near Nabukko, was unsettling, to say the least. 

But, as Keir had told me, it was my word against theirs. It seemed like it would always be my word against theirs. 

I was alone, no matter how much I tried to change that fact.

Julee visited me around lunchtime and again for dinner, bringing more food and water, and she had even scrounged up an extra blanket for me—courtesy of Ascelin and Kennel. 

It was heartwarming to know I had at least a few more supporters.

I’d asked why Julee couldn’t bring me my blanket from my shared room, but she’d shrugged and said that “all of my possessions were considered evidence”—to which I’d rolled my eyes profusely. I assumed that was Nahova’s attempt at making me uncomfortable and unsteady.

But that had been yesterday. A full day had passed since, and not once had Nahova, Merula, or even a lowly guard come in to question me about my supposed crimes. I wasn’t a Judicator, but that didn’t seem like the best practice for solving a crime. For solving murders. 

What was going on? Was this Nahova’s way of making me squirm, his own cocktail of mind games? But he didn’t have the authority to order Merula around, so why hadn’t she even stopped in to question me? Had Nahova so thoroughly convinced her I was guilty that no further questioning was required? Merula hadn’t been my biggest fan, but I didn’t think she hated me either. Not like Nahova. 

I clutched my hands together, trying to keep my breathing steady. There was no reason to panic. Not yet, anyway. 

My feet tapped against the metal floor, a muted clang shimmying off the floor and climbing up the walls and onto the ceiling, only to fall down on top of my ears once more. 

Where was Julee? Wasn’t it a little late for breakfast? I couldn’t tell what time it was since there were exactly zero windows in my cell, but the single light bulb was on, and the temperature had risen. And my stomach was growling—despite still being tied up in a Möbius strip of knots.

I paced around the cell, my thoughts tumbling around, over and over, crushing themselves, like a snow globe made of boulders. If I wasn’t careful, I would shatter myself. 

A door opened down the hall. I froze.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

And then Eoghan was there, a tray of food in his hands, an unreadable expression on his face.

Well, that traitor would have no trouble reading the expression on my face. 

Eoghan’s eye contact lasted for less than a second before flitting around the cell. 

Coward.

***