A welcome guest paid Xelan a visit at his installation. Iona-01 was bustling with activity, both to prepare for the invasion and to maintain their front as a private airline outside of Little Rock’s East End, among other locations.

“Lucas, my old friend. Why am I not surprised to see you?”

As another Icarus left behind after Nox’s banishment, Lucas worked with other Icari to field relations between Earth and other galactic entities and monitor the Progeny—Xelan’s name for all those descended from Rayne, Sagan, Tameka, Kyle, and Andrew’s ancestral lines. But The Brethren were also Xelan’s overseers.

In a bespoke three-piece suit, Lucas excelled at the part of the diplomat. Framed in the doorway of Xelan’s office, Lucas answered, “Well, seeing as I’m keeping your activity with the Progeny a secret from The Brethren, I thought I’d check in and see how first contact went.”

Xelan came around his desk, leaned his butt against it, and folded his arms. “It went well. I think they’re taking everything in stride.”

Lucas stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him, saying, “Of course, I agree with you. It’s in their best interest to prepare. I simply wished we could’ve left them oblivious to live their lives as The Brethren had decreed.”

This bothered Xelan. How could The Brethren expect those five teenagers to stand a chance against Nox and his invasion force without an ounce of training or support? At least Lucas saw reason. Even so, Xelan admitted, “I understand to an extent. If I thought they could survive without this burden, I never would’ve contacted them. Unfortunately, I see no other course of action.”

“Have they inquired as to the source of your speed and vitality?”

Lucas touched on something Xelan would rather avoid. “No, but I will tell them, eventually. They’ll need to understand nacres and how the nanites within nacre bearers lend unbelievable advantages to the opposition.”

The shorter Icarus ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair. Lucas’ golden eyes—true, molten gold—flashed as he raised a brow. “And if they ask for nacres of their own?”

Xelan sighed. This was a difficult subject. Ultimately, the Progeny should remain unaffected by Icarean relations, but there was no fine line between sitting duck and super soldier. Xelan said, “I’d like to leave them whole for as long as I can, but if the worst comes to pass, then we’ll see if Enki will grant them nacres.”

Lucas gave a solemn nod. “Very well. I won’t speak of it again. I suppose they don’t know who you are—to them or to the Icari?”

Xelan shook his head and unfolded his arms to lean back against the desk. “No, and I don’t plan on telling them. I need them to trust me, and how could they if they knew my part in this? Fully, I mean.”

“Lying by omission—Xelan, I know you. My friend, martyring yourself may cost you their trust later.” Lucas made an excellent point, but…

“One thing at a time,” Xelan said, biting his thumbnail. “Right now, I’m grateful they listened to me and agreed to training. For the sake of Earth and Cinder, I’ll build them into a fighting force capable of facing Nox.”

Lucas stepped into Xelan’s line of sight, demanding his focus as he asked, “And Rayne? Does she know her part?”

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Xelan shuddered and looked away from Lucas’ earnest concern. Xelan said, “Not yet. She’s so young, and I don’t want to overburden her.”

Lucas smiled congenially and placed a hand on Xelan’s shoulder. “As if telling her the fate of the world rests on their teenage shoulders isn’t burden enough?”

This time Xelan met Lucas’ eyes as he said, “Exactly. So the rest can wait until I’ve earned more of Rayne’s trust.”

With a nod, Lucas conceded. “Fair enough. Keep me updated on their progress, and I’ll lend you whatever support I can garner from The Brethren. But Elden help me if they ever find out I instigated your contacting the Progeny before the invasion.”

Elden help them both.

That night, Xelan put the Progeny through their paces on the training course. Tameka and Sagan were still staying the night at Rayne’s, so that was convenient. Kyle had told his mother and sisters he was off to see a movie with Andrew, who was the only one with a car.

This might take more delicate maneuvering than Xelan had first assumed.

“Perhaps every night on the weekends isn’t feasible,” Xelan declared to the five teenagers, who’d collapsed with varying degrees of over-exertion. “I’ll just come to you after dark on your designated week nights until you’re older.” He didn’t want to cause any trouble in their households.

They barely mustered a thumbs up in response from where they’d splayed out on the grass, panting. It made Xelan smile. Maybe another two months of this, and they’d tackle the course with ease. They could even progress to the vaulting obstacles.

Yes, the first six months would take the most out of them, but they’d get there. Now, onto the genetic memories.

Xelan cleared his throat before asking, “Have any of you had any unusual dreams or thoughts?”

Rayne perked up. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d experienced any memories which weren’t your own?”

Tameka got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Do you mean like flashbacks or something?”

Xelan nodded.

Kyle always sounded suspicious when he addressed Xelan. “Why? Should we be seeing shit?”

Andrew said, “I did last night. I dreamt of a desert, but that was all.”

Sagan nudged him. “How do you know it was a flashback?”

“Because I could smell the sand and feel the sun—It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.”

Xelan wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, but he’d try for as much transparency as their mission could afford. He said, “The desert in Egypt is where Cinder’s conduit opens into Earth. It’s where the First Wave of Progeny sent Nox back during what we call ‘the Vacating.’”

Rayne’s bright blue eyes shone with curiosity. “Who were the Progeny? Can you tell us more about our ancestors?”

Xelan nearly winced. How much of the truth could he tell without overwhelming them? There was one simple place to start. Xelan pointed at Rayne and said, “Celindria.” Then he pointed at Tameka, saying, “Merit. Devis was Kyle’s ancestor. Andrius was Andrew’s—obviously a family name. And you, Sagan. Your ancestor was called ‘The Afflicted One.’ T.a.o. for short.”

Sagan frowned. “Why?”

That was a story for another time, so Xelan offered a shorter answer. “It’s the name she gave herself. The Progeny weren’t born. They were genetically engineered to combine the best of our two species. Strength, speed, enhanced senses, but without the Icarean hunger and aversion to Sol’s radiation. The Progeny came into this world as fully grown adults.”

“Cool.” Sagan glanced at the others as they looked at her and gave a cavalier shrug. “Either we can let everything Xelan says overwhelm us, or we can accept that we descended from totally badass hybrids. I’m choosing the latter, and I’m taking Tuesday nights.”

Tameka helped Sagan to her feet, saying, “When you’re right, you’re right. I’ll take Wednesdays.”

Andrew stood, and Kyle followed. The latter ran a hand through his knotty curled hair with a sigh. “Mondays already suck. May as well go all out.”

Rayne remained seated and beamed up at Xelan. “I’ll take them all.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Every night after you finish with each of them, you come and train me.”

Sagan nudged Rayne. “I know you’re famous for insomnia, but what about school?”

The other girl refused to budge, shaking her head solemnly. Then Rayne impressed Xelan by saying, “Nothing is more important than preventing the invasion. Besides, it’s not like I’ll lose any sleep because of it.” She turned those bright blue eyes on him. “Please, Xelan. I want to help.”

Aside from fierce determination, Rayne was nothing like her ancestor. And for the first time in several thousand years, Xelan realized it was a benefit and not a hindrance. She could really make the difference between victorious success and utter defeat.

Xelan grinned. “Every night. I got you.”