Brendon swears this is the last time he’s going to take treasure-hunting advice from a giant turtle.*
Mikey never listens to music anymore, not since the night he stumbled out the back door of a club too wasted to notice that the girl he was following had eyes that flashed black as coal and there was probably something a little bit strange about that.*
There are a lot of things John hates about his job. He hates the Wraith. He hates the Replicators. He hates losing people. He hates it when villagers who have only just worked their way up to inventing gunpowder shoot at his team. He hates turning into a giant scaly insect. (It hasn’t happened again–yet–but John is nothing if not a pessimist when it comes to turning into giant scaly insects.) But most of all, John hates debriefing Major Bryar’s gate team.*
“Spencer,” Brendon said slowly, looking at each of them in turn, “what exactly did you wish for?”*