Gregor was unsure of how long Hamnet had let them all sleep, but upon waking up, he felt stiff and achy. It took him a full minute of stretching before he could stand up and join the others by the re-lit campfire.

Hamnet was grilling fish and mushrooms, and by his side sat Frill, Hazard, and Boots. When Gregor searched for Luxa, he spotted her on one of the rocks in front of the vine curtain, playing with two mouse babies.

Just as Gregor had taken a step toward her, the Death Rider emerged from the curtain, joined by two mice, a gray one with long fur and another young one, all white and maybe half as tall as the grown one. Before anyone could say anything, the junior mouse had darted past Gregor and Luxa toward Thanatos, nearly running him over in enthusiasm.

The Death Rider laughed and the gray mouse joined in. "Someone has been missed," he mumbled, then turned to Gregor. "Platonius," he said, pointing at the gray mouse. "And the one climbing on Death is Curie. We rescued them from a gnawer prison a while ago. And so is the tale of how we first ended up here."

Gregor exchanged a few words with Platonius and found that, with every day he spent here, he liked the mice more and more. Not a single species in the Underland had ever treated such a diverse group as them so hospitably, not even the humans.

It turned out that Platonius had been sent by Lovelace to share food with the questers, and Hamnet could add salad and a type of berry to the menu.

"Would you like some of this too?" The Death Rider held out a clunky-looking loaf of bread. "While it may lack salt, it is still suitable for making sandwiches."

Hamnet froze mid-cutting the salad. "Some . . . what?"

"How do you know about sandwiches?" asked Luxa. She had risen from her rock and taken a step toward the Death Rider, closely followed by the two babies she had played with. "I had not heard of such a thing before Gregor explained it during our first journey together."

"Oh, he most certainly picked it up on your boat last time," Ripred replied in the outcast's stead, audibly spitting out the head of his second fish. "Is it not so?"

"It is," said the Death Rider after a split second of hesitation. "It's quite striking, so it stuck with me."

"It is striking." Gregor could have sworn he heard something like relief in Luxa's voice. He barely had time to wonder why she would be relieved, then Hamnet was already beckoning them all to take their seats around the fire.

And so, they shared what Gregor found to be one of the best meals he had ever eaten on a quest: sandwiches with salad, mushrooms, and grilled fish. But it was not only the questers; a few mice joined their circle shortly, among them Platonius and Curie. Lapblood occasionally threw them dismissive glances, but in the end, she said nothing for the sake of the food.

Hazard soon found himself surrounded by the babies who had played with Luxa earlier. The gray one was called Scale, and the brown one was Cube. As soon as Hazard had finished eating, he began feeding the babies, talking to them in their own language. Boots tried to participate in the conversation, but of course, she only made random squeaking sounds that seemed to irritate the mice more than anything.

Eventually, Gregor became so uncomfortable that he scooted over and picked her up, meaning to ask Temp or Frill to keep her entertained. But before he could look for either of them, Hazard ceased squeaking and stared at the Death Rider with round eyes. "Can . . . you understand them too?"

Gregor tuned out Boots' protests about being interrupted and turned to look at the Death Rider, like they all did. The outcast gave the assembly a lazy grin, then he pointed at the mice and produced the same squeaking noises that Hazard had made earlier.

"I too talk like mouse!" Boots yelled into Gregor's ear. "I talk like mouse!"

Gregor sighed silently, turning back to her. "Okay, you can, but not right now. Maybe Hazard can teach you. Please—" Gregor didn't know what exactly he meant to say when he sat Boots down next to Temp, but the cockroach instantly raised his antennas, understanding.

"Will the princess play with me, will she?"

Boots sulked for a while longer, but Gregor found himself more distracted by the squeaking that had significantly increased in volume now that four voices were making it.

"Would you look at that?" he overheard Ripred's hushed remark to Hamnet. "Not only has he experience with the Vineyard, but he also speaks a different language. What will we discover next? That he flies without his bat?"

Gregor's gaze trailed to the outcast, who had now picked Cube up to sit on his head, laughing about something. If he wanted, he could probably do that too, Gregor thought. If any human were to invent a way to fly, he'd be the least surprised by the one who already had a flaming sword.

***

Hamnet and Ripred allowed them all to chat for another half an hour, yet Gregor noticed the more and more dire gazes they exchanged once in a while.

Shortly after the mice had said their goodbyes, Hamnet opened his mouth, yet before he could, as Gregor presumed, announce their departure, he was cut off by Luxa. "We have not heard your side of the story yet, Death Rider," she said to the outcast. "What became of you after we battled the serpents?"

The Death Rider tensed; his gaze flew over to Thanatos, who seemed to be in some sort of conversation with Nike. Though maybe "conversation" wasn't the most fitting word. From what Gregor could make out, she did most of the talking, and Thanatos lay there, compelled to listen.

"Death?"

The moment the Death Rider called him, his ears peaked, and he left a disappointed Nike behind, coming up beside the outcast. "What is her deal, anyway?" asked the Death Rider, nudging him.

"She merely inquired how we all met for the first time," said Thanatos, rolling his eyes.

"Why did she talk so much and not you, then?"

"Because she talks much."

The Death Rider laughed, and so did Luxa, Ripred, and even Hazard. "Oh, don't be so sour and socialize, for once!" the outcast teased. "It's not like you have many opportunities for it in general!"

Thanatos groaned again, without another word. Meanwhile, Nike hadn't once stopped giggling. She had moved closer to Aurora, and the two, who were visibly doing better this morning, engaged in a hushed conversation.

"I would ask about your first encounter as well, but I assume you told me the complete version when you brought me the Bane?" Ripred asked Gregor between chuckles, who nodded. He had described the outcast and how he had saved them briefly . . . putting more focus on his later appearance during the serpent battle.

"No one has told it to me," mumbled Lapblood, and Gregor paused, then briefly explained that the Death Rider had saved his and Twitchtip's lives from a giant whirlpool, and later reappeared to fight the serpents with them, losing his eye.

"Heroic outcasts indeed," was all that Lapblood said.

"I have been heroic!" exclaimed the Death Rider promptly. "Oh, have you not told them that I have not only lost my eye to the serpents but have also ridden—wait," he froze. "Gregor, what now did you say you did with the Bane?"

Gregor sighed; apparently, his tale wasn't over yet. In as few words as he could, he recounted what had happened after the serpent battle. He described his ordeals in the Labyrinth and elaborated on why he hadn't killed the Bane.

"Oh!" the Death Rider exclaimed. "Oh no! Is Ripred actually a daddy now? The poor Bane!"

Luxa giggled, and the outcast received a hefty slap from Ripred's tail. "The poor me!" snarled Ripred. "For your information, I have never asked for this." He threw Gregor a look, conveying that he was still unsatisfied with the arrangement.

Before the rat and the outcast could begin arguing, Gregor quickly concluded his tale with Nerissa's interpretation of the Prophecy of Bane. Then, upon Luxa's and the Death Rider's urging, he also recounted the events of the trip so far.

When he was finished, the Death Rider finally took over, answering Luxa's question as to what had happened to him. His tale was shorter, but it shook Gregor to his core, as he wagered it did everyone.

Hamnet inspected the fabric the spinners had stitched onto Thanatos' wing with amazement, and both Nike's and Aurora's eyes became round when they heard that he had flown out of the Labyrinth without the patch. Gregor eyed Thanatos with newfound respect as well and then thought that maybe he shouldn't be surprised, considering he had almost flown over the waterway before that.

When the Death Rider proclaimed that they had also bonded, Luxa immediately broke into spontaneous applause. For a moment, Gregor remembered how vehemently they had protested when Mareth had assumed that they were bonds on the boat . . . Then he turned his frown into a smile and joined in the applause, and so did Hamnet, Temp, and the bats. Hazard looked puzzled, and Ripred and Lapblood at least mustered smiles.

The Death Rider jumped to his feet and bowed theatrically, like a stage performer, but Gregor noticed that Thanatos did not move. He almost looked . . . uncomfortable. Gregor attempted to give him an encouraging smile; he knew exactly what it was like to be the unwanted center of attention. And for as much as the Death Rider seemed to enjoy attention, Thanatos . . . his bat seemed not to.

The applause also concluded the Death Rider's story. And so, nothing stopped Hamnet from rising to his feet anymore. "This was pleasant," he said. "And I am certain that where we are headed, we will be better off in a good mood." He exchanged a look with Ripred. "But we should depart now."

The group instantly fell silent, and Gregor swallowed, eyeing the dense vines beyond the clearing. Of course . . . He instantly felt guilty about it, but he had nearly forgotten what lay ahead. Maybe it was for the best, Gregor thought. If he didn't have these antics to distract him, he'd be counting days.

It took only ten minutes to prepare the group for departure. Hamnet did a last round of medical check-ups; he re-bandaged injuries—including Gregor's feet—and administered the painkiller to Aurora. She and Nike would ride on Frill together with their supplies.

It took some effort to convince Nike to leave Thanatos and take her place on the lizard's back; meanwhile, Gregor fetched Boots and secured her in her designated seat on Temp. Thanatos claimed he could fly above the vines, and everyone else was to go on foot.

When he had secured the bats, Hamnet turned back to the group and exchanged glances with the Death Rider. The outcast had just put his boots back on, yet his sword was not in its usual spot; the handle instead stuck out of his backpack.

"To the Vineyard of Eyes!" Hamnet called, and so he and Frill led the way into the jungle.

***

There was a small path worn by the mice traveling to the spring, but it quickly became overgrown, and so they were wading their way through dense jungle again. It was harder here. The vines grew more thickly so that, in places, they had to separate them with their hands to get through. Then the stems snapped closed behind them.

At times, Gregor couldn't even see most of his fellow travelers. He stayed right on top of Temp and Boots, making sure they didn't get lost in the foliage.

Only five minutes into their trek, Hamnet had them stop and assigned each of them a number, one through thirteen. Proceeding forward, everyone had to sound theirs off periodically.

He called his designated "nine!" off for the fourth time when Gregor noticed Luxa had fallen back to walk just ahead of him. It took him some five minutes to find words to address her. And when he then dared, all he asked was, "How's Aurora doing?"

"Better, so much better, although she still has some pain," said Luxa. She waited until he had caught right up to her and then asked in a puzzled voice: "Gregor . . . that boy, the one who speaks with the hisser—Hazard. He is . . . Hamnet's son, yes? But how can this be? His eyes are green."

"Yeah, his mom was an Overlander," said Gregor. "Hamnet met her somewhere out here. He hasn't talked much about it."

"Hamnet's son . . ." Luxa didn't look at him anymore; she stared at her feet.

"He is," said Gregor enthusiastically. "So, I guess that makes him your cousin." The moment the words slipped out, his mouth snapped shut. "I mean—"

"My cousin," said Luxa, looking conflicted. Gregor bit his lip, thinking about their conversation last night. Yes, her experience with cousins had not always been happy, but . . .

He blew out a breath, thinking that, at one point, she had to stop comparing everyone to Henry. It had been thoughts of him that had driven her to be irrationally hard on the Death Rider back on the boat, and now Hazard . . . "Give him a chance," said Gregor determinedly. "I think he'll be a good cousin. Like Nerissa or Howard."

"Is Nerissa not the girl who sent me the Death Rider prophecy?"

Both of them jumped when the outcast, who had taken the rear to keep everyone on track, appeared behind them. When Gregor glanced back, he saw none of his earlier carefree demeanor; his face was hard as stone.

"And what of Howard?" he asked before either of them could reply. "He is not with you this time. Has he not the courage to face the jungle?"

"Howard has the plague," said Gregor, and the Death Rider froze.

"He does?" asked Luxa with round eyes.

Gregor nodded. "He and Andromeda, and . . ." Gregor swallowed. "Nine!" he then shouted, grateful beyond belief that Nike's "Eight!" gave him an excuse not to finish his sentence.

The rest of the party quickly sounded off as well, until the Death Rider concluded with his own "Thirteen! All there!" There was a pause. "Ares has it too, no?" asked the Death Rider eventually. "Ripred mentioned this. Are they very ill?"

"Howard and Andromeda weren't when we departed," said Gregor.

"Oh . . . but Ares," Luxa whispered.

"Nerissa is queen now," said Gregor quickly. "For some reason, they thought they had to make her queen even though she is not sixteen yet. Vikus said it had something to do with . . . the Bane and, you know, a special situation—what do you call it?" Gregor kneaded his hands, fervently searching for the word.

"Did they issue a state of emergency?" asked the Death Rider.

"Yes!" exclaimed Gregor. "That! And . . . well, then the plague happened, and it wasn't lifted. But I guess when we get back, Luxa will be queen."

"If we discover the cure, there may not be a reason for a state of emergency," said Luxa. "I may not be queen yet, but I will also not be relieved of this crown." She tugged at it pensively. "But how fares Nerissa? Have they been dreadful to her?"

"She seems to be hanging in there," said Gregor. "She stood up to Ripred and everybody in a meeting. You'd have been proud of her."

"I am always proud of Nerissa," said Luxa. "If fools wish to belittle her, it does not affect my judgment of her gifts."

"Gifts?"

Gregor thought the Death Rider's voice sounded oddly grave. But he still explained the thing with Nerissa and her vision—that she had seen that Hamnet would be their guide and properly deciphered the Prophecy of Bane, so that Gregor and the other questers hadn't been executed.

"She has a gift indeed," said the Death Rider with a smile. "Tell her many thanks for the prophecy from me. And . . . that she should not let anyone kick her ass. Especially if she is queen."

All three of them laughed. "I will tell her gladly," said Luxa.

"So, we all told our stories earlier," Gregor said after a short pause. "Except for you. So, what happened to you and Aurora?"

And then Luxa told them her own tale. She spoke about being forced into an unfamiliar tunnel and about waves soon blocking their way to their companions. About hours of floating in the chilly water, clinging to Boots' and Temp's life jackets. Eventually, they had made their way into the Labyrinth and ran into Twitchtip, who had meant to lead them to a safer spot when a dozen rats had launched a seemingly coordinated attack. Luxa had ordered Temp to run with Boots and held off the others long enough for him to get a good start. Then she had fled. "Twitchtip directed Aurora and I into a network of tunnels that led us to the jungle," said Luxa in a somber voice.

"What happened to her?" asked Gregor, not even certain whether he wanted to hear this answer. Luxa's guilt-ridden face only confirmed his fears.

"She . . . remained behind," said Luxa slowly. "I do not know what happened to her, Gregor. She was weakened from her injuries. I . . . I do not know."

He averted his gaze at once so that she would not see his dejected expression. He knew Luxa would have done everything in her power, and he didn't want her to feel even worse about it, but . . . Gregor was hit with a wave of grief.

Before Gregor could dwell on Twitchtip, Luxa continued her tale. She described hours of wading through dense foliage, then a surprise attack by a giant tree snake, during which Aurora's wing had dislocated. "We had barely escaped into a cave too narrow for the snake to follow when Cevian found us. She helped me carry Aurora to the colony. Had she not been there to save us, we would have both lost our light."

"Cevian is braver than many," said the Death Rider suddenly. "She fought valiantly at my side to liberate a crawler colony from the cutters once."

"She did?" asked Luxa.

"She did," confirmed the outcast. "It is why the crawlers revere me so."

But before Gregor could ask who these cutters were, there was another sound-off. "Nine!" called Gregor, and waited for the Death Rider to conclude with his obligatory "Thirteen".

But when he then did, he placed one hand on each of their backs. "Now this is enough storytelling," he said. "We mustn't fall behind; we are almost there."

"Hey, wait," said Gregor, watching Luxa pick up her pace, directly behind Temp with Boots. She looked back once with a raised eyebrow, but he did not follow her. He had nearly forgotten again, but Luxa's story had reminded Gregor that he had wanted to talk to the outcast about something . . . preferably when she wasn't listening.

"You . . . So, you are the Death Rider," said Gregor to the outcast, deciding to start with the easy part.

"This prophecy was very convincing." He grinned. "And . . . why would I not be?" He spread his arms. "I have all it takes, wouldn't you say?"

Gregor laughed awkwardly. "You have a . . . flaming sword."

"I have so much more!" exclaimed the outcast. "You should take a look at that mural once you're back in Regalia. Has anyone shown you the old nursery yet?"

Gregor frowned. "No. I know a nursery, but—"

"Not that one!" The Death Rider shook his head. "The one with the stone sculptures. It is no longer in use, but you should visit it sometime. It is—" He cut himself off without warning. "Either way," he said with a frown. "You should really not fall—"

"One more thing!"

The Death Rider raised his eyebrow at him, and Gregor swallowed. "So, uh . . . I wanted to thank you for coming to help us with the serpents," he said after a pause. "And for . . . saving Boots! And Aurora, and . . . Luxa," he added more quietly. "But really, for coming at all. You're not so bad."

There was a brief pause, then the Death Rider broke into laughter. "I have no plans of being bad ever again!" he exclaimed, and Gregor frowned. Before he could ponder why something about those words sounded oddly . . . familiar, the outcast continued, "You're not so bad either!" He gave Gregor's back a hefty pat. "Keep it up, and she may even notice you one day."

Gregor stopped so abruptly that he almost tripped over the uneven jungle floor. "She . . . who . . . what?"

The Death Rider broke into another laughing fit. "Please!" he clapped his hands together. "You are not fooling anyone, Overlander. Or—" He ceased laughing and gave him an irritatingly bemused look. "Are you fooling yourself?" When Gregor didn't reply—for the simple reason that he really had no idea what the outcast found so funny—he laughed on. "Oh, oh, this is exquisite. I suppose you have some time . . . How old are the two of you now? Thirteen?"

Gregor shook his head . . . then nodded. He hadn't thought about his thirteenth birthday since Hamnet had asked about it, and he had told Hamnet that he was thirteen. "I am," he finally said.

"Well, I suppose there really is still time for the two of you then," said the Death Rider. "But do not wait too long. In these troubled times, anything may happen." When Gregor still did not reply and only looked at him with utter bewilderment, he shook his head. "Hopefully she will be more observant about the way you look at her than you are," he said with a grin. "Either way, you are most welcome for the rescue." He put an arm around Gregor's shoulder, ushering him forward. "I meant it when I said that I strive to earn your loyalty. All of yours."

"You don't have to earn anything anymore," said Gregor quietly. "You lost your eye for her. After she sent you away without even saying goodbye. Not everyone . . . actually, barely anyone would do that."

"Look at it this way," said the Death Rider, "now she will never send me away again. She will even plead with me to guide her."

Gregor said nothing. Despite the Death Rider's cheerful tone, he remembered his outbreak back at the colony very vividly. I invite you to try and do battle without one of your eyes.

Before Gregor could say anything else, a voice up ahead exclaimed: "Here lies the Vineyard of Eyes!"

"Come." The Death Rider tightened his grip around Gregor's shoulder and pulled him along through the dense vines that, after a few yards, ended abruptly. There were Boots on Temp's back, Luxa, and also everyone else, gathered along the stone rim of a valley.

Gregor flinched as Thanatos shot out of the vines behind them and landed beside Frill. But Gregor did not look at the bat; he looked at what lay ahead . . . because it took his breath away.

Gregor barely managed to close his gaping mouth, letting his gaze wander across the valley in front of him. More vines covered the landscape, but these ones were slender and graceful, boasting delicate blossoms in every color imaginable. A gentle, sweet fragrance wafted through the air, which was the coolest they had encountered since entering the Arch of Tantalus. The usual cacophony of the jungle seemed distant, even more so than back at the colony. Over the valley was a deafening hush.

Gregor blinked, trying to comprehend the sight before him. Was this the Vineyard? If so, why did people dread it so much? He took in the stunning scene. It was like a magnificent garden straight out of a picture book, with its multicolored blossoms, and . . . the smell. All of a sudden, Mange flashed before Gregor's mind's eye, along with the plant that had caused his demise. It had smelled deliciously, but it had only brought death. Perhaps in this jungle, he pondered, beauty was synonymous with danger. As Gregor fixated on the scene ahead, he couldn't help but wonder what the unrivaled beauty of this place meant for its danger level.

Frill was the first to set foot onto the smooth, wide stone path leading into the valley, and the rest followed on her tail. Gregor raised his head to look up and saw the vines grow in a high arch above their heads, almost as if they'd been planted and pruned by an expert gardener.

"Who made the path?"

Gregor didn't know exactly who he had meant to ask; in the end, it was the Death Rider who responded. "The Vineyard made the path," he said. "To invite in weary travelers."

Gregor stopped so abruptly that he nearly ran into Ripred, who had taken to walking last. "The . . . Vineyard?" A terrible suspicion overcame Gregor, and he instinctively ducked a little, eyeing the vines. Was this just a large-scale version of the plant that had eaten Mange? But instead of a single plant, had a whole variety worked out this enticing trap together?

Gregor felt like he had been walking in serene sunlight, yet now a sudden cloud had obscured the sun, transforming the once welcoming scenery into a foreboding one. Even though neither the lighting nor the temperature had changed, Gregor shivered.

"Courage, boy," said Ripred all of a sudden. Gregor thought he could likely smell his fear. "That loudmouthed lad has survived it numerous times, or so he claims." The rat pointed a claw at the Death Rider. "If he can, so can we others. Especially if we have his competent aid." Ripred chuckled.

"You're right." Gregor forced himself to look straight ahead again. He tried to think of how close the cure was, according to the Death Rider. It didn't help much.

"Stay very close together," called the outcast up ahead. "Walk in twos or even threes if possible. But avoid touching any plant."

"And under no circumstances, leave the path," added Hamnet.

"Ya heard the experts!" exclaimed Ripred, shoving him toward Boots. "Keep her close, will you?"

Gregor nodded vehemently. "Boots," he said weakly, and then cleared his throat and tried again. "Boots, you have to stay on the path. Like . . . like, you know how Red Riding Hood had to stay on the path?" he asked.

"Because of wuff?" said Boots, her eyes lighting up.

"Right," said Gregor, "these plants have bad things like wolves in them, so you stay right here on the path, okay?

"You stay on the path, Temp!" said Boots, but then she immediately began to peer into the vines, clearly hoping for a glimpse of a "wuff." Gregor would just have to keep her right next to him.

Frill, with Nike and Aurora on her back, led the party down the path. On her heel followed the Death Rider and Hamnet, with Hazard by the hand, while Luxa covered them on the right and Lapblood on the left. Gregor with Boots and Temp came next. Ripred, in the rear, walked alone, and Thanatos flew above their heads. The fact that he was there eased Gregor's mind. The bat would surely warn them of any impending danger.

Gregor took a deep, conscious breath, attempting to assess how vulnerable they were at the moment. Ripred and Lapblood could fight, and so could Gregor and Luxa. He instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of the sword he had put back into his belt. But who else? The Death Rider had his sword not even readied, the children were definitely not fit for battle, Aurora and Nike were helplessly strapped to Frill's back . . . and Hamnet and Frill would probably not want to fight even if something attacked them.

His eyes darted up at Thanatos; could he fight? Bats normally didn't, not without the humans, but who knew? He was an outcast; he probably had to be able to at least defend himself.

Quiet. It was so quiet. Gregor strained his ears as the last vivid clamor of the jungle died away. Then, for the first time, he heard the sounds of his companions stepping, sniffing, sighing. Nike coughed, Frill gave a hiss of surprise when Lapblood trod on her tail, Thanatos' wings disturbed the still air, and Gregor's stomach rumbled with hunger. But the Vineyard of Eyes drank in their sounds and gave them nothing in return.

Unsettling. The word the Death Rider had used surfaced in Gregor's mind again. It was so very fitting.

They had been walking for about five minutes when Gregor began to see them—the eyes. At first, he mistook them for flowers or some of the enticing fruit that hung from the vines. But flowers didn't blink, and fruit didn't roll around to follow your movements. Were they insects? Did the plants themselves have eyes? Was that possible?

Gregor didn't know and didn't ask. He just kept one hand on Boots and one on the hilt of his sword and pretended not to notice them. Yeah, right.