Gregor followed Ripred, barely registering where he was going. Nobody, not even Solovet, had protested when the rat had ushered him out of the war room, mere minutes after his and Nerissa's entrance.

"You look like you've swallowed a whole lemon." Ripred suddenly stopped and grinned. "What's the matter?"

Gregor raised his gaze, realizing they were standing in front of the code room. "Luxa . . ."

"Luxa couldn't be doing better," Ripred immediately cut him off, then paused and frowned. "Well, maybe she could, but my point is, she is most certainly not dead. What'd I tell you about believing the things Solovet says? Don't tell me you've forgotten already."

Gregor would have told him that he'd had doubts about Solovet's words, but he thought there was no point. Because, despite the doubts, hearing it from Ripred immediately lifted a weight off Gregor's chest. He smiled.

"Not even trying to hide it anymore, eh?" Ripred mocked, then slapped Gregor's back with his tail, sending him staggering into the code room.

He might have actually stumbled, hadn't he immediately found himself embraced by two little arms. "You're back!" exclaimed Lizzie, and he hugged her right back.

"I'm back."

"And I don't get a hug?"

Gregor shot Ripred a sour look before releasing Lizzie, who instantly dashed over to give him a hug as well. "Oh, what happened to your face?"

"Gregor, we were so worried!" Before he had the time to look around, he was enveloped in a different pair of arms.

"I'm okay," mumbled Gregor, his face pressing into his dad's shirt. "We're all okay."

"Alright, alright, all heartwarming family reunions aside . . ." Ripred cleared his throat. "I'm afraid we've got stuff to discuss." He let his gaze wander over who was present from the code team—Teslas with Daedalus and Reflex in a corner, surrounded by scrolls, next to them Hazard, and finally Gregor and his dad. "You and I might know things," Ripred said to Gregor directly. "But I feel like it's time we share our knowledge with the rest of whom we know that we can still trust them, in these times."

Gregor let go of his dad, nodding. Up until now, they had needed to keep Solovet's untrustworthiness a secret, but now that she'd gone so far as to announce Luxa's death . . . "We're finally doing something about Solovet?" he asked, catching sight of his dad's frown.

"Solovet . . . isn't she in command of the Regalian army?"

Gregor nodded again. "She's . . . Well . . ."

"Blake, yeah?" Ripred suddenly stood in front of Gregor's dad, sizing him up. Gregor's dad nodded, and something in Ripred's expression shifted. "Well, well," he said, and then, to Gregor's surprise, added, "Can you keep a secret?"

***

Gregor let his eyes wander around the little assembly of friendly faces Ripred had called together and thought seeing so many people here actually made the old nursery feel way less creepy. Maybe the lantern his dad had brought also helped with that.

"So, what urgent news do you have for us?" Howard shifted, staring at Ripred next to him. Gregor thought he wanted to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. Maybe even to check on Twitchtip.

"Patience, Howard." Ripred leaned against the turtle sculpture behind him, and Gregor saw his gaze wander along their group just like his own. There, next to Howard, sat Nerissa with Ares and Nike just behind her. Gregor sat between her and his dad, who was still gazing around the impressive room in awe. On his other side was Teslas, and Ripred himself at the point, in front of the lantern.

Only then did Gregor suddenly ask himself why no one had invited Vikus or Mareth. Surely, they could trust them too . . . Yet before he could ask, Ripred began: "So." He leaned forward. "So, so, so . . . I've told Gregor about this earlier, urging him not to disclose it. Now though, things have advanced some, and so I feel it is time to share this with more people we know we can trust. You may feel honored to be here."

No one said anything, staring at him with anticipation.

"Fine. How about this?" Ripred scratched his ear, then raised his claw. "You all heard the claim that Luxa was supposedly killed, yes?"

Nerissa and Howard nodded. "They proclaimed it at the front," mumbled Nike.

"The servants who brought us food announced it," said Gregor's dad, aghast. "Isn't she . . . quite young?"

"So, word has spread already." Ripred ignored his question, unsurprised. "Well, let's stop dancing around it then. What I've assembled you all to tell you is this: Luxa is alive, Solovet's betrayed us, and you all are currently—well, almost—the only ones I genuinely trust in this palace."

The words elicited a heavy silence.

"Solovet has . . . what?" Howard broke the silence first.

"Solovet has certain plans," said Ripred. Then he went on to repeat the theory that was apparently no longer a theory. Gregor listened with growing dread to his account of what Henry and Luxa had shared with him about her plans to feign-cooperate with the gnawers, use Twirltongue's insides to win the war quicker and eliminate Luxa, eventually massacre every last gnawer and reign supreme . . . over potentially the entire Underland.

"She was the one who tried to have Luxa killed in the first place," Ripred concluded. "Had the lad and I not been there, she would've succeeded."

"If she lives, why has Luxa not returned yet to falsify her claim?" asked Ares.

"We deemed it unsafe," replied Ripred. "We have no idea who's loyal to our dear Solovet, so I trust no one besides the lot of you."

"If Luxa returned, she would be far easier to genuinely kill," said Howard in a grave voice. "They could easily intercept her if she entered these walls. Drag her off under the guise of a house arrest, or even unnoticed."

"That's what we said," confirmed Ripred. "At least out there, she can keep moving, keep evading them. And there, she's got the lad with her." Ripred chuckled. "That's almost as good as having me. Unfortunately, Solovet's now using the fact that Luxa cannot return to her advantage and pretends like she's indeed dead, which leaves a power vacuum . . . And guess who she figured would fill that?"

"I will not allow this," Nerissa said resolutely. "Solovet may be powerful, but she is not of royal blood. As long as I live, she has no legitimate claim to the throne."

"If you are the last royal left, and if she wants the crown, does that not put you at a grave risk?" Gregor's dad said with a kind of stern "dad" voice that Gregor hadn't heard him use in a while. He'd last heard this tone when he'd told him he'd come along to the Underland after the cockroaches had kidnapped Boots two winters ago.

Ripred nodded. "Dear, I would heed you to be extremely cautious," he said. "If Solovet begins to perceive you as a genuine threat, I've no doubts that she will attempt to "handle" you the same way she planned to have Luxa handled."

"But I cannot simply step back!" Nerissa urged. "I have to do something."

"We've come here," Ripred cut her off, "to determine what somethings we might do."

"When a secret plot is hatching . . ." mumbled Nerissa with a faint smile.

"We're hatching something, alright. But there's a time for everything," heeded Ripred. "Now's the time to focus on the "secret" part more so than anything. We all, but especially you, dear, must appear as little threatening as possible. Once we've found a way to expose Solovet, Luxa will return. There is no need to risk your own life in the process. Your brother'd try to stab me in my sleep again certainly, if I let anything happen to you," he said in a mocking voice.

"So, we're conspiring ourselves," concluded Ares. "A conspiracy against the conspirator?"

"But why can we not expose her immediately?" asked Howard, his frown even more prominent than before. "Surely if we all speak against her, the council will believe us!"

"I'm afraid it is not so easy," retorted Ripred. "You must think of the big picture here. If we brand Solovet as a traitor before the end of the war, we risk adding inner conflict to the already pressing outer one."

"Arresting someone so close to the royal family, and that for something as severe as treason, will bring with itself an uproar," mumbled Nike.

"I've told you time and time again, we have no idea just how many supporters she has. She's been reinstated after commissioning the plague," urged Ripred. "Don't you think one would need at least the majority in the council for something like that?"

"If we touch her, we'd risk starting a civil war on top of the conflict with the rats," mumbled Gregor's dad.

Gregor looked around and realized that they were all right. The last thing Regalia needed now was more war. "But what do we do then?" he asked. "We can't just do nothing."

"Can we just . . . leave her in power? Just like so?" asked Nike.

"We might have to," said Teslas in a heavy voice.

"I've been thinking about this, and unfortunately he's right," added Ripred. "There is little we can do without giving away that we know about her treason. And that's the last thing we need now."

"She'd have any known witnesses eliminated," mumbled Ares.

"At least she's . . . trying to win the war?" asked Nike. "Is she not? You said that she is using Twirltongue for information, not the other way around."

"That's right," confirmed Ripred. "Under those circumstances, I've concluded that it would be the lesser evil to leave her where she is for now. My main purpose of gathering you lot here wasn't to hatch a plan for action, but rather for inaction." His voice grew deadly serious. "So, heed my warning and trust nothing she says. Do not follow her commands blindly, and do not let yourself be swayed to do anything that might forward her plans for treason if you can avoid it."

One moment of significant silence passed.

"What you are also saying is . . . Not only can we not trust Solovet, but we can also not trust anyone who is not currently present," said Howard eventually.

"Not blindly, anyway," replied Ripred in the same grave voice. Once again, Gregor's thoughts drifted to Vikus and Mareth. What about Twitchtip? He suddenly remembered that she was in the palace. Then Dulcet, the code team, Hazard, and Lizzie . . . Well, there was no way he'd involve her in any of this either way.

"And . . . Luxa?" Nike finally asked, scraping the floor with a claw. "Will she remain hidden, outside, with the Death Rider? With Henry?"

The name made Gregor's dad—the only one in the room who didn't know the Death Rider's identity—perk up. Yet before he could ask, Ripred nodded. "She's safe out there with him. The only thing that worries me is the public morale. I wager that will be your most prominent job." He eyed Nerissa. "Feeling up to the task?"

Nerissa made a face. "I will do my best," she said, evidently attempting to sound determined, although Gregor sensed her unease.

"Very good. So—" Ripred declared, staring at Gregor. "We should make it our priority to set you up against the Bane as soon as possible to end this war so that we can deal with our inner issues."

"Our?" Howard tilted his head. "I do not mean to be rude, but you speak as though you are a citizen of Regalia. Have you taken that much of a liking to our city?"

Ripred grunted. "Our, your . . . I'm on your side here, am I not?"

"Oh, leave him be," said Ares with his eyes half-closed. "Have you not heard the rumors that Ripred feels more at home in Regalia than he ever has anywhere else? Where is the harm if we have him?"

"Shut up!" the rat hissed, and the assembly laughed.

Gregor laughed along until he heard Mrs. Cormaci's voice in his head again. About how Ripred had no home, no family. Then he thought that there was probably a lot of truth to these rumors. That, even though Ripred would probably rather die than admit it, he . . . and Henry too, more or less secretly wished to belong to a community like theirs.

"Right, they believe you have to . . . kill this white rat—the Bane. We really ought to talk about that sometime," said Gregor's dad when the laughter abated. Gregor tensed, feeling his pensive yet surprisingly melancholy eyes on him. "Nerissa gave Lizzie and me a copy of the prophecy while you were away. They believe it means one thing, but there could be an abundance of options."

Gregor barely listened to his dad. He had long frozen to solid ice. His head flew around to Nerissa, who gave him a knowing look. "Mean you the part that goes "When the monster's blood is spilled / And the warrior's role fulfilled"?" she asked. "I agree that it may be interpreted in an abundance of ways, but most Regalians believe that it needs us to set Gregor up against the Bane."

"Even though it does not actually mention explicitly that Gregor is the one who spills the monster's blood," said Gregor's dad sourly. "Who even says that? Who says that the Bane is the monster? Who—"

"All very insightful," Ripred cut him off. "But we may muse about the prophecy at a later point."

"I will gladly hear your thoughts later," said Nerissa to Gregor's dad.

"Children, children!" Only when Ripred tapped the stone turtle with his claw did Gregor release his breath. His first impulse was to think that Nerissa was shielding his family from the one line in there that seemed crystal clear. On the other hand . . . And the warrior's role fulfilled.

It might actually mean that, whispered a voice that eerily resembled Henry's in Gregor's head. It might mean that the warrior dies a symbolic death after fulfilling his role.

"I don't care what it means!" Gregor hadn't actually meant to say that aloud, but then everyone was staring at him. "Sorry," he said, averting his eyes. "I've been over that prophecy so much that I'm kind of sick of it now." And of the guy who wrote it, he didn't add.

Ripred threw him a suspicious look, and so did his dad, but luckily they left it alone.

"I was going to say, actually," Ares perked up. "This means that the Bane has survived your and Whitespur's onslaught?"

Gregor's head flew up. Of course—he'd completely forgotten to ask. His eyes found Ripred, and immediately, Gregor became more alert. Upon this question, the invulnerable Ripred slumped. His tail coiled, his ears drooped, and his gaze flew toward the floor.

"He's survived," Ripred said in the same grave voice with which he'd first uttered Whitespur's name in the vineyard. Hadn't Gregor known better, he'd have said it was even more dire now. "Things out there . . . didn't exactly go as planned."

And the account that Ripred shared then shook Gregor to his core. He spoke about Whitespur, who had, together with Henry and Luxa, gone out to seek allies who still remained loyal to her from her time under Gorger. In the process, they had rescued Lapblood, Sixclaw, and Twitchtip, and even won over Splintleg for their cause. They had planned on turning the Bane's forces against him using Whitespur's old fame . . . and how all that had ended for her

"We . . . buried her by the Spout," concluded Ripred. "It was the best we could do in such a short time."

Dire silence descended over the room. They sat there as if they had wordlessly agreed to hold a minute's silence until Howard finally raised his head. "She died a heroine," he declared. No one else felt a need to add anything.

He hadn't known Whitespur for long, yet Gregor felt tears rise in his eyes. An image of her, as she had consoled him after his talk with Luxa at the citadel, flashed before his inner eye. The many times she had saved them, protected them, guided them. The way Henry had spoken of her. It was not fair, he thought, yet before the first tear could escape his eye, Ripred's ears twitched.

"Something is not right," he mumbled with his eyes on the door frame. Many shadows hasted by and moments later, Ripred rose. "Something has—"

Just as he fell silent again to listen, the scratching began.