Silence enveloped the questers as they stood huddled around Luxa. Gregor stared at her, taking in the sight of her hand resting on the smudged pawprint. He could sense her sorrow but couldn't find any words to console her. Heck, he didn't think he even think he fully grasped the situation himself.

Just as he thought about asking what to do next, he sensed a tremor beneath his feet. It's just another subway going by, he thought. The trains always made the platforms vibrate, and you could even feel them above ground.

Then his gaze flew back to the bloody pawprint, and he remembered that he was not in the subway system of New York. He was in the Underland, in the Swag, tagging alongside Luxa on what he had earlier so carelessly dismissed as a wild goose chase, except they had been chasing mice. And he had not arrived in this tunnel by subway.

"Mount up!" screamed Howard behind him, and the bats fluttered into positions.

"What is it?" Hazard latched onto Luxa's hand. "What is happening?"

In one motion, Gregor scooped up Boots and hurdled onto Ares' back. He did not need to wait for Howard's answer to recognize the creepy grumble of the ancient stone beneath as an earthquake.

Images of a narrow path flashed before him, of raining gravel, of sitting in ankle-deep water, and of a young woman in the strong beam of his flashlight. Gregor gritted his teeth, clinging to Ares' fur. The Firelands were quite a distance away, and yet there was already another earthquake. This particular area definitely ranked low on his list of favorite places down here.

Just as Ares prepared to take off, a powerful shockwave knocked him down. He barely managed to leap into the air, alongside Nike with Howard. As their torch sizzled and dropped to the swaying floor, Gregor caught a glimpse of Aurora dodging a wave of gravel. On her back, Luxa struggled to restrain a twining Hazard. "Thalia!" he screamed. "I must go back for her! I must go back! We mean to be bonds!"

"She can fly easier if she has no rider!" called Luxa, but Hazard was inconsolable.

The whole world quaked now, and a deep rumble drowned out their screams. Gregor held onto Boots even tighter; this earthquake was much stronger than his last one.

"Hold tight!" ordered Ares, and tipped downward. Then they were level again, but Gregor felt the drag on Ares and realized that he must have Thalia in his claws. Only when he noticed this did Hazard cease screaming.

"Which way?" exclaimed Ares, frantically fluttering back and forth near the ceiling. "Back to the colony?"

"No!" Howard replied. "We will never make it. Follow me!"

Ares followed suit as Nike led the way to the far side of the Swag. Rock chips began to rain from the tunnel's roof, first small like the gravel on the ground, then growing larger. Gregor felt a jolt of pain as one hit his shoulder, the sharp edge slicing through his shirt and into his flesh. Gritting his teeth, he pressed Boots forward over Ares' neck, using his body to shield her as best he could.

Despite his own struggle to stay on Ares' back, worry for the others crept up inside him. He attempted to turn and look for them, but Luxa had dropped their torch, and he didn't have free hands to reach for his flashlight. He mentally counted whether he had seen everyone on a bat, yet the moment he recalled the last glimpse he had caught of the questers, a dreadful thought hit him: "Temp! We left Temp behind!"

A reassuring bump in his back startled him, causing him to almost release Boots. Gregor let out a sigh of relief as he felt Temp behind him. He seemed to have scurried up onto Ares when the earthquake had started—a good thing, because there was no going back for a rescue.

Facing forward again, Gregor bent and glimpsed the floor, where gravel rolled like waves on the ocean. Brightly glowing cracks had begun adorning the walls of the tunnel. First thin lines, which shot up the stone faces, etching treelike patterns in the surfaces, and then deeper fissures. He stared at them for a few moments before comprehending what the glow meant.

When it clicked, Gregor could already feel the water on the back of his neck. It was only a gentle patter, like rain, but that wouldn't last. "The roof! It's breaking! The river's coming in!"

He didn't know if Ares could hear him, and even if so, he was already flying as well as he could. The falling rocks soon increased in both size and quantity, and despite his best efforts, Ares could not dodge them all.

A massive, glowing water flood replaced the gravel waves when the river broke through somewhere behind them and Gregor spotted the exit just as Nike and Aurora dashed out. He inhaled, prepared to breathe out in relief . . . and then the wave hit Ares.

Boots was ripped from Gregor's arms, and he screamed, barely holding on to Ares' wet fur. This couldn't be happening . . . not again. Boots was flung forward . . . she screamed. Gregor's mouth opened in horror, but before he could scream back, something else shot past him. Gregor spotted a pair of arms seizing Boots just as Ares' fur slipped through his fingers.

Gregor was thrown against solid rock; he managed to take in one ragged breath before another surge swallowed him. He tumbled relentlessly in the glowing water, his head colliding with an object that made him gasp and inhale water. His vision flickered, and he felt his consciousness slipping away, only to be rudely jolted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his foot.

Suddenly, there was air around him again; he dangled in space, with water running from his nose and mouth. From above, a bat had seized him, though he was unable to see which one it was.

The claw released him on a stone outcropping, where he choked out the rest of the river he'd inhaled. The earth trembled ever so slightly, and when it ceased, Gregor scrambled to his knees. In the water's faint light, he saw Howard, Luxa, and Aurora, bloody and gasping.

Gregor's hand searched his soaked belt pocket for Mrs. Cormaci's flashlight. It wasn't until he swept the beam around that he noticed there was no sign of the others. "Boots!" He forced her name out of his aching throat.

As his flashlight beam cut into the twilight, he saw that they were up over an expanse of churning water. Several hundred yards away, he recognized the top of what must have been the opening to the Swag. There were Ares and Nike, speeding over the water, searching for the others. Ares, Nike, and . . . Gregor frowned.

Briefly, he wondered if the river water was causing him to see things as his flashlight beam captured the circling form of a third bat. Then he recalled the black lightning bolt that had snatched Boots.

He jumped as the bat soared past him in a tight circle before finally descending onto their ledge. Out of the corner of his eye, Gregor saw Howard and Luxa sit up, their gazes also fixed on the strange bat. But . . . Gregor blinked, then a wide grin spread on his face. This bat was not a stranger.

An overwhelming wave of relief hit him when he recognized the distinct white stain on the face of the black bat and the rider on his back. Then Gregor froze. On his . . . back? Once again, he asked himself whether he was seeing things, but no—the rider on Thanatos' back was . . . not on his back at all. The large black bat circled downward, and his rider hung from his back . . . upside down.

His ponytail was soaked, with strands of hair clinging to his face, but upon catching him in the flashlight beam, Gregor recognized the eyepatch. And when he saw whom the Death Rider held tightly in his arms, a great wave of relief engulfed Gregor.

"Boots!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet.

As Thanatos descended deeper, the outcast let go of her with one hand and grabbed onto something behind one of his bat's ears. With almost seamless ease, he pulled himself up until he sat upright again. Thanatos landed amidst the baffled questers, and Gregor noticed that the Death Rider was strapped into some sort of contraption that connected him to Thanatos' back.

Despite his curiosity, Gregor had more pressing concerns than asking about the equipment or the outcast's sudden appearance here. He staggered forward, arms reaching toward Thanatos, toward . . . "Boots!"

He almost tripped when Luxa dashed past him, toward the edge. "Hazard!" she screamed, her voice as desperate as his own. "Hazard! Aurora, can you fly? Can you fly?" she begged her bond, but the golden bat still gagged up water, unable to answer.

Gregor glanced over the edge of their plateau, and fear gripped him again. Hazard, Thalia, Temp. The smallest, the youngest, the most vulnerable . . . all still missing.

He pivoted back to the Death Rider, meaning to ask if he had seen them, and spotted Temp instead. The roach slid off of Thanatos' back behind the Death Rider, trembling like a leaf. Half expecting to spot Thalia and Hazard with the outcast as well, Gregor took a final step forward. His arms stretched out. "Boots!"

Yet as Gregor reached for her, she clung tightly to the Death Rider's head. Her tiara and princess skirt were gone, leaving only the still blinking and apparently waterproof scepter, which she held tightly in her small hand. She wept inconsolably. "Ma-ma! Ma-ma!"

"Oh, sweetie—!" Gregor lifted his hand to stroke her head.

"You must not weep," said the Death Rider soothingly, rocking her back and forth. "Come, there is your brother who was concerned about you." Yet when he attempted to pluck her from his head, she resisted with all her might.

It took him a minute or so to untangle her baby fingers from his soaked hair strands. When he had finally loosened her hold, she clung to the fur of his collar instead. "No! Don't let go! No!"

"Little lady," said the Death Rider firmly, poking one of her cheeks with his finger. "Your place is there, with your brother. Look how sad he is! Wish you for him to be sad?"

"He let go!" she wailed. "He let go in the water! Don't let go!"

"He did not mean to," argued the Death Rider, and patted her head before adamantly pulling her off of his collar.

"I didn't mean to!" concurred Gregor, distraught. "Boots, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." He finally took her from the Death Rider, yet as soon as he held her in his arms, her small fist hit his arm.

"No! No!"

"Boots, I'm sorry." He swayed her back and forth, fighting his own tears, but she wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

"Have you got her?" asked the Death Rider, and only when Gregor nodded did Thanatos move away. In all this time, the outcast hadn't mounted down, and from the glance Gregor caught at the contraption holding him in place, it didn't seem as though he could, without hassle.

Gregor was so taken up with Boots that he nearly jumped when Ares dropped a sodden Thalia beside him before collapsing himself. The little bat was waterlogged, probably going into shock, but she was still fighting. Nike landed by his side, and Gregor's heart filled with relief at the sight of Hazard in her claws . . . but his hope dissipated when he saw that the boy appeared lifeless. His pale skin had a bluish tint, and blood ran from a deep gash in his forehead, with no movement in his chest.

Howard rushed to his side, attempting to restore his breathing. Before Luxa could sprint toward them, she was caught by the Death Rider, who had dismounted and firmly restrained her. He was more than a head taller and much stronger—no matter how hard she fought, she could not break his hold.

"Luxa, you cannot help him!" He gritted his teeth in pain as she dug her nails into his hand. "You cannot help him!"

Gregor had her other arm. "Let Howard do it!" he urged. "He's an expert!"

Luxa angrily brushed off his hand, and Gregor flinched back, looking at the outcast gratefully. No one else could have held her. Gregor wasn't strong enough, Aurora still lay on the floor, gasping for breath, and Howard was preoccupied with Hazard.

Suddenly, the bats' heads twitched, as did the Death Rider's. "We cannot stay here." He released Luxa with one hand, and surprisingly, she did not break free. On the contrary, she hung on to him like a lifeline.

"What do you—?" Before Gregor could finish his sentence, the earth beneath his soles quivered again, though not nearly as violently as before. An aftershock, thought Gregor. Was that not what it was called?

"Brace!" the Death Rider screamed, seizing Gregor's arm and pulling him and Luxa closer to the wall.

"Oh!" exclaimed Boots, whom Gregor still held tightly. In his periphery, he spotted Thanatos dragging a dazed Aurora to the wall; Ares had Thalia, and Nike followed behind on her own. Howard was the only one who still hunched over Hazard, appearing as though he hadn't even registered what was happening.

The jarring clash of stone against stone brought Gregor's gaze back to the opening of the Swag. He watched helplessly as the already damaged wall above the tunnel began to break away. Moments later, a loud crash assaulted his ears, and he raised the flashlight just in time to see the avalanche cover the entrance to the Swag with a mound of rock.

The force of the avalanche was enough to send waves splashing over the edge of their haven. Gregor rubbed his eyes dry and found everyone still where he had last seen them; no one had been washed away, nor could anyone get any wetter.

After the aftershock subsided, everyone's attention turned to Howard, who still pumped Hazard's chest, oblivious to it all. No one moved as the seconds dragged on. Luxa had stopped fighting the Death Rider; judging by the way she clung to him, Gregor thought she was tempted to hide in his cloak.

He could not tell how much time had passed when Howard's scream finally shattered the tense air: "His heart beats!"

Everyone instantly came to life. Luxa released the Death Rider and vaulted forward, dropping by Hazard's side. "He lives? He lives?" Gregor could not tell whether the words were meant as a question.

Howard pumped one last time, and finally, water gushed from Hazard's mouth. Howard rolled him on his side and let Luxa comfort him as he retched.

As soon as he saw that she had Hazard, he leaped up and over to Nike's picnic hamper, pulling out a large leather box. Leave it to Howard to think about packing a first-aid kit, thought Gregor. It had never even crossed his own mind. He thought about his mom's words—that he might become a doctor too—only to dismiss them immediately. If anything, this proved that he wasn't cut out for it.

Just then, Howard tapped his shoulder. "Have you light? I must stitch his wound."

Gregor nodded, forcing himself back into the here and now. He upturned his backpack and offered Howard the three flashlights he had packed. After selecting the strongest one, Howard handed it to Luxa, who still cradled Hazard, and instructed her to hold it for him as he cleaned and sewed up the gash in Hazard's forehead with quick, deft strokes.

Gregor stuffed one flashlight back into his backpack, along with the ten-pack of batteries. The other one he stuck into his belt pocket, where he had ready access to it. His gaze found the Death Rider over by the bats, and he asked himself if he had a torch. Theirs had been lost in the flood, and apart from Boots' scepter and Gregor's flashlights, they had no light.

"Will he recover?" asked Luxa, directing Gregor's attention back to Hazard.

Howard shone the flashlight into Hazard's pupils. "Oh, yes," he confirmed with a reassuring smile. "Just a knock on the head and a bit too much water. Next time you are thirsty, Hazard, you might try a cup instead of a river."

"I will." Hazard managed to give them a weak smile.

Thalia, who had made her way over to them from the group of huddled bats, erupted into hysterical laughter that quickly transformed into sobbing. Gregor fought back a shiver. It must've all been too much for Thalia. Then again, it probably had been for all of them.

Nike scuttled over and embraced the young bat in her wings, comforting her until she could settle and rest, while Howard stripped off Hazard's damp clothes and covered him with a blanket. "I wager that your head aches." He gave Hazard a swallow from a green bottle that Gregor recognized as a painkiller. "Try and lie still. Can you do that?"

Hazard gave a nod, and Howard stood up. "Alright, then. How fare you others?"

They all just stared at him, their injuries so pale in comparison to Hazard's that no one felt they could complain. Except for Boots, of course. "Gre-go let me go!" she complained, wriggling out of his arms to run toward Howard. "Look!" She tugged at his pant leg and held up her little pointer finger. It would have been an exaggeration to call it a cut. A nick, maybe.

"Oh, dear!" Howard kneeled before her and inspected her finger. "We must address that immediately. As for you others . . ." He raised his gaze to glare at the rest of the group over Boots' head. "Line up, all of you. I do not want anyone being "brave"."

It took less than a minute to fix up Boots, and then Howard worked his way through the rest of the party, stitching up cuts and checking for broken bones.

They were banged up and bruised, but no one else had serious injuries. Luxa, who had been holding Hazard while the others were treated, came up last. She had sprained a finger on her left hand. The whole time, while Howard immobilized it with a thin strip of stone and fabric, she stared at the floor. Only when he cut the last strip of gauze did she look up. "I am so grateful that you came."

"I would like that to be carved in stone," retorted Howard. "For when you next decide who to invite to picnics."

"I too, actually. This does seem like my type of . . . picnic."

Howard whipped around to where the Death Rider loafed by the wall. Gregor followed his gaze and, for the first time, processed properly that the outcast was here.

Immediately, he froze in place, staring at him . . . How long had it been since they had last met? Memories flashed in his mind . . . of the Fount. Of a trial. It had been half a year—half a year without a word, without a trace. Gregor recalled sitting with Luxa and Hazard, speculating what he might be doing. Whether he indulged in all kinds of grand adventures while they spent their time idly in Regalia. But not even Ripred, who frequented the Dead Land, had heard much about the Death Rider since the episode with Dalia and Longclaw.

Gregor took the outcast in and allowed the mounting worry he had felt for him to slip, bringing about his first smile of the day. At first glance, he didn't even seem so different. His hair was yet again longer and messier, and he had now draped himself in a heavy cloak made out of fur and leather. Gregor squinted, attempting to discern if he also carried more weapons—it was hard to tell with the cloak.

When he took in his slouched stance, Gregor was momentarily struck by how closely it mirrored Ripred's signature pose. This brought on a wave of familiar worry; despite his dislike for the echolocation lessons, it was alarming that he hadn't seen Ripred in over two months—not since before his encounter with Twirltongue. While he thought Ripred knew how to take care of himself, the rat had never stayed away for so long, especially since Gregor had taken to spending so much time in Regalia.

With a silent sigh, Gregor shoved the thoughts aside. It seemed as though Lizzie, who worried about Ripred day and night, was getting to him. But they had other concerns right now.

"So." Howard inspected the Death Rider head-to-toe. "I believe that I instructed all of you to line up earlier?"

"First of all, you may not instruct me," retorted the outcast. "Second, I have no need for your attention. I was not even in the flood."

Howard's eyebrow shot up. "Were I a smaller person, I would take offense to such words," he said sourly. "But I am a doctor, and I see a damp bandage on your arm. However you received that injury, it should be assessed after exposure to freshwater. So let us not delay the inevitable and come over here. You are the only one left."

The Death Rider merely rolled his eye, and Gregor thought that if he kept this act up, he would start to resemble Ripred far more closely than should be possible for a human.

It was then that Thanatos came up beside his bond, nudging him. "Oh, why not? It will not kill you to humor him," said the bat with the white face in a contented voice.

"How do you know that it will not kill me?" The Death Rider crossed his arms. One moment of silence passed, then he threw his hands in the air and groaned. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "Fine, fine, fine. Have at thee, you honorable doctor."

Howard blissfully ignored his jab and examined him as he had everyone else. It turned out just as the Death Rider had claimed—he wasn't at all injured from the flood. But Howard discovered several older wounds, all in various stages of healing. He insisted on tending to all of them properly, and after a while, the outcast stopped complaining and just sat there, looking like he wanted to throw Howard down into what was now a foaming lake.

When Gregor next looked around, he realized that they had all gathered around the two, save Hazard, whom Luxa had put to sleep with Boots and Thalia.

After Howard finished fastening the Death Rider's last bandage, Luxa took one step toward him. "Thank you for saving Hazard."

"He is my cousin," said Howard simply, with a smile. "As are you."

In answer, Luxa locked him in a hug.

"Oh, no. Are you actually embracing me?" Howard hugged her back, grinning at the others over her shoulder. "And it only took an earthquake, a flood, and an avalanche to get it."

They all laughed, even the bats and Temp. Even Luxa. All of them . . . save the Death Rider, who sourly stared at the floor and tugged at his fresh bandage. "This is all very heartwarming," he said frigidly. "But what will you do now? I take it whatever "picnic" you had planned is off the table?"

In an instant, all laughter ceased. Everyone stared at him incredulously, only then processing the gravity of the situation. Gregor whipped around and stared at the remnants of the entrance to the Swag . . . It had been their way back. And now . . . it was cut off.

"Isn't this just the finest mess?" The Death Rider took them all in, shaking his head. "I'm not usually one to repeat myself, but what in the name of Sandwich are you all doing here this time? And don't even think about claiming you've actually gone out for a picnic."

Howard gingerly released Luxa. "You should inquire about that from Gregor and Luxa. They were the ones who instigated this."

"Only because of you are the small ones here!" Luxa hissed, her voice void of any remaining gratitude.

"But you—"

"Guys!" called Gregor without really meaning to, feeling the sudden tightness in his throat as all attention focused on him. "We're all here now; blaming each other won't change that. And . . ." He turned toward the Death Rider. "And you're here too!"

"You are here," repeated Luxa incredulously, staring at the outcast as though she had only just processed his presence. Then, her eyes lit up in a way that he hadn't seen since she had received her crown.

"I am here," he concurred with a sigh, his eye wandering across the battered, soaked questers. "I shall tell you my story if you tell me yours."

***

The Death Rider swiftly retrieved a working torch and stood it up in the middle of the plateau. The questers huddled around it, leaving only Thalia, Hazard, and Boots to sleep. As Gregor sat there, between Luxa and Ares, he thought the whole thing resembled an old-fashioned campfire well enough.

"Tell us about yourself first!" urged Luxa, sliding back and forth. Gregor realized that she had to be far more excited to see the Death Rider than she had let on before. He vividly recalled with how much admiration she had spoken about him every time they had speculated where he might be during the last half year.

The Death Rider, sitting cross-legged between her and Thanatos, gave her an amused look. "We were following . . . Halt." His smile dropped, and his brow creased. "Could it be that you are here to uncover the fate of the vanished nibbler colonies?"

Luxa's smile fell, and she froze. "You have knowledge of this?"

"Death and I came across the abandoned jungle colony a few days ago," the outcast said. "We set off to uncover what had transpired, meeting with Cevian by the Queenshead after—"

"You met with Cevian?!" Luxa cut him off, almost toppling the torch as she jumped up.

"We did," said the Death Rider with a grim face. "And you will not like what I must now tell you."

With growing dread, Gregor listened to the Death Rider's account of Cevian's story, her revelations, and the details of her death. Luxa, who had settled back down, remained motionless, her jaw firmly set and her gaze never once leaving him.

"We could not prevent it," said Thanatos after the Death Rider had ceased speaking. "And we could not discover why they hunted and assassinated her in such a deliberate manner."

"I cannot believe that she was killed just like that," mumbled Nike. "She, who was so kind to us when we camped in the jungle."

"Something dreadful is upon us, something dreadful," whispered Temp.

Ares nodded. "I am both anticipating and fearing the moment we will find out what."

"I would like to thank you for avenging her," said Luxa stiffly.

"She was our friend, just as she was yours," replied the Death Rider.

In the flickering torchlight, Gregor caught sight of them facing each other, both wearing grim expressions, both exhausted and soaked from the water. Once again, he couldn't shake the feeling that they looked oddly alike.

It had only been a brief moment back in the jungle, but now . . . ? Gregor's heart skipped. Maybe it was because Luxa had matured considerably over the past year, but at that moment, he could have sworn their faces had the same shape, and their eyes . . . His was much darker, but they held a similar kind of shine. Gregor narrowed his eyes at the outcast, suddenly overcome by a strange sense of recognition. Where had he seen this face before?

"She wouldn't have wished for you to mourn her," said the Death Rider, turning away. "Not when there is action to be taken. Lives to be saved."

Gregor shook his head. He had to stop imagining things . . . He was tired and stressed; not even he would trust his own judgment now.

"You . . . are right," said Luxa. "So, think you that the colony moved just like those gnawers wanted? Have you any more leads as to where to?"

The outcast shook his head. "We have followed Teslas' trail here, but we know not where he went after the Swag. His pawprint was our last clue."

"A pawprint?" interjected Ares. "We also discovered one. It smelled of nibbler blood."

"We had planned to explore in all directions from here, but then we sensed the earthquake . . . and found you." The outcast gazed around the assembly. "I mean, I expected you to follow my trail, but I did not expect you this soon."

"Your trail?" asked Luxa. "We did not know you were here. We followed the nibblers, and . . ." She paused, glancing over at Hazard. "Then there were those symbols everywhere. The . . . scythes."

"Those were my trail."

"They were left by you?" exclaimed Howard.

"In Teslas' workshop, Death and I found the first one," said the Death Rider to Luxa. "Along with a request to spread the scythe . . . like a warning. Cevian mentioned that they sent you your crown, so I anticipated your arrival and attempted to leave a trail for you to follow."

"I . . . am very grateful." She lowered her gaze. Then her head flew up again. "But if we have the same goal, we may as well continue together from now on . . . no?"

The Death Rider frowned. "You cannot afford to continue anything." He glanced over at Thalia, Hazard, and Boots. "Hazard is gravely injured. You must make your way back . . . Whose idea even was it to bring the young ones?"

"They would not be here, hadn't it been for Howard," retorted Luxa with a glare at her cousin.

"They would not be here, hadn't Gregor told that ridiculous lie," Howard shot back, and Gregor tensed, feeling his cheeks flush.

"Hey, I was—"

"This is quite enough blame placed," the Death Rider cut in. "I care not who is to blame. The truth is that the young ones are here, and we cannot change that."

Gregor exhaled gratefully. He had no desire to talk about the alleged date now, especially not in front of the Death Rider.

"He is right. We must find a way to get the children back to Regalia," said Ares quietly, looking at the outcast. "Know you a way from here?"

To their surprise, Howard replied instead: "I am afraid that, as much as I desire to get all of you home, it is easier said than done."

"Are we not in Hades Hall?" asked Thanatos.

Howard nodded. Noticing Luxa's and Gregor's puzzled looks, he elaborated: "It is a long passageway that goes very deep into the earth. There are only two ways to gain entrance to it: on this end, the Swag, which is no longer an option. And at the far end, many miles from here, in the Firelands."

Gregor's heart instantly sank. "Not those again."

"I have heard dreadful rumors about the Firelands," said Nike. "Are they not contaminated with toxic gases and populated by unknown dangers?"

"Partially," replied Thanatos. "Although they are traversable enough."

"Isn't there another way?" asked Ares.

"I am afraid not," said Howard. "There are some caves, but no other tunnels."

"And how long will it take?" asked Aurora, looking at Thalia.

"The journey should require about five days of travel," replied Howard. "Three for Hades Hall, and two to get back to Regalia. But before we begin, we must eat and rest. We are all in need of recovery, and I would not move Hazard so soon."

"And you . . . know how to get back to Regalia from the Firelands?" Thanatos asked Howard.

"I . . . will find a way." He did not look at any of them, and an uneasy feeling rose in Gregor's gut. He glanced back and forth between Howard and the Death Rider, who had not moved yet.

"Why can you not lead us?" Luxa voiced the one question that had been on Gregor's mind as well, staring directly at the outcast.

"Because I must follow the nibblers," he retorted in an odd voice. "I cannot afford to lose time babysitting you all again or guiding you back to your city because you, for some inexplicable reason, have decided to bring children."

"That is not—" Luxa broke off, staring at him with noticeable hurt in her eyes.

"I cannot," he said with conviction, leaping to his feet. He took one look around, and Gregor attempted in vain to read the emotion in his eye. "I have aided the lot of you enough. I shan't do it again." With that, the outcast pivoted on his heel and turned his back on them.

His words left the assembled questers speechless. Gregor could not fathom why he would be so uncomfortable in their presence. Had they somehow done something wrong?

"Why . . . not?" asked Luxa, standing up and approaching the Death Rider. Before she could touch his arm, he whipped around, and Gregor tensed at the anger in his eye. Although most of it broke away the moment his gaze met Luxa's. "Why would you say that?" she asked again, and Gregor wondered if he had ever heard her sound so genuinely . . . hurt. "Have we done something to upset you?"

"No." The outcast flinched, whipping toward her again. "No, do not say that. Please do not ever say that." He sounded more lost than he ever had. For a moment, Gregor thought he had meant to reach for Luxa's hands or shoulders, but then he crossed his arms instead. "It is merely that . . . things cannot go on like this, don't you understand?"

"I do not!" she exclaimed. "I already told you that—"

"What is so hard to understand about the fact that an outcast such as myself can never truly be a part of you?"

Her mouth snapped shut at that. A chilling silence descended over their group, and Gregor couldn't shift his gaze from the Death Rider, feeling a pang of pain. He stared at Luxa, standing across from him, and thought about her words after Dalia's trial: And so you have earned our . . . my trust. Regardless of the wisdom of this decision, I want you to understand. And never forget.

"I trust you too." Gregor tensed when he felt all eyes on him after speaking the words. "I mean, about what Luxa said last time," he began to stammer. "I know I didn't say it and . . . and that you probably feel like you don't belong with us because you're an outcast, but I trust you. You proved it so many times now. That we can trust you, I mean . . ." Gregor cleared his throat, wringing his hands. "I mean . . . what I mean is—"

"Dangerous words," replied the Death Rider icily. "You know not even why I am an outcast, not even my real name. You know not even whom you are so carelessly inviting into your little quester circle."

"You have proven your loyalty to us," mumbled Luxa, but Gregor saw a flash of doubt dart across her face again.

"You would invite me into your circle, yet not your society," said the Death Rider. "I need neither. I need no absolution from you."

Gregor sat rooted to the spot, wondering what he could possibly mean by that. Yet as he scrutinized the outcast, he suddenly saw him in a different light. He still saw the competent veteran who protected and tackled any threat, yet he also saw a sunken, outlandish man with rough clothes, an almost frightening array of weapons, and long, tousled hair, most of which loosely hung in his face. There was a large purple circle beneath his eye, yet the sheer abundance of scars he did not attempt to conceal anymore troubled Gregor more than anything else.

When the Death Rider claimed to not belong with them, Gregor wanted to object, but he couldn't deny that he did stand out from the rest of them. He did not look like a Regalian . . . and not like anyone else he knew.

His thought from the last time they had seen him came to mind—how Gregor himself didn't know where his true place was. He flashed back to his own sleepless nights when he lay tossing and turning, torn about where he truly belonged.

Gregor had always regarded the Underland as a wicked trap, intent on manipulating him for its own prophetic ends . . . until just last year. Then, his mind filled with joyful images: the lively High Hall, the lush dinner table crowded with familiar faces, the decorated arena on his fourteenth birthday, him and Ares scoring in Airball, and the moments of laughter and dancing with Luxa at Hazard's party.

When he next looked back at the Death Rider, he felt certain that he had been right. "It's not about absolution or belonging to a society," said Gregor quietly, once again drawing all attention. Yet this time, he didn't let that intimidate him. "It's about belonging with us. I mean, sometimes you can be a bit of a . . . I mean—" Gregor cut himself off before he could have said "jerk" to his face. "But none of that matters because you're our friend. Knowing your name or . . . what you did to become an outcast doesn't change that." Gregor shoved the thought that it may not be wise to claim this so carelessly aside. He was through with judging people based on anything but his own experiences with them. "You're our friend," he repeated. "You've proven that ample times. That . . . That you are a part of this team, because . . ." Gregor stammered; in that moment, all his unexpected eloquence abandoned him, and his mind went blank. He had never been great at speaking, and he had never craved the ability until now.

"You belong because you proved you want to stand with us many times." Everyone turned to Ares, who picked up Gregor's train of thought, and Gregor threw him a relieved smile.

"You have," echoed Aurora. "Your eye was lost in exchange for our lives."

"You led us through the jungle!" exclaimed Nike. "Without you, we would have been lost in the Vineyard."

"Many have you to thank for their lives, many have," mumbled Temp. "Zick tells grand tales of you to all who will listen, Zick tells."

"Without you . . . Twitchtip and I would have drowned. Stellovet would have died in that pit, and Longclaw would be the new rat king." Gregor shuddered at the image of the white arena sand. Of the hundreds of vicious eyes eager to watch him battle to his death.

A moment of heavy silence went by. "They all speak the truth," said Luxa at last, smiling. "Without you, most of us would have long lost our light. I already said that you have proven your loyalty. That I . . ." She hesitated. "Gregor is right in saying that I trust you. Do not give me a reason to resign that trust."

He had seen him speechless before, yet Gregor had never seen the great veteran Death Rider—who must be the biggest, most obnoxious loudmouth since Ripred—this genuinely . . . lost. "You are all mad," he mumbled eventually, shaking his head. "All of you . . ."

He glanced them over as if searching for anyone who disagreed. Then he finally stopped to stare at the only one who hadn't spoken yet. "All except you," he said to Howard. "Surely, you do not agree with them."

Howard scowled. "Ask me not to send you away because you wish to be sent away. You care about my opinion? Fine." Howard, squinted, lifting his chin. "Do I trust you? No. Do I think it is wise to trust you? Most certainly not." Before the Death Rider could interject, Howard continued, "Then again, can I deny that what they just said is true? That many of us and many of my loved ones owe you much? Unfortunately," he blew out a breath, "I cannot either. My sister may still talk about you far too often." He made a face. "But she does owe you her life. Believe me, I would take great satisfaction in condemning you . . . but it seems that you are determined to prevent me from doing so."

As though he hadn't seemed lost enough already, the outcast was left speechless, surrounded by appreciative gazes, with Luxa at the center. Before he could find his voice again, someone else who had not spoken yet appeared behind him. "Naturally, we will see to it that you find your way home," Thanatos said to the questers. "We would never abandon you."

"But I—"

"Oh, will you at last cease pretending that not guiding them was ever a consideration?" Thanatos nudged his bond, who glared at him yet didn't speak.

"Please, will you?" asked Luxa, and he pivoted back to her. In his eye, Gregor could identify the exact moment when he yielded.

"Fine!" the Death Rider blurted out after another silent moment. "Fine, fine, fine. Take ease, the lot of you, lest I become too used to all of this. But I suppose I should stand with my . . . friends. This does not mean that I accompany you to Regalia, by the way!" he amended. "I guide you out of Hades Hall, and then we part ways so that I may follow the nibblers and you may bring your children home. Do we have a deal?"

Luxa smiled, then extended her hand toward him. "Deal."

It only took him a few heartbeats to take it.