Henry smiled at the device, the "camera", as Gregor had called it. Then he looked up, surveying the others. His torch fuel had run out shortly after they had looked through the photos, and he had decided to send them all to sleep for a few hours.

Henry contemplated how many secret pictures he could take of various people to use for blackmail later when a voice spoke beside him: "Can I see?"

Henry looked down at Boots, who clung to his fur boot again. "Why are you not asleep with your brother?" he asked, scooping her up. "We must all rest for as long as we can still afford."

This was a safe enough spot, or so the stingers claimed. Who knew how many of those would lie in their path going forward?

Henry extended his perception, sensing Howard close to Cartesian, Luxa, and Aurora, along with Hazard and Thalia. Just a few feet away, he saw Gregor sitting up; the lone beam of his small flashlight pierced the darkness.

"If you are looking for her, search no longer." Henry adjusted Boots in his arms and began walking toward the Overlander, who breathed out in relief. "And you, little lady," he whispered into Boots' ear, "you must watch what you say, lest you spill my secret. And we want no such thing, do we?"

Boots giggled, tugging at his hair again. "But you make me fly!"

Henry sighed. Out of all who could have recognized him, at least it had been the baby, whom nobody took seriously enough for it to really matter.

"Let her nap less during the day," said Henry to Gregor as he handed her over to him.

"Yeah, I should probably do that," the Overlander replied. "I'll do my best to put her to bed . . . and I'll go to sleep too. Who's taking watch?"

"The stingers said they'd keep an eye open," announced Henry, giving the Overlander a last pat before leaving him to sleep. His flashlight went out moments later, and Henry's feet carried him to where he sensed Thanatos. Or at least . . . he came to an abrupt halt. To where he had sensed Thanatos when he had last checked.

When Henry consciously searched for his bond, he found him already soundly asleep, by the side of . . . no, his perception did not deceive him: Nike.

Henry stood there, grinning widely as he observed the two fliers, and suddenly cursed the darkness. There was hardly a better motive for a potential blackmail photo . . . alas.

He quickly found a spot for himself close to the wall, yet he couldn't look away from the two fliers, and he couldn't cease smiling either. So, after all this time, someone else had gotten through to Thanatos. It wasn't like she hadn't put in the effort.

On the contrary, it was painfully obvious how much interest she had. Yet he still hadn't expected this progress so quickly. Not with someone like Thanatos, whom Henry suspected to be the only one who hadn't caught on yet.

And yet . . . here they were. Henry felt warmth rise within him at the sight of the two together like this.

All the times he had witnessed Nike attempting to break through his hard shell replayed before his inner eye and his smile widened. Who knew—perhaps it had been due to his advice to be more direct that she had been successful today?

***

When they awoke the next morning, it felt like a true awakening. Not just from sleep, but also from the odd yet fleeting bliss of the previous day.

They shared a comparably meager breakfast, and Henry wrestled with images from his dreams, which had once again been nightmares: a sea of corpses, the colossal form of the Bane laughing maniacally.

All that he had suppressed since before the battle against the stingers was suddenly at the forefront of his mind again, and he could barely sit still from anxiety. Seeing how quiet and grim the others looked, he thought it must be the same for them. It was time to press on.

The stingers readily helped them work out their next move. The gnawers would have the mouth of the tunnel blocked, but the stingers knew the area far better than them. They suggested following a series of tunnels deeper into the Firelands, and while it meant a longer flight to Regalia, there would be larger open spaces to fly and less chance of being trapped.

Luxa and Henry did not bring up their plan to pursue the nibblers as opposed to heading back to Regalia, but they exchanged a meaningful look that told Henry that neither of them would give this mission anything but their all. He also acknowledged that it had been a long time since he had found any sign of Teslas. Instead of fretting, he attempted to reassure himself that they must have gone another way after leaving Hades Hall. If he had been trailing the colony from the Fount, who knew where he had gone after they had met their demise? He hadn't lain with them at the bottom of that cliff; Henry had made certain of that.

"And they say be watchful of the currents," said Hazard as he rejoined the group after helping Temp translate.

Henry's forehead creased. He had never heard of any currents in the Firelands. "We shall," he replied anyway, letting his gaze wander in search of Thanatos and finding him already helping Thalia onto his back. He spoke gently to her, and she gazed at him with admiring eyes, as did Nike, who spoke to them both enthusiastically.

"She has finally achieved what none of us others could," said Ares behind him suddenly. "Over what now is three—no, four—journeys, not one of us could persuade him to open up. Nike seems to have succeeded at last. Then again, maybe it is unsurprising, considering her . . . special interest in him."

"Did she, by any chance, implement my advice?" asked Henry, turning toward him.

"I am uncertain," replied Ares. "But at least she has finally gathered the courage to approach him directly instead of repeating back to us others all the things she had not been brave enough to say to him."

Henry broke into a fit of laughter. "I pity you," he said. "I wager she did not shut up for a single moment."

"Not one." Aurora on Ares' other side sighed. "And although it was endearing and . . . a little exciting at first, it quickly became grueling."

"Especially because she repeats herself time and time again," added Ares. "And it feels wrong to know better how she feels about him than he does."

"So relay her feelings to him." Henry shrugged.

Ares' ears twitched up. "But we must not do that," he mumbled. "We must not intervene like so."

"Why not?" asked Aurora, to Henry's surprise. "If she had continued in this manner for any longer, I would have gone to him myself. It is not like he doesn't appreciate directness."

"That is what I said!" exclaimed Henry.

"But . . . it is none of our business," mumbled Ares. "Why must we mess with something that does not concern us?"

Henry rolled his eye. "I thought specifically that it concerns you because she will not cease speaking about him?"

"What are you gossiping about here?" asked Luxa suddenly, coming up beside Henry.

"Nothing too groundbreaking." Henry shrugged. "Only Nike's infatuation with Thanatos."

"I hear that she has made progress at last," said Luxa with a grin.

"I hear so too," said Aurora.

"I wish to hear no more." Ares sighed.

"Guys . . . is there a problem?" They all whipped around to Gregor, who held Boots in his arms, a look of frustration on his face.

"None at all." Henry grinned, then clapped his hands in his usual fashion. "We fly on!"

It took less than a minute to assume the same seatings on the fliers as the day before. Thanatos led the way with Thalia and Temp, followed by Nike with Howard and Cartesian, and Aurora with Gregor, Boots, and Luxa. Ares with Henry and their sole supply crate took the rear.

If anything, Henry found it at least not as uncomfortable as yesterday to fly with Ares. They had mostly remained in a somewhat awkward silence, only made better by the fact that Ares didn't seem to recognize him. But after their little celebration yesterday, it was as though he had warmed up to all of them a little more . . . even to the flier with whom he shared mutual betrayal.

They made good ground. Soon, the scape around them transformed into the same sleek black stone that made up the walls around where Kismet used to live; Henry recalled Thanatos referring to it as obsidian.

Following around six hours of travel, they landed at a spring-fed pool. After short consideration, Henry deemed the spot a suitable campsite, although he cautioned the others to tread carefully as the floor was made of slippery volcanic rock. "Rest and prepare a meal," he instructed. "I'll scout for shells or any other edible items upstream. Howard, tend to all injuries as necessary."

Howard made a face in response to his authoritative tone but complied. Once Henry saw that the others were settling down, he began taking large steps up the stream. In truth, he'd realized he wanted some time away from them all. The fact that he still had no trace of Teslas and the return of the nightmares bothered him, and he had difficulties concealing it from everyone as it was.

There was Boots recognizing him; there was the flight with Ares . . . Henry fumbled at his pocket, tempted to pull out the photo he had taken of Hazard and Thalia—claw in hand, surrounded by smiling faces. How had his own joyous bonding ceremony turned into such a catastrophe, while the one where he had been barely conscious and in terrible pain had cemented one of the best choices of his life?

Henry carelessly kicked a pebble into the water. Yesterday had been . . . exhilarating, yet with each passing moment, it all began to seem increasingly bittersweet. For a few precious hours, he had almost let himself forget that he was not truly himself—not Henry—around them, and he was still struggling to readjust back to reality.

It struck him that he hadn't fully acknowledged just how much he had yearned for the sense of community and connection that had surrounded him yesterday, for the first time in . . . he couldn't recall how long.

But none of it was for Henry. Because when he was with them, he was not Henry. To Henry, they would never show any of the affection and adulation they showed the heroic, mysterious persona he played for their sake—the Death Rider. How exactly were they different, he suddenly wondered—the Death Rider and Henry?

Henry groaned. Here he was—brandishing his new, dazzling identity that he had worked so hard on, and yet . . . Had he not meant to reinvent himself, to become someone he could . . . like again? And he had succeeded. He had . . . But if he had succeeded, why did it not feel like a success at all?

Lost in thought, Henry followed the river's path. He was so engrossed in his own mind that he almost missed the deep pit in his path, had it not been for the sharp warning of his footsteps. Immediately alert, he registered Luxa and Howard's calls behind him, as well as another voice: "I ice skate!"

Henry barely managed to grab Boots before she could plummet into the pit, sliding on the slick surface. "Take heed, lest—" As Henry's attention turned to the floor of the pit for the first time, he froze. His arm tightened around Boots as his other hand sought Mys.

It was not merely a pit; there was something—someone—down there. Henry focused and made out shallow breathing, but the creature lay still. It wasn't attacking or even moving.

He carefully set Boots down and instructed her to hold onto his leg. Then, Henry did something he hadn't done in a while—he snapped his fingers. The silence here was so unbroken that he saw it fit to intentionally disrupt it and gain a sharp, clear picture of the situation before possibly walking into a trap. Yet the image his sound painted was, to say the least, puzzling.

Moments later, he perceived the flapping of wings above him, and with the fliers came the rest of the questers. "What have you found?" asked Howard.

"I shall see," replied Henry. Without further hesitation, he handed Boots to a bewildered Gregor and slid down into the pit, closely followed by Thanatos. He disregarded the calls as to whether he needed light and focused on the shape before him.

"It cannot be . . ." whispered Thanatos.

As soon as Henry processed what his mind had been refusing to acknowledge so far, he froze in place, tempted to agree. A few feet away lay a scrawny rat, panting for air. His front teeth were grotesquely overgrown, at least by a foot, and had locked together. They forced his mouth into a painful grimace and distorted his face, making him difficult to recognize with only echolocation. Yet now that he stood there, Henry finally made out on the anguished face the scar.

"Ripred," he mumbled, barely believing his highly attuned senses. The rat locked eyes with him, unable to speak.

Upon his sight, Henry's every fiber tensed. Never had he expected to see Ripred again like this. A million questions swarmed his mind—first and foremost, what to do with him.

As if he had felt his conflict, Ripred groaned, but Henry had no idea what he was trying to convey. Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind—Ripred, on the floor, much like now. Henry above him, only back then he had . . . Suddenly, Henry inexplicably recognized the scene. The situation. The . . . opportunity?

It struck him that this was his sole opportunity to get even. Ripred rarely needed saving, but now they were here—the prince and the gnawer facing each other under such circumstances again. For the second time now, Henry held Ripred's life in his hands . . . Whatever would he do this time?

Oh, who did he think he was fooling? Henry's mouth twisted into a smile as his hand sought Charos' hilt. There was no actual question here.

Gregor scooted down into the pit with a flashlight in hand just in time to see Henry draw the Greatsword and raise it above his head. He fixated Ripred's head with his boot, almost like back with Gorger, when he had cut off the tooth that had later become Mys. Then the giant, black blade descended.

With a single, clean swipe, it tore through all four of Ripred's overgrown teeth, and he slumped forward, gasping. The uneven edges left by the blow cut into his gums until they bled, but his jaws were freed.

Henry remained standing there, Charos firmly in hand. Under the beam of Gregor's flashlight, Ripred locked eyes with him, and Henry spotted a flicker of acknowledgment in his expression, along with something else that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Consider us . . . even, he thought almost solemnly. Consider the wrong I tried to do you righted.

"You may remain there, or you may get up and let Death carry you out," he said to Ripred, sheathing Charos. Then his gaze met the remnants of Ripred's teeth. After a moment of contemplation, he picked up the longest one. It couldn't hurt to have, and . . . maybe make something nice out of it.

As Henry mounted up, Thanatos gave him a knowing look, then seized a still-unmoving Ripred, lifting him out of the pit while Ares fetched Gregor.

"You saved his life," mumbled Thanatos, as though he knew exactly why.

"A life saved for a life almost taken," replied Henry. And he needn't say more.

***

Ripred was in terrible condition. The first thing he requested was water, and Howard instantly opened a water bag and held it while Ripred drank his fill. "I have a rough stone, a small one, for sharpening blades," he offered. "Shall I try to even up your teeth?"

While Howard tended to Ripred, Henry sent the fliers to fish and assigned Hazard and Luxa to replenish the water bags. Once the fish started coming in, he instructed Gregor to prepare something for Ripred to eat, and by the time Howard had finished smoothing out Ripred's teeth, Gregor had a generous bowl of fish mash ready.

When Boots proclaimed that she wanted to feed Ripred, Gregor stepped in. Yet Henry held him back. "No, no, I implore you to let her proceed. This is a rare opportunity; you cannot pass this up!"

When he saw that Henry had already readied the camera, Gregor shot him a disapproving look, yet Henry only grinned and shrugged. He may have saved Ripred, yet he would still take every opportunity to humiliate him, just as the gnawer had done with him on their first quest.

Unfortunately, Howard took the bowl from Boots just as she was about to begin, and Henry resigned himself to settling for a photo of Howard feeding Ripred instead.

Even though Gregor had made several pounds of fish mash, Ripred still required several more bowls to be content. Throughout the entire feeding process, Ripred stared at Henry like he couldn't believe his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm alright now," he hissed after a while, pushing the bowl away, then gingerly opening and closing his jaws. "Can I see that rock?"

Howard gave it to him, and Ripred worked a little on his teeth until they resembled normal gnawer teeth again. When he was then satisfied, he properly glanced around for the first time. "So, so, what brings the Children's Crusade into the Firelands? I don't flatter myself you were looking for me."

Then his gaze fell back onto Henry, and his forehead creased. "Well, would you look at who is also here? It is the lad! Pardon, the Death Rider, as I hear you call yourself these days. Haven't you changed since we last met?" He sized him up and down. "So, you are the babysitter. Or is it the other boy—who even are you?"

"Howard is Luxa's eldest cousin," said Henry with a crooked grin. "And I am indeed the babysitter. So much has changed, future outcast buddy. I shall fill you in as soon as you are in a less pitiful state. Or would that take longer than any of us can afford to wait for?" he snickered.

"Watch whom you call pitiful with that big mouth of yours. And I am not your . . . wait." Ripred frowned at Howard. "Luxa's cousin? Really? Are we still not through with those yet?"

Howard drew in an offended breath, and Henry snorted. "At least we must not fear that the pit has done anything to your oh-so-winning charms," he said. "Or perhaps I should have simply left you there a while longer."

Ripred growled. "Have I lost my fright, or has he always been that insufferable?" he asked the crowd. "Or has he actually grown to be more so, since the jungle?"

"More so," said Howard.

"You have lost in fright what I have gained in power," declared Henry.

"Oh, is that so?"

"You're one to talk," mumbled Gregor under his breath, and Ripred giggled.

"I am one to talk indeed, boy. I am one to ask yet again, what the hell do you children seek in the Firelands?"

"We . . . became lost on a picnic," mumbled Luxa.

Ripred snorted. "I know I'm down at the moment, but don't humiliate me further with transparent lies, Your Highness."

"First of all, we must always humiliate you further," interjected Henry. Before Ripred could retort, he placed a hand on Luxa's shoulder and continued, "Second of all, we may as well tell him that we went after the nibblers."

Luxa shot him a glare, but Henry only glared back. "It is no secret," he said. "And if he has spent more time here, he may have some information."

"Haven't you grown wise and level-headed?" snickered Ripred.

"We are here because one nibbler sent my crown as a plea for help," Luxa begrudgingly explained. "The jungle nibblers have disappeared. Those by the Fount have been . . . driven here to the Firelands."

"My little charge, the Bane, doesn't fancy them much, does he?" said Ripred, grinning sourly. "And what do you mean to achieve by following them?"

"Draw the Regalian army after me. I . . . we," she exchanged a glance with Henry, "said the Vow to the Dead in Hades Hall."

"You two?" Ripred froze in his tracks, glancing back and forth between them with a glimmer of amusement. "So you and he, Your Highness, are now tied together by a vow to wage war in the name of unjust deaths." Ripred showed a toothy grin. "My, my. It seems like only yesterday you were a baby bouncing on your grandpa's knee. And now you're starting wars. They grow up so fast."

"And what would you have done?" asked Luxa coldly.

"Now, I'm in an awkward position, Your Highness." Ripred scratched his ear. "Ordinarily, I'd have said I would have hunted down the Bane and killed him myself, hopefully disabling the serpent by beheading it. Of course, as you've just rescued me from a pit where I was being slowly tortured to death on the Bane's command . . . my advice seems to have less impact."

"He defeated you?" Henry's eyebrow shot up. "Now you've truly lost your fright."

Ripred shot him a glare. "The Bane is not to be underestimated . . . as I've learned. Especially since he never goes anywhere without a flock of followers anymore."

Ripred reluctantly recounted how the Bane had fled from him nearly two months ago and how Ripred had then set out to recapture him. When Ripred had finally found the Bane, his overconfidence and recklessness had resulted in his being overwhelmed and outnumbered by him and his, at that point, quite substantial army. The Bane had then condemned him to the pit, to die a miserable death. Sourly, Ripred declared that he could call himself lucky, as his teeth had locked, as opposed to growing up through his brain. He did not look like he felt overly lucky, though.

"Now you know hubris too," said Henry, less triumphantly than he thought he would be upon hearing about Ripred's defeat.

Ripred's ears twitched. "Whoever taught you that word?"

"Athena," said Henry after a moment's hesitation. "And I mean not the queen of the fliers. But you know that well enough, I wager."

Ripred stared at him as if he'd seen a ghost, but Henry only stared back, not wavering for a moment.

"Whatever the two of you are going on about, we should perhaps decide what to do with ourselves before you carry on," Howard cut in.

"Right, we were about to settle down for a few hours," said Henry. "Ripred, you may as well join us. You look like you need even more rest than we do. We may decide how to proceed in the morning."

And so it was done. They forfeited a shared meal this time. Within five minutes, everyone had their food and settled where they intended to sleep. Gregor sat with Boots, Ares, and Temp; Howard, with Luxa and Aurora, remained by Cartesian's side, while Nike retreated with Thanatos. Only Ripred and Henry remained behind; the gnawer still cast him unreadable glances from time to time.

"What for wait you?" asked Henry eventually. "Rest up. Perhaps when you look less pitiful, you will even regain some fright."

"You should really watch that big mouth of yours, lad," grumbled Ripred. "If I were not in such a . . ."

"A pitiful state?"

Ripred hissed. "One day, you will regret picking a fight with me."

"Or you will," retorted Henry. "Underestimating someone didn't work out so well for you last time, did it?"

"I am not underestimating you." Ripred lashed his tail toward Henry's head, but he had long sensed that it wouldn't actually land, so he didn't even flinch.

"Aw. Are you even grumpier when you are unrested?" Henry mocked, immediately having to dodge another tail lash—not a feint this time. "Gregor, might you take the watch?" he instructed the Overlander, who approached with the empty plate he had taken in hand. "I will pack everything up and then sleep myself."

Gregor nodded.

"Now you let him command you too? How do you lot stand this lad?" Ripred spoke with a tone of exaggerated lamentation.

"The same way we stand you," said Gregor, and both Henry and Ripred broke into laughter.

"Are you stealing my most beloved pastime—commanding these children—away from me now?" Ripred turned toward Henry with an expression of offense.

"I am not stealing; they are choosing. Wouldn't you choose me?" he asked Gregor, who hadn't moved away fast enough.

"I . . ." Gregor froze, making a face. There was a long pause before he finally spoke, with visible strain: "You're both amazing, and you're also both jerks, but you're the less mean one," he finally blurted out, pointing at Henry. Then he practically sprinted away, taking a seat where Ares waited by the river leading into the pond they had crossed earlier.

"Ha!" exclaimed Henry. "I win."

Ripred sat still for a moment. "Hear, hear, the great warrior is growing backbone too," he observed. "Not bad. At least he actually needs it."

"I have taught him well," said Henry with a smile. "And I still win."

"You must be very careful with what you say, my lad."

"Obviously." Henry shrugged, picking up Ripred's plate that, evidently, no one else would wash. After he had taken care of that, he found Ripred had relocated to a massive stalactite formation a little offside from where the others had settled down. And when Henry approached, instead of continuing his mockery, Ripred said something unexpected: "You were thinking about killing me, weren't you?"

Henry halted. "No, I was not. Now, sleep."

But Ripred displayed no such intentions. "Oh?" He rose a little. "What was that look in your eye then? A look as though you were thinking about killing me . . . and then deciding that you were through with that."

Henry froze with the bowl in mid-air. "What?"

With a lazy and oddly . . . triumphant grin, Ripred rolled onto his side. "Oh, quit pretending, lad. I know very well that you held my life in your hands before; I've known it for much longer than you think. Do you believe my nose is good for nothing?" He chuckled. "Seems like, despite my best hopes, you still haven't learned a thing . . . Henry."