"Alright, finish up now. You too, Ripred. We shall depart shortly."

Gregor watched Henry clap his hands in his usual fashion, striding through their group as though nothing had happened. As though everything was as it always had been . . . As though the Death Rider was still just the Death Rider. But he was not, and Gregor still struggled with the implications of this reveal or how exactly to feel about it. Whether he should feel anything at all or just continue as though nothing had happened.

Henry and Thanatos had been throwing him and Ares unreadable glances the entire morning, but other than that . . . maybe it was for the best to act as though nothing had happened, thought Gregor. Maybe that would make it easier to keep this secret, as he had promised.

Gregor swallowed, scooting back and forth. There was no time to speak to Henry, as he had told himself he should. On one hand, this made him anxious; on the other hand . . . like Ares, he wasn't quite sure whether he was ready to speak to him yet. Speak to Henry, not the Death Rider.

"Why must I finish up shortly?" Ripred grumbled, audibly cracking a fish's spine between his freshly whetted teeth. "I must not depart for anywhere."

"Are you not coming with us?" asked Hazard.

"To where?" snarled Ripred. "Certainly not to Regalia."

"What about you, Death Rider? Are you accompanying us further?" asked Luxa suddenly. "Even though we are out of Hades Hall now?"

Henry halted in his tracks. "I . . . may as well." He shrugged, exchanging looks with Thanatos. "For as long as I have no other lead."

He wants to stay, processed Gregor, suddenly reconsidering his position and significance within the group. Being here with them probably meant so much more to him than any of the others would think.

"That's awesome," said Gregor, drawing all attention. "We can definitely use all of your help we can get."

Henry stared at him, stunned, and Gregor gave him a hesitant smile. Henry or not Henry, the Death Rider was someone whose help he would never pass up.

"You stay!" exclaimed Boots, from where she sat with Temp and Thalia, playing "I spy" with the binoculars, and clapped her hands.

"Oh yes, please don't leave!" called Thalia. "Not before you have told us more of your stories."

"And you must protect us on our way!" added Hazard. "Is that not what you do? You protect us," he said, looking at Henry with wide, sincere eyes.

"He protects us," concurred Gregor with a smile. "And he's really great at that."

"Hear, hear, a protector, are we now?" snarled Ripred.

"He is a protector of ours, and a protector of yours, he is," said Temp.

"It appears as though this is the occupation he has chosen for himself," said Howard sourly as he buckled their picnic hamper shut. "I cannot say that he is inept at it."

"He is not." Luxa smiled. "So, may he offer us his services for a while longer?" she asked the outcast, who stared at her, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, fine!" he exclaimed at last. "If even Howard admits that I am a skilled protector, I hardly have a choice."

"Hey!" Howard released the hamper. "I said—"

"But I simply must get some help with the babysitting," interjected Henry. "Don't misunderstand, Howard; you are a fine aid. But whom I really wish by my side is someone with whom I may not only protect the children but also mock them and irritate their nerves. Someone like my outcast buddy," he announced with a lazy grin, pointing at Ripred.

Gregor watched the Death Rider's challenging and surprisingly carefree stance and suddenly couldn't unsee Henry in his grin. Was this how he coped with his worries? By covering them up with confidence?

"You seem to be handling yourself just fine in that department," snarled Ripred. "Either way, if you call me your "outcast buddy" one more time, I will rip your big head off your shoulders. Or maybe I'll wait and stab you in your sleep." He chuckled.

Gregor winced, but Henry didn't seem to care about the low blow whatsoever. "I would like to see you try. But the fact that you are no longer capable of surprising me aside," he continued, "I may call you my outcast buddy all I like. At least going by the conditions of our bet."

"Bet? Oh, right." Ripred scratched his ear. "I did agree to some kind of bet there, didn't I?"

"You did," said Henry, taking a stand before Ripred with his hands on his hips. "One and a half years ago, you made a bet with me. Recall you?"

Gregor registered that the outcasts had everyone's undivided attention now. Nike interrupted herself mid-sentence, and Thanatos and Thalia, to whom she had been speaking, also turned their heads. Temp with Boots appeared next to Gregor, while Ares and Aurora lifted their heads from where they hung behind their bonds. Luxa and Hazard inched closer eagerly, and even Howard, who had checked on Cartesian, cast his concerned gaze toward the two outcasts.

"Are they making a show?" asked Boots as she pushed onto Gregor's lap.

Gregor snorted. Well, in a way they did, he thought. "Just look," he said to Boots. "They like it when people look at them."

Ripred took in the expecting group, inhaled, and then glared at Henry. "I recall now," he said. "So, you think you've won that bet?"

"What bet?" asked Nike.

"In the jungle, Ripred and I made a bet," said Henry. "I bet that, before we would meet again, I would achieve two impossibles—and so I have." Henry took a deep breath and raised a hand, counting on his fingers. "I searched out Kismet, and I convinced her to take me in—impossible number one, check. I studied under her for more than seven months, and I crossed that second threshold. I now call myself a warrior, unlike any non-rager has ever been—impossible number two, check. One day, she will call me her greatest warrior," he said with a wistful smile. "Yet, until then, I will carry out the last thing that I announced. That is, challenge you to a duel," said Henry and tugged off his gauntlet. With one last step forward, he tossed it at Ripred's feet.

The entire party fell into a stunned silence. Gregor briefly wondered if he had misheard. His eyes flickered between the two outcasts—no one just . . . challenged Ripred to a duel. Then he caught the look on Henry's face, and a chill ran down his spine. He was dead serious.

"Did he just . . . ?" asked Luxa.

"But isn't Ripred invincible?" Hazard by her side remarked.

"So is the Death Rider!" exclaimed Thalia. "He told us many tales of his invincibility."

"They want to fight?" asked Boots. "Why fight?"

Gregor couldn't reply. He could only ask himself if Henry had any idea what he was getting himself into, whom he had just challenged. Yet a quick look at Thanatos' face caused Gregor to second-guess his doubts. There was a glint of something in his eyes . . . Something like pride, like excitement. As if he were silently cheering Henry on. Thinking back to Henry in Longclaw's arena, Gregor couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be questioning Henry's choice of opponent but rather the true extent of his capabilities.

"Why do they fight, Gre-go?" insisted Boots.

"Because they're show-offs," mumbled Gregor so quietly that he hoped no one else would hear it.

A ceaseless time later, Ripred finally moved. He slowly picked up the gauntlet, playing with the leather in a manner that suggested complete relaxation. "Is that all so?" he asked, his tail lazily twitching in front of Henry's feet. It jerked up, yet before it could swing at Henry's head, as he presumed had been Ripred's intention, Boots slipped out of Gregor's grip.

"No fighting!" Gregor's mouth opened. Like in slow motion, he watched his baby sister sprint forward with outstretched arms. In one hand, she still held her blinking plastic scepter. "No! No fighting!" she screamed, and . . . Gregor saw the tail, and he saw Boots. He knew instinctively that she was close enough to be caught by it if no one intervened. The moment he processed this, his ears started ringing and his vision fragmented. He didn't remember leaping up, but what he did remember was that his effort was cut short . . . because Henry was faster.

In a fraction of a second, faster than anyone could have been able to react under normal circumstances, Henry swatted Ripred's tail away with his boot and, as if he had sensed Boots coming, pivoted to her. She collided with his other leg, shouting "Ow!" but not hurting herself. The scepter hit the ground, and the lights extinguished.

Gregor stood there, panting, staring at Boots encircling Henry's leg, complaining that her scepter was no longer blinking, and feeling the rager sensation fade. Only when it was gone entirely and he watched Henry scoop her up and rock her, assuring that no one was actually fighting, did Gregor's brain catch up, and he processed what had just happened: He had moved as quickly as his rager instinct had compelled him to . . . and yet Henry had been faster.

He looked at how much closer Henry had been to her and how much more immediately his position was to intervene . . . and still, the fact that he had been faster than his rager instinct left Gregor in a state of utter shock.

"Gregor, all is well," said Luxa next to him. "She is safe."

"I felt the rager thing," he mumbled, but didn't sit down yet. "I felt it take over, and he was faster." He pointed at Henry with a still-shaking finger.

"What?" Ares dropped from his hanging spot behind him. "Are you certain?"

"Oh, yeah." Gregor fought hard to keep an unwarranted wave of fear at bay. Man! What was he so scared of? Henry wasn't his enemy anymore.

"Uh, oh," said Ripred in a sing-song voice. "Did someone just discover that being a rager doesn't only mean that you're not invincible, but also doesn't necessarily make you the most powerful person in the room?"

"How did you even see her coming from behind?" exclaimed Gregor, unable to compose himself yet. "She was behind you!"

"And my tail was on his blind side," added Ripred. "How very interesting indeed." If Gregor didn't know better, he would have called the look in Ripred's eyes one of . . . respect.

"But—"

"No shouting!" shouted Boots immediately as Gregor began again, then stopped. "No angry shouting," she said in a quieter voice, wiggling her pointer finger in his direction.

"I'm sorry," said Gregor instantly, taking deep breaths. "Boots, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I was just worried."

"Rightfully so," Howard chimed in. "You two are not safe to be around for children, are you?" he remarked in Ripred's and Henry's direction.

"I shall keep all children safe," assured Henry, rocking Boots. "And I shall never again be underestimated." He pivoted back to Ripred. "See, I am only fighting him because he is a scoundrel, and I must prove that he's not as all-powerful as he assumes to be," he said to Boots, pointing at Ripred. "But no one will be hurt in this fight . . . except his pride, of course."

"My pride or yours, lad?" Ripred scowled.

"I am no longer one of those you may humiliate!" exclaimed Henry. "Do it with the rest of them; I will gladly join you for that." He snickered, then set Boots down, letting Gregor scoop her into his arms. "But no longer me. No one may humiliate me ever again."

"Did Kismet not tell you to refrain from thinking yourself invincible?"

It was the second time either of them had mentioned this Kismet, and Gregor opened his mouth to ask who she was.

"When have I ever claimed to be invincible?" asked Henry before Gregor could speak. "All I claim is that I can hold my ground against you. That is hardly the same thing."

Ripred broke into hysteric laughter. "Oh, oh, lad, you seem to have picked up more than just fighting skills from her. Very well then." His grin widened. "I can hardly refuse a challenge like this. It's game on, and the outcome won't be what you hope for. You may indeed be a better warrior than any non-rager now, if you have actually crossed the second threshold, but you're still not my match. How many times have you even applied it in actual combat yet?"

"I do not lack practice." Henry scoffed. "Have you not heard of He whom they call "The Great Achilles"?"

Ripred's ears perked up. "Ha!"

"Like . . . from the Greek myth?" asked Gregor.

"It was only an inspiration for the pseudonym." Henry shrugged. "He is renowned as the greatest champion to grace any gnawer arena, and he is I."

"I thought Longclaw invented that to lure more gnawers into his ranks," mumbled Ripred. "I was this close to investigating it further, though. Something about an undefeated human champion in a gnawer arena was just so . . . tempting." He snickered. "So that was you. Perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised."

"You do not mean to say you have actually battled in a gnawer arena?" exclaimed Luxa. "And won?"

"I am the most legendary champion to have ever set foot in any arena," replied Henry. "At least so Splintleg's crowd decrees."

"So you fight for Splintleg now, eh?" asked Ripred, sizing Henry up. "They say Achilles fought over seventy battles and remained undefeated."

"They say the truth," confirmed Henry. "And the next one to battle him shall be you."

"So, he's setting himself up for defeat."

"We shall see." Henry smirked.

"You really think you stand a chance against him?" Gregor blurted out. He couldn't help but see before his inner eye how quickly and seamlessly Henry had saved Boots earlier. "Like . . . defeat him?"

"Who knows?" Henry grinned. "I have more than you know up my sleeve. And also the fact that underestimating opponents is his hubris."

Before Gregor could ask what the odd word meant, Ripred hissed. "My lad, I am not underestimating you. You're powerful, alright, if you've crossed that threshold. But has Kismet not told you that not even she could ever defeat me?"

"What she told me was that one day she would discover a way for us to be your match. Because . . ." Henry paused. "Because someone just ought to prove you wrong when you claim that ragers are the pinnacle of warrior-kind. Because what even is a rager, other than an undeservedly privileged nobody?"

Ripred instantly broke into uncontrollable giggling. "Oh! Oh, lad, you really did spend way too much time with her. What are we going to do with all this good influence she's had on you? It doesn't suit you at all!"

"You have mentioned her multiple times now," Luxa chimed in before Gregor could wonder if he should take that personally as well or if he agreed. "Will you at last enlighten us who this "Kismet" is?"

"And what is that second threshold?" asked Hazard.

"Does it have to do with how you got over the loss of your eye?" asked Gregor, eyeing Boots, where she had sat a little offside with Temp, laying out different-sized pebbles on the ground and speaking energetically. At least the incident earlier didn't seem to have affected her. "You still didn't tell us about that," he said, looking back at Henry.

"I haven't indeed," said Henry, looking back and forth between all of them. "Have we even time?"

"Oh, it shouldn't take that long." Ripred yawned. "Tell them now, so that Gregor, the great warrior there, has time to digest it on his flight."

"Digest . . . what?"

"That the lad here," he gestured at Henry, "has made himself into living, breathing proof that what you spread behind my back about my echolocation lessons, so I hear, is utter garbage."

Gregor listened up. "What does echolocation have to do with anything?" He scooted back and forth, not in any particular hurry to talk about how he had practically given up on the concept . . . and maybe had complained one too many times to Luxa and Ares—and really anyone who would listen—about the lessons.

"It has to do with it because, for one and a half years, you fail persistently at what the lad here would call the first threshold, whereas he . . ." Ripred scrutinized Henry. "Has actually crossed the second now? Has he?"

"He has," confirmed Henry. "And . . . right, you mentioned something to me about him learning echolocation." Then his brow shot up. "But . . . halt. One and a half years? Ripred, you must be doing something wrong. I crossed the first threshold in . . . what? More or less a month?"

"Wait." Gregor couldn't keep quiet for a moment longer. "Wait, wait. Echolocation? You . . ." He stared at Henry. "You use . . . echolocation?" A million thoughts swarmed his mind about how that was impossible. Because it was . . . wasn't it? It seemed impossible, and yet . . .

"He uses echolocation," said Ripred in a far too satisfied tone. "And he uses it to fight. Meaning what he does goes far beyond what I have been . . . attempting to teach you. And would you look at that?" He flung his tail at Henry's head again, and the outcast dodged effortlessly. Without even so much as having to turn his head and look. "It works!" chimed Ripred. "It is, oh, what's that? That's right. Despite your consistent, contrary claims, it is possible." He broke into elated giggles, and Gregor sat there, staring at Henry. Was that how he had sensed Boots when she . . .

"It felt impossible at first." Henry shrugged. "But all it takes is some belief and effort."

"But those are the two exact things the boy there will not put in!" Ripred waved toward Gregor, who felt his face flush with mortification. "Instead, he spreads rumors behind my back. That my lessons are—hear this," he paused for emphasis, "a waste of his time and utterly pointless."

The two outcasts stood there, laughing together, and Gregor wished the earth would burst open almost as much as he had when Henry and Luxa had chanted for him to do the Hokey Pokey.

"But if the student is not making progress, it is usually just as much the teacher who is to blame," Howard cut in all of a sudden. "I have heard rumors about your lessons myself. You know what I have heard? That you are rigid and inflexible, and that you do not put any effort into figuring out what the problem seems to be for Gregor."

Ripred narrowed his eyes at him. "Is that what you've heard?"

"But a teacher must always take their student's needs into account," mumbled Hazard.

"Have we been ridiculing the wrong one here?" asked Henry, pivoting to Ripred. "Because they are right."

"I'm doing the best I can," snapped Ripred. "It is he who fails!"

"And why does he fail?" asked Henry, only to be met with meaningful silence.

"Didn't you want to tell us about yourself? Why am I involved all of a sudden?" asked Gregor, crossing his arms. He wasn't particularly eager to unfurl the whole echolocation-lesson issue here and now, in front of all of them.

"Indeed," said Henry, without taking his eye off of him. "Ripred asked me before to speak with you about the matter. Perhaps I can get to the bottom of this issue." Before Gregor could protest, he continued, "But now, I shall demonstrate to you what it is that I do. When we were in the jungle, Ripred sent me to a hermit gnawer named Kismet to learn something that would carry me through seventy battles and give me confidence that I may put up a fight against Ripred himself."

"So she was your teacher?" asked Hazard.

"An excellent one," concurred Henry. "I would not have anyone else." And the display he then put on left everyone, not only Gregor, in awe. Even Howard gaped in amazement as Henry blindfolded himself and effortlessly evaded every lash of Ripred's tail, every swipe of his claw, as if it were a well-rehearsed routine. It was apparent that there was no real fight, but it was inconceivable for them all that a human could move and dodge like this without relying on their eyesight.

"Now you might understand why I do not carry fuel." Henry grinned ear to ear when he stripped off the blindfold again, maybe ten minutes later.

"I do," said Luxa, her eyes round like marbles. She exchanged a glance with a somewhat concerned-looking Howard, then with an enraptured Hazard. Even the fliers behind them appeared impressed, except for Thanatos.

Gregor said nothing. How could he say anything if his year-long belief had just been disproven? Echolocation was . . .

"So, it appears you weren't exaggerating," said Ripred, finally dropping back onto the ground, his tail lazily swaying around him.

"I sometimes exaggerate, but not this time," replied Henry, putting his hands on his hips. "Think twice before you pick fights with me. And perhaps reevaluate the value of my protection," he said to the questers.

"Oh, fine." Ripred groaned, then turned to the still-shaken party. "I guess I have to admit that he's got a point. Beware him indeed, dears. From what I can tell, he's by far the deadliest fighter your species has produced in . . . possibly ever. Be glad he's on your side, almost as glad as you can be that I am."

"Zick will never stop telling, Zick will not." Temp's antennas shuddered.

Luxa exchanged another glance with Hazard. "We will indeed reevaluate the value of your . . . aid." Gregor wondered if she was talking about how he had sworn allegiance in that pit with the corpses. And the next time Gregor looked at Henry, he did so with a great deal more respect than before as well.

Echolocation was . . . possible. Gregor tried to make himself believe it, but even though he had proof now, it was as difficult to believe as believing that the Death Rider was Henry. Henry who had . . . proven him wrong. In the most flamboyant, theatrical way possible, of course. Maybe it was still Henry, at the end of the day.

"And one day, I shall be Kismet's greatest warrior," Henry said to Ripred. "I shall be the one to make this dream of dethroning ragers into reality."

"Or this lofty goal shall become your own hubris," snickered Ripred.

"I feel compelled to interrupt." Howard suddenly cleared his throat. "For as entertaining as you think your banter is . . . Wouldn't you say that it is time to press on with our mission?" With a firm pull, he heaved the supply hamper up onto Ares' back, and all smiles instantly vanished.

"Howard speaks the truth," mumbled Luxa. "This was . . . one of the most impressive displays I have ever witnessed, and I will not be robbed of the experience of seeing you two duel one day, yet we should postpone this to a more suitable time."

"Just this once, I agree with Howard," said Henry, eliciting more laughter. "We must fly on. And so, you come with us, outcast buddy?" he addressed Ripred.

Ripred hissed. "Was this all a ploy to manipulate me into helping with babysitting the kids? Just know that there will be consequences for this." He gnashed his teeth, and Gregor shivered at the unpleasant sound. "As soon as I am recovered from the most recent, unfortunate events, I will—"

"Gather everything up then," Howard cut him off, helping Hazard stand before glaring at Henry and Ripred. Gregor could have sworn he mumbled, "We really do not need two of the sort" under his breath.

As Gregor looked back at the two smirking outcasts, he couldn't help but once again be unsettled by how alike they were now. Henry, he forced himself to think, keeping his eyes on him. The one who came closer than anyone Gregor knew to be a younger, more ambitious, more inspirational variant of Ripred—even in terms of their strength, as it seemed—was . . . Henry. It was almost ridiculous.

Ripred finally rose and began to scurry in restless circles. "Join the quest . . . quest, schmest, pest." He planted himself before Luxa. "Honestly, what're you even hoping to achieve with this . . . this quest?"

"I already told you: To lure the Regalian army here." The look she gave him was suddenly cold; all joy had vanished from her face the moment Howard had brought up their mission. "They will free the nibblers, and I can—we can—fulfill our vow."

Ripred surveyed the party with a mix of pity and amusement. His gaze landed on Boots and Hazard, who seemed engrossed in a game with Nike, Thalia, and Temp. Then, when he had ensured that they were out of earshot, he looked back at Luxa. "Your Highness . . . I'm afraid that, in a few days, there won't be any nibblers left to free."

This statement silenced them all. Just like that, every last bit of fleeting carefreeness drained, and the air became heavy. Howard nearly dropped his medical kit, Henry almost tumbled back into Thanatos, and Gregor and Luxa froze to solid ice where they sat. Ripred's expression intensified, and he voiced a long sigh. "So, what did you all assume the Bane's doing out here, anyway?"

"We heard him speak," mumbled Howard. "He said he was driving the nibblers to a place from which there is no return."

"And did he mention where that would be?"

"Somewhere outside of the Underland?" asked Gregor hesitantly.

"Into the uncharted lands?" added Luxa.

"The nibblers could return from the uncharted lands," said Henry. "I returned from the uncharted lands."

"You did what?" exclaimed Luxa, and Henry gave her a bittersweet smile. "Perhaps I should share this tale with you all soon. But . . ." He looked back at Ripred, who gave him an infinitely curious look too. "As I was saying, the uncharted lands may be returned from."

"Indeed," concurred Ripred. "One would only have to retrace their steps." He paused. "My dears, there's only one place from which there's no return."

Ripred waited while it sank in.

". . . Death," whispered Luxa.

"So . . . it would seem."

Gregor's mouth opened and closed again. He drew a blank. Somewhere at the back of his head, he thought the words hadn't sunken in with him yet, even now. The Bane wanted to . . . to . . .

"Are you saying he means to kill them? All of them?" Howard repeated back the very thing that Gregor hadn't been able to even think.

"That's the general idea, yes."

"That's impossible!" exclaimed Henry. "They are an entire species! How could he ever . . . I mean, they may allow themselves to be driven somewhere, but they will not lose their lives without a fight . . . will they?"

"They may not know that it would be prudent to fight," said Thanatos in a stale voice. "Remember Cevian? Remember what she told us?"

"He would trick them," whispered Luxa. "He would lure them away. To, to . . ."

"Even if they knew," interjected Aurora. "The nibblers' numbers are very low. They only count two colonies."

"And the ones from the Fount already lay dead," declared Henry. "All that remains is the jungle colony . . . And they stand no chance against the gnawers. Not on their own."

Gregor stood there, frozen solid. His gaze flicked over to the kids, and he felt an icy shiver trickle down his back.

"Boy, are you with us?" asked Ripred.

Gregor nodded quickly. "We have to do something," he mumbled, for lack of better things to say. What else was he supposed to say? "Sorry that I didn't kill him when I had the chance, back before he had grown up into someone who made it his goal to extinguish a whole species."?

"We shall do something." Henry sounded grimmer than he had in a while. "We shall locate them and warn those who can still hear."

In brief words, Henry reiterated what Cevian had told them about the happenings in the jungle before her assassination to Ripred, and the rat nodded. "This matches up with what I heard during my time following the Bane. Assassinating escapees to prevent rumors from spreading also seems plausible. They strive to appear as though they mean to only relocate the nibblers. And since the other option would be to fight, the nibblers offer little to no resistance. No nibbler leader would fight under anything but life-and-death conditions."

"This is life and death," mumbled Ares. "But they are not aware . . ."

"They certainly believe the rats harmless." Ripred scoffed. "But I have no doubt: The Bane means to kill every last nibbler."

"So say I!" a raspy voice suddenly choked out. "So say I!"

All heads turned to where Cartesian was still lying. He had now rolled onto his stomach, struggling to raise himself up on all fours. "Take ease!" Howard rushed to his patient, kneeled down, and reached for his medical kit. "I will give you something to help you heal."

He picked out the painkiller bottle, but Cartesian shoved his hand away. "We must fight!" called the mouse. "This is not like the other times. The gnawers do not want the land by the Fount. The humans would not allow them to have it either way!"

"Cease, Howard!" called Luxa, sprinting toward them herself. "Let him speak."

"He believes he is still at the Fount . . . I believe," said Nike, who had joined them after leaving the children with Temp.

She spread her wings to draw closer, but Thanatos held her back. "Not all at once," he heeded. "Give him space."

"Cartesian! Cartesian!" urged Luxa. "You are safe. I am Queen Luxa of Regalia."

"Oh, the good queen. The good queen!" When he recognized her, Cartesian calmed down a little. "Tell them to fight now! Fight here by the Fount!"

"I will tell them," assured Luxa, running her hand down his back.

"I told them so, but few will take my side," said Cartesian, his tail shuddering. "Most believe the gnawers when they say they will only take us to other lands. Do not believe it!"

"No, I do not believe it. I believe you!" soothed Luxa.

"And then the other came," continued Cartesian. "When he came, I thought perhaps we could convince them together. He, who came to tell us about what happened in the jungle. The same thing! The same, I tell you!"

"He?" Gregor startled when Henry dashed past him toward Cartesian and dropped beside Luxa. "Had he black fur? Was his name—"

"Black fur!" Cartesian heaved. "He said . . . he said that we cannot trust them. But none of us had concrete evidence. Nothing had happened at his colony that hadn't happened at ours. But listen!" He latched onto Henry's remaining gauntlet. "It makes no sense. Why would the gnawers want the land by the Fount? You humans will not let them keep it."

"Why would they want the jungle, either?" Ripred nodded. "No rat would live there by choice."

"So say I!" Cartesian screamed. "And so said he!" Suddenly, his fevered eyes locked on Ripred, and at the sight of the rat, he went wild. His body twined and twisted, and Henry hissed in pain when his talons pierced his gauntlet and the skin beneath. "Where are the others? Where are the others?" Cartesian bared his teeth at Ripred and tried to attack, yet his broken leg crumpled beneath him. "Where are the others?"

"Now might be a good time for that medicine." Ripred retreated to a safe distance, nudging Howard.

Each of Cartesian's cries permeated Gregor's ears like needles, and he squinted involuntarily. Only when he sensed a slight tug on his sleeve, accompanied by, "Why so loud?" from Boots, did he wake from his daze. "Gre-go, it is too loud," repeated Boots, and Gregor nodded.

"Is . . . everything alright?" asked Hazard, appearing behind her.

"Everything is alright." He soothed her curls mechanically. Everything . . . was not alright. But he couldn't say that to them.

"You must not worry," said Howard, glancing back at Cartesian, who once again lay sedated.

"Everything is fine," assured Luxa, yet in her voice, Gregor heard his own unadulterated horror. He surveyed Boots, Hazard, and Thalia, who was enthusiastically chatting to Nike, not noticing the terror in her eyes, and wondered for how long they would all continue to lie to the children for their own good. Forever, was Gregor's first impulse to think. Then he looked at Hazard and realized that five years ago, he himself had been nine, and he would have wanted to know the truth.

"Are you feeling better?" asked Luxa, leading Hazard away from Cartesian by the hand. "We must prepare for departure."

"Can we ride with Temp again?" asked Boots. When he didn't respond immediately, she tugged at his shirt. "Gre-go sad?"

Before his inner eye, Gregor saw the baby mice they had fished out of the river, then the mangled bodies in that pit. He heard the echo of the Bane's speech. The thought of what appeared to be happening chilled and disgusted him to his very core. The Bane . . . was killing them, and Gregor was here, doing nothing about it. Just as he had done nothing, one and a half years ago when he . . .

Looking down into Boots' innocent, round face, he forced a smile. "No, I'm not sad," he lied. And no matter whether it was right or not, he knew that he would keep on lying about this for much longer.