Boots got her wish in the end after Thalia assured them she could keep up on her own if they weren't going too fast.

"Halt, why are we even bringing the gnawer along?" asked Luxa, as if she had only just now processed that taking Ripred had been decided without her. "It does not strike me as prudent to bring him when his species is to blame for this."

"Because Ripred does not condone what his species is doing," retorted Henry. "And we may also miss his strength when we reach our destination. Besides, I am not letting him out of my sight until I have proven myself to him."

Luxa scowled, and Gregor found a new kind of ice in her stare. "Who even authorized you to make the decisions for us?"

"You did," retorted Henry. "The day you asked me to lead you."

"But I—"

"Cousin, leave it be," Howard chimed in. "Just this once . . . he is right. We might need Ripred's help."

Luxa gritted her teeth. "Fine. Let us see how he keeps up, then."

"Oh, Ripred is not running," interjected Henry. "Perhaps . . ." He glanced back and forth between Ares and Thanatos.

"I may take him," said Ares, without meeting Henry's gaze.

"Ares, you do not need to carry the gnawer!" exclaimed Luxa, her voice cracking. "A little exercise will do him—"

"Luxa, take ease!" Before Gregor could interject, Henry had her by the shoulders. "Cease being insufferable to others. It will not help the nibblers, and it will not lessen your feelings of guilt to make others suffer," he exclaimed, and Luxa stilled to stone.

Everyone gawked at the two then. They stared with their mouths agape at Henry, unyielding as ever, and Luxa, whose face had taken on an ashen hue. Gregor thought they had never seen anyone talk in such a manner to the queen. And yet . . . Gregor stared at Henry himself and . . . smiled.

It didn't surprise him that Henry was unafraid to rebuke Luxa. What surprised him was that he, who had bullied others together with her during their first quest, told her not to be mean in order to vent her own feelings. Only when Gregor looked at Henry and saw the Death Rider did it cease surprising him.

"It does not lessen the guilt," said Henry quieter. "It makes it worse, even. And I will not tolerate such unkind behavior on my watch."

Luxa stared at him for a heartbeat longer. And then she surprised everyone . . . because she conceded. "We may be grateful for Ripred's aid soon, I suppose," she said, casting her eyes down. "And his aid will be most valuable if he is at his full strength."

"You heard Her Highness," said Henry to Ripred. "On Ares, you go."

"You have gotten quite comfortable giving orders, haven't you?" observed Ripred.

"What would you order, then?" Henry shot back, clearly approaching the limit of his patience.

"No, no!" Ripred shook his head. "That wasn't a criticism. I've no interest in giving orders. I have given enough orders for a lifetime," he said in an oddly resigned voice.

"You have not," replied Henry with a shrug. "Yet for the moment, I shall carry the burden of charge for you."

"I was merely finding it astounding." Ripred threw Luxa a glance. "Her Highness actually lets another take charge."

"I make my own decisions," hissed Luxa. "But . . ." She glanced at Henry before she averted her eyes again. "I have also found that it is . . . sometimes more pleasant not to carry the burden of charge."

Gregor's thoughts flew back to the way that being around the Death Rider—around Henry—made him feel younger sometimes, less burdened with all the responsibilities that he sometimes thought threatened to crush him when he had to play the role of an adult, and he wondered if Luxa ever felt that way too.

"You needn't be burdened with charge when there is I, burdening myself with it willingly," said Henry with a grin, then pivoted away, counting the fliers. "Alright. Now that we all get along yet again, let us attend to the matter at hand. That is, Ares cannot take more than Ripred, and Nike cannot take more than Howard and Cartesian. Aurora, are you holding up?"

"Temp, Boots, and I can fly with you and Thanatos," Gregor said without much thought. "That way, Aurora can take the supplies if she has only Luxa and Hazard. If that's okay!" he added quickly.

Henry shot him a grateful look. "That would ease things," he said. And so, it was done.

They took flight shortly and continued in this manner for maybe four hours. Gregor would have used the time to talk to Henry, but there was Boots, who was elated to fly with Temp again. They didn't cease chatting for a minute, and Gregor became increasingly worried that Henry would grow annoyed, but on the contrary, he even joined their games after a while, so Gregor had to do nothing to amuse Boots. And with each passing minute, Gregor's gratefulness that he was there with them increased.

This time, the tunnels didn't lead to a large cave, like the one where they had seen the Bane speaking. The obsidian soon transitioned into regular rock, and the shape of the surrounding walls became less even with the yard.

The tunnel was high but narrow, only slightly wider than Thanatos' and Ares' wingspans. Initially, they moved through it without any issues, but it soon became clear that they wouldn't be able to continue like this for much longer. When Ares almost hit the wall with his wing and Thanatos nearly crashed into a large stalactite, Henry called for the party to land.

Hazard and Boots asked for food, and so Henry dished out snacks and Howard attended to their injuries, as was their usual ritual. When Henry rallied them together to ask for ideas on how to proceed, Aurora and Nike volunteered to scout out possible alternate routes.

"The stingers warned not to stray from the path," mumbled Hazard, staring after the two bats with concern. "They say there are currents."

"The fliers can look after themselves," soothed Howard, though his brow creased as well.

"We hardly have a choice." Henry kneeled by Hazard's side and handed him a sandwich. "Our fliers cannot traverse this tunnel without hassle. I'm certain that this is not an issue for the stingers, so they did not account for our limitations."

Hazard nodded and ate in silence, though he remained uneasy. Even when Aurora and Nike returned half an hour later with news of a path that appeared to lead in the same direction, located about half a mile back. "It may be a detour, but it is broad and easy to traverse," explained Nike. "There is even a clean river running alongside. And it glows!" She nudged Thanatos, who had just settled down close by Thalia.

One of his eyes opened. "We press on then?"

Luxa leaped to her feet, evidently having waited for an incentive to move again. "Onward."

Gregor eyed her with concern as they reloaded the bats. "I'm worried about Luxa," he said to Henry after they had already taken off.

"I worry about her too," replied Henry, eyeing Boots, who had dozed off the moment they had taken flight. "She is racked by guilt and anxiety, and I know not what to do besides move us faster." He made a face, and Gregor suddenly wondered if he felt some of those things too, but didn't mention it.

"Nobody should blame themselves except the Bane and his rats," said Gregor, thinking at the same time about whether he should blame himself for not killing the Bane one and a half years ago.

"Attaboy." Henry gave him a quick smile. "If only it were so easy, no?"

"Y-Yeah." Gregor sighed. He didn't say anything else to Henry, even though part of him wanted to . . . to assure him that he was doing so much already. That Gregor was grateful for his being here. But for some reason, the words lodged in his throat.

The fact that he knew and saw that it was Henry now added a layer of awkwardness to Gregor's interactions with the Death Rider that he wished wasn't there but couldn't quite shake yet.

Yet the longer they flew in comfortable silence, the more Gregor wondered if it was really so difficult to let go of this apprehension as he made it out to be . . . or if it was all in his head. Nothing had changed, he repeated to himself over and over. The Death Rider was the Death Rider . . . and he was part of the questers. Gregor suddenly recalled his own words: None of that matters because you're our friend. Knowing your name or . . . what you did to become an outcast doesn't change that.

"Knowing . . . what I know doesn't change anything," he said out of the blue.

Henry whipped around to him. "Say what?"

"You know." Gregor scooted back and forth, eyeing Temp, who perched behind him, from the corner of his eye. "I just . . ."

"It changes a lot, and we both know this," said Henry dryly, pivoting back around. "But let us not let that get in the way of our mission. Is that what you meant?"

"Y-Yeah," mumbled Gregor, even though he wanted to insist that it wasn't just that. But . . . it wasn't the right place or time, was it?

Gregor knew that he was actually lying to himself, but he said nothing anymore. They flew for another four hours without complications, their path illuminated by the river that ran parallel to their tunnel and occasionally crossed over. When Howard began insisting that it was prudent to take a longer break, Henry and Thanatos landed them in a large cave, a little offside. A river branch had weaved its way in, so it wasn't pitch dark and relatively secluded, almost secure.

"We must all rest," announced Howard as he rounded the questers up for his routine check-up. "I know you wish to go on, but we mustn't hurry ourselves to death," he said to Luxa. "We have been in the air for almost eight uninterrupted hours, and many of us are not strong enough for more yet. Cartesian's fever has gone up, and Ares, you are not fooling anyone by remaining silent."

Gregor eyed his bond with concern, and even if he said nothing, he immediately saw that carrying Ripred for so long had exhausted him.

Luxa surveyed the party too, visibly struggling with herself. Then she nodded. "We camp then."

"Let us gather food and dine properly," said Henry, hauling the supply hamper off of Aurora's back and allowing her to join Nike, Thalia, and Ares where they had found a hanging spot. "I wish to be honest with you all." He planted himself in the middle of the cave, the hamper at his feet. "We are not doing so well. I have no fuel, and the food you brought will not last longer than one, maybe two days if we distribute it prudently."

"Let us go fish then," suggested Thanatos. "We may go and bring anything edible that we find."

Henry nodded, and they watched Aurora and Ares exchange a glance, then depart toward the river. Thalia remained hanging next to Nike, her eyes closed.

Gregor surveyed the dim lighting conditions, then had an idea. "Hold on, let me try something." He searched through his backpack and retrieved his strongest flashlight. He flicked it on and positioned it in the center of the cave, directing its beam upward to bathe the entire cavern in a soft, comforting glow.

"Light!" exclaimed Boots, immediately beginning to run around it in circles, laughing. "I'm firefly!" she squealed. "Itsy-Bitsy firefly."

"Don't topple it," mumbled Gregor, but didn't have it in himself to stop her.

"Excellent idea," said Henry, indicating the flashlight. He surveyed the battered, exhausted little group, then smiled, waving invitingly. "Boots has the right idea. Gather round. Come on, I shall not leave anyone to wallow in their low spirits."

"What if I enjoy wallowing in my low spirits?" asked Ripred out of the dark corner into which he had retreated.

"Not on my watch." Henry crossed his arms. "If you remain in your solitudes, your anxieties will not allow you to rest properly. You are not alone in your fears or your struggles." He sat, cross-legged, in front of the flashlight, patting Boots' head as she came to a halt in front of him. "You are the most endearing firefly that I have ever come across," he said. "And you others, battle your fears not on your own. This is something that took me an astonishingly long time to learn."

At that moment, Aurora and Ares fluttered back into the cave, dropping a load of fish and shells in front of Henry. "The fish are sparse, but they shall suffice," said Aurora, settling beside where Luxa had retreated to the back wall.

"Gather round!" called Henry once more, waving a fish. "Lest you get no food."

This announcement finally stirred life back into the questers. Gregor watched Luxa rise and gingerly approach, with noticeable purple bags under her eyes. "I would like to say, about earlier . . ." She threw Ripred a furtive glance. "I know not what has gotten into me."

Gregor's eyes widened. Never in a million years had he expected Luxa to ever be apologetic toward Ripred. But all that Henry gave her was a smile. "I know what has gotten into you," he said. "Your old spirit, that generalized and judged to cover and make up for your feelings of ineptitude and despair. I know very well what you feel. It is quite alright." He beckoned her. "Now cease being so stubborn and let us in. Let us comfort you. It is not shameful or weak to let us comfort you. Come here."

Luxa visibly struggled with herself. She took one more step. "I am not a child," she mumbled. "I can manage on my own."

"No one should have to manage everything alone, whether they are a child or not," said Henry. "You deserve support. All of you do. I shall not leave anyone alone in their despair. Be not so disheartened yet." He beckoned her again. "Let us not be disheartened by this yet. We have not lost yet."

"Lad, will you stop being so wise and level-headed?" grumbled Ripred. "You are making it very difficult to humiliate you."

"Excellent." Henry laughed. "I shall defeat you with wisdom and levelness, then."

Slowly but surely, Gregor watched them all gather around his flashlight. Luxa gingerly sat beside Henry, straightening her corset. Howard wiped sweat and blood from his hands and concealed a rip in the sleeve of his shirt by rolling it up. The bats clustered at the back wall around Thanatos, seemingly on Thalia's demands, who had dropped down again and skittered in front of him.

Gregor watched them all as he got to his feet and helped Henry dish out the food, and he couldn't help but wonder about the kind of headspace they would be in if the Death . . . if Henry weren't here.

Then and there, he made himself aware that Ripred was right—Henry was the one speaking wisely and level-headedly. Henry, thought Gregor. Henry, whose determined smile didn't once falter. Henry, who teased Luxa by dangling a fish in front of her face so that its cold, slimy exterior smacked into her forehead when she turned. Henry, who threw shells at Ripred so that the rat could slice them open with his tail and make the whole thing into something that actually seemed fun. Henry, who joined in Boots' little song and dance that she broke with momentarily, even though he had never heard "Itsy-Bitsy Spider" before. They both laughed hysterically at how terrible the lyrics he made up on the spot, not knowing the real ones, were. Although Boots took the matter of teaching him that song and seemingly every other one she knew very seriously. After watching them for a while, Hazard joined in, and once Henry had memorized the lyrics properly, their singing didn't even sound so bad.

Sitting and watching, Gregor's gaze found Luxa and Howard to his left . . . smiling. Only then did he register that he was doing the same.

Then and there he vowed to himself that on the next opportunity he'd get, he'd thank Henry from the bottom of his heart for this moment. Because if he weren't here . . . Gregor shook his head, not leaving him out of his sight. If Henry weren't here—the same Henry who had acted like a spoiled bully on their first quest—Gregor was certain beyond doubt that none of them would be smiling.

Terrible things were happening, and he had no idea how it would be once he returned to Regalia . . . There would be war, thought Gregor. Whatever that would entail. But they hadn't lost yet. And so, he didn't want to think about that. He wanted to sit here, in this terribly damp cave, on this terribly hard floor, with this terrible raw fish, and smile. For as long as he still could.

Henry had just opened his mouth to presumably begin another verse of a song Gregor had never heard before—he presumed it was an Underland children's song—when Thanatos appeared by his side. "Spare me," he mumbled, sighing deeply.

"What are we to spare you of?" asked Henry, giving him a shove. "Socializing? You shan't be spared that on my watch. Oh, Nike! Let him not escape you!"

"You are a threat to those who prefer lonesomeness everywhere," mumbled Thanatos before Nike slid over to his other side, playfully nudging him.

"You did not finish your explanation yet!" she urged. "How does it work? How have you acquired it?"

"What mean you?" asked Luxa.

"The contraption he wears around his neck!" Thalia chimed in. "I wanted to know what it was, and then he ran away!" She took one leap and landed on Thanatos' back, pulling at the broad leather thing around his neck. "Come on! Come on!"

Henry broke into roaring laughter. "Come on, indeed!" he exclaimed. "Wouldn't all of you like to know?"

Everyone nodded; even Howard eyed the collar-like contraption curiously.

"Do not keep us in the dark for much longer," mumbled Hazard. "You have been waiting for us to ask, no?"

"I have," said Henry. "Now, Death, share with them all how enamored you are with this thing at last."

"I will never let you strap it on again if you keep speaking in this manner," grumbled Thanatos. "Also, would you take it off me now?"

Henry complied, yet at the same time, he opened his mouth to presumably continue his teasing.

"And will you not tell us at last how you have been faring since we parted?" asked Luxa before he could speak. "You have not shared anything yet. Haven't you made a promise in Longclaw's prison?"

"Longclaw's what now?" asked Ripred.

"My promise was to share when we no longer are in any shit," said Henry with a grin. "But I suppose despite all this shit, we have time. And I just so happen to love seeing you all smile, united like this. Say you, if I talk, will you smile for me more?"

Luxa halted before her smile widened. "We may just."

So then Henry reclined, taking them all in, and began to talk.

***

Strangely enough, Gregor had never really given much thought to why Underlanders didn't use saddles. Luxa's offended expression at Henry's explanation startled him, but then he thought it made well enough sense to not put a saddle on someone who was as sentient as any human.

Yet before she could properly freak out, Henry clarified that this one was more like a gadget designed to help them in battle. It enabled him to rotate 360 degrees, and therefore made them far more agile and unpredictable.

"Getting the hang of it was a true pain, let me tell you," Henry said with a sigh. "It took us almost two months before we could really put it to use. We had to relearn fighting as a unit from the ground up—but it paid off."

Gregor looked over at Thanatos and the contraption, remembering how Henry had used it to rotate. He couldn't deny that it sounded like it could be helpful, but he also knew that he would never be persuaded to use something similar. Although he had mostly overcome his fear of heights while flying, he really didn't need to make the whole thing even more like riding a rollercoaster.

Once Henry had finished demonstrating the saddle, he laid Boots to rest, as she had been yawning non-stop. Apparently, she had tired herself out singing earlier. Gregor feared he would send the rest of them to sleep too and let the gloomy thoughts take over, but as if he could sense their apprehension to be left to themselves, he continued.

As Henry spoke, an hour might have gone by, or maybe two. Gregor didn't think about counting minutes. He wanted to sit, listen, and forget his worries for a while.

The first thing that Henry announced was that he and Thanatos had actually crossed the waterway, some half a year ago. Gregor clapped as vigorously as the rest of them, despite feeling for Thanatos, who clearly didn't enjoy as much attention as he received upon this announcement.

Especially the bats all gawked at Thanatos, more so than before. Both Thalia's and Nike's eyes were large and full of admiration, and Aurora nodded respectfully.

"I knew it was possible," mumbled Ares. "Thank you for taking the burden to prove it from me," he said to Thanatos, and Gregor thought about how he and Henry used to have plans to try it themselves.

"Are you relieved?" Gregor asked his bond in a hushed voice.

"Honestly? I am glad that he found someone with whom he could achieve this without forcing me to take the risk," whispered Ares. "I mean, for what? Nothing would be gained if I did it. It would be a grand achievement, but also an empty one. Such a . . . pointless risk of our lives."

"Yeah," mumbled Gregor, thinking that this was definitely not something that Henry would see the same way.

"And so, I have promised to him that he will be known as the Crosser of the Waterway," exclaimed Henry, elbowing Thanatos. "Call him by this title, henceforth."

"Be still," mumbled Thanatos, clearly mortified.

"He is the Crosser of the Waterway!" called Nike immediately. "The Crosser of the Waterway!"

"The Crosser of the Waterway!" Thalia chanted. "One day, can I be as strong and fast as you? Can I also be a crosser of the waterway?"

"We may cross it together one day," said Thanatos, mellowly.

And as if this news hadn't been bomb enough, Henry proceeded to announce that after they had crossed the waterway, they had taken a "vacation" in the uncharted lands.

"Luxa said that's where you send your defeated enemies," mumbled Gregor.

"For us regular folk here, that's what it is," snickered Ripred. "But the lad has long transcended normalcy."

"You actually went beyond the maps?" asked Hazard with round eyes. "Only you and Thanatos?"

"Only the two of us," confirmed Henry.

"And you found your way back," mumbled Luxa, aghast. "You ventured where no one has trodden before, and you returned."

"Yes! Yes! He did!" exclaimed Thalia, nudging Thanatos. "He told us about that on the fly. Did you not see snappers, enormous twisters, and even live diggers?"

"You saw diggers?!" exclaimed Luxa.

"So they are not extinct . . ." mumbled Howard.

Henry shook his head. "They are quite the friendly, peaceful folk," he replied.

"The diggers are ancient and hard to extinguish, they are," mumbled Temp. "But misfortune follows them as does power, misfortune follows them."

"Honestly, they seemed entirely content where they are, from what we've gauged," said Henry.

Although Gregor had no idea who those diggers were, Henry's statement made him think of Hamnet's words yet again. That most creatures didn't want to fight—were friendly—if not provoked or attacked.

"Honestly, the tales about the places beyond our maps are exaggerated." Henry shrugged. "It is difficult to find an easy passageway there, but once you have ventured a certain distance, it is not so terrible . . . if nothing is currently surprising you unpleasantly. But that is what keeps life exciting, I say."

"Of course you say that," mumbled Ares, and Gregor threw him, as he hoped, a sympathetic smile.

Henry proceeded to share a few stories, captivating even Gregor's attention. It was . . . peaceful, thought Gregor. A rare moment of peace and companionship . . . If he overlooked the fact that Henry's stories had all happened in real life. To his own astonishment, Gregor realized that he cared about Henry enough to not like the idea of him being in danger, even if he enjoyed the thrill.

It wasn't long before Luxa asked if she could hold his new sword—that Henry claimed he had forged out of an actual meteorite—and they all watched her swing the pitch-black blade that was nearly as tall as her with ease.

"If we're on the topic of stories, won't you finally share what landed the lot of you in Longclaw's prison together?" Ripred chimed in after a while. "Or did I misunderstand that earlier?"

"You did not," said Henry, exchanging glances with Thanatos.

"Yes." Luxa lowered the blade—Gregor couldn't recall its name for the life of him. Something that reminded him of charcoal. "Tell him of Stellovet and Longclaw and his piteous demise. I am certain it would interest him." Not a trace of hostility or suspicion remained in her eyes, and even her face looked less sunken.

Ripred's eyes widened. "Did she just say Longclaw's . . . demise? Oh my, it seems I've neglected to inform myself of the happenings among my own race."

And so Henry went over to explain what had happened with Stellovet and how they had embarked on a quest to save her and deal with Longclaw. It took Gregor a while to realize, but when he understood that Henry was leaving out Dalia's part almost entirely, he tensed for the first time. He fought with himself about whether he should interrupt—it didn't seem right to tell the story without that part—but then he thought maybe it was still too difficult for Henry to talk about her.

Henry described in great detail how he and Thanatos had challenged Longclaw to a duel in his own arena so that he would adhere to the rules there.

"Let me guess, he didn't anyway?" snickered Ripred.

"Tonguetwist cheated," replied Henry. "And so we killed her too. Although hers was the far more humiliating death."

"Tonguetwist was Twirltongue's mom, right?" asked Gregor.

"Indeed," said Henry. "And now listen to this." When he explained in what way he had tricked her, Gregor made a face, trying his hardest not to find death funny . . . Even if it was someone evil. Even if the circumstances really were.

Ripred, on the other hand, broke into hysterical laughter. "Oh, oh lad! I would've given a week's ration of shrimp in cream sauce to see that!"

"You would have had a grand time," said Henry. "All that was left then was to deal death to Longclaw, so that he may find in death the peace he lacked in life." Then he spun on his heel to the rest of the questers, spreading his arms. "And that, children, is how you prevent the rise of an evil tyrant. Now we must do the same with the latest one that you gnawers have gotten yourselves, I suppose."

"One would think we'd learn," said Ripred, still grinning.

Gregor made a face. He had been running away from the thought that he could have prevented this tyrant's rise if he'd had the guts to kill him as a baby. But . . . then the Prophecy of Bane wouldn't have been properly fulfilled, right? Gregor scooted back and forth, not really knowing what to believe anymore.

"It would seem as though we have ourselves an expert." Ripred chuckled. "And it would also seem as though you have gone up in the world quite a bit, lad. Not only in the echolocation department."

"He is the monster slayer," whispered Thalia.

"The protector," added Hazard. "He is invincible."

"Not yet," said Aurora. "He has not yet battled Ripred."

"Not yet." Ripred dragged his talon across the stone floor. "And when he then does, he won't be so invincible anymore. Lad, haven't you done a phenomenal job of leaving all the children awestruck with yourself?"

"You mean the one thing you could never manage?" retorted Henry. "No matter how powerful you are?"

Ripred grumbled. "I need no charisma if I have them fearing me."

"No one here must fear you as long as I protect them," said Henry. "And I shall always protect them."

"Why can't you all use echolocation too?" asked Hazard suddenly, tugging at Luxa's sleeve. "If it is so useful . . ."

"Learning echolocation isn't a typical human practice," Howard mumbled, but Gregor could tell from his face that he was reconsidering the validity of this practice.

"Nobody has really . . . considered it an option before," said Ares. "As far as I know, there haven't been any efforts among humans to achieve the skill, and none are willing to teach it either."

"Yeah, it's not that easy!" Gregor blurted out.

"In that case," Ripred ignored him, "it seems as though the lad here has made greater strides in progress during his two years of exile than you humans have, collaterally, in decades. Maybe you should all take a moment to think about what is so clearly going wrong here."

Luxa and Howard averted their gazes, but Hazard scooted closer. "I want to learn it too!"

"Just don't let Ripred teach you," replied Henry.

After the obligatory collateral laughing fit had calmed, Ripred lazily dropped onto his back, extending all four limbs outward. "You laugh, but who else will teach him, in that case?"

No one replied. Gregor watched Henry in the light of his flashlight, itching to ask about how exactly the stupid echolocation was supposed to work.

"Perhaps we should let the fliers sleep now," announced Henry before Gregor could ask. "You others do not have to sleep if you are too restless. But the fliers need a few more hours."

There was, once again, no reply. But they all knew he was right, and so no one intervened when the bats retreated to sleep or when Henry began packing away the remnants of their meal. Gregor watched him balance a stack of plates in one hand while fishing for his backpack with the other.

Before he would inevitably confront the question of whether he should try to sleep, Gregor got up to help, but then the outcast faltered. He cursed under his breath and barely caught the plates before they would have fallen, but he released and spilled the contents of his backpack. Henry cursed again, begrudgingly setting the plates down. Gregor kneeled to help him pick his stuff back up, and the outcast shot him a grateful look.

Gregor scooped up a stack of fabrics and a water bag, and Luxa beside him picked up a large leather box that looked like it would withstand much, along with a few bones and a rat tooth.

He was about to ask Henry where he had gotten that from when he heard a crash and a cry. Gregor turned to see that Luxa had dropped the outcast's belongings, fixating her gaze on the last item. His brows furrowed as he watched her pick it up. Since when did the Death Rider carry a second dagger? A large red gem adorned the hilt, and beneath the intricate sheath, Gregor spotted a golden, shimmering blade. This wasn't a weapon he had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like it would belong to an outcast at all.

As soon as he spotted what she was holding, Henry flinched, but Luxa stepped away before he could snatch it. "This . . ." Her hand, holding the dagger, trembled.

When Gregor looked back at Henry, all his cheer had vanished. Instead, his usually composed face showed traces of panic. "This ancient thing?" He aimed for a casual tone, but Gregor detected the tremor in his voice. "That I found in Longclaw's camp, together with the crown. It was too beautiful to abandon, but I have Mys, so . . . I keep it, but it is of little use to me."

Luxa remained still, her expression unreadable, as she slowly unsheathed the golden blade.

"Hold on." Howard suddenly appeared on her other side to look at the dagger more closely. "Is that . . . ?" He leaned in, and his eyes widened. "That is Henry's dagger!"

The name made Luxa flinch. When Gregor glanced over at Henry, his shoulders hung limp, and he once again wore that helpless expression that had become so uncharacteristic of him. There was one moment of unbroken silence before Henry sighed, inevitably asking, "Who . . . is Henry?"

Luxa's head flew up, and Ripred immediately began coughing; Gregor suspected that he was trying to stifle a fit of laughter. Hazard furrowed his brows, and Howard averted his eyes. Luxa seemed like she wanted to respond but couldn't. Gregor noticed a slight darkening in Henry's eye as he took in her distress.

"Oh, did nobody ever tell you?" snarled Ripred once he had calmed enough. "Okay, so, you see how Howard's Luxa's cousin?" he asked, coming up beside Henry. "Well, there was another cousin once. A long time ago. Maybe something like two years. I can't quite recall." Gregor had to suppress an eye roll. "Well, that was Henry. Long story short, he tagged along on these children's very first quest, but oh no, plot twist—he'd been conspiring with the rats all along! And of course, when he fell, Gorger dragged him over the edge with himself, being the little asshole that he was. That's probably where Longclaw found his dagger, right with Gorger's crown."

Ripred's little speech was followed by dire silence, and Gregor shot him a glare. The rat seemed to enjoy all of this a little too much.

"That was a little . . . very short," Henry finally said with a loaded voice, eyeing the dagger that Luxa was still holding. "So, it belonged to your . . . cousin?"

Seeing him stand there with his arms awkwardly crossed, Gregor's sympathy for Henry increased. Ripred was as unnecessarily cruel as ever, and Luxa's reluctance probably didn't help either.

"It did," she finally said. For one moment, she hesitated, then she held the hand with the dagger out to Henry. "Here. I apologize for touching it."

Henry flinched, staring at her with a widened eye. Another moment of silence went by before he shoved Luxa's hand with the blade away. "If it belonged to your . . . cousin, would you not like to keep it?" He almost pleaded. "As I said, I have no use for it. It is yours."

She opened her mouth but then closed it again, averting her eyes before holding it out to him again. "Me neither."

"Hey, Luxa . . . why not?" Gregor couldn't stay quiet a moment longer, not with how genuinely desperate Henry—the otherwise unshakable veteran—looked now. "It's like the crown he brought back, isn't it? It belongs to your family."

Luxa stared at him silently for a moment before she shook her head. "You are mistaken, Gregor. It is not like the crown. It belongs to no one anymore." She pivoted back to Henry. "You may keep it or toss it into the waterway; I care not."

Under Henry's unreadable gaze, she turned away, but not quickly enough for Gregor to miss that she cared after all.

***

With his arm around sleeping Boots, Gregor watched Luxa's back-and-forth pacing in the dim river light. The rest of the party was fast asleep . . . or so he thought. At least they rested while she had taken the first watch.

Gregor thought he should attempt to sleep as well, but he couldn't calm his thoughts. Now and then, his gaze would dart over to Henry, who lay with Thanatos on the other side of the cave. All the confidence and pride from earlier had faded the moment Luxa had discovered and rejected his dagger. He had not even cared to decide on a watch order; he had just gone to sleep, saying they should decide between themselves.

As Gregor continued to stare at him, he became increasingly aware that he might know his identity, but very little beyond that. Not what had happened to him since the fall or what had compelled him to return and help the questers. All that he knew was what Henry had told them about his eye and Thanatos in the jungle . . . and, well, there was the echolocation now.

Try as he might, Gregor couldn't shake off his disbelief about that. Shame crept in him as he recalled giving up on ever learning it. Maybe I should ask him for help, Gregor thought suddenly. Maybe . . . Ripred was really doing something wrong. Or maybe they both were. In any case, it . . . couldn't hurt to ask the only human he knew to have ever mastered it for advice, if not for anything else.

As he lay there, unable to look away from Henry, another thought occurred to Gregor: How did the Prophecy of Gray fit into all of this? If Henry hadn't been "the last who will die", their interpretation of it must have been wrong. Maybe, once he got back, he could ask Nerissa. Gregor made himself aware that she had been the one who had given him the scroll for Henry before their trip to kill the Bane, and he suddenly wondered if she had done so, knowing that it had been for her brother.

Gregor tore his gaze away from Henry with force, only to land on Luxa instead. An image of her rejecting the dagger flashed through his mind, and he could almost feel her palpable animosity toward the memories it held. But . . . hadn't she herself insisted that she liked remembering Henry for the good things back at that orange lake?

Gregor hesitated only for a moment, then pulled the embroidered blanket to cover Boots and stood up.

"Care for some company?"

Luxa jumped when he tapped her shoulder. "Shouldn't you sleep, Gregor?" she asked, but sat by his side when he beckoned her to the riverbank.

"Can't. There's too much on my mind." Gregor threw her a glance and suddenly felt an unbearable urge to just tell her everything. She deserves to know, he thought. She needs to . . .

"Gregor, what is the matter?"

He couldn't tell her. Gregor swallowed hard. Maybe it was better this way. If she found out that Henry was alive, she would have to face the pain of his betrayal again. She had just made her peace with it. Maybe, Gregor thought, he shouldn't disturb that peace. This reasoning made him feel only a little better.

"Why did you not take the dagger?" he blurted out when he could no longer stand the silence.

"I said why," replied Luxa coldly. "There was no reason."

"But you said you wanted to remember the good things."

Luxa looked at him as though he had slapped her in the face. Her mouth opened and closed, and she looked so helpless that Gregor nearly embraced her . . . but this was definitely not the time. "Look, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "But you said that. You justified not preemptively judging people like that. And . . . I get that seeing that dagger probably hurt, but . . . maybe you should keep it. Keep something."

Luxa pulled her knees to her chest. "I need nothing," she said without looking at him. "I know that is what I said, but . . . I have since realized that I mustn't allow the past to haunt me any longer. I have other things to concern myself with. I am fourteen. In two years, I will be queen. And now . . ." She looked up, and the bitter resolve in her eyes chilled Gregor to the bone. "I have friends to avenge, a vow to fulfill, and a war to fight. This is not the time to . . . be sentimental."

Her words swept over Gregor like a surge of cold water. If only she knew—his gaze shifted to Henry—that the person she had made her vow with was the same person she didn't want to get sentimental over.

Glancing back at her, he inspected her as best he could in the dim light. She had changed so much since they had first met almost exactly two years ago. She wore her hair in a small braid again, even if it only just reached her shoulders. Her crown shimmered golden in the river's glow.

But then he remembered what else she had said by that orange lake—it wasn't just her who had changed. Gregor stared down at his own hands, tracing a faint scar that tore his palm. This fall, I'll be going to high school, he thought. It seemed almost unreal. With all this war, this peril, down here, with his friends . . . It was hard to imagine ever going back up, living a normal life.

But his mom was almost cured now. And Gregor knew perfectly well that she would send him straight to New York as soon as they got back to Regalia.

Surprisingly, the notion of going back caused a sharp pang in Gregor's heart. For a moment, he dwelled on his dreams of bringing his mom home, leaving behind prophecies and wars, and just going to high school like a normal kid. Yet when he looked back at Luxa, he couldn't help but think that taking the longer way back might not be such a bad idea after all.