ATTENTION:

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The next hour went by Gregor in a haze. Neither did he pay much attention in the following meeting with Solovet and her subordinates in the war room, nor did he protest when she announced Lizzie and Boots would have to accompany them. The rats had gotten into the palace, after all. Considering that, where was really still safe?

Stay together. His mom's words repeated in his head as a pair of soldiers led him to the armory to get his armor. A counterstrike . . . was all he had registered from the meeting. A counterstrike . . . somewhere, while he went to battle the Bane. He could not shake the look in Solovet's eyes when she had announced that like it was some special occasion to be celebrated, not . . .

I didn't even get to make my bucket list, Gregor thought, and gritted his teeth when he spotted Miravet in the back of the armory; his black armor had been polished and draped on a mannequin. What would he even put on his bucket list?

"Chin up, boy." Miravet greeted him with a smile. Gregor attempted to smile back, yet he only managed it when Teslas appeared behind her, wearing some sort of leather apron stained with unidentifiable substances.

"Oh, Gregor, it's good to see you!" He patted his back.

"Hey Teslas, you too! Did you set up a new workshop?"

"Indeed! Right here, next to the armory." For the first time, the mouse looked genuinely happy and Gregor could not bring himself to do what he had wanted, namely, to tell him to inform his dad what the prophecy said, after his departure. It would be easier for the rest of them to learn it from him, Gregor thought, yet he found no words for it now.

He fell back into his numbness as Miravet helped him get dressed. Only when she announced she and Teslas would accompany them as well, did he listen up. "Solovet ordered us to come, in case there is some emergency with any equipment, but we might have a little something extra to give." The two exchanged a knowing wink. "His skill is truly remarkable, and even though we are not all done yet, we will deliver our contribution as soon as we possibly can."

This . . . was it, he thought as he followed the soldiers who had accompanied him here, back out. This was the last time he'd see the palace, Regalia, or any of the people he was leaving behind.

Pictures of his mom and Demeter playing checkers flashed in his mind—the fresh color in her cheeks and the old fire in her eyes. Pictures of his dad in a corner with Teslas, weighing different types of rock while scribbling something into a notebook. Pictures of Howard in his hospital, tending to Twitchtip's injuries. He had not seen her, it came to him. Not seen her, ever since the Labyrinth. And now . . . he would never see her again.

Then—Nerissa and Dalia in the code room. Nerissa curled in her favorite corner, under the Peacemaker-poem. Dalia with Stellovet and her siblings. Dalia smiling. The Peacemaker . . .

"You about ready?"

Gregor's head jolted up as he heard Ripred's voice ahead; Lizzie sat on his shoulders, and Dulcet, with Boots in her arms, stood next to him.

"As I'll ever be." He took Boots from Dulcet and she began banging her little fist on his armor.

"Oh, shiny! Gre-go shiny!"

Even Gregor could not suppress a laugh at that. "It is shiny, yeah," he mumbled as he threw Dulcet a glance. Her, he would never see again either. Gregor swallowed and threw her his most encouraging smile. "Thank you so much . . . for all you've done. Hang in there, okay?"

She smiled back. "Be safe, Overlander. And you too, Boots!" She ruffled her curls.

"Bye, Dulci!" Boots frantically waved as Gregor followed Ripred with her in his arms. "See you soon!"

Gregor couldn't help but tighten his grip on Boots. Her hair smelled of shampoo and pudding, and suddenly he had to muster up all his strength to not break into tears.

***

It took them maybe ten minutes to reach the docks from where the attack had come. To Gregor, it felt like ten years, though. He was valiantly fighting the uprising tears and when lights and voices at last drew near and he spotted the black shape of Ares who circled over his head and landed beside him, he almost sighed in relief. "You alright?"

The bat nodded. "The attack was swiftly quelled. Many were injured, but we've not many casualties."

"Good," Gregor gave him a nod. "No Bane?"

"No Bane. He has retreated toward his own land. The others will find him and

regroup their army."

"Is that where we're going then? To where he is?" Gregor glanced around for familiar faces and spotted Euripides with Vikus; the old man had seldom looked so sunken and frail. "Vikus, hey!"

He strolled over to him, yet before Vikus could reply, he was interrupted by Boots— "Greetings, Princess!"

"Greetings, Princess," echoed Nike as she landed next to Euripides and lifted her black-and-white-striped wings.

"We are Princesses," Boots said with a laugh and though Nike visibly tried, she could not laugh along.

"Are you coming too?" Gregor asked, and the bat nodded. "I am to carry you and the small ones. Ares will need all his strength for Ripred."

More and more troops—bats and humans—slowly gathered around them as Gregor watched as the rat sat Lizzie on Nike's back. His sister heavily protested at first but grew silent when she realized Ares shouldn't strain himself trying to carry Ripred and her.

"Keep her safe, yeah?" Gregor smiled at her as he handed Boots to his sister, and Lizzie eyed him with large, serious eyes before she nodded. "Keep yourself safe as well, okay?" He could not look her in the eyes as he nodded.

"Do not look like all hope is lost just yet."

Gregor had meant to mount up yet turned when he heard Ripred address Vikus who only cast his eyes down.

"He's right." Gregor stepped closer and for the first time today, his smile was genuine. "Hey, can I ride with him instead? Maybe he could use the company." He couldn't bring himself to leave Vikus alone as he was now, with Luxa's supposed death weighing on him.

Ripred shot him something like a warning glare, like to signal he was not to disclose too much, then nodded. "He could, I think."

"Then let's fly," a voice sounded beside him and Gregor winced as Solovet strolled past them. She was clad in armor again, though a different type than before. Her long cape was clasped together with the commander brooch she seemed to not have taken off since she'd been re-instated. He stared after her, all cloaked in white, with something like curiosity.

As soon as she mounted the already waiting Ajax he lifted off, closely followed by the assembly of maybe a hundred soldiers who had joined them. Gregor swallowed, trying to keep his eyes on Ares, though lost him almost instantly. Nike's shape disappeared as well, and he began asking himself if it had been a good decision to ride with Vikus after all.

It wasn't just the uncertainty about Nike and Ares. Only by telling himself over and over that he would have to disclose Solovet's betrayal as well if he told him about Luxa, he managed to keep his mouth shut. It was like with Henry's identity, only worse, he thought and bit his lip. What would Vikus think? He suddenly asked himself. If he knew that not only Luxa is alive, but Henry as well?

Some ten minutes into the flight he could for the life of him not keep his mouth shut anymore so he began talking about everything else. Gregor told Vikus about how well his family was doing, even about how Lizzie had broken the code, though Ripred had advised him to tell as few people as possible. Then about Teslas and Miravet and how well they were doing, and an hour of mundane yet lighthearted stories later, from the corner of his eye, Gregor caught that Vikus was smiling.

His thoughts had just shifted to Luxa and Henry and whatever they were doing, when he registered Euripides was preparing to land, closely behind Ajax. He had avoided thinking of Luxa so far but now he inevitably asked himself, with all the recent goodbyes—would he even get to say goodbye to her?

"We will make camp here," announced Solovet.

Gregor mumbled "Thanks for having me" to Euripides as he dismounted and looked around for Nike and Ares. His bond landed seconds later and Ripred slid off his back, but Nike with his sisters remained out of sight.

"I instructed her to stay with Miravet, Teslas, and everyone else who is not here for combat," Solovet placed a hand on his shoulder and Gregor winced before turning to her.

"And . . . what about us?"

Her mouth smiled, yet her eyes were stones. "We hold our briefing now. Vikus, maybe it is best if you stay with the civilians as well."

Everything in Gregor silently begged Vikus to not leave him alone with Solovet, but he only nodded. "You have things here handled?"

"You know I always have."

Seconds later, Euripides lifted off and carried the old man in the direction they had come from. Gregor stared after Vikus with something like desperation when Ripred suddenly nudged him. "Don't look so dire, will you? We've got a war to win. Right?"

His question was directed at Solovet and they exchanged a prolonged stare before she finally nodded. "Of course." Turning back to Gregor she placed a hand on his back, ushering him forward.

Gregor tried to console himself that it couldn't possibly be so bad with Ripred around when another familiar shape emerged behind him. "I've informed Perdita and Ruvin; we are good to go, Lord Commander."

Solovet gave Mareth a nod, who instantly smiled as he spotted Gregor. "Greetings Gregor, you have met Perdita . . . Now I wish to introduce you to Captain Ruvin as well."

"Captain? Like . . . of a ship?"

At his question, Solovet stopped. "Have you never explained the ranks of our army to him?"

Mareth shook his head, and as they had to slow their pace for him on his crutch to keep up, Solovet had time to briefly explain that "Captain" was the highest rank in the Regalian army below "Commander". Apparently, Mareth, Perdita, and a third guy named Ruvin were Captains, each with command over a third of the army.

"I didn't know you were that high ranked," Gregor mumbled at Mareth when they all stood around a massive table-shaped object upon which rested a few hampers containing items one would expect to find on a commanding officer's table.

Mareth shrugged as he leaned his crutch on the table and pulled a large map from one of the hampers, spreading it in the middle.

"Alright, hear you!" Solovet raised her voice and Gregor forced himself to focus. "First off, I would like for you to meet Gregor the Overland warrior; he will slay the Bane, so the prophecy foretells."

Gregor shifted his eyes away from the map and caught sight of Perdita, now fully armored, seated across the table beside a pretty silver bat and a burly, tall man with broad shoulders and a trimmed beard. His armor looked similar to hers and only now Gregor registered all three—Mareth, Perdita, and the strong man—wore capes like Solovet. This must be Ruvin, he thought, as the assembly broke into courteous applause.

"Alright. We must act, as quickly as we can." Solovet pulled out a small bag and scattered something that looked like colorful miniature pyramids. "Here is where they gather." She took up a bunch of blue pyramids and placed them in the Firelands, close to the human border. "Here is where we are now." Solovet placed the same amount of red pyramids close by, only on the human side of the territory. "Yet the Bane," she took up a white pyramid that was slightly larger than the others, "has hidden away in his former camp on the Plain of Tartarus with only a few guards, so our scouts have reported."

She raised her gaze at a woman entirely dressed in black, not unlike Gregor, who nodded.

"Which means," Solovet picked out a black pyramid of the same size as the one she had used for the Bane, "the warrior must venture to the plain to kill him." She placed the pyramid that Gregor realized symbolized him by the one for the Bane.

"While we others—"

"While you others," Solovet cut Perdita off, "direct the attention of his forces away from him." She took up the red pyramids she had formerly put by their camp and placed them around the blue ones in a circle. "We have tunnels here, here, and here."

From the pocket of a hamper, she pulled a pencil and marked down what Gregor presumed were tunnels around the rat's camp. "Each of you captains will take your division down one of the tunnels. We encircle and surprise them, keep them in this cave, while Gregor will take this path." She drew another line, a little offside, leading to the pyramid of the Bane, "to the plain."

A murmur erupted immediately; it was who Gregor presumed to be Ruvin who spoke first: "Is it wise to split our forces? The gnawers' numbers are as large as ours and if they chase us into the tunnels instead, they will have the advantage as our fliers will be limited in space."

"Then you will not allow them to push you back," Solovet replied and Gregor couldn't help but shudder at the ice in her voice. Only now he registered that, while most appeared to be here with their bonds—including Mareth and Andromeda—Ajax was nowhere to be seen.

Perdita and the silver bat exchanged glances. "Captain Ruvin is right," the bat finally raised her voice. "I have spoken to the scouts as well. Cassiopeia and Elpis say the tunnels are narrow, only a few feet wider than our wingspans. If we traverse them we will have to do so in a column, and if the gnawers hear us coming, they will extinguish us one by one."

"Gaia speaks the truth." Perdita stepped forward and nodded at the silver bat—Gaia. Was she her bond? "Lear, Henna, and Bertram told the same."

The murmur's volume increased and Gregor winced when Solovet slammed her hand on the table. "SILENCE!"

All went quiet in an instant and she took a deep breath before continuing: "Of course it poses a risk."

Silence.

"Yet we must not forget what our true target, our true goal, is." She took up Gregor's pyramid. "If the monster's blood is spilled, the war ends. And it is our goal to make sure that happens." She slammed the pyramid into the table so hard that the white one next to it fell over.

"And . . . what of yourself? Will you accompany any of the divisions?"

Solovet regarded Perdita's bat Gaia with a glare. "I'm afraid I cannot." Her frigid voice rose above the rekindled murmur. "I have an appointment with representatives of the spinners tomorrow. They will only speak to me, so they have proclaimed."

Nobody responded or even commented and an almost eerily quiet pause followed.

"So," Solovet eventually broke her own silence, "you will assemble your divisions and instruct your Lieutenants to march in five hours sharp. Ajax and I will depart with you. So are my orders."

"Oh well," Gregor winced as Ripred, who had remained surprisingly quiet until now, at last spoke. "If so are your orders, so we will do it, of course."

Not a single person dared to protest.

***

It was not keeping his mind occupied . . . Not occupied enough. Gregor swung his sword over and over, stance after stance, as he had practiced with Mareth. If only the Bane was here now. If only he could get this over with now. Gregor let out a strained scream as his blade clanked against the stone.

"Careful, there. You wouldn't want to break it, would you?"

Gregor groaned and turned to Ripred in the entrance to the little cave he had retreated to for practice. Or just some quiet. Maybe that one.

"Are the five hours over yet?"

Ripred shook his head. "Barely two have passed. Though everyone is in dismay, of course."

Gregor sheathed his sword and shuddered at the thought of the enraged, confused, helpless, and shocked faces Solovet had left behind, around the table. Nobody had understood why she insisted on taking such a high risk, not even Gregor.

"Why is she doing this?" He plopped down beside the hand lantern he had taken from the camp. "I thought you said she wanted to win this war too."

"I am not sure." Ripred tilted his head. "Maybe she believes it to be the easiest way to distract the Bane's forces from you, and maybe she is right. Except, of course, the risk it poses. But she will hardly care."

Gregor bit his lip. "Where is she? And where is Ares? And Lizzie and Boots? And Vikus? Are they alright?"

Ripred sighed. "Went to sleep, they all. Solovet too. I checked on the civilians earlier, your sisters and your flier are fine. He went to speak with Nike. She is in some distress, I think." Gregor narrowed his eyes, yet before he could ask, Ripred chuckled. "How you still squeeze in worry for us others is remarkable, with what you have looming over your own head."

Gregor winced as he recalled Kismet saying a very similar thing, back at the citadel. "I . . ."

"Let me ask you something," Ripred said when Gregor didn't finish his sentence. "Do you truly believe you will not live through this battle?"

Gregor stared at the rat with confusion. "What are you . . . I mean, what do you . . . ?"

Ripred sighed. "Ah, it's as I feared. You've let this get to you, haven't you?"

Gregor needed not to answer; his strained face with the sunken eyes and the forcibly clenched jaw spoke for itself.

"Oh boy, did we truly not learn from our past?" Ripred groaned. "I've been thinking, you see? About prophecies and all. And . . . in the past, how many prophecies have we interpreted correctly, on our first time through?"

Gregor frowned. What was there to misinterpret about—?

"None," Ripred cut into his thoughts, answering his own question. "So why'd you assume this one'll be different?" When Gregor still didn't reply, Ripred groaned louder. "Boy, will you work with me here for a second?"

"I don't know!" Gregor finally blurted out. "I mean, yeah, we tend to be wrong, but how many ways to interpret "when the warrior has been killed" even are there?"

Ripred tilted his head. "Well, considering Henry managed to live through being "the last who will die" . . . probably more than you think."

Gregor froze with his jaw dropped. Only by gathering all his willpower did he manage to close it again. He had actually forgotten about that line and Henry's surviving it. "Y-You mean . . ."

"I MEAN we don't know how it'll play out, is all I mean." The rat scraped his claw on the floor. "And I'll not have your fighting skills compromised because of some stupid worries, got it? You'll go out there, and you'll kick ass—what's left of the Bane's ass, anyway—and you'll return well enough. I am not arguing about this."

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile spread on Gregor's face. "Yeah. I think I can do that."

"Good." The rat moved from the wall he'd leaned on. "Then show me what you've got, how about it?"

Gregor had already scrambled up and closed his hand around the hilt of his sword when he stopped again. "Wait . . . What will we do about Solovet's plan? We can't just go through with it, can we?"

Ripred froze and glanced behind himself. "Uh . . . Well, the two of us can hardly do anything about that predicament. But I believe there—AH, finally!" Before Gregor could bat an eye, he had disappeared out of sight and then returned just as swiftly—dragging along two semi-protesting, familiar figures. "But these two—who are MORE than fashionably late, by the way—can."

"LUXA!" Gregor instantly darted forward, at her, before properly registering she wasn't alone. "—Henry!"

"Well, someone's eager." The outcast grinned and Luxa punched him . . . Or at least, she tried. He caught her hand easily and she hissed "Not fair!"

"You, you're here!" Gregor stammered and looked back and forth between them. He squinted; something about Henry seemed different. Only then he registered his hair was braided now, instead of tied to a ponytail. It perfectly mirrored Luxa's own hairstyle, which was almost surprisingly neat. She must have fixed it up recently.

This was it, he thought, his gaze remained hovering on her. Luxa was here. His bucket list consisted only of a single thing, Gregor saw it before his inner eye as though he had really written it down. She was here, and . . . and so were Ripred and Henry, who already looked back and forth between the two, exchanging knowing grins.

He pressed his lips together. A thousand questions shot through his head as he stared at Luxa, yet she beat him to speaking: "We were out regrouping Lapblood's and Splintleg's forces. After Whitespur's death, it was not an easy task." Her gaze darted toward Henry. "Yet he was as convincing as she would have been."

"Don't exaggerate." Her cousin shook his head although his eye glowed with apparent pride. "I could never replace her. But I'll still do what must be done." He exchanged a glance with Ripred. "He left us a message in the turtle shaft, informing us where you'd be. We overheard it all. There's a cave directly above your camp; it is only accessible through the air, but it makes for an excellent hiding spot."

Luxa nodded. "Aurora and Thanatos are rallying up the other fliers. We must act now. I will not allow Solovet to send my army to their certain deaths."

For the first time in forever, Gregor felt hope. Luxa was here, and so were Henry and Ripred, who—as flaky and dangerously irresponsible as they could be sometimes—were also excellent strategists and way more knowledgeable about the warfare system in the Underland. He smiled. "So . . . you have a plan?"

Henry and Ripred exchanged glances. "Well . . . not exactly," the outcast mumbled and grinned. "But I MIGHT have a plan soon . . . maybe."

Luxa and Ripred began uncontrollably giggling and Gregor barely suppressed the urge to facepalm. It was still Ripred and Henry, at the end of the day.

"So, uh . . . meet us in fifteen or so minutes in the camp. We'll call together as many soldiers as we can. Sit tight, and don't take too long."

Gregor looked up at Ripred, confused. The rat had already grabbed an equally bewildered Henry by the arm. "Come on, we've business to do."

"But they—"

"THEY won't be of much help anyway. Her Majesty's being alive is best announced before an appropriate audience, and I can't even remotely picture the Great Warrior here being useful in this matter."

Within seconds the two had vanished from the cave. All that remained was Gregor, Luxa, and the still quietly crackling torch. His gaze instantly became transfixed by her and despite his best efforts, his heartbeat elevated. His unwritten bucket list came to mind and for a moment he contemplated whether Ripred had somehow guessed all this, whether he had left them alone on purpose.

It was hard to picture the rat doing anything of the sort for him, then again . . . Hadn't he told Gregor to not waste time before sending them home to Regalia after their quest to follow the mice? And . . . his conversation with Lizzie about his own loss came to mind. He sure knew more than one should about saying goodbye.

"You . . ."

"I . . ."

Both laughed as they had spoken at the same time.

"You first," Luxa said.

Gregor swallowed. He hadn't the slightest clue as to what he had meant to say. "I just . . . how have you been doing, out there, with Henry? You . . . seem to be getting along again."

Luxa nodded. "Much has happened between us, but I have no animosity left. I shouldn't have had any for quite a while now. It is good to have him back. Henry, I mean." When Gregor looked at her, she was smiling.

She didn't elaborate, but he knew what she meant anyway. He had family he loved more than anything and he didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to lose any of them in the way that Luxa had lost Henry.

"Who knows?" Gregor shrugged. "Maybe now you two can someday make Stellovet eat moth cocoons again."

He didn't know why it was that story, of all, that had trickled back into his mind but Luxa snorted with laughter and Gregor laughed along. "I cannot believe you remembered this," she giggled. "And . . . I do get along better with Stellovet now, but maybe you are right. Maybe we should."

At that moment, Gregor thought he would give anything to be there and see it. Not because he enjoyed pranks or wanted to see Stellovet miserable, but because on the day Henry and Luxa could occupy themselves with things like that, their lives would be so much more carefree than they were now.

"I . . ." Luxa ceased laughing and glanced at him. "I must also apologize for being angry with you after I found out you kept Henry's secret. You did what he asked of you, and likely what was for the best in general. I just . . . I was angry because . . ."

"Because I wasn't being honest with you? That was the hardest part, you know?"

A brief moment of hesitation later, Gregor sat down by the wall and Luxa followed his example. "How did you . . ."

"I listened to him and Ripred talk," shrugged Gregor. "Me and Ares. He asked me to keep it a secret, so that he could fulfill that vow he made with you. He thought you wouldn't let him if you knew who he was."

"I was very angry with him," Luxa mumbled. "For . . . For things he had already atoned for."

"It wasn't like you had an opportunity to be angry with him before."

"That's likely why." Luxa sighed and Gregor saw that she felt bad about it anyway. "But," she shook her head, "I believe I . . . I have sensed it was him for a while. I did not acknowledge it for I did not want it to be him. But Henry and I have known each other too well in the past for me to not recognize him. I just . . . Part of me could not process the one who had betrayed me would ever return to aid me again. That he didn't . . . hate me after all."

"Henry never hated you!"

"He told me this as well," she mumbled. "Yet it was . . . not easy to believe."

"Did you blame yourself for it . . . For what he did, I mean?"

Luxa's following silence spoke for itself. "I know I shouldn't have," she eventually spoke on, "but how could I not?"

"Betrayal's always sort of a personal thing, isn't it?"

She nodded. "But then I thought of Dalia and it became harder and harder to stop myself from asking myself whether he'd had a . . . A reason of the sort as well. Whether it wasn't because he . . . Well, it turned out that was the case. All I had to do was believe him when he told me."

"Yeah. I'm glad you're getting along again," Gregor didn't look away from her until she returned his gaze. "He's really changed . . . You know, that conversation we had about changing back when we went to save Stellovet? We all changed but I think Henry's the one who changed for the better the most."

Luxa nodded. "He has . . . but he also has not."

Gregor smiled as he recalled Ares had said a very similar thing when they had first found out. But despite the seemingly happy topic, she wasn't smiling.

"Hey . . . are you okay?"

Luxa averted her gaze again. "He has found his place," she mumbled. "I sometimes wish for things to just go back to the way they were before, but . . . they will never be as before."

"What . . . do you mean?" Gregor scooted even closer. His hand hovered over her shoulder before he finally placed it down. "What about the moth cocoon thing, didn't you say—"

When Luxa looked up he spotted in her eyes more sorrow than he had in a long time. "He is not coming back, Gregor."

"Not . . . you mean . . . ?"

"I mean," she said rigidly, pulling her legs up. "He has informed me that he will never go back to Regalia even if there was a nigh-absolute guarantee for him to be pardoned."

". . . Oh." Gregor felt a chill down his spine and he had no idea how to respond to that. He thought about Henry and his life out here; before they had met up again, to try and save the mice, he'd gone to explore new places. He'd been contented. Perhaps even happy. For himself, he couldn't imagine anything of the sort, but for Henry, life as an outcast may just be what would make him happy indeed.

"I know I cannot force him, Gregor," Luxa sobbed. "But perhaps this was also a reason as to why I refused to believe he had returned. Because, maybe, I knew he would not be moved to stay. Because I knew I would regain him only briefly and then . . . lose him again."

Gregor barely registered what he was doing until he had already wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry." There were no other words in him but he also thought he didn't need to say anything else.

He could not tell for how long they sat there; eventually, she had rested her head on his shoulder and everything in him refused to move, but he knew their time here was limited. They were awaited.

"There is . . . something I wanted you to have," he finally sighed and eased his embrace to somewhat arduously pull out the photo of them Henry had taken, that he had once again stashed beneath his breastplate. "Just to keep safe, for . . ." He stopped himself before he could say "For in case I won't come back".

"For until you return?" Luxa finished his sentence and Gregor nodded. He watched her face lighten a little when she recognized the photo.

"I still have that one of us dancing at Hazard's party to keep for myself, well, somewhere . . ." He managed a grin.

"Yes, that is a good one." Luxa looked at him pensively, though there was also something new in her look. Something that had Gregor's heart aching with sadness and beating faster from excitement at the same time. "There . . . is also something I'd like you to have." Her eyes lowered. "But that is something I want you to return later. Can you do that?"

Gregor frowned. "Uh . . . sure, but what—"

Before he could finish his sentence she had pulled closer and kissed him. Despite the brevity of the moment, something not unlike the rager sensation, but warmer, more tingly, traveled through his body. Their lips parted and he could see her face registering the feeling as well.

For a heartbeat, they held each other's gaze; her hair still brushed his cheek. "Can . . . you do that?" she repeated, and his mouth curved into a smile.

"Yeah . . . I think I can."