"What mean you, they are gone?" Henry stared at Kismet, immediately forgetting all about the backpack he had been packing.

"Ripred insisted on scouting ahead before you others woke, to ensure the road to your city is clear," she replied. "And your child queen and her flier insisted on coming along. She seemed in a dire mood."

Unsurprising, thought Henry, averting his gaze. So at last, cease haunting me! After she had run off, he hadn't gone to sleep; instead, he had remained sitting by that river and stared into black oblivion, deluding himself that she would return and that he might say to her everything he hadn't said yet, but in vain. Kismet had eventually come to fetch him, claiming they should get going soon.

"Before we depart, I must take a look at your injury." Henry jumped when Howard tapped his shoulder. Only a little reluctant, he stripped out of his shirt and allowed Howard to change the bandage. "It is not infected. Will you manage to remove the stitch on your own? It is too early yet."

Henry nodded. "I have dealt with worse."

"Very well." Howard shot him a troubled look. "Let us depart then. The supplies we brought from the stingers' land are depleted, so we must skip breakfast."

"It shan't be a problem." Henry shrugged and rose to his feet, slipping his shirt back on, then donning his sword belt and cloak. "I am certain they will feed you lavishly in Regalia, no matter the war. So, we go into battle hungry once. It will not kill us."

"You? Go into battle?" Thanatos came up beside him, throwing him a skeptical look. "Your injury is barely a few days old."

"Four," said Henry, counting on his fingers. "Two days spent at the stingers', and two here. I shall be just fine."

"You should take care either way, lest the stitch come undone," heeded Howard sourly. "Were you a patient in the hospital, I would prescribe bed rest for a minimum of one week and preclude you from any manual labor, including battle, for another two."

"Fortunately, I am not a patient in the hospital." Henry patted his shoulder with a grin, and Howard merely rolled his eyes. When Henry shifted his gaze away, he saw the others had since gathered around him and his torch, lighting the space as it had last night. They all looked gloomy and dire, with none of them seeming to have slept any better than Henry.

"What is with all this grimness? You will all be home again soon. I tolerate no pessimism; you should know this by now." He ruffled Gregor's hair as the Overlander came up beside him.

"Y-Yes, but what about you?" asked Gregor, trying to flatten his freshly disheveled hair as he stifled laughter.

"Me?"

"We are going to Regalia, yet you are not coming with us," said Nike, her eyes lowered.

"Oh, have no concerns about me." Henry waved. "I am capable of fending for myself."

"No one doubts that," said Howard. "Yet does that hold in times of war? As an ally of Regalia, they might target you directly."

"And so what? The last one who attempted this was Longclaw, and he lies dead in his own arena. Come on, have you no faith in me?" He managed a crooked smile. "I hear no one ever having such concerns about Ripred."

"I'm worried about Ripred too," mumbled Gregor.

"You should worry less," replied Henry, shoving him. "I already told you, I have no plans to die."

Gregor managed a tentative smile, but it did nothing to brighten the mood. Henry pushed his own pains and concerns aside and smiled back. "Have more spirit," he tried again. "Now is not the time to be disheartened. Without hope, the war will be lost before it has properly begun."

"And he continues to saturate everything within his reach with his hope," mumbled Ares with a sigh.

"Why do you mind?" asked Hera earnestly. "I am more ready than ever to fly. My pups must learn of my well-being sooner rather than later."

"They are cared for, I assure you." Howard stroked her face.

"They must be awaiting your return eagerly," added Henry. "And your arrival," he turned to Iro, "will be the event of a lifetime. I think no pincher has ever set foot in Regalia."

"None," concurred Iro. "I am anticipating." He clicked his pincers a few times, seeming beyond thrilled.

"If no one is moping anymore, we fly," proclaimed Henry, shouldering his backpack.

"Look, I know you say you'll be fine, and I trust you," said Gregor suddenly, stepping in front of him. "I know you'll just tell me to believe in you. And I will. But I still don't like parting ways. Okay?"

In response, Henry gave Gregor the first smile of the day that he didn't have to force in the slightest.

"Hey, Henry? You take care, okay?" said Gregor, and then he hugged him tightly. "Like I said, we're friends. Just don't get killed. Neither of you. Please." He turned his face to smile at Thanatos.

"I shall do my best," assured Henry, still smiling. "And my best is exceptionally good, you know."

Gregor nodded.

"Although you must promise to practice your echolocation," added Henry, and then he threw overboard all reservations and locked his arms around Gregor so tightly that he released a strained "Oof!"

"Certainly, we are friends." Gregor was less than a head shorter than he, and yet Henry easily lifted and hauled him around in a circle, putting him on his feet in front of Ares. Gregor yelped, yet Henry only laughed. "Being my friend also entails that you let no one pick on you or kick your ass. Not that overgrown white rat pup, not any prophecy, and not Ripred the bully either."

"Okay, okay!" Gregor insisted; he sounded like he was torn between breaking either into laughter or tears. "This time, I'll also greet Nerissa for you when I see her."

Tell Nerissa that he is very proud of her, and that she is always in his thoughts. He has confidence in her well-being, he will never forget her, and . . . Henry gritted his teeth, releasing Gregor. "Many thanks."

"Have no worry for Nerissa," said Ares, looking at the slightly disheveled Gregor with a mix of bemusement and concern. "She is doing quite well."

"As one would expect," said Henry.

"Worry not for Nerissa, indeed. And you, Overlander, worry not for Henry either." Howard came up beside Henry, giving him a hefty pat on the arm. "He is too insufferable to die. Besides, Luxa might forgive him for his treason eventually, yet certainly not if he chose to die on us now."

"Not only Luxa would never forgive you," said Nike as she pressed her face into that of Thanatos. "None of us ever would."

Ares, on Thanatos' other side, shook his head. "They shall not die. Either they are too insufferable or too optimistic for death. Or perhaps both."

"We will never forget your kindness and guidance," added Hera.

"Until we meet again," said Iro behind the two fliers, his feelers quivering.

Despite the dire situation and his disastrous conversation with Luxa last night, Henry broke with a wide grin as he surveyed them all, tightly huddled around him. "Oh, be still, you lot. One last thing," he suddenly recalled. "I would appreciate it if you might "forget" my name once you have arrived back in Regalia. Purely for convenience, obviously."

"Don't worry, we won't tell," confirmed Gregor immediately.

"Forget your name, you say?" Howard scowled. "In the same manner as you "forgot" my name back on the waterway? What might I call you instead, then?"

Henry broke into laughter. "Oh, you recall that?"

"I recall Hildebrand, Horatius, and Hubertus . . ." Howard counted on his fingers. "I suppose I owe it to you to think of something impeccable to call you in turn."

Henry once again snorted with laughter. "By all means, as long as you keep my identity, knock yourself out. Yet, do tell me what you come up with!" He surveyed them one last time, how they were all having difficulty holding back laughter now. "At last, you are less gloomy," he said with a satisfied smile. "Do not tell me your mood was so low because of this separation?" He pictured their hostile expressions and their deliberate exclusion at the start of this quest and felt a warm, tingly feeling creep up in his chest. "Since when do you care so much?"

"Of course, they care," said Thanatos.

"You are all truly beyond my comprehension." Henry grinned ear-to-ear until it dawned on him that, now that they finally seemed to have accepted him, he might never see them again. This was . . . goodbye.

"Yes, yes, we've all established that we care about each other and whatnot," snarled another voice from the corner. "Yet if you are all but done with the sentimental mush, we might embark to fight the war that awaits sometime soon."

"You are only jealous because you were not a part of the sentimental mush," said Henry to Kismet, and they all laughed together one final time.

Then Henry pulled himself onto Thanatos' back. Gregor mounted Nike, Howard and Iro settled on Hera, and Kismet on Ares. Mere minutes later, they were in the air and en route . . . into the war zone.

***

Kismet led them after Ripred's, Luxa's, and Aurora's scents confidently, yet they did not catch up for several hours. The further they flew, the more concerned Henry became, until Aurora finally shot out of a side tunnel, joining their rows.

Ripred, perched on a rock below, took a flying leap and twisted in mid-air to land and seamlessly start running underneath them. "The path we scouted was clear, though it requires some swimming . . . unless you'll be so kind as to carry us across," he shouted upward.

"Have no worries; we shall," replied Thanatos, yet Henry's eye was locked on Luxa's back. She flew in front of him without ever turning or even acknowledging him.

"She needs time," mumbled Thanatos.

Henry groaned, then leaned forward until he lay on his stomach against the neck of his flier. "I must tell you something," he said, then recounted their conversation last night.

Thanatos remained silent throughout, and in the end, he only repeated what he had said before: "She needs time. It was the right thing to do," he added after a short pause. "You did everything you could. You did everything right."

"I hope," replied Henry, thinking to himself that he'd give her time if only they were not parting ways. If only he had time to give her.

They flew for a long while, through tunnels and then a large portion of a river, as Ripred had warned. They rearranged themselves so that Ripred and Kismet could be carried across before Henry could go back to Thanatos. After the river, the gnawers claimed they could run, and so Howard switched to Nike and Gregor to Ares—as Henry thought, in anticipation of battle. Would there be a battle? Perhaps not; perhaps they were all merely paranoid. And yet, he strapped on the saddle gear anyway.

They were all so tired that everyone eventually fell asleep; even Henry dozed off after a while. When he woke, his first thought was that their caution had been justified—because what had woken him were unmistakably battle cries.

"Impossible . . ." mumbled Howard, and Henry's mouth fell open when he took in the view. The fliers perched in a tunnel, maybe a hundred feet above ground; ahead lay Regalia's wall, and underneath, there had gathered hundreds of gnawers.

The fliers were tired, but the sight of the gnawer army made everyone forget their exhaustion. For Henry, it was the sight of the wall that made his throat tighten. Regalia . . . there it was. So close, yet worlds away for one like him.

"They . . . are so many . . ." mumbled Gregor.

"We can't go further," said Ripred, eyes on the wall. "Not in the light." He indicated the torches the humans had used to light the space.

"Let us wait until they begin the battle," said Henry, making a face—now it was back to waiting. From the corner of his eye, he watched Luxa tighten her hold on Aurora's fur and Gregor fiddle at the hilt of his sword anxiously.

"Why are they all not attacking? Like, what are they waiting for?" asked the Overlander.

"It seems like a challenge," replied Henry. "As we discussed last night. They are waiting for a signal."

Gregor nodded, and yet they spent the next ten minutes in tense, stifling silence. When the first wave of fliers, at last, took off from the wall and the gnawers rose up to meet them, Henry almost sighed in relief. The soldiers flew in a familiar, tight formation and dove as one into the fray, and the group around him didn't need another signal. Aurora with Luxa was up first; Thanatos, Ares, Nike, and Hera followed. Henry felt Thanatos grab onto Ripred to lift him down, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Ares do the same with Kismet.

Henry watched his companions head straight for the gnawers below, while Thanatos dropped Ripred and then rose, flying in circles until Henry had drawn and lit his Igniter. As soon as his sword stood alight, he raised it above his head. Thanatos pulled his wings in, shooting downward, and Henry joined in his tremendous battle cry.

As always, when he battled, Henry ceased thinking. He focused on his senses, on each opportunity and each weakness that he could reach and make into a death. Every unprotected eye, every artery, and every neck within reach met his flaming blade.

He fought not as recklessly as he might have, had his own chest not stung upon every impact of his weapon, reminding him to take special care. Yet whenever he and Thanatos battled, they transformed into a true unit—where Henry could not push himself to the limit, his flier made up for it with additional dodge work and maneuvers that brought him within closer range.

Occasionally, soldiers flew by, gawking, yet Henry paid them no mind. In this gear, with his weapon poised and slicing, he could focus only on one thing—demonstrate why he deserved to be called one of the Underland's deadliest warriors.

As on every battlefield, blood was an ever-present sight. It flew from swinging blades, stained the fur of fliers, and poured out of gnawers' bodies on the ground. Although they always drew back from the burning sword—occasionally even recognizing him, shouting "Death Rider!"—Thanatos' fur had long become damp. Henry's hair and shirt became soaked when he, in an upside-down position, drove his blade deep beneath a gnawer's clavicle, meeting a spurt of blood in turn.

Then they shot directly in between two fliers with soldiers who were compelled to dart apart, to pierce the neck of a gnawer who had prepared to leap at a woman whose flier lay as a still, bloody mass on the ground.

For one moment, Henry contemplated pulling the same trick as with Howard in the Firelands, then he took notice of how many fliers there were here to receive her. So, Henry rotated upward in the same heartbeat as Thanatos clawed her up, then he tossed her in the air so that another soldier could catch her.

"Death Rider!" more voices called, including the woman who glanced back in their direction more than once.

Yet Thanatos had no second to spare for lingering. He weaved out of the way of three gnawers who had launched a coordinated leap toward him, presumably to throw him to the ground. One of them found Henry's sword lodged deep in its eye socket; another was met with Thanatos' talons. The third might have dug its claws into Henry if he hadn't rotated down on time and drawn Mys in the same heartbeat. The dagger cleanly severed the rat's tail, and it shrieked, toppling to the ground.

As more and more began to cluster around them, Henry pulled up and leaned forward, signaling Thanatos to perform their signature coiler. Rotating down and stretching both his weapons out, they cut through the screeching gnawers like a spinning saw blade.

Henry had no feel for time during battle, so he only ceased when he realized the number of enemies had decreased. "They are retreating!" someone shouted ahead, and indeed, the gnawers seemed to be gathering at the back end of the cave.

Thanatos rose higher, and Henry shook blood-soaked hair out of his face, then thought to check on his fellow questers for the first time. There, on the ground, Ripred and Kismet stood back to back, surrounded by dozens of mangled gnawer corpses. Above their heads circled Ares with Gregor until a passing soldier called to him that the humans should retreat as well.

"Should we?" Thanatos indicated the command center on top of the wall.

"I can see neither Luxa with Aurora nor Howard with Nike." He strained himself in vain to spot either Aurora's golden or Nike's striped fur amid the mess of the battlefield. Then he broke off, realizing that they were surrounded. Five soldiers on their fliers circled around them; their weapons were sheathed, yet their faces were stern. Henry thought he recognized one or two . . . from another lifetime.

"Identify yourself!" one called.

"Follow us to the wall!" another.

Even though they continued to follow on his tail, they retreated a little as soon as Thanatos headed for the command center. Seeing the tightly crowded wall evoked a little smile. How many hours had he spent here, as a child, chatting with the guards or playing watchman with his toy sword?

When the people atop the platform that made up the command center spotted Thanatos, they hastily made room. As he touched down in their midst, Henry couldn't help a pang of anxiety. Technically, no one had invited them to this battle. What if they attempted to arrest them?

Then, a clear, firm voice cut through the murmur: "Thanatos . . . It has been far too long. It is good to see you."

". . . Solovet." Henry watched her as she stepped forward to greet him, his eye immediately finding the commander crest glaring on her chest. Of course, Mareth had mentioned that she had been reinstated.

"Ah, the man with the burning sword knows my name. How curious." She gave him a courteous smile. "May I assume that I stand before the fabled Death Rider, who has saved our quests more times than is worth counting?" She eyed him up and down. "The mural in our nursery does not do you justice."

Henry nodded, scrutinizing his former mentor with care. Although she initially appeared resolute and self-assured, upon more thorough observation, the unmistakable changes she had undergone since their last encounter became apparent. Her uniform hung loosely on her wiry frame, and despite her efforts to disguise it, her cheeks and eyes were sunken, and her hair—in her usual tight braid—was noticeably thinner. As he finally returned her smile, he noticed that her eyes were not smiling along.

"We are the Death Rider," declared Henry, extinguishing his sword and then sheathing it before beginning to untie the saddle straps. "Knowing you is not difficult these days, either. Most who do not live under a rock do."

"I shall take that as a compliment," said Solovet, inspecting him as keenly as he had her until an underlying, unmistakable look entered her eyes that Henry could not place. "It is good to finally meet you." Then, to Henry's surprise, she extended her hand to him. Henry could not recall ever being offered such a gesture from her, and when he finally dismounted and grasped her hand, it felt bony, almost frail, in his.

For one moment, they stood there, holding each other's gazes as if she were aware of who it truly was in front of her. Then a different flier drew her attention as he touched down next to Thanatos. "Gregor, Ares—as good as it is to see you, I hope you are aware that your irresponsible actions will have consequences," said Solovet, releasing Henry.

"We weren't irresponsible," retorted Gregor, sounding less confident than he probably intended when he dismounted.

"You might be thankful for our "irresponsible actions" soon, indeed," added Ares, sliding in front of Gregor as though to shield him.

"Yes, yes," snarled a new voice. "Maybe just this once, give the kids a break." Ripred drew all gazes as he emerged between the bats. "They did a great job this time. Why, didn't you know that, thanks to the diplomatic skills of your dear granddaughter, Regalia has itself two new allies? Come, come, Iro, introduce yourself!" He waved toward Hera, who had landed on the edge, with Iro still tentatively perched on her back.

As soon as Solovet spotted him, she made her way over, accompanied by a large, burly man in the uniform of a captain, whose name Henry couldn't recall. Yet no one in sight wore the attire of deputy.

For a moment, Henry contemplated this oddity, then he turned to Gregor. "Mareth did not say why she has been reinstated. Do you know?" he asked quietly.

"They said something about her being the only one fit to lead the army," Gregor whispered back. "Apparently, her deputy is dead."

"I was wondering about that." Henry glanced over at Solovet again. He had admired and respected her all his life, yet she was not the same as she had been before. He felt the change in her demeanor acutely, wondering what exactly it was about her that made shivers slide down his spine. Was it her commission of the plague? Or something else—something less tangible? Or everything all at once? Either way, then and there, he admitted to himself that she too was among the people who would never be as they had once been . . . except in her case, the change had not been for the better.

"Ripred?" He turned, spotting him beside Thanatos and eyeing Solovet as well. "Where is Kismet?"

Ripred turned around, looking uncharacteristically concerned. "She went to look for your other folk. Don't tell me you haven't been missing them—Her Highness and Howard, along with their fliers?"

Henry froze. "I presumed they were here somewhere." He attempted to catch a glimpse of golden or striped fur atop the bustling command center, but in vain. "Gregor?" He tapped his shoulder. "Might you ask Solovet where Luxa is?" He was an outcast; he had no justifiable excuse to ask about the queen's whereabouts himself.

Immediately, Gregor's eyes widened. "Solovet, where is Luxa?" he asked at once. "And Howard?"

Solovet interrupted her discussion with Iro, turning back to them. "I sent them ahead to the city before you arrived here," she replied without missing a beat. "They will also face consequences."

Henry exchanged a glance with Ripred. Howard, yes, but . . . had Luxa obliged so willingly? Without even . . . A thorn pierced his heart at the thought that she hadn't even bothered looking at him. Not said goodbye. Not even with her eyes.

"When was that? I did not see them pass through at all," a familiar voice chimed in suddenly, and Henry turned to see Mareth on Andromeda, making his way toward Solovet.

"Before the official call to retreat," she said with a dry smile. "I had them escorted."

Mareth raised an eyebrow but then merely nodded.

"This might explain why there was no drama," mumbled Henry.

"In any case," Solovet turned back to Henry. "I must thank you for fighting by our side today. And I would like to laud your abilities; I have never seen any human-flier pair fight with so much skill and effectiveness. That construction you use to rotate is fascinating."

"It is invaluable, indeed." Henry grinned, thinking about how eager his two-year-younger self would be to hear words such as these from her—praise from Solovet was exceedingly hard to come by. The last time he remembered clearly was after he had defeated the blood balls. And finally, someone who appreciated his saddle. Honestly, it did not surprise him that she, of all people, would.

"You know about Luxa's new alliances. Perhaps you should also know about my pledge to her," he said. "I may be an outcast, yet I have every intention to fight by Regalia's side in this war. So I have today, and so I shall in the future." He tipped an imaginary hat at her.

"Is that so?" Solovet eyed him keenly. "What a fascinating development. I suppose I ought to congratulate Luxa after all for securing such excellent alliances. On behalf of Regalia, I express my gratitude for your pledge."

She gave him a curt salute, then turned to Ares and Gregor. "And now about you two." She eyed Gregor from head to toe. "I have witnessed you in battle for the first time today, and I must say that I was greatly disappointed." She turned to Mareth. "He is woefully unprepared. This is not meant as criticism; I know your time with him has been very limited. But his equipment is flawed. He has not even proper armor, and his left side is noticeably weak. Can we not double-arm him?"

Gregor stared at her, appalled, yet Henry had to stifle laughter. This was the Solovet he knew, alright. Judging by Gregor's face, he hadn't had the honor yet.

But the more seconds went by in this manner, the more concerned Henry became for the others. If Luxa and Howard were indeed back in the city, why had Kismet gone out then? She would not be so careless as to miss that.

"Ripred, did the others really come through here?" he finally asked. Then his attention was momentarily caught by Solovet handing Gregor her own dagger—the same one he had always wanted to hold when he had been little. She had always denied him until Hamnet had finally given him an equally beautiful one.

"I'm not sure," replied Ripred. "It's hard to tell if they were flying. But if I were you, I'd go check."

Henry nodded and exchanged a glance with Thanatos, who nodded back.

"So what do we do now? Are we going to attack again?" Gregor asked Solovet.

"Us—shortly, yes. But you two?" She eyed him and Ares with something that Henry could only describe as . . . caution. "I am sending you both back to Regalia. To training."

"Is that really necessary?" asked Ripred before Gregor could open his mouth himself.

"It is if he continues to run off without forewarning or care," retorted Solovet coldly. "Outside of refining his technique, what he ought to be taught is discipline."

Gregor's mouth snapped shut, and his face became grave. "Do not let her bully you." Henry wrapped an arm around his shoulder, whispering in his ear. "Play along for now. Perhaps you might reap some gain out of this training after all."

Gregor hesitated only for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks. Take care," he added quickly, then Henry released him so that he could climb onto Ares' back.

"Fly you high, Overlander!" called Henry.

"Fly you high, indeed," echoed Ripred, staring after him pensively.

"And now, you must excuse me," announced Henry, mounting Thanatos. "It has been a pleasure. I shall do my best to be of aid whenever I can—of that, I assure you."

For a moment, Solovet actually looked like she was contemplating forcing him to stay. Then she regained her self-control and eased. "Very well. And . . . fly you high."