As soon as Thanatos was in the air, Henry blew out a relieved breath. Waving goodbye to Ripred, Gregor, and Ares, who stayed on the platform, they headed straight for the other side of the cave.

"Would you mind explaining why we are looking for them?" asked Thanatos as they scanned the corpse-littered battlefield for any trace of their unaccounted-for friends. "If Solovet says they are in Regalia, why would she be lying?"

"Ripred said that Kismet went to look for them. I have a bad feeling about this," replied Henry, unsure how to put his inkling into words.

Thanatos did not press him for more. He continued to fly in circles that grew wider with each iteration, although he avoided the gnawers gathering by the back wall and in the adjacent tunnels there. Then, as they passed a large tunnel close to the ground, Thanatos' ears twitched, and he dove inside.

Henry leaned forward, straining his ears. "There are gnawers," he whispered. "Over here? We are far from their gathering."

Thanatos only accelerated, and Henry's hand flew to the hilt of his sword. The moment he drew it, his flier shot out into a wider cave. It was pitch dark, but Henry saw the gnawers by the sounds they made, and . . . his eye widened. "They are here!" He slit the first neck heartbeats before it could have leaped for—

Up ahead, a piteous cry rang out in a voice that Henry recognized all too well. In a single motion, he drew his boomerang and struck the gnawer lunging at Luxa with deadly precision. Blood sprayed, speckling his face and Luxa's, yet neither of them had been injured. Beside her, Henry discerned Howard by the audible yet blind and aimless swings of his sword.

"What seek you here?!" he yelled, yet had no time to wait for a reply. As he fended off gnawer after gnawer, he found himself more and more bewildered by just how many of them seemed to be finding their way inside. Hadn't they all retreated?

Then, a harrowing screech tore the silence, followed by the lean figure of a gnawer swatting one of her own kind out of the air just as it had leaped. A rush of adrenaline swept over Henry, and he shut his eye, surrendering himself to his echolocation to fight by Kismet's side.

Within less than a minute, the battle was over. Thanatos landed in the middle of the cave, closely followed by another flier, of whom Henry couldn't tell whether it was Nike or Aurora without his eyesight. "Fare you all well?" he asked into the darkness. Only when approving mumbles arose did he fetch his torch.

When the light flickered and finally pierced the all-consuming darkness, it met an array of strained and frightened faces. "We fare well," said Howard, yet Henry saw that he was bleeding quite badly from a cut across his stomach. Next to him on the floor cowered Luxa, seemingly unharmed but . . . leaning over the dreadfully still body of a golden flier.

As soon as he took this in, Howard staggered past a frozen Henry and over to the two, almost tripping into Nike in the process, to confirm that Aurora lived.

When he called out, a wave of relief flooded Henry, and he hasted over to the huddled-together group around the shallowly breathing golden flier. "I suppose I shall ask again—what seek you all here?" he repeated.

"I would like to know, also," said another voice from the shade, and Kismet emerged, teeth and claws stained with fresh blood.

"We . . ." Howard leaned on Nike, meaning to prioritize Aurora over his own injury, but for how long would he hold up? "We were driven here, away from the light. We . . . no, she!" He pointed at Luxa, who hadn't moved an inch yet, her face cloaked in shadow.

Henry frowned. "Deliberately?"

"Impossible," mumbled Thanatos. "Solovet said that you were in Regalia."

Both Howard's and Luxa's heads jerked up. "She . . . what?" Howard stammered. "But that . . . Why would she . . . ?" He cut himself off, heaving from the pain.

Henry unclasped Howard's medical kit for Nike's back, fetching a large piece of gauze. "Now we are even," he said, pressing it into the wound as Howard hissed in pain.

"I was not aware that we were keeping count," Howard pressed out between clenched teeth. "But . . ." He turned to Kismet. "Why would Solovet claim such a thing?"

"I know not why, only that she lied," snarled Kismet. All heads turned to her, and Henry strained to wrap his exhausted mind around what this meant.

"What reason could she even have?" Nike asked what they all thought.

"There was something . . . in the way she said it," said Henry quietly, still pressing on Howard's injury before securing the bandage in the same manner as Howard had done for him. "I know not what, only that I had an odd feeling about it. This is why we came looking for you at all. A feeling . . . as though I could not trust it."

"Trust . . . ?" Henry released Howard, his head flying up, when he at last heard the weak yet stern voice of Luxa. "You speak of . . . trust?"

Henry slowly rose to his feet, as though he didn't know exactly what she meant. Yet before he could reply, she sprang up. "You must not speak of trust to me!"

Those words, laced with ice and bitterness, transformed her from defeated to aggressive; her fists clenched and her eyes narrowed to furious slits.

They all, even Howard, were taken aback. A silent moment went by, long enough for Henry to catch a closer look . . . at what had happened. At what he had done. Luxa was no longer staring through him; she was no longer speaking to the Death Rider—she hadn't since the river. He had achieved that. He had gotten her to finally look at his truth. She was looking, and then she yanked a finger up to point. "You have no right to speak to me of anything. To even be here."

Her words stabbed into his heart. Yet before he could speak, Kismet tugged at his arm, her fur standing on end. "More are coming. Mount up."

Everything that followed was a blur. Kismet ushered Henry toward Nike, and Howard pushed him onto her back as Thanatos lifted Aurora. Kismet stood poised in front of the entrance, and then the sound of battle rang in his ears once more.

I ought to help, thought Henry. Guilt seared into him, but he couldn't bring himself to move a single muscle. You have no right to speak to me of anything. To even be here. It replayed in his head again and again. Had he pushed her too hard? Was she right? Should he not . . . Then he found her with his gaze, still over by Aurora, and it was like the gears inside his head snapped back into place.

Before Nike could take flight, he slid off her back and vaulted over to Luxa, who persistently refused to release Aurora—now a limp weight on Thanatos' back. Almost colliding with Howard, Henry whipped around to position himself in front of her and help Kismet fend off the gnawers. They had apparently spotted or smelled them still alive in here, and they were now streaming in through the entrance in large numbers.

But . . . Henry lowered his sword again. They couldn't fight now. If the gnawers destroyed the torch, Howard and Luxa would be useless in battle. What they needed now was to run. The encompassing sounds, together with the torch Howard swung with his left hand, painted a clear image of the cave in Henry's head; he saw where to go—a second, smaller exit at the back.

"Out!" he called. "Mount up and escape!"

Luxa let out a sharp cry as Henry seized her and hoisted her up, pulling her away from Aurora to make way for Thanatos to take flight. "You cannot help her!" he screamed, yet he couldn't even be certain that she had caught his words amidst her own desperate cries.

Without further ado, Henry threw her over his shoulder and carried her back over to the waiting Nike. "We must leave. There is an exit in the back . . . We must reach water or a light source. Maybe further in," Henry called to her, hoping she'd understand his chipped speech as he did his best to mount up, with a still ferociously protesting Luxa in his arms.

"Whenever you're ready," said Nike, and Henry hissed in pain when Luxa struck his chest wound with her knees. She pounded his back, kicked, and screamed wildly, yet, even injured, Henry was much stronger than her. He tossed her face forward onto Nike's back, pressing her down. "Howard!" he called. "We must leave!"

As soon as he saw that Henry had Luxa, Howard retreated until he could mount Nike behind Henry, extinguishing the torch in the same second.

"I'll hold them back and catch up later!" called Kismet as she swept a rat off its feet with her tail, then dug her claws into the throat of another. "Save the queen!"

As soon as they were all set, Nike leaped into the air and joined Thanatos, who had been flying circles close to the ceiling, keeping Aurora out of the gnawers' reach. They dove into the back exit Henry had spotted earlier, leading away from the rats, away from the big cave . . . away from Regalia.

Despite her excellent abilities, Henry would have worried for Kismet if he didn't have to use all his energy to restrain Luxa, who had not ceased fighting him for a moment. Finally, the back of her fist struck his forehead so hard that he saw stars for a second, and a drop of blood ran down his cheek.

Henry kept her arms firmly against her body, thinking that if she did not cease making so much noise, any danger lurking here would easily find them. They could not afford such a risk—not now. So, he had no choice. He tugged his boomerang out of its sheath and struck the dull side over her head. Hard, but not too hard. Luxa let out a sharp, short cry, then grew limp in his arms. Henry stuffed his boomerang back into its place and wrapped his arms around her tightly . . . to ensure she wouldn't fall off Nike's back—at least that was what he told himself.

"Forgive me," he whispered softly, tightening his grip and burying his face in her hair. Had anyone asked what he was apologizing for, he wouldn't have had an answer.

***

Henry had no idea for how long they had flown when the fliers finally touched down on a sandy beach near a small lake. He had never been here yet, but he thought they must be close to the Firelands, judging by the few cooled lava streams they had passed earlier.

Luxa wriggled out of his grip and rushed over to Thanatos and Aurora as soon as they had landed, and only then did Henry realize she must have awoken sometime during the flight. He clenched his empty hands and wondered why she had let him hold her if she had been awake.

"We should be safe here, for now," said Thanatos, allowing Luxa to bury her face and hands in her bond's golden fur, who still lay unconscious on his back.

Howard nodded and dismounted, taking a few steps toward the lake, before pressing his hand to his stomach and hissing in pain. "We must . . . attend to injuries . . . and wait for . . . Kismet." Before he could even turn to the others, he collapsed on the beach.

"Attend to yourself first." Henry followed, grabbing him under the arms to help him stand. "I'm unharmed. Disinfect your injury and wrap it in a less haphazard manner." His gaze found Aurora, where Thanatos had lain her on the sand by the gently ebbing water, with Luxa curled against her side. "Then tend to her."

Henry quenched all of Howard's protests against tending to himself first by threatening to tie him down and do the medical check himself. "If the doctor is out of commission, we might all be doomed," he urged, and Howard begrudgingly obliged.

His cut was less severe than Henry's, and yet Henry knew that it had to hurt much more than Howard let on. Henry stood there, suddenly frightened by how he could imagine any pain exactly, just from looking at an injury.

Then Howard finally turned to Aurora. It was a heartbreaking scene, as he had to pry Luxa from her bond to examine her. This time, Luxa did not scream—she wept. Her body trembled with sobs as she staggered away from Aurora, nearly falling into Nike and Thanatos, who had remained close by, and finally collapsing on the sand and clutching it with her bloodied fingers.

It's all too much for her, thought Henry. The battle, Aurora's injury, the apparently deliberate trap, and him—his being here was most likely a significant part of the problem.

It was a rarity for him these days, but then and there, Henry was at a loss as to what to do. He craved nothing more than to comfort Luxa, but at the same time, an offer like this from him might make things worse.

So all he did was lean on the wall, as far away as the narrow beach permitted, and stare at her sunken, sobbing shape. She must feel like she is all alone now, he thought, battling against his own trembling. Aurora was badly hurt, Howard was busy, Solovet had lied about her whereabouts, and Gregor and the rest of her family were miles away in Regalia.

Without even properly meaning to, Henry pushed away from the wall. If anything went against his nature, it was to let others face fears and hardships alone. Even less those he loved as much as he did Luxa. Would she push him away? He wouldn't know for certain until he tried.

"Aurora will be alright." Luxa didn't react when Henry kneeled beside her. "Howard knows what he's doing." He gingerly placed a hand on her back. "You are not alone."

His words shattered the fragile air around Luxa—revived her. She whipped around to him, and for a second, he spotted something in her eyes that touched his soul. As though she silently pleaded with him to stay, to hold her, and to be her comfort, as he had always been. One moment passed, then Henry extended his hand for an invitation. Luxa eyed it, and, for a heartbeat, he thought she would actually do it—let him embrace her.

Then the moment shattered like the empty bubble it had been. Luxa leaped to her feet, and Henry flinched back at the seething fire that had overtaken her eyes. "You liar!"

He opened his mouth, but Luxa didn't leave him any time to speak.

"You!" She slapped his still-raised hand away. "You . . . get away from me!"

When he still didn't retreat—didn't even react—she screamed: "I said get away! I will not hear any more lies from your mouth! I will not hear!"

Howard, still over by Aurora, turned. "Luxa, he—"

"Lies!" She ignored Howard, yelling in Henry's face, who still sat in the sand, frozen. "Lies! Lies! They are all lies! Ever since you . . . you came back, I've heard nothing but lies!" She stepped closer, her fists clenched so rigidly that the sharp bones of her knuckles nearly pierced her papery skin. "You—" She heaved. "How dare you say . . . offer such things? You, who assumed a false identity to approach me, who deceived and feigned to be a gallant hero when in truth . . . What is the truth?!" she screamed. "Do you seek to deceive? To take advantage of me again, like you did last time?!"

"Luxa, you don't—"

"I told you to cease haunting me!" She cut Howard off again, trembling not from sobs but from rage. "Cease feeding me lies and manipulating my true friends into deceiving me. Cease! I won't hear! What hope you to accomplish through that?!" Her voice cracked. "Tell me, what plan you this time? Now that you have so meticulously worked on gaining my trust—our trust—what will you do?! Sell my life to the Bane, like you did with Gorger?!"

"Luxa!" yelled Howard, but to no avail.

"If only you hadn't returned!" she hissed. "It would have been better for us all had you stayed dead, Henry!"

Luxa whipped away, and Henry watched her storm off without truly seeing her. At the back of his head, he registered that Howard was yelling something at her now, but he didn't listen to his words. He couldn't look away from Luxa, even though looking at her was like holding his hand over a flame. He had done it enough as a child to know how much it hurt. But it didn't hurt enough. Still not enough. Her words were knives, needles, driving tears of rage into his eyes. Rage? Or desperation?

Henry didn't know. All he knew was that his chest ached worse than it had in days—as if she had sliced the healing cut open anew. Hadn't he felt Thanatos by his side at that moment, he might have stormed off in a random direction or screamed at the top of his lungs. Instead, he forced himself to fall back, burying his face in the fur of his bond so that he could at least imagine himself far away.

It would have been better for us all had you stayed dead, Henry!

Henry.

She had called him by name. For the first time in two years, she had called him by name, and it burned like salt in the wound her other words had reopened in his chest. She had no right, no ground to speak like this. No right to say, to assume . . . to even think it. Not after everything he had . . . No right. Over and over, it repeated in his head. No right.

He didn't look up anymore; he only pulled his legs to his chest and clutched them, laying there, heaving, mobilizing every bit of self-control he had to not fall into a frenzied fit of rage . . . or break into tears. Perhaps both.

***

"It is of no use. They will likely guard or seal the entrance if the trap is thorough. We must find another way back."

Henry had no idea how much time had passed when he found himself staring at the little group, assembled around a torch on the beach, and actually understanding what they were saying.

"I haven't traveled in this part of the Firelands much, but I should be able to find a route for you back home." Henry had stared at them for a few seconds before he realized the one speaking was . . . "Kismet!"

She turned to him, actually smiling. "Ah, he speaks at last. Come, come, join us. We must figure out what to do next."

But Henry remained where he was, supporting himself on his elbow and locking his gaze on Luxa. Sincerely, he hoped it scorched her.

Kismet followed his gaze and exchanged a glance with Howard, then made her way to him. "Howard says you have not been injured again. So, cease glaring as though you wish to roast us alive and come up. We need your strength and expertise."

Luxa snorted and leaped to her feet. She sat close by Aurora, for whom Howard had found a ledge to hang from. Howard threw her an irritated look and paused, but then Nike nudged him from the other side, and he rose to his feet. They followed Kismet over to Henry, and Howard kneeled beside him, placing a hand on his forehead. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Henry stared at him for a moment, then shoved his hand aside and gave a snort, not unlike Luxa's. "I feel quite sublime."

"Howard has done nothing to deserve your ire," mumbled Thanatos. "Have you not heard what he said?"

Henry shook his head. "My expertise, huh? What if, to that, I say you can go to hell?"

He shrieked when someone pulled him up by his collar. "Now, now. A pup will sulk at a time like this. Did you not tell me that you were not a pup?"

Henry glared at Kismet, who still held him up, until he spotted a number of fresh cuts tearing her pale fur. "You are the unwell one here."

"These?" she laughed. "Mere scratches. Of course he," she pulled on Howard's arm, "insisted on tending to them anyway. Pay me no mind, pup." She emphasized the word as though to mock him. "Pay mind to the problem at hand."

Henry bit down on his lip and allowed himself one more moment of glaring at the ground, then swallowed his still-seething rage. Kismet was right, and he didn't have it in himself to remain angry when surrounded by people who didn't deserve it. "Fine," he pressed out between clenched teeth.

Howard suddenly cleared his throat. "I . . ." He hesitated but continued when Nike nudged him again. "Luxa had no right to speak in that way. I wish to apologize in her name and assure that we others do not condone what she said."

"We hope her words did not actually change your mind about helping us," Nike mumbled.

Henry stared at them all silently, then blew out a breath. "I'm not that easily deterred," he scoffed. "I have no care."

He saw plainly that nobody believed him, but they bothered not to correct him either. A few moments passed silently, yet it was not a pleasant silence. "Well, what is your plan, then?" Henry finally asked, sitting cross-legged and shaking sand out of his collar. "What is it that you require my invaluable expertise for?"

The others exchanged looks. "Finding a way for her," Howard pointed at Luxa, "back to Regalia. Although this may be difficult, considering this seems to have been a deliberate trap. Kismet gathered that much from the attackers, yet she could not find out who set it."

"Well then, have you any idea what route we may take?" asked Henry.

"There is a way, although it will lead us close to what the Bane has chosen as his camp, according to Ripred," replied Kismet. "Have you ever heard of the Plain of Tartarus?"

Henry nodded.

"It lies further north, almost directly north of Regalia," Nike chimed in.

"It is a dangerous path, but perhaps an informative one," said Thanatos pensively

Henry understood immediately. "You think we might spy on them?"

"If . . . an opportunity presents itself."

One final moment passed silently, then Henry finally gave them all, who had assembled around him, a smile. Luxa, he didn't even spare a glance. "What wait we for, then?"