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Chapter Text

The tunnel had gone on for what felt like an eternity. The fliers had long since taken to riding on the backs of the gnawers. And the gnawers had long since stopped grumbling about the arrangement. The little pitter patter of the crawlers feet on damp stone had become so familiar as to be nonexistent. Their group, some two hundred in number, stretched far behind the front. And at that front, Queen Luxa of Regalia held her torch up high as she and the gnawer Lapblood lead their troop.

Water dripped down, hissing as it struck the torch and Luxa forced herself not to look at at the tunnel ceiling. The agreement that they were probably beneath some lake or river had settled a brief curiosity, but left an uncomfortable anxiety in its wake. Luxa was reminded horribly of the earthquake that had nearly taken Hazard and her friends from her some two years back. She had thought she’d left those raging waters behind her, but the memories whispered to her every time a drop landed on her..

Luxa did not wish to show her fear. She did her best to mask the feeling, but she was sure that Lapblood could smell her anxiety. The rat glanced at her on occasion, but had the good sense not to speak it out loud. Lapblood might even be feeling similarly. Luxa didn’t mind. If there was a rat she could trust, Lapblood was a strong candidate. Lapblood lead the rats fairly and well.

This walk, however, was neither well nor fair. Yet it continued. She forced herself to ignore the memories of the Swag and draw some comfort that the water dripping on them was not the foul smelling liquid from their quest during The Prophecy of Gray. Still, it was little comfort when she was soaked through to the bone and shivering in the coolness of the tunnel.

While her thoughts pranced around those circumstances, in vain attempts at combating her worry, the path began to curve upward. The dripping ceased, and she sensed a general calming in those directly behind her. She held in a sigh, even as a chorus of them reached her ears.

“About time,” Lapblood said.

Luxa nodded, “Yes. That tunnel was too narrow. I will send some scout to check the area for other ways through.”

“I’ll send some, too. Cover more ground.”

“All we need is a cavern to set up camp in,” Luxa said.

Almost as if the cavern had been waiting for her words, the tunnel ceiling rose sharply up and opened out into a large cavern. The ground sloped up briefly and then flattened out.

The troop immediately fanned out and set about getting camp prepared. Luxa stopped to help Aurora off the back of a gnawer who stretched before his attention was grabbed by Lapblood. Luxa watched her round up several rats and begin to brief them on their scouting mission. All around her, humans were helping fliers off the backs of gnawers. Most were instantly distant, but some remained close to chat, to share in the misery of the journey, or be thanked by the bonded pair for carrying the flier. The crawlers, mostly ignored by the warmbloods, fanned out to set down heavy packs and collapse to rest. Not all of the bugs had Temp’s legendary stamina.

“It is nice to stretch my wings again,” Aurora said.

Luxa smiled and placed a hand on her bond’s golden fur, “I am happy you are free to spread them again. We are close. I can feel it.”

Aurora bobbed her head is agreement. There was a sense of anticipation between them. Excitement. Worry. Foreboding. If the reports were true, they were very close to something she never allowed herself to hold out hope for. Something few in the underland would ever hope for, let alone experience. That someone lost, may yet be found.

But until that moment arrived, they must wait. Through no small amount of experience, Luxa had come to posses a fair amount of patience. That, these last several days, had been a great mercy. Their recorded fourteen days of travel through the uncharted lands, now newly charted by their retinue of cartographers, had left them with much disappointment. Earlier in her life, Luxa may have lost her temper several times over at their lack of findings.

When the crawler Yick, who had volunteered to serve as Luxa’s personal runner for this expedition, suddenly snapped to attention in the direction of a nearby tunnel, Luxa twisted around to face it. Her sword was out in a flash. Aurora fluttered her wings. Several gnawers nearby rushed to stand beside her. That, she thought, was something she would never get used to.

“I go off to procure what may be the most legendary alliance in the history of the Underland, and my bond draws her sword on me after only two months of being parted,” A familiar voice echoed out at her, followed by the reveal a familiar ratty grin set into a face with intersected X shaped scars over the eye.

Luxa huffed as her sword arm relaxed. Her allies slunk back and returned to what they had been doing.

“Perhaps if you did not stalk my perimeter,” She said.

“Perhaps,” Ripred moved out of the tunnel, “And what a perimeter it is. Bring all of Regalia did you?”

“And then some,” Luxa said.

“Ah how I’ve missed that sarcasm. The lip. All I’ve had for months is tortured silence and surly looks.”

Luxa’s chest tightened and her heartbeat quickened. She fought to keep her face straight, but Ripred looked her in the eyes. He nodded.

“It’s him.”

Luxa allowed a hand to cover her mouth. Aurora fluttered to her wide and swapped a wing around her.

“Is he well?” The bat asked.

“Depends on your definition of well,” Ripred said as his nose began to twitch around a pile of bags nearby. He took a moment to pick one out and upturn the content into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and stretched out comfortably beside the pile. A few crawlers who had been about to cross over to set some packs down changed their path in favor of a space with less Ripred in it.

“He’s comatose most of the time. They tell me he has nightmares, but I haven’t seen them. He’s never been asleep long enough to really have one, I think. But he definitely wakes up screaming. He’s physically able, if that counts for anything.”

Luxa frowned, deflating a little. She had worried ceaselessly whether he would be physically or mentally well. But her hopes had been swelled. She had spent too much time with Vikus.

“Can we see him?” Aurora asked. Ripred’s tongue flicked out to catch some crumbs from his whiskers. He took a moment to deliberately choose a second bag before opening it up to sort through the contents.

“Yes, I think they’ll let you in. If you’re with me. The presence of a small army may put a damper on first impressions, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Ripred said, finding something worth his time in the bag and popping it into his mouth.

Luxa nodded and turned to Yick, who was still close by.

“Find Lapblood. Tell her she is in full command until my return. And tell her not to worry. That we shall not begin negotiations without her. Our absence is to deal with a private matter we have discussed.”

“Tell her, I will, Tell her,” Yick said and rushed off. Luxa waved down a couple of flier human teams who loosening up in the air and gave them scouting orders. When they took off again, she turned back to see Ripred smirking.

“Leaving a gnawer in charge? Finally admitting our superior intellect?”

“Admitting Lapblood is the best among your lot,” Luxa gestured for him to lead the way. Ripred sighed, but heaved himself up.

“So pushy.”

Luxa rolled her eyes and watched Ripred stretch for several seconds. He offered his back to Aurora, “It’s tight. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Luxa could not help but smile at the display. Ripred was an insufferable lout, but his kindness showed in many cases. Through his bond to Luxa, so too were he and Aurora bonded. Luxa was happy he felt the same. Aurora thanked him and settled onto his back.

The tunnel they started moving though was tight enough that she began to feel boxed in after only a few minutes of walking. Ahead, Aurora’s fur touched the ceiling and squished down into her back. Ripred crawled closer to the ground to avoid crushing the bat. Luxa felt a pang of sympathy for them both. If she felt boxed in, they must be feeling completely vulnerable.

But, suddenly, Ripred stood up normal and Luxa was surprised when she stepped out into and abruptly larger cavern. It was all lit rather well with a series of torches. Ripred let out a sigh.

“And that is the only way in from this direction. An incredible tactical advantage. Endlessly annoying.”

“Where is it?”

Ripred pointed to their right.

“There’s a series of tunnels that lead to other caverns. We’re going down one that will open on the outskirts.”

They walked along, and the cavern was wide enough for Aurora to properly take flight. Luxa watched her for some time, while she wrestled with her surfacing worries. They were so close. And now she was feeling trepidacious. How was she going to react? She had very nearly lost her nerve entirely upon seeing him bedridden and on death’s door only two years ago. How would she react now that he had returned from beyond that door?

Thankfully, she did not have the time to dwell on those thoughts. The path they walked had become a soft incline. She could see firelight flickering from over the edge. Torches.

When they crested the incline, Luxa couldn’t help being taken aback by the city that sprawled out below them. The cavern was large, larger perhaps than Regalia, and shaped sort of like the inside of a basket. It was longer than it was wide, going so far so that she could not see the other end. But the city continued on the whole way. Lining the cavern walls were ledges wide enough to congregate one, with tunnels lined up along each ledge.

“Petras. A city built by the combined efforts of human masons and diggers, planned extensively by gnawers and fliers,” Ripred allowed her to take a moment, “And yes, the tunnels extend the city further. With the digger’s help, the growth of the city wasn’t confined to the caverns. They could build and sculpt the very stone walls themselves.”

“We did the same for much of Regalia,” Said Luxa, “And for portions of the Fount.”

“Sure, but it took a long, long time. They’ve added a whole new neighborhood this month,”

Luxa was torn between her desire to move on and the desire to stare out at the city. And the inhabitants.

Humans walking along ledges greeted gnawers walking opposite them. A small rat got a lift from a flier to a lower ledge. Several crawlers carried baskets of grains down a main street teeming with life. On the ledge below them, waiting at the bottom of a stone ramp, she heard voices and looked down to find two humans saying goodbye to a gnawer. The gnawer glanced up and smiled.

“Ripred! You brought company!” The gnawer made her way up the ramp at a canter.

Luxa’s arm twitched instinctively toward the sword at her hip. She cursed the action and took a deep breath. A lifetime of war left much to be adjusted in times of peace.

“I did. These are my bonds, the ones I mentioned to you,” Ripred said.

Luxa looked at Ripred in surprise. The rat’s voice had been soft. Kind, even. In ways he reserved for very few. Who was this gnawer to bring out such tender words from her cranky bond.

“I am Calliope. I am glad we get to meet. Ripred speaks highly of you both.”

Luxa raised an eyebrow, “He does?”

“I’ve deemed you adequate in combat, and passing in diplomacy,” Ripred shrugged.

“Such is high praise from he,” Aurora said with amusement. She and Calliope shared a quick laugh. Luxa found Calliope’s demeanor… oddly comforting. She was completely relaxed and her tones were conversational in ways Luxa had never encountered in a gnawer before.

“I am here to escort you down to the city, and act as your guide. After we visit your friend. Saxon bid me bring you to him,” Calliope said, stretching, “If that is okay.”

Luxa nodded and allowed Calliope to take the lead. Calliope lead them through some less frequented roads, but curious faces turned towards them anyway. And word spread that there were new arrivals. And so Calliope enlisted the help of a few gnawers heading toward the hospital to help with crowd control. While they and Calliope cleared a path, Ripred laughed.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

Luxa shook her head.

“The humans and gnawers have not been at each others troats for centuries here. There is no ill will. No grudges spanning generations. It is far from perfect of course. They have their problems, to be sure. But compared to out part of the world…”

“I am still comprehending the existence of this place,” Aurora said, “Even standing amidst the city, I can scarcely believe it is real,” Luxa agreed. But the buildings were real. And the tunnel they turned down was real. And as they passed through it and then into a spacious cavern, the dread returned. Doctors moved about here, returning thoughts of their destination to the front of her mind.

Finally, Calliope stopped them and spoke with a doctor. The doctor looked relieved and gave Luxa a smile before pointing them in the direction of the room.

And then they were standing just outside of the entryway. Luxa couldn’t breath now, knowing what was inside. She could feel Aurora tense beside her. Her bond was short of breath as well. In their experience, something unprecedented was about to occur.

“Go on,” Ripred nudged Luxa gently, “Its easier not to think about it.”

“Right,” Said Luxa. And she stepped into the room.

The room was lit with a slow-burning torch in the corner. It was sparsely furnished, with a carved stone table in the center and a large bed set into a back corner. And lying on that bed was a large form. A pile of black fur. The pile shifted and Luxa felt the knot in her throat strangle her.

Looking at her, with a dull expression of misery and sorrow, was Ares.

Chapter Text

Ares locked eyes with Luxa for a moment. His eyes grew wide. A panic seemed to overtake him as he pushed himself up and against the wall. Ripred sighed.

“Begone, specter! Haunt me no more, foul visions,” Ares whispered hoarsely. Luxa could have cried. Her friend was cowering away from her, pushing as close as possible into the corner and still trying to get farther away. Aurora set a claw upon Luxa’s shoulder and she felt the flier tremble. They were of one mind about Ares. Ripred, though, merely seemed annoyed.

“That’s enough,” Ripred said and snapped his tail with a crack. Ares turned his gaze on the rat and bared his teeth, “They are no more ghosts than I am. And I’ve proven myself in that respect, haven’t I?”

Ares seemed to relax, though his eyes glazed over. He deflated back into a pile of fur, not even bothering to return to a more comfortable position. If you could call the position he was in before comfortable.

“I neglected to mention that I spent the better part of a week convincing him I wasn’t some ghost here to punish him. Of course, he’s improved a lot since then…” Ripred trailed off. Luxa frowned at Ripred. Ripred met her gaze.

“This is an improvement?” Luxa asked. She felt Aurora bristle at the word and was glad she wasn’t alone in that. She wouldn’t believe it. Sure Ares had been quiet and sullen before, and for good reason. But he had been getting better. But she had to remind herself; That had been two years ago. And before whatever had happened to him after the battle.

“Yes. And it was good he was the way he was, trust me. I can count the number of hours I’ve seen him lucid on one claw, the whole time I’ve been here, and it’s a wonder he hasn’t driven himself mad. Your friend here is unstable at best, and insane at worst,” Ripred met Luxa’s gaze now.

“You lie,” Luxa said. She had intended it to be defiant. But the words sounded hollow and childish to her ears. They must have been so, for Ripred only shook his head. So she changed tactics, “What all have you told him?”

“The important stuff. End of the war. That peace remains, though I left out some nastier bits. Your reign. How Gregor fares. The works.”

At the sound of Gregor’s name, Ares stirred and began to shake. His face twisted between anger and torment.

Ripred grimaced, “Sorry, Ares. That’s my bad,” He gave Luxa a significant look.

“Don’t mention that name. It sends him into fits,” Ripred said as Ares continued to shake. Aurora made a motion forward, but held back. Luxa wanted to touch Ares as well. To assure him everything was okay.

But it isn’t, she thought. Everything wasn’t okay. Certainly not for him. And it broke her heart to think about how he must feel. All she could do was watch him shake and twitch as whatever darkness in his mind attacked him.

“Take heart. He's not so far gone that he's hopeless,” Ripred turned and ushered them out of the room. Luxa wanted to protest, but her voice caught. She allowed herself to be lead into the hall.

“He’ll sulk for a while now. No point in being around. Besides, we have a council to attend, your highness. Dare I say they are growing bored of Vikus and his ambassadors,” Ripred said. Luxa gnashed her teeth thinking.

“Someone should stay with him anyway.” She said finally.

“I could remain with him, if that would ease your mind,” Calliope said. Luxa shook her head. Ripred grumbled.

“I can hardly see why-”

“I will stay,” Aurora cut Ripred off. Luxa caught her gaze and nodded. That they would rather be at one another’s side was left unsaid. It always was. But right now, they were needed apart.

The exchange was a comfortable reminder that even if they now shared a new bond with Ripred, the two of them had something unique. And that alone was enough to steel her heart for the next step she had to take.

“Let us go, then. I am eager to learn what I can about your people, Calliope.”

Calliope obliged by leading them back out into the main cavern. They walked up an incline to the level above and then up a second incline. The cavern slanted inward up here, as if something large was pressed into the stone to shape it into a semi-circle. Balconies lined three stories of the shape, looking down into a courtyard with a fountain.

“This city is technically a city for mammals, and so the heads of state are kept to the humans, the gnawers, the diggers, and the fliers. But representatives of other species are allowed to attend meetings. We have an embassies for the others.”

"I saw some crawlers moving around the city," Said Luxa."

"Some cold-bloods have living spaces in the city. Crawlers and buzzers mostly."

“Buzzers?” Luxa asked. Calliope cocked her head at Luxa.

“We don’t have their kind in our neck of the woods,” Ripred said, “They look something like this,” Ripred dipped the tip of his tail into an inkwell sitting next to someone and drew a rough sketch on the ground. The creature had a long cylinder shaped body and two thin sets of wings.

“Like if a crawler and a flier got real friendly,” Ripred said. Luxa made a face, but Calliope laughed.

Calliope lead them through a wide arch at the center and into a large entrance hall. The size was equal to, if not larger than, the High Hall, and similarly built so that several stories up there was a large entrance for any flier to have ease of access. The hall was filled with chattering individuals. Calliope lead them through the crowd and up a set of stairs leading up and further into the building.

Calliope stopped outside of a room and turned to face them, “This is the council room. You have an hour before it begins.”

“Are you not to join in the proceedings?” Asked Luxa.

“I am not a delegate. Or a member of any committee. I only offer my aid to Saxon and the other heads of state,” Calliope gave a long stretch, “I am not strictly allowed inside. But I prefer it out here. Never gets as loud out here as it does in there.”

“I’ll go and get Lapblood,” Ripred said, “Calliope, dear, would you be so kind as you arrange for an escort to meet us at the mouth of that wretchedly tight tunnel?”

“Anything for you, Ripred,” Calliope turned to do so, disappearing around a corner. Luxa raised an eyebrow at Ripred. Ripred shrugged.

“Crazy that I would be nice to those who are so nice to me. You should try it sometime.”

“And deny you your sport of insulting me?” Luxa smirked, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ripred gave her a half-hearted swipe of his tail as he made to leave. Luxa watched him disappear. She turned to the entryway of the council room, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

Luxa was taken aback by the ornate room. Polished stone slabs shaped into a variety of seating positions sat in a full circle around a large dais of silvery granite flecked with black. A rostrum rose at the center of one half of the dais. The dais was down a few feet, at the center of the pit-like room, with shallow steps leading down to the bottom where bare stone extended for several feet before it reached the dais. All along the walls were decorative columns and wall sconces with oil lamps hanging from them.

A lot of work went into making this room impressive. By Regalian standards, this place was a masterwork of masonry. It wasn’t entirely practical, as there was no open ceiling for easy access by fliers, and there was a lot of unused space along the walls, but it was beautiful.

She allowed herself to revel in it for all of a minute before she reigned herself in. Yes, the room was pretty, but she had a job to do now. She looked around the room, at the huddled groups of councilors. She spotted Vikus and the dozen or so Regalian ambassadors. As she approached, one of them tapped Vikus, who’s face lit up as it landed on her.

The sight of him filled her with a range of emotion. Relief at a familiar face. Grief at his general condition. Unease because of what his presence here meant. But his eyes were alight with happiness at seeing her, even if only half of his face was able to really smile. He was, overall, recovering well. Luxa had her opinions that his recovery had taken half as long for every day it became more obvious the peace between the humans and rats would last.

“It brings me great joy to see you here,” Vikus said. His speech was affected, but clear.

She gave him a quick hug and sat down to catch him up on her journey. And he caught her up on their talks with the Petra’s government. Talks of trade were going well, as well as plans to have ambassadors selected to return to Regalia when time allowed.

“Is it not wonderful, Luxa,” Vikus said as the chamber began to fill with all manor of species, “It is like looking into what our future was always meant to arrive at. A world of cooperation. Of friendship.”

Luxa only smiled. Truth be told, the whole idea still made her uncomfortable. She would never admit as much out loud to anyone but Aurora, but there were questions she often asked herself while she turned in bed. Despite the proof of it right here, she had a hard time believing that her part of the Underland could ever look like this.

Her thoughts turned to Aurora. And of Ares. Was he still there, just laying in a heap?

“Did you see him?” Luxa said. Vikus nodded, his smile dimming.

“Yes,” He said, fingers twisting the top of his cane, “He spoke to me only the first time. Now it is only silence for me. Luxa, I believe he-”

Vikus stopped as the gathering began to settle down. A gnawer was circling atop the dais. He looked quite old to Luxa. Older than Ripred, surely. His grey and white fur seemed stiff in some placed. Luxa looked around for Ripred and Lapblood. She found them lounging in seats obviously designed for their comfort nearby. Ripred gave her a significant look.

Before the gnawer could speak, two creatures entered the room. Luxa frowned, having never seen this species before. Buzzers? But not, they did not fit Ripred’s descriptions.

These two were large. As large as some of the bigger gnawers, though they had more in common with crawlers. Their backs were hard, and colored glossy black with hypnotizing patterns of shapes and colors unique to each, which seemed to change and vanish as they moved. One of them had a large protrusion from the top of their head which extended ahead of them and ended in a sharp, forked tip. The other had nothing like that, but boasted more color on the carapace and face. That one shifted its back, revealing wings much like a crawlers.

Luxa looked over at Ripred, who was watching the two with some intensity.

“Thank you, Tala and Goro, for agreeing to such a long journey on such short notice. Your distaste for such interruptions is known, but allow me to assure you; You will not want to miss today’s proceedings.”

“Your kind words soothe my weary limbs, Saxon. Though my brother is rather undone by your request,” This one’s voice was smooth and clear.

“Tala, you need not speak for me,” This one’s voice was darker and more gruff.

“One of us must. You are too quiet, Goro,” Said Tala.

“Goro bristled and turned to Saxon, “Apologies for our rudeness. Your kindness is soothing. My family was having a gathering. They will understand, as they always do, though I admit I am feeling uprooted by this summons.”

“Your explanation is noted and your willingness to attend us is as well. I assure you, your visit will not disappoint.”

Goro shuffled, but then bowed the front half of his body forward. They took their seats and Saxon took a moment to confer quietly with another gnawer near to the dais. Vikus leaned closer to her, “They call them rushers. They rarely visit, this is the first time I have laid eyes on them, but I have been told they are a nomadic species and their lands cover a wide expanse of the caverns south of here.”

Saxon reared up and placed his front paws on the rostrum.

“Members of the court. If anyone has any pressing matters, please feel free to field them in your typical order,” Saxon waited. He glanced around and when nobody spoke, he smiled.

“It seems that an incredible shift in worldview is not all a bad thing. It is nice and quiet here for once. Right then," Saxon pushed off of the rostrum and circled around the dais again, “Some weeks ago, we were faced with the unprecedented reality of an entirely separate civilization reaching out to us. Since then we have received guests from these peoples. And now host their leaders among us. Let them rise.”

Luxa stood up and a dull drone of muttering erupted throughout the room. Ripred rose and casually moved over to her.

“It is just the two of you?”

“The flier, Aurora, chose to remain with the flier Ares, Saxon. We'll catch her up later.” Ripred said, "And my second hand, Lapblood, sits on the council with us today as well," Ripred flicked his tail in her direction. Saxon acknowledged Lapblood with a nod and turned back to Ripred.

“We have spoken to you Ripred, though you have withheld much while waiting for Regalian queen.On that, I am happy to finally meet you, Queen Luxa.”

Luxa took a breath and made sure to keep her face impassive.

“And I you, Governor Saxon.”

“It is a worry, however, to see you arrive with a host fit for battle so near to Petras.”

“That is my fault, Saxon,” Vikus raised a hand, “I had not included in my last letter that arrangements of her arrival. When I sent it, I was unaware of how accepting you would be.”

“Do not soften my decisions, Vikus. I would have brought such a host regardless of the circumstance. It is the nature of the Underland to present danger around every corner.”

Saxon gave a chuckle at that, “A strong Queen leads by example, an ideal you hold close to heart I see. It is a small matter, and one that can only be expected. We are all simultaneously on edge and excited to see where this new relationship between our civilizations will bring us.”

“Now please, Saxon continued and he moved off of the dais, “I would request you two take the floor. Field some questions, receive some in return. We have a long meeting ahead of us.”

The crowd began to speak quietly in their groups. Luxa had the distinct impression of hostility from a few of them, by the looks she was getting. Ripred bumped her, “Ready for this?”

“Do you need to ask?”

Luxa was starting to devise answers to some obvious questions, trying to work out the best ways to answer with as little as possibly while also opening pathways to get as much from her own questions as possible. This was a game she had played on a smaller scale for the last two years. Now, in this odd place, she would need every second of that experience. She felt eyes upon her, and found Tala watching her carefully while her brother spoke to a flier nearby.

She turned to Ripred, who seemed unbothered by the scene, and gestured for him to go ahead of her, “Lead the way.”

“You always require I be the first in harm’s way.”

“It takes courage to always lead the way.”

“I’ve always felt that it took an incredible amount of stupidity to always be on the front line,” Ripred said, but fell into step slightly ahead of her.

“Courage is the ability to wield stupidity,” Luxa gave the words some flourish. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Ripred scoffed, and Luxa could practically hear his eyes roll.

“Sounds like something Gregor would say.”

Luxa grinned.

Chapter Text

“Courage,” Said Gregor, “Is the ability to wield stupidity.”

Gregor was staring down into a ditch. His target was a volleyball that had gone over the fence and into sed ditch. The ball was several yard below and Gregor was already plotting his course down.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re stupid,” Said Larry. Gregor grinned.

“Come on,” Angelina was a little more outspoken against Gregor’s plan, “We can just get another one!” Gregor made sure the rope was secured around his waist, carefully avoiding sensitive places. The last thing he wanted right now was an accidental unvailing of old wounds. That was always the last thing he wanted. He really needed to get a new ‘last thing he wanted’.

“We’re up a point on the third set, Angie. If we score next, then we win. This ball’s lucky!” He finished tying the rope and double checked the other end, tied to a fence pole. He gave Angie a thumbs up, “Just keep an eye on that post. Make sure it doesn’t take a knife and cut my knot.”

Angelina made a noise that Gregor took to mean something like ‘stop joking’ or ‘that isn’t funny’ or ‘thanks Gregor for getting our lucky ball back’. He chose to believe it was the third one.

Gregor began his descent, carefully testing his footing at each step of the way. Above him, two dozen faces watched him with a mixture of curiosity and worry. But he was more focused on his obstacles. The ditch, in truth, was something more like a ravine. It was the remnants of some sort of construction project, long since abandoned and left to crumble until enough citizens complained about it. But it was deep. And the descent included iron rebars jutting out at twisting angles and glass-covered handholds to go along with the thorny shrubs and sharp rocks.

Gregor was careful; He didn’t want today to take a tragic turn. Naturally, though, his foot slipped as some rocks crumbled beneath it. Angie cried out from above, and Gregor quickly reestablished his foot on a more secure looking edged. He breathed out in relief and continued down. What would he mom say if she could see him, he wondered. Wouldn’t be the most dangerous situation she’d seen him in. Well. knew about, anyway.

Gregor reached the bottom and took a moment to untie the rope. He looked up above at the people watching him and waved. He could see several of them shaking their heads, but he just smiled as he turned away to find the ball.

It was there waiting for him, nestled between a busted cinderblock and a rusting barrel. He grabbed it and gave it a toss for good measure. It was still whole. He turned to hold it up and show the others, but he’d gone down into a depression he hadn’t seen from above. He was hidden behind some large concrete tubes. He went to leave when some movement caught his attention. A movement he could only describe as scurrying.

It wasn’t hard to notice the little rat poking around on an old tire. It straightened up when it realized it had been noticed and looked at Gregor. Gregor’s jaw tightened. The rat wasn’t moving.

“So what? Ripred couldn’t send a note or something?” Gregor asked. The rat returned to all fours and turned away, sniffing at a stain on the tire. Gregor felt dumb for that. Of course the thing wasn’t going to understand him. It probably wasn’t here for anything like that. The ones who were keeping an eye on him stayed out of his sight. At least, they thought they did. So this little guy was probably just another rat in New York City.

And so it was. Gregor shifted his weight and the sound startled the rat. It scurried away without a second glance. Gregor frowned, watching it go. They usually weren’t so jumpy. Whatever.

“Wish some of the rats down there would have acted like that,” He mumbled. The joke fell flat, even if it was just for him. Memories of pained rat faces, blood splattering across his field of vision as they died, flashed into Gregor’s mind. Sapient creatures with friends and families. He grimaced, biting down hard on his cheek. The pain helped to drive the thoughts off, and he took a long shaky breath. Ripred’s advice came to him in moment like this, and he let those memories flow.

“It’s no use, thinking about them. It isn’t easy. The thoughts will intrude on you often. It’s better to set aside a specific time for them. Someplace private, where you won’t be bothered and you can process them,” Ripred rattled the words off quickly. Time was short, but he put some significance into his next words, “The things we see, they don’t disappear. Ever.”

“Great. So what? I’m just gonna have these thoughts all the time?” Gregor said.

“For a while, yes. But time will dull their sharpness and clarity. You’ll grow accustomed to them, but the memories don’t go away. Not entirely.”

“You’re making me feel so much better,” Gregor said and rolled his eyes. His chest felt tight, and not because of the nasty wound still healing there. The nightmares were already so bad. And now…

“How long did it take you to get used to them?”

“Several years,” Ripred said evenly. He caught Gregor’s gaze. Gregor grinned.

“Just another obstacle.”

“That’s right,” Ripred said, “And you’ve overcome far worse.”

Gregor nodded and Ripred kept going.

“Now, speaking of those memories and what you’ll be doing in them, your rager sense isn’t just going to go away…”

The rat returned to his usual self, grilling Gregor on the consequences of losing control and spouting off advice about how to control his abilities. Gregor focused in, having been extremely worried about just this subject.

Gregor was calm before the memory was finished. He grinned.

“There are a few good things in life, really. Don’t pretend like one isn’t happening. Right?” He said and took a deep breath.

It was time to win a volleyball game.

********

Gregor threw back the water bottle and swallowed what was left in two large gulps. He growled as he shoved the bottle into his jacket pocket with his hand. The wind had picked up and had long since overstayed its welcome after it helped cool them down from the game.

“That was… a really good game,” Said Larry.

“We were made it pretty close,” Said Angie.

The three of them were walking down the sidewalk, looking for a place to sit down and eat some late lunch before heading home. Gregor wasn’t necessarily upset over losing the game, but the settling sense of disappointment at losing such a close game was inevitable. What was it Benjamin Franklin had said? The only things certain in life were death, taxes, and frustration at losing a close game. Probably not.

“Back and forth, point and then tie, point and then tie,” Larry said and flipped through the little list of places to eat he kept on him.

“We’ll get ‘em next time,” Said Angie, “For sure, we’ll get em.”

Gregor grinned. When his dad had recommended he find something athletic to do, he couldn’t have imagined he’d be expressing disappointment about a lost sports game with the two least athletic people he knew. They were more affected by it than he was, even. Angie was practicing jumps to his left and Larry was sulking to his right. Time to change subjects.

“Hey Angie, wasn’t your play coming up sometime?” Gregor said. That was all it took.

Angelina had them sitting at a pizza join on the corner and helping her with line before five minutes had passed. While he took a break and let Larry take over, he had to applaud himself for the move. Seeing his two friends so worked up over casual volleyball was amusing and endearing, but this was more comfortable. Angie was in her element and Larry was already in a better mood.

He savored the pizza while he could before he was pulled back into lines. He happily engaged.

They stayed there for a couple of hours. Larry’s mom called at some point and he said he had to get home for the night. They called it a day after that. Gregor paid for the food and headed for home. As the sun was dropping below the city skyline, he reached the apartment building his family called home.

Not for much longer, though. He smiled at the reminder. Specifically at the ratty old couch sitting outside by the complex dumpster. It had served them well for so long, but their new place was fully furnished and ready to go. All that was left was for him and dad to finish cleaning this place and they would be out.

He climbed the stairs, noting that this was something he would definitely not miss about this place, and up to his floor. He walked over to the open door to the apartment in time to catch his dad and Mrs. Cormaci coming out with an armchair. Gregor quickly moved to take Mrs. Cormaci’s place. She denied him in words only as she stepped aside.

“Oh come now, I could have made it the length of the hall. I’m not incapable,” She said.

“Of course not, Mrs. Cormaci. You’re invaluable,” Gregor said, hefting the chair to carry it more comfortably, “We’re saving you for the really tough stuff.”

Mrs. Cormaci huffed and bustled back into the apartment. Gregor chuckled.

“How was the game today?” His dad asked as they took a breather halfway down the stairs.

“Went alright. We lost, but it was tied right up to the end,” Gregor said.

“Good, good,” His dad seemed distracted. Gregor watched him carefully. He’d been doing really well since they had cut ties with the Underland. But on some really bad days, his tremors returned. But he wasn’t shaking right now. His eyes weren't clouded over, just absent.”

“I should come down and watch you guys sometime.”

“That would mean a lot,” Gregor said.

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

The two of them finished the trek downstairs and out to the dumpster. They set the chair down next to the couch.

“You alright dad?”

His dad mulled on it for a moment. Gregor felt a pang of worry move through him. This was definitely out of the ordinary.

“Gregor. Are you sending messages to our neighbors?”

Gregor furrowed his brow. That was code for talking to the Underlanders. Only they hadn’t talked like that since before the war. Why would he be bringing it up now? Maybe something was wrong with him, after all.

“No, dad. I haven’t been in contact with any of them.”

“Promise?” His dad was leveling with him. He wasn’t mad or upset. Just determined to get an answer. Gregor nodded.

“Promise,” He said. His dad looked relieved,” Why?”

“I happened to be passing by the laundry room,” His dad said, and reached into his pocket. Gregor felt his eyes grow wide. There was a pain in his lungs. In his dad’s hand was an Unerland scroll, “I found this.”

“What…”

Gregor felt dizzy. Had that rat from earlier been more than just a rat after all? That little sheet of rolled parchment was like a gravity well. He wanted to take it. He needed it. He felt like he might suffocate if he didn’t.

But why? He was past it. He had moved on from all of that, right? Of course he had… but there was always that pull… on dark nights. And when he drifted off into daydreams sometimes, he returned there. More than once he’d had to laugh off a strange expression someone had noticed.

“I can throw it away, you know,” Said his dad, “If you want me to.”

“No!” Gregor said and snatched it from his dad.

His dad let go readily. Gregor muttered an apology and looked around. They were alone, but he wouldn’t open the message here.

“Son,” His dad smiled at him, “Just keep me in the loop alright? No surprise adventures.”

“Yeah dad. I’ll let you know what it says.”

They went back upstairs, Gregor feeling like he’d just been sucker punched. He tried to act natural, but was unable to totally ignore the lump in his back pocket. Mrs. Cormaci kept shooting him looks that told him he was doing a poor job of remaining focused.

“Head in the clouds, the both of you,” She said, “Lucky I’m here. You two would have ended up cleaning someone else’s apartment.”

Gregor smiled, and wondered if she had known what she was saying using that turn of phrase. She was right, of course, but also so wrong. Gregor’s head was nowhere near the clouds. He realized with a sudden pang that, after tonight, she wouldn’t be just down the hall anymore. Besides being the single greatest reason his family had managed to get by during their darkest hours, she was the only person outside of the family who knew their secret.

“You’ll still be helping me on Saturdays, won’t you?” Mrs. Cormaci said as they bagged up the last of the trash. Gregor grinned.

“You really always know just what to say,” He said, “You know that?”

“Of course I do. It’s all in my cards, dear boy,” Mrs. Cormaci gave him a mischievous look, and he wondered if maybe he would let her do his tarot reading sometime. But for now he had something else he needed to get to. And in no time at all, the three of them were standing at the entrance to the complex. Despite how anxious he was to get to the house, he was also overcome with the sense that a chapter of his life was ending. And yet... the thing in his pocket was a strange tie to this place. And Mrs. Cormaci, too, he supposed. The whole scenario made his head spin.

They each gave Mrs. Cormaci a hug, and after she extracted a promise from Gregor to be there that Saturday, she went back inside. Gregor’s dad sighed as he looked up at the building one last time. Gregor’s eyes lingered on the bottom floor. And then the two of the turned away and hailed a cab. Home wasn’t far away.

Chapter Text

Gregor played nice for a few hours after that. He watched tv with Boots, who put on an enthusiastic performance alongside the other cartoon characters when they sang. And talked nicely over Dinner. He caught his dad’s gaze on him once or twice, but the man didn’t say anything to give away their secret. It did make him feel a little bad, though. Seeing his mom happier than he could remember seeing her in a long time. The whole family, even Grandma, in a house together and eating dinner. It was picturesque.

But dinner couldn’t have ended soon enough. As soon as he had finished helping mom with the dishes, he kissed her goodnight. His mom called after him to remind him about his promise to take the girls biking.

“I’ll remember mom. It’s all about the ladies tomorrow,” Gregor said. He made to turn into his room, but saw Lizzie’s door wide open. She was sitting in the middle of the room at a little table, writing in her journal. Gregor smiled; This was a welcome sight. He hadn’t seen her writing in it lately. Gregor leaned in the doorway. Lizzie noticed and smiled at him.

“Hey Liz, what’re you writing?”

“Just about school. A couple of kids today were making me frustrated. I’m trying to work out why.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Gregor’s eyes moved to the corner where Boots was humming quietly, surrounded by toys and books.

“You coloring Boots?”

“Yep! Mama bought new colors,” Boots gave him a toothy smile and held up a coloring book. Warmth washed over him. That little girl never failed to make him happy enough to forget all the problems in the world.

Gregor stayed for a minute, and let them know about the plan for tomorrow. Boots especially was excited for her first real bike ride. And while she chattered aimlessly about how much fun it would all be, he and Lizzie smiled at each other.

Several months ago, discussions between them would have been very different. Talks would have orbited the topic of the Underland. Friends made and friends lost. What they had been forced to do, and how that had affected them. Gregor had found a kindred spirit in his little sister, and that closeness had carried over after topics moved to other things.

As much as he was enjoying this peaceful moment with them, the warmth was starting to fade. An all too familiar sense of cold was taking over and he knew it was time to go. He gave them each a kiss on the top of their heads and quickly retreated behind his bedroom door.

His bedroom wasn’t big. But compared to his previous arrangement, it was basically a palace. It fit his bed, dresser, an old desk donated by Angie, and a bedside table with a lamp on it. All with enough walking room to comfortably moves about. And, for the first time ever, he had a closet.

But even with that, the room immediately became suffocating. He didn’t bother flipping the light one. A carry-over from his time in the Underland was his ability to ‘see’ in the dark using echolocation. It was a skill he had kept practicing, because any time he imagined not doing so he could hear Ripred’s smarmy voice tearing into him for his negligence.

So he crossed to his bed in the dark. He reached into his back pocket and dropped the scroll onto the bed, and began to pace.

What would that message say? What could it say? Whose signature would finish it off. Vikus? If he was even able to. Howard? If he wasn’t busy being a doctor in such an unstable world. Ripred? That was stupid, rats didn’t have thumbs to write with. Luxa? Not a chance. If she had the time to write to him, she would have done so by now.

Wouldn’t she?

A nasty voice popped into his head. His friends in the Underland hadn’t sent him a single letter in two years. Not one single message to update him, or let them know they were thinking of him, or ask him how he was doing. The only proof he had that they were keeping an eye on him were the rats. They watched him wherever he went, hidden in alleys or in the grass. Behind rocks and peeking out from trash cans. 

So why now? That message had something bad written in it. He could feel it. Why else would they decide to send it? He couldn’t imagine anyone writing him a quick ‘how-do-you-do, wow it’s been so long, we should catch up’ sort of letter. 

And even if it was… did he care?

Gregor stopped pacing by the closet. He reached to his left and clicked on the lamp. A dim light filled the room, but it was more than enough. He slid the closet door to the side and looked up at the cardboard filing box that he hadn’t opened in months. He hesitate for a minute, waging a small war with himself about whether to take it down or not. Finally, he relented and reached for the box. He set it down on the desk and winced away from the dust that was knocked loose off the top. 

With a sigh, he opened the box.

Inside were a few things. A white cloth, gray now with dust, wrapped around what he knew was the claw of a large bat. It belonged to someone who Gregor had trusted more than anyone else he’d ever known. And, he was certain, more than anyone he ever would know. Ares’s death still affected him harshly. Even now, just looking at what was left of him, he felt his throat tighten.

“I’ve got to get in closer if I’m going to take him out…”

He shoved the memory away with an audible grunt of frustration.

He also had a few other memoirs of his time. The last pair of sandals he’d worn, as they were being flown back to the overland. A scroll with the heavily worn out Prophecy of Blood written backwards on it. A small stack of polaroid pictures depicting the arena all decked out and festive. An empty clay jar that had held anti-scarring ointment. These were all meaningless things, save for the polaroids, but anytime he had thought of throwing them away, it had really bummed him out.

But there was another thing. He had placed it in a plastic sleeve. That had helped keep it from wearing out. Although he hadn’t looked at it in a while. His hands, which had hesitated, moved the other stuff out of the way in their search for it. He pulled the little plastic sleeved polaroid from beneath the sandals and turned it around.

Seeing it again felt like an arrow to the heart. Luxa. They had taken this in what might have been the one real moment they had ever had for themselves. Every other time someone else had been nearby or a pressing matter had distracted them. But this one moment, a moment that two twelve year old kids had stolen for themselves in the middle of a war, was what he wanted to remember right now.

It might have been ten minutes or ten hours. To Gregor, it didn’t matter. He remembered every detail in the moments leading up to the photo. Ripred’s off-hand comment to meet him on the wall later. Pushing through the crowded halls on their way to the museum. The pure determination and confidence he had felt in those moments. How every ounce of it evaporated the moment Luxa asked him what he’d brought her there for. The variety of emotions as they went through the stack of photos. The confusion and embarrassment as he tried to tell Luxa how he felt. The shock when she reciprocated his feelings. Electricity as their lips met.

But there was another emotion now. Hurt. She hadn’t made any effort to send him anything. That singular thought burned into his brain as he turned to look at the scroll. He rightened his jaw and set the polaroid back down. He reached for the scroll and let the string holding it together unravel.

The message was short.

Gregor,

I hope this message finds you well.  It leaves us well, you will be happy to know. The peace holds firm, even still. Something has come up. We were hoping to host you for some days, if at all possible. It is wonderful, to say the least. You see, there is an alliance in the works that your presence would have great influence on. Let me know by way of a return message. We will send a flier to collect. I hope to see you soon.

All the best, Howard

Gregor had read and reread the message a dozen times before he had time to really soak in what it was saying. First, he was glad to hear that the humans and rats were still at peace. Then he scoffed at how short it was. Irritation over the fact that this was, in essence, a request. And finally, just anger. 

Anger at how informal it was. How cut and dry each word felt. Like this was a template they had ready to go and the only personal touch was that Gregor’s name began the whole thing. How the very first thing he had heard from his friends since leaving, was these people asking him to show up for a few days to help them.

That had been fine before, when he was helping them by playing the part of the mythical Warrior they worshiped in their prophecies. But even then, half of those times he’d been forcibly dragged into helping by one awful thing or another. No matter how anyone looked at it, he’d never really had a say in the matter.

Well, until the end. He had chosen to stand beside them during the war. He had chosen to face his own death to maybe save the lives of people he cared about. People he loved. And this was what he got in return.

Gregor balled up the parchment in his fist. His anger was transforming his vision, causing it to splinter. Only there was nothing to focus on. No hardpoints for his rager sense to hone in on. So the world spun. He snarled and tossed the paper across the room. His vision swept around to the box, and this time something did come into focus. The trash bin beside the desk. Without thinking about it, he upended the contents into the bin, pulled so hard on the lamp that the string broke, and fell into his bed as darkness reclaimed the room.

*******************

Ripred stretched his weary body and limbs in the hall outside of the meeting hall. Most of the other delegates had dispersed. His brain felt like mush. But whose brain wouldn’t be after so many hours of intense interrogation. Oh sure, they could call it a discussion, but he and Luxa had just gone through was nothing less than a shakedown. But they had performed well.

Luxa exited now, followed by Vikus and the other representatives; Six humans and an equal number of fliers. The fliers seemed put out by how much walking they had to do in this place. Ripred could almost muster up some sympathy for them, but really he didn’t care to. Right now, he wanted to sleep.

Of course, when was he ever allowed to do what he wanted?

“The Rushers, Ripred. Why did you not mention them?”

“I hadn’t seen them in person. Surely Vikus mentioned that to you,” Ripred said.

“Yes, but I would have liked to hear it from you. I know you have your ways.”

The representatives were filing away. Only Vikus had remained behind with them.

“And what are my ways, your highness?”

“Your network of spies is no secret to me,” Luxa said, “Did you think I truly believed that you had discovered so much all on your own? Do not presume to hide things from me.”

Ripred rolled his eyes. For all of their progress, Luxa was still a pushy little gremlin at her core. It made her a strong leader when she focused that part of herself at meetings. But he really wished she would save it solely for them.

“I never hid a thing from you. If you ever asked me about it, I would have surrendered the knowledge readily. Just so happens you never asked. Never even brought it up.”

“I am bringing it up now.”

“Yes. Yes you are,” Ripred stretched again and rolled his shoulders, “I’ll fill you in. But it’ll have to wait.”

Luxa opened her mouth, no doubt to argue some more, but Ripred held up a paw.

“Hold on. Really, we are in no shape for more talking. I need to sleep. And so do you. I promise that we’ll talk first thing when we awaken.”

“You promise?” Asked Luxa after a moment.

“Promise.”

Luxa glared at him. Ripred knew she wanted nothing more than to cut him open with that glare and sift through his innards for the information he held right then and there. But she nodded.

“Look at that. Two years ago, you would have pulled a sword on me and threatened war if I didn’t spill my secrets immediately. Now we’re making breakfast plans like civilized rulers.”

“It would seem Vikus is having an undue affect on my temper and general attitude towards those who refuse me.”

“It seems to me to be a good thing,” Vikus said with some satisfaction.

“Stranger things have happened,” Ripred said, and began to head down the hall.

While the city settled down to rest, Ripred forced himself to remain alert for a little while longer. He had reports to receive and updates to give to his people. And while he trusted his informants in the city well enough, having picked them himself after a heavy vetting period, he needed to speak with his team.

It didn’t take him long to reach the outskirts of the city. There was a series of tunnels that looped up and around and then back out into the main cavern nearby. Nobody used them because there was nothing useful about them. Except for the streamstone within them. Stone that carried messages longer distances than the general amalgamation of rock that made up most of the terrain. Streamstone were like veins that connected the entirety of the known underland. Where the veins surfaced was a secret known to very few. And luckily, some surfaced up in these useless tunnels

He set to work. He tapped, and scratched, and clicked a message that was encoded using a cypher of his own make. If the War of Time had left him with any sort of lesson, it was that codes were apparently damn near impossible to crack when they were as deceptively simple as the Code of Claw had been. All the same, he changed it every six months or so. Now, he was updating the members of his team currently sitting at streamstone conduits as far back as Regalia. And they were updating him.

One particular response gave him pause. He frowned and his tail began to twitch.

Someone had left a scroll at the grate entrance to the Underland? That note could only be meant for one person. But he had been told by his contacts upstairs that Gregor was moving away from that building. And as a rule, Ripred had kept anyone who cared in the know about major movements from their favorite overlander. So who was sending him messages?

He tucked that piece away and scratched out an order to keep an eye on that situation. It was possible Mareth or Howard had took it upon themself to send word about Petras to the boy. If that were the case, he thought, then someone should probably tell him about Ares as well…

For now, he would hold off. Something didn’t sit right with him about it. But he wouldn’t know for sure until he asked Luxa about it. Maybe she knew something his network did not. And besides, Ripred thought as he yawned and turned away from the streamstone, he really was oh so very tired.

*******************

Gregor was awake before the sun rose the following day. Saturdays were busy days for him and in order to get to Mrs. Cormaci’s apartment in time, he had to be up before anyone else. He left his room quietly and made his way to the bathroom to shower. Then he dressed in a sleepy haze back in his room. After that, he shouldered his weekend backpack and crossed to his door. He stopped before opening it, his gaze having caught on the box he’d left on the floor by the bin. He dropped the bag and kneeled over the trash bin.

He reached in and pulled out the white bundle of cloth first. The weight told him the claw had not fallen out. That was a small mercy. He felt bad enough about throwing the tantrum without regard for his friend’s remains. He set the bundle back in the box carefully and gathered up everything else. When he got to the most recent addition, the scroll from Howard, he sneered at it. He dropped it into the box and hefted it up and placed it back on the shelf in the closet. He slid the door closed and turned away before he could change his mind about anything.

He was out the door minutes later. The crisp November air bit at his lungs, but he paid it little mind. The fresh air was invigorating. Out here, away from that box, he felt less confined. And he had a purpose to chase. His dad always said one can weather any hardship if they just move. Physically get out, have a goal in mind, and head toward it. And his goal was Mrs. Cormaci.

He decided against hailing a cab today, and took his bike instead. He’d be riding it later anyways, so why not. It felt good to have his legs pumping up and down, moving the bike forward. The action forced him to concentrate on his breathing. And by the time the sun was up, he was locking the bike outside of the apartment complex.

Gregor made a point not to linger on the lower floors, opting for the elevator after his bike ride. When he was outside the door, he raised his hand to knock. But the door swung open before that and there was Mrs. Cormaci ushering him inside. Impeccable. Once upon a time he would have called it coincidence. But he knew now that some people in the world were in possession of certain abilities. Some less of a burden than others.

The smell that greeted him was, as always, an absolute delight. A full breakfast was awaiting him on the kitchen table and he drifted to his seat out of habit. Because it was his seat by now. Mrs. Cormaci had declared it so sometime last year. Said she’d leave it to him in her will. He smiled at how silly that was, especially coming from a woman who claimed she never messed around.

“I’ve got something for you here,” Mrs. Cormaci said, and set down a small leather case. Gregor set down his fork and picked up the little case, raising an eyebrow at Mrs. Cormaci. Mrs. Cormaci only smiled. Gregor popped the case open and felt himself go limp. Inside was a wristwatch. Nothing too fancy, but it had a digital face that blinked with the time. Tiny buttons on the side hinted at other features.

“Mrs. Cormaci…”

“It’s an early christmas present, no need to thank me,” Mrs. Cormaci stabbed her fork into some pancake and ate it, “I know its supposed to be the dad’s job to give his son his first watch, but I’m sure your old man will understand.”

Gregor smiled, but he knew it was strained. He loved the watch. And the woman who had given it to him. But there was a nagging at the back of his head.

“Well, go on. Try it on.”

Gregor did. And he tried out all of the little buttons so that Mrs. Cormaci could see with her own eyes that they worked. There were a dozen little extras on the watch. Two different time faces, traditional and digital, a digital compass, a timer, and one that told him the date and day. It was wonderful. Gregor looked up from the watch and smiled.

“Hey, do you have your tarot deck handy?”

Mrs. Cormaci narrowed her eyes at him.

“Don’t play games with me young man,” The deck of card was on the table in a flash, “You’ll need to ask a question.”

Gregor made an amused sound and nodded, “Alright, will I-”

“No, no no no. Nothing like that. We don’t want to lock you into anything. Ask using ‘what’ or ‘how’ or ‘why’.”

“Okay…” Gregor sat on his question for a while longer. He had asked her about the cards as a spur of the moment thing. But now he thought he should tread a little more carefully when dealing with this sort of thing, “How about this. How should I deal with coming to a fork in my path?”

Mrs. Cormaci looked up from shuffling her deck. Gregor thought maybe he had been a little too on the nose about it. She already suspected something was up. So maybe she was putting it together in her head. But if she knew, she didn’t reveal it. She spread the shuffled deck out in a fan.

“I usually wait until the question is asked to shuffle, but something drove me to begin before you asked. I’ve never done that before.”

She hovered her right hand over the fan, moving back and forth over them. She tapped a card and moved it out. She did the same for four more card, for a total of five.

“Ready?”

Gregor nodded.

She flipped over the first card.

“The knight. Pentacles suit.”

The second one, “The page. Swords suit.”

The third, “Number Sixteen. The tower…” Mrs. Cormaci frowned at that, but continued on to the fourth card.

“Page again. Cups suit, but upside down.”

Finally, the fifth card, “And knight. Cups suit. Also upside down.”

“So,” Gregor said, looking at the spread of cards, “What does any of this even mean?”

“Well…” Mrs. Cormaci put a finger on the card in the center. The Tower, “This one is the clearest. Imminent danger. Upheaval. Something unexpected.”

Gregor swallowed hard.

“But I’m feeling that all of that mess settles more into the background of what is to come. These other four are more vague. This first, Knight of Pentacles, is fairly easy. Knights represent youthfulness, and the Knight of Pentacles specifically represents brooding and potentially an inability to make a decision. Which makes sense, given your question.”

Mrs. Cormaci fingered the card, “It also happens that the Pentacles suit represents earth. I wonder.”

Gregor squirmed in his chair. That much was scarily accurate. He had a thought that maybe this had something to do with how he’d always ended up with things he’d needed while running off on picnics or tromping through jungles. He couldn’t aks right now, though. Mrs. Cormaci’s brow was furrowed in thought and he teeth clicked as she considered the cards.

“This second card, Page of Swords, is a bit worrying. Potential betrayal. Duplicity at the very least. Someone either is or will be lying to you.”

“Card four, right here,” She didn’t touch the card, but pointed to it, “An upside down Page of Cups. This one is hard to read. In general, the Page suit represents childish wonder and naivety. Why the Page would show up twice in your reading is difficult to discern. But you are young, in body at least. This one could mean that even though you’re being lied to, that as long as you remain true to yourself you’ll come out on top of it. Sometimes it can work out that way where two of the same type show up in different suits.”

“Finally. This guy right here,” She placed a finger on the last card, “Upside down Knight of Cups. Two knights makes sense. They represent travel, and you asked about a path. And that this one is in the cups suit sways me towards an emotional travel. You have some emotional upheaval ahead of you, young man. And not only that, but physical travel as well. Two knights? Absolutely you’ll be traveling.”

Gregor looked up from the cards at Mrs. Cormaci. She stared right back at him. Her gaze was inquisitive, but also overbearing somehow. Like she could see his very soul. And maybe she could, after all of this. He felt like this whole thing had been a big mistake.

Mrs. Cormaci leaned forward and smiled kindly, "Keep in mind, these cards do not tell us what will happen. They tell us what might happen. And, more importantly, how we should show up to face what lies ahead. And everything in your reading says that you should face your future with confidence. Whatever forks you come to, decide with your heart. And don't fret the decision. It's yours to make, after all." She put a hand on the deck and pushed it forward.

“I think we should pull one more. You do it,” Mrs. Cormaci said, “Don’t look at it. Give it to me.”

Might as well finish what I started, Gregor thought. 

Gregor did and set the card facedown. Mrs. Cormaci looked at it and her face remained impassive for several seconds. And then she smiled. The tension left her face. And the room seemed to lighten up by about several degrees. The oppressive sensation Gregor hadn’t realized had settled over the little kitchen lifted.

“What is it?” Gregor asked. Mrs. Cormaci shook her head and stood up. She disappeared and returned with an envelope. She placed the card in the envelope and held it up.

“I’m going to hold on to this. Remind me about it, let’s say, a year from now. No point in showing it to you right now.”

Gregor wanted to open his mouth to object, but thought better of it. He had asked for the reading. It had been a spur of the moment thing; A show of appreciation. But he’d expected something a little more lighthearted. Part of him felt angry toward Mrs. Cormaci, for playing around with the thoughts running around in his head. But they were his thoughts. And maybe there was something to these cards.

He knew nothing about tarot readings, though. Every single thing she said could have been made up. But he didn’t think she would lie. She knew what he’d gone through, even if he’d never spoken about it out loud to her. She wouldn’t bring any of it up unless she thought it was worthwhile to do so. Plus, he’d learned that he could pretend crazy things like this weren’t real all he wanted, the fact remained that there was an entire underground world full of impossible things. People sized talking rats, an ocean with sea monsters in it, even people who could see through time. These things were facts of his past. Tarot readings seemed tame by those standards.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. He went with Mrs. Cormaci to get groceries and pick up some early gifts she wanted to send her kids. Then he was sent off around noon with his usual forty bucks. When he got home, he only had a handful of minutes before he was back outside. He and his sisters biked to a nearby park and he and Lizzie spent the day chasing after Boots.

By the time the day was coming to an end, he was forgetting about the tarot reading. He and his sisters were resting in the park before heading home, Boots running around with some other little kids and Lizzie with her nose in a book, when a sound caught his attention. A scratching sound, intermingled with familiar taps and clicks. His brain subconsciously translated the sounds into letters.

Someone was sending him a message.

Chapter Text

A week went by in a flash. Luxa was sitting beside Aurora at the latest council meeting. She wasn’t required to be at them, but she wanted to be here. Vikus and the other representative sat in a section of their own, as the newly appointed official delegates for Regalia and their allies. By now, word had been sent back home and the other species would be deciding on their own representatives to send. The Petras government were also choosing who they would send back with Luxa and her host when it was time to go home. 

But, until such a time as those decisions were reached, Luxa was welcome to sit in on meetings as she pleased. Today, a gnawer named Roald was on the dais and was speaking about expansions to one of Petras’s peripheral settlements; A fairly large town by the name of Atlus built on the banks of a big lake. She knew he was not the acting governor of the town, but rather someone sent by the local governor to speak on their behalf.

She found the way they handled things here to be interesting. Not because it worked well, but because it worked at all. There was no centralized government or any sort of monarchy here. No kings or queens. Petras acted as the focal point for government, but only because it was the largest and most diverse city in the region. But every major settlement outside of Petras effectively ran itself, with a local government headed by however many governors the settlement felt were necessary. Delegates were sent from these major settlements to represent their area of influence, which sometimes included other nearby smaller settlements.

That this form of government worked astounded Luxa. Especially since it was obvious to her that Petras was in charge regardless of what anyone said. The other delegates from the smaller regions attempted to gain the favor of the Petras governors and avoided insulting them with practice. But they would turn and do the opposite when dealing with other region governors. It seemed to Luxa that everything here was being held together by a thin line of spinner silk.

Vikus, of course, chose not to see these things about them. He admitted there was an underlying hostility, but only used that fact to bolster his theories about how that only served to better keep the peace between everyone.

Today was little different. And while Roald went on about supply trains to the brand new settlements Atlus was establishing to the west, Luxa twitched. Hearing them all talk about expansion struck her. Regalia had one such periphere; The Fount. And this place had dozens. The idea egged on her competitive side. It made her restless.

When the discussions were coming to a close, Luxa stretched and leaned back in the chair. She turned to Aurora and spoke.

“When we get back, I am sending out scout teams to find fertile locations for expansion.”

“Do you think that wise?”

“No less wise than staying locked behind Regalia’s walls for the rest of existence. The last time we expanded bore us fruit. I shall attempt the same. Perhaps it will alleviate some tensions amongst out own. As it is, I am at least confident in our ability to maintain peace.”

“As am I. Perhaps in the same direction then? The caverns near the Firelands provide some fertile lands. And some protection.”

“I was thinking the same, but I want to explore more of our northern borders when we get back as well.”

Luxa lost herself in thoughts of the future for a moment. She noticed Aurora look to the right and flutter in place. Luxa looked in the same direction. She saw Saxon approaching them. That itch she felt whenever a gnawer approached begged her to scratch it. To draw her sword before the rat got too close. But it was only Saxon. And she was quick to stamp old instincts down. She found it was easy to resist today.

“Saxon, you lead a fine meeting today,” Luxa said.

“Pah. It was as dull as cloudy stream water. There is no need to scratch my ears, young queen.” Saxon laughed her off and Luxa smiled. She found Saxon to be a lot like Vikus, if her grandfather was more laid back.

“I never said exciting. Only fine. I may be unfamiliar with your way of doing politics, but I understand when important things are being discussed. Council meetings are a specialty we share,” Said Luxa.

“Aha, and so we continue to find common ground,” Saxon’s ears flicked. Luxa made to respond when the glint of a Rusher carapace caught her attention. She turned to see Tala, the smaller and more colorful of the two Rushers she had seen in meetings. When Tala reached them, the rusher bobbed up in down in their way of greeting.

“I must apologize to you, farlander queen. I have failed these past days to introduce myself properly to you. You may know my name already, but it is Tala if you do not.”

“I do know it. And mine is Luxa. It has been a busy week. And you speak with decorum, Tala,” Luxa said and turned so that she was fully facing Tala. Luxa had noticed this particular way of addressing the Rushers in some other members of the council. Each time Tala or Goro spoke to someone, they turned their bodies directly toward them, and some council members mirrored the pose, lowering their bodies when they did so. Most others did not.

“You observe our customs well. I have seen nearlanders forget the politeness you exhibit in this greeting,” Tala said, body shivering like Temp always did when he was happy.

“Your compliments meet mine fairly,” Luxa said. Another thing she had picked up on. It seemed that Rushers dealt with formality very seriously. And even though Luxa found everything about it to be deadly tedious, she knew it was important to keep face. The Rushers, she’d learned, were a power equal to Petras here.

“Your talks of vast lands of fire intrigues me, Queen Luxa,” Tala said, referencing Luxa’s descriptions of the Firelands a week prior, “And also of this ‘jungle’ you speak of. Miles and miles of twisting vines and streams. It is unlike any locale I am aware of. I have thought of little else in my free time than of how these places might exist.”

“I can tell you more if you like. Perhaps we can discuss the geography of our lands further together sometime.”

“I would love to do so. Alas, Goro and I have decided to return to our people for the time being. We have much to tell them. Do you know how much longer you will remain in Petras?”

Luxa shook her head, “I am not sure. Until the bureaucracy moves forward.”

“Wonderful! The talks are slow, and so we may yet meet again when Goro and I return. I shall accept your invitation with glee, and apologize for my earlier denial. I must be away, Goro awaits me outside the chamber.”

“Go with blessings, Tala,” Luxa said.

“And be with mine, Luxa,” Tala said.

Luxa watched Tala go, and then turned back to find Saxon in conversation with a human and a flier. It seemed that she was free. Truthfully, she was happy to go. She wanted to go and sit with Ares. She felt ashamed in the fact that she had not made time to see him since that first encounter.

Without saying goodbye, Luxa and Aurora slipped out and into the hall. Luxa held her head high and walked with a purpose. Few people were willing to stop her, and fewer still would try and stop her while it seemed she had somewhere to be. She was glad that this trick was universal. However, as she turned the corner into an empty corridor she knew would take her to the hospital below, she bumped into someone.

“Oh! I am so sorry, I really am a clutz!” The girl had stumbled backwards, but caught herself before falling. Luxa held a hand up.

“Not at all, I came around the corner too fast.”

“I was- Oh, wow. You are gorgeous. Um, sorry. Was that too forward of me?”

Luxa felt heat rise to her face and chest, but laughed it off with the shake of her head, “No, thank you for saying so.”

Luxa took stock of the girl in front of her. She was half a head shorter than Luxa, with a stockier build thanks to some fairly prominent muscles. She seemed a similar age to her as well. She had long, silvery hair, and the general countenance of someone who had seen hardship. Luxa found herself liking the girl right away. A look of realization crossed the girl’s face.

“Oh! You are the queen from far north of here. I can’t believe this, I am so-”

“No, please, stop that, you are fine. Call me Luxa,” Luxa grinned.

“Narianne. Nice to meet you,” The girl said.

“This is Aurora, my bond,” luxa gestured to Aurora, who nodded her head and greeted Narianne. The two exchanged some small talk, and when Narianne looked back at her, Luxa cocked her head.

“I haven’t seen you at meetings. Do you sit on the council?”

“No. Well, yes, but only as an apprentice to the real delegate. I sit beside him, but we are from a small settlement, and so we do not stick out among the others. We are from Roge.”

Luxa thought she remembered the delegate from Roge speaking. A tall man who reminded her of her uncle York, except with a subdued voice. She frowned in thought, trying to remember if she’d seen Narianne there, but couldn’t remember.

“Ah,” Saxon’s voice reached her ears. Luxa chided herself inwardly for allowing herself to be distracted by Narianne, “I see you have met Narianne. Perhaps you have noticed her at meetings?”

“We were just discussing that,” Said Narianne. She relaxed a little with Saxon there and her smile grew. The girl knew how to smile, for sure, “I was about to say that I have only been here a short time, and that it has been an exciting tenure thus far.”

“So it has been,” Saxon padded over and stood beside Narianne, “Luxa, Aurora, I was going about collecting some companions for a meal. I do not want you to feel obligated, but if you joined me…”

“We have a prior arrangement, Saxon,” Luxa hoped she didn’t sound too forceful. But she really needed to take some time and visit Ares. Saxon smiled sadly.

“Of course. Has there been any luck with your friend?”

“Not so far,” Another voice cut in. Luxa frowned and turned around to see Ripred stalking down the corridor towards them. Saxon made room for him, “I was waiting for the two of you near his room. But I see you were held up by our friends. I’ll need to steal them from you Saxon.”

Ripred was blunt, but he kept it civil. Saxon only bowed his head and lead Narianne away. The girl turned and waved at Luxa, still smiling. Luxa smiled and waved in return. Ripred, as soon as the two were gone, addressed them in a hushed tone.

“Follow me. I need to talk to you about something.”

Luxa frowned and followed Ripred through several halls. They went so far that the carefully sculpted hallways had become roughly hewn rock. And then one of the pathways they took opened up into a natural tunnel. They made their way in for several minutes before Ripred was satisfied.

“Now that you’ve sat in on some meetings, what do you think?”

Luxa took a moment to formulate an answer, “I think that there are a lot of underlying issues that are not being addressed.”

“I’m inclined to agree. But I admit it could just be my cynical outlook on things. It seems too chummy here,” Ripred grumbled, grooming the fur on his chest. Luxa flashed back to when he’d got the scar beneath the fur in that area. Henry had done that so long ago. It felt like so much more than three and a half years ago.

“You could try and get chummy yourself, mister defacto king of the gnawers,” Luxa said. Ripred rolled his eyes.

“There was no change in Ares today,” He said.

“I tried to see him myself, but he only begged me to leave. He still believes me a ghost,” Aurora said, though she sounded less sad now and more worried.

“But Ripred said he got him to stop thinking that about him,” Luxa frowned and eyed Ripred, “Did you not?”

“Well I hate to brag, but I’m pretty sure that out of everyone he knows, I’m the least likely to actually be dead,” Ripred said.

“This is true,” Aurora said with amusement, “We believed you dead after the war, and now here you are. Making trade deals with another city.”

“These politics don’t suit me,” Ripred groaned, “Lapblood is doing my work perfectly well for the time being. Forget being the head of our army, she makes an astonishing politician.”

“And you mocked me for bringing her,” Luxa said.

“I mocked you for bringing that host. I still do. Although, bringing a trade delegation? Was that your idea or Vikus’s?”

“I will have you know it was my idea. This entire endeavor has been my web to pull upon,” Luxa crossed her arms and smirked. She wasn’t about to act humble in front of Ripred.

“Sure enough. Was it also a part of your web to send messages to Gregor?”

Luxa’s smug attitude evaporated instantly. Worry filled her again, alongside the general flutter of emotion when his name was mentioned. Ripred must have sensed it because he glared at her.

“It wasn’t you?” Howard then? Vikus?”

“Vikus can not write well. And he has been here.”

“Scribes exist.”

“Of course they do,” Luxa snapped, “I am thinking out loud. Besides, he would have told me. Your spies got you this information?”

“Ugh, I miss being cryptic with you. Why did you have to go and ruin a good thing by becoming the queen of your people,” Ripred groaned, but he nodded, “Yes. A message was sent to him a week ago. And since then he has been sent several messages in unencrypted code. And he’s sending messages back.”

“He is?”

“That’s what I said.”

Luxa fingered the hilt on the sword at her hip. Who was sending the messages? And why in code? Howard would not do that unless he felt is necessary for some reason. Mareth would not do anything without first getting permission. And he, perhaps better than any of them, had accepted Gregor parting ways with them. Would Hazard? He did speak of Gregor and his sisters a fair amount. But no. He would know better.

“It can only be Howard,” Luxa said, “But it is unlikely. I will send a team back to discover the truth. If Howard is contacting Gregor, then something bad has happened. And if it is not Howard…”

“Then the boy may be in danger,” Ripred finished.

Luxa nodded. A knot of fear was forming in her belly. She found it difficult to remain quiet, “Of course, it would make sense to use code. If he has moved away, Like you have reported, then we would not know where to send a letter.”

Ripred shook his head, “The first message was sent in a scroll. It’s too easy an explanation. I don’t like it.”

“Will you go back?” Silence dominated the tunnel. Ripred captured and kept her gaze. He didn’t seem taken aback by the request, but she knew she was asking a lot, “To make sure. If there is danger, I trust none more than you to handle it.”

Ripred shifted his weight. Luxa did not waste any time considering another option for if Ripred said no. Even if the rat did not admit it, he liked Gregor. If there was a chance something was trying to lure him into a trap, Ripred would go.

“On one condition. Write him something. I’ll take it with me and deliver it when he’s safe.”

Luxa dropped his gaze. Shame of another sort filled her, reminding her again that Ares was suffering in the hospital and that she needed to see him. Instead, she was here and being guilted by a rat over a subject she would rather forget.

“He deserves it, Luxa. You’ve sidestepped this long enough.”

“We parted ways with the understanding we would not be meeting again. Surely he has moved on, as I have.”

Ripred scoffed and shook his ratty head.

“Luxa. If someone has made contact with him and he is responding, then surely ,” He put mocking emphasis onto the word. Luxa snarled, but Ripred continued over her, “he is at least keeping us in the back of his mind. So write him something. Anything! Hell, if you dislike the idea so much, just tell him you hate him and maybe that’ll keep him from doing anything rash.”

“If he is in danger, we do not have time for me to write a letter!” Luxa said, a little louder than she had intended, “Haste is essential. Please, Ripred. I promise I’ll write him something when we return to Regalia. Happy?”

“I’m never happy. But I suppose you’ll make me deliver it then, too,” Ripred sighed, but he pushed himself up from his lounging position.

“Of course,” Luxa put on a smile, “And you’ll do it. He’s your little buddy.”

“Aha! Alright, let’s keep this civil,” He pushed past her, putting his nose to her wrist briefly. He did the same with Aurora and then took several step back down the way they came.

Luxa watched him go and called after him, “Run like the river, Ripred!”

“And you!”

Now that Ripred was gone, the weight of the conversation really settled over her. Luxa felt the shame tighten into a knot that moved up to her throat. Ripred was right, after all. How she hated that. She didn’t delude herself into thinking her personal life held any importance to the rat, but she had noted some changes in him since the end of the war. A tendency to be kinder. More understanding. Of course, that never stopped him from insulting her in private or from throwing people around when he felt they needed some sense knocked into them. 

Aurora was there, wings open in invitation. Luxa would not cry about this. She did not feel she deserved it. But the shame was enough to drive her into those wings. Shame at not trying hard to stay in contact with Gregor. Shame at her passive role in the alliance being formed. And shame at being terrified of facing Ares.

Aurora enveloped her in a world of soft fur and warmth, hidden away from the cold tunnels and realities of a quickly changing world.

Chapter Text

Gregor felt a chill run down his spine. He frowned as a dull pain throbbed across his chest. His hand came up automatically to rub the area where the pain was localized. Next to him, Larry looked away from the stage and tapped him. Gregor raised an eyebrow at him.

Larry mouthed ‘are you okay’ and Gregor nodded. They both turned back to continue watching the performance. Angelina’s big moment of the school year was not to be missed. And the harder he focused on that, the less he noticed his aching scars. The pain was no longer debilitating, but flare ups of soreness weren’t uncommon. He’d been even more active than usual recently with the move and everything on top of volleyball practice.

Gregor watched the rest of the play. It was really good, especially for a high school theater department production with a budget to match. Gregor was of the opinion that the paintings on the backdrops were one of the best parts. Specifically the ones he had helped paint.

Plus, seeing Angie put herself completely into the role they’d been helping her get just right for the last several months was like a tonic. A reminder that his life was still his own to dictate. He was here, after all. Despite everything, he was doing fine. And it didn’t matter that his old friend didn’t care. Larry and Angie were even older friends. They were still here, and he hoped they always would be.

The show finished and he found himself backstage with Larry, Angelina, and some of the other cast and crew. Congratulations were being tossed around and everyone was riding the emotional high of a successful show. Gregor turned away from complimenting some of the light guys on their choices. He was grinning big and found Angie beaming at him when he walked back over to her and Larry.

“What?” Gregor asked.

“Nothing,” She said, “It’s nice seeing you like this is all.”

“What? Talking to people? C’mon Angie, I know I’m not mister social, but-”

“Oh shut up,” Larry cuffed him on the back of the head, but he was grinning as well, “She means smiling and laughing and all that.”

“You seemed a little upset this last week and a half,” Angie said, “Like you were when you came back to school. I was afraid something had happened.”

Gregor smiled, warmth welling up within him. His friends… lucky didn’t even begin to explain it.

“Sorry for worrying you, then. Just had a bit of a bad week was all,” Gregor said. He slapped Larry on the back and pointed at Angie, “Come on. Your pal Jenny said something about everyone going to a buffet. She invited us, and I think that’s because she was eyeing Larry here up.”

Angie put her face in her hands while she shook with laughter. Larry turned a shade of red and placed his hands in his pocket. Gregor grinned and put an arm around his friend’s shoulders and shook him a bit, “We’re gonna set you up buddy. Tonight is the night. Our romantic destination; The chinese buffet.”

“We’ll see,” Larry muttered, head shaking. He didn’t seem put out by the idea, though. Gregor smiled even bigger. 

The night out wasn’t so bad either. Gregor and Angie worked together to make sure they sat as close to Jenny as possible. It worked, and they got Larry right next to Jenny. Dinner was okay, too; As okay as cheap chinese buffet food could be in any case. Afterwards, everyone moved to a small park nearby, fortune cookies in hand. Gregor happily exchanged fortunes with the others, making fun of the cheesy and vapid quotes written on the little slips. He briefly thought of Mrs. Cormaci’s tarot reading, and just as quickly dismissed the memory.

While everyone else began to swap plans for winter break, Gregor snuck off to find someplace quiet. He just needed to be alone for a few minutes. He found a bench that looked out into the street. It was better than nothing, and there were some trees to helped divert the chilly breeze. He sat and watched cars drive past, hands buried in his jacket, basking in the joy of the evening. 

It was hard to imagine how conflicted he’d felt only days prior. The tarot reading had weighed on him for a couple of nights. And when he figured out that whoever he was exchanging messages with wasn’t anyone he knew, he began to really worry. Duplicity, he’d remembered. Someone would lie to him. That’s what Mrs. Cormaci had said. But then he thought back to the morning of the battle, and what RIpred had said to him then. About the prophecies being bogus and how he could survive it. He realized how silly he was being.

All the same, he’d been anxious about everything. So yesterday, he walked his sisters to school and then sneaked out to go and visit dad at work. Gregor had said he’d keep the man informed after all. His dad found them an unused room at the research lab he’d talked his way into a job at, and the two of the had been quiet for a moment. But Gregor broke it down for him in time, explaining the nature of the message he received.

“It was just an update. And a request for help with some sort of treaty,” Gregor said.

“So it was from Howard?”

“That’s right. At least, that’s who it says its from.”

“What do you mean?”

“The day after you gave me the scroll, me and the girls stopped for a break at a park. Something was scratching out a message for me in that code they use. Unencrypted.”

His dad’s eyes grew wide. Gregor shook his head and cut him off.

“No, don’t worry. I’m ignoring them now. Whoever they are, they aren’t anyone I know. And I don’t think they know where we live. There’s a rock at that park and its the only place I’ve been able to send or get anything.”

“What where they about?”

“They tried a couple of things to get me to go to the central park entrance. But they mentioned some things that tipped me off. I stopped going back, told them I was leaving the city.”

Gregor’s dad blew out a breath and leaned back in the breakroom chair he was sitting in. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“What about the scroll then?”

“What about it?”

“If it really is from Howard. What do you want to do, son?”

Gregor frowned and leaned his back against the wall. He had thought about it. But now he had to make that decision. A sense of vertigo threatened to steal his balance from him, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’ll do anything.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna just run off or anything anyway,” He sighed, “Besides. I’m kinda peeved about the whole thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“I hear nothing from them for two years. Then they send me something, but it’s a request,” Gregor bit the inside of his cheek, “It’s like, half the time they wanna talk to me its to ask me for something.”

“You mentioned the scroll had an update, too.”

“Well, yeah. But it’s about the city and how the peace is holding up. Nothing about anyone I care about or what they’ve been up to,” Gregor heard the frustration in his own voice and he could feel the rager blood boiling, as it was want to do whenever he was upset or angry. He tempered his frustration. His dad only smiled sadly.

“Just be careful, son. I won’t tell you what to do about this. We’re past that, you and I. Your mother won’t share that mindset, though.”

“No, probably not,” Gregor said with a light laugh, “I’m happy right now, though.”

Gregor felt himself loosening up. Like a weight had been lifted from him. The rager sensation passed, replaced by a sense of relief. Gregor nodded, following that sensation.

“I have the team, and Larry and Angie. We’ve got the new house. The nightmares don’t bother me as much anymore. I think I’m just gonna turn them down.”

“That can’t be an easy choice for you.”

“No. It isn’t. But it’s also not as hard as I thought it would be. And way easier than it would have been a year ago.”

“Moving on is never easy. But you’re doing really well,” His dad smiled, “I’m proud of you, son.”

His dad put his hands on Gregor’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, smiling. Gregor hugged his dad, and he hugged back. All those years ago, when his dad was as good as dead, this was exactly the sort of thing he had refused himself to think about. And he again realized how lucky he was.

Gregor smiled, his eyes closed as he listened to the rustling of the trees. Just thinking about the conversation made him feel like he could float. But there was also a bittersweet taste that came with it now. He was letting go of something so important to him, but he knew now that it was necessary in order to keep walking forward. His best friend… his first love…  He started as someone settled onto the bench beside him. Angie grinned at him from his left.

“Larry’s got a date next Friday.”

“No way?”

“Yep. He’s talking to her now about their plans.”

Gregor laughed, genuinely laughed. Angie sighed and leaned into him, “Now it’s your turn. We gotta find someone who’s into the strong moody type.”

“Oh no, I’m spoken for,” Gregor said. He froze, realizing what he’d just said. What was he thinking? He was just thinking about it, brooding on a chapter of his life closing for good. Brooding? Like what Mrs. Cormaci said about the one knight card? Coincidence, he decided. Vague prophecies could be interpreted a thousand different ways after all. 

“Don’t you lie to me, Campbell,” Angie laughed. Gregor forced himself to smile. She thought it was a joke. That, at least, was a mercy. 

“No lies,” He said, “You don’t know her. She goes to another school.” He grabbed onto the joke aspect immediately.

“Ahhh. Right, right. Of course, ” Angie laughed “The old standby. What’s her name?”

“Noneya. She’s a foreign exchange student.”

“Sounds legit,” Angie stood up and held a hand out to him, “I’d love to meet her one day.”

Gregor accepted her hand. It was warm. Gregor smiled, “Alright, let’s get moving, it’s so darn cold out here.”

They met up with Larry and pulled their jackets close against the wind as they made their way to the subway. 

************

Ripred stopped to steady his breathing. He realized, as he regulated his breaths, that only 3 or 4 days had passed since he’d spoken to Luxa. The whole trip was a blur. He had run nonstop the entire way, pausing only twice for food and once to sleep. Sleepiness pulled at his eyes, but the thrill and self-satisfaction at having run so far in such a short time kept him moving.

“Still got it,” He choked out, cantering up the stairs that would lead to the Central Park entrance to the Underland. Wishing terribly to lie down for a while, he pushed up against the rock, moving it just enough to check what time it was. It was dark, and he couldn’t hear anybody nearby. A stroke of luck.

Within the hour, Ripred was skulking about the overland. Staying in the shadows was easy, if annoying. His trips up here had been infrequent, but there were landmarks he could pick out among the bustling world above. He tracked down a few of the overland rats who kept an eye on Gregor’s family for him and had them lead him to their new location.

Gregor’s family’s scent became more clear the closer he got. Finally, he slipped over the fence that kept overland yards separate and slinked against the wall. He positioned his head near a window, listening and smelling for information.

The boy’s parents were home. They were in the kitchen, mingled with the scent of something that smelled delicious. He fought back the urge to grumble, having only recently eaten a few fish from a river two days ago. He sniffed and caught Boot’s and Lizzie’s scents. A glow accompanied Lizzie’s.

Good girl, he thought, she was managing well. Boots was with her. And another scent he figured was the boy’s grandmother. Their scents mingled, indicating they were all in the same room at the moment, one on the other end of the house. Gregor’s scent was near there as well, but it was several hours old. The boy wasn’t home.

Ripred bared his teeth. Of course he wouldn’t be here, the inconsiderate little pup. But an anxiety rose up within him. If the boy was gone, something bad could have happened to him. While he was considering his next move, he caught the scent he was looking for. Ripred’s head snapped toward the front of the house. Finally.

Ripred moved around the back, sniffing a window to confirm that Gregor’s scent was most concentrated there and then opened it up to sneak in. He settled in to wait, while the family enjoyed a lovely, incredible, most wonderful smelling meal. His stomach grumbled, but his nose caught the smell of something in the room. He rooted around beside the bed and found a couple bags of chips. He popped them into his mouth, bags and all, hardly taking the time to savor the horrible, overly salted little things. But they stopped the hunger pangs.

After an hour, footsteps came down the hall. When the door open, Ripred squinted in the light from the hallway. Gregor made a sound of surprise, but shut the door quickly behind him. Good. The boy’s instincts were still intact, he was glad to see.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Gregor hissed and locked the door.

“Making sure you aren’t getting yourself into trouble,” Ripred said.

“Trouble?” Gregor looked at him confused for a moment. Then, “Oh. The messages.”

“Yeah. Those. You’ve been talking to strangers.”

Gregor moved across the room and turned the fan on. He leaned against the wall there and crossed his arms. The fan covered their words. Smart.

“Yeah, I know. I figured that much out,” Gregor said.

“Really now?” Ripred raised an eyebrow, “You’re telling me you have a brain? And that you can use it, too?”

“Shocker, I know,” Gregor rolled his eyes, “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“As it so happens, I learned about your correspondences and decided I should check in on you. Make sure you aren’t accepting candies from strangers. Is that how your saying goes?”

“Yeah,” Gregor scowled, “Well I’m fine. No need to worry.”

“What did the messages say?”

“They mentioned Regalia was in trouble. And then that something bad had happened, and that people were hurt.”

“And?”

Gregor narrowed his eyes at him.

“And what?”

Ripred sighed, “What convinced you it was untrue? You’ve shown a certain recklessness in the past. Particularly when a certain queen was involved.”

Ripred grinned as Gregor’s discomfort manifested. Fidgeting fingers and sweaty palms.

“I know you have rats following me. The little guys sneaking around like I don’t notice them. So I figured that any messages you guys would send would end up here instead of some random rock in a park several miles away.”

Ripred perked up at that.

“A rock you say?”

“Yeah, there’s a little park by a waterwalk that we pass through on bike rides. Why?”

Ripred’s tail twitched. That was an interesting tidbit. He had assumed that the boy was receiving and sending messages in Central Park. Worst case scenario, he was getting the messages here. Ripred had only been told about the messages, not the location they were coming and going from. He snarled, angry at himself for not thinking of that.

“Hmmm. Say, where were you today? Sending a response?”

“I was out with friends. And no, I stopped responding days ago. Told whoever it was that my family was leaving and haven’t gone back since.”

“Good. I run nonstop for three days only to find that you’re finally being smart enough that I don’t need to worry you.”

“Well, sorry for not letting you people drag me away to try and kill me for once.”

“Honestly, pretty rude of you,” Ripred felt a wave of exhaustion crawl over him now that he was assured there was no immediate threat. He needed the find somewhere to lay down and sleep. A thought crossed his mind.

“Did you keep that scroll?”

The boy crossed over to the closet and took down a box. He dug through it for a moment and produced the scroll. He held it out toward Ripred and Ripred put his nose up next to it. He took a sniff and relaxed.

“It has Howard’s scent on it. So that’s a relief.”

Gregor nodded and stuffed the scroll back into the box. Ripred eyed him while he placed the box back up into the closet and shut the door. Gregor turned around and crossed his arms.

“So what now? You gonna head back?”

“Are you in such a rush to be rid of me already?” Ripred put a paw on his chest, feigning hurt.

“Kind of,” Gregor shrugged, “You’re in my house Ripred.”

Ripred narrowed his eyes, “I seem to remember you once intruded upon my home, asking me to babysit last minute no less.”

Gregor looked properly admonished. Ripred smiled, feeling satisfied. Teenagers were the same wherever one went, at their core. And, by the river, he had been dealing with so many these last few years.

“Alright, I’m going to slink off and find something to eat. And a place to sleep. But this trip won’t be a waste,” Ripred got up and stretched, “Could you lead me to that rock tomorrow evening?”

Gregor frowned. Ripred matched the expression. He had noticed something about the boy. A hesitance. The boy hadn’t brought up that initial scroll on his own. He hadn’t asked a single question about Luxa or Howard or anyone. Ripred could smell the uneasiness and frustration practically dripping from him.

“What’s got you?” Ripred said.

Gregor sighed, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ripred said, “That I was prepared to answer a hundred questions. But you’re ready to see me gone without asking even one. You aren’t curious about how anyone is doing? Not Luxa? Vikus?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I’m not, “Gregor snapped. He threw his arms out, “Two years of silence, and then all of a sudden you people are back in my life. And all you want is for me to help you with something.”

“Well that’s just untrue. I came her specifically to make sure you were safe.”

“Yeah? And now you want me to take you on a field trip across the city so you can look at a rock.”

“A rock that you were talking to someone from,” Ripred bared his teeth, “You seem to think that there won’t be consequences from that, boy. If they could find out where you were going in order to send you messages to that rock, don’t you think they’ll be able to find where you live, as well? Huh? And then what? Unsavory types trying to lure you to the Underland under false pretense would know where your family was.”

Gregor was staring daggers into him now. Ripred was adept at keeping his own rager sensation locked away until needed, but he could sense the power spewing from the boy.

“I just don’t want to get caught up in anything.”

“You won’t. I just need you to show me that rock and I’ll take care of everything else,” Ripred said, and he crossed over to the boy, “You don’t have anything else you need to tell me, right?”

“Nothing that I need to, no,” Gregor said, “I’m just done being yanked around by all of you, is all.”

Ripred narrowed his eyes. So that was how it was then? Ripred could see it on his face, smell it in the air. The boy had moved on. Well, good for him honestly. Truly, Ripred was glad to see how well he was doing after a year of what must have seemed like hell to him. He deserved to move on, though Ripred would never say that out loud.

“Fine. But we need to make sure your tracks are covered. If whoever was talking to you finds out where you live, it will be a problem. So I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen. But I need you to show me where this rock is first. Deal?”

“Sure. But that’s it.”

Ripred nodded, “That’s it. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Just meet me at the end of the block,” He pointed his nose to which end he was referring to and turned his back on the boy.

Without another word, Ripred slipped out through the window. The cloudy sky made the need for stealth obsolete, but he was still careful not to stray too near any street lights. There was no point going all the way back to Central Park. Ripred remembered passing by a construction site with a hiatus sign set into the entry. Hopefully tomorrow wouldn’t be anyone’s first day back.

He reached the site and chose to slip into some roomy pipes with some tarp set over them. He mulled over what he’d learned while he prepared the pipe with some wood shavings nearby. Whoever was contacting Gregor knew how to get in touch with the boy. They weren't sending straight to his home, which was smart, but if that rock connected to a known streamstone vein then it might be undeniable. 

Ripred had not told anyone on his team about Gregor’s new living arrangements. Every one of them was still under the assumption that he lived in the apartment building above the grate entrance. Of course, while the overland rats were working for him, that didn’t mean they were loyal. They were simple creatures. Easily swayed by fear or food. Not to mention the overland crawlers doing their fair share of reconnaissance. The fliers could rely on their smaller friends as well, though with far less auspicious conditions. 

Ripred was already regretting that he let his team know he was headed to the overland to look into the origin of these messages. The idea nagged at him as he curled up to fall asleep.

Someone on his team was up to something nefarious. And Ripred was gonna find out who.

Chapter Text

Gregor’s eyes shot open. His echolocation kicked in immediately, giving him an instant and clear view of his room. He could see the ceiling fan above him moving like an old, choppy black and white film. But that wasn’t the only thing that had kicked into gear. He could feel that damned buzzing at the base of his skull. Something wasn’t right. Every cell in his body was alive and alert. Gregor tossed his blanket off of him and threw his legs over the side of his bed to stand up. He took stock of the room carefully.

He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Just the furniture, the fan, and his door. Gregor ran a hand over his face and sighed. Maybe it was the extra space in his sleeping area sending his brain false signals. Maybe it was how new the environment was. Hell, and here was an idea, maybe it was the fact that Ripred had been here only, what? He checked the digital wristwatch sitting on the bedside table and shook his head. Only five hours ago.

Gregor stood there for a minute, debating his next course of action. There wasn’t any extra noise coming from the house. But his door was cracked open just slightly. He hadn’t done that. He decided to be safe and have a look around. He slowly pulled it in and checked down the hall both ways. The buzzing intensified. His breathing grew quicker. Gregor fought to be as quiet as possible as he moved down the hall to the girls’ room. He cracked the door open and saw them both asleep in their beds. He checked the grandma’s room, really more of an extra room than a bedroom, and found her the same as his sister’s. He checked his parent’s room next and they were also sound asleep. Everyone was fine.

Gregor was going nuts. He had to be. Ripred’s visit had messed him up. The looming meeting with him tomorrow had put him on edge. His echolocation had picked up his fan while he slept, told his rager sense there was danger, and woke him up. He finished a second circuit of the house and leaned against the kitchen counter to think about what he was doing. Skulking around the house at two in the morning like some creep, believing what? That someone was in the house? The longer he stood there, the sillier it seemed.

By the time he returned to his bedroom, forty-five minutes had passed. The buzzing in his head had receded. Sleepiness replaced it. He stepped into the room and went to shut the door when he picked up movement on his left. The buzz that had faded took over in an instant, splintering his vision.

Control it

He turned to intercept his attacker. Vulnerable points became obvious targets; The elbow joint of an arm. The palm side of the wrist. The neck. Eyes. All places he could hit and remove this opponent from the fight. 

None of those targets, he realized, were viable here. The thought washed over him like ice water.. 

Don’t let it take over

His attacker was human. A fist came toward his face. He ducked and lunged forward, ramming his shoulder into the person’s sternum. Hands grasped at his back. Gregor reached for one of those hands and twisted it up and around. The guy cried out in pain as Gregor twisted him around and shoved him up against the wall face-first.

His vision continued to highlight the places where he could end this fight right here and now. There was a pencil within arm’s reach, after all. That was all it would take.

Control it

Something hit him hard from behind, causing him to stagger to the side and let go of the first guy. He didn’t give this second attacker a chance as he spun around just in time to dodge the wooden post they were swinging at him. They swung again and Gregor grabbed it, pulled, and bashed the person in the face with his elbow. Gregor felt a warm splash against his arm and face as the person let go of the post and staggered backward.

Gregor turned and swung the post hard at his first attacker as they regained their footing. There was a dull thunk as the blow landed and a crack as blood spattered the wall, and the person went limp and fell to the floor. Gregor lunged at his second attacker, whose face was bleeding heavily from the nose. His hands found their throat easily.

You can’t kill someone here

Gregor could hear the choking sounds from the woman below him. He could see their eyes widen as their hands grasped at Gregor’s wrists, trying to pry them free. Their mouth opened, a silent plea. They began to make less noise, their hands and body struggling less, and he heard it; Laughter.

His laughter.

He gasped as his vision became clearer. He let go of their throat and fell backwards off of the person. She was a woman, he noticed now. An Underlander woman. She switched between coughing hoarsely and sucking in short ragged breaths while clutching her throat. 

Jeez, he had really almost done it.

There was a sound behind him and he turned, his vision blurring slightly in response to the threat, but pain exploded across his face before it had a chance to take full hold. Warm blood trickled from his nose and mingled with the woman’s  blood already there. His mouth filled with an acidic, iron taste as he hit the floor next to the gasping woman.

Gregor pushed up and then off the wall into the guy, this one was an Underlander man, throwing him back into the dresser. The man shouted in pain as the corner of the dresser dug into his back. Gregor threw a punch that sent the guy to the ground again. Gregor went to wipe the blood dripping from his face and winced as pain shot through his face. Yeah, his nose was definitely broken. He turned to run out into the hall and noticed a third figure standing there. 

He stopped in his tracks as he noticed the glint of steel in the newcomer’s hand.

“Damn.”

“Gregor?” His dad’s voice carried down the hall shakily. Gregor knew it was too much to hope that nobody had heard his laughter. It echoed in his own head even now as his blood boiled and his mind raced.

Gregor locked eyes with the man in front of him. His curtains had come down in the scuffle and so there was a dim light coming into the room now that made is much easier to see. The man flashed a dagger and beckoned at Gregor to come forward. Gregor grit his teeth.

“I’m okay, dad. Are the others with you.”

“Yeah. I’ve got the family right here. Grandma’s still in her room. What’s going on?”

The man reached out and grabbed Gregor by the arm. Gregor fought the buzzing as he was pulled out into the hall. Gregor stumbled forward and sneered at the guy. In the hall was a fourth figure. He lit a torch and held it up so that the hall was bathed in a warm light. This figure was also a man. He also had a sword pointed at his family, minus his grandmother, huddled in a little group and looking terrified. 

“Don’t you touch them,” Gregor snarled.

“Do not worry, Overlander,” Said the man who had the dagger pressed into Gregor’s back, “We have no intention of bringing harm to your family, or any further harm to you.

Gregor snorted a laugh, sending a fresh wave of pain through his head, “I wish you’d have mentioned that before you broke my nose.”

“You can not blame my friends for fighting back when attacked.”

“Attacked?! I was defending my-”

“Enough! We must be away. Come along,” The man leaned closer, “Need I remind you I have a dagger to your back.”

“You’re lucky we are where we are,” Gregor said under his breath. He complied, however, and allowed the man to bind his wrists with some rope. The man went the extra mile and tied Gregor’s arms around his waist and chest while he was at it.

While he was working, Gregor watched the other two figures leave his room. For his broken nose, Gregor could tell his assailants had also received the same. Both the man and woman were bleeding from their noses, which were quirked at nasty angles. The man was bent forward, so he might have a broken rib as well. And the woman was still massaging her throat. He felt a grim satisfaction that he’d dished out twice the hurt he’d received, but it was tempered by the memory of his laughter and the sight of his family watching him.

“I’ll be alright, guys. I’ll find out what this is about and be back soon.”

“Do what you need to do, son,” His dad said.

“Gregor,” His mom said weakly, “Come back to us safe, baby, okay?”

“Yeah, mom. See you all soon.”

Gregor was pushed past them and he tried to smile. Even if he managed to come off as confident, his busted up face probably wasn’t too comforting. Oh well.

“I would not say soon, Overlander,” Said the man.

“No? And why’s that?”

“We need your help. Events are in motion that we alone can not untangle. War may yet loom only a cavern away. But it may just as easily be averted. I believe you are key in this effort.”

Gregor cursed as they pushed him out into the street. The chilly night air stung at him. He was still wearing his night clothes. At least this was happening in November, meaning that it was cold enough to sleep with socks on. He hated the idea of being pushed through New York City bare footed.

Regardless of that, his mind lingered on what that guy had said. Of course there was war on the horizon. Of course Ripred hadn’t mentioned it. No, he needed Gregor’s help and would lie in order to get it. 

A horrible thought occurred to him. Was this something Ripred had set up? Had the rat not thought Gregor would fight back? But no. No matter how he spun it, Gregor couldn’t believe Ripred would do something like this. The only time he had, he’d only intended to scare his mom and it was to get their help with something he couldn’t control; The Cure of the Warmbloods. But these guys were talking about war, and if there was anything Ripred could deal with it was war.

Besdies, Ripred wouldn’t send armed Underlanders to his house the very same night he’d made plans with Gregor.

No, this wasn’t Ripred. So it could only be one thing; The people who had been sending him messages in the park. That had to be it. And as he was shoved quietly through alleys and across empty roads, he entertained the thought of screaming and shouting. But if police saw these guys, saw their injuries and Gregor’s own… No, he could file that under attention his family did not need. They had just gotten on their feet. This was just an unfortunate detour.

There really was no escaping the Underland, he decided, as his captors worked to slide the rock aside. Destiny might not be real, and even now he wasn’t entirely convinced of it himself, but the Underland was. 

And as long as they put stock in him, then he would continue to find himself mixed up in their affairs. Might as well call it destiny.

************

Ripred knew that something was wrong the moment he stepped around the corner onto the block Gregor’s family lived on. With a crisp breeze flowing right at him, he picked up the scent almost even before he rounded the corner; Underlander, there was no doubt, and not his own. 

Ripred cantered down the sidewalk, reaching the house quickly. The lights were on, and he could smell the boy’s family inside. But Gregor wasn’t there.

Ripred ran a claw methodically over the scar on his chest. He’d never spoken about this particular piece of work, courtesy of yet another member of Luxa’s family, but it often throbbed with a dull pain. Ripred figured it was because of how close the original wound had been to an artery. A little further to the right…

It was likely Ripred would not be here if he hadn’t seen the look of horror in Gregor’s eyes that night. 

Ripred groaned, playing out the possible outcomes of the conversation he was about to have in his head as he slipped into the back yard. The boy’s mother might attack him, but that was fine. His father might be distraught enough to do something, though Ripred had known the man to be cool-headed. Boots and Lizzie? Children changed a lot in short times, even by human standards, so who could tell. Either way, he needed information. So he rapped his tail on their back door.

The boy’s father answered. That was a good start.

“Don’t scream,” Ripred said quietly.

The look of desperate hope drained from the man’s face and confusion replaced it. After a moment, he spoke.

“Ripred?”

“Yes. Something’s happened, I need to know what.”

“What? How do you know something happened?”

“I can smell it. Underlanders. Humans. I need you to fill me in.”

“Honey, who is it?” 

Ripred tried not to grimace as Grace slipped into the doorframe. Her face similarly drained of a reserved hope, except anger replaced it on her face.

“No. Nuh-uh! This is all you people’s fault, you need to go away!”

“Grace, honey, relax.”

“I will not Relax, Isacc,” Grace said in a harsh whisper, “They took Gregor! What the hell are they even doing back here?” Grace didn’t give the man time to answer, “Where is he?!”

“That is exactly what I’m trying to figure out,” Ripred said, “I need to know what happened so I can find him, Grace.”

Grace’s face went white, “You know my name?”

Ripred rolled his eyes. This was taking too long, “I was there when you so bravely accompanied your kids for the meeting. Before you got the plague? See, I did this thing called remembering. You shouted your name so everyone knew what to call you, right?”

“You know RIpred, hon. He’s been nothing but helpful in the past. He kept Lizzie safe back then. And he’s helped Gregor a lot, remember?”

“And vice versa, I’m somewhat loathe to admit. The point is, I plan to find him and bring him back,” Ripred rolled his shoulder, “I need to know how many there were. And if you noticed anything specific about them.”

Grace’s face betrayed a fierce conflict waging in her mind. Ripred sighed, ready to start getting nasty, but a voice from inside the house turned his mood around in an instant.

“Ripred?!” Lizzie pushed past her mother. Grace, preoccupied, was too late in grabbing the girl. Lizzie ran right into Ripred. Ripred grinned as Lizzie buried her face into his fur. His tail came around to rub the girl’s back.

“Hey now. Look who’s gotten way too tall in no time at all,” Ripred said.

“I’m only 7 inches taller than when I last saw you.”

“It’s been a blink of the eye,” Ripred said.

“Are you here because of Gregor? Are you going to save him?”

“That’s exactly what I’m in the middle of doing.”

“There were four of them,” Said Issac. Grace had gone quiet, seemingly having accepted the situation for what it was. She leaned heavily on the doorframe. Ripred did note that Boots had joined them, hugging her mother’s leg and watching him with big eyes, “They didn’t hurt any of us. We heard loud noises and crashes coming from inside. But when I came out into the living room, one of them flashed a sword at me. I called for Grace, and a second man ushered the girls out of their room. He didn’t bother with my mother, though.”

Ripred gave Lizzie a squeeze with his tail as her grip on his fur grew tighter.

“Gregor walked out. He must have put up a hell of a fight. Two other Underlanders followed him out of the room, but they were beat up pretty bad. Looked like he’d broken their noses. And one of them was limping.”

Ripred smirked. Hell of a fight indeed, Gregor had held back. Lucky they had come away from it at all, let alone limping.

“But they had you at sword point,” Ripred said.

“Right. And the one had a dagger on Gregor, too.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered,” Ripred said, “They were smart and used you against him…” Ripred’s ear twitched. He considered that. But also, the information about them being humans was a bit surprising.

“This might have been the smartest play, anyway. And maybe he knew that…” Ripred said.

“What do you mean?” Asked Isacc.

“He was in contact with someone. Someone trying to lure him back to the Underland,” Ripred said, though his thoughts were making sense of the subtext. Ripred had warned the boy that something like this might happen. Had Gregor actually thought that far ahead?

“You think Gregor let himself be taken? So that he could find out who was after him?” Lizzie said. Ripred smiled big, snapping back to the conversation.

“Exactly. You are something special, I swear.” Ripred said.

Lizzie looked very pleased with herself. 

“Yes, he didn’t want to do anything rash here in the overland. And even if he dealt with the four of them last night, whoever was after him might send others…” Ripred looked back to the parents, “For what it’s worth, I believe Gregor will be perfectly fine. He’s not easily matched in a fight.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Grace finally spoke up again. Ripred turned his attention to her. She looked scared and she was pale with worry, but there was a strength to her voice that drew some respect from Ripred.

“I was sick for a lot of the time down there. But I knew what was happening toward the end. I know what he was a part of and I’ve guessed at what he had to do. I saw how it affected him. So when he finally started becoming more like himself again, I was so happy I could have cried,” Grace’s face tightened and some color returned to her face, “But now he’s been taken back. I don’t want to lose my son again.”

Ripred caught her gaze and met it, unblinking, “You won’t lose your son, Grace. I’ll see to that. In the meantime, keep an eye out. And if you find yourself in need of help, the Regalians keep scouts in the tunnels beneath the entry beneath your old building. If there is a problem getting inside, the ever precious Mrs. Cormaci should be more than willing to help, yes?”

Grace and Isacc nodded. 

Ripred gave Lizzie a nuzzle, “Be brave. If I don’t see you again, be good.”

Lizzie smiled and nodded, “I hope I do, though. See you again, that is.”

“Come on, we have to get you girls ready for bed,” Grace said, stepping forward to usher Lizzie inside. Ripred unwrapped his tail from around her and watched her disappear inside.

“I never had a chance to really thank you before,” Said Issac as Ripred turned to go. Ripred stopped and looked back, “For keeping her safe. Lizzie. And for watching out for Gregor and Boots, too. But I know you did extra from Lizzie. So thank you.”

Ripred shrugged, “She saved all of us in return. The other two had their uses as well. I’ll get your son home. What you do after that is up to you, but If it were me, I would leave the city. I understand your country is quite large. Find somewhere on the other side of it, and settle down there.”

The man nodded and Ripred headed off. He was glad he had slept for so long, not having much else to do during the daytime here, because it sure didn’t seem like he was going to be getting much of it for a little while. He stretched out his limbs and took off at a run, barely worrying if someone saw him at this point. Before long, he was pushing the rock back into place above him. Time to track down an overlander.

Chapter Text

Luxa settled back against the wall of Ares’s room. She watched him sleep, hugging her knees. The room was silent today. Ares had shown some improvement towards her and Aurora. He no longer screeched about specters when he saw them. Mostly he just rolled over to avoid eye contact with them. Like today.

Luxa could not tell if Ares was asleep or not. But his breathing was long and slow, so she thought he must be. She considered trying to talk to him again. Just so that he could hear her voice and know that she was there. But if he was asleep, it seemed a cruel thing to wrench him from it. So there she sat, solemn in her thoughts while Aurora sat in on a council meeting. 

Luxa was grateful for these opportunities to just sit there, despite the otherwise discouraging air. She could sit and process her thoughts before bringing them to Aurora. She could organize what she learned. And there was a lot flying around her head these days. The biggest one right now was the promise she had made to Ripred about writing to Gregor. The uncharacteristic sentimental nature of the request coming from Ripred of all creatures was bemusing enough, but she was really fretting over the contents of the letter.  She had tried to sit down and write something a couple of times since, but nothing came to her. What was there to say? She could fill a hundred letters letting him know what had occurred since he had left, but whenever she imagined putting it to parchment all it amounted to was a list of events. Would he care much for that? She did not think so.

“I could write to him that you are alive, I suppose,” Luxa said in a whisper. Ares stirred, and Luxa saw his face stretch around to look at her.

“Who?” 

Luxa froze. Every muscle tensed so tightly that she could have snapped in two. But she noticed his eyes. There was a dreamy quality to them. They were unfocused. Luxa bit her lip. Ripred warned them against it, but maybe it would help.

“Gregor. I am considering writing him a letter. He should know that you live,” She said.

Ares’s eyes became sharper, focusing in on her. Luxa held her breath as Ares shifted again. He pushed himself into an upright position. His eyes narrowed. They closed and his head lulled, wings going limp. Luxa felt a stab of panic before noticing he was still breathing. Frustrated by the lack of, well, whatever it was she had been expecting, Luxa stepped out into the hall. A welcome sight greeted her. Aurora and Narianne were walking down the hall.

Narianne raised a hand in greeting. Luxa smiled, pushing away the frustration still nipping at her. Aurora was here now, though. That made things better. They exchanged their brief greeting, claw and hand reaching for one another.

“He stirred briefly just now,” Luxa said an explained what happened. Aurora sighed as Luxa finished the brief tale.

“At least he is becoming used to us,” Luxa ran her hand through Aurora’s fur. Aurora nodded.

“Yes,” Aurora said shortly.

“Your presence is a boon to him, to be sure,” Narianne said encouragingly. Luxa nodded. In the last few days, Narianne had made sure to stop by after meetings and only yesterday she had joined them for lunch. The girl had become welcome company.

“How was the meeting?”

“Tiring,” Aurora said. Narianne nodded.

“The delegates, “Said Narianne, “have finally begun to criticize your system of ruling. Your absence this afternoon emboldened some of the more outspoken governors from Petras and Atlas to mention how archaic it is to still govern by way of a monarchy.”

Luxa’s face scrunched up, “Archaic? Our people have survived well thanks to it.”

“The topic is a sensitive subject for them. It has been only two generations since the humans moved away from a royal family being in charge. There are still those alive who remember the transition. Some of them fear your presence may reignite some faith in that system.”

Luxa raised an eyebrow.

“Your government is so young, I was not aware of this.”

“Yes. It is not a period of history we like to discuss. That you are here at all has given some worry to the regions who hold power,” Narianne was wringing her wrists, smiling in a way that convinced Luxa that she was hiding something. She liked Narianne well enough, but she had her doubts about how effective a politician she would make.

The sounds of muttering came from inside the room, distracting them from further conversation. Luxa frowned and looked in to find Ares wide eyed and staring up at the ceiling. He was chattering silently, but Luxa couldn’t make any of it out. Ares shifted and his left wing uncurled so that it laid out across the floor. His other wing was crumpled up against him and the wall. Luxa went to say something, but Aurora got to it first.

“Ares, your wings. Pull them in.”

No movement.

“Ares we do not wish to step on you,” Luxa said.

Silence still. Luxa opened her mouth, but stopped when Aurora moved past her and into the room. She bounded into Ares, who reacted to the sudden weight falling into him by bringing his wings in suddenly. Aurora tried to flutter back, but Ares’s wings snared her. The two fliers struggled for a moments and then the room was full of spread wings. Aurora was thrown backwards and right into Luxa. Luxa was shoved back out into the hall. Narianne rushed over to her and kneeled beside her.

Luxa’s eyes were wide with shock. She had seldom seen Aurora in this state. Aurora was snarling as she fought to get passed Ares’s defenses. And Ares. Oh Ares was confused. Luxa crawled back over to the doorway and saw his entire body rippling with muscle, eyes wide and mouth open, but not snarling like Aurora.

Aurora got finally got through, and tackled Ares. Her claws sunk into his chest and she pushed her face directly into his. Ares’s wings stopped flailing about as Aurora growled menacingly from her positon.

“You pathetic beast!” Aurora screeched, “You would cause more pain in the way you behave. We mourned you, but there was shame as well. And hurt beyond words. So when we receive word of your light, we choose to hold out hope that the impossible may yet be true. And so it is! But at what cost?”

Ares did not react. Luxa remained where she was, very still, watching as Aurora went on.

“You lay here, practically rotting while others less fortunate than yourself lie still without choice. Their light has been extinguished, while yours remains!”

Ares twitched, face scrunching in anger.

“Less fortunate?” Ares’s voice was too quiet. It was hoarse and strangled, “What you consider less fortunate, I view as a curse.”

“You are ridiculous!”

“Am I? Why is it I lay here, when yet another of my bonds has perished? Would you be parted from yours so easily?”

“I do not know what occurred during the battle where you confronted the Bane,” Aurora sneered, “But the end result was his death. We believed you dead with him, but Gregor managed to survive, if only barely.”

Ares was quiet for a moment. Luxa walked into the room as the silence permeated the air. Nervous shuffling from behind revealed to her that Narianne was still near, but Luxa did not take her eyes off of the two fliers.

“So you say it as well. That Gregor is not dead,” His eyes shifted to Luxa. The pain and anguish there was near overwhelming, “And you. Earlier.”

Luxa swallowed hard and nodded, “He is alive, Ares. Ripred said he told you.”

“He did. I did not hold to hope that-”

“You have sulked long enough,” Aurora said and pushed off of him, fluttering backward and coming to a stop next to Luxa, “Speak to us now.”

Ares pushed himself up, avoiding their eyes the whole time. Luxa watched him, trying to understand how he must be feeling. But she could not imagine losing Aurora. Nor could she imagine what it must feel like to lose two bonds in such a short time, as Ares had believed. And then to waste away for years with that knowledge? The very idea was excruciating.

“Gregor lives… So it seems life has played yet another cruel joke on me,” The pain in Ares’s face shifted. Anger replaced it, “I have tossed and turned for so long, believing I had failed my one goal. And so it should be heartening to learn that the opposite is true. Yet I find myself wondering more and more lately, what exactly I have done wrong. Ripred appears before me and tells me you are on your way. And that Gregor lives. And that the Underland now enjoys peace.”

Aurora tensed beside Luxa. She place a hand on Aurora’s back, letting her bond know they were here together. Luxa was also afraid Aurora would attack Ares again. The endeavor had born fruit, but the means had been unpleasant and she was in no hurry to see her bond in such a state again.

“It occurred to me, at times, to wonder what I had done to deserve being abandoned by those who spent so much time convincing me I was not a waste of space. Until now, I had my answer. I understood, even if I was hurt by the thought,” He leaned his back against the stone wall, his gaze focusing on the place where his claw had been before the final confrontation with The Bane, “Now I am told my justification was ill-placed. And yet, I still can not bring myself to be disdainful. I have betrayed in the past, and so now am I facing betrayal in turn.”

Luxa raised her eyebrows. Of all of his responses, this was one she had not anticipated. Beside her, Aurora relaxed. She slumped as Luxa tightened her grasp on a patch of her fur. They were going through the same process right now, she could feel it.

“Ares,” Luxa said, “Ares, we thought you dead.”

“Your body was never recovered…” Aurora said, trailing off. That was true. In the confusing aftermath of the battle, many bodies had not been identified and most of them had simply been left in a mass grave. There had simply been too much to deal with in the weeks after, and by the time everything had settled down, the pits were too dangerous to approach. Luxa felt like that made it worse, somehow.

“I want to be left alone,” Ares said, “I feel weak.”

“You are weak because you have not flown,” Aurora said, her voice level, “You need to exercise your muscles.”

“I might, but for now I want to be left alone ,” Ares snarled. Aurora bared teeth, but returned no comment. She turned away and fluttered into the hall. Luxa clicked her teeth as she considered Ares. He caught her eyes and his expression softened for a moment. He averted his gaze in the next moment and turned to face the wall and sink into the bed.

Luxa, heart heavy, followed Aurora out. Aurora and Narianne were waiting for her. The expression of sadness on Narianne’s face bothered Luxa, but she couldn’t place why. Narianne gave a small smile.

“I did not wish to leave you for fear of being rude, but I did not wish to intrude on your business either. I could not help overhearing you, however,” Narianne fidgeted, “He has been here a long time I am told. The doctors will be pleased he has spoken as much as he has.”

“You do not have to be so diplomatic about it,” Luxa sighed. She was irritated by Narianne’s formality, but she was suddenly exhausted. at least with that, there was no mystery why.

“I must be. You are a queen, after all,” Narianne said, her back straightening a little.

Luxa gave the girl a look, but shook her head.

“I think it best to put aside our dinner plans,” Luxa said. Narianne nodded.

“That might be for the best. I can ask the doctors check on him more regularly. If he wants to move around a little,” Narianne said. Luxa smiled wearily.

“I will also be checking in regularly,” Aurora said loudly enough to Ares had to have heard her if he wasn’t sleeping. Narianne gave a genuine smile then and bowed her head to Luxa.

“Rest well, Luxa. And you, Aurora.”

Luxa and Aurora wished Narianne the same and headed for the tunnels that would lead them to the main cavern. They moved in silence for a minute, all of what just happened replaying in Luxa’s mind. Aurora’s fury and Ares’s anguish. Her own shame and confusion. But there was also joy at having finally made Ares talk to them. And a faint uneasiness about the way Narianne had acted afterwards.

She brought up that last one to Aurora.

“She did not seem different to me. Awkward, perhaps. On edge. I can not blame her for that,” Aurora said. Luxa nodded.

“Maybe.”

“That encounter was upsetting. It is best not to dwell on our perceptions while we are clouded so…”

“You wonder if you were too harsh with him,” Luxa said. Aurora bobbed her head up and down, “He will not think so after he has time to get his thoughts in order.”

“It is his thoughts that worry me,” Aurora said as the came out into the main cavern. She stopped and the two of them took a moment to look at the city below and around them, “He believes we should have looked for him. That we have betrayed him. He is right.”

“Hey now. What about not dwelling on these thoughts while we are clouded?”

“It is difficult,” Said Aurora and she offered her back to Luxa.

Luxa settled in and considered that. She thought about all of the confusing things happening around her. Ares’s situation and the council apparently discrediting her behind her back. New faces becoming more common, as with Narianne and, to a lesser degree, Saxon. Ripred running off to chase confusing leads about why Gregor was suddenly in contact with the Underland again. And she still could not think about what to write to him. But it was not all bad, she decided.

“Yeah,” Luxa said as Aurora leaped off and glided in the direction of their room, “It is difficult. But you are still here for me.”

“And you, for me,” Aurora purred. Luxa smiled and buried her face in the fur behind Aurora’s neck. She was very much ready for a nap.

Chapter Text

Gregor figured it would be pretty easy to orient himself once the journey got underway, but he was proven wrong almost right away. They had descended the stairs beneath the Central Park entryway and began heading in the direction Gregor knew the drop-off to the waterway was. But that was where things took a turn. The man who’d had him at dagger point before lead them further into the tunnels and then into a crevice wide enough for only one person to slide through, sideways, at a time.

Gregor thought about making his move then, before they got too far along a path he wouldn’t be able to retrace his steps back through. He was at a disadvantage, obviously, but he had before as well. He didn’t like the odds, hands bound and four to one, but he figured he could make it work since these guys were set against killing him.

But, he considered, he didn’t actually know that. Gregor had no clue what they wanted, except for his help. And ‘help’ for these people had included literally dying for them in the past. So really, what did he know? 

He knew that four underlander humans had left the underland and trekked across New York City to get to him, capture him, and enlist him to help them with something. It had to do with another potential war, too, which was crazy. Crazy because these people had to be nuts if they expected him to willingly help them after kidnapping him. 

Even if they had asked nicely, the last war had left him a husk of who he had been. He flashed back to sitting in that hospital bed after the final battle, looking down on his battered body with so little muscle and fat left that he could trace his arm bones and ribs. The physical memory was pathetic enough, but the rush of emotions he felt whenever he revisited that hospital room had woken him up from dead sleep before. The despair, and the desperation to distract himself with anything to avoid dwelling on it, was palpable as he shuffled along behind the man who’d held a sword to his family and behind the woman whose nose he’d broken.

It was real. He was in the underland again. And Gregor felt sick for it.

But he remained as stoic as he could. He would give these people nothing until he figured out what to do. He needed a plan, and fast. Gregor could feel the crevice they were moving through slope gently downward. The man at the lead called back that they were getting close and to be ready just in case. Just in case what?

Probably for anything that might want to kill them at the bottom of this thing. He thought about the serpents and the flesh eating mites during his second journey, or rats waiting to ambush them, or any number of creatures he had only ever heard of before. Buzzers came to mind. By the way they’d been described, they were bees or wasps or something. He did not want to run into something like that.

Ahead of him, the two men stepped out into open spacer. Gregor stepped out next and felt his feet crunch down on something. He stepped aside and his toes sunk into the stuff through his socks. Sand. Yup, so they were near water probably. How far down had they come? How long had it taken them? Gregor thought longingly about the watch Mrs. Cormaci had given him. How useful it would have been, in general, here. Where it sat, useless, on his bedside table. The watch was unfamiliar and it had seemed a small thing to take it off to sleep. 

“Silly me,” he thought sardonically, “guess I got too comfortable.”

They moved down a much wider tunnel for a few minutes before coming out into a cavern so large that Gregor could not make at the ceiling or any walls past a certain distance, even using echolocation. And judging by the water that also extended out past his perception, they could only be along the shore of the Waterway. The man and woman whose noses he’d broken disappear down the beach and into another tunnel. They reappeared a minute later leading a boat along with ropes. This boat was smaller than the ones they’d taken with them on his second prophecy, and lacked sails. Instead, the oars were much wider at the paddle and Gregor shuddered. They were going to row him all the way across the Waterway in this little thing? There were horrible things in these waters. Like giant squids and those serpents. Or that thing that was so much bigger than the serpents he’d seen when they were flying him back home after he’d rescued his dad. That had been right over this part of the water.

“Are we really going the whole way in this?” He couldn’t help himself from asking. The woman, who was nearest to him, shook her head

“No. We will go along the edge for some way and then into rivers where the current is not so strong.”

“Right… And where was it we’re going?”

The man in charge broke in, “We are taking you to the Fount. There is something there we wish for you to see there.”

“Cool,” Gregor was lead from the sand of the beach into the canvas of the boat. He was about to ask how he was going to help row with his wrists bound, but saw there were only four oars. Three of his captors took places at the oars while the large man kicked them off shore and took his place at the last. And so they began their journey.

Not having to row was fine with Gregor because now he could sit and think without the distraction of having to move through tight spaces. Now, though, he realized it was too late to do much of anything except wait.

What was the alternative anyway, he reasoned. Break these leather binds and kill four people, shimmy back up that crevice, go back out into Central Park, and get a cab home? “Don’t worry about me, mister cab driver, all covered in blood and having just murdered four humans deep below the city, could you just take me home to my family?”

Gregor felt like if he killed these people, getting back home would become the least of his worries. He would be sucked right back into his old self. He would relapse into someone who casually killed people to solve his problems. It had taken him a year to force himself to readjust comfortably after the war. And that, he always reminded himself, was a miracle. Plenty of people took many years to recover if they recovered at all. Now was not the time to kill wantonly.

So what then? The ideas ran dry, and that made him angry. Could he really only think about a plan that involved violence? There had to be other ways. He knew there were, because he’d come up with some in the past. Even down here. So there had to be something. A plan that got him what he wanted.

Okay. Next. What did he want? That was easy, he wanted to go home. But there was more, he realized. He wanted to go home, yes, but he needed to make sure these people wouldn’t just come back and try to steal him away again. He needed to make sure they didn’t bother his family. So he needed a plan that would get him all of that. He really wished he had Ripred right now. Ripred always had plans like that.

Ripred.

A image came to him then. A scene, really, of Ripred telling jokes and funny stories to the code team during the war. Ripred being charming and playing nicely with the only group in the Underland who could get him what he wanted most. Ripred could adapt to the situation in more ways than a few, and one of those ways had been the opposite of what the Underland default always seemed to be. Okay… That was a good start.

Gregor built his plan while his captors rowed. It must have been hours before they turned into a river like the woman had mentioned. It was slow going from there. More than once they had to tie the boat off on a jagged rock outcropping to take a break. Gregor thought it must have been back-breaking rowing against the river current. He didn’t imagine doing such a thing was common practice for these people. He wondered why they hadn’t brought fliers with them. 

But he kept his mouth shut, making sure to glare less and less at the others when they turned to check on him as time passed. He didn’t want them to think he was ready to be nice and forgiving so quickly. That would be too much of a giveaway. He didn’t know how much they knew about him past his exploits, so he didn’t take any chances.

Eventually, the river current stopped and the four of them rowed easily into a tall cavern that featured a tall column-like jut of rock that rose up about half the height of the cavern full. Water dripped down from the ceiling, some of it slowly from little unseeable cracks and some of it cascading from holes where weathering had done its job. He was damp by the time they pulled up and tied the boat off by the rocky ground. Gregor was helped out of the boat as the others stretched their tired limbs around him. He did, too, thankful to finally get some blood moving through his legs after so long in the boat.

Gregor looked around while the others began going through packs. He thought this little cavern was pretty neat compared to the otherwise dull and featureless tunnels and caverns of most of the Underland. He figured this cavern would make a great candidate for an Underland natural park like the ones he knew from the overland. Like The Grand Canyon in Arizona or The Arches in Utah.

With a flash of nostalgia, he remembered yelling at the Underlanders about how they should open a theme park after they had thrown Boots off the side of a cliff and called it entertainment. With some distaste, he remembered that it had been Henry specifically who had said that. He couldn’t even picture Henry’s face, anymore.

That alarmed him slightly, and he found himself going over the names of people he’d been close to before and picturing their faces. Mareth and Perdita. Andromeda, who was Mareth’s bond. Howard and Nike. Hamnet and Hazard. Vikus and even Solovet. He could bring back their faces with a bit of effort. Frill’s was the easiest, but Gregor didn’t think he counted that. She had been the only one of her kind he’d known and was strikingly hard to forget.

Others, though, were more difficult. Twitchtip’s face did not come easily. Hamnet’s was also fuzzy. Even Dulcet, who he’d seen regularly, wasn’t easy to remember. That upset him.

The contemplation was bittersweet. He was forgetting people who he had once considered as close as family. But that was his decision. He could not stay here. He would not stay here. Gregor felt his jaw tighten at the thought.

The woman crossed over to him and held up a waterskin, “Water,” She said and Gregor allowed her to hold it up to his mouth and pour a few mouthfuls of water for him.

“Thanks,” He said.

“Give it no thought,” She said, and drank from the skin herself.

The man whose nose Gregor had broken came over to stand with them and drank from the skin as well. Gregor looked between them and realized something. He found himself grinning.

“What is it?” The woman asked when she noticed.

“Nothing,” Said Gregor with a chuckle, “Just that we got the broken nose crew all hanging out together right here.”

The man looked mortified as he choked on some water, but the woman gave a nervous sort of laugh.

“Yes. We three might make an amusing sight to others,” She said.

Gregor grinned even wider and nodded. “Make them your friends, Gregor,” he thought, “Put these guys at ease and you’ll get what you want.”

“Warrior, I am sorry for the injury you received on my behest,” The man said, “ Only, you began to attack us-”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. We all did a number on each other…” Gregor stopped grinning then as he remembered the look on the woman’s face as he strangled her. He could feel the skin of her neck and the muscles convulsing in protest…

He opened his mouth to apologize himself when the two other men came over and the leader began to speak.

“Warrior, I am he called Callus,” The leader said, and the gestured to the large man beside him, “This is he called Corvus.” He gestured to the man and woman beside him in turn,  “This is he called Armin and she called Lissa.”

“Nice to finally know your names. I’m Gregor, but I’m sure you already know that,” Gregor said and look around at the four of them. Callus seemed nervous, like Lissa and Armin, but Corvus only snarled when Gregor caught his eye.

“Of course. Warrior, I-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Gregor cut in with irritation, “the Warrior is dead. He can’t help you people anymore. I’m what’s left and I don’t know how much help I can be for whatever you need me for.”

Callus looked confused for a moment and caught Corvus’s gaze before looking again at Gregor, “I do not know how to respond. Symbolically, yes, you killed the Warrior. I was at the surrender ceremony. But you live, and so there is no question of you capabilities.”

Gregor wanted to place his face into his hands and scream in frustration. But that wasn’t going to help his plan. Also, his hands were still bound. But gosh! He’d forgotten how straightforward these guys were.

“He means to say, Callus,” Said Corvus in a grumbling bass, “That he will not act as he has before with the prophecies in the past.”

Of course it was the guy who seemed to hate Gregor the most who understood what he was saying.

“Right,” Callus thought for a moment, “Only that is not my interpretation of what we have read. Warri- Overlander, I believe you still have a part to play.”

Gregor felt his blood run cold. His mood shifted in an instant. He forgot his plan as his brain ran laps to comprehend what Callus was implying.

“You aren’t about to tell me you found another prophecy, are you?” Gregor managed to say, despite the sudden cold anger threatening to break his countenance.

“No, I would not call it a prophecy. It is more a series of notes and essays written on parchment. Only, I do believe Sandwich wrote them. As such, I have poured over them with the reverence they deserve. They speak of dark tidings.”

Gregor could tell Callus sensed a shift in Gregor’s mood. Callus was stiff now. Defensive even. Gregor knew this was the opposite of what he should want, but he wanted to scream at the man. Only two other people knew that Gregor doubted the prophetic nature of Sandwich. No. One person. Gregor shook the thought away and focused. He had to maintain that image of a good, prophecy believing overlander. He forced a smile.

“Right. Well, Callus, it can’t hurt to hear you out.”

“You will help us willingly?” Callus seemed doubtful.

“I said I would hear you out. And then help if I can. But in return, you need to help me.”

He didn’t voice the suspicions he had thanks to the way Callus had worded that question. But it did confirm something he was thinking. Whatever was written on those pages was pretty bad. Scary enough that Callus believed he needed to kidnap Gregor and force him to return in order to secure his help. He didn’t think Gregor would help of his own free will.

Callus was silent for a minute, but he nodded his head eventually.

“What do you propose?”

“If I’m gonna be down here helping you, I need someone to get a note to my family saying that I’m safe. And guarantee they’ll be kept out of this. We’re going to the Fount right? Is York still in charge there?”

“Yes.”

“We’re friends. I’d like to talk to him and figure things out from there. Deal?”

Gregor thought that calling York a friend was just about the stretch of the century. He’d met the man a single time, and that had been in the midst of a desperate battle. He could count the number of words they’d exchanged on one hand apiece. Still, Callus nodded.

“This is fair. We have refrained from informing him of the writings until now. We thought having you there would help to legitimize our claims.” Callus clicked his teeth and then look at the boat on the water, “Come then. Let us finish our final leg. We are only hours from the Fount now. The sooner we begin, the better.”

Gregor wanted to collapse. He felt so tired and yet every bone in his body was restless. Someone cut through his binds and he turned to see Lissa smiling at him. Gregor rubbed blood back into his wrists and smiled in thanks, finding it hard to not look at the purple bruising starting to show around his neck.

“I will personally make sure that your letter reaches your family, Overlander. You showed much restrain when you had every reason not to, and so I owe this to you.”

Gregor frowned.

“You don’t owe me anything. I nearly choked you to death.”

“I am aware of your abilities. A rager sees red in battle. Killing me would have been peerless in its ease. And it would have been deserved, as well; I invaded your home. We threatened you and your family. You have been but a prisoner to us since we left your home,” Lissa bowed her head, “And yet you did not kill me. You fought your instinct and allowed my light to endure. I will see your letter to its destination, once you have written it.”

“Is that to your satisfaction?” Asked Callus as he approached. Lissa turned away and headed toward the boat. Gregor watched her go and then looked at Callus. This close, Callus looked as exhausted as Gregor felt.

Gregor nodded, feeling a little deflated. Callus smiled. It was small and tired, but genuine. Gregor couldn’t help but smile back. Gregor settled into the back of the boat, leaning back so that he was look forward and up at an angle. The others took their places at the oars as the boat pushed off. He suddenly felt like something was wrong, and found himself voicing his question before it had even formed in his head.

“What about Regalia?”

The others, save for Corvus, glanced back at him as they worked.

“What about it?” Asked Callus.

Gregor didn’t have a response. Every time he’d returned to the Underland, the first stop was generally Regalia. It was like a touchstone. But these people were not from Regalia. They were people of The Fount. And it was then that Gregor realized he’d never been to The Fount.

“Nothing…” He said, “What is the Fount like?”

Callus raised an eyebrow at him. When Gregor shrugged, Callus nodded and look foreward again.

“It is practical. It lacks the ornamentation and decoration of Regalia, save for the governing buildings. It sits on either end of a river, two sides connected by a single wide bridge and several smaller ones. And, though Regalia’s walls are high and strong, our defenses are nothing short of impregnable.”

Gregor leaned back in the boat and stared up at the darkness above. He imagined Regalia, but smaller and with a river running through it. He imagined carved buildings without ornate decorations. It painted a depressing picture, but he didn’t want to make assumptions. After all, the underland was almost entirely devoid of anything that wasn’t rocks and things that wanted to kill you. And that itself was depressing…

He closed his eyes. These thoughts weren’t doing him any favors. Once upon a time, he’d viewed this place with a certain wonder. A terrifying, uncertain wonder. But wonder nonetheless. Now he couldn’t find that wonder within him now. Had it been too long since he’d been here? Or was it the circumstance of his being back? He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he sorted through his thoughts. His company was silent and the only sounds was the boat as it moved with the splashing current and the crackling of the torches that lit their way.

He remembered the first time he walked around in the underland. Meeting Temp and the other crawlers. The terror and the awe at the size of the roaches, and how they discussed who they would bring them to in exchange for food. And the long walk to Regalia, where he would meet people he would become so intertwined with that he couldn’t imagine being separated from them.

Life was funny that way, and cruel, he decided as he let his mind drift away with the sound of the current.

Chapter Text

Gregor stood in front of a building that looked like any other around it. After sneaking across half the city, with what was basically a sack mean for grain thrown over him to hide him, Callus had finally lead them here. The building was nestled down on a level below the main bridge that ran through the middle of the Fount. It sat between a couple of warehouses and used a curtain for a door. Behind Gregor was the river and a path with no rail bordering it that lead to this little hidden away alcove.

Corvus took a seat on a basket nearby and picked up a net made of some sort of mesh. He began to weave metal rods into it, adding more mesh to the structure of the net. Callus lead the way in through the curtain, with Armin and Lissa following Gregor in after him. When Gregor asked about Corvus, Callus shrugged.

“Better to have someone outside blending in and keeping watch than to trust kids not to wander in looking for somewhere to explore.”

Gregor nodded as they moved down a hallway and through another doorway, this one curtainless. The floor began to slope downward and eventually the four of them came to a doorway with a door made of canvas similar to what the boats were made of.

“This door was once made of wood. Just another reason we believe the contents within were of severe importance. We rebuilt it using canvas. It has no lock like the Room of Prophecies within the palace of Regalia, but this makes it secure enough.” 

Callus ran a hand over the canvas, as if reassuring himself that it was, indeed, enough. He pushed it open and lead them all inside. Gregor frowned the moment he stepped across the threshold. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, sending a shiver down his spine. He took a few more steps inside before the buzzing at the back of his skull began.

The door slammed shut behind them and Gregor turned almost before it had finished shutting. He moved past Armin and Lissa, freeing Lissa’s sword from her in a single, fluid motion. Gregor naturally took a battle stance as his vision tracked the threat.

A tail cracked out toward his arm and he pulled back just in time to avoid being disarmed. He felt it rush by, stinging the back of his hand as it left a small cut behind in its wake. Gregor moved forward in the direction the tail had struck out from and saw a form bustle by. His sword followed after it. A moment later, he was laying on his back and his head felt like someone had split it with an ax. A weight settled on top of his and a familiar, ratty snout was shoved into his face. His rager senses faded in an instant.

“I come to your rescue and this is the thanks I get?” Said Ripred, “I suppose this is to be expected. You’ve always been ungrateful.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Gregor managed to get out, “Can I get up?”

“Oh, I’ll allow it. So long as you keep your sword to yourself. Or rather, other people’s swords,” Ripred moved off of him and Gregor stood up slowly. The ache in his head made him dizzy and he leaned against the wall to steady himself while he waited for it to pass. 

“You know,” Said Ripred, “I remember a time it took me only a single motion to disarm you. This time it took me at least half of a second one.”

“I’m getting better,” Said Gregor.

“More likely I’m getting old. Or you got lucky,” Said Ripred.

“Maybe both,” Gregor grinned weakly.

“Maybe. Maybe I’m going senile. I feel like we’ve had that interaction before.”

“We have,” Said Gregor, “When you ratted me out to Solovet to keep me out of that dungeon.”

“Oh yes. I revealed a delicious little secret of yours to sed secret’s grandmother. How quickly time passes.”

Gregor rolled his eyes, cringing at the memory of how childishly he’d reacted to that whole event. He started to say something else when he caught sight of the underlanders.

Lissa’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates and she was backed into one corner without a weapon to defend herself. Armin seemed resigned where he was leaned against a wall, disarmed, ready for his death via rat. Callus, to his credit, stood ready to fight. His sword was out and ready to go.

“Oh please,” Ripred turned to address them, “If I had wanted you dead you would be. Callus, you ought to know that well enough. Drop the theatrics.”

Callus sneered, remaining tense even as he dropped his fighting stance.

“I’m not so fond of gnawers sneaking about the places I consider safe,” He said.

“As you should be. But you are still very naive if you consider anywhere at all to be safe, especially given your recent activities” Ripred sneered back and got right up into Callus’s face, his tail snapping out and disarming the man easily. Gregor grimaced, prepared for whatever came next.

“You should be more careful when you move against me, Callus. Where is Corvus? Keeping watch, I imagine.”

“You lack imagination,” Said Callus.

Gregor found himself becoming impressed more and more with Callus as the scene unfolded. He had known very few people who could stand up to Ripred like this. And most of those people were dead now.

“Perhaps, but I’m not wrong. There’s no other way out of this building, so don’t even try running off. You aren’t without your uses, so you get to live. Corvus’s fate is yet to be decided.”

Ripred moved back past Gregor toward the door. He left without a word and Gregor wondered if he should follow. Everyone in the room was tense, but Callus turned away and began looking through stone shelves and compiling a pile of papers. Gregor watched him without saying a word.

Ripred poked his head back in a few minutes later and gestured for Gregor to join him. Gregor shrugged at a raised eyebrow from Callus and followed Ripred back outside. Corvus was nowhere to be found.

“Did you…”

Ripred shook his head.

“No. He must have run off. An unfortunate feature of the Fount is that a scent never lingers, thanks to this river. We played for too long inside. Gave him time to make a break for it.”

“Make a break for it?”

Ripred moved to where Corvus had sat making the mech net and sniffed around.

“He betrayed me. He’s done the smart thing, even if he doesn’t know it. May have slipped off as soon as he felt like he could. He might not even know that I know yet. Either way, I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again. I’ll need to grill Callus in order to know for sure.”

Ripred paced back over to Gregor, “Or he does know that I know he betrayed me. He’s left Callus, which tells us one of two things. Either he is using Callus to distract us from his betrayal or he thinks sacrificing Callus is a fine trade for his own life. What do you think?”

Gregor frowned, “I think that I have no idea what you’re talking about. You know Corvus and Callus? How did you find me so fast?”

“To the first, yes. Obviously. Not a hard solve, there, genius,” Ripred scoffed.

“To the second, I knew I was tracking a band of humans. Once I got to the stairway, I followed the scent to that spiraled path that leads to a beach. Assuming I was right, and that they moved you by boat,” He paused and Gregor nodded, “There is no way of approaching Regalia by water without being seen by scouts. So that made my choice easy. I tried sending a coded message to Corvus, received a response from someone pretending to be him, knew that he was pals with Callus and that Callus had been speaking to a small group about those writings in there. The pieces seemed to fit. I only arrived a couple of hours before you all, actually.”

Gregor’s mouth was open, a hundred questions fighting to be voiced. Only one made it out, “What do you mean you sent him a coded message and someone pretending to be him responded?”

“Right,” Ripred sighed and his ears twitched, “I didn’t really fill you in on anything the other night.”

“To be fair, I didn’t really wanna hear it then.”

“And do you now?” Ripred said, and Gregor shrugged. Ripred began to pace.

“So to make it short, I’ve gathered up a couple dozen individuals who help me keep an eye on things around the Underland. You might consider them a sort of spy ring, although only a few of them do any spying. We try to keep tensions between the species from getting too hot. We don’t want any escalations.”

“You’re peacekeepers,” Said Gregor.

“Ignoring that,” Ripred narrowed his eyes, “The point is that I have someone working against me. A few someones, it turns out. Corvus was kind enough to screw up and try to pass his co-conspirator off as him. The great thing about doing this for so long is that I can pretty easily tell when a gnawer is scratching to me instead of a human. The idiot. I know, at the very least, he’s undermining me. That’s as good as betrayal in my book.”

“But you,” Ripred continued, “You seemed to be walking about of your own will in there. What’s the story there?”

“That guy, Callus, said something about Sandwich writing something else. Those papers. Mentioned it concerned me, maybe. He asked for my help and I said I would.”

“You’re kind-hearted, boy, but I refuse to believe you would just agree to that without some sort of incentive.”

“Well, yeah. I told them they needed to let me talk to York. Then I figured I could try and work something out to get him to get them off my back so I could go home and not have to worry about being kidnapped in the middle of the night again.”

Ripred grinned wide and slapped his tail on the ground a couple of time.

“Lizzie was right, though I can hardly believe you thought it through that far ahead. Miracles do happen!”

“Wait, what?”

Ripred stretched and made himself comfortable against the building, “I visited your family around the time we were supposed to meet up like we planned. Got the information I needed from them and let them know I was going to take care of everything. Your mom was not very happy about me showing up, let me tell you.”

No, Gregor couldn’t imagine she was. He wanted to ask about them, but wondered if Ripred might mock him for bringing it up. But he was wrong.

“They’re fine. I mean, as fine as they can be. I think knowing I’m after you helped Lizzie and your father, at least. And maybe the little ‘princess’, as well, if she’s unlucky enough to recall my reputation.”

“Thanks…” He said and looked back to the curtain that lead into the building, “Did you know about the writings? What they say?”

“Do you really care?”

“Sort of,” Gregor said, “I don’t really believe in what that guy writes, but knowing that there was more than we thought would have been a nice heads up.”

Ripred watched him for a minute while Gregor pretended to trace an outline of something on the stone wall.

“You’re right. I should have mentioned it. But I thought I had things handled better than that. Callus doesn’t work for me, but he is well known for his clever mind. I always found his adoration of Sandwich to be off-putting, and that’s why he doesn’t have a place in my group. I never would have thought he would go so far as to kidnap you. But hey, after this fiasco I think he’s earned a place in my group. I can keep a better eye on him that way. What do you think?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Ripred didn’t answer. His eyes bored into Gregor for a long while. Gregor got the distinct impression that Ripred was working out a way to ask him something. And Gregor thought he might know what that was. When Ripred did speak, finally, Gregor was ready for him.

“I’ll level with you, Gregor. Something feels wrong to me. But it has nothing to do with whatever was written by whoever in that room. That doesn’t concern me, and frankly I don’t think it concerns you. I’m dealing with real problems, and across way too vast a distance to manage it myself. I’m short of people I know I can trust.”

“I want to ask you for your help. You may deny me. Stay here. I’ll arrange a get-together with York and Callus and we’ll interpret whatever the hell Callus found in a way to get you out of any potential destiny fueled obligations. I’m actually pretty good at that, you know. Pushing the meaning of those things to mean what I need them to mean.”

Ripred got up and stood eye level with Gregor.

“Or you can follow me into that room and you can once again get yourself involved with someplace that you owe nothing to.”

Gregor frowned at that.

“I owe this place plenty. You know that. Sure it messed me and my family up. But most of it was just circumstance. We’re better off now, I think, for it. Some of us anyway,” He thought of how confident Lizzie had become and how much closer the whole family was now, “Callus is desperate. I can’t blame him for doing something he believes would save what he loves.”

“Is that a yes?” Ripred raised an eyebrow.

Gregor clenched his jaw and ground his teeth.

“I don’t need your help this time. I’m only asking for it. Say no, and you go home. Simple as that.”

Gregor turned away and watched the water rushing past. He considered what accepting meant. It would mean being away from his family again and leaving them to suffer and wonder whether he would return home. It would mean traversing this horrible, dark hole in the ground without Ares. It would mean killing again, almost guaranteed.

But he would get to see Luxa again. And his friends. He would get to see Howard and Temp and Aurora. Mareth and Andromeda and Perdita. He really would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit the idea was tempting. But being home was important. He couldn’t bare to think of his parents sitting up at night worrying about him.

But then there was Corvus. Someone who was willing to cross Ripred for some reason. Gregor thought it had to be a pretty good reason for him to cross someone as dangerous as Ripred. That was a scary thought. Ripred could help him get out of everything, But Gregor wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing someone like that was running around. No. He’d have to make sure he and his family would be okay.

Better his parents worry about him than another party show up to kidnap him. They might be less merciful toward his family the second time. The thought made him shudder. 

And Ripred. He had tracked Gregor down. Ripred had come to check on him when he thought Gregor was in trouble. He’d been ready to leave Gregor alone after he got the information about the rock being used for the messages. And now, he was giving Gregor a choice. A real choice. 

Gregor threw his arms out to either side of him and turned back to look at Ripred.

“Are you worried about a war starting?”

“Yes,” Ripred said without hesitation. Gregor groaned, “Corvus despises gnawers. I thought including him might convince him peace was worthwhile. But he went out and helped kidnap you. So I have to wonder at his end game.”

“Helping you will stop that from happening?”

“No guarantee. But that’s the goal,” Ripred gave him a significant look, “That’s always the goal.”

“Right.” Gregor ran a hand through his hair.

“Damnit. Yeah,” He turned to look at Ripred, “Yeah. I’ll help you then. Underlanders kidnapped me from my home, so something big has to be happening. And if they were willing to do it, whose to say other, more dangerous people won’t try, too? I’ll help. But this will probably be the last time.”

“Probably,” Ripred said and nodded in agreement, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. With these new developments, going home now isn’t going to guarantee your safety. I have a feeling that when I ask Callus about it, Corvus will be the mastermind behind your kidnapping. Your family wants you home safe, but what ‘safe’ means is ultimately up to you.”

“What do you need me to do anyway?” Gregor asked

“Want ,” Ripred reminded pointedly, “My original plan was to run straight back to Luxa’s side. I don’t particularly care having left her with one less obstacle to killing her in a foreign land.”

Gregor’s stomach churned at the mention of Luxa’s name and then sunk like a bag of rocks at the mention of someone trying to kill her. But that last part. Foreign land.

"What do you mean by foreign land?"

Ripred stopped short of continuing and ran a paw down the side of his face, "Right. We found another city way far to the south. Beyond our maps. Hard to get to and there is very little between there and the Dead Lands."

"A whole other- Ripred what?"

"There isn't time! I'll give you the details later. Right now, all you need to know is that there is a lot of strain on Regalia and, as it happens, me."

Gregor's head swam with a thousand questions, but Ripred kept going.

“I have other things to deal with now, recent events having unfolded. I’d like to ask you to go to her in my stead,” Ripred ran a claw over his chest, “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really expect anything will happen to her specifically. But I’ll be able to focus on my other tasks more comfortably knowing you’re there.”

“She can take pretty good care of herself. And Aurora’s with her.”

“Aurora, bless her soul, isn’t much of a fighter. Few fliers are. Do I really need to remind you of the politics and strategic value behind the humans and fliers being allies? Get a grip,” Ripred snarled and grunted as he shifted his weight, “And Luxa being able to take care of herself is beyond reproach. That girl is a ‘once in a millennium’ kind of leader. However, as well off in a fight as Luxa is, even she can’t deny that when it matters you outmatch her and, by consequence, any hypothetical assailant.”

“Right. Rager,” Gregor put his hands in his pockets and turned to watch the water churning into a white foam against the smooth rocky walls. He felt Ripred watching him and knew it was no use hiding anything he was thinking or feeling from the rat. The bastards could smell emotion, after all.

“Do I have to waste my breath asking you?” Ripred said, proving Gregor’s silent griping true.

Gregor tapped at his thigh inside his pocket. He became very aware suddenly that he was still in his pajamas. And he was wet. And he was cold.

“I’m scared, okay.”

“But not about playing bodyguard.”

It was a statement.

“No.”

Gregor couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at Ripred. It was such a silly thing to suddenly feel so self-conscious after the heavy conversation that just took place. Not to mention the curve ball of Luxa being in what was basically the Underland version of another country. A lot of weight was settling on Gregor now that he had willingly agreed to stay. 

He heard Ripred crack his back as he straightened up for a stretch. Ripred grunted as he fell back to the ground and shook himself.

“Two years isn’t as long as you think it is. Not when you’re as young as you are. No, two years becomes a long time when you reach my age and every month that passes gives you a new muscle or bone ache to remind you that its nearly time to lay down and die.”

Gregor snorted and finally turned to look at the rat. He really was starting to look old. Gregor was surprised he could even tell, but he had seen plenty of rats in their prime during his time here.

“I want you to go. Just keep an eye on her. The place is cushy, you’ll love it. It’s the very image of what Vikus has always wanted for our part of the world. He’s there, too, by the way. Hope that doesn’t change your mind.”

Gregor managed a grin.

“Right. So, what’s the plan?”

“First thing’s first, I’m going to get my hunch proven right by Callus. Then we’ll let him take us to York and decipher those writings in a way that will convince them you’re needed at Luxa’s side,” His eyes narrowed, “Then I’m going to smoke out some traitors and find out how big of a stain there is on my little group. And try to track down Corvus before he causes any more trouble…”

Ripred trailed off. He seemed to decide something and straightened up, “Anyway. There’s something you should know. Now that you’re going to be heading to Petras.”

“What’s that?”

Ripred closed the distance between them and leaned back onto his haunches, his tail twitching as he placed a paw on Gregor’s shoulder. Gregor fought a screaming gut instinct to tear himself away from the contact as the rat continued.

“Ares is alive.”

Gregor’s mind struggled to process the words. He felt like his body was being poked by a thousand little pins and a rush of warmth through his body stopped his shivering. His vision blurred as he lost focus of what was in front of him. What had Ripred just said?

“Hey. You in there?” Ripred said, snapping his tail so that it cracked. Gregor’s eyes refocused and zeroed in on Ripred.

“What did you just say?” It was barely a whisper.

“Ares. Surely you remember your bond? Thought dead by the teeth of our old friend Pearlpelt. Yeah. Alive. And in Petras, somehow. That's their big city. Their Regalia.”

Gregor felt his legs begin to shake only moments before they gave way entirely. He fell backward into a seated position. His breathing was coming shorter and shorter.

“Hey. Come on kid, this isn’t a time to be having an anxiety attack.”

Was that what was happening? He definitely didn’t feel like he was getting enough oxygen. But he was several miles below the surface of the planet. How was there so much oxygen down here anyway? When there weren;t any trees. Maybe the vines in the jungle did that work. 

His dad would know. Or if he didn’t, he would find the question interesting. Maybe even interesting enough to come down here and test out the theory. Gregor would like that very much. He’d love his dad to be here because his dad always knew what to say or what to do. He was that sort of man again and he would know what to do about this.

About the bomb that Ripred had just forced down his throat and detonated.

“Uh,” Gregor managed, “I think I need a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute. Best thing for you right now is to work through this. You’ll have plenty of time to freak out on the flight to Petras. Right now, I need you to focus on me. Focus on what we need to do.”

“Ripred,” Gregor said, feeling dizzy, “Ripred you just told me that Ares isn’t dead. How? When did you find out?” He frowned, “Why didn’t you tell me when you were in the Overland?”

“You said it yourself. You weren’t interested in hearing updates about us,” Ripred said.

“If you had told me that, I would -”

“You would have what? Followed me back into the Underland right then and there? Thrown everything you’ve built for you and your family out the proverbial window because someone from your past turns up alive?”

Gregor considered that. Ripred wasn’t wrong. He wouldn’t have done that. Gregor couldn’t imagined what he would do if this news had been given to him in his bedroom. Run out and tell his family that he was going back to the Underland because Ripred, who was in his room, just told him his friend was alive? There would have been a fight. His mom would freak out and two years worth of recovery and progress would go down the drain.

“No. You moved on. You were doing well for yourself and I didn’t want to hammer a thorn into that progress by turning up and pulling a tablecloth from under your feet. I might have thought different if we all lived on the same horizontal plane, but we don’t. I deemed it counter-intuitive. But now you are fully entangled in our affairs once again and you’ll either hear it from me now or find out for yourself in a few days.”

Ripred moved toward the door and looked back over his shoulder at Gregor, “Now, do I have to explain every action I take to you or are we going to get to work. The sooner we finish here, the sooner you get on your way to a glorious and joyous reunion.”

Gregor swallowed hard, but got to unsteady feet and wobbled in place for a few seconds. He nodded and took a few deep breaths. Ripred was right.

“Good. Let’s get this over with.”

Ripred disappeared into the building. Gregor followed, stopping at the doorway and looking back at the mesh netting Corvus had been adding to earlier. Gregor didn’t know anything about the man, except that he had been rude and abrasive. He’d been smart, or at the very least not deluded enough, to believe Gregor would just help them like he’d always done where prophecies were concerned.

His bucking legs steadied. If it was true, then his decision to help Ripred was even more justified. There was war to prevent and old friends to tie up loose ends with. And at the end of it he could leave knowing that his friends were alive and safe, and that his family would not be threatened again, and that he’d stepped up to make that happen. It was time to get to work.

Gregor pushed the curtain aside, and stepped into the building.

Chapter Text

Ares was alive.

Luxa smiled as she and Aurora watched Ares moving slowly through the physical therapy course. A trio of human nurses were helping him along while a gnawer and human doctor watched from a desk against one side of the room. Ares, for his part, was doing great. He stumbled here and there, but that was the exception to his efforts, by some miracle. That he could move himself around at all was incredible

“He recovered with great ease after falling ill with the plague,” Aurora said.

“His strength is surpassed only by his will. He only forgot that truth,” Luxa ran a hand through Aurora’s downy fur, “He is remembering now.”

When she and Aurora had arrived to find Ares’s room empty that morning, fear had gripped them. But it wasn’t long before Luxa extracted an answer from a passing nurse, who told her where he was with a big smile. Now all Luxa wanted to do was smile and stand here watching Ares stumble his way to the light once again.

But she had made another promise for the day.

As if on cue, Narianne arrived in the observation room. She wore a smile that somehow outshone her previous smiles, and it grew brighter still when she saw Ares in the course room. She practically skipped the rest of the way to them, and only took her eyes off of Ares to look at Luxa.

“How wonderful!” She said, doing her level best not to shout the words. The obvious effort made Luxa laugh. Aurora shook as well, a smile playing off the bat’s face.

“We should postpone today,” Said Narianne, “Bring our lunch here.”

Luxa shook her head, “Ares is in good hands. I am sure he wishes not to have an audience while he works. And we may not get another day like this before I leave. I wish to see these floating rocks you speak of.”

Narianne had taken them to a few spots around the tunnels and caverns surrounding Petras. There was a cavern full of lakes, where the bottoms shone a bright green on and off like a heartbeat. Further out was a cliff that overlooked a mossy field much like the ones their cattle grazed on back home, except the moss was red instead. Narianne said it was great for making dyes, but that it was toxic to consume. There had also been spouts of water, scalding hot to the touch that took half a day of flying to reach.

But she had been worried for Ares all those other times. She felt like this time she could properly appreciate what they were going to see. 

“Of course. It is not often Saxon cancels the daily proceedings…” a frown replaced Narianne’s smile for a moment as she considered that. Luxa watched her face shift while Narianne watched the course room without focus. But Narianne shook her head and smiled again.

“Right then. I have asked the council kitchens for a basket to be prepared for us. I will fetch it and meet you in the courtyard.”

When she left, Luxa looked at Aurora with a raised eyebrow.

“That was odd,” Aurora agreed.

“But she is also correct that Saxon is not the type to cancel such meetings lightly.”

“Perhaps Vikus knows more than we about it.”

Luxa frowned at that, crossing her arms across her chest.

“It might be worth asking her opinion as well,” Said Luxa.

“You must weigh it against an afternoon away from politics. She may not find such topics agreeable.”

“Only one way to find out. Let us go,” Luxa hesitated before leaving, looking back through the glass at Ares. His face turned up to look at them. He bobbed it, expression neutral. Luxa forced a smile and turned away. She hated leaving him. But his friends had given him the necessary push. Now it was up to Ares to show her and Aurora how much he wanted to return to them.

Before long, Aurora was flying them past the city outskirts. The long basket-shaped cavern was capped at the far end by a tall wall, though carved building continued to sprawl out past that wall for several minutes of flying. Luxa had seen all of this during flights she’d taken with Aurora, but seeing buildings outside of the protective walls was so extraordinary she found herself looking down at them every time.

Today, however, they flew past the buildings and out to the farmlands. These expanded out for miles around, and for miles more along lower caverns inaccessible to comfortable flying. Luxa mostly watched the fields pass by below. Sometimes a farmer would raise a hand and wave at them.

“They are so relaxed. They are beyond the protection of the wall, but they sow their fields without a care,” Luxa could not help commenting on it. Narianne only laughed.

“They would have warning if someone attacked; We have guard posts stationed on the far edges of the fields. There are always multiple guards stationed there,” She said, “But I get what you mean. Here, in this region, the people are lax. They fear little. They simply mean to pass along their good moods by waving.”

“Or perhaps it is a lovely little distraction from an otherwise tedious job,” Aurora purred. Luxa grinned as Narianne laughed in agreement. They were all in high spirits today, and if Aurora felt good enough to make jokes then Luxa felt good enough to put her worries behind her for a time.

Narianne set about guiding them through tunnels and caverns that would lead them to their destination. They passed the lakes with the glowing green lights at the bottom and headed up a sharp ascent for some time before leveling out. Narianne pointed to a ledge framed by stalactites and stalagmites.

They dismounted and Luxa noted the unusually high amount of loose rock in the area. Narianne made of show of going through the rocks, shining her torch over them as if inspecting the color closely. Luxa frowned, watching her.

“It has to be the right kind…” Narianne muttered as she sifted through a pile. She made a sound of success and held up a smooth rock about the size of her fist.

“This should do very well.”

Narianne walked over the the edge and held her hand out into the darkness. Luxa realized she could not see any indication of the void past this ledge ending. However, the brief sense of smallness she felt from that paled to what she felt when Narianne let the rock go.

It floated. The rock was just floating there, spinning slowly.

“Now that is something,” Aurora said, moving to look closer.

“How does it do this?” Luxa asked.

“No idea. But one of our own discovered it can be used to orient yourself in a direction. If you take rock like this and scrape it on metal, you can place it in water and it will point north.”

Luxa remembered something from another lifetime ago. A short conversation she must have overheard. Gregor speaking to his father about lodestone. Magnetic rocks. She had not even known she had that memory.

When she brought it up to Aurora, he bond was also surprised, “Yes, I remember. Not well, but I am surprised you remember it at all.”

“Was that during one of your adventures with the overlander boy?”

Luxa had mentioned the prophecies to Narianne, who had expressed some interest in the subject. She was also taken with the idea of their adventures in the efforts of solving them. Though this particular story was still hard to tell, so Luxa only smiled and nodded.

“It was a long time ago. I think I remember more about the week that followed than I do of any moment of that quest.”

“It must have been exciting, getting to travel around and face danger like that.”

Luxa reached out and spun the rock so that it rotated faster and moved her hand over the top and bottom of it. She wanted to ignore the comment. But she had questions of her own she wished to ask. So Luxa moved over to the picnic basket and began to unfold the blanket, “Exciting? For parts. Though I mostly recall walking great distances through tunnels leaky with sulfuric water,” Luxa grimaced, “It was actually quite dull.”

Narianne moved over to help and the two of them spread the blanket out near the rocky frame, the rock still spinning in place. Aurora settled onto the blanket first and set about removing dishes from the basket for them, “Quite dull,” Aurora agreed.

“I would not be keen to repeat much of it,” Said Luxa, “But there were moments…”

Luxa smiled as the memory of Hazard’s party from that year. That had been a shining month in an otherwise dark year. There was sadness associated with it, but that day, if removed from the events that followed in the weeks after, had been something special.

She spoke of that, now, and filled in when Narianne asked questions. Luxa found it easier to talk of these memories. She even gave the necessary background on Hamnet when Narianne asked about Hazard. Thoughts of her Uncle were painful, but tolerable compared to those of her cousin.

“I do not believe we have ever had a halflander among us here,” Narianne said during a lull in the conversation, “We have had a couple of overlanders in the past, but not within my lifetime. Or my father’s,” She paused there for a moment before continuing, “Saxon may have been alive for the most recent one.”

“They are extremely uncommon,” Luxa said with a nod, tucking away that reaction for use later, “We have hosted several overlanders in Regalia in the last twenty years according to Vikus, but there has only been one halflander in recent memory.”

“I have never considered an underlander and an overlander having a child before,” Narianne said, “That it is possible is not in question. The decision must have been complicated for your uncle’s partner.”

“Perhaps. He did not speak of her much before he died. He did not have the chance to. But I think it must have been fairly circumstantial,” Luxa said, “they met in a vast jungle of vines. However she came to be there, it must have been next to impossible for her to return…”

Narianne nodded and Luxa was glad that she took a big bite of a loaf of bread. She gathered herself, happy to change the subject to anything else. But she did have one in mind. One that she felt she could try and broach now.

“Earlier,” Luxa said, “You seemed to have a thought while considering Saxon canceling the meeting today.”

“I only thought it was odd. As the Head of Assemblies, Saxon has the final say on meetings. He has not called one off since… Well, since some nasty business involving the colonies some years ago.”

That struck Luxa as something worth pursuing. She took a quick bite of some pudding to allow Narianne to prepare for questions and started after swallowing.

“You have mentioned that living there was rough.”

“Yes. Supplies are hard to come by without support from one of the cities. And some of the settlements on the frontier are so disconnected from life here that they may as well be on their own anyway,” Narianne said, playing with some greens in a small bowl, “But this was different.”

“Different how?”

Narianne was silent for a while. It was long enough that Luxa started to consider the pros and cons of asking again when Narianne spoke up.

“My father was the representative for the settlement I grew up in, Roge. I believe I have mentioned it?” She continued when Luxa nodded, “He, unlike many of the other representatives, did not spend most of his time in council meetings. He spent most of his time advising settlement mayors and the governor for that region.”

Narianne positioned herself so that she was leaning back against the wall, “He felt that Petras and Atlas were too out of touch with the realities of living beyond city walls. There is plenty of danger that plagues our lands. There are large creatures that stalk the tunnels on our easternmost borders. And the Gnawer kingdoms in the west sometimes make claims of our lands and try to occupy them. But there are also bands of rogues and brigands that move about between settled areas. They are too small to ever dare make a move against Petras or other large cities. So they prey on the settlements.”

Luxa and Aurora watched her, transfixed by the idea of underlanders moving about settlements and generally being a menace. Regalia had dealt with rebellions before, and some very recently, but the harshness of the underland had generally kept her people together if only for survival’s sake.

“My father decided that Petras in particular needed to readjust its priorities. And so he raised a group large enough to challenge Petras. He staged a coup, and very nearly succeeded. He only failed because Saxon talked him down. They were friends, and Saxon had just taken the seat of Head of Assemblies the previous year. They talked about setting things right.”

“But people were dead. And somebody had to be put to justice. The only reason my father was not killed was because Saxon pleaded his case to the others. When that failed, my father fled. I have not seen him since then. It is thanks in large to Saxon that myself and my uncle were allowed to replace him as representatives.”

“How long has it been?” Luxa asked.

“Ten years.”

Luxa leaned into Aurora, who wrapped one wing around her in response. Her own parents had left her around the same time.

The mood had become properly somber then, but Narianne smiled anyway. Her smile was brighter than the torches that lit the area around them.

“I have killed the cheer with my story. Let us share happier tales from here on,” Narianne said, reaching for and biting into a sandwich Luxa had showed her how to make. Luxa gave a small smile of her own and nodded, fishing for whatever she could find to share.

By the time they were flying back toward Petras, Luxa thought she understood the city better and why she felt bothered by it. Petras was a city removed from the danger its population beyond the walls suffered. Safe, they could ignore the harsh reality of the underland. Because the underland was dangerous. It was something Luxa learned at a young age. And she was glad for the reminder today.

Flying over the city, after dropping Narianne off, Luxa felt a strange sense of foreboding. As Aurora angled in to land on their balcony, she wondered how much of the friendliness she was being shown was for her benefit and how much of it was genuine. She thought again of how readily Vikus had grasped onto the way of life here.

She settled into bed, pulling a the blanket up over her and listened to Aurora’s breathing from nearby. The familiar rhythm lulled her into a sleepy haze and she found herself wishing Ripred were there with her now. The rat was a pain at the best of times, but his insight was invaluable. But he was checking up on Gregor, at her own request. As she drifted off to sleep, feeling a bit selfish, she thought it would be nice if when Ripred returned that Gregor would be with him as well.

Chapter Text

Gregor should have felt ecstatic. He should have felt joy. Wasn’t that how you reacted? When you learn someone you love, who you thought was dead, was alive? Movies seemed to think so. But mostly, he just felt normal. Maybe even a little upset.

Ripred hadn’t brought it up, but Gregor knew the rat could tell he wasn’t doing well with the information. Not poorly, but definitely not well. But Gregor could pay attention, so instead of dwelling on the fact that he’d just been told his best friend wasn’t dead, he was readily partaking in the conversation he found himself in with Ripred, Callus, and York. And, with a fresh set of clothes, he at least wasn’t cold doing it.

“The writings are, clear as crystal, written by Sandwich himself,” Callus said. He withdrew several scrolls from a bag and set them onto the long stone slab of a table that sat in what was used as a war room when needed, “The writing style and prose are a near perfect match to the carved prophecies in Regalia.” 

York rubbed his chin, steely gaze watching Callus. The man was tall enough to make professional basketball players envious and was built like a truck, rippling with muscles. Gregor had never seen York outside of a combat zone, but even in a casual setting, he was intimidating.

His voice, which Gregor recalled as coarse and booming, was surprisingly calm. It was still low and bassy, though “Pages and pages of these writings are nothing more than a stream of consciousness. Whoever so wrote them, they come off mad rather than prophetic.”

“Some of it is kind of catchy, though,” Said Gregor, picking up a page and reading it, “ And so, And so, And so, Says I. Seek out, Keep Watch, The end is Nigh.”

“Yes. Catchy,” Ripred’s eyes rolled. Gregor smirked, “Sandwich was nothing if not catchy.”

York only frowned, but Gregor wasn’t sure if it was because he had started reading something indecipherable or because he didn’t know what they meant by catchy.

“I believe that if we have the scholars study these, we can make sense of them,” Callus insisted.

Gregor reached out to pick up another page and frowned down at it. It was just a bunch of drawings of bats and roaches and moles. His stomach turned at the thought of Sandwich drawing moles, a race he'd probably thought he had driven to extinction. Still, Callus’s case was not looking good. The pages were more of a mess than Gregor had assumed.

Most of them only had a few discernible lines amidst scratched-out sections.

“Maybe…” Gregor said. They were supposed to be cautiously supportive of Callus, per Ripred’s instruction. But Gregor was worried. They were working with so little. Most of it made no sense. If Ripred felt the same, it was well hidden. He casually flicked a page off the table with his tail. Callus scrambled after it, giving Ripred a nasty look that the rat ignored. Gregor wondered how Ripred could spin this stuff into something that worked to their advantage.

They spent hours mulling over the pages, reading into phrases, and connecting dots where possible. But after a while, Gregor saw Ripred shake his head at a page with one word scrawled onto it; Regalia. Footsteps echoed down the hall and got louder until they stopped outside the room. Gregor looked up from a page and watched a young woman enter the room.

“Governor, your son has just arrived. Shall I send word to your family?”

“He has arrived safely then. I am glad,” York set a page down and hit them all with a grin, “Please see that the family is informed, Ada. Thank you." He turned again to the group, "We can break for supper.” 

York held a hand up to Callus, who’d started to protest, “I will invite the scholars to have a look at these writings. I, myself, am not well suited to this work, and, although I do not wish to speak for them, neither Ripred nor Gregor here seems as keen on deciphering the specifics of these pages as you are.”

“Not so keen to do it myself, but as eager to see it done,” Grumbled Ripred, “Either way, I’ll have to pass on sampling your hospitality today, York. Your family is lovely, truly, but I have business to attend to.”

“I will have something packed for you then,” Said York. Ripred shook his head.

“No, I have a lot of running to do. Making food taste incredible is about the only good thing humans have ever done for the Underland, but none of it sits so easily as a couple of freshly caught fish.”

York made a sound that could have been a shout or a laugh, “What about you, Gregor? Will you join us?”

Gregor clicked his teeth, hoping the page he was suffering through might have something worthwhile. But it didn’t, so he sighed and set it down, “Where are you even going?” He asked Ripred first.

“Does it matter?”

“I may want to tag along,” Gregor said.

“You could,” Ripred nodded, “But unless you have the speed and stamina of a rat, I would advise against it. And you won’t be riding on my back.”

“I ran track in school,” said Gregor.

“Oh my? Really? Well, that’s egg on my face then, isn’t it,” Ripred scoffed and shouldered past him, “Have York set you up with a flier eager to see Petras. And get an escort. Just a couple of flier-human pairs, nothing too grand. I don’t want to advertise you to the Underland anymore than you already have been.”

“What is this?” York asked, but Callus raised an even louder objection.

“You would send him so far away as Petras? What if the prophecy is deciphered while he is away and needed here?”

Ripred turned to face Callus, and Gregor thought he’d bite the man’s head off, but he was wrong.

“Consider what you’ve already deciphered. The writing you had already deciphered mentions another land. Right there, see? That is very clear to me. You may have lied about the overall quality of this mess, but that makes sense.” Ripred's tail tapped on a page penned with several paragraphs of legible writing. The page did mention a ‘City of stone to rival Regalia’.

“Would it not be wise to send the Overlander to the city that rivals Regalia? After all, it’s the only page we can reliably decipher here.”

Callus glanced down at the page and considered that for a moment. Gregor, for his part, felt rather impressed that Ripred could make such a bold claim about so little. But that was what he’d been hoping for.

“The writings do mention Queen Luxa,” Callus said. Gregor felt his mouth go dry. 

Ripred nodded sagely, "Yes, it does. Consider also that it may have been Sandwich's intention to include that page amidst so much detritus so that our attention would be drawn to it?"

Gregor raised both eyebrows. He almost believed Ripred himself. That was pretty impressive, and he wondered if the rat had pulled it out of the air on the spot or had been holding it in reserve just in case. Callus, for his part, also seemed blindsided by that possibility and remained silent.

“So my plan presently is to send Gregor here to Petras so that he can be near lovely Queen Luxa. Perhaps he is meant to protect her from some danger we haven’t perceived yet, hmm?”

“That does make some sense,” York said. Gregor jumped, having forgotten for a moment that the man was still there, and looked up at him. York was pensive, pondering the meaning behind Ripred’s interpretation.

“It's settled then," Ripred clapped his paws together and crossed over to Callus, where he slapped his tail onto the table, right on top of Callus’s hands. Callus paled, “Before I go, I’d like to discuss a few things with you. Starting with how often you’ll report to me about what you and the scholars interpret.”

He turned to Gregor, “When you get to Petras, give the queen my apologies for not returning with you. I’m sure she’ll be devastated by my absence.”

Gregor grinned, “I’ll do that.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“How?”

“You’ll see. Trust me.”

Gregor wanted to ask more but decided that Ripred was being cryptic on purpose and not just for fun. York was still listening, and Ripred didn’t seem as forthcoming about some things with the man as he’d been with Gregor.

“Alright. See you around then,” Gregor said. Ripred rolled his eyes.

“Ever so casual, this one,” He said to York, who grinned and clapped Gregor hard on the back.

“Come then. We will eat. And you will want to see Howard, I am sure. He has spoken of your shared exploits in the past. Then we can send you on your way.”

York all but pushed him along out of the room. Gregor didn’t even get a chance to glance back in at Ripred before he was struggling to keep up with York’s long strides. As they made their way to wherever the dining hall was, York filled the silence.

“So, Overlander. I have heard a great deal about you, but I believe the only opportunity we’ve had to speak was in the midst of battle,” York said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Gregor didn’t know exactly what they would have to talk about, but York seemed to have an idea.

“I worry at your sudden arrival now. And here of all places, where these alleged writing of Sandwich have been found.”

“You seemed skeptical before.”

“Yes. I have found that it is better to temper his enthusiasm with doubt. Callus is known particularly for his fixation with Sandwich's prophecies. That these were found on parchment rather than carved into stone is reason enough to doubt. However, that they exist at all is worrying.”

Gregor nodded, surprised at how level-headed the man was about something so sacred to them. But it did make sense to Gregor. To be cautious about something and also worry about what it could mean was not a new concept.

“You think there might be some truth to it, though?”

York smiled, “I think there is reason to pay attention. Sandwich accurately predicted your fate when you first arrived here. And you have been mentioned in these writings,” He turned down another hall, and Gregor could smell food wafting around from somewhere up ahead. He realized then just how hungry he was, “That Queen Luxa is so far away, in a strange land, and that a fair portion of the human council is with her, only adds to my worries. Much is happening.”

“Yeah. I can barely believe there was a whole other part of the Underland that none of us knew about.”

“On that, we agree. I was glad that Ripred was able to interpret that you were needed in Petras,” He looked sideways at Gregor. Did York suspect them? Gregor nodded.

“He always ended up being the one to figure them out. He figured out the real meaning of the prophecy in the jungle. He helped pin down that song as a prophecy in the Firelands. And he figured out the Prophecy of Time was talking about my other sister.” Gregor didn’t bring up the first two prophecies. The Prophecy of Bane still left a bad taste in his mouth. And it had been he who’d figured out the final secret of the Prophecy of Gray.

“He is quite invaluable. And to think I very nearly killed him once. Funny thing, life,” York said, and Gregor made a mental note to ask for more details about that if he ever got a chance, “Either way, I am pleased to know that my niece is well looked after. And that she will have a friend in you in Petras

Gregor smiled. It was a nice sentiment, but it made Gregor’s stomach crawl with anxiety. Was she still a friend? Was she only a friend? Ripred had said that two years wasn’t that long, but Gregor felt like he’d lived two lifetimes in that time. 

He was glad when they stepped into a large room that reminded Gregor of the High Hall in Regalia. A long table sat in the center, with chairs set around it, and the walls tapered inward as they went up before stopping altogether to form an arena-like hole in the ceiling for easy access to anyone flying in.

Several people were already busily setting the table with plates and bowls. And on the side closest to Gregor and York was a group Gregor recognized. Gregor couldn’t help but grin when Howard turned and saw him. The boy's face twisted from shock and confusion to amusement and, finally, happiness.

The sight was like a tonic. Howard was the first friend he’d seen since being kidnapped. He knew Ripred would feign hurt at that, but Gregor didn’t think the rat would ever call them friends out loud. Howard, though, was absolutely a friend.

“Now, this is a surprise!” Howard said, crossing and grasping Gregor’s forearm. Gregor did the same, and the older boy pulled him in for a hug.

“Hey, man! You’re tellin’ me,” Gregor said. Howard pulled away. Nike bent down, and Gregor ran a hand over her head.

“Greetings, Overlander. I am glad to see you well,” She said.

“Yeah, I’m glad to see you, too, Nike. Really glad,” A laugh punctuated that, surprising him. Had Gregor really, no more than a day ago, been struggling with whether he ever wanted to see these guys again?

“How are you here? You might have let me know you were returning,” said Howard.

“I only just found out I was coming myself, sort of. It’s kind of a long story.”

“A tale to be told over supper then,” A woman joined them. Gregor recognized Howard’s mom, Susannah.

“Hey. It's been a while,” The last time Gregor had seen her was before his journey to the jungle. Like with her husband, they had only ever talked once.

“So it has. I was never able to thank you properly for risking so much on the expedition to find the cure. Or for your part in the war.”

“Oh, right,” Gregor grinned sheepishly, “Not like we brought anything back, though.” He decided not to comment on the war part.

“The hope your quest provided was invaluable. Truly,” She pulled Gregor into a motherly hug. Gregor, slightly embarrassed, returned the hug awkwardly.

Howard clapped him on the shoulder, and Gregor smiled at him. The boy had grown taller since Gregor had seen him. His features had begun to resemble his father, though he was nowhere near matching York’s sheer mass. He had also grown his hair long and tied it into a tail that fell to his shoulder.

“Where were you two coming from just now?”

“From a meeting with Callus,” York gave Gregor a look. Gregor picked up on it and nodded, taking over.

“Right. Callus thinks he’s discovered more prophecies.”

The look of surprise was mirrored onto everyone’s faces, but it was Nike who found words to respond with first.

“Do they mention you?”

Gregor shrugged, “They mention a warrior. Ripred seems to think it's me, in any case. That’s part of why I’m here, honestly. I guess Callus wanted me to back him up before bringing it to anyone’s attention."

“I see,” Howard hesitated a moment before continuing, “Have you heard all of the news?”

Gregor nodded, “Yeah. A whole other civilization. Lots of politics. Ripred gave me the crash course a little bit ago,” Gregor stopped speaking and felt Howard's eyes on him. Howard must know, as well. Everyone else here, too. Probably, Gregor was the last one to hear about it.

“And about… Ares,” Gregor said, throat going dry. He swallowed a few times, “Is it true?”

“Luxa says so in her letters. And Vikus. Despite this, I can not quite believe it,” Howard said softly, “But if Ripred has told you… Why would they lie about it?”

In his mind, Gregor laughed at that. Why would Ripred lie about it? Try; any time he ever wanted Gregor to do anything Gregor wasn’t willing to do. He thought saying so would be in bad taste, and he bit his tongue. Besides, Ripred wouldn’t lie about something like this. Gregor was sure that if Ripred needed him to do something, there were a dozen other ways he could lie to do it. Besides, Gregor realized he believed the rat meant what he'd said about this being Gregor's choice.

“The two of you were, are, bonded,” Said York, “You must be anxious to be on your way.”

“Yeah,” Gregor said, though he didn’t feel like he meant it. Part of him still couldn’t grasp the idea enough to want anything to come of it, “The sooner, the better.”

“Will you be joining the next expedition to Petras then?” Nike asked.

“Yup.”

“You will not have to wait long,” Said Susannah.

Before Susannah or Nike could elaborate, There was a rush of wings as a bat glided into the hall. Their fur was the same color of brilliant silver as their rider, except mottled with specks of black and brown. The human dismounted gracefully from their back and stopped short when she noticed Gregor.

Gregor placed the face immediately. The sharp and undeniably pretty features could only belong to Stellovet. She reminded him of Luxa in more ways than one. Her hair was the same extra vibrant shade he remembered Luxa having. But mostly, it was the confident, almost cocky, way she held herself. That posture deflated slightly when she met his gaze.

“I was not informed that we had a guest,” Stellovet said. Gregor remembered the girl being somewhat annoying and uppity when he’d first met her. Now, she seemed weary. Defensive, even.

“My apologies, Stell, dear. I asked Ada to inform you, forgetting you were out today. But I believe you have already met the Overlander,” York said.

“Yes. Once before," Stellovet nodded at Gregor and gestured to the flier beside her, "This is my bond, Eupraxia. Eupraxia, Gregor the Overlander."

Gregor exchanged a few polite sentences with the flier, who Gregor was glad to see wasn't as reverential as others had been when meeting him in the past.

Stellovet looked like she wanted to say something else. Her expression was troubled. But there was a softness to it that Gregor realized he recognized. It was a look he’d seen in ex-bullies after a summer break who sought out kids to apologize to for being horrible. He’d seen it in his mom’s eyes when she had to ask him to stay with Boots instead of going to summer camp. He’d seen it in his reflection in the mirror when he realized he needed to move on a year ago.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Gregor said, "The arena."

“Yes…,” She swallowed before continuing, “I believe I was rather horrible to you back then.”

“Water under the bridge,” Gregor said.

“No, I wish to apologize. So I am. I am sorry. I was rude, and I goaded you into doing something with the intent to mock you.”

“Accepted,” Gregor said, “Thanks.”

Gregor smiled, and Stellovet matched it.

“Wonderful! And here comes the rest of my progeny,” York said as the last three of Howard’s siblings arrived. Hero, Kent, and the little girl whose name he recalled likening to the word chimney, “Then let us be seated and take a meal together.”

Gregor was glad to see Stellovet loosen up a little, then. Not by much, but her voice lost its edge as she began speaking to her parents. She didn’t look directly at Gregor again throughout the meal. But, Gregor did get to learn more about Howard’s family. Hero and Kent spent most of the meal whispering to one another, but Howard got them to talk a bit about their day. Eventually, though, it came around to Gregor to tell them how he’d ended up there.

Gregor told them the truth, mainly. He included the bit about fighting with the Underlanders at his house to explain why his nose was busted up but made it seem more like it was a misunderstanding. He also told them that he agreed to go with them instead of being bound and dragged very much unwillingly into the Underland.

“So, we took a boat up some river that eventually led to a lake nearby. And now I’m here.”

“It seems to me that our world continues to impede upon your life,” said Susannah, “You must feel slighted.”

“I mean, sure,” Gregor shrugged, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I agreed to be here. I made it pretty clear that I wasn’t gonna stay if I didn’t want to.” He figured that was truth enough.

But it was a big deal. It wasn’t fair that Gregor was here, but he was. And he was angry about that, but also happy. And anxious. And giddy. He was surprised he could articulate anything at all with so many emotions vying for his attention. 

Gregor could see in Howard's eyes that the boy thought there was more to the story than Gregor was admitting to. No surprise there. He’d spent a lot of time with Howard, so it wasn’t a stretch that the older boy could catch him in a lie. Even if it had been two years.

“And he wishes for you to go to Petras?” Asked Howard,” To keep an eye on Luxa in his stead?”

“That’s what he figured the prophecy was getting at,” Gregor said. Howard knew about his and Luxa’s past, and his questioning made Gregor itchy.

“This is well timed, then,” Nike said, “I am to make the journey myself, on my mother’s behalf.”

“Really?”

“Yes. My mother wishes to have a more reliable representative present in Petras on her behalf.”

“A decision I am still outspoken against,” Said York significantly.

“An opinion, I assure you, my mother has not taken lightly. Her decision was made after much consideration. I have siblings that will take my place should anything happen to me.”

“None who are nearly as suitable as you for the job,” York said and took a bit of fish. Nike made a happy purring sound.

“You said as much about the decision for me to join the expedition to find the plague cure. I feel the same way about this as I did that. I appreciate your kindness nonetheless,” Nike said.

York grunted as he chewed.

“I doubt this journey will be nearly so perilous as that one, however,” Nike purred happily, and she tossed back a mushroom, “At the very least, I do not suspect I will be made lame by hungry plants.”

She winked at Gregor, and he grinned. The moment of shared memory was warm, but behind it was the memory of Mange’s death. Gregor was happy when Stellovet spoke up to move things along.

“What time do you believe you will be departing?”

“Stellovet.” York cut in before anyone could answer. Stellovet’s face furrowed in a strikingly Luxa-like way as she turned to her father.

“I only mean to ask if they will adjust their leave to accommodate the Overlander. It is but idle conversation,” She said.

“Yes, and I am sure that your previous requests to join them have not factored into the query at all,” York said.

So Stellovet had wanted to go. And York was against it. Gregor knew better than to involve himself in the exchange, but he did feel a surge of fondness when he noticed the look Stellovet was Giving York. She was absolutely related to Luxa. No question.

“You should not be so defiant in this matter, father,” Howard spoke up this time, “It would be wise to send a representative of The Fount. Luxa has said as much. The only humans present right now prioritize Regalian interests.”

“And so her words are heeded, but that representative will not by my eldest daughter. I have chosen two capable men from our ranks.”

“I need more experience in matters of politics, father,” Stellovet said, “And that means I will need to spend time in Petras at some point.”

“You will after we have an established rapport among them. I am not blind to what is needed, but there is too much that is not certain.” York set his tableware down.

“You would deny me a place there when Luxa is working to create that rapport.”

“I would deny Luxa a place there if it were at all in my power,” York said fiercely, “But she is willful and acts as she sees fit.”

Gregor thought that was an excellent description of Luxa and a much nicer way to say stubborn and reckless. 

“Please. Let us not argue over our meal today. We have a guest,” Susannah said lightly. Stellovet dropped her eyes to her plate. York turned and apologized to Gregor.

“No worries. My family argues over dinner sometimes, too,” Gregor said.

York was satisfied with that, and everyone returned to their meals. The conversation was less motivated after that, though.

When everyone had finished, and Stellovet led the younger kids away to prepare for bed, Gregor stuck around with Howard and Nike in the hall.

“So you mentioned you were going to Petras, too,” He said to Nike, “When were you guys leaving?”

“The day after next,” Said Nike, We were to be accompanied by two envoys and a host of armed guards.”

“I imagine they will want to leave sooner now, though,” Said Howard, “When it comes to prophecies, time trumps convenience.”

“Yeah. Ripred said that I should get going as soon as possible,” Gregor said.

“You will leave first thing in the morning,” York came up beside him and looked at Nike, “It is sudden, but I believe that a change of plans will be good regardless of inconvenience. Just in case.”

“That will be fine. Will the guard detail remain the same?” Nike said.

York nodded, “With the addition of two more and their fliers. Some volunteers asked to be placed on the team to guard the Overlander. We need only find a flier for the Overlander himself.”

“Oh right,” Gregor said.

“If that is the case, then it would be a pleasure to have you ride with me,” Nike said. Gregor frowned.

“You’d carry two people that whole way? I know it's possible, but wouldn’t it be easier on you if we just found another flier?”

“I will not have a rider myself on this trip if you do not ride,” Nike said.

“Oh, uh,” Gregor turned to look at Howard, “I just figured...”

Howard smiled, “No, I am not joining you for the trip. I only returned to accompany Nike and to find myself a few days of rest before I return to the hospital in Regalia.”

Gregor nodded, “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked to catch up.”

“We have some hours before bed. Nike and I planned on taking a flight through the caverns above the Fount if you would like to join us.”

“You know,” Gregor said, “I’d like that a lot.”

The three of them wasted no time in leaving the dining hall behind. It was nice to speak to them in a more casual setting. Howard told Gregor about a program he was in charge of where doctors from each species were learning about the medical practices of each other, as well as how to care for other species properly.

Nike complained about her duties as a princess being endless and tedious in her good-natured way, which made it sound like she didn't really mind all that much.

Gregor felt nostalgic, remembering days spent doing this while hunting for places to explore or a good picnic spot. At some point, it occurred to him that no time could have passed between then and now. He'd eased right back into it. It was sort of comforting.

That being said, Gregor didn’t think he would be able to sleep much, with all the thoughts fighting for dominance in his head. So he was surprised when he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him during a lull in the conversation as the wind rush passed him on Nike. He realized he hadn’t slept since being taken. Had that been more than a day ago already?

He didn’t know if he said anything to Howard as he felt his consciousness slipping. But he sank into sleep, knowing that the safest place in the Underland was near friends.

Chapter Text

Gregor opened his eyes and reached up to check the time on his alarm clock. It hadn't gone off, and that was never a good thing. Except, he found a plain stone wall in the place where his bedside table and alarm clock should be. Reality settled over him like miles upon miles of rock above his head.

He remained still for a time, processing everything that had happened before he'd fallen asleep. He'd been kidnapped, let go, and then agreed to help his kidnappers. Then he'd helped Ripred interpret a prophecy to convince York to send him to Petras, which, he reminded himself, was literally an entirely other civilization. Then he ate dinner, and sometime after that, he must have fallen asleep.

A hazy memory returned to him of sleepily following Howard to this room. The rest was a dreamless catatonic sleep until moments ago.

Gregor stared at the ceiling, trying desperately not to freak out.

"This is insane," he said to the darkness.

"Do you need something, Overlander?" a voice sounded from the other side of a curtain. Gregor winced and felt his face grow warm.

"No. Nothing, sorry," Gregor said, "um. Actually, what time is it?"

"Early morning. I was instructed to await your waking and inform you that you are free to use the baths. And you are welcome in the hall for breakfast if you wish."

Gregor thanked the man and listened to his footsteps fade as he left, probably to tell York or someone that Gregor was up and moving. Gregor went through the motions as best he could. He spent as little time as he could in the bath to avoid mulling over his situation too much. He didn't want to think about how angry and scared his family must be. Or how much worse that would get when they got the note.

He should probably check on that, too, thinking about it. Maybe he could track Lissa down before he left.

When he arrived in the dining hall, he found Nike speaking to Susannah over some breakfast.

"Make yourself a plate. It is a long journey to Petras," Susannah said, smiling and gesturing to a small spread of mushrooms, cheese, and bread, as well as a bowl of fresh shellfish that carried some unfortunately squelchy memories.

"How much longer until we leave?"

"We are expected at the departure area before the hour is up," Nike said, "After we finish here, we will go to the docks and begin sailing south."

"So we'll be taking a boat, huh?"

"Yes, but only for a small portion of the way. Most of five days, but that is all. The majority of the trip will be spent flying through caverns."

"How long are we talking?" Gregor asked as he chewed on a mushroom.

"It took Luxa's host sixteen days from start to finish," Susannah said, "but you will be moving much faster than she was able to."

"Why's that?"

"Luxa brought two hundred others with her."

Gregor raised an eyebrow. Susannah grinned.

"Just enough to show she is well protected but few enough so as not to impose an abject threat to her hosts. She insisted on it."

Gregor laughed, "how very Luxa of her." He started on some of the bread.

"Indeed," Susannah gave him an odd look and finished off her own bread. She stood up.

"I wish you all the best, Gregor. And you, Nike," Susannah bid the two of them goodbye and dismissed herself.

Before long, Nike was flying Gregor toward what looked like an assembly area just beyond the thick walls of the Fount. A narrow section of a river passed through on one side, and several boats were tied to stone posts. Supplies were being loaded onto them, and a dozen humans and fliers milled about or helped with the loading. Gregor spotted York quickly amidst the crowd, and Nike brought them in where he and Howard were talking.

Upon landing, both men turned their attention to Gregor.

"A fine morning to you, Gregor. And you, Nike," York said, clapping Gregor on the shoulder and nodding his head toward Nike.

"Back at you," Gregor said, reeling from the force of the shoulder clap. It occurred to him that might be too informal for someone as important as York, but nobody reacted poorly. Still, he figured he should be a little more tactful.

While York moved away to speak with Nike, Howard smiled and stepped closer.

"Are you prepared?"

"I didn't get a chance to make a pack up or anything," Gregor said and shrugged, "but I can't imagine what I would pack this time. Not like you guys have a museum for me to pillage."

"This is true," Howard nodded, "but you will not need much in the way of personal effects this time."

Gregor shrugged. "Never gone on one of these without a pack full of flashlights before. Not that I need them anymore."

"That is right, I had forgotten," Howard said, "I keep meaning to ask Ripred to teach me the trick of it."

"The secret is being locked in a dungeon for a few days," Gregor said. Howard's smile tightened.

"Can we speak away from the crowd here for a moment?" Howard asked.

Gregor nodded and followed Howard a ways away, so they were out of earshot of the gathering. Gregor wondered briefly about the bats being able to hear them, but if Howard wasn't worried, neither was Gregor. 

"So, what's up?"

"Gregor, are you truly okay with your position right now?"

Gregor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Just now, I was reminded of what my people have forced you to do in the past. You being thrown into a dungeon is one of many horrible things we forced upon you. And despite your story, I do not believe you chose to return to us so flippantly. I only worry for you."

"Look, yeah, the dungeon thing was messed up. But if that hadn't happened, I don't think I'd ever have cracked the echolocation thing. Besides, I'd already made up my mind to stay before that even happened."

"Before you knew, you did not have a choice," Howard said pointedly.

Gregor shrugged, "Wouldn't have mattered."

Howard watched him, "Right. This brings me to my next question. You are back. For now, at least. What are your intentions when you reach Petras?"

Gregor furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the question, "I mean, Ripred wants me to keep an eye on Luxa, but-" Gregor stumbled at the realization of what Howard meant.

"Dude," Gregor said, "I don't even know what to expect when I get there. I'm not even sure where we stand right now, okay? Seriously, I haven't spoken to any of you guys for two years, you know."

"So you say. But should things go not so bad? What then? Do you still harbor feelings for her?"

Gregor took a deep breath and tried not to let the heat in his face spread. This was the last thing he was expecting. Though he wondered if that was a bad call on his part. This was Howard, after all.

"I don't plan on staying, man," Gregor said finally, "truth is, when I got the scroll you left, I was pretty angry with all of you. Not a word from anyone for so long, and when I finally get something, it's to ask for my help. But that's obviously not how I really felt. I was so glad to see you and Nike. So I dunno how I feel about Luxa, okay? Besides, I'm a little more worried about how I'm gonna play bodyguard to someone like her."

Howard's face lost the intensity it had taken on.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah," Gregor said, shaking his head, "sorta."

"Good," Howard smiled, "I am sorry we did not communicate with you more often. We believed that you were gone for good. And we were picking up after the war. I only sent that note because Ripred mentioned you were still living nearby."

"Like I said, water under the bridge," Gregor waved a hand at him, "I understand. We're good."

"I am happy to hear it," Howard put a hand on Gregor's shoulder, "my wish would be to spend more time together, but it seems time is short." 

Howard gestured toward the group, and Gregor turned to see people starting to settle into the boats. A few people were still milling about by Nike, and Gregor realized he recognized them.

"Never enough time," Gregor said. York raised a hand to get their attention. Gregor raised his in acknowledgment.

He and Howard walked back over to them. While Howard spoke to Nike and York, Gregor turned his attention to the familiar faces waiting nearby.

"Lissa, Armin, hey," Gregor waved hello to the two. Armin gave a subdued smile, but Lissa raised a hand in response. "You guys coming with us?"

"We are," said Lissa, "Armin and I volunteered when we heard you would be journeying to Petras. "

That's right, Gregor remembered someone mentioning volunteers.

"Happy to have you, then," Gregor couldn't help lingering on the bruises around Lissa's throat. The moment he'd wrapped his hands around it flashed before his eyes. His nose throbbed dully, and he put a hand up to his chest even before he felt the ache starting to spread.

"I was able to write the note to your family that you requested. Ripred arranged for the delivery himself before leaving yesterday."

"That was nice of him," Gregor said.

"Not so nice," Armin said, "we were preparing to deliver it when he took it from us. He told us that the task should be handled by capable people and to not bother arguing with him because we were, decidedly, not capable people."

Gregor fought to keep a straight face. He felt some sympathy for the two of them. Ripred was just like that. Handling things with a competence that the rest of them couldn't comprehend, let alone hope to achieve.

"Thanks for writing it, anyway," he said.

Armin nodded. Gregor talked with them a little more and met their bonds as well. Lissa's bond was an average-sized bat with cream-colored fur striped with thin lines of orange and black. His name was Hector. Armin's was slightly larger with pure brown fur. His name was Sophos.

Gregor wasn't sure which of the half dozen boats he would sit in. Were any of them fair game? Or was there an assigned seating thing? Gregor was considering asking York when Nike fluttered over.

"I plan on flying for some time. You are welcome to join me if you wish."

"That does sound nice. We'll be crammed into these for a while." 

Gregor slapped a hand onto the trim and shook his head. "Sure. I'll take you up on that offer."

 Gregor pulled himself onto Nike, feeling awkward for lack of practice, and waited for takeoff. There was a moment that seemed ceremonial where York passed on command to a soldier wearing a red band on his shoulder. Then the boats pushed off. Nike waited until all of the boats were moving along and then took to the air. Gregor waved to Howard and York until the two were too small to bother with.

Gregor felt the rush of air and the sense of weightlessness that accompanied the process. His stomach felt heavy, and he wondered whether he'd have to ask Nike to make a stop so he could empty himself of breakfast. But he held himself together. It hadn't been such an issue last night, but he'd been pretty tired then. And not on his way to a very far away place to see someone who felt even further away than that.

"Are you well, Gregor?"

"Huh?" Gregor looked down at the top of Nike's head. He realized he was gripping her fur into clumps with his hands. Not only that, his legs felt tight. He felt his face flush. He forced himself to relax his legs and smoothed out the fur he'd grasped by her neck.

"I'm sorry, it's been a while since I've done this alone, I guess," Gregor said. Nike gave a mirthful laugh, taking them a little higher up and coasting forward with a glide.

"I am anxious, too. To see our friends. To see this new land. It is all very exciting. And frightening."

Gregor took a deep breath and nodded, "It's a lot."

"If it means anything, I am glad to have your company," Nike flapped and brought them a little higher up, "so few seem capable of being comfortable around me lately. It is nice to speak to someone who does not see me as a princess."

"Did something change from before? I didn't think people were too bothered by it a couple of years ago," Gregor thought back to the time he'd spent with Nike. Most of it had been in the company of their circle, but palace staff and visitors to the arena always seemed at ease around Nike.

"My mother has declared me to be her first successor," Nike said after a pause, "it goes without saying that the announcement changed the way others act around me. It has not yet been a year since, so I am still getting used it."

"Wow, I'd thought you were already for sure going to be queen one day, but I guess not. That's cool though, congrats," Gregor leaned back and watched the tunnel pass overhead. "So, you guys must not do it the same as the humans, huh?"

"No, not quite the same," Nike said, her voice upbeat. She flew a lazy circle around the boats and then let her wings carry them up and down in a calm motion, like waves.

Gregor smiled. He wasn't the only one in the air right now, with a heap of anxiety piled onto them. But he was happy to help Nike feel lighter, despite literally weighing her down by riding on her back.

While they flew, other bond pairs took turns flying as well, no less enthused by the prospect of spending the next several days cramped into the boats.

Gregor learned some names and passed the time playing word and math games with Nike. The caverns they flew through twisted and became thinner. Nike, Sophos, and another flier named Memphis had to pass single file through a particularly narrow tunnel while the boats moved along the water. Then they opened up again, and they were flying over the Waterway. A cool breeze came up from the water, which was nice for a while, but something was nagging at him the longer they flew over the dark expanse of water.

"Nike," he finally said, "last time I was out on the water, we were attacked by some kind of huge squid."

"None of the sailors sent out on charting missions have reported sightings of it. It is possible that after that encounter, it decided boats were not worth the effort."

That was comforting, he supposed. Still, the inky black water below them made him uneasy. His echolocation stopped right on the surface as if he were facing a wall. Except, because of the waves, that wall was constantly changing and the constant changes in shape made him dizzy.

The fact that there was still a place where he was blind to what was around him was disconcerting. He found himself wishing very much that they could just fly the whole way across the water. But that was unfeasible.

A memory came from another lifetime ago. Sitting in a boat and Ares mentioning he might try to fly across it in one go. To be the first ever to successfully do it. It seemed unreal that he might still have that chance. Gregor pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let 'what-ifs' take over his mind.

Not long after that exchange, Nike began angling down toward the boats.

"We have flown for most of a day," Nike said with some pep, "sleep will come easily tonight."

"Lucky you," Gregor chuckled. When Nike set down into one of the middle boats, Gregor slid off and looked around at his boat-mates. Lissa, Armin, and their bonds were the only other boat occupants. With just the six of them, there was more than enough space in the boat.

"We are passing just beneath the drop-off, where the entrance to the Overland lies," Nike said, settling into a comfortable position, "I could take you home, but, alas, my poor wings.

Gregor grinned but glanced up at the dark past where he was able to see, which was pretty far already, thanks to the torchlight.

The fact was, he could probably ask Hector or Sophos to fly him up there and just go home. But even if he did, Corvus was still out there. And Callus might try something again, too, despite how badly Ripred had chewed into him. 

Gregor tried to imagine doing it and laughed at the idea of getting to his feet, slapping his pants free of dust, and saying something like, "Welp, it's been fun, but I'm just gonna head out. See you guys around!"

Nike cocked her head at Gregor when he laughed.

"What is funny?"

"It's dumb. Just that I'm close enough to home that I could be back in my own bed in an hour. Maybe even come back tomorrow morning and catch up with you guys."

"None would blame you, I think. Perhaps you could go and procure some pizza for us all," Nike said. Gregor raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know about pizza? Have you guys been holding out on me?" Gregor said.

Nike laughed. "No. It is a dish Luxa has mentioned before when we speak of the Overland. She says you told her about pizza before."

Gregor grinned. He remembered a brief conversation about pizza. They had been in the middle of the Waterway then, too.

"Unfortunately, I'd have to go home for my wallet. And if I went home, I doubt my family would let me leave again."

Nike was about to say something when her head shot toward the rear boats. The other fliers mirrored the move in the same instant. Gregor's heartbeat began to hammer in his chest. He knew what that sudden movement meant.

Armin and Lissa reacted as he did, jumping to their feet. The other humans and fliers in the other boats were also on edge, watching somewhere behind them. Swords were pulled from their places at hips. Gregor itched for one of his own, fists opening and closing. The buzzing began to churn up at the back of his skull. He became hyper-aware of each and every detail of the boats. He could hear something, as well. Possibly the same thing the fliers did. But it wasn't a sound he associated with danger.

A flier dove into the torchlight and buzzed past the first two rear boats. The fur was familiar to Gregor, but he couldn't place where. It dipped low enough for Gregor to realize they were aiming for the boat he was in. Gregor made room, and the flier collapsed into the boat more than landed.

The rider got to her feet, and Gregor realized why he recognized the flier. She bent down and helped the flier, who gathered himself into something more dignified than a pile of fur. Stellovet turned to Gregor and smiled.

"Did we miss dinner?"

Chapter Text

Gregor laughed.

He couldn't help it. Armin and Lissa looked surprised but kept their shock to a nonverbal level. Muttering from the other boats drifted across the gaps between them. The whole scenario gave Gregor an insane sense of deja vu.

Stellovet didn't wait for anyone to respond. She crossed the space between them and began to search through one of the packs sitting near Gregor's feet. She found some jerky and pulled it out, offering some to Eupraxia.

"We timed that poorly," Stellovet said, "luckily, Eupraxia is a strong flier."

"I do try," Eupraxia said. He sounded exhausted, but there was some pride in his voice. He accepted the jerky and gnawed at it with the enthusiasm of a grazing cow.

"Not only do you try, my friend," Stellovet said, "you succeed." She ran her hand across the fur of his chest.

Gregor turned to Nike, who seemed entirely unmoved by the events. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You don't seem surprised," Gregor said.

"If you knew her better, you would also not be," Nike said. Gregor acknowledged that with a look and turned to see another flier move in for a landing. Their boat was quickly becoming crowded.

Anton, the man York had placed in charge, dismounted and looked at Stellovet in disbelief. Gregor supposed the man might have benefitted from also having known Stellovet better.

"Miss Stellovet," Anton said. He didn't follow it up. Either he couldn't find the words or figured Stellovet had an excuse already planned.

"The slack jaw is unbecoming of you, Anton."

Stellovet turned to look at the man. Anton's eyes narrowed, but he did close his mouth.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning? There is no meaning. I decided I would join your expedition, that is all."

"We were not outfitted for an extra pair bond."

"Yes, you were. If you do an inventory check, you will find that you were outfitted with double the standard emergency supplies," Stellovet said, beaming, "under the pretense of hosting both the flier heir apparent and the Overlander, of course."

Gregor pressed his lips together hard to curb the enormous grin he knew he was sporting.

"I see," Anton's tone suggested that he'd been aware of that and had accepted it at face value, "you are here without permission, then? Governor York will have my head, miss."

"Why would he have your head when I was the one who sneaked away?"

"Do you think your actions will not have repercussions for those around you? Surely you know better."

Stellovet erred, face growing stoic. Anton crossed his arms.

"We will turn around. We can sail some of the ways back, give your flier time to recover, and you will disembark."

Stellovet put a hand on her hip, recovering from her momentary falter.

"If you want me to go back, you will need to bind me and place me at the feet of my father yourself, captain. I do not imagine that will reflect well upon you."

"Not well at all," Nike said. Anton looked at Nike. The poor man seemed to be waging war in his head. To turn around would mean ruining their schedule and inconveniencing some VIPs. But to keep moving forward would be to willingly bring the Governor's daughter on a risky trip across the Underland against his wishes.

Gregor felt horrible for the guy.

"You will pull your weight should the need arise," Anton said.

"That's why I brought a weapon, captain," Stellovet said with a roll of her eyes.

Gregor's eyes flicked to the sword at Stellovet's hip. He clicked his teeth together, considering whether he wanted to have one. On the one hand, he'd been avoiding the thought of having to use one at all. But if Stellovet had been something else, something dangerous, he'd have been defenseless.

"Speaking of weapons," Gregor said, "do we have any spare swords with the supplies?"

"We do," Anton said, frowning at Gregor, "but you need not bother yourself. There is a reason so many of us surround you and Princess Nike."

"Yeah, but I think I should at least have access to one," Gregor said. He would need one once they reached Petras anyway, even if the thought of using it made him a little queasy.

Anton deflated as if he couldn't be bothered to argue the point. He shouted to the boat directly behind them. A sword in a leather strap was tossed across the gap, and Anton caught it handily.

"Here you are," Anton said, "only as a last resort, please. You are correct; at the very least, you should have one on you, just in case. However, there is still a chain of command."

Gregor nodded, accepting the sword and setting it in his lap. The weight was uncomfortably familiar.

Anton left for the lead ship again, leaving Stellovet and Eupraxia with Gregor and the rest of the middle boat.

"What was that about?"

"What?" Stellovet asked, taking a seat to Gregor's left.

"I've never had an Underland hesitate to give me a sword before."

"Regalians are far more married to the culture that every man, woman, and child ought to be armed. After the war, many people of the Fount have grown weary of that state of mind. Anton would rather keep swords in the hands of soldiers."

"Huh. I guess that's not such a bad idea."

"Not bad at all," Stellovet said, "it is something I agree with, although my family does not."

Gregor nodded. Every day he'd spent in the Underland, it had been drilled into him that everyone fought: man, woman, child, adult, civilian, soldier, royalty. Everyone. When survival was the top priority, it didn't matter who you were.

"It doesn't apply to you, though?"

Stellovet shrugged. "There is not much he can do or say when I bring my sword. Did you not see his face when I mentioned it?"

"I was too busy watching you," Gregor admitted.

"Watching me? How bold of you," Stellovet said.

Gregor doubled back, feeling his face go hot. What a thing to say! He  really  needed to consider what he said before he said it. He found that he was abruptly aware of how confined the boat was.

"Not like that! It's just the whole dramatic entrance thing-"

Stellovet laughed, face flushing pink. She was teasing him, of course. Of course, he repeated to himself. While his heart settled, Gregor became too aware of the cold sweat breaking out across his body. 

"The whole affair was similar to when Luxa forced her way into the Prophecy of Bane quest," Nike said, "if I recall the story Howard told me correctly." She looked to Gregor. Gregor shrugged, glad for the change in trajectory.

"I was out cold with squid venom running through me when she showed up, but that's about the gist of it."

"We are more alike than I care to admit, my cousin and I," Stellovet said, though she didn't seem upset.

"That is no bad thing," Nike said.

"Perhaps not," Stellovet fought off a yawn, "what do you think, Eupraxia?"

"I am intelligent enough to not comment on the similarities and differences between you and the queen," Eupraxia had folded himself up on one end of the boat. His voice was sluggish. Gregor was surprised he could even respond, seeing as he was obviously half-asleep already.

"But not so savvy, to indirectly insult the heir to another," Nike said.

"You're not queen yet," Eupraxia said, "but I'll remind you to punish me for my insubordination when you are."

Nike laughed. Gregor grinned, happy that at least a couple other people on this trip didn't treat Nike so formally. 

Gregor yawned, which set off a round of yawns across the boat.

"Close to bedtime then, huh?" Gregor said.

"It is," Lissa said, "You will not need to worry about keeping watch. Anton will not allow it, even if you offer."

"Guess there are perks to being a civilian," Gregor said, stretching. Lissa laughed, and everyone got to work preparing the free space for sleep.

The next several minutes consisted of dividing up the space in the boat for sleeping. The bats all huddled together at the stern while Gregor and Armin ended up in the center, and Stellovet and Lissa ended up nearer to the bow.

While they set up their bedding, Gregor could feel the tension Armin was exuding. The man was obviously uncomfortable with the arrangements. Which, in turn, made Gregor uncomfortable.

"Hey, Armin, feeling alright?" Gregor had to cut through the awkwardness.

"Yes. Fine."

"You're a bit tight, is all," Gregor said, "if it's still about the whole taking me thing, it's fine. I mean, it's not fine, but it's whatever now." 

That sounded lame. Definitely not as reassuring as he'd meant it. But they had put his family in danger, so it wasn't fine, honestly. Just old news.

"Is that sincere?" Armin asked.

Gregor frowned. Armin shook his head and looked out into the darkness. Gregor went to respond, but a voice cut across from another boat.

"Armin! You will take the first watch, "Anton said, "Go to the rearmost boat. Seline will be at the front."

Armin responded with an acknowledgment and stepped over to Sophos, who wiggled himself free of the bat huddle. Armin gave Gregor one more look. "Sleep well, Overlander."

Gregor watched him shoot up into the air on Sophos and glide toward the boat furthest in the rear of their column. He sighed.

Gregor wouldn't have described it as sincere, he thought, but what was the point in staying mad about it anymore? What was done, was done right? The way Armin had looked at him, like Gregor disappointed him somehow, really ticked him off for some reason. Gregor took out his frustration by shaping his bedroll into something resembling comfort. He curled up into the bedding and tried to calm his thoughts. Before long, he had fallen asleep.

Gregor was surrounded by a glowing green light. His limbs worked uselessly against tentacles pinning them to his body. A frothing white kicked up around him as he was dragged under the water. His chest hurt, feeling the pressure push in around him as he was dragged deeper and deeper into darkness. The phosphorescent green faded as blackness took hold. His mind screamed out for someone to help. Who had helped before? 

Ares!

He projected the name into the ether, hoping against hope that his friend would save him like before. But no claw latched onto him to yank him back. Instead, the pressure grew and his arms began to burn as venom seeped in through his old scars, torn open as if they'd never healed. Gregor screamed, bubbles evacuating from his mouth. He could see a shape right in front of him. Ares's face was suddenly inches from his own.

"Why should I help you? You abandoned me."

Gregor wanted to protest, to explain what had happened back in that cave. But Ares's eyes had become lifeless. Blood poured from his throat, mixing with the water as darkness returned. Gregor sucked in a breath of water and felt himself growing numb. As his vision sparkled with tiny specks of light, that everything would be okay from now on.

Gregor's eyes snapped open. His heart felt like it was ready to break free of his chest and fly away. His arm felt numb, and he realized he'd shifted in a way that put it beneath him. He heaved it from under him and grimaced as thousands of tiny needles prickled his skin as feeling returned to it. Annoyance bolstered the buzzing tickling his nerves.

What the hell was that? Gregor let out a shuddering breath as he attempted to make sense of what his brain had just done to him. He hadn't had a nightmare that nasty in more than a year. But that one... jeez, the one had felt so real. He subconsciously massaged his arm where the squid sucker scars were still present beneath crisscrossed vine scars. 

"Are you okay?" 

Gregor jumped at the voice and fought the urge to succumb to the already very present rager boiling inside him. He put up a hand to ask for a second while he forced his breathing to slow. When he'd steadied himself, he sniffed and nodded. Stellovet plopped onto the seat beside his bedding and offered him a water skin.

Gregor accepted, and before he realized it, he'd made the contents disappear. When he pulled the skin away from his mouth, he apologized.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to drink it all."

"Do not worry; we have plenty of it," Stellovet said.

Gregor took another deep breath and looked around. Armin was asleep nearby, and Lissa had disappeared. So the watch cycle was still going. Which meant it was still 'nighttime'. 

"What are you doing up? I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No. I have been awake for a time."

Gregor frowned. Gregor found it difficult to judge the tone of someone's voice at the best of times, let alone when they were trying to keep quiet. Gregor hoped he hadn't been talking too loud and consciously leveled his own voice.

"Well, thanks for the water."

"Are you well now? Your dreams seemed disturbed."

Gregor grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a nasty nightmare involving that squid that introduced itself to us the last time I crossed the waterway." Gregor wondered briefly if the trip spent trailing the rocky edge on their way to the Fount a couple of days ago counted as his actual' last trip', but he was too tired to entertain the idea, "it was a pretty rude introduction."

Gregor rubbed his arm, which still felt like it burned with venom even now that the pins and needles had subsided. The scars that pockmarked the length of it were hard to make out but still unmistakable to anyone who knew what they were looking for. He traced one of the bigger ones while he spoke.

"You speak so flippantly of the experience," Stellovet cocked her head at him, "yet you seemed so distraught by the dream."

Gregor's brows furrowed. It wasn't like he was making fun of a terrifying encounter. But Stellovet didn't sound like she was judging him or mocking him. Still, it was difficult to hone in on what she was fishing for.

"I mean, what else can I do? Complain? Vent? I've already talked about it to others, so what else can I do but make light of it, y'know."

"That makes some sense," Stellovet leaned back and brought her legs up, so they crossed. Tone was hard to judge, but body language was easier.

"Did something happen?"

Stellovet looked at him, pondering something. Finally, she nodded and said, "I, too, had a dream. They are not uncommon for me. Since the war."

So that's how it was. Gregor felt like such an idiot. A hundred possibilities crashed into him at once. Obviously, Stellovet had been involved in the war, same as he. Gregor had no clue what she'd been through. Hell, he'd barely given Stellovet a spare thought since Howard had brought her up at a picnic once, way back before Luxa's crown had fallen at their feet in the arena.

"Me too. I'm not as dismissive of those ones."

"I did not mean to imply-"

"No worries, I know," Gregor tried to give a supportive smile, "wanna talk about it?"

Mrs. Cormaci had asked him that same thing about a dozen times before he'd taken her up on the offer. The first time had been awful. Recounting those things out loud felt horrible, like he was admitting to disgusting crimes after a lifetime of murder. He'd felt a lot of guilt for offloading it onto Mrs. Cormaci and hated himself for making her an accomplice of a sort to his personal horror. But the next time she asked, he hadn't hesitated. He couldn't deny that speaking about it to Mrs. Cormaci had helped put him on the mend. 

Stellovet smiled.

"There is no need. Eupraxia hears my woes often enough," she said and caught his eye, "suffice to say that despite the safety of the Fount, we saw our share of hardships. Shed our share of blood."

Gregor nodded. He respected her answer. After all, there were plenty of people Gregor had not confided in, despite their offers. Some, Gregor wouldn't be able to sleep at night if they knew what he'd done. Others, he just didn't see a point in telling. Then again, there weren't many people he could honestly talk to about any of it. His list contained two people. It started with Mrs. Cormaci and ended with dad. And dad didn't hear even a fraction of what Mrs. Cormaci did. 

Gregor yawned, feeling drowsiness weigh over him like a sudden drench of rain.

"It is only the middle of the watch shifts," Stellovet said, "there is still plenty of time to sleep."

Gregor wanted to remain awake. If she was as much like Luxa as she admitted to being, admitting she wanted company would never come from Stellovet's mouth. But Gregor knew better than to prod. He'd hated similar attempts from classmates asking why he'd been absent so long. Besides, she barely knew him. So, a wrath of confusing, conflicted emotions swirling around inside him, Gregor gave in to sleepiness and drifted back off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Luxa sat cross-legged, watching Ares from several feet away. According to the nurses helping with his physical therapy, Ares was doing extraordinarily well. However, it was evident to Luxa that her friend was still struggling in some ways. 

It was not from a lack of trying. Physically, Ares was able to complete the various tasks set by the nurses. But his mind was ill, and his intermittent lapses of psychosis significantly impeded his progress.

Thankfully, Aurora was there to talk to him. Sometimes, when he relapsed into believing they were ghosts there to haunt him, it helped. Other times, when he became incommunicative and bleary-eyed,  they could only wait for him to return to them. Presently, Aurora was at his side. 

Both she and Luxa were allowed into the activity room, which Luxa thought was far too kind a descriptor for it, in case the nurses needed help subduing Ares should he fall into a fit. There were guards on standby, but everybody counted when trying to suppress a flier as large as Ares.

As she watched now, tense and ready to spring up at a moment's notice should his dissociation escalate to mania, Ares corrected his slumped-over posture and returned to work doing wing stretching exercises.

Luxa breathed easier, letting herself relax and resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She yawned, wishing she had slept more the previous night. After spending most of yesterday with Narianne, Luxa had lain awake, processing what she had learned about Petras.

She had also felt like a fool for not searching for more information about this place. Or, at the very least, seek out material that did not come from the other councilors. She had already remedied this, having sent a couple of her runners to request reading material on the city's history. 

In truth, nothing of what Narianne had told her was particularly alarming. Instead, her mind lingered on how uneasy Ripred admitted to being about Petras. Every place had problems, but it seemed like Petras was doing as much as possible to hide those problems from her and the others.

And why would they not? Would Luxa not do the same thing if she were in their place? Luxa stopped herself from grinding her teeth and slumped back against the wall. She reached into her mind and accessed the lessons Vikus had made her sit through growing up. One area of study, in particular, stood out. The negotiating and finalizing of trade agreements.

Luxa had negotiated her fair share of trade agreements since the end of the war, but all of them had been in such a precarious position that the details mattered less. But in times of peace, if you wanted a trade partner, you would look for a guarantee that their leadership was stable.

That was the obvious answer, Luxa decided. That didn't change her growing discomfort about this place. At the end of the day, she had ironically realized in the night, it boiled down to one thing; Whenever Ripred felt uneasy about something, it was in your best interest to be doubtful as well. 

"Luxa." Aurora's voice tore Luxa from her thoughts. Luxa looked up and saw Aurora looking across the room toward the observation glass. Standing in the observation room was Lapblood. Luxa frowned and stood up.

"If it is something pressing, call for me," Aurora said. Luxa nodded and ran her hand through Aurora's fur before jogging across the room to Lapblood. She went through the curtain and raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"Something happened today at the morning proceedings. I felt you should know. They brought in the governor from the other major city, Atlas, to act as an interim head speaker."

"Saxon is not back?" Luxa said, frowning.

"They say he is still sick," Lapblood said. She did not sound convinced.

Luxa crossed her arms and considered the news.

"What does Vikus think?"

"You could guess," Lapblood said, "he was the first to introduce himself, and us, to the governor; Hevander is his name."

Lapblood rolled her shoulder in a way that Luxa had come to recognize as a nervous gesture from her.

"Luxa, I think you should attend after lunch recess is finished," Lapblood said, nose twitching, "I would like another cautious eye in the room. This change doesn't sit well with me."

"You too, then," Luxa said. Lapblood nodded.

"Ripred expressed himself similarly to you, I take it?" Lapblood asked.

"He did."

"Then I am relieved we are of the same mind in this."

A quiet tension filled the space. Luxa turned to watch Ares again, mind racing. She had spent the last two years overseeing a constant battle between her instinct and her desire to see the world in a less pessimistic way. Now, she felt such efforts had been detrimental to her ability to see clearly. 

Sitting back on her haunches, Lapblood spoke again.

"Ares is looking well," she said, "I am glad to see it. I have to admit, though, I'm a bit surprised by his progress."

"Everyone is," Luxa said, "by all rights, he should not be nearly as well recovered. Though he did bounce back remarkably fast from having the plague, despite having it the longest."

"Is that right? I have spoken to plenty of gnawers who recognized his abilities in battle, but I wasn't aware of this feat."

Luxa frowned, feeling a mixture of shame and righteous indignity that always accompanied talk of her late grandmother's attempt to weaponize a horrific disease.

"The trial was big news. I thought even the gnawers would have received the news of those involved and affected," Luxa said.

"We did. All of the perpetrators, anyway. The scientists who worked on it, specifically. But the nuances were lost in translation. We didn't care much for victims in our anger. In fact, at the time, we really didn't care about the names so much as the fact that humans had once again brought us low."

"It was a nasty business, for sure," Luxa said. She had already publicly apologized on behalf of the humans, again, since the end of the war. She had agreed to reparations in the form of food and medical care for the foreseeable future. All anyone could do now was agree that the whole thing was a dark stain on their history. Instead of lingering in that arena, Luxa changed the subject.

"You did not spend much time with Ares before, did you?"

Lapblood shook her head. "No, I have never spoken to him myself. But I have seen him in passing. And he is Gregor's bond. I feel like I owe him as much as I owe Gregor."

Luxa smiled. She remembered the incredulity and intense betrayal she had felt when seeing Gregor brushing Lapblood's fur after the quicksand incident. She felt terrible for never asking Gregor about it, but she wondered how close the two had been. He had been reasonably close to Twitchtip, after all.

"Did Ripred tell you before he left? about Gregor?"

"He didn't," Lapblood said, "what is happening with Gregor?'

Luxa recounted to Lapblood what Ripred had told her several days before. Lapblood sighed, running a claw over her face.

"What does he think he's doing, anyway, sending messages like that?"

Luxa grinned, though the worry of Gregor being in danger had become fresh again. "I asked Ripred to take care of it, and he was happy to. Though I would be lying if I said I was not worried."

"Ripred is dependable. You will never hear him admit it, but he cares for Gregor."

Luxa nodded, feeling a little better about things. She was happy to share this moment with Lapblood, but the reality was shouting at them. The lunch recess was going to be ending soon.

"Right. I will let Aurora know what is happening, and we will return to the council room. You can update me more on the way," Luxa said. She did just that. Though Luxa could tell Aurora wanted to come with her, the flier declined.

"Someone should remain. You will relay everything to me?"

"You need not doubt that," Luxa said.

Luxa gave Ares a tentative goodbye, to which he nodded in response. Luxa, emboldened by that, returned to Lapblood.

"Let us be off," she said to the gnawer.

*****************

Luxa took her seat next to Vikus. Lapblood took the spot to Luxa's other side. Vikus turned to her with a smile.

"I am glad you were convinced to join us. Were you with Ares?"

"I was," Luxa said. She did not want to admit that she had not attended the morning meeting because she had overslept. Arriving late, she had decided earlier, would have been bad for her reputation. Now that lunch had passed, however, attending after visiting her friend in the hospital would make a fine excuse.

"Has Lapblood filled you in?"

"She has. I regret not attending today from the start."

"No matter. Hevander is eager to meet you. Here he is now," Vikus stood and raised a hand to catch a man's attention. Luxa also stood, and Lapblood rose from her spot to match them.

Hevander crossed from the other side of the dais. He was tall, and his hair was kept long and in a tie of leather behind his head. Lean muscles and an air of confidence told Luxa that this man was a fighter. The nasty-looking scar that crept along his forearm from his elbow to his wrist told Luxa he had seen battle.

"Vikus, I hope your break was relaxing. This must be the lovely young Queen Luxa you mentioned to me before," Hevander offered his hand to Luxa. Luxa allowed him to take it and lightly kiss her fingers. She felt her skin itch at the touch.

"I do hope I am not being improper when I say that your kingdom is lucky to be guided by a light such as yourself."

Luxa raised an eyebrow, and Vikus shrugged. "We spoke some during the recess. I told him all about how well Regalia is flourishing beneath you."

Luxa forced a smile. She would not have preferred a stranger to know more about her than she did of him. But that, she felt, was just another failing on her part. A mistake she would not be repeating.

"I am pleased that your opinion of me is high. It is comforting to know that the heads of government are so approving of my home and myself. I have heard a few tales about Petras from Saxon and Narianne, but I would love to hear a few about Atlas. Perhaps we could all take a meal together sometime?"

Hevander smiled so broadly and genuinely that Luxa was caught off guard, her own smile becoming less stiff.

"What a marvelous idea. I am quite busy currently, what with running the council here and aiding my contemporaries in Atlas via letters, but there is no reason I could not free up a couple of hours to make such a thing happen!"

Hevander excused himself, and Vikus, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself, turned his gaze to Luxa once more.

"He seems a good replacement. However, I would like to know more about what has befallen Saxon," Luxa said. Vikus nodded.

"I would, too. I worry for his health, but there is naught we can do for him if he is so ill."

Hevander began their meeting then, calling the room to order. Luxa watched him and the people he spoke to carefully. He handled requests from smaller towns as diplomatically as Saxon had, though perhaps in a less charming manner. Despite how friendly he had seemed, he took the business of politics seriously. While Saxon handled the crowd here with jokes and dry humor, Hevander ran a tight ship.

She was so focused on observing the proceedings that she felt a shock when Hevander called the names of the rushers Luxa had encountered some time ago. She looked around and found them standing by the door. They hadn't been there when Hevander had started, but Luxa could not have said when they arrived.

"Hevander, it is good to see you," the one with the gravelly voice, Goro, she thought, said. She was unsure, but he seemed to speak and move more stiffly than his companion. Luxa remembered her as Tala. They had promised to have a meal together as well, sometime. 

"And you as well. Tala, Goro. Your arrival is coincidental, for we were just discussing land usage along the rivers and streams that border your lands."

"Were you?" Tala said, moving ahead of Goro, "I trust you were not making any definitive plans."

"Nothing definitive, no. Never without your input," Hevander said, "it is your land in the end. We are happy guests upon it."

"Happy guests, indeed. Your words would ease my worries."

Luxa frowned and turned to Lapblood. She recalled how Tala had spoken with Saxon. With a light, polite air. Removed, even. The way she was talking now felt downright hostile by comparison. Lapblood had a knowing look in her eye, acknowledging Luxa's unease at the exchange.

The two spoke like a human and a gnawer pretending to get along.

"I am pleased to hear talks have meandered to the traditional lands my kind have called homes for an unknowable number of centuries. We may come and go with the year, but the lands are important to us regardless." Tala made her way to the bottom of the steps to stand next to the dais. "And it is my job to defend them in this forum. I wish to remind everyone of that."

"It is a reminder we heed well," Hevander said, brows furrowing, "has something happened to upset you, Tala?"

Tala nodded, and someone must have taken that as their cue. Luxa watched someone else stand in the crowd of representatives. She held her breath as Narianne began to speak.

"If I may," she said. Hevander nodded.

"The room recognizes Narianne, representative of the settlement Roge."

"With some discomfort, it has come to our attention that the land the rushers use to travel between their more permanent locales has been disrupted recently. Ruffians, per usual, were the expected culprits. But, in fact, it was found out that soldiers leased to the settlements were causing the trouble."

A general mumble rose up among the representatives. Luxa, engrossed by the tension this had stirred up, couldn't even enjoy watching the self-satisfaction drain from Vikus's face. She felt tense. As if a fight could erupt in the room at the drop of a pin. 

Hevander was silent as the news was absorbed. His calm demeanor shifted.

"If there was trouble, the soldiers leased to the settlements are unlikely to be at fault. The men and women of the army protect the land we share. Could this mix-up not have been caused by disgruntled rushers who believe the land we were given to use was stolen from them?"

"Your accusation is an insult," Tala said levelly.

"Has there been an official investigation of the occurrence?" A voice asked.

"A report must be made!" Another shouted. Hevander called for silence.

"We will investigate these claims and decide on a course of action from there. Is this acceptable?"

"It is a start. The investigation will be overseen by both parties."

"Tala, we allow you a place in our council, but you do not make demands here. You forget your own proprietary customs, I think."

"My customs keep me from launching myself onto that dais of yours and finding satisfaction for your earlier insult," Tala said. Goro had joined her and seemed ready to jump in front of her.

"I would ask you to leave this room," Hevander said, any trace of kindness erased from his tone, "I do not tolerate threats in a place of diplomacy."

"Your exclusion of my people in this matter is duly noted, governor Hevander. Stay with my blessings."

Tala turned and took her time leaving the room. She did not glance around at the people assembled, though every eye was on her. Goro hesitated, but after a moment, he followed her out. Luxa let out a breath, long and slow.

She looked around the room, which was full of whispers, judging the general tone of the witnesses to this exchange. Many people seemed disturbed, but more than a few looked pleased with what had happened. Still more were nonplussed, as if this were something that had been inevitable. Narianne looked miserable.

"I do not appreciate being ambushed on my first day as Head Speaker, miss," Hevander said to Narianne, "you'll be suspended from council meetings for the rest of the week."

Narianne made a face and exited with much more haste than Tala had. Hevander looked around and then sighed. The judgment had silenced the room.

"Where were we?"

Several of those gathered rose and left, stating their position clearly concerning how that last exchange had been handled. Afterward, the meeting went on at a slimer's pace.

Luxa's fought ferociously against the desire to run off after Narianne and demand an explanation for everything that had just happened. But she remained. Because the pieces were beginning to fall into place before her. She felt like the picture was becoming more transparent. And the scrolls waiting for her in her chambers would be a good place to start getting properly nosy.

Chapter Text

When Gregor began to stir awake, everything was brighter. For a wink, he was confused about how his curtains were open. Because he never forgot to close them before going to sleep. The idea of something staring in at him while he slept was uncomfortable, and-

Somewhere, a shrill voice whinged about having to take over the lead boat so soon. And another cried back about how pathetic the first voice was being.

Of course, what was even stranger than leaving his curtains open was that it had been a few days now since he'd last slept in the room with those curtains.

Gregor's eyes opened, adjusting and readjusting to the peculiar lighting. It was like the boats were inexplicably encased in a bright bubble of soft reds and yellows, which extended for several feet before dissolving into the pitch black beyond. Which wasn't so pitch black to Gregor, so the effect was stranger still. The first face he saw as he turned around to search for the source of the light was Stellovet's. And boy, did she look annoyed.

Gregor heard the shiner again before he saw it. Or rather, he heard the awful sound of it, no-  them , eating. The bug nearest him was settled on the bow of his boat, messily devouring a frosted cake. Gregor winced as his brain caught up, and he finally copped to the idea that the shiners had, prophetically, joined the voyage. Of course, they had. Nobody had mentioned them, but shiners were a guarantee on journeys across the Waterway.

"Oh good! You are awake," Stellovet said, "now we can suffer in like company."

"Ha ha," Gregor said, drawing out his sarcasm and sitting up, "you didn't have Lissa or Armin?"

"We are suffering, as well, Overlander. Fret not," Lissa said. Her bond fluttered his wings in agreement.

"Sure, but it makes me much less angry at you now that you are enlightened to our state of affairs."

"Angry? That's not very fair," Gregor said with a grin. Stellovet shrugged.

"When did they arrive?" Gregor asked.

"Not twenty minutes after you went back to sleep," Stellovet scoffed, "I envy you greatly for your extra hours spent blissfully unaware of their presence. To be honest, I am rather impressed by your ability to remain asleep despite their initial whinging."

"We did not whinge!" the shiner whined, "we discussed work shifts and food distributions."

"For two hours!" Stellovet said. Her hand tightened around a waterskin, but she talked herself out of letting it fly. The shiner sneered at her and returned to smacking away at the cake.

Gregor looked around at the other boats and saw four more sources of light. Each ship had its own shiner, for a total of five. Five shiners. 

Five . 

Gregor grimaced. He had only ever traveled with two shiners at a time, except for that one time he and his friends had passed by a cavern full of them in Hades Hall. But to be out on the Waterway with five?

Gregor took a deep breath as the two in the rear boats began arguing about whose cake had more frosting.

"Jeez," Gregor said.

"It really is too bad you humans need light," Eupraxia said.

"It is a weakness I frequently consider," Stellovet said with a sigh, "now more than ever."

"Hey now, don't lump me in with the rest of them," Gregor said, "I don't need these guys any more than you or Nike do."

"Can you echolocate?" Nike asked. Eupraxia made a face that told Gregor the bat didn't believe him. Gregor shrugged at that.

"Sure can. And I can tell you how I learned, too. Anything to drown out these babies." He said the last part loud enough to cut over the arguing voices of the shiners. They did not take the hint.

"Please do. We can take turns," Stellovet said.

"That sounds good," Lissa said. She and her bond moved closer. She looked calm, but her voice betrayed an edge.

Gregor began recounting his tale of learning echolocation, leaving out the details of where exactly he'd been taught and the kind of 'guests' he'd had down there. Stellovet, Eupraxia, Nike, Lissa, and Hector all turned their attention fully to him. Armin and Sophos sat within earshot but did not engage like the others.

When he finished and had promised to demonstrate the ability the next time they found themselves in darkness, Nike took up the next story.

Gregor did his best to relax and listened to her talk with interest. He had never learned much about the bats. Nor had he ever had much time to make small talk with any of them except for Ares and, sometimes, Aurora. Learning something about what they did when apart from humans proved to be an engaging topic.

She told a story about herself and a sister getting into trouble. She was in the middle of a funny tangent when the shiner from the front boat screamed back that the shiner from their boat was lazy and not taking their turn at the front.

Equally piercing, the shiner from their boat responded by demanding one of the other three should be made to take his turn at the front because his stomach hurt from overeating cake. This, naturally, set off a chorus of protests from the other three shiners.

The stories were put on hold while their guard detail leaped into action to try and calm down the agitated insects, whose butts had begun to blink in and out to a disorienting effect.

"It is only for four days," Stellovet said through gritted teeth. 

"Bet you're wishing you had stayed home now," Gregor said. Stellovet shook her head.

"No. I do not regret this," Stellovet said. After the shiners had been placated and Nike had finished her story, Stellovet took the next one. Gregor was happy to settle in and listen.

After all, she was right. There were only four days left on the water. Then they would spend several more in the air. And at the end of those days? Eager as he was to be done with the shiners, part of him would not have minded a few more days with them in exchange for more time between now and the end of the journey.

He tuned out those thoughts for now and did his best not to dwell on what was waiting for him at that end.

*******************

Ripred finished his first task quickly and efficiently. He personally ensured that the note for Gregor's family was left on their kitchen table. Nobody was home, which was a stroke of luck. He was able to pop in and help himself to some leftovers from the fridge for his troubles. 

He lingered for only a few moments, considering the house. It was far removed from what Underland humans considered a home. "And an even further toss from what the rest of us consider home," Ripred snorted, shaking his head.

And this place was on a block with dozens more. In a city with thousands. And that city was a small section of a country with hundreds of thousands of them in all shapes and sizes. Nevermind the infrastructure and service buildings; The food moved by their trucks for a single restaurant in a day would feed a good portion of the Underland without issue.

The world up here was more extensive than the Underland by order of magnitudes, even now that they had discovered another populated region. It struck Ripred that the troubles of the world below were almost insignificant by comparison. And yet, they were his troubles. And Gregor's too now, again. 

That made them more significant than anything else.

Ripred grunted and headed out into the night. He didn't glance back inside, but he did consider how the family would feel a few hours from now. They would return home from wherever they were, believing that Gregor would be home any day. Because Ripred had promised them that. He almost felt bad about it.

Ripred traveled swiftly from there. Even his usual haste didn't feel fast enough this time as he raced to get everything sorted out in a way that would make things clear to him. When he arrived at his destination, he set about sending messages via streamstone to his comrades. A command for his whiskers to gather to him.

The place would be one of their predetermined locations. While it was technically in flier territory, Ripred had been sure to obtain nothing but the most express of permissions from Queen Athena to use it. There was no point in spoiling his shockingly good relationship with the monarch.

The furthest members of his team were a little over a week away, traveling at a steady pace. The rest had received instruction to remain at their posts for different amounts of time before heading this way themselves in order to reasonably stagger their arrivals so that they all showed up around the same time. 

All save for one. 

Before leaving, Ripred sent a message via another streamstone vein that would carry even further than his furthest team members in this part of the Underland. The message was simple. After all, he didn't think it would be fair of him to spring Gregor as a surprise on his bond. However funny that was to imagine.

When that was finished, he headed for Regalia again. At his pace, the run took less than a day.

His arrival was met with less fanfare than it had been in the past. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was something of a fixture in this part of the world anymore. He passed the very place he'd been swarmed by soldiers some years before, back when he had brought Twitchtip to Regalia. He felt a twinge of emotion and tamped it down. There was no use in it. No time. There was never any time, he thought ruefully, thinking of a specific prophecy about time and how it was running out.

Though many in the Underland fooled themselves into thinking the clock had stopped ticking on them because the prophecy had been fulfilled, the plain fact was that the inexorable march of time was always marching in tune with an endless beating drum. And never was it beating in their favor.

He made his way through the palace and to the room he'd been given by Luxa as a place to stay while in Regalia. Fresh bedding had been brought in, and, more importantly, a basket of scrolls was waiting for him on a table in the corner. Ripred went to it and unfurled the paper, reading about what Callus had discovered so far.

He grimaced, reading plain English, and made a note to discuss the code his team used with the man. For now, this would do. 

Nothing, in particular, caught his attention. Written in quotations were the lines and words written in the papers, copied from the original, and written next to those were Callus's interpretations. Ripred used his tail to reach into a slot in the wall and removed a small leather case. Inside were several dozen stamps made of wood and leather and a padding of spinner silk soaked in ink. On some fresh paper, Ripred made adjustments to a few of the interpretations as he saw fit. For the most part, Callus was interpreting things in a way that benefited Ripred and Gregor, but his patterns indicated he was headed toward an interpretation of open conflict.

When satisfied, Ripred carefully replaced his materials into the case and set it into the alcove. That spinner silk was expensive for its properties to keep the ink wet enough to use, but it dried out quickly if left exposed to the air. And Ripred very much liked being able to 'write.'

The curtain rustled behind him, and he turned to see the one member of his team he had given other instructions. He had used their own code within the code to order her here instead.

"Amadine, good. Time is short, and we need to get started," Ripred said. The flier, fur colored dull brown, nodded, crossing over to the table.

"I thought as much," she said, "What is happening? You have never asked everyone to gather in one place before."

"I'll fill you in. You're keeping a close eye on things topside, I hope?"

"The boy's family returned home shortly after you left. And have remained there since. There is no sign they are being watched presently."

"Good."

"If you do not mind my saying so," Amadine said, frowning, "you look unwell."

"I'm too old to be running around like I have been," Ripred said, grimacing, "that's what I have all of you for.  Obviously . Except now I can't trust any of you."

Amadine fluttered her wings. "Those are unsettling words. You are not going to kill me, I hope."

"Not today, Amadine. Unfortunately for you, you're too valuable to me."

"It sounds like that is a fortunate thing, all considering."

Amadine settled in by the table, grabbing some mushrooms from a plate of food left for him by whoever had brought the fresh bedding. Ripred did the same and watched the curtain.

"We'll see how you feel after you hear what I'm making you do for me next."

*********************

Ripred watched Amadine leave, fluttering down the hall and then launching out of a balcony window. He turned back into the room, staring momentarily at the piles of sheets of paper. Using a paintbrush, he had painstakingly worked out a complicated code for himself and Amadine to use. 

Within his group, he had an inner circle consisting of Amadine and a couple of others. He had a code he used with all of them, hidden in the one used by his entire group. And further, he had unique ciphers and code words for each individual. However, in an effort to be transparent and trusting to his inner circle, he had told them the codewords. None of them knew one another's unique ciphers, but they would have gathered that Amadine got extra information. He needed something less transparent for the time being.

Ripred ran his paws over his eyes and began to ball up all of the papers. He pushed aside the large paintbrush and inkwells he'd had brought in to avoid using up all of his stamps using his tail. He sent one of the inkwells toppling over, spilling ink across the stone floor. He grunted but didn't waste effort worrying about it. Someone would clean it up.

"Ripred," a voice said from the other side of the curtain. Ripred finished shredding the last of the papers and flicked his tail so that a torch on the wall collapsed into the rubbish bin. He dropped the last of the pages into the burning bin and moved the curtain aside, revealing Howard.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing more than to see you rest," Howard said, "you have been holed up in there for two days. You should sleep."

"Who's to say I didn't sleep while holed up in there for two days?" Ripred said, and he pushed past Howard into the hallway, tail snagging the basket with his scrolls meant for Callus. Howard fell into step beside him. An irritating development.

"Says I. Humans and gnawers may not share much in the way of internal health, but I am well versed in recognizing the effects of sleep deprivation."

"Yeah? And how is that whole mess coming along, anyway? Studying gnawer health and vice versa."

"The program has made great strides," Howard said, "though there is no precedent, and so any stride is great. There are many altercations."

Ripred smirked. "Not many rats would let a human touch them."

Ripred's thoughts returned him to the jungle, watching Gregor sit with Lapblood and slowly brush her fur clean of drying quicksand. Few rats would. Fewer humans would try.

"Nor would many humans allow the same from a gnawer," Howard said.

Howard's own thought returned him to the Waterway, watching the bond grow between Gregor and Twitchtip. He did not dwell in this place for long, as it brought forth bad memories for him. 

"I will take this basket and have it sent along," Howard said, "please return to your room to rest. Please." Howard stepped in front of Ripred, causing the rat to pull up short. Ripred sneered and tried to push past him, but the boy had the audacity to get in his way a second time.

"Are you eager to die?" He asked Howard. Howard grinned.

"Some nights. But tonight, I am eager to see you sleep. Some hours, in fact. A nap, at least."

Ripred grunted, but he had to admit that he felt exhausted. Four days was a long stretch to go without sleep. But he still had to talk to Mareth, make an official inquiry to Petras, and hear about any updates that had been sent back. But, Ripred supposed, none of that had to be done directly by him.

"Okay, fine. You win. But your prize is work," said Ripred, shunting the basket into Howard's arms. Howard shrugged, smiling at his victory.

Ripred rolled his eyes. "Come on then, here's what I need."

Chapter Text

Luxa stared down at the plate of food set before her. She was still getting used to the unusually large piles of greens placed before her during meals. And today, one of the cooks had guaranteed a treat. This treat turned out to be something similar to the leafy greens she was familiar with, except they were dark shades of red and purple.

"They are only in season once in two years. They require a lot of care to cultivate properly," Narianne said. Luxa smiled at her from across the table, intent on not being rude by dismissing the things outright. Despite how worked up she felt, she was trying very hard to not be needling today.

"Their taste is very distinct," Vikus said, chewing on one of the purple leaves, "earthy and sweet simultaneously."

"Indeed! I would be lying if I said I did not prefer them to our typical greens," Narianne said.

Luxa could not disagree more. She bit into one that was a vibrant shade of red and fought off a grimace as the taste of soil filled her mouth. Still, she chewed and swallowed it. The meal, she felt, was a fitting representation of how she felt today anyway, and consuming it was the lunchtime parallel of powering through her frustrations and confusion. 

She, Narianne, and Vikus were having lunch in a building under construction. It would, one day, be the embassy of the Northern Allies. Those allies being 'the Regalians and their friends.' The decision to name them such had come from Vikus earlier that morning. At the time, Luxa had rolled her eyes. But the idea had its appeal, she had decided. It gave everyone back home a single banner to gather beneath. 

"I realize, with some embarrassment, that I have made little initiative to ask about how you spend your days, Luxa," Vikus said, "we have been so busy with the meetings and the like."

"There is no need," Luxa held up a hand, "I spend my days much the same as you do, Vikus. I sit in on the council sessions and spend my free time with Aurora and Ares."

"So you do, but surely you have seen more of what Petras has had to offer?"

"We have visited a few places of interest," Luxa sighed, admitting defeat and engaging in small talk. It would help her ease him into the conversation she wanted after Narianne was gone. "Narianne has been a wonderful guide, showing me the natural wonders around the caverns and tunnels nearby."

"Have you now? I must offer my thanks, Narianne."

"It is nothing," Narianne said, smiling, "I enjoy Luxa's company. It is a delight to show her around."

"But you have not visited the city?"

"What does it matter?" Luxa asked. She had made some time to visit a few places and allowed the people of Petras to see her. Many recognized her solely for the armed guard she moved about with when in the city.

"It does not, I suppose," Vikus said. He eyed her, and Luxa wondered if she was doing a poor job of not seeming on edge. She probably was. Her mind was unfocused after a night spent awake and reading.

Luxa's eyes flicked to Narianne, who had grown quiet again. She was chewing on her food slowly, poking at a mushroom on her plate. Luxa wanted to know what Narianne was thinking. She had to know. Since Saxon was still not back, and Luxa was beginning to wonder if he'd ever be back, the girl was the closest person she had to someone in the know regarding Petras's politics. 

"You okay?" Luxa asked.

"What?" Narianne raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes. I happen to be a little tired today. That is all." She began to eat with a little more motivation, but Luxa was sure something was weighing on her mind. Yesterday's declaration of her suspension was still being discussed by council members during recesses. 

"After yesterday, it is no wonder," Vikus said, "such a thing was shocking to witness."

Narianne gave a tight smile. "It was necessary. Hevander has always kept his eye trained on the struggles of the rushers. Although we occupy their traditional lands, he often blames them for problems that arise on his soldier's watch. As you saw yesterday."

"I do not think it was smart of him to suspend you from the proceedings," Vikus said, "it shows too much aggression."

Contrary to that, and something she had not admitted to anyone except for Aurora, Luxa had been rather impressed with Hevander's ability to remain calm and collected while also throwing down a gauntlet against anyone attempting to step out of line during the meetings. Saxon's way of doing things had felt too loose, more interested in the discussion than the decision. It was the way of the Regalian Council before they had been slaughtered during the War of Time. But Hevander's way brought results. More regulations and deals had been passed and approved that morning alone than in a week under Saxon.

Not that she was going to admit to that out loud with the first casualty of his regime sitting across from her.

"And Saxon?" Luxa said.

"Still ill, I hear," Narianne said, "I am growing worried for him."

"We could go and visit him," Luxa said hopefully. Regardless of her admiration for Hevander's methods, Saxon was reliable in his way. With Narriane suspended, having Saxon back would at least put someone Luxa could predict back in play.

"That is a wonderful idea," Vikus said, nodding. Narianne, though, shook her head.

"No. No, Saxon leads a fairly private home life," she said, "I have tried to visit in the past, and he has only scolded me for it. He will be back when he is well."

Narianne smiled. "But speaking of home, you must be looking forward to returning home. The council will be finalizing their delegation to send back with you any day now."

Luxa chewed on her dirt leaves thoughtfully. The words were true. The council had formed a committee to oversee the assignments of who would be chosen to send to Regalia. They were getting closer to finishing every day. Luxa shrugged.

"I do not plan to leave before Ares is well enough to join us," Luxa said. Vikus frowned. Luxa raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to push her and argue the point again. Thankfully, he did not.

"How long do the doctors think that will take?" Narianne asked. Luxa observed her carefully. The way Luxa saw it, this line of questioning would accomplish one of two things. The first was gathering how well Ares was doing and, as a result, how much weight was on Luxa's shoulders about it. The second was gleaning how much more time that would tack on to Luxa leaving.

"They would like to keep him for some months, but they admit his recovery is miraculous. He was even able to fly this morning, according to Calliope."

Calliope had been delivering Luxa updates when she could about Ares for some time now, and Luxa was happy for the gnawer's help. Knowing she would eventually leave them all here to return to Regalia was a strange thought. Everyone she had ever known had always been a short flight away. Or, well, almost everyone.

"It is remarkable," Vikus said, "his ability to heal is nothing short of just that; a miracle."

Vikus went on about speaking to Ares about things back in Regalia. This was something that Luxa often wondered about. She wasn't sure such things were a good idea, given Ares's state, but Vikus insisted that he know what had been happening to his home. Of course, Vikus had always been so optimistic that she doubted he ever considered the idea that Ares had felt little comfort even back home. 

Eventually, their lunch hour came to an end, and Narriane excused herself, smiling at them as they gathered themselves and prepared to return back to the council hall.

"I severely wish you could return with us, dear," Vikus said, looking genuinely undone by the thought, "it is unfair to be denied what you are here to do."

"It is too bad," Narianne said with a shrug and a restrained grin at Luxa, "I suppose I'll just go back to curating my gemstone collection. Have fun arguing politics!"

Luxa watched her leave, and she noted that the girl had much less skip in her step than was typical. The generally carefree, one might say clumsy, way she moved had been swapped for a more intentional walk. When she was gone, Luxa waited for their usual group to reassemble. Euripedes and Lapblood found them, and Luxa took her shot.

"We should all talk before returning," Luxa said, "I feel as if something is not right."

"Luxa…" Vikus said. Luxa shook her head, cutting him off.

"You can not be so blind, Vikus, that you do not see that something is off," she said, "this place does not sit right with me."

"Nor with me," Lapblood said. Euripedes remained silent, but that he did not dissent was telling enough. Vikus must have taken note of that because there was a rare irritation in his following words.

"We are unused to their ways. You and I and all of us are. This place is no small change from what we are comfortable with."

"This place is far more like home than we were initially lead to believe," Luxa said, "I spoke with Narianne the other day, Vikus, and Petras has had its fair share of violence. Recently, too."

The attempted coup had been recent, but what she had not been told by anyone else was how often the Rushers had come into conflict with the colonies.

Vikus set his face, "Yes, I have heard the others retell the stories of border disputes. And the revolution that so altered their government."

"And by border disputes, do you mean with the gnawer kingdom? Or do you mean their skirmishes with the rushers?"

"The rushers? You speak of yesterday?"

"I speak of the accounts I read last night from pages that I am told have to be regularly copied because of how often they are borrowed and conveniently go missing."

Vikus frowned at that, and Luxa took the opportunity to push.

"And have they mentioned to you the attempted coup?"

Vikus sighed. "Yes, it was mentioned."

"Yet you continue to be so charmed by this place?"

"Look around us, Luxa! Look at their accomplishments. There is a city of intermingling species below us and multiple other cities like it within days of flying from here. The variety of food they cultivate is beyond what my imagination could conjure," Vikus said and took a deep breath before he finished, "there are always those who seek to undermine progress. But the proof that cooperation works is all around us."

Luxa clicked her teeth. Vikus was not wrong. He was making sense; even she could not deny that. But there was still something. Moves that she could not see being made. The tension in the air that was being ignored. And, quite frankly, how obviously Narianne was hiding something from her. By her own admittance, she was a lousy politician and, by Luxa's figuring, an even worse liar.

"Ripred thinks something is going on. He thinks them too pleasant to work with. Thinks they are too accommodating of us," Lapblood said.

"Ripred has shared his worries with me, as well. It is paranoia. Warranted, I will grant, but I do not believe anything will come of it," Vikus said.

"Since when have you been so eager to dismiss his instincts?"

"I am not so unwise not to heed him. I am only alive now because I understand he sees much of what others do not. But he has been wrong before. I have the experience in just that arena, and I believe he is wrong in this."

"Or," Vikus said, heaving a tired sigh, "he is not sharing everything with me. In which case, I can not make a sound judgment."

Luxa took a deep breath. She wanted to scream at the old man. Yell about how he was being biased because he wanted this whole thing to work, and so he could not see the trouble brewing. Hevander was a powerful new element, regardless of how charming he had been with her and Vikus. Saxon was missing. Narianne seemed very eager to learn about when Luxa was leaving.

"You may wish to heed her words, Vikus," Euripedes said, "where there are rolling rocks, a cave-in may be imminent."

Vikus and Euripedes shared a moment of significance. Luxa recognized the common flier wisdom, which was said to have been shared with Sandwich himself by the then queen of the fliers. Many now believed that it had been as a warning to him before he waged war with the Diggers.

Finally, Vikus made a face and said, "Understand, Luxa, that I do not take your worries lightly. Your instincts are as reliable as Ripred's, so I do not dismiss them. But I can not proceed in our relationship with Petras with an unhealthy suspicion of the people we are meant to work with."

"That makes sense. I concede that, but we should-"

"Queen Luxa?"

Luxa turned and found a young man standing in what would eventually be a doorway. Luxa recognized him. He was one of the couriers he had assigned to bring messages between her and Lapblood when needed.

"Yes, Kalys?" she asked.

"A message for you, your highness."

Luxa frowned and looked at Lapblood. Lapblood shrugged.

"Does someone need us? One of the troops?"

"No, ma'am," Kalys hesitated, looking around, and said, "I was tasked by someone from here. The woman who gave it to me would not elaborate. She only said that Ripred would tear my throat out next he saw me if I did not deliver this to you."

Luxa reached out and took the message from Kalys. Her mouth had gone dry as a flood of repressed worry broke the dam it was hidden behind. The questions weighing her down: 'What was Narianne up to?' and 'What would it take for Vikus to see through the curtain Petras had erected in front of him?' were replaced by ones she had forced herself not to consider: 'Was Gregor in danger?' and 'When would Ripred return so that he could weigh in on what was happening?'. 

"I will ensure he does not do so, Kalys, fear not. Dismissed."

Kalys bowed, looking relieved, and disappeared. Luxa returned to the others, who had become stiffer; If Ripred was sending them a message themselves instead of through the Regalian councils, something could be wrong. Luxa held her breath as she rolled the paper open, bracing for the worst.

Something twisted up in her stomach as she read.

"What does it say?" Lapblood asked.

Luxa could not believe what she was reading. It wasn't long, consisting of only a few lines. Two of the lines were unimportant updates about names she did not recognize. But one sentence stood out a great deal. She swallowed uncomfortably against a bone-dry throat and looked up from the note at Vikus, whose face had grown severe.

"Gregor is coming here, "Luxa managed, "he is traveling with Nike and her guard. He is coming to Petras."

Chapter Text

The week passed with little incident. Short of a squabble with one of the fireflies that had ended with one of the humans and the shiner in question taking a brief swim in the murky waters, the trip across the waterway had been fairly painless. Now, they were in the air and cruising through tunnels and caverns and, according to Anton, making incredible time.

Gregor forced himself to remain present and in the moment as Nike flew through the tunnels and caverns in formation with the other human and flier teams. Nike had already had to remind him once that squeezing her with his legs wasn’t helping anyone. The shame of such a basic mistake had long since vanished, but he wasn’t keen on repeating it should he subconsciously begin to tense up again.

They were less than a few hours from their destination, after all. And Gregor was feeling more and more sick with every flap of Nike’s wings. So Gregor focused on the specifics of the next step of thir journey. Anton had mentioned that they would be landing at the mouth of a tunnel and meeting with a group of Regalians and gnawers, who would join them for the remainder of the journey. Anton had referred to the gnawers specifically as Dead Land Gnawers, which struck Gregor as significant. 

It didn’t seem real to Gregor that he was so close to a place that Ripred had off-handedly called “their Regalia”. Of course, that wasn’t what was pulling at his mind, even though the thought alone was tantalizingly ridiculous. No, something much heavier was demanding his attention even as he tried to focus more on the blurry shapes of the cavern rock formations that his echolocation threw back at him as they blew past them. He couldn’t get it out of his head that he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

“I’m driving myself crazy, Nike,” Gregor said, unable to stand the silence and the anticipation any longer. Nike’s ears perked up in response.

“And you wish to include me in your descent into madness? I am honored.”

Gregor smiled in his discomfort.

“What is driving you to such madness?”

Gregor clicked his teeth in thought, and he decided to just let what needed out, out, “Seeing Ares again… the idea of it doesn’t feel real. I believe Ripred and Howard and everyone, but…”

“You are not alone in this. I have spoken with Howard about Ares at great length and I do not believe that the reality of it has settled in for me, either,” Nike said.

“I just don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Gregor said, shaking his head. He felt so small, voicing what had been rattling around in his head for so long.

“Perhaps if we had not be otherwise engaged in drowning out five shiners for several days, we might have ruminated on it more,” Nike said. Gregor snorted.

“Maybe if I hadn’t been actively avoiding thinking about it for the last few days while we’ve been flying, we could have.”

Nike laughed, which made Gregor smile again. His nerves still felt like they were on fire, but the pressure he’d felt building in his chest and in his head was lightening up as they talked.

“I can not claim to have ever been in a position such as yours,” Nike said, “but I can speak with some experience to the deep breath being far worse than the plunge itself.”

Gregor considered that. It was a lot like something his parents would say to him or his sisters before something big. In fact, Gregor was sure that his mom had said something almost exactly like that to Lizzie the first year she was supposed to go to summer camp. 

His own examples hit him without prompting and without consent. Tense moments of silent anticipation, sometimes excited and sometime wary, before combat. The precious minutes of terror before facing a deluge of ants in the jungle. Days of agony spent waiting in the prophecy room while others fought in the palace halls. The itchy, surreal minutes standing on the walls while he watched the Bane scream and pace and listened to Ripred give him battle advise he hadn’t really heard.

Gregor grimaced, closing his eyes against a disturbing flood of grizzly images and scenes. He hadn’t thought of them like this in a long time. Never so many at once. He forced himself to think of other things. There were other, less traumatic moments he could draw from; butterflies before saxophone recitals, heightened anticipation before volleyball games, and sympathy nerves before Angie’s play, most recently.

Gregor’s eyes creeped open again. Had they asked about him? Larry and Angelina. Were they worried about him? Again? He’d gotten a lot closer to them over the last couple of years. Closer than anyone else Gregor had ever known outside of his family and Mrs. Cormaci. Now he’d run off without so much as a word to them. And what would he have said to them, anyways?

Gregor felt a numbed slash of pain arc across his chest. He ran his hand over where the scars from the Bane were and wondered why they hadn’t been bothing him so much since he’d been in the Underland again.

“Gregor?”

“Sorry. Did I squeeze you again?”

“No, but I can feel the tension coming off of you regardless,” Nike said, “please, speak to me about what else is troubling you. If you do not mind.”

Gregor thought, wondering why Nike had worded it like that. It occurred to him that he might not be the only one facing something unprecedented and and frightening ahead. She would be the first official envoy sent by the queen for her people to Petras, after all.

“I was thinking about some of my friends in the Overland,” Gregor said, “I realized that I didn’t give them a reason not to worry about me now that I’m back down here.”

“Do they know of this place?”

Gregor shook his head. “No, I never told them. Not like they would believe me anyway, but I also wanted to move on. Couldn’t have done that if I was answering questions about you guys all the time.”

“That is fair. I am sorry you had to leave them.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Gregor said with a smile, “if anyone should be sorry, its Ripred. He’s the one who asked for my help. Or, well-” Gregor stopped himself from accidentally letting on how he’d actually come to return in the first place. He pivoted into something that he felt was close enough to the truth to not be a lie, “maybe Sandwich should be sorry. Guy coulda picked anyone from the Overland and it had to be me.”

He and Nike shared a laugh, though probably for different reasons.

“Would you have denied Ripred if he had not told you about Ares?”

“Maybe. But I guess I technically agreed to help before he told me…”

Gregor thought back to the conversation he’d had with Ripred back in the Fount, after they had discovered the Corvus had vanished.

“ Ripred ,” Gregor said, feeling dizzy, “ Ripred you just told me that Ares isn’t dead. How? When did you find out?” He frowned, “Why didn’t you tell me when you were in the Overland?”

“You said it yourself. You weren’t interested in hearing updates about us,” Ripred said.

“If you had told me that, I would -”

“You would have what? Followed me back into the Underland right then and there? Thrown everything you’ve built for you and your family out the proverbial window because someone from your past turns up alive?”

Gregor considered that. Ripred wasn’t wrong. He wouldn’t have done that. Gregor couldn’t imagined what he would do if this news had been given to him in his bedroom. Run out and tell his family that he was going back to the Underland because Ripred , who was in his room, just told him his friend was alive? There would have been a fight. His mom would freak out and two years worth of recovery and progress would go down the drain.

“No. You moved on. You were doing well for yourself and I didn’t want to hammer a thorn into that progress by turning up and pulling a tablecloth from under your feet. I might have thought different if we all lived on the same horizontal plane, but we don’t. I deemed it counter-intuitive. But now you are fully entangled in our affairs once again and you’ll either hear it from me now or find out for yourself in a few days.”

Ripred moved toward the door and looked back over his shoulder at Gregor, “Now, do I have to explain every action I take to you or are we going to get to work. The sooner we finish here, the sooner you get on your way to a glorious and joyous reunion.”

Gregor swallowed hard, but got to unsteady feet and wobbled in place for a few seconds. He nodded and took a few deep breaths. Ripred was right.

“Good. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yeah,” Gregor said with a nod, “he only told me after I agreed to help.”

“Did he? What an odd play. If I were Ripred, I may have lead with that in order to secure your aid with as little effort as possible. That sounds much more like him to me.”

“That is much more his way,” Gregor agreed, “but I think he was looking out for me. Ensuring that I didn’t feel trapped down here this time.”

“And do you?”

Did he? Gregor considered the rest of the conversation with Ripred. About why Ripred did what he did. And why Gregor had agreed to help at all. To stop a war. To keep Luxa safe.

“Nope,” Gregor said, “I’m here because I want to be, even if saying that makes me feel insane and question every single thing that happened to get me back here.”

“It does sound quite complicated when you put it like that,” Nike said. Gregor raised an eyebrow at the mischievous tone that was rising in her voice. “but I wonder if the reason could be simplified. Your motivations are yours, of course, but I think that you were, perhaps, spurred into action in the hopes of seeing the Luxa again?”

The mischief melded into full tease. Gregor’s face grew hot, but he forced himself to breath in and out to maintain composure. None of the fliers he’d ever known had ever been so bold as to approach that topic with him. He’d never even discussed it with Ares fully. There had never been time. Now though…

“Yeah,” Gregor said, forcing himself to play it cool, “maybe a little. And while we’re being candid, I’ve been worrying about how that’s gonna go, too.”

“From the way Howard speaks of it, she is quite fond of you,” Nike said, “the two of you seem to be intertwined in many ways. I am not meaning to pry, of course.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you overheard Howard when he pulled me aside back at the Fount.”

“Perhaps I did,” Nike said, voice aloof. Gregor rolled his eyes.

“Then you know that I’m not exactly planning on staying.”

“I know that you are unsure of how you feel,” Nike said, “and that plans rarely survive entanglement with life. After all, I am sure that you did not plan on coming back. Yet here you are.”

“I guess so,” Gregor said with a sigh, “what about you? So long as we’re being forward, you and Howard get along pretty well. I thought so even back before the war.”

“I am glad you think so!” Nike said, practically thrilling, “Howard is a wonderful human! Do not speak of it, but I soon plan to ask that we bond.”

“Ah, uh, wow,” Gregor said, caught off guard, “that’s-”

“Did you expect me to fumble, Gregor? After three journeys together, now, I would think you knew me better than that,” Nike said with a purr.

“Alright, alright,” Gregor said, rolling his eyes, “my bad, your highness.”

Nike flapped her wings hard, ascending so quickly that Gregor was shoved down into the fur of her back and forced to hold on for dear life as she flipped them upside down at the apex of the climb. She did it again. And a third time. Finally, she settled them back into their place in the formation, flying in what seemed to Gregor to be a very satisfied sort of way.

Gregor, breathless and heart thumping a mile a minute, pushed back up from her back as worried voices called to the two of them. Nike shooed away a bond pair who flew closer to check on them and Gregor laughed.

“Won’t happen again, Nike,” he said, shaking his head. The fear of the moment gone, Gregor recognized the rush that came with flying settling in.

“See to it that you do not,” Nike said, “I am a princess, after all, and so you should treat that as a command.”

“Of course, of course. Except that you don’t rule anywhere in the Overland so…”

“Perhaps after my conquest of the courts in Petras is complete, I shall turn my eyes upward and claim some territory in the Overland,” Nike said, making Gregor laugh again, “and then it shall not matter whether you remain with us or return home, as both shall be under my rule.”

“That does sound pretty great.”

“And we can begin immediately. We have arrived. I can see our escort now.”

Gregor leaned forward a where a group of two dozen or so figures were waiting for them at the mouth of a tunnel that was taller than it was wide. A nasty smell wafted out of the tunnel and Gregor grimaced. The sulfuric scent sent a chill down his spine. Memories associated with that smell came too readily; a sick boots, a long dead tick.

“Great,” Gregor said, slowly piecing together why there was exactly the same number of gnawers as there were flier in their party, “really great.”

Nike landed and Gregor dismounted. He stretched out weary limbs while Nike settled into a relaxing position, giving Gregor a cheery smile.

“Think of it like this,” she said while Anton went to speak with the people in charge, “at least we will be far too distracted by our next trial to contemplate anything other than out own misery.”

Gregor heaved a sigh as Anton gave the order for the fliers to get cozy on the backs of the gnawers. He caught Stellovet’s eyes and she gave him something like a hopeful smile. Gregor only shrugged.

Chapter Text

The trip was miserable, indeed. Less miserable than Gregor had worked himself into believing, but still pretty bad overall. A huge plus was that despite the strong smell of sulfur present at the start of the tunnel, the water that dripped down to soak them didn’t stink of it. Instead, the smell had come from deposits of actual sulfur in pockets of the rock. But those had been left behind, and the smell with them.

Nobody talked, but there were plenty of baleful ruminations and an equal amount of grumbling. After a couple hours of walking, during which Gregor had become soaked through with the water dripping from the ceiling, he was nearly ready to admit that he would have rather have spent a few more hours with the shiners than walk silently through this cold, wet tunnel.

Of course, recalling Stellovet slowly losing her mind was enough to deter him from sharing that thought with the class. He could practically feel the piercing gaze he’d receive from the girl. He shivered, but that could have been from the chill against his soaked skin.

There was a general anxiousness, too. Whatever water source was above them had eroded the rock away enough so that it dripped and Gregor figured a constant worry on everyone’s mind was how much was left between them and what could be torrents of water. Gregor did his best not to remember the flood he’d been washed away by in Hades Hall and pushed on.

Their escort, several human and bat pairs and twice as many rats, had basically tripled the original group’s number. Having been confused initially about why there were so many rats, their roll had become obvious even before the bats had started climbing onto their backs. The tunnel was technically tall enough for them to move on their own, but riding along on the backs of the rats was much less taxing. Gregor had since, in the hours of silence, come to a profound realization in that he was witnessing the fruits of two years of Underland reformation.

And he’d missed out on every second of it.

That had left him with an odd sense of longing. A feeling that he wasn’t keen on exploring in such a miserable environment. But walking along here might also be the last quiet moment he’d have to dwell on such things for some time. After all, Petras was close. A cavern and another tunnel and they would be there, according to their escort.

Though the woman who had informed them of the path forward had not stated it directly, Gregor had only heard one thing; That Luxa was close. That Ares was close. The jitters were really settling in, goaded on by the dripping water and the chills. Fully unchallenged by his philosophy so far of simply not thinking about it. How could he not think about it when it was basically staring him in the face?

How would they react to seeing him? Surprised? Angry? Shocked? Happy? How would he react to seeing them? All of the above? Would he feel anything at all? And besides that, Gregor was coming to realize that he didn’t really know what it meant to be a body guard. It seemed intuitive enough; Stand near the body in question and guard it. The two men he’d been assigned during the war had done exactly that. Horatio and Marcus had stuck to him like glue, except for when they had been fooled in the nursery that time. And they had also slammed him into a wall, gagged him, and then thrown him into a dark, dank cell. With a grimace, Gregor was darkly amused by the idea that if that last part was in the job description, he’d already fulfilled it once before by being the reason Luxa had been tossed into a cell. The look she’d given him… Would she have a similar look when she saw him now? Not that she had a reason to. But then, when had Luxa ever needed a reason to be mad at him? 

Gregor rubbed at his temples. His head hurt. His mind was everywhere and nothing good was coming from anything bouncing around in there. He could see how angry she would get as clear as day. Her hand would go to her hip and she would cock her head in that infuriating way it did when she was gearing up for an argument.

Gregor smiled.

Enjoying our suffering, Overlander?”

Gregor started, turning to look at Stellovet who had sidled up next to him. She was smiling, too.

“And my own,” Gregor said, “You?”

“Just yours, I am afraid.”

“You could at least try to deny it.”

“And become a liar for my troubles? No sir, not I,” Stellovet said in a way that made Gregor wonder if she were referencing some sort of inside joke for herself. What that might have been, Gregor couldn’t guess at, but saying it seemed to brighten her mood a little.

The two of them had broken the long standing silence, which caused a slow eruption of similar diversions from silence as they continued on. People began to talk shop or otherwise make small talk. Gregor watched a rat, human, and bat speak without animosity and shook his head in amazement.

“What?”

“I’m not sure,” Gregor said. The feelings stirring within him spoke of indignation and confusion. Feelings that didn’t really make sense to him in the moment. “I guess it kinda feels like the world is a little smaller maybe.”

Stellovet raised an eyebrow and Gregor put a hand up.

I know, I know,” Gregor said, “Whole new city. Unprecedented. I get that. It’s not physically smaller. I can’t explain it.”

A minute of consideration grew between them. Finally, Stellovet nodded.

“I think I understand,” Stellovet said. Gregor turned to look at her, though she kept her eyes forward. “You were there for us through the worst times in our recent history. Fought with us. For us. It was not terribly fair of us to move on without you, was it?”

Gregor, surprised by the insight, opened his mouth to respond when Anton called back that the tunnel was coming to an end. A vibration of excitement and relief moved through the troop. Stellovet picked up the pace and gestured for Gregor to follow after. Together they left the tunnel and walked into a larger cavern.

The lights from torches illuminated enough of the space around them, but past that, Gregor’s echolocation told him that there were not many other tunnels or caves leading out of this cavern. One in particular caught his attention, and it must have been the correct one because Anton and some others were gathering around it.

“It will be a tight fit,” Anton said, “but doable. We will proceed in a line, and gather on the other side before continuing to the city.”

Gregor, Nike, and Stellovet were told to wait for half of the troop to go through before going through themselves. And when they were going through, Gregor was sincerely glad that he wasn’t claustrophobic. Luckily, the tunnel was significantly shorter than the wet one and they were through it in minutes.

While stretching out on the other side, Nike made some kind comments to the rat that had carried her through both tunnels who replied with a graciousness that Gregor was unprepared for. When the rat caught him looking, he bowed his head slightly in greeting, but did not speak. Embarrassed at being caught, Gregor raised his hand awkwardly in response. That was as far at the interaction went. And it made him wonder if he was, yet again, very out of place in this new Underland reality.

“Ready?” Nike asked him. Gregor shrugged, more prescient worries replacing his underwhelming interaction with the rat. 

“Nope.”

“Let us go anyway,” Nike said in such a cheery voice that Gregor laughed, shaking his head. As the final members of their troop entered into the cavern, Gregor turned to face the direction everyone began marching in and followed.

************

Luxa could not remain still.

A week had come and gone like a flash flood. She had done her best to focus on the tasks at hand, and she had learned a lot more about Petras in that time, but that scroll nagged at the back of her mind. 

She had burned the letter from Ripred; a precaution she had made into a habit when it came to correspondences with Ripred specifically. Only this time, she had done it to prevent herself from reading it and rereading it and mulling over it while she tried to sleep.

Naturally, she had memorized it. And so burning it had accomplished nothing.

So now she sat in her place beside Vikus and Lapblood. Hevander was moving the day’s issue along at a steady pace. Luxa had not seen the rushers or Narianne since the day they were ejected from the meeting. That could also have been due to her shutting herself away to read scrolls and scrolls of history and dates and council decisions for the last week.

But despite that, right now all Luxa could think about was how quickly everything was coming at her.

Vikus had told Hevander Gregor was on his way, accompanying Nike. It was a move that Luxa might have once reacted to with a week long silence. She could not afford to cut off an channel here, and so she bore it. Unhappily, but she did it.

When Aurora had told Ares about Gregor, their friend had reverted to how he’d been before. He was unresponsive, though he mechanically went through his physical therapy. Aurora had taken to sleeping near him, and had since reported that he often woke up screaming. Just as Ripred had reported.

As things stood, she felt as if her only true allies in the city were Aurora and Lapblood. A thought she refused to dwell on while engaging with the day to day necessities. Except that the necessities were largely absent; She wasn’t needed here. In fact, if it were not for Ares, she may have already have returned home. 

Today was the day Gregor was supposed to arrive. The escort party had already been sent to meet with the incoming group. And so, despite the hundred other things Luxa had to think about, it was a single thought that kept surfacing up to the forefront of her mind despite her best efforts. What would she say to him?

She could hear Ripred’s voice telling her to just say whatever she had been wanting to put in the letters she never got around to writing. That was the easy answer. The only problem was that there had been reasons she never wrote them. She could barely put ink to scroll, so how would she put thoughts to voice?

Was he faring well the last two years? Poorly? Was it that simple? What would he have to say to her? Was he mad about her lack of correspondence or had he accepted that they would never speak again? Would he even care? No doubt his own thoughts were entirely focused on Ares. Because why else would he be coming to Petras if Ripred had not told him about Ares?

“Luxa?”

Luxa snapped out of her spiral. She had not even realized she had lapsed into such a storm of thoughts. Vikus was watching her with concern. He reached out to feel at her forehead, but Luxa stood up and put herself out of reach as casually as she could manage.

“Yes?”

“You look ill. Is everything alright?”

“There is much to do today,” Luxa said, composing herself, “I am merely anticipating how tired it will make me.”

Vikus seemed to accept that, nodding with misplaced understanding.

“He will be elated to see you again,” Vikus said, “regardless of the circumstances bringing him here.”

Luxa fought off a warmth blossoming across her face. Perhaps his understanding was not so misplaced after all.

The day’s discussions ended early in anticipation for the new arrivals. Luxa took the opportunity of the crowd to disappear before Vikus or Hevander or anyone could suggest lunch plans with her. She wanted to work her thoughts out, and to do that meant finding some quiet. She stopped only briefly to have one of her people inform Aurora that she would not be going straight to the hospital.

She found her quiet in a room adjacent to one of the libraries of scrolls she had been frequenting the past week. After the first batch she’d had sent to her quarters, one of the locals had told her the libraries were open to anyone. Somehow, the same room had always been available for her after her first visit. One of the scroll-keepers were making sure it was so, perhaps.

She sat there for a moment, blissful in the silence. Her mind was settled, though she knew that would not last long. She relaxed back into the chair and let out a long sigh. She heard a scraping sound on the stone outside of the curtain to her room and tensed up. A voice spoke from just outside of the curtain.

“You sound stressed, your highness.”

Luxa breathed out again, letting the tension relax from her muscles. She stood up and walked to the curtain, pushing it aside. Lapblood was there, and she smiled when she saw Luxa.

“I am stressed, general,” Luxa said, emphasizing her disdain for Lapblood’s use of her own title. Lapblood took it in stride, as was her way.

“You’ve been winding up tighter all week. Might it have anything to do with your research?”

Luxa frowned. She had not told anyone, not even Vikus or Lapblood, about what she was up to. She considered the requests she had made the week before, asking for scrolls to be sent to her room. Some may have puzzled out her goal. Word would have spread.

“Yes,” Luxa said, deciding that it would be both immature to feign ignorance as well as detrimental to what she wanted, “I have uncovered some things that would silence even Vikus over his zealous adherence that Petras is a peaceful place built on coexistence and harmony.”

Luxa gestured for Lapblood to join her inside of the room fully. Lapblood did so, and she closed the curtain with a flick of her tail. 

“Leave it open,” Luxa said, “the librarians are told to linger outside of curtained doors to await requests from occupants.”

Lapblood complied and settled in one of the corners of the room, which was spacious enough for several humans or half as many gnawers. But Lapblood often eschewed the seating that was made specifically for gnawers. Luxa lowered herself back into the cushioned seat she had been using and tried to decide on where to begin. When she did, she kept her voice as low as she felt would not raise suspicion in anyone passing by.

“Ripred mentioned to me before he left how this place felt ‘too chummy’. I picked up on the feeling, as well, though I assumed it was for the same reasons he gave. I thought that I was too unwilling to see a good thing when it was slapping me in the face. But it has been slapping me, and all of us. Only to distract us from the truth.”

Lapblood leaned in closer, and her eyes flicked to the door. Luxa did the same, but nobody was there. She continued.

“You know about the recent attempt at a coup,” Luxa said, “but I have copied several scrolls that indicate an ongoing conflict with the rushers and several past invasions of the gnawers kingdoms to the eats of Petras.”

“Indicate?”

Luxa nodded. “That is the part that strikes me. There is nothing in any of the records brought to me that outright state these facts or admit to any sort of war. No battles. Not even poor relations. But there are signs. Little things. A sudden ending of trade agreements, or the food distribution in the city lowering.”

“These things may also indicate a bad harvest year,” Lapblood said. Luxa did not take the comment to heart. Lapblood was good at offering ideas to bounce off of, even if she did not really believe the ideas herself.

“I considered that line of thought,” Luxa said, “but the records are near identical to records I recall laboring over back in Regalia. I was shown records of previous wars that Regalia and the Fount fought going back two hundred years. They all pointed to similar environments; Trade agreements slashed or renegotiated, food distribution rationed because so much of the food was being sent with the armies into other lands, and, most damning, an allocation of resources to lands not previously held.”

“Regalia keeps records of those things? Accurately?”

“Of course we do. I can not speak to the accuracy of the past few hundred years, but our historical scribes have no conflicts of interest. It is a prerequisite for their practice. This way they are not influenced to change or omit anything.”

Lapblood gave Luxa a look that clearly indicated that she wondered about the accuracy of those histories. Luxa had started to wonder the same thing, so she sighed and shrugged. Luxa herself had even needed to intervene and ensure that records were made at all concerning the development of the plague and what had resulted from creating it. She wondered how many past horrors had been dreamed up by her people and then shrouded from history. Still…

“Even if the details of the exploits were altered, the numbers would be accurate. The numbers are what matters.”

“Fair enough,” Lapblood said, “Do you believe that Petras is putting up a front for us? Hiding a darker intent than we believe?”

“I am not sure, to be frank. Saxon was a genuine diplomat. And Narianne admitted freely to me the details of her family’s involvement in the coup attempt. But any place that attempts to hide their wrongdoing like this… I am on edge because I do not know what to expect.”

“Expect nothing different than what we go through every day back home,” Lapblood said, “assassination attempts, political drag, and the constant pulling of rugs from beneath our feet. If this place is so intent on hiding a past similar to our own, then it seems to me we should treat it like home.”

“But it is not just the past, Lapblood,” Luxa said. There was a reason she had not slept the night before. Gregor returning to them had been weighing on her, but she had found something extra in her delivered records.

Luxa stood up and crossed the room. She shut the curtain and kneeled down in the corner opposite of Lapblood. Unlike other places in the government sector of the city, the library, and these rooms, were only carved part of the way. They had been added to by human artisans, and so the floor was cobbled instead of just carved. She shifted one of the stones and retrieved several scrolls.

“I did a cursory search of the place when it was offered to me,” Luxa explained to a raised eyebrow from Lapblood. I carved that little spot out myself on the second day using the room.”

She set the scrolls out on the table and moved to close the curtain. She gave Lapblood a look. They would read these in silence. Lapblood nodded and settled in to read. Luxa skimmed whichever ones Lapblood was not currently absorbing, reminding herself of details. When Lapblood had finished some time later, she looked as troubled as Luxa felt.

Luxa stood up and returned to scrolls to the hiding spot. She moved to the curtain and opened it. She found a young man there, waiting patiently.

“Oh dear,” Luxa said, putting a hand to her chest, “I am so sorry, um, Angelo?”

The librarian nodded, smiling.

“I apologize. I forgot to keep the curtain open. I am only trying to get some sorely needed sleep before the arrivals today. I am afraid I have wasted your time.”

“No time wasted at all, your highness,” Angelo said, inclining his head in a bow that many of those who were not her subject had adopted with her, “I was glad to be waiting just in the off-chance you may have needed something.”

“I appreciate that, but you may go. I will be leaving shortly.”

Angelo gave another sort-of bow and walked off at an efficient pace. Regardless of his assurance that not time was wasted, Luxa knew the librarians were very busy. She turned back in and gave Lapblood a significant look.

“Luxa, the implications-”

“Yes. And I mean to inform Vikus as well, when the chance arises.”

“Is that wise?”

“I understand that line of thinking,” Luxa said, “but we are several hundred miles from home, surrounded by uncertainty, and in a den of abject liars. We can not afford to leave any of our allies out of the loop. My grandfather will see reason. He can be a fool, but he is no idiot.”

Luxa heard a sound in the hall and looked back out past the doorway. The crawler she had sent to tell Aurora where she would be scurried up to her. Luxa kneeled, as was her way when speaking with the crawlers, and let her speak.

“Send me, Vikus asks, send me. Arriving, Arrivals are, arriving.”

Luxa nodded. “Thank you, Wim, will you accompany us?”

Wim nodded and Luxa turned to Lapblood again. She was on her feet and Luxa stepped out into the hall to let her join them. Luxa took a deep breath, pushing away the reality of their situation for a moment. Another trial lay before her. Lapblood was kind enough to voice her concern for her.

“Well, at least we’ll have some more allies to join us in our uneasiness. Let’s go and see Gregor.”

Chapter Text

Ripred was impressed by how silent the cavern was, given the situation. Not surprised, but definitely impressed. Considering that the space was occupied by by two dozen creatures, the feat was worth that much. In the faint torchlight, something put into place for the few humans among them, Ripred noted representatives of nearly every species involved in the War of Time. Diggers were the only exception, since Ripred had not spent enough time with one in order to trust it enough.

It. Ripred would chide himself for being so crass as to refer to a living creature as it, but even after two years, they knew so little about the diggers that they might as well have been the rocks they carved through so easily. Even flutterers and slimers felt less alien, and he was pretty sure neither of their species were even capable of speaking other languages. Not that he’d ever deigned to try.

Each creature watched Ripred watching them. Some bore curious expressions, and others anxious. Some even looked bored. But Ripred saw past all of those masks. He hand-picked these people from the roughs of each of their peers. He’d spent the better part of the last two years getting to know each one of them. 

He knew that Zex rubbed her two front appendages together to feign nervousness. It was her way of putting the warm-bloods of the group at ease since spinners didn’t feel emotion the same way they did. He knew Teven put up a stoic front, arms crossed and jaw squared, but he could do nothing about the scent of confusion and fear always wafting off of him. Even Amadine was putting up a front, though Ripred had practically ordered that so taking credit for seeing through it was hardly fair.

Then there was Crovus to worry about. He had shown up, on schedule with Clawsin and Anglean, and had not spoken a word since. Now he was watching Ripred with what could only be borderline hostility. So the question was whether that was his usual mean-mugging or if it was coming from elsewhere.

“I believe in one thing,” Ripred said, “and that one thing is honesty.”

Ripred walked in an even line, down the length of his gathering, catching eyes and judging reactions to his sudden address. Vermeer picked at his clothes, twitchy. Panelo’s ears ticked up, tail rigid and attention focused.

“What is our primary objective?” I ask you all to consider that as I progress through this meeting. As a group, what is our goal?”

Ripred level his gaze at Corvus, though he did not linger on him any longer than the others. His expression remained as it had been. He didn’t flinch, and neither did Herzod, the flier next to him. Clawsin, however, shrunk beneath Ripred’s eyes. Hardly a profound observation, but it was worth noting.

“None of you have anything to fear,” Ripred said, tail lazily flicking about as he doubled back down the line, “so long as you don’t have a reason to.

It will be common knowledge by now that the Overlander most widely known as The Warrior has returned to the underland. You’ll also know that another prophecy is the reason for his return. That he is currently in Petras per the demands of this prophecy.”

Ripred watched each of them, noting every twitch and every expression shift. He needed everything from all of them. Anything less could spell disaster. If Corvus had help among this group, Ripred would find them.

“Of course, you will also have put together that the prophecy itself was privileged information until after The Warrior was already here. He was, of course, coerced into returning by someone here.”

Ripred paused there, waiting. The people he had chosen were not long to be cowed. Before a minute had passed, a gnawer stepped forward. 

“How can you be so sure it was one of us?” the gnawer asked, “it seems to me that this has all happened too fast to be sure of anything.”

“Well posited, Devit,” Ripred said with a sneer. Though they were not easy to put down, it wasn’t for a lack of Ripred trying. “I am sure of this fact because I dealt with the fallout of the matter personally.”

Ripred narrowed his eyes at Devit, who had stepped back.

Rishi, a fiery nibbler was next to speak up.

“How would any of us been able to communicate with him? He relocated after he returned to the Overland. None of us know his current home, save for perhaps you. I ask you elaborate, for the sake of transparency.”

“You know I spoke with him, Rishi, don’t be contrarian just for the sake of it. Not in present company. There are other ways to learn the information you speak of. Not every rat that lives above ground is under my command. Scant few are, frankly. And the rats are far from the only puppets we can utilize upstairs. There are a dozen or more ways to find out where he lives. Someone obviously did, or else we wouldn’t be here, now would we?”

Rishi bowed his head, though he was smiling as if Ripred had graced him with the wisdom of the ages. Ripred rolled his eyes, feeling as if he himself had just been manipulated. Not that he’d been hiding anything he’d just said. He continued. “And, to touch on the communication angle; The boy was communicating with somebody using a streamstone vein. One that I am positive is outside of our own web.”

“He knew of the streamstone?” Clawsin asked, “the boy?”

Ripred honed in on Clawsin. Clawsin met his eye without a show of fear, though he stunk of nerves. The outburst from him was telling, even without a coinciding reaction to Ripred’s attention. Already irritated by Rishi’s, admittedly far more clever way of making Ripred talk, Ripred felt less than bad about taking some of his frustration out on Clawsin.

“No, Clawsin. He didn’t. Luckily, I’m capable of deducing simple conclusions from minimal information. You might try it sometime.”

Some laughter echoed about the cavern. Ripred was glad to hear them more at ease. But that didn’t mean he was going to let this scene alienate someone who may not be his enemy. Clawsin was hardly a mastermind after all. Not incapable of betrayal, as he had switched sides twice now, but malice was low on Clawsin’s motivators. Highest was fear, and Ripred was confident that he was what inspired the most fear in Clawsin presently.

“Nobody giggle. You’re all much in the same way,” Ripred said, “we need to discuss our next steps from here. Although someone here went behind my back and coerced the Overlander to return, events are in motion that demand quick action. So let me be frank with you.

“One of you has effectively turned coat in my eyes. Voluntarily Step forward, be ostracized and hated but leave this cave alive. Because if I have to sniff you out, and I will, then you can be sure that you’ll be dead before the week’s end.”

“Nobody? Good, I- ah! Corvus.” Ripred’s tail flicked side to side as Corvus took a step forward. “Corvus, I can see that you’re not as stupid as I believed these past several days.”

“This is not an admission of betrayal, Ripred,” Corvus said, “merely an explanation for the part I played in ‘coercing’ The Warrior back here. I’m sure that Callus already ratted about me, besides.”

Ripred grinned and ugly grin at the use of the word ‘ratted’. The man had gall, that was for sure.

“Callus found proof that Sandwich left more behind than just what is found in the Room of Prophecies. I chose to hear him out. I believed that his interpretations that the Warrior would be needed were clear enough. I acted within that belief that he would be needed.”

“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to rehearse your lines, Corvus, true though they may be. But finding proof that Sandwich recorded his visions outside of the prophecy room is hardly unprecedented. You will recall the prophecy discovered in the palace nursery in Regalia? Surely you read about it. Lady Nerissa sent out a thorough missive regarding it not long after the war ended.” Ripred spoke the facts plainly, careful to keep his own opinions regarding Sandwich from his breakdown. He was, after all, the Peacemaker by the man’s own decree.

“I read the scroll, but that only proves the validity of my actions,” Corvus said, “That there is an exception already-”

“I am not trying to call the writing’s validity into question! I am calling your actions into question,” Ripred sneered. For a moment, he felt the buzz of the rager breach his self-imposed defenses. The all-too-familiar buzzing was unwelcome when he was working. He squashed it back down without issue, reclaiming his deadly temper. “You went above my head.”

“I went over your head because the issue was not of your concern. I acted with Regalia’s interests in mind. With The Fount’s interests. Surely you will not fault me my allegiance.”

“I surely will, Corvus. When you agreed to work for me, you agreed to put myself, and this group, above your other priorities,” Ripred said. He was finally getting the discussion to where he wanted it to be. There was more to his betrayal than he was letting on. “Even so, I do not lack understanding. And I am capable of understanding, regardless of what the rest of the world might say.”

Nobody laughed that time. Ripred barely noticed. He was locked in on Corvus and would not ease up for the sake of the room.

“So. Talk to me about the discoveries Callus made. Even now, Callus is working to decipher those texts. What say you to how they have been deciphered thus far?”

“What does it matter what I think? I am no scholar.”

“Ah, but you were so eager to involve yourself nonetheless, Corvus. You must have an opinion if you went so far as to step foot into the Overland to aid Callus. I could ask him, probably will whatever you say, but I should like to hear it from you first. Despite myself, I find myself hoping you won’t do the stupid thing and make me rip you to shreds. You’re leaving a fairly significant detail out of your tale.”

“And what is that?”

“You won’t come clean freely? Okay.

"Then allow me to elaborate for the rest of the team,” Ripred said, “you see, Corvus got up to some trouble. He went behind my back and attempted to kidnap the Overlander. Even threatened him. Had his subordinates attack him.”

“We did kidnap The Warrior,” Corvus sneered. Ripred let out a sharp laugh.

“No. He allowed you to take him. He could have killed all four of you with ease. The boy’s a rager, Corvus, and one I personally saw to training when I could. Lissa and Armin bear the proof of that ability. Idiots, all four of you.”

Ripred was careful to only hint at the possibility that he’d been at their little secret hideaway. Make the man double think anything he was going to say. Make him wonder if Ripred was on to him for more than just his involvement with Callus, which he increasingly sure the man was. The question then, was what exactly the involvement was.

“For what it’s worth, I do believe you,” Ripred said. Corvus eyed him warily. What was the man up to? What did he need Gregor for? And who was he working with? “Nothing you have said goes against what Callus has told me.”

Corvus remained silent. He lost some of the edge he’d come into the cavern with. Was that relief? And if so, what weight had been lifted? Was he glad that he’d come clean and was done with his misguided adventure? Or was he glad to have put Ripred off the scent of his other misdeeds? 

It was the latter, of course. The man had not mentioned having a gnawer cover for him. Which meant he believed he had gotten away with that little trick. And so there was still someone else helping him. And someone in this very cavern, if Ripred had to place a bet; Their code was complicated enough that it would take time to teach someone and Corvus was no teacher.

Ripred hummed. his tail came up and slapped at the back of Corvus’s head. Corvus stumbled, crying out with anger. Ripred ignored him, looking behind him at the gathering.

“Clawsin. Over here. Amadine, Anglean, you as well.”

The three names hurried over while Corvus continued to hiss and curse. The others near him shied away from his anger. Good. Let him stew in it. Let him boil and seethe and take a misstep as a result of it. 

“You three, I am disappointed in,” Ripred said when the three he’d called presented themselves. “I chose everyone in this cave for one reason or another. The one thing you all have in common is that you’re exceptional in specific skills I need. Exceptionally stupid, too it seems. Amadine, your lack of an ability to remain where I post you is a disservice to everything we do. You get one more chance before I decide I’m sick of you. Do not make another mistake like this again.”

Amadine was stiff, but took the dressing down with an uncanny mixture of stoicism and hidden seething. She was good. He grilled the other two, as well. Thoroughly and without empathy. And he was loud about it. When he was done, he ordered them back among their peers, where they stewed like Corvus. Ripred, pleased with his himself, settled in for the rest of his work.

The meeting dragged on from there, with Ripred grilling every single member of the team on their whereabouts during the week leading up to Callus’s foray into the Overland. And then he let everyone go. With individual orders that would change up their original placements.

His gathering trickled out, preparing for long treks back to posts and grumbling about standing around a cavern all day. Several shot Corvus nasty looks, though Ripred was content to let the man leave without further trouble from him. 

When he was alone, he allowed himself to begin to think.

Corvus wasn’t working alone. He had, at the bare minimum, one accomplice. An individual who was a gnawer. That narrowed it down to six. Although, Ripred wasn’t infallible. It was possible he’d made an error in judgement. Nibblers and gnawers sounded similar enough when scratching out code that the one he’d heard could have been a nibbler as well. Taking into account cultural affinities with humans and histories both recent and past, it seemed irresponsible not to suspect one even over a gnawer. 

Despite that, his intuition told him it wasn’t one of the nibblers. the nibblers he’d recruited were more outspoken than others, sure enough, but they were still fairly timid compared to the other species. Save for Rishi, who was as outspoken as anyone could be.

Ripred scratched at his chest, mind working hard as he considered his next move. Of course, there wasn’t a lot he could personally do now. He would have to wait for Amadine to play her part. And he had set her up as best he could for that part. The rest was up to her, but Ripred was confident she would manage.

At least Gregor would be arriving in Petras… today? Tomorrow? Soon, at least. That was a weight off his shoulders. With Gregor in play over there, he could take his mind off of the concerns of that part of the world for now.

He sighed and yawned, the strain of the day catching up with him. Even after sleeping, his body was still making up for all the lost time recently. He figured he should find a place to sleep. As that thought crossed his mind, he felt his stomach churn.

But, he compromised, first he would find something to eat.

Chapter Text

Gregor wasn’t exactly sure what about Petras made the city feel so underwhelming.

The city was definitely that, at the very least; A city. Yep, a whole lot of buildings and a whole lot of movement between those buildings. City was the correct word. It was a different shape and building style than he’d seen in the Underland. But still…

Long, wide roads cut through the city from north to south and also east to west, so that the plan was divided into four slices when looked at from the ridge looking over it. The paths that ramped up the sides of the barrel-shaped cavern’s walls were neat, he supposed. And he was intrigued by what seemed to be roads that lead down into the ground in some places. But overall the place felt... lacking.

While he walked along with the rest of the group, taking in the city from new angles as they moved, he began to reminisce about walking through the main streets of Regalia for the first time. He recalled how awestruck he’d been. But Petras lacked the majesty of Regalia’s ornate buildings and proud, hard-worked roads. Was it just nostalgia, then?

No, not just nostalgia. Gregor realized, as they ventured down a path leading toward the cavern wall on their left, that the buildings were constructed rather than carved. Stones packed together with some sort of mortar. They looked a little how Gregor imagined medieval towns might look, minus the horses and wooden shacks.

They passed a half dozen different species that Gregor was familiar with. People, rats, and roaches moved along and only some seemed interested in them. Bats filled the air in the way Gregor was used to seeing in Regalia, as well. He even spied the occasional spider, though with their sensitivities, he wasn’t too surprised by their underrepresentation. There were some notable exceptions, too. There were no mice that he could see, for one. And the people were dressed just differently enough to stand out from how he was used to seeing Regalians dress.

Gregor squinted his eyes as something flew by, an accompanying buzz battering his ears. He watched it disappear into a cave or tunnel further up the cavern wall with no path leading to it. Another flew by and Gregor recognized what it was this time.

“Whoa, didn’t know you guys had dragonflies…” Gregor said. Stellovet was looking at the bug as well, and he saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye.

“I am unfamiliar with that species, myself…”

Cool. Gregor sighed as the dragonfly disappeared into the same tunnel as the one before it. He was in a strange, shockingly underwhelming, new place. They all were.

Luckily -or not- however he felt about where they were was completely overrun by a twisting uncertainty as they began to file into a courtyard with decorative carvings and some sort of water feature moving through it.

“Their aqueducts are far more efficient than ours,” Stellovet said, and Gregor raised an eyebrow. Stellovet nodded at the water feature and Gregor noted that it did continue off the side of the cliff along a raised path. Like in pictures he'd seen in textbooks at school. Gregor supposed that would be something she would notice, being the daughter of a governor. 

Waiting for them in the open space, lit well by torches, was a large group. Several were obviously from Regalia as they greeted friends from the arrivals. Others were representing their hosts, by the way they dressed and acted. In the bustle of greetings, Gregor was shunted away to the fringe of the gathering. There, he ran into a familiar face. Gregor couldn’t help but grin at seeing Vikus. The man looked older, and he used a cane to support himself, but Gregor would have recognized that smile anywhere. 

“Gregor the Overland,” Vikus said, cane clacking as he walked over to meet the group, “Princess Nike. I welcome you both to Petras with a full heart.”

Gregor looked over his shoulder to see Nike separating from the group as well, looking flustered.

Vikus bowed his head slightly at the annoyed Nike. But she let him use her title and bowed back. He stood before Gregor, smiling. Gregor smiled back, feeling an odd combination of happiness and anxiety at seeing the man. 

“Good to see you, Vikus,” Gregor said.

“It is good to see you as well,” Vikus said, “surprised though I am. I wish very much to ask how it is you have come to be with us once more, but it will have to wait until everyone is settled. I would like to speak with Anton before we-”

Vikus cut short, looking confused.

“Hello, grandfather.” Stellovet stepped up next to Gregor, and Vikus raised an eyebrow.

“It would seem as though today is one for surprises,” Vikus said.

“Pleasant ones, I hope,” Stellovet said. Vikus seemed to recover and smiled.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Stellovet,” Vikus said, “though I find it difficult to imagine York had a recent change of heart and became suddenly amicable to your wishes to join us here.”

Stellovet gave an exaggerated shrug.

“If I were to wait for my father to become amicable to my wishes, I would have remained five years old all of this time.”

Vikus laughed. He spotted Anton as the man approached and raised a hand in greeting. Stellovet inclined her head to Gregor, gesturing to follow. Gregor did, and when they were out of earshot of Vikus, Stellovet spoke.

“We had better go ahead and find out where the hospital is. Otherwise, Vikus will have you sequestered away for a time,” she said. Gregor felt his stomach squirm. Not only was he anxious about Ares, but now something else wormed about in his gut.

“Shouldn’t we find Luxa first?” he said. Stellovet crossed her arms.

“My dear cousin is capable of living an hour more without your watchful eye, Overlander. You are avoiding this, and it strikes me quite odd. Were it I, and Eupraxia was waiting in a hospital room after miraculously resurrecting, I would have been by his side already.”

Gregor frowned, catching another hint of something very Luxa-like in the way Stellovet spoke the words. Judgmental, with a healthy amount of exasperation. He nodded in response and turned about, wondering who they could ask.

Stellovet tapped his shoulder and gestured again for him to follow. They walked up to one of the humans who had come to meet them and asked her. The woman, flustered, -Gregor was sure because she found herself abruptly speaking to an Overlander- quickly began describing the path, and she'd just finished when a general hush had fallen over those gathered in the courtyard.

Gregor turned and noticed a handful of new arrivals. He felt his rager sense agitate. Confused by the feeling, he frowned and watched the newcomers. Among them was a tall man, muscular and broad-shouldered. His hair was styled in a way that gave Gregor pause. It wasn’t an odd style per se, but it was not one he’d seen any Underlander use before. Of course, he hadn’t seen many of the locals.

There was something else, but Gregor's focus was drawn to the scars on the man’s forearms. They were much more obvious than Gregor’s own; Where someone would have to squint to see the numerous scars that crisscrossed Gregor’s arms, the ones the man had were deep and jagged and obvious right away.

Gregor could recall each incident that had scarred him, and each had been pretty rough. The squid especially, though it was mostly the aftermath that had sucked. He wondered what that man had gone through to get those.

Vikus was speaking to the man , introducing Anton. Nike stood nearby and bowed when Vikus got to her. The man returned the bow, a broad smile across his face. Gregor fought off a grimace, feeling his nerves tingle at the sight of the guy. It wasn’t far off from how he remembered feeling before going into battle.

Gregor shook the thoughts off. He'd ask Vikus about him later. For now, he-

“Gregor, Stellovet!”

Gregor’s attention snapped to Vikus, standing beside the man. Vikus was waving them to come back and Stellovet sighed.

“Too slow,” she said. Gregor, mouth dry, breathed a laugh.

“Too slow,” he agreed, trying to work some mirth into his voice.

They made their way over and Vikus got right down to the business of introducing them.

“And here are our surprise arrivals. I mentioned Gregor to you, but my granddaughter here decided she could not be outdone. Stellovet, this is Hevander. Hevander, Stellovet. My granddaughter, and Queen Luxa’s cousin.”

“A pleasure, dear. You are as beautiful as your cousin, and if you are as equally witty and wise then you shall be a delight to host indeed,” Hevander said, offering a hand and bending down to kiss Stellovet’s when she offered hers. Gregor felt a twitch of reflex when Hevander touched her. There was no time to consider that, as Gregor was placed into the line of fire next. Not by Vikus, though.

“And you must be the Overlander,” Hevander said, smiling. He offered a hand to Gregor and Gregor forced himself to accept it. Gregor shook his hand and made himself grin despite the unease he felt. He ignored the hairs on his arm standing on end.

“What was your first clue to that?” he wondered if he should speak like that to someone who was obviously in charge in some way, but he figured it was better to put forward a witty face than a nervous one. Hevander laughed.

“The shade of your skin, mostly, I think,” he said, and he withdrew his hand, “I will not lie to you, Gregor the Overlander. I have heard much of your time in the Underland. Your exploits have kept me considerably riveted over lunches with Vikus.”

Gregor looked at Vikus, who had the decency to look guilty and smile an apology. Gregor, feeling as if he’d been forced off his footing in a fight, gritted his teeth and continued.

“I wish I could say the same about you,” he said. Ripred didn’t mention you , he thought. He wondered why that was. The rat had mentioned that things were done differently here, but to what extent did that even mean? Gregor was beginning to wonder just how dense the task ahead was. What else had he not been told?

“I am confident we shall have the chance to rectify that,” Hevander said, and he turned to address the others around him “but for now I wish to officially invite you all into Petras. It is a wonderful place, and I am sure that it will not be difficult to find someone willing to show you around. Our people are just as curious about you all as you are of us.”

As Hevander turned to leave, and everyone around them went back to conversations, Gregor felt a nudge. Stellovet looked pointedly from him to the entry into the building mentioned by the woman before. She intercepted Vikus, who was turning to speak to him again, and Gregor slipped away.

When he had walked down a length of the adjacent hallway, and he was sure he was alone, Gregor put his back against a wall and breathed out a lengthy sigh. The weight that had settled over him in that courtyard was heavier here. 

Just hours ago, he had been in high spirits. He, Stellovet, and Nike had all been commiserating about the journey. He’d been laughing. Now? Well, now he felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. 

That had been when the next step was seeing Petras for the first time. And then after that had been seeing Vikus again. Now the next step was the long walk to the hospital to see Ares. 

The brain can do some pretty incredible things when it needs to dissociate, Gregor recalled his dad saying to him before when he’d opened up one night about not being as bothered by his nightmares so much. Not long after that, Gregor had spoken to Larry and Angelina again since coming home. And not the basic pleasantries he’d been forcing himself through during their walks home, but really talked to them. When you wanted something bad enough, you could distance yourself from the things you dread. 

Gregor felt sick.

How long had it been since he was forced back to the Underland? He added the days up in his head, feeling his head begin to pound from the effort of keeping himself together. The journey here had taken a little more than a week. A week and a half, at most, though it was difficult to tell. And he’d been in the Fount for two days before that. So it had been roughly two weeks. His family must be terrified.

As if the latest barrage of worries hadn’t been enough, yet another occurred to him as he stood there. Would his family relapse and revert to the state they had been in, back when the Underland had been their daily reality? Would his dad become sick again? Would Lizzie have had her first panic attack in months, all because of him?

“Damn it,” Gregor grunted.

He forced himself to keep walking down the hall. He had to make himself move. At this point, it was a survival mechanism. Gregor struggled down a flight of stairs and wondered if they were actually the ones the woman had instructed him to take or if he’d taken an early turn.

Running a hand through his hair, he revisited his conversation with Nike. About what the point of all of this was. He had agreed to help Ripred. But why? What was the basic reasoning behind choosing that path?

I did it to help my friends.

But what about his family? And what about Larry and Angie? They counted as friends, so how was this helping them? His friends here weren’t the only people who needed him. But they did need him. No, that was wrong. Ripred didn’t need him. He had made that very clear. 

A voice in his head broke through the furious race of confusion he was driving himself into.

“You wanted this.”  

Gregor stopped walking. He’d reached his destination. the baby blue curtain at the end of the hall with the word ‘recovery’ chiseled into the stone above it. His mind, so full and chaotic, grew silent. his worries and anxiousness about Ares remained, but he was able to focus on solely this singular dread. It was almost serene despite the culmination of all of those thoughts being behind this door.

Well, this curtain, anyway.

He wasn’t sure how long it had taken him to get here. Or how long he stood there looking at the curtain, trying to convince himself to just reach out and open the damn thing. It was a sheet of cloth! That was all! The heaviest piece of cloth he’d ever encountered.

Somehow, at some point, someone had come to stand beside him. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Gregor? Shall we go in together?”

Gregor looked anyway to find Luxa standing there. She was watching him, violet eyes alive in the torchlight. She looked older. Her features were sharper and more shapely, her hair longer than he’d last seen it. But it was her. She offered her hand to him.

Gregor nodded and accepted her offer. Holding tightly to her hand, and comforted by the steadiness of her grip, Gregor reached out and pulled the curtain aside.

Chapter Text

Gregor watched Ares. But Luxa watched Gregor.

His hand, held in her own, was cold. But her grip was firm, and she hoped that was providing some comfort. She refused to give attention to how tightly he squeezed. Gregor’s attention had not left Ares for some minutes, but Luxa was content to wait. She would not leave his side.

What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Luxa could imagine some of it. The shock. The confusion. Perhaps even the pain. Everything she had felt, and more. She could see him trying to parse through it. His lips parting and closing as if he were trying to form words and his eyes tracked Ares with a fervor. He was rigid from his shoulders to his feet, otherwise.

He mouthed something again, but this time, a hoarse whisper escaped his throat.

“He’s alive.”

That is right, Luxa thought, Ares is right there.

She said nothing out loud. She would let him initiate. And so the two of them stood there, connected by clammy hands, and Luxa continued to wait. And while she waited, she could not help but consider Gregor further.

Gregor was very much still the boy from her memory, looking down at her as a rock was slid between them. It had only been two years, naturally, but there were differences in his appearance. His jawline was more defined, and his shoulders more broad. Her eyes worked down, intending to look at his hand in hers, but she lingered on his arms. They were thicker, if only slightly, and faintly criss-crossed with scars that vanished beyond the shirt sleeve at his upper-arm and ended at his wrist. Amidst those scars would have been others, proof of a squid attack that felt too long ago now, though she could not make them out beneath the others.

Luxa suddenly felt exhausted. And just a little dizzy. She and Lapblood had intended to join everyone in the courtyard, but Luxa had decided otherwise at the last moment. She had broken away from Lapblood with a lame excuse and found an unoccupied hallway to catch her breath in. Now she was here, and she realized that her own distractions had worked too well. She had not spared a thought for how seeing Gregor again might make her feel.

She had simply moved her legs in the direction she knew he would be. Now her mind was finally catching up.

Almost without thought, she squeezed his hand. She hoped to get his attention, to get him to look at her. She wished that she had not, because he did look at her and she had nothing to say.

His eyes were surprisingly focused when they met her own. Her heart beat terribly against the inside of her chest and she wondered if he could feel her increased pulse in their hands. Then again, if she could not tell, then neither could he. She screamed her own nerves into submission and forced herself to be present.

“Hey,” he said finally.

“Hi.”

Gregor smiled and squeezed her hand back.

“Thanks,” he said, “for this.”

“You did much the same for me, once.”

“I guess I did,” Gregor said with a nod, “You nearly broke my hand.”

Luxa felt the tension ease just a bit, and she laughed. She lifted their hands and nodded at them.

“If you would like to take your revenge on me now…”

“Nah. It would be a bad look if the first thing I did here was break some of your bones.”

“Nearly break,” Luxa said with a shake of her head, “I am offering you to nearly break them.”

Luxa knew it was a weak rebuttal, but she wanted to keep the conversation moving. To keep him talking, because if he talked then she at least had something to respond to. She was afraid that if there was too long of a pause that he would remember they were strangers now. 

Gregor snorted, though she could tell his mirth came with effort. He looked back at Ares, his attention absorbed again. Her selfish ploy had failed, but it was little wonder why. So instead of saying anything else, Luxa turned her own attention to the room beyond the glass as well. She noticed Aurora watching them. Ares had not noticed.

The nurse aiding Ares chose that moment to notice Aurora’s gaze and turned to to see Luxa and Gregor as well. Aurora said something to the nurse and she hurried over. She pushed through the curtain into the viewing room.

“Hello! This is quite a thing, I think,” the nurse said, wringing her hands together. Luxa thought her name was Kata, but there were a dozen nurses that rotated in and out to help the doctor responsible for Ares’s recovery. She beat down a surge of irritation at the nurse’s demeanor. The woman was obviously nervous at being around an Overlander. Saxon had mentioned that this part of the Underland had not seen one since before he himself had been young.

“I am afraid that I will need to consult with the head physician before I can allow you to see him. He is stronger physically, and his mental strain is markedly less severe today, but it is best to be safe, I think.”

Gregor frowned, looking less distracted for a moment and more conflicted.

“He’s that bad?”

“I would not say that he is bad, today, Overlander,” the nurse said, “but matters of the mind are complicated things. He is troubled. We simply do not wish to strain him further.”

Gregor seemed to want to say something else, but he stopped himself and nodded. The nurse, looking relieved, turned and left the room through the hallway curtain with a faint rustle of cloth. Luxa watched her go and then looked back into the room where Ares was still moving through the course while Aurora watched him.

“Is he that bad?”

Luxa was prepared for the repeat of the question. She nodded.

“He is. But he is better than when I got here, that much is true. How much were you told about what happened to him?”

“Most of it, I think. Two years here, alone and wasting away. His friends all too far away and too busy to care.”

Luxa could feel the pain in the words as Gregor spoke them. They were not fair to say, but she had thought similarly when she had first seen Ares. She would not chide Gregor for them. 

She wanted to ask him if he blamed himself like she blamed herself. She wanted to hear whether he was afraid of how he would react, so that she could better know how to reassure him. As it was, she could not find the voice. All she could do was keep his hand. That would have to be enough.

The whole thing was truly miserable, she decided. Made more-so by the idea that such a miracle as Ares’s could be the reason for such muddy thoughts. While they waited for the head physician, Luxa grasped at platitudes Vikus might have to offer. Each one felt hollow in her own ears, so she kept them to herself until the curtain behind them rustled again.

********

Gregor watched Ares struggle.

He was surprised by how calm he felt. Everything felt so simple and bright, as if the world miles underneath New York City had suddenly formed its own sun. Because there was Ares. His bond. His friend.

Alive.

Ares was moving through some kind of obstacle course set up in the room. Like the patients doing physical therapy at the hospital when they had visited Gregor’s grandma. His friend looked so thin and weak, too much like he had when he’d contracted the plague. It was hard not to view the scene as pitiful, though he doubted Ares would appreciate that.

Ares’s wings shuddered as he moved, and Gregor’s eyes wandered to the wing where he knew would be absent a claw. His hand squeezed tighter around Luxa’s as memories flashed through his mind. It was like he was holding that claw again.

Ares the flier I bond to you

He remembered clutching Ares’s claw as his friend lay dead on the stone floor of that awful cavern, blood pooling around them. He could feel the warm, blood-soaked fur against his cheek as he begged his friend not to leave him.

“Don’t go Ares, okay? Don’t.”

Nothing could survive a wound like that.

Our life and death are one, we two

He remembered how helpless he’d felt seeing Ares laying in a hospital bed, near to dead with the plague and how happy he’d felt when they had been able to fly together again.

He could envision himself sitting in the chair next to the bed Ares laid on. He’d been too weak to talk for a time, but when he got his strength back he and Gregor would talk for hours, and Ares would lament everything he’d put Gregor through.

Then they had flown again, and everything had been exactly as it should have.

In dark, in flame, in war, in strife

He recalled the pain of being slammed to the ground by a royally pissed Ares before their quest to kill the bane, his sneering face inches from Gregor’s. Ares had been right. Sure, he'd cried over Tick and lamented the deaths of other quest members, but when it had come down to it, Gregor had treated Ares like a horse to be steered as Gregor pleased. Gregor had been ignorant then, barely recognizing that the host of non-human life living in the dark places of the world was exactly that; Life. With joys and fears and hopes and problems like anyone else he’d ever known.

That trip across the waterway had shocked those reservations right out of him as he realized how much he actually cared about some of them. He could feel Twitchtip’s warm body pressed against his leg, and the indignation he’d felt when the others had left her to the whirlpool’s clutches. He could taste the metallic fear of watching the mites chase Ares down, threatening to strip him to the bone like they’d done Pandora. He remembered feeling sympathy for the Bane, a baby just like Boots, snuggling pathetically against his mother's corpse.

I save you as I save my life

The memory of him bonding with Ares was powerful in Gregor’s mind. The shock and disbelief on Ares’s face at Gregor’s silly attempts to save his life. Ares had believed then that he didn’t deserve to live after he’d betrayed Henry. But Gregor had forced him to keep going. 

They stood there, hand connected to claw, two strangers with nothing in common and who exchanged maybe a sentence of not-unkind words between them. One had just lost everything, and the other had gotten everything he’d ever wanted. 

Gregor could still feel the claw in his hand. From the bonding ceremony to the hospital bed where he’d been forced to let it go forever.

“He’s alive…”

Gregor flushed with shame for dreading this moment. He wanted nothing more than to rush into the room and apologize to his friend for everything. For anything, really. Because after two weeks of refusing to dwell on this moment, Gregor was ready to make up for all of it. His apprehension, though, kept him rooted to the spot. Would Ares even accept such meaningless words after spending two years here alone?

He felt a squeeze around his hand, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned away from Ares with some effort, and looked at his other reason for being here. Luxa was… well, she was Luxa. A little shorter than before, or probably he was a little taller, but it was her. He realized he had nothing to say. 

“Hey,” he said lamely. He saw the corner of Luxa’s mouth quirk up ever so slightly.

“Hi,” she said.

Gregor smiled, and gave her hand another squeeze in return. His mind felt a bit lighter, looking at her.

“Thanks for this.”

“You did much the same for me, once,” Luxa said.

“I guess I did,” Gregor said, nodding. It was almost uncanny, in fact. A glass wall. Ares on the other side of it. The two of them, hand in hand.

“You nearly broke my hand.”

He watched some of the tightness in Luxa’s face soothe over, and her shoulders relaxed. Was he as tense as that? Luxa lifted their hands up and raised an eyebrow at him.

“If you would like to take your revenge on me now…”

“Nah. It would be a bad look if the first thing I did here was break some of your bones.”

“Nearly break,” Luxa said, shaking her head, “I am offering you to nearly break them.”

Gregor managed a strained laugh for that. He reached for something, anything, else to say, but he had nothing. It didn’t escape him that he was standing here talking to Luxa for the first time in two years and their conversation had landed on breaking each other’s bones. Real smooth, Gregor. Real smooth.

He looked away, focusing back on Ares. From inside the room, Aurora watched them. He vaguely thought he should wave, but his body did not respond to the thought. There was also a nurse. Aurora said something to her and the nurse turned, seeing them for the first time.

Ares still had not looked over.

The nurse hurried over and came into the observation area through a second curtain that lead into the recovery room. The nurse looked flustered, but she spoke calmly enough.

“Hello! This is quite a thing, I think.”

Gregor fidgeted. The nurse was looking at him a whole lot like how Gregor remembered the Regalians looking at him the first couple of times he’d come around for a prophecy. Like he were more of a curiosity than someone like them.

“I am afraid,” she continued, “that I will need to consult with the head physician before I can allow you to see him. He is stronger physically, and his mental strain is markedly less severe today, but it is best to be safe, I think.”

Gregor frowned at that, feeling worry bubble up within him again at the mention of how exactly Ares was doing. He banished his awkwardness for the moment and looked at the nurse seriously.

“He’s that bad?”

“I would not say that he is bad, today, Overlander,” she said, smiling, though to Gregor it looked more like a grimace “but matters of the mind are complicated things. He is troubled. We simply do not wish to strain him further.”

Gregor had geared up a second question, but he bit his tongue before he opened his mouth to speak. medical staff were the same everywhere someone went, it seemed. They all treated visitors as if they were children who needed to have the truth severely sugar-coated. Except, he supposed, in some unique cases like Howard who would give it to you straight.

the nurse seemed relieved when Gregor nodded. She hurried out through the baby blue curtain back into the hall to fetch the doctor in charge. Gregor rolled his eyes and repeated the question to Luxa.

“Is he that bad?”

Luxa didn’t hesitate.

“He is,” she said, and Gregor chewed on the inside of his cheek as she spoke, “But he is better than when I got here, that much is true. How much were you told about what happened to him?”

Gregor thought back to his conversation with Ripred. He was pretty sure the rat hadn’t held anything back.

“Most of it, I think. Two years here, alone and wasting away.” Gregor looked back at Ares and felt his jaw tighten. “His friends all too far away and too busy to care.”

Silence fell between them, and Gregor wasn’t too shocked by that. He was honestly a little surprised by how much they had managed to say to one another. He’d heard the hesitance in Luxa’s words that he’d felt in his own. In a way, it was a relief. In another… well, he’d worried about things being weird. He could think about it later.

The curtain behind them rustled again. Gregor’s eyes remained locked on Ares even as he registered two other humans enter the area. The nurse from earlier, and, Gregor supposed, the head physician she’d mentioned. He forced himself to look away and at the doctor. The middle-aged woman, hair tied into a frazzled bun, smiled at Gregor in that way all veteran doctors did that put people at ease no matter the conditions.

“You must be Gregor,” she said, “I have heard some things about you.”

“Nothing bad I hope,” Gregor said, half mumbling. His throat felt stretched and even making sound was a chore. The doctor gave a short laugh, walking toward the viewing window to stand nearer to himself and Luxa. She bowed her head slightly at Luxa. She moved in a relaxed way, which Gregor supposed shouldn’t be surprising since these people technically were not Luxa’s subjects.

The doctor gestured through the window.

“Would you care to see him?”

Gregor stiffened. Well, he grew somehow more stiff, anyway. Of course he wanted to see Ares. He just wasn’t sure if he’d be able to. But no. He was here now, and he was past fretting. He did want to see Ares. He needed to see him. He squeezed Luxa’s hand again, careful not to nearly break anything, and he nodded.

The doctor smiled and gave him such a kind look that Gregor couldn’t help but feel encouraged. With Luxa holding tight to him and the doctor leading the way, Gregor walked through the second curtain and into the same room as Ares.

“I want you to be prepared, Overlander,” the doctor said in a low voice, “for the possibility that he will not recognize you. Or, if he does, he may become unresponsive.”

Gregor heard what she was saying, but he barely processed it. His attention was locked on Ares as they grew closer and closer and closer. Aurora looked over, and then leaned in closer to Ares. She must have said something to him, because Ares turned around. His eyes locked on Luxa first, then flicked to Gregor.

Gregor felt Ares’s gaze like a punch to his gut. His chest ached inside and out. And the feeling inside, whatever it was, clouded anything that Gregor might have thought to say on the spot. Instead, he just stood there feeling like he was in a dream.

Everyone else vanished from the room. It was just the two of them.

Ares moved first, shifting in place and then slumping back against the wall. Gregor watched as his friend’s eyes glazed over, growing distant and unfocused. His jaw hung open, as if it were too bothersome to hold it closed. He looked so weak. So tired.

 Gregor’s eyes settled on the patch of fur that had grown over Ares’s throat. It was a soft white, loud and accusatory against the rest of his pitch black body. Gregor could only see red, and an esophagus hanging loosely outside of where it should have been. How was it even possible?

Gregor was back in that cavern again. More vividly than he’d been in years now. His chest burned with a fresh wound, and blood rushed forth hot and wet even as his body grew cold. The Bane lay there, with Gregor’s, Sandwich’s, sword protruding from his chest. Dead. His white fur was devoid of the pearlescent sheen of subtle color, instead stained brown and red with blood and grime. And there was Ares. Wings bent awkwardly, throat torn clean out, blood already drained from a massive wound that he could not possibly heal from.

So then how?

“I’m so sorry.”

Gregor had found his voice. It had escaped him soft and trembling. All of the pain of two and a half years welled up within him, and he realized he couldn’t keep the emotions in. He felt the tears roll down his cheeks as Ares’s head jerked slightly again to look at him.

“Ares,” Gregor said again, forcing his voice to be stronger, though it wasn’t by much, “I’m so sorry. Man, I-”

Gregor cut off, grunting past what he was sure would have been a sob. He wouldn’t break down. Cry, yes. But he wouldn’t lose control. Luxa had said Ares’s mental state was delicate. Gregor wouldn’t make it worse now that he was actually here. He closed his eyes to collect himself, taking a breath.

“You’re not dead.”

The words were so quiet, that Gregor thought he had imagined them. He opened his eyes to find Ares was watching him closely. Focused. Gregor became acutely aware of everyone in the room, then. Luxa had inhaled sharply and the nurse was anxiously pulling at the cloth of her shirt. Aurora shifted anxiously.

“Neither are you,” Gregor said.

Ares stirred, struggling to get up from his slumped position. The nurse moved to help and Luxa moved to stop her. But the doctor had already put a hand on her assistant’s shoulder. Ares succeeded in getting up, but he did not come closer.

“Ares,” Gregor said, “I-”

“Do not apologize again.” Ares shifted his weight, wincing. “Do not apologize. I will not hear it. I am undeserving.”

“Don’t say that,” Gregor said. He took a step closer, but Ares flinched. A stab of hurt shot through Gregor, freezing him to where he was.

“I mourned you,” Ares said, “I mourned you, and I mourned everyone else. I failed to protect you, and so I mourned you. But here you are. Each one of you. Alive.”

Something had shifted in Ares’s voice. Gregor couldn’t place it exactly, but it made him feel uneasy. Ares’s voice was peaking and falling erratically. He looked around at each of them in turn. Gregor, Luxa, and Aurora.

“I mourned. And I suffered for it. I deserved it. But why? For what purpose, when I find you all breathing?”

Aurora moved toward Ares in such a way that Gregor’s attention briefly pulled from Ares to her. She looked furious, and Gregor wondered if he was about to see Aurora attack Ares. But Ares only looked dazedy at her.

“Your bond is alive, Ares. Stop this nonsense,” Aurora said, “You failed nobody”

Ares’s eyes grew wild for a moment, and they bore into Gregor with a fervor that made Gregor wonder if this had been a good idea after all. But the wildness was gone after his eyes flicked to Luxa and back. He shook his head.

“The Bane is dead. The Warrior is dead. And the flier is dead, too. They three died in that cavern,” Ares said, his face twitching.

“We killed the Bane,” Gregor said, finding some ground, “he’s dead. But we’re here.”

“Are we?” Ares said. His clawless wing absently folded forward so that if his claw had been there it would have been placed against his throat. “Our blood left us cold.”

That part was true. He had struggled before, wondering if maybe he had been wrong about the wound Ares had been dealt. Maybe it hadn’t been fatal. But he was sure that wasn’t it. He’d known that Ares was dead. He’d know the Bane was dead. and Gregor had been dying, too. Sometimes when his fingers were cold, he remembered what it was like to have the warmth literally leak from your body. He'd lost so much blood, and Ares had lost even more.

“I was saved,” Gregor said, “by the shiners. You must have been, too.” It was a reach, he knew. The shiners wouldn’t have left Ares there to rescue just him, right? Now that he considered it, though, if the shiners had been after a reward would they have risked bringing the much larger Ares with them?

“The shiners? Photos Glow Glow. Zap.”

“That’s right,” Gregor said, “They brought me to Regalia. I was unconcious.”

“I do not recall…” Ares squinted as though a massive headache had just settled into his head. He brought his clawed wing to his head, pressing against it. Gregor felt a spike of worry as Ares collapsed again. He turned away and huddled into a ball. Now the doctor and nurse were by his side. Gregor looked at Luxa, but she looked paler than usual.

“I am fine,” Ares said and Gregor looked back at him. He rose, but did not turn around. The doctor and nurse backed away a few steps.

“Leave me,” Ares said. His ears twitched and he looked back over his shoulder at Aurora. The two bats watched each other a moment longer, and then Aurora bowed her head. Ares skulked off, heading for the other side of the room. The nurse hurried after him.

Ares did not look back.

Gregor watched as Ares slumped into a pile in the far corner of the room. His mind felt numb, and an intense exhaustion beyond anything he’d felt in recent memory settled over him like a shroud. Even nearly dying had been less of a stress on him than how he felt right now. Gregor wiped his eyes and turned away from Ares finally.

He was still holding Luxa’s hand. Suddenly hyper conscious of himself, he let go and wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. He was slapped across the face by a brief hurt in her eyes. He wished he hadn’t pulled away so quickly. Luxa, though, was Luxa. And she recovered within a beat of the pounding headache that was flaring up behind his eyes.

“That was difficult,” Luxa said. 

Gregor shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“It went about how I imagined it would,” Gregor lied. He hadn’t been sure of how that would go at all, good or bad. Luxa was watching him closely, and Gregor wondered what she was thinking.

“There is not much we could have wished for,” the doctor said, “but that he interacted with you at all was very good. I know it will be difficult for you, but I would suggest you make regular visits here as often as you can. It will do him, and you, some good.”

Gregor shrugged and nodded, smiling in a way that he hoped conveyed ease. He thanked the doctor, and she must have realized that he wanted to be alone because she took that as a dismissal and went to speak to to nurse across the room. Gregor turned to face Luxa again.

From the pitiful smile Luxa returned, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. The encounter had been miserable for them both, he realized, and he regretted pulling his hand away from hers even more now. She opened her mouth to speak, and Gregor perked up. But whatever she was about to say was lost as she hesitated. That put an awkward space between them, until Aurora spoke up and got his attention.

“He gave you much the same treatment as he gave us,” Aurora said, looking more upset than Gregor could remember ever seeing her, “at least you were spared the delusion of being believed a specter.”

“And he responded to your memory of the shiners,” Luxa said, “That was new.” Aurora nodded.

“Is it bad for me to say I’m just relieved that I got it out of the way? He’s okay. He’s right there.” Gregor looked back at Ares, who had gotten up again at the nurse and doctor’s urging. The nurse had some food and was helping Ares eat. Gregor smiled despite himself. “He’s alive. That’s enough, I guess.”

Even if he hates me. That part went unsaid, but Gregor had honed in on the tone in Ares’s voice. Disdain. Hurt. And why shouldn’t he be? Abandoned by his friends, his bond, lost in a strange place hundreds of miles from home. And Gregor had been playing Volleyball and going to pizza parties and laughing with his friends.

Gregor pushed it all from his head. This part was over. The hardest part was over. He would come again tonight. And tomorrow. And as often as he could to spare, he would be here in this room. He would have done so with or without the doctor’s reccomendation. But he also had a job to focus on.

“Queen Luxa!”

Gregor’s head snapped toward the voice, but Luxa didn’t react with shock to it. An aid, then? He had the look of a runner, much older than the one’s Gregor had grown used to seeing in the palace during the siege, but the same uniform at least. He noticed Gregor and stopped short, but recovered quickly and made his way toward them.

“What is it, Kalys?” Luxa asked.

“A message from Regalia. Something has occurred back home,” the runner, Kalys, said, “Ripred has sent word. It is about your cousin.”

Chapter Text

In response to the sudden influx of noise from their group, the doctor bustled over and shooed them from the recovery room. She gave them a look that seemed obvious to Gregor to mean that she thought they ought to know better, but it was lost of Luxa. They were removed from the observation room as well, and so Gregor found himself standing stupidly in the middle of the hallway while Luxa spoke to her runner a few yards away.

Disoriented, Gregor felt thankful for a moment alone. Weirdly, he felt better about the while occasion rather than worse. The encounter had left him reeling for sure, but at the same time none of it felt real. He felt as if he could wake up from a dream at any moment. A most vivid and long-winded dream he’d ever had. But his alarm never went off.

Regardless. He had seen Ares and his friend was very much alive. That was good enough for the time being.

“I fear sounding terribly sentimental,” Aurora said, moving to be near him, “However, it is very good to see you again. You have grown well in your absence from us.”

Gregor could have laughed at that, and he might have if anyone other than Aurora had said it. By any other creature’s standard, what she ha said was fairly simple. Coming from Aurora, though, simple things carried a little more weight.

“I hate to break it to you, but that was pretty much the definition of sentimental, “Gregor said, smiling, “but it’s great to see you, too, Aurora. You’re looking as bright and golden as ever.”

Aurora fluttered her wings in the way the bats did when they were pleased. “Spoken you with Vikus?”

“Only for a minute. Just long enough to introduce me to the guy in charge here.”

A grim look settled over Aurora’s face.

“We should save discussion of him for when we have privacy,” Aurora said, voice low. Gregor raised an eyebrow, but didn’t get a chance to follow up before Luxa rejoined them.

“Nerissa has had an episode. She was found outside of my rooms in a state, muttering to herself. She mentioned your name.” Luxa looked at Gregor. He felt the familiar scrutiny her eyes levied at him and tried not to grin. “Was she aware of your arrival?”

Gregor shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not unless Howard told her when he got back to Regalia. We left straight from the Fount.”

It had been plenty long enough for Howard to have gotten back to Regalia. Gregor didn’t think that Howard would have gone around telling everyone about Gregor right away, but it could have come up and the news eventually reach Nerissa. They were family, after all.

“What is it she saw?” Aurora asked, but Luxa only shook her head.

“Just a series of unrelated words. And Gregor’s name.”

The scrutiny turned to a piercing look and Gregor had to wonder what he’d done to deserve that shift in attention. He felt a shiver crawl down his spine, and he reminded himself that not every sharp glance from someone was a bad thing. And this one coming from Luxa, well, it was a little nostalgic beneath everything else. He shrugged, chancing a grin. A moment later, Luxa smiled as well.

“You must be exhausted,” she said.

“Sure am,” Gregor said, rolling his suddenly aching shoulders, “I waited too long between this road trip and the last one. I’m out of practice.”

Luxa laughed, and he posture relaxed. Gregor consciously made himself loosen up, too. He hadn’t even clocked how tense he’d been.

“You certainly smell of one who has been on a journey,” Luxa said, eyes flicked to Aurora.

“I would not have said it so bluntly,” Aurora said, shifting in place.

Gregor felt a surprisingly potent shock of embarrassment course through him. Face hot, he scratched the back of his neck and took a courtesy step back from them. “Maybe I’ll find a bath, then.”

As if waiting for his cue to enter, Vikus appeared from around the corner Gregor had come from to find the recovery room. When he noticed them standing there, he smiled and hurried over. He looked between Gregor a Luxa, leaning against his cane.

“I thought I might find you here,” Vikus said, and his features grew solemn as he looked past them as the curtain, “Have you been apprised of his health?”

Gregor nodded. “He talked to me. I’m told that’s a small miracle.”

Vikus patted him on the arm, smiling sympathetically.

“That it is. But I believe that you being here will be just what he needs to recover fully.”

Gregor smiled wryly. Leave it to Vikus to be so optimistic. Not that Gregor didn’t appreciate it at the moment, but the old man hadn’t been in the room with them. He didn’t hear how Ares had sounded. Well, Gregor doubted that he would be the magical cure Ares needed. Vikus continued.

“I have arranged for a place you can sleep tonight. But you must be hungry, as well.”

“Gregor was just about to find himself some cleanliness. Perhaps you can help him find it, Vikus?” Luxa said.

Vikus suddenly seemed horrified.

“Of course! My boy, of course, I am sorry. Everyone else has already gone off, I completely forgot…” Vikus busted over and lead Gregor long by the arm further down the hall from the direction they’d come, muttering more apologies. He stopped short, turning back to Luxa.

“Oh, I ought to let you know, Luxa. Your cousin has opted to join us here.”

Luxa, eyebrows raised, crossed her arms in front of her.

“I have many cousins, Vikus. And though I wish I were able to discern which one you are referring to based on your glee, you are far too happy to see any one of them for me to be able to do so reliably.”

Gregor snorted, earning him an appreciative smirk from Luxa.

Vikus, being Vikus, took the comment without stumbling.

“Stellovet, if you can believe it. As Anton described it, she rather forcefully joined Nike’s retinue later than the rest of the group. She claims to be here representing the Fount, and so she will likely be attending meetings as we have been.”

Luxa, to her credit, seemed unaffected by the news. He lack of a response was telling, though. Or was it? The Luxa Gregor remembered was outspoken and unafraid to tell others when she was displeased. Was that even still the case?

“Thank you for letting me know,” Luxa said. She waved and turned away, effectively dismissing them. At least some things remained the same, obvious as they were. Gregor shook his head as Vikus lead him around the corner and out of sight of the other two.

Alright. So Gregor had just started his job as a bodyguard and he was already leaving Luxa’s side. Great job, Gregor! Really showing up for the team there! He berated himself for only a couple of minutes, because he realized that the alternative was that he bathed his Luxa nearby. That thought put enough heat into his face that Vikus asked if he was feeling ill.

“Nope. Just a little overwhelmed is all,” Gregor said, stepping through a curtain the Vikus had brought him to.

“I will await you out here. Please, do take your time!”

Gregor did take his time. In fact, he probably took too much time, all things considered. But as as he slipped into the warm water, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift off to easier thoughts while his body floated in the soft current.

When he got out, he found a new set of clothes set aside from him on a bench. They were clothes he was familiar with, made in the Regalian style instead of what he’d seen the local humans wearing on his way through the city. It was a small thing, but it did provide some comfort. After he finished dressing, he found his hand closing over air where the hilt of his sword should have been. He felt a moment of panic, but that was quickly replaced by a concerning realization.

Without even realizing it, Gregor had re-acclimated to always having a sword at his hip. He hadn’t even thought about the weapon beyond taking it off at night and returning it in the morning. The instinct had returned far too easily for him to be comfortable with. Despite that, he knew he would need it back. Bodyguards didn’t move around unarmed. How own definitely hadn’t.

As Gregor stepped through the curtain and into the hall, mentally compromising that he didn’t need to arm himself so heavily as Horatio and Marcus had, he noticed Vikus sitting on a bench nearby. The sword Gregor was missing was laid across the man’s lap. Vikus smiled when he noticed Gregor, though Gregor thought it was more subdued than before.

Using his cane for leverage, Vikus got to his feet and handed the sword to Gregor without comment. Gregor strapped the sword into place and nodded at Vikus, content to allow the exchange to end without acknowledging it.

“Sorry. I know I was in there a while.”

“It is quite alright, dear boy. I, too, find the warm waters an excellent place for contemplation and relaxation alike. There is no harm in taking some time for oneself.”

“Yeah,” Gregor said, “it was nice.”

“Now! Come along, you must be at least somewhat curious to know how things work here. Petras is truly extraordinary, there is much to speak of and dinner is awaiting us.”

Gregor walked alongside Vikus, who was adept enough with the cane to keep an easy, steady pace, as the man launched into some of the basics about Petras. The man was particularly excited to share the differences in histories between Petras and Regalia. Gregor mostly just watched Vikus, though his mind mostly wondered how different the food might be. Vikus, though, was animated, gesturing with his cane between steps as he went on and on about how much there was to learn from the people here.

“I’m really glad you got better, Vikus,” Gregor said, interrupting Vikus in the middle of explaining how the Petras council was different from Regalia’s. He hadn’t planned on saying anything, but the last time Gregor had shared an extended interaction with Vikus had been right after the man’s stroke. Vikus had barely been able to move, let alone talk. Gregor hadn’t realized how much that memory had been affecting him.

Vikus beamed, not missing a beat.

“The river runs with or without us, Gregor. We struggle with the current some days, and on others were float peacefully along. All he must do is keep our heads above the water.”

Vikus spoke as if answering an unasked question. His eyes sparkled in that way Gregor remembered them doing, and Gregor felt a pang in his chest. As sappy as the old man was, Gregor had grown to rely pretty heavily on him in the past. And he was still here, too. Another life Gregor had left behind that was returned to him.

“Hope. Right?”

Vikus stopped, causing Gregor to pull up short. He looked back and saw Vikus looking at him with such a fondness that Gregor felt like he could have been blinded and paralyzed by the raw sincerity of it. Vikus nodded.

“Indeed. Hope.”

Gregor could stand to have a little hope. Hope for Ares. His family. His friends back in the Overland. For himself, or at the very least for what he was doing here. For now, though, Gregor only hoped that whatever there was to eat, there would be a lot of it.

*************************************

Angelina was finding it more difficult to pay attention in school with every day that passed without a response from Gregor. She fidgeted with her phone, checking for texts often enough that people had started noticing. Especially since, from their perspectives, she seemed to be dejected every time she put the phone away.

“Stop giving him all your time, Ange, he’s definitely not giving you his,” Bethany said to her one day during their final class period. It was a Friday and their teacher was cool enough to end class ten minutes early. Angelina looked up from her cheap little flip, given to her by her parents for her birthday two years ago. She glared at her friend with what she hoped was, and intended to be, a stage-perfected withering look.

“I told you, it isn’t like that.”

Larry at least understood why she was worried, even if he didn’t really share in that worry with her. Which was infuriating in and of itself, but Angelina’s other friends had taken note of her anxiety and decided that the cause was a boy she was trying to talk to, but who was ignoring her.

“If you say so,” Bethany said with a shrug, barely taking her attention away from her own blackberry, “You’re stressing too much over it, either way.”

Angelina forced herself to smile, wondering why people thought they could comment so confidently on things they didn’t understand. She chided herself immediately after the thought finished, because how could Bethany know? Angie hadn’t confided in her or anything. Her friend was only watching out for her.

“You’re right,” Angie said, flipping her phone shut and shoving it into her pocket, “Done. Not that you need to keep your eyes off your own phone or anything.”

Bethany only hummed a response and Angelina figured she hadn’t fooled the girl one bit. The truth of it was that Angelina felt like she was stressing over something exactly the correct amount. Maybe less, even, than she should have been. Because Gregor had disappeared again. Again!

The bell rang and Angelina forced too-tense legs to not bounce her from her seat immediately. Bethany peeked at her and shook her head. Angelina kept a thin smile and rose slowly, intending exude calmness personified. She was a leaf on the wind, easy and free. Despite the brutal storm raging in her chest, she waited for Bethany to stand and join her as well, and together they walked to the bus stop across the street from their high school.

She talked as if there wasn’t a rock, a boulder really, settled firmly in her stomach, chatting trivially about a homework assignment dished out by their teacher as they left for the weekend. She rode the bus for several stops, counting each in her head until they reached her stop. She said goodbye to Bethany and walked as calmly as she could manage down the aisle and onto the cold streets of New York City.

Her phone vibrated, and Angelina nearly dropped it in her haste to wrench it from her pocket as quickly as she could. Her heart hammered in her chest, a beating that might have even managed to break apart that boulder in his stomach, any semblance of calm blown away by the tempest within her. She idly imagined Bethany rolling her eyes, watching her as the bus pulled away, but she didn’t care. If it was Gregor…

It was impossible to not be severely disappointed to find a notification attached to Larry’s name instead.

Were we going to hit up the others for some practice games this weekend?”

Angelina huffed, warm breathe fogging the air in front of her, and shot back a short reply.

Meet me in Central Park

When Larry replied asking why, she ignored it. He would show up, and if he didn’t then Angie would find him and give him an earful. Share some of the raging winds within her chest with him. Larry wouldn’t want that, so he would show up.

Within the hour, Angie was sat on a bench beside a pond in Central Park near the Delacorte Theater. She finally found some genuine calm here, watching from a distance as folks set up for some small performance. She distracted herself by looking at a pamphlet she’d been handed and playing with the idea of attending the show. When Larry arrived, she let those musings crumble away like a saltine cracker crushed over soup.

“What’s the big deal?” Larry asked. Angie stood up and began pacing and Larry stole her place on the bench, holding his jacket closer to him.

“Lawrence, I swear to-”

“Don’t call me that, Ange, come on,” Larry groaned.

“Sorry,” Angelina said. Larry disliked his full name for good reasons. “But it’s been two weeks! No word from Gregor at all. Aren’t you worried? Even a little bit?”

“Worried? Sure. Freaking out to the point of paranoia? No,” Larry said with a shrug, “He’s gotten sick before, Ange. It happens. My asthma attacked used to take me down for days sometimes, they would be so bad. And whatever Gregor’s got, it has to be pretty bad.”

Angelina had considered that, but her imagination hadn’t been kind to her anxiety-ridden brain. She and Larry had used to talk about what exactly Gregor had been ill with the last time he’d been gone for an extended time. When he returned to school some two years ago, he’d been pale and thin and distant. They had concluded that it had to have been something with his heart, given that he was always rubbing at his chest.

“We should have asked him about it,” Angie said, chewing on her nails.

“It was your decision not to press him about it! You threatened to snap me into pieces if I tried to pry, remember?” Larry said. He reached angrily into his jacket pocket and pulled out a granola bar. For a moment, the only sound was the wind and the crinkle of wrapping paper as Larry tore the bar open and took a bite.

“Well, I changed my mind. Just now. We should have asked him.”

“Good to know. We can ask him about it when he gets back!”

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

Larry frowned, chewing more slowly as he considered that. His eyes tracked a line of ants on the sidewalk. He looked back at Angie and she latched on to the serious look he gave her.

“If it is an illness, what if it gets bad enough that he just doesn’t come back this time? I don’t like that. Do you?”

“Well, no, but it isn’t exactly something we have control over, y’know?” Larry said, leaning forward, “Is that what’s bothering you? Him not coming back?”

Angelina took a deep breath of cold air. It was that, partly. But there was more. A feeling she had felt two years ago that she had forgotten until recently.

“The last time he disappeared, what were we told? That Gregor was very sick. It didn’t bother me too much at the time, but something happened to him. You remember what he was like when he first got back.”

Larry nodded, looking solemn. That had been another topic they had discussed; How twitchy and anxious he’d been; How withdrawn; How he would nearly jump out of his skin when someone bumped into him or called after him in the halls.

“I remember how hard you tried to keep being his friend,” Larry said. Angelina felt her shoulder slump.

“Larry, don’t. Just because you didn’t-”

“No, no, I’m over it. Don’t sugarcoat it, I was a bad friend. We were in middle school and I was an idiot about everything. You were there for him, and we both should have been. I’m over it.”

Angelina hugged herself against a gust of frozen wind that started blowing through, rustling the trees and bushes and creating a chorus of shouts and curses, jubilant, from the people setting up at the theater. Offhandedly, Angelina thought the conversation she was having would have made for something very dramatic if written for the stage.

“What were you thinking about doing?”

Angelina shivered and shrugged. Now that she was here, airing out her worries and talking through her anxiety, all of the silly little plans she’d thought up felt insignificant and childish. They were too under-thought to be considered anything even half decent.

“I don’t know,” she said, feeling as if she would overflow anyway if she didn’t keep talking, “ask round at some hospitals? Talk to the principal? Hire a PI?”

“A PI?! For real?”

“I said I don’t know!”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry,” Larry said, putting his hands up in surrender, grinning. Angie couldn’t help but smile as well. The tension that had built up inside of her began to melt away despite the cold. The storm in her chest calmed to a gusty shower. The stagnant sensation of having done nothing for two weeks except build a glass house of worry was replaced by an anxious giddiness now that she had expressed even her half-baked ideas. She fidgeted in place, considering the hospital idea again, wondering how they would convince staff to let them see their friend if he was checked in with them. Larry stood up.

“Why don’t we start by paying him a visit at his new place. At least to talk to his folks, if he isn’t there. We still have some time before it gets dark.”

Angelina was nodding here head before Larry had finished speaking. How stupid! Of course step one should be to go see if he was just at home. Part of her even relaxed at the thought of finding him there, bedridden with the flu or something, but otherwise okay. There was a plan now. She could focus on that.

On the bus again, heading in the direction that would lead them to the neighborhood where Gregor lived now, Angie turned to Larry.

“Thank you,” she said. Larry shrugged.

“We’ll get some answers and then we’ll stop and grab some pizza or something before going home.”

Angelina nodded, smiling. “Sounds good.”

Chapter Text

Larry felt an uncomfortably familiar tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with his asthma as he looked into the exhausted face of Gregor's father. The man was smiling, but Larry had seen his own dad smile just like that about a thousand times in the past. He'd been a part of plenty of conversations where an adult was putting on a brave face for him. That, more than any of Angelina's fretting, worried him.

“Out of state?” Angie asked. She was sitting in the chair next to Larry's at Gregor's family's kitchen table. His dad had made them some warm tea, and sat across from them holding a mug of his own while he explained what had happened to Gregor. God, he looked tired.

“That's right. His condition worsened, but the doctors are optimistic. They've been sending us good reports about his progress.”

The man had confirmed their suspicion that Gregor was dealing with something related to his heart. To hear it confirmed was equal parts great and awful. But it explained a lot, like why he was always rubbing at his chest and why he was always wearing warm clothes in the summer. Chest pains bothered him and poor circulation made it hard for him to stay warm. Larry took a long sip of his tea, remembering his own days in hospitals and felt a little closer to Gregor for it.

Something did bother Larry, though. Something that itched in the back of his head as Angelina continued talking.

“He never texted us,” she said, sounding hurt.

“He was pretty torn up over having to leave,” Gregor's dad said, “I can ask him about it, but I'll bet he just doesn't want to worry you. He's always bounced back before. He's probably hoping this time will be the same.”

Larry listened to the man speak, and he heard every word, but none of them sounded solid to him. There was something he was leaving out, Larry was positive about that. But it wasn't raising any flags, because Larry could imagine exactly what those things were. The tone of voice Gregor's dad was using was as equally familiar to Larry as his exhaustion. Larry had heard doctors use the same voice when explaining the complications of his asthma to him. And his parents had used it, too, whenever he'd had a bad attack and needed to go to the ER. It was complicated stuff.

While Angelina continued to ask questions, Larry let his mind wander, mostly out of a sense of not wanting to be part of a conversation like this one. The family did a really stand up job of keeping their place tidy. The kitchen was immaculate; Clean, spotless even, and everything was in its place. Dishes were drying in the dish rack, hand towels were folded neatly on top of the microwave. The toasted sat at the ready next to the breadbox. And the spell scroll was tucked neatly into-

Larry blinked, his eyes becoming stuck on the foreign object in an otherwise perfectly normal kitchen. His first thought was the it did, in fact, look like a scroll that a wizard or a sorcerer would write their magic spells on and then roll up to preserve for later. Like from a game or a movie, except here in a kitchen in New York City. Odd.

“Larry?”

“Hmm?” Larry was yanked from his confusion by Angie poking him on the shoulder.

“We were just invited to stay for dinner.”

“Oh. Uh, I think we should-” Larry started and received a pinched arm beneath the table for it. He changed track halfway through, rubbing his arm. “Definitely take you up on that, thanks. I'll call my folks and let them know I'll be home late.”

Gregor's dad gave them a look, but he didn't press them because the front door opened and a rush of energy plunged into the house with the power of a bullet train.

“Angie!”

Boots rushed across the threshold of the front door and into the kitchen where she leaped at Angelina for a hug. Angie laughed, catching her and managing to keep them from toppling over in the chair. Larry grinned, happy to see Angie genuinely laughing, and waved at Lizzie as the older sister stepped into the kitchen as well.

“Hey lizard,” he said, earning an outright nasty glare from the girl.

“Hello, Angelina,” she said brightly, then turned her nasty gaze back on him, “loser larry.”

“See, I don't think you quite get the idea of fun nicknames,” Larry said. “They're supposed to be fun, right? It's in the description.”

“Lizard is fun?”

“Better than loser. You think Loser is fun?”

“It is for me,” Lizzie said in a very Gregor-like way. Larry chuckled.

“Were you guys here to ask about Gregor?” Lizzie asked him, as Angie was busy nodding enthusiastically to a chattering Boots as she told her all about her day.

“Yeah, we hadn't heard from him and Angie was real worried. So we-”

“Ripred knows where Gregor is.”

Larry turned to look at Boots, who had switched off of talking about her day at Kindergarten and was looking at him now. Angelina gave Larry a confused look, which Larry was positive mirrored his own.

“What was that, Boots?”

“When he visited, Rirpred told us where he is,” she looked to her dad for confirmation. Larry did, too, but the man maintained the same, tired smile he'd kept plastered to his face since their arrival. He shrugged.

“Boots, why don't you go get settled after school? So we can start dinner time.”

“Alright!” Boots turned and said in a sing-song voice, “Settle after school! Yes!”

She rushed down the hallway and vanished into the room she shared with Lizzie, little backpack bouncing the whole way. Lizzie was right on her tail, and the two girls were gone again.

“Ripred?” Larry asked.

“Boots doesn't like her big brother being gone. She's got her imaginary friends to help her cope.”

Larry nodded, and that did make sense to him. He'd had a few imaginary friends when he was little. He couldn't remember their names anymore, or really anything about them other than that one of them had been a big mouse who wore a jacket, but he knew they had helped him through tough times.

Still, his imaginary friends had never visited him. They were always either there or they weren't. Maybe Boots had more capacity for details than little Larry. He decided that he was looking for problems. The vibe in the room was wretched, after all, despite the energetic interruption of the sisters. He'd just learned his friend was out of state and dealing with a serious heart condition. Obviously, his head wasn't on straight. And his mind was still stuck on that weird scroll...

Larry stood up to fill his mug with water, and he got a chance to get a closer look at the scroll tucked away in a small cubby above the sink. He could just make out some lettering on the inside curve of the paper.

He noticed Gregor's name scrawled there.

Larry froze, trying to make out anything else from the note. But what he was able to read was disjointed; half sentences and words that didn't quite make sense. What did he do? Did he bring it up? Was it even any of his business? Maybe it was just a doctor's report, like what Gregor's dad had mentioned before. But what sort of doctor hand wrote an official document on what looked like the kind of paper survivalists hand made using tree bark and reeds.

A chair scratched across the floor, causing Larry to jump. He turned and watched as Gregor's dad walked down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. Larry, seeing his opportunity, snatched the scroll from the cubby and shoved it into his pocket before he could think better of his actions.

When he sat back down, Angie turned to him, contemplative.

“Something still doesn't feel right,” she said.

Larry shrugged, even as he felt the light pressure of the scroll pressing against his thigh.

“Sure, but it makes sense to me.”

“You would say that.”

“Yeah, I would,” Larry said, feeling a surge of annoyance, “as the only person sitting at this table right now who has spent weeks at a time in hospitals, I feel like I've got a pretty good handle on things. They're acting like parents with a sick son.”

Angie, looking chagrined, nodded.”

“You're right, sorry. I just... I really can't believe that he wouldn't at least text us. Just to let us know that he was doing okay. Or to tell us where he was.”

“Like his dad said, he probably didn't want to worry us,” Larry said, “he never did before, either, Ange.”

“Yeah, but last time we weren't as close! It just makes me wonder, that's all.”

“He's a private guy. Doesn't make him any less a friend, right? From the sound of it, he's doing better. We should be glad for that, shouldn't we be?”

Angelina considered that for a moment and smiled. That smile made Larry's stomach twist. Partially because it always did whenever she looked him in the eyes, and partially because he felt bad convincing her things were just fine when he himself wasn't entirely convinced.

The front door opened again and they received surprised hellos and half hugs from Grace as she entered the kitchen with groceries. She had the same tired-but-trying demeanor that he husband did. Only the dark circles under her eyes were a whole lot more obvious.

The rest of the family reappeared and Larry was swept up in helping with dinner prep. The controlled chaos of the kitchen, and then dinner, kept him occupied for the following couple of hours. He didn't get a chance to bring anything else up with Angie.

Boots said nothing else about her imaginary friend, but she did start clicking in a rhythmic sort of way and then claimed, very proudly, to Angie that she was speaking the language of Cockroaches. Grace chided her for talking about bugs at the table, but the little girl only nodded sagely and said knowingly to the rest of them, “Big bugs.”

By the time they had bundled back up in jackets and said their goodbyes, Larry had forgotten about the scroll in his pocket. He only remembered about it when Angie asked him what was wrong.

“Hmm? Nothing, I- Oh!”

Angie watched him curiously as he retrieved the scroll from his pocket. He watched confusion overwrite curiosity as he showed it to her. The scroll was squashed, and it had a water stain Larry didn't remember it having before, but it was obviously still something out of the ordinary.

“I found it in the kitchen. I noticed Gregor's name on it so I grabbed it.”

“Larry!” Angie looked horrified as he unfurled the scroll. “You stole from the people who just fed us!”

“Hey, we went for answers and we got some, but if this can tell us anymore, I figured it might help reassure you some more.”

“But what if its something important?”

“Then I'll take it back and tell them I pocketed it to get it out of the way while we were helping with dinner and forgot to put it back,” Larry said, “besides, its better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”

“That's something that inconsiderate people say,”Angie said, looking like she wanted to pout. He wondered if she was going to let herself freak out on him, but her eyes darted to the scroll. Larry shrugged and stepped over to a flickering streetlamp for some light. Angie followed, leaning closer to read it with him.

Overlanders,

I am writing to you at the behest of Gregor, who wishes for me to explain the situation to you. He wishes for you to know that he is safe, first and foremost, but that he is going to remain in the Underland for a time. New writings from the prophet Bartholomew of Sandwich were discovered recently, fragmented but undeniably about The Warrior, and implies that he must be involved in securing a lasting peace. Gergor is convinced he must see this newest prophecy through. This task, as we have interpreted it to mean, will put him at the side of Queen Luxa as she works to secure our future. He is sorry that he is unable to write to you himself, but time is short. He hopes you are okay, and that you will forgive him for his decision.

I wish to address you directly, and to apologize. When these writings were discovered, we believed that Gregor would not willing return to aid us. As such, we rashly invaded you home and caused your family significant distress. Your son is wise, however, and once we explained everything to him he agreed to accompany us willingly. It does not justify the wrong we committed, and it brings me shame to think I was party to it. I apologize deeply for our transgression against you.

Ripred wishes for me to include that he is watching over Gregor and that, transcribed directly from him, 'Your daughter knows by now, and so should you, that I always have one eye on the boy, even when I don't.' He also says to say hello to Lizzie for him and that he wishes her nothing but the best.

Thank you, and fly you high

Gregor's scribe, Lissa

Larry read the note all the way through, and then he reread it all the way through again. After he finished reading it for a third time, his brain began to catch up to his eyes and process exactly what they were being shown. Confusion was the name of the country settling in his mind. And, honestly, Larry thought the whole thing could have been a pretty good joke. Not exactly funny, but Larry could imagine some context that would make it so. Because it had to be funny, somehow. The alternative was that it made no sense whatsoever, so his brain started rationalizing.

The handwriting was definitely not Gregor's. It was too clean, too practiced. And it was written in ink, which wouldn't be noteworthy except that there were no mistake; Nothing crossed out or written over like how Gregor tended to do with his homework. Larry had copied enough of it to know. And it struck him how dumb it was that he was fixating on that, given the content of the note itself, especially since it talked about Gregor as a third party. The first half seemed to be from him, to his family.

“I'm confused,” Angie said.

“Yeah. Same.”

Larry looked around, though he didn't know why. Maybe he was hoping that Gregor's dad would leap out of the bushes and yell at them that this was a prank, or maybe that it was a test and that they had failed when he stole the silly little scroll from the kitchen. That would have made infinitely more sense to Larry. As it was, his brain struggled to make connections where it didn't see any.

“Maybe its some weird ransom note,” he mused, not really considering the idea. Angie looked up from the note, terrified, and Larry wanted to backtrack. His mouth took his brain's confusion as permission to do whatever it wanted, however. “Like, maybe its in code. It mentions a break in.”

Angie put a hand on her head, contemplating that. Larry felt a prickle of panic run up his spine.

“Don't look so convinced!” His brain caught up with his mouth. He wished he had kept it shut.

“No, it isn't that,” Angie said, taking the scroll from him and scanning it again, “that's unlikely. It doesn't explain a single thing. They aren't asking for money or anything else, and they're apologizing.”

“I guess that's true,” Larry said, glad that one of them was thinking things through.

“Maybe it's part of a game they play?” Angie said, sounding hopeful, “like a tabletop game?”

“But it feels so formal, you know? Like, proper.”

“Might be part of it.”

“Who do you think wrote it? Not Gregor.”

Larry shook his head. “No, I was thinking that, too. But I don't think his parents did it either.”

“It sounds like its addressed to them, anyway. Or the family as a whole,” Angie said. Larry wondered about the context of Overlanders, but kept his mouth shut this time. Think first, then offer something. This was confusing enough as it was. “Lizzie?”

“Lizzie doesn't really play imagination games,” Larry said, then added, “but she might play along with Boots.”

“Boots is five, she can barely read yet,” Angie pointed out, then pointed at the page, “but her imaginary friend is mentioned, see.”

“Oh yeah,” Larry said, looking at the name. He'd read right past that without noticing. Angie ran her finger along the line.

“He says to say hi to Lizzie for him. And that he always keeps an eye on Gregor,” she said, and looked back at Larry, “Not say hi to Boots. Say hi to Lizzie. That's weird for an imaginary friend to want to talk to your sister and not you.”

It was a small thing, but definitely strange. That in itself didn't help anything, but it did get Larry thinking about something that he'd noticed over dinner that now seemed worth second considerations. Lizzie had not been very subdued throughout the night. In fact, she had been positively energetic compared to her parents. It was subtle, of course, Lizzie being Lizzie, but she wasn't nearly as bothered by her brother being gone as her parents were. In fact, she hadn't seemed bothered at all. That was strange.

“Lizzie didn't seem too upset, did she?”

Angie raised an eyebrow at him, and he became very aware of her attention. She aimed scrutiny at him like a spotlight. Often, that made him nervous. Right now, though, her gaze helped sharpen his focus. He felt a shiver run through him that had little to do with the cold.

“Gregor's parents were exhausted. That makese sense; Their son is sick and out of state and they're worried. Boots wasn't obviously upset, but she's pretty young. Hard to pin what she's feeling down. But Lizzie wasn't even worried. She seemed totally fine.”

Lizzie had talked about Gregor at dinner as if he were going to walk through the door and join them at any moment. Confident and unbothered. Her smiles had not been a mask in the same way her parents' smiles had been. Her mood had not been forced. Larry explained himself further, and Angelina adopted a significant look.

“So the part where it says this Ripred person is watching over Gregor and that Lizzie knows by now that its obvious he would be, it could explain her mood. Since it implies they know each other well enough for that to be an assumption.”

“So we're assuming that part is true?” Angie said.

Larry out a hand up. “I'm just saying that the two things line up. If she trusts that this guy is keeping an eye on Gregor, then her not being upset make sense.”

“Okay. But if that part is true, then the rest probably is, too. But how could it be?” Angie was starting to sound tired and a tad desperate. She wanted this to make sense, and Larry felt like he was fast approaching a breaking point himself. “I mean, this thing mentioned prophecies and a queen. Seriously, look- 'Gregor's scribe, Lissa'. I don't know a Lissa, do you?”

“She could be an aunt or a niece,” Larry offered, still wanting the idea about this being some sort of silly letter game to be true, “Or a character they made up.”

Larry said the words and then latched on to them, grinding his teeth, because there was a way this made sense. He was just stupid.

“Someone helped Gregor write this. It's gotta be a game. Or just something fun Gregor cooked up to make his sisters worry less. Right? He made up a bunch of stuff about why he's gone. He had some fun with it..” Larry threw his arms out. “Right?”

“I want to agree with that, but it still doesn't explain why Lizzie is completely fine. If everyone was in on the game, she would still know it was fake.”

“This note,” Larry said, grumbling as he pointed at it, “claims that people invaded their home and kidnapped Gregor and then he just decided to go with them willingly? And the writer was one of the ones who did it and, oh look at that, they're sorry?”

Larry reached his peak of frustration. He coughed, a too-familiar tightening in his chest grounding him to the cold sidewalk. He forced himself to take a steadying breath, and then another. Long and slow. He would not have his first asthma attack in a year over some stupid piece of paper.

But... What an asshole! None of this would be an issue if Gregor had just sent one text. One. Single. Text. A quick 'Hey guys, I'm good. Won't be around for a bit, but don't worry, I'm all good!' and Larry would be at home right now, warm and cozy instead of standing in the middle of a neighborhood, shivering in the cold, beneath a flickering street lamp, and on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hey, whoa.” Angie gripped his arm, squeezing and grounding him, “do we need to sit down?”

Larry shook his head. “No, we need Gregor to think about us for once when he knows that you're liable to lose hair from worrying about us under normal circumstances, let alone something like this.”

And why did Angie even worry so much. It was pretty obvious to Larry that despite the last year, nothing that either of them had done had affected Gregor enough to make him think to extend them some courtesy. His face must have given away his continued frustration, because Angelina shook him gently. Larry spoke before she could manage any platitudes.

“Why are we even bothering with this? Seriously. You've wasted so much time on him over this, worrying all the while. And he can't even be bothered the let us know he's alive. All take, no give.”

Larry felt his muscles tighten up, and he coughed again. The cold air felt like it was attacking his throat and he considered using his inhaler just to give him some relief from the itch it was causing. But then Angie was helping him down to the curb, where he sat and caught his breath, Angie giving him some space. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down. Angie sighed after a couple of minutes.

“If we believe the note, then he was taken. So he might not even have his phone with him.”

“But do we really believe it? Do we actually think that Gregor went somewhere with his kidnappers to can link up with a queen and fulfill a prophecy?”

Angie shook her head.

“Maybe not all of that,” she admitted, “but some of it. And if he's out of state, and being cared for, then that's honestly enough for me. When he gets back, we can ask him all about whatever this is. But for now, it's something.”

“It's a stretch, is what it is,” Larry grumbled. Her words said one thing, but her tone said another. She was still gnawed up with worry about Gregor. Worried enough that she was actually latching on to this fanciful letter like it was a lifeline. Once again, she was saying things so that Larry wouldn't get worked up. Hoe stupid.

Of course, Larry was just as guilty. Despite his frustration, he was worried about his friend. He had connected the dots. But the fact was that they didn't actually know anything. They weren't family, so they were not in the loop. He shook his head.

“We should visit tomorrow,” he said, “and just ask. Maybe not his parents. But Lizzie.”

“Maybe,” Angie said. He wondered if she was humoring him or agreeing with him. He decided that he didn't care, because he was suddenly very tired. The close call with his asthma had drained him.

Angie helped him up and kept the note, saying she wanted to read it again. Larry was more than happy to let her have it, because if he kept it there was a good chance he'd tear it to shreds. He walked her to her apartment building, and then watched as she got into the elevator and disappeared as the doors closed with a wave goodnight. Once he was home and laying in bed, after providing a lame excuse to his parents for why he'd taken longer than he'd said he would, sleep turned out to be elusive. He scrolled through old text messages, reading old conversations and letting the memories they dredged up turn his dour mood into something closer to contentedness. Mostly they were between him, Angie, and Gregor. Sometimes their other friends, but mostly the three of them. Something clicked in his brain as he scanned lines of messages sent to him by Gregor.

Angelina was right.

Larry had let his frustration get a strangle on him, blinding him to the obvious thing he'd been willfully ignoring the whole time. Because the proof of it was right here in his hand, sitting in his pocket for the past two weeks. The messages stretched back a year, starting in earnest right around when Gregor had shaken whatever depression had been weighing him down.

Gregor had not kept them out of the loop the whole time. It didn't matter what context; Volleyball games, hangout confirmations, test reminders, assurances that canceled plans happened and that they could reschedule, chats celebrating Angie's plays. There was barely a day where they hadn't had some sort of exchange, even when Gregor had been knocked down hard by a flue that had lasted a couple of weeks.

Two weeks sick and he had still had time to text Larry. And Larry would bet that Angie had the same proof in her own phone. Probably they had texted more often, even. Larry felt his stomach twist, guilt and shame and annoyance and frustration all boiling up in his gut.

With a grunt, he typed out a text for Angie and sent it.

We should look into it some more

He didn't have to wait long for her response.

I have some ideas. I'll text you tomorrow.

That brief exchange didn't fix his mental state, but it did allow him to finally close his eyes and let the warmth of his bed capture him. His mind quieted, and Larry drifted off to sleep comforted that Angie at least had something working in her mind. Because Larry just felt stupid, and as he embraced sleep, he distantly felt like that was becoming too much of a pattern recently.