Have you ever tried huddling for warmth around an Andalite? It's not easy. For one thing, they don't add much warmth to the equation in below-freezing temperatures. And for another thing, their tails. That blade is not exactly cuddly.

Rachel had Tobias tucked up under her chin. Even I knew better than to make any smart remarks. Tobias was trembling. So was Ax.

I mean, all of us were way past what you might call shivery. But those two were literally freezing to death, fast, and all we could do was slow it down long enough to let them spend just a little more time not being fleas.

Have you ever been a flea? Have you ever thought you might get stuck as a flea? Ever had to contemplate spending the rest of your life as a miserable, helpless, blood-sucking –

Anyway. It's not a fun time.

So I didn't say anything.

The four of us were curled up around Ax, to the best of our ability. He was lying down on his side, not a natural position for an Andalite, the better to lean into Jake and Cassie. Rachel and I had more or less plastered ourselves against his other side.

I felt freezing hands in my neck fur.

{Marco,} Ax said, and man, do I not like it when Ax sounds scared. Things are always bad when Ax sounds scared. You know one of the only times I've ever heard him say he was scared? It involved dinosaurs.

{Yeah, Ax,} I said back, in private thought-speak. I didn't know for sure that he'd spoken only to me. I just had a feeling.

Ax shuddered violently. Not that he'd been doing much else for the past few minutes. {I do not want to die like this.}

{You'd prefer a blaze of glory?} I said dryly, to cover for the shock and the panic trying to break over me like a wave of... a wave of... like a really cold wave, okay?

I did mention the cold, right? The bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold?

And did I also mention I hate Ax being scared? I mean I really hate it. Ax and Rachel are basically our danger thermometers. (Temperature on the mind? Who, me?) If either of them starts freaking out, we're probably doomed. So, not that I'd thought we were doing great or anything like that, but Ax talking about death was a less than terrific sign.

{A blaze of glory, yes,} he mumbled. {A blaze. That at least sounds warm.}

And see, all remarks about Andalites and humor aside, I knew he was making a joke. Because the straight answer to that question – or at least the usual answer, the playing-along-with-the-banter-to-keep-the-team-happy answer – would have been something like yes, of course, Marco, a death any Andalite warrior would be honored to claim. Qapla'!

I also knew his body was starting to shut down. He sounded woozy.

And, okay, maybe I was also a little out of it.

He squeezed his hands in my fur. I wished briefly that I had hands to squeeze back with, and was rewarded for this thought by a vivid flashback to how badly my gorilla knuckles had faired on the ice.

{Jake'll get us out of this,} I said, flexing my paws uneasily. I felt bad for a second, pinning our fate on Jake. But harsh as it sounds, sometimes that's what he's there for.

{I hope so.} Ax's voice was getting faint. I knew he'd need to morph soon. Probably Tobias, too.

I wondered if Tobias and Rachel were talking to each other.

{He will,} I said, with a lot more confidence than I actually felt. Hey, the poor guy was about to go back into flea morph, okay? I had to give him something. Even if that something was false hope.

Now listen: false hope isn't useless. False hope has played its part in getting us all through plenty of situations that were totally free of authentic hope. But it's never enough on its own.

So I added something we could both definitely believe in:

{And if not, I'm sure Rachel will find a way for us to go down fighting.}