Chapter 1.

Slippy Toad wandered through the desolate white brick halls of the Cornerian Defense Academy, his hemispheric eyes glancing down every hall. Time and again, the only response he received was his own discouraging echo. The gaping square windows, pelted with elliptical raindrops, led to a view of black skies and a few dull orange street lamps.

He stopped halfway down a dim corridor and pushed open a towering metal door. A stray basketball and a forgotten uniform lay in the faint beam of light poking through the opened door.

"Falco?" Slippy called into the darkness. "Falco?"

The voice bounced off the walls and decayed into a mess of echoes.

"Falco, where are you?" Slippy mumbled as the door squeaked shut.

Krystal McCloud propped a foot against the wall and sighed. She felt her face falling as Fox told her what had happened in Oberon and what became of Falco. The terrorists killed 40,000 people in one blow—and Falco was there for it all. Now there was no question: Falco had to be found.

"We've checked the base, the campus, the common areas—we've gone everywhere except the garages and the lockers. … Well, right now it's just Slippy and I. Peppy's helping, but he's thinking the same things you are: Let him go. But I just can't bear to leave him behind, Fox. Slippy's right. What if he's hurting and he needs us?"

As Fox McCloud replied on the other end of the cellphone line, she ran her free paw through her Prussian-blue hair.

"I don't feel peace about it, Fox. Yes, it shouldn't have happened, and maybe he has to work this out himself, but I want to know he's fine. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I know it's bad. That's all I know—it's bad. I keep asking, 'Isn't God doing anything about this?'—I mean, I know He is, but it doesn't feel like it."

After hearing Fox reply, Krystal gave a discouraged goodbye and slid her cellphone back into her coat pocket.

Keep praying and get on with your life, she thought, quoting Fox's words. Why do we, even though it seems that it's doing nothing?

"Krystal?"

A heavy voice prompted Krystal to turn around. "Mr. Hare. Slippy. Did you both find anything?"

Peppy shook his head, his floppy ears wagging with each movement. Under his breath he muttered, "It was too early. I made a mistake."

Slippy shrugged. "Well, where do we look next?"

"It's been nine days since the attack. He's not camping out in the places we thought he'd be. So let's think of the last places we'd ever suspect he would go."

Krystal sighed. "Slippy, you're a good friend, but we're not going to find him."

"Not unless he wants to be found," Peppy said.

"The attack was a nightmare," Slippy said, "even though we weren't at ground zero for it. I think that something bigger's affecting Falco."

Krystal leaned against the wall and rested her shallow chin on a hand. "Come to think of it, there was something unusual. A few weeks ago, back on Great Fox, Falco came in looking exhausted. I'd never seen him look so sick. I only asked him once if he finished setting up something with the computers. I asked one time too many, because he shouted, 'Then why don't you help me get this freaking thing to work?'"

"I remember that," said Slippy with a chuckle. "But what can we do? I'm not waiting until Monday to find out what's going on."

"You'll have to wait a lot longer than that." Peppy stared at them, eyes unflinching, until he saw their worried faces and turned away. He knew he had just said too much.

"What do you mean, sir?" Krystal said. "You know what's happened to him?"

"I don't think I'm at liberty to say. But frankly, I'm surprised you hadn't picked up on it by now."

"Why not?"

"Because while you were coming here, I was dealing with a brawl at the common room. And I…" Peppy hesitated, giving Slippy and Krystal a more direct look.

"I had to discharge him…dishonorably."