He was lying under a tree, staring through its leaves. I stood a few feet away, feeling helpless.

‹Prince Jake?› I ventured cautiously.

"Go away, Ax," he said quietly, mechanically.

‹Prince Jake, Captain Asculan-Semiture-Langor would like to speak to you. You and the others must -›

"Ax." He turned his head to face me. His face was wet with tears. "Go away. Now. Please."

I shuddered to hear at him so hurt and vulnerable. ‹Yes, my Prince.›

In the eyes of the Captain, the humans had somehow become my responsibility. Now I could see why. But without Jake, I could do nothing more than the Captain; on the Dome ship, I was more alien to the others than ever before. Tobias might return to Earth if I asked it of him, but he wasn't what anyone meant when they said "the humans". They – the Captain and his immediate staff – wanted specific humans off their ship: Jake, Cassie, Marco. They needed someone on Earth to handle everything. And if I wasn't careful, if Jake wouldn't retake his role as leader, that "someone" would be me.

I slowly plodded across a stretch of grass. It was good to be back in a Dome, eating the carefully cultivated grasses of my own world, but it made me long all the more to really be home. I felt morose. Seeing Marco approaching did not help; he seemed at times almost perversely cheerful.

"Hey, Ax-man, what's up?"

I shrugged. It was a human gesture, incredibly out of place here, but why should I care? I was likely to be sent right back to Earth, this time as a novelty for the human media to exclaim over. I'd be given some inane title and installed in a government office and I would never see my home again.

"Things are that good, huh?" Marco asked, seeing my expression. Overly cheerful or not, of all of the humans besides Tobias, I generally liked Marco the most. He was perspective, and put his observations to good use.

‹They want you off the ship,› I said. Then, to soften that: ‹The people of Earth need answers. They do not want to talk to more aliens. They are scared and confused. But Prince Jake...›

"Jake's out of it," Marco finished, nodding as he fell in beside me in my slow walk across the field. "He's sitting there killing himself. Rachel's gone. Tom's gone. We saved the world, but Jake, he lost."

I nodded. ‹Yes, and without him...›

"I know. Oh, man, I know. But we've got to do it. You're right – people down there must be freaking out. We have to land, put on a good show for them. God. What do you think, D.C.? I guess it'll have to be. We have to...god, we have to bury her. Oh, god..."

I touched Marco's shoulder. We continued to plod along, silent. I did not know what to say. So many people were right about so many different things. So many things needed to happen. So many people needed help. The war was over and won; we should now be able to go back to our lives, but that was impossible.

‹My people will help as much as possible,› I offered finally. ‹We, too, have little experience with this. You'll be provided with a craft –›

Marco looked up at me, suddenly fierce. "What, you're not coming?"

‹Marco, I'm going home.› I said, too weary of all of this to maintain appearances, even for an old friend. ‹You should, too.›

Because my words had hurt him, and because Rachel was not here to do it for him, and because that hurt, too, my friend Marco lashed back at me.

"Home," he sneered, shoving my hand away from his shoulder. "Yeah, good luck with that."

He walked away from me, headed toward the edge of the Dome. I did not watch him go. I did not know what to do. I wanted so very badly to go home, but, with the remaining Animorphs still aboard the Elfangor, there was no hope of that. I would not be allowed to leave until they were back on Earth, settled into some semblance of normal human life. And, despite my harsh words to Marco, I did not know if I could have brought myself to just walk, anyway.

I sighed. There was no good answer. Marco was only half-right: we had all lost.

I turned to walk back to where I had last seen Tobias. He, at least, would not condemn me for mixed loyalties: his very existence was a careful balance between conflicting desires. But then came a hesitant thought-speak call:

‹Prince Aximili?›

Insult to injury; this was becoming ridiculous. Estrid-Corill-Darrath had somehow returned and now addressed me as "prince", while Jake Berenson, my prince, lay under a tree watching bloody battle scenes replay beyond his eyes. Incomprehensible.

There was a flash of purple by the entrance to the Dome, then she was running across the grass toward me. It was too late to pretend to be elsewhere.

‹Yes, aristh,› I replied. In dealing with her, I had decided, it would be best to fall back upon old forms. I still did not know why she was on the Elfangor, nor even how she had come to be an aristh in the first place, but now was not the time for retreading our old relationship.

‹Prince Aximili, warrior Arbron would like to see you,› she reported, almost meekly.

Of course.

‹Aristh, you have delivered that message twice today already,› I observed.

At first, she did not respond. Through one stalk, I saw her digging at the ground in embarrassment, in that moment the girl I had known on Earth. My hearts ached. Earth, Estrid, Tobias ...or home.

That was all I really wanted: home with Mother and Father. I would run through the fields and not worry about prying eyes. I would never again have to become some vile creature; I would not act as spy, or diplomat, or mere distraction. I would...I would never see the humans again.

‹I know,› Estrid finally offered apologetically, interrupting my maudlin thoughts. I was grateful. ‹Arbron sent me again.›

And he sends an aristh to beg me, knowing she will be trapped between us, I thought but did not say. I did not want to meet with Arbron again. The last encounter had proved near-disastrous when I later confronted Alloran with the story Arbron had given me. I still did not know who the liar between them was, but I certainly was sick of dealing them both. Tobias at least seemed to find Arbron amusing; let my shorm talk to him.

‹Does he say why?› I asked, trying to keep my irritation out of my voice. None of this was Estrid's fault, and there was no sense in punishing her.

‹He says he can help you. Not that...› she trailed off.

I finished that sentence myself. I wanted to laugh. As Marco would say: Help me? Good luck with that. However, it was clear that Arbron was not to be deterred and, though his memory was even more questionable than Alloran's, perhaps meeting with him would be the end of this charade.

I turned to Estrid. ‹Where is he, then?›

Her eyes widened almost gleefully. She was quite enjoying all of this, despite her apologetic tones. A decades-long war was ending and she – somehow, somehow! – managed to be in the middle of it all.

‹In his quarters, Prince Aximili. I will show you the way.›

Despite myself, her comment amused me. I remembered well being the little aristh everyone sent on errands. Of course, I could have found Arbron quite well on my own – on a spaceship, there were only so many possible places for a Taxxon twice the size of a grown Andalite to be - but Estrid had been sent to fetch me, and part of that included the painfully awkward trip through the corridors. We did not talk. What could we have said that did not incriminate us both?

We arrived at Arbron's quarters in short order, as I expected. I dismissed Estrid at the door; there was no need for her to be witness to whatever new bit of information he cared to divulge. She was reluctant to go, but there was little question of her doing as she was told. To be certain, though, I reminded her of the tail-fighting practice with Offeran in the Dome she was no doubt avoiding. She smirked at the mention of "practice" and I mentally cringed with the memory of our sparring matches, but it did not matter: she was gone and I was left to face Arbron.

His room was sparse, even by Dome ship standards. Curiously, there was no grass growing on the floor. He would have had no use for it, of course, but why did they even have such a room?

I stepped inside. ‹Hello, Arbron.›

‹Prince Aximili,› he agreed. ‹Thank you for coming to see me. I have been looking forward to speaking with you again.›

I sighed. ‹What do you want, Arbron?›

‹As I have said: to help. You seem fond of War Prince Alloran, but I wonder...what do you know of him? Do you pity him, thinking the Yeerks made him as he is? No, Alloran's history goes back much further than Esplin 9446. He –›

‹I know of the Hork-Bajir world,› I interrupted, snappish. ‹I know of the deranged war prince. I have been told. It has not 'helped'.›

‹Yes, of course,› Arbron allowed. ‹You will have heard that from the nothlit Tobias, speaking for the Hork-Bajir Ket Halpak and Jara Hamee. Or, more directly, from Aldrea-Iskillion-Falan.›

Suddenly paranoid, I began to scan the room with my stalks, allowing my main eyes to focus on his huge form: this is how one prepares for battle. I longed to shout, Arbron laughed. ‹Do not be afraid, Aximili. I have been speaking with Toby Hamee. She really is quite remarkable; I had no idea... She's told me all about you, and Tobias. I'm quite curious, and she is infatuated, particularly with the hawk. And she says the Ellimists...!›

I scoffed. ‹The Ellimist, Arbron, or so I have come to believe. He seems to have taken a personal interest in that planet below us.›

‹Ah, yes. So it would seem. But tell me, is it really Earth he cares about?›

I was puzzled. ‹My experience would seem to indicate that, yes. At times, he speaks of a larger battle, but I have never understood that to mean our war, this war of Seerow's Kindness.›

Arbron looked surprised, or as surprised as it is possible for a Taxxon to seem. He must have incredible control, I marveled. I had been a Taxxon before, for a short time; my rational mind had been utterly abandoned to the hunger. For Arbron to be able to express even complex emotions so freely...

‹'The war of Seerow's Kindness',› he sneered suddenly, surprise giving way to the naturally aggressive visage of the Taxxon. ‹You say that as if old Seerow were to blame! Seerow's only fault was that he did not go far enough!›

‹What, should he have given himself up for infestation, as well?› I exclaimed, shocked.

Arbron did not respond at first. Then he said slowly, ‹Aximili, you of all people must know what he ought to have done. The Yeerks must morph. I did not understand it at the time, nor did Elfangor – the war was too new to us; we were too wrapped up in the battle. But that is the solution; the girl is absolutely correct! They will become nothlits; they will not cause any more harm. You yourself --›

I interrupted him sharply. ‹I supported my Prince! However, the lesson of Seerow's Kindness is clear: we must not share technology with other species. Unchecked attempts to do so are to be seen as treason.› And I was a part of that. I will always be a part of it, if I am not allowed to leave. ‹This present situation, sanctioned by the Electorate, may well be an exception, but what happened on Earth –›

‹No. Do not say that. You cannot believe that it would have been in anyone's best interests to have destroyed what ability we had to fight the Yeerks. You spoke once to Aldrea,› he protested. ‹Did she believe her father had committed any great sin? For that matter, do you honestly believe that you have committed treachery?›

I shook my head bitterly. He did not understand; he had been apart from our society for too long. Living amongst giant worms as he had for those many years, eating flesh and living under dirt, how could he not have been forced into moral compromises? I knew; I had, after all, lived amongst the humans of Earth.

‹Aldrea was no fit judge. She had been raised by Seerow; his sensibilities were her own. She was too deeply affected by the situation -- look at what she did on the Hork-Bajir world! Alloran may have created the quantum virus, but it was she who made the disaster out of it.›

‹You would have allowed the Hork-Bajir to be annihilated, then? As you allowed Estrid-Corill-Darrath and Arbat-Elivat-Estoni to annihilate the humans?› He swung his giant body around to peer at me with his second set of globular red eyes and, for a second, I saw my fractured reflection looking back at me from all angles.

Oh, but he enjoyed this! The intrigue, this position of being an outsider supposedly come to solve all of our problems. I could not understand Arbron's true role in this political drama, did not know how he had shown up on Earth at such a uniquely opportune moment nor how he had subsequently survived the battle and arrived on the Elfangor, but I did not trust him. He toyed with me; he toyed with all of us. I stared at him stonily with my main eyes, wishing I had not continued to avoid him.

‹I could not allow the humans to be annihilated,› I allowed reluctantly. ‹There were alternatives.›

‹So, if there had been no alternatives...?›

‹Obviously, one cannot know that there are no alternatives,› I snapped. ‹Three days ago, Visser One might have defeated us all. Prince Jake's plan succeeded admirably, of course, but nothing was guaranteed. On the Hork-Bajir world, however, there was no Prince Jake. There was a soft-hearted, dishonored scientist, and his wife and children. That is nothing to launch an effective resistance force with.›

I stopped myself. I would not say it. I was breathing heavily, my tail poised to strike. Arbron seemed to be laughing at me, purposely taunting. He had to know that his soft body would disintegrate if I so much as needled it, but he did not even back away. Instead, he asked quietly,

‹And five school-children were?›

I quivered with rage. If only he were yet Andalite! He insulted Elfangor, compared him to a traitorous fool, and I could make no move against him. I could not even allow myself to shriek in rage: I was supposed to be a prince, now, and princes cannot always do what arisths are allowed.

‹Elfangor saved us,› I hissed harshly. Why did he suddenly seem surprised? ‹Elfangor knew his enemy and he destroyed him. What did you do, worm? You hid on a backwater planet and kept a handful of repugnant beasts alive so they could come to Earth and become senseless, ground-crawling reptiles! You betrayed your people to save Taxxons. Never belittle my brother. Don't even speak his name!›

‹Oh, Aximili,› the pus-filled creature proclaimed mournfully. ‹I do not belittle Elfangor; I exalt him! As you say, I've saved only a handful of my people. But Elfangor, Elfangor! – he saved almost every one! Below us is a whole planet of Elfangor's people, saved from the Yeerks and the Andalites both.›

With that, I could restrain myself no more. I struck him aside the head with the flat of my blade, not very concerned what I damaged. He staggered backward a few clawed steps, dazed.

‹The humans were not Elfangor's people,› I screamed, ‹and they were never my people, either.›

‹Funny you should bring that up,› the nothlit replied in a voice I can only describe as amused. ‹I hadn't even gotten to that part yet.›

Truly uncaring now, I hit him again, harder. Yellowish phlegm flew in clumps from the point of impact and the Taxxon called Arbron fell to the floor of the Elfangor, finally silent.