…

New York City

…

It was three in the morning, and James couldn't sleep. Grace snored quietly on the far side of their king bed. Deciding he couldn't stare at the ceiling any longer, James slid his feet into his slippers and quietly made his way towards the door. The penthouse they'd been granted had more space than anything James had lived in his whole life. If they'd been back home in Virginia, James would've stayed in bed in order not to wake his wife. However, given the space in the penthouse, James was confident he could find an alcove in which he could turn on a light to read without waking his family.

James shut the door behind him and walked down the long hallway in the dark, tracing his hand along the wall for guidance. He passed Margaret's and Lizzie's rooms and turned the corner. To his surprise, James saw a faint light emanating from the living room. James walked over to the room, figuring someone had accidentally left a light on, but was surprised to find Gregor still awake and staring at the TV.

His son had the news playing, but had it on mute. He sat upright on the couch, hardly moving, eyes transfixed on the screen. Subtitles ran across the bottom of the screen. "UNDERLAND QUEEN TO SIGN TREATY IN NEW YORK IN MORNING," it read. "HOUSE AND SENATE IN DISAGREEMENT OVER TERMS. CAN UNDERLANDERS BE TRUSTED?"

"Grim, isn't it?" Gregor said suddenly without turning, causing James to flinch slightly. He sometimes forgot that his son could echolocate.

James walked around the couch and sat next to his son. "It is," he agreed.

Gregor refused to look at him. "I don't know what tomorrow will bring," he admitted.

"Hey," James said. "I meant what I said earlier. I support you no matter what."

His son finally turned to face him, and James was shocked to see tears welling in his eyes. "What if I can't ever come back?" Gregor whispered. "That's what I'm truly afraid of."

James leaned forward and enveloped his wayward son in a hug, partially to not let his son see his own tears. "Whatever happens, you'll know where to find me," James insisted. "Whatever you need."

Gregor pulled away after a moment, his jaw set. "I fell in love with the Underland. I fell in love with her, Dad. I'm an Underlander now, but I'm an Overlander, too. Why do my worlds have to fight? I don't know if they'll ever be compatible with each other. I fear the worst."

James shook his head. "You have to have hope, son. Even if it goes south tomorrow, even if you must say goodbye to us for now," he choked out, "you have to have hope. Don't you ever give that up. That's what keeps you going, yeah?"

Gregor leaned forward ever so slightly, nodding in agreement. "I've seen what that kind of darkness looks like," he said soberly. "I refuse to let it consume me. Not again."

Those long summer days in Virginia where Gregor would sit in his bedroom all day. No friends, no sunshine. Only him and his journals and books. When his son thought his parents weren't paying attention, he'd practiced echolocation and rager stances in his room, too. It had broken James's heart. No matter how hard he'd tried, no matter what he'd done, he'd never been able to save Gregor.

James leaned back into the couch. "Tell me about your dreams," he said. "What's next in the Underland?"

Gregor's eyes lit up. "There's much rebuilding still to be done, but there's real unity now Dad. You saw it. Working together, I really think we're about to see an unprecedented age of innovation and exploration in the Underland. Maybe we'll send a team out into the Uncharted Lands, see if there are places out there that are hospitable for us. Maybe we'll build an entire new city from scratch." Gregor laughed with joy just from thinking about it.

"But that's not what you're most excited about."

Gregor's smile softened. "No."

"Don't go having babies too quickly," James joked. "No more quests into the unknown for you after that."

While a younger Gregor might've blushed in embarrassment, the man before him simply rolled his eyes. "We're Underlanders, Dad," he said. "There'll always be another quest."

James wagged a finger. "Yes, but there's an order to things. You'll be chasing your son down after he ran off without telling you too, one day. You'll see."

Gregor laughed. "I suppose I would deserve that." He kicked his feet up. "So, while we're at it. What are your plans once you get back to Virginia?" James fell silent, and his son suddenly seemed to realize he'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry, I—"

James gave his son a half-smile. "No, it's a fair thing to ask. I guess I'll go back to being a science teacher, if the school doesn't mind having a celebrity for an employee. I want to do something normal with the rest of my life." He took a deep breath. "That's where I'll be, son. Virginia. For the rest of my days. I promise."

Gregor met his gaze. "Okay," he whispered.

He forced a smile onto his face. "Want some ice cream?" he asked. "We have a carton in the fridge. Cookies and cream, your favorite."

His son, thankfully, went along with him. "Sure. Want to watch a movie or something?"

"How about the original Alice in Wonderland, 1951? I don't know if I ever showed you that one." It seemed fitting, somehow.

"Sounds good, Dad." Finally, Gregor flipped off that horrid news program, switching over to the Disney app on the TV. "I'll set it up while you get the ice cream."

James took his time in the kitchen, carefully scooping two perfectly rounded scoops into each bowl. Just as Grace had used to, he drew a little star in chocolate sauce on the top scoop of each bowl. Finally, he put a small spoon in each bowl, each one positioned exactly the same and squeaky clean.

Satisfied with his creations, he walked back out into the living room and handed one bowl to his son, sitting back down beside him. "This is perfect, Dad," Gregor said. He raised the remote and hit the play button to start the movie.

"It is," James whispered, looking at his son.

…

Outside Regalia

…

Deep underground, Mariana simply couldn't sleep. It was too claustrophobic. She'd grown up on vast ranchland in west Texas. She wasn't wired for a cramped place like this. Especially now, with the faint trembling in the earth all around her. The scientists had told her that such noises were common this far underground, but Mariana couldn't help but take it as an omen that she didn't belong here.

But if she didn't belong where she was, where did she belong?

She pushed herself out of her sleeping bag, determined to find the one person who'd know the answer, who'd put the crappy idea about her being reborn in her head in the first place. Grabbing a lamp, she made her way through the American basecamp, following the familiar route to August's tent.

Outside his tent, she suddenly realized she couldn't really knock on his flap, so instead she coughed awkwardly. Despite the fact it was barely five in the morning, the response was immediate. "Come in," August said.

She swung open the flap and stepped into August's small abode. It was completely bare of any personal items. Just a sleeping bag, a lantern, his weapon, and a change of clothes. August had a small book in his hands. He snapped it shut as she sat down.

She fidgeted a little with her hands. "How can I be reborn?" she asked.

August looked at her with those piercing dark eyes of his. "Why do you want to know?"

"Haven't we been doing this work long enough?" she asked him. "Ten years I've worked with you, and I didn't even know your real name until a few weeks ago. This work," she stammered, staring at her quivering hands, "it's so… dirty. I think I'd rather trust myself again than continue on like this."

"Why now," he asked. "Why now, after all this time?"

"He used me," Mariana whispered. "I refused to think for myself, so he thought for me. No matter how awful the missions I did before, I could always pretend that somehow, I was doing good. I can't pretend any longer. Barwell's in prison, convicted of treason, and I've met the Underlanders. If the government asks me to raise my gun against them again, I won't be able to do it." Her eyes started to water.

August reached out, and doing something she never would have expected, cupped her face, wiping her tears away. "I've run from myself for a long time, too," he said quietly. "I think everyone in this line of work is running from something."

Mariana leaned into his hands ever so slightly. "When we decided to help James," she said, "I felt the best I'd felt in years. Doing what my heart told me was right… it was as if the world suddenly became brighter that day. Or as if I had woken up from a long, hazy dream."

"Then let's not go back to sleep," August said. "Let's leave. Tonight."

An odd mixture of thrill and fear flooded her. "But where would we go?" she asked. "Where wouldn't the Bureaucracy find us?"

"I don't know," August said almost as a whisper. "Maybe we'll be running for the rest of our lives. Maybe we won't be reborn. But we won't know unless we try."

Suddenly energized, she stood, grabbing August's hand and tugging him to his feet after her. "Let's do it, then," she said strongly. "Let's go somewhere that's not here."

As the two made their way through the base camp towards the shaft and freedom, Mariana allowed herself to think of her mother again for the first time in over a decade. How to explain a lifetime of mistakes and regret? There was no easy way around it, was there? She'd put it off for long enough. Mentally, she started to compose a letter.

Mom,

I don't know how to begin this. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for him to die. I loved him more than the world itself. I'm sure you've seen me in the news recently and wondered what had happened to me. I've been lost for a long time, Mom.

There's a lot I have to tell you about…

…

The Fount

…

In the early hours before the city woke, Luxa found her cousin Nerissa standing alone on the highest balcony in the Fount's grand palace. Nerissa's frail hands were gripped tightly against the railing, and she seemed to be staring off at something in the distance.

Luxa had to blink twice to make sure she was seeing correctly. After the War of Time, Nerissa had grown increasingly elusive until she'd disappeared one day, leaving a note behind saying that she'd moved to the Fount. Luxa had barely seen her cousin since. She approached the balcony tentatively, and then stopped, hesitating.

"It's good to see you, cousin," Nerissa said vacantly, not turning to face her.

Luxa startled slightly. "It's good to see you too," she said, walking stiffly out to the balcony and leaning on the rail next to Nerissa. Even after seven days, her body still ached from the trampling.

"Today will be the beginning and the end," Nerissa said suddenly.

Luxa looked at her cousin. Her frame was so ghostly thin, it looked as if a strong wind would blow her over. Yet, a strange energy seemed to radiate from her. Everyone knew of Nerissa's gift of prophecy, inherited from their ancestor Bartholomew of Sandwich. However, it only came to Nerissa rarely. "What do you mean?" Luxa asked.

"Last of our line," Nerissa continued, "but first of a long one that follows you. I saw it years ago. Your destiny was always clear to me."

Luxa shivered at the words. "What will I lose today?" she asked.

Her cousin didn't seem to hear her. "I do not have much light left. I will see Henry again soon."

Luxa hugged herself as the distant memories came back to her. An empty palace, betrayal after betrayal. So quiet. Too many ghosts. "Tell him that I forgive him," Luxa said softly, more for her cousin than herself. She felt for her cousin and her ill health, but Nerissa had been slowly dying for a long time now. Maybe with Henry in the next life she could finally find some peace.

Suddenly, Nerissa seemed cogent again, turning to face Luxa. "We grew up so alone," she said. "Don't risk yourself unnecessarily. Don't let your children grow up as we did."

Paling slightly, Luxa nodded. Her children? What did Nerissa see? How many did she have? Would they be safe? She bit her tongue.

Nerissa reached out and grabbed Luxa's hand. Luxa had never been a tall or large person, but her hand dwarfed that of her cousin's. "Bring him home today, Luxa." Nerissa said. "His destiny lies with you. A Protector. A King. When I saw him for the first time all those years ago, his destiny screamed so loudly at me it took all I had not to say it aloud."

Luxa had reflected on her quests with Gregor many times over their five year separation, and she'd long since come to the conclusion that she'd felt a pull towards him from the very beginning, even if she hadn't recognized that pull as attraction until much later. She smiled. Her and Gregor… they had always been meant to be. "I will, cousin."

Nerissa pulled away, walking slowly back into the palace. At the entryway, she paused, looking over her shoulder at Luxa. "Fly you high, in now and all the years to come," she said. "You will be the Queen of an age." With that, she disappeared back into the palace. Luxa couldn't help but feel a strange sense of finality from her dying cousin's words.

Luxa turned back towards the city, watching as her people slowly woke from their slumber. It would be time soon. Time to go to the Overland, rescue Gregor, and seal themselves off from the Overland for good. Time to fight one last battle, for all the Underland and all the generations that would follow.

…

Author's Note

A chapter of reflections. Next chapter, Gregor, Luxa, and the Americans will all meet, with Mr. Barwell still in play. Will the plan go off without a hitch, or will things go sideways? Who will live, and who will die? Find out next time ;)

- Gyltig