Henry followed Gregor with his eyes when he excused himself, still with his sister in his arms, to search for that crawler they had apparently taken as a babysitter—or whatever his purpose here was. Henry couldn't help a short laugh—a crawler on a boat! Now he had seen everything.

When the Overlander had moved out of earshot, he sat back down. His eyes found Thanatos, Mareth, and Andromeda, and he had to fight another surge of jealousy over how freely the flier could disclose his identity.

Henry forced his gaze back to his backpack. Well, at least, like this, he could pretend to forget Howard's name as often as he liked. Picturing his offended face made him grin. But the glee lasted not long. Even the crawler seemed to be useful for at least babysitting, but Howard? It was inconceivable to Henry that he would find Howard, of all individuals, on this quest.

In search of him, Henry let his gaze roam until he saw him stationed at the helm, guiding the vessel. Right; Stellovet had never been shy about boasting of her brother's extensive seafaring experience. But Mareth could also navigate. So, indeed, nothing excused Howard's presence here.

Howard is here, because Henry is not, a quiet yet pungent voice whispered in his head.

Henry scoffed, tugging hard at the clasp of his backpack. As if Howard even marginally had what it took to replace him!

Howard may not be everything that Henry is, the voice replied, but he is also not a traitor.

Enough. Henry forcefully silenced the voice and almost felt it duck away in fear. Whether Howard's presence here was justified or not didn't matter. He was here either way, so Henry would have to deal with him. To distract himself, he dug deeper into his backpack in search of his notebook.

"What are you looking for?" asked Thanatos, suddenly appearing next to him.

"Oh no." Henry didn't even look up. "Have your old friends grown tired of your company, so now you show interest in me again?" To his dismay, Henry felt his face flush with suppressed irritation.

"Now that is just unfair."

"Never mind," hissed Henry, still without looking at the flier. "Aren't you glad that I talked you into coming here after all?"

Thanatos dropped by Henry's side, ignoring his dripping sarcasm. "Mareth, Andromeda, and I were close a long time ago," he said, and Henry felt his urgent gaze on him. "It is harder than you thought to hide your identity around your familiars, no?"

"How would you know?" Henry pulled his legs up and shoved the mask down to conceal more of his face.

"I would not," said Thanatos simply, and a period of awkward silence passed. "However, I am willing to admit that you were right," the flier continued after a while. "It was not such a bad idea. I had not considered that there may be people here with whom I also used to share a connection."

"Well, at least for one of us, it was a beneficial endeavor."

"What do you mean?" asked Thanatos. "Did you not yet do what you set out to do when we saved the Overlander?"

Henry shrugged. It had been a start, but . . . "At least it is an opportunity to make fun of Howard," he said with a forced smile.

Thanatos laughed. "What has he ever done to you?" he asked conversationally. "For you to despise him so?"

Henry shrugged again. "It is just Howard," he said. "When we were little, he was that child who always sucked it up to the teachers and thought of himself as having the authority to enforce rules on the sole basis of being an excellent student. A snitch and a spoilsport, at best."

"My, must you two have gotten along."

"About as well as you would think." Henry didn't even attempt to count the times that Howard had gotten either him or Luxa in trouble needlessly. "Although we had our fun taunting him and his siblings in exchange."

The thought of the glorious pranks and schemes he used to concoct to ridicule Howard and Stellovet finally made Henry grin again. "Although the only problem I had with Stellovet was her picking on Nerissa—my little sister," said Henry, still smiling. "Whereas the thing with Howard was something like a "boys-of-the-same-age rivalry" thing—if Howard could even be considered a rival." He let out a short laugh. "In fact, Luxa never ceased to joke that I should marry Stellovet one day, as "I am the only boy with a tongue sharper than hers" and "in this manner, she could finally be a princess, as she so desperately wants". The only response I had was that if she wanted a shot, she should learn not to bully my sister."

Henry grinned for a moment longer, but then it hit him that all of these memories belonged to a past that was gone forever and that Luxa and he would never joke together again. His grin vanished at once.

"So, you are confirming my theory about you royal lot being the resident misbehaving brats?" was all Thanatos said, and Henry made a face in his direction.

"We were royalty. We could be as misbehaving as we wanted," he said, knowing exactly that it was not entirely true. His actions did have consequences—not concrete punishments, but in the form of rumors and reputations. He is utterly unworthy of his title and his status, and I have no faith that this will ever change.

Annoyed, Henry shoved the nagging voices—along with the thought that nobody had ever told such rumors about Luxa, even though she had been there with him every time—aside. "I suppose we were," he admitted grudgingly. "Do you blame us for being spoiled and entitled when we—"

Henry cut himself off the moment he found Twitchtip on his right, creeping closer. He tensed, cursing himself for having forgotten that she was supposed to accompany the quest. So far, he had successfully ignored the fear of being recognized that the sight of her evoked. But even if she hadn't smelled him before, a rat who could smell colors from beyond the stink of sulfur could certainly also make out that he and Luxa were related. Her silence thus far left him in a state of bewilderment; he didn't trust it.

"You fear me."

Henry jumped when she addressed him for the first time, and Thanatos raised his head as well.

"Or more specifically," amended Twitchtip, "you f-fear what I can smell."

Henry forced himself to look at her. "Do I have any reason to?"

Twitchtip began working her nose with her paw. "You do not want them to learn you are her cousin." She pointed at Luxa with the tip of her tail. "You fear me because I can s-smell, smell that you—"

"Don't." Henry turned to her and attempted to convey as much urgency in his gaze as he could. "Please. You—"

"Do not fear," she cut him off. "If you do not wish for them to know, I will trust you to have your r-reason." She lowered her head. "I owe you my life. And whatever that reason is, I wanted you to know—" She sniffed. "I will not condemn you, not after you saved me. A life for a life!" she blurted out, then hastily scrambled up and scurried away.

Henry and Thanatos watched her curl up at the back of the boat and exchanged glances. "Let's be glad she knows honor," the flier mumbled, and Henry nodded. What a surprising stroke of luck in all his misery—Howard-related and otherwise.

Twitchtip was soon joined by Gregor and Ares; from where he sat, he couldn't hear what they were saying to her, but Henry tensed at their sight anyway. At the sight of Ares—the flier he had once called friend . . . bond, who had let him fall—and the one he had saved instead. If he recalled one thing from the mess of an introduction that had followed his permission to stay last night, it was that Ares was Gregor's bond. When and how had that even happened?

"Is Ares not your former bond?" asked Thanatos, noticing Henry's gaze. "Does his sight trouble you?"

Henry shrugged. "I am concerned that he may recognize me more so than anyone else." It wasn't a lie; he did worry that Ares might pick up on something that everyone else missed—him or Luxa. But it wasn't the full truth either. "He is the past," said Henry after a short pause. "The past is not worth clinging to." He bit down on his tongue before "I have you now" could slip from it.

Agitatedly, Henry turned his gaze down to his backpack again, and suddenly he held the scroll Gregor had given him in his hand. Nerissa had wanted him to have it. Had Gregor not mentioned her name, Henry may have dismissed it, but so?

Considering he was the only human who possessed a flaming sword . . . and was, coincidentally, allies with a flier named Death, he was the closest thing there was to a live version of the Death Rider. Henry almost laughed; he hadn't even tried to make himself more like the figure of legends. Before the Ignifer, he hadn't even thought of him very much. Not since shortly after the deaths of his parents.

Playing pretend as some mythical reaper figure was childish, and he had better things to do. Henry made a face. But was it really? Even now that he . . . had a true flaming sword?

Why not? Henry suddenly thought. Why couldn't he be the Death Rider? Had he not always proclaimed that he had been elected to become the next Death Rider as a child? Henry snorted. He could be the Death Rider if he really wanted; it dawned on him. He twisted the scroll between his fingers; he could claim the name and merge himself with the image even more so than he already had inadvertently.

After a brief pause, Henry dropped the scroll into his waterproof container, feeling irritated. Yes, it was still childish. He was no Death Rider. If he really went around and proclaimed this, he would be ridiculed.

The sole trace of uncertainty that remained was that it was Nerissa who had given the scroll to Gregor. A surge of longing to see her suddenly pierced Henry's heart. Not counting everyone on the boat, she was the one he missed the most. Nerissa would be fine, he told himself. She was resilient and wise, and . . . she would be of age next year, he thought, and was hit with another wave of melancholy. Henry wouldn't even be there to congratulate her.

For a second, he considered whether she knew he was alive—that it was her brother Henry to whom Gregor was to hand the scroll. Maybe, he thought, looking up. It wouldn't surprise him. There are evils beyond death, her words rang in his ears, and despite his sorrow, he smiled.

There are, he replied in his head. And I shall win over every single one that I encounter, as I do.

A few hours of quiet travel passed, and Henry and Thanatos eventually fell asleep right where they had sat on the floor. Henry hadn't slept since their trip over the waterway, and Thanatos was not yet at full strength either, after his exceptional flight.

The questers let them sleep, but the flier woke as soon as he smelled lunch, and Henry was up instantly as well, being the first to heed Mareth's call—discounting the shiners.

Mareth asked him to help gut and prepare the fresh fish again; as unsurprised as Henry was to be the only one besides Mareth who knew how to properly gut a fish, it was still immensely satisfying that he could call himself more practically skilled than everyone else in the group now.

As he used Mys to expertly work the fish, his gaze shifted over to Gregor. On their last quest, the Overlander had to show him and Luxa how to make a basic food item such as a sandwich. Immense pride swept over him when he noticed that he now outperformed even Mareth at the art of food-making.

"Excuse me . . ."

Henry looked up when Mareth suddenly addressed him.

"I thought I should mention this dagger," the soldier said, pointing his own knife at Mys. "It is exceptional."

"Mys." Henry raised it with a proud grin. "It is my most prized possession." He spun it niftily, and then he was surrounded again. The quickness with which they all encircled him again made him suspect that they had been waiting for the right moment to ask about the dagger. Especially Luxa and Mareth were enamored with it; Howard was too—Henry saw it in his face—but he had enough self-restraint not to act on it.

"Is this gold?" Luxa stared at the blade with round eyes.

"An alloy," said Henry, glad that Mareth requested to hold it before Luxa could ask where he had gotten the gold from.

He waited a moment longer to bring up the dagger's most striking trait—that it had originally been one of Gorger's teeth. Only then did Gregor become interested as well. He looked the blade over and shuddered. "Man!" he said after a pause. "That's one heck of a tooth. At least Gorger can't use it anymore."

Henry laughed at the Overlander. He really was no warrior, but . . . well, he was not intolerable. Henry thought he had never met someone like him before—who was kind and open-minded but neither a nitpicky stickler nor a timid coward. Then it suddenly occurred to Henry that Gregor shared traits with Nerissa. Both were cautious, skeptical, and lacking in natural battle prowess, but they were not weak or witless.

While Luxa and Mareth passed his dagger between themselves multiple times, not ceasing to compliment it for a moment, Henry positioned himself next to Gregor. "You aren't fond of weapons," he observed. "Are you not the warrior?" One of the best things about remaining anonymous, as Henry had found, was that he could ask any question he desired without drawing odd looks.

Gregor twitched. "That's what Sandwich and the prophecies call me." He shrugged. "I guess that's what I am, then."

"But you are not fond of it?"

"No," said Gregor. "I don't like fighting." A silent moment went by. "That probably sounds absurd to someone like you, doesn't it?"

"Someone like me?"

"Well, someone who has to . . . you know," Gregor gesticulated at him, "fight all the time just to get by."

Henry laughed. "Oh, no, I have heard far absurder things. But in that case—" He gave Gregor's back a hefty pat. "I hereby rename thee the "Pacifist Warrior". What say—do you like this title better?"

Everyone nearby broke into laughter, including Luxa, who had approached with Mys in hand, presumably to give it back. "It fits him much better," she said, giggling.

"The only variant of the warrior epithet that could ever truly fit him," said Ares.

Gregor awkwardly joined in the laughter. "Yeah," he said. "But isn't that a paradox?"

"That is the point!" exclaimed Henry. "Because a pacifist who was dubbed a "warrior" is a paradox. I am merely fitting your title with your demeanor."

". . . Thanks," said Gregor, and Henry wondered if he had ever seen him this awkward. It only occurred to him much later that he may not enjoy so much attention.

Still grinning, Henry had to almost wring Mys out of Luxa's hand, so unwilling was she to give it back.

"Your new bond has an exquisite weapon," said Mareth, longingly following the dagger with his eyes. Thanatos' head shot up, and he almost toppled over where he had sat with Andromeda; likewise, Henry almost dropped Mys before he could sheathe it.

"We are not bonds," hissed Henry.

"He is not my bond," the flier concurred with utmost adamancy.

"He is useful," Henry amended.

"So is he, occasionally," Thanatos added.

"We are allies. But not bound for life!"

"Not now and not ever."

His next remark became lodged in Henry's throat. He had no time to process why he felt so triggered by those words because Mareth cut off their torrent of protest. "At ease!" he called. "We have understood."

Mareth looked back and forth between them pensively, then turned back to the others. "We have more urgent matters to consider," he said, eyeing the assembled cast. "The two outcasts who saved Gregor and Twitchtip yesterday have a proposition for you. I spoke with Thanatos earlier, and I believe he has informed his . . . ally." Mareth shot Henry an almost bemused look. "About this."

Henry nodded. Before they had fallen asleep, Thanatos had told him what he had proposed to Mareth, and even though he considered himself proficient in the field of rhetorics, Henry was infinitely glad that he didn't have to ask himself.

"I have disclosed to them the purpose of our quest," Mareth continued. "And so, they have offered us their help in killing the Bane."

An uproar instantly went through the assembly, and Henry's heart sank at the mostly hostile faces. They had let them stay because they hadn't wanted to condemn them to death, but he saw at first glance that they would not be moved to allow outcasts to join their cause.

"This is an outrage," hissed Howard. "They are outcasts! They must leave at once!"

"We are . . . grateful for your saving of Gregor," said Luxa, and Henry registered that she had left out Twitchtip. "But we may not have strangers on such a sensitive mission."

Henry clenched his jaw. "Do you not need all the help you can get?" he tried, but earned only further protests.

"It would be unwise to have those with us of whom we cannot be absolutely certain whether we can trust them," said Ares.

"You have not proven your loyalty," concurred Luxa bluntly, and Henry thought she may as well have been speaking to him—to her cousin Henry—and not an unfamiliar outcast.

There was another vote, and this time, everyone except for Mareth, Andromeda, Gregor, the crawler—Temp was his name, Henry could have sworn—and Twitchtip voted against them. He had expected Mareth's, Andromeda's, and Twitchtip's votes, and even Temp's—he had proven his loyalty to the crawlers, after all—but Henry found himself surprised that the Overlander trusted him so much.

"You would have taken us?" he asked him, already preparing for departure.

"You saved mine and Twitchtip's lives when no one else on this boat did," shrugged Gregor. "Besides, I could probably really use all the help I can get if I'm going up against some giant white rat."

"Go kick his ass," said Henry with a grin and another pat on his back. "We will never be far off either way." He raised his gaze toward Mareth.

"This may come in useful once they regret this decision," said the soldier somberly.

Henry looked them all over one last time and realized that he was already missing them. All of them. Even the ones he hadn't thought he could ever miss, like Howard and Gregor—hell, he thought he might start missing the crawler before all this was over.

"You leave?" asked a tiny voice by his leg, and Henry found Boots patting his fur-clad leg dejectedly. "Don't go."

"I must," he said, giving her his brightest smile. With something like surprise, Henry—who had never liked children—found that he would miss her too.

"Oh!" Boots wailed and encircled his leg with her tiny arms.

"Hey," Gregor cleared his throat. "I just . . . I wanted to say thank you." He scratched his head awkwardly. "You know, for saving me and Twitchtip. I wish I could do something." He threw a glance back. "But they don't want to seem disloyal, so that's why they tell themselves they can't accept help from an outlaw—outcast—whatever you are."

Henry followed Gregor's gaze, and it landed on Luxa's back that she had turned on him. Howard and their bonds were assembled around her. An unwarranted arrow pierced his heart when he understood she didn't even allow herself to bid him farewell. Would he ever see her again?

"Farewell to the Wielder of Light, farewell," mumbled Temp, who had come up beside Boots. "Not send you away they should, not send," he added after a pause, and at that moment, Henry stopped caring.

"Farewell!" he called in the crawler's direction. "Take care of the baby for me! You too," he said to Gregor with another bright smile. Under normal circumstances, Henry thought he and Gregor would not really get along—so had their first and only quest together shown—but the boy was . . . kind, and someone just being unconditionally kind was oddly . . . gratifying. For a moment, Henry found it peculiar how unfamiliar the experience was.

"You're welcome." He tipped the top of his mask like a hat. "We help until we have proven our loyalty."

"Is that your goal?" said Ares behind Gregor, and Henry winced.

"Is it unachievable?" Thanatos asked in response.

"In my eyes, you are well on your way," said Mareth.

Henry pondered it for a moment. Was that not exactly what he had told himself he wanted to do here? To prove . . . his loyalty.

"We shall work on it, then," he exclaimed, mounting up. "Fly you high!" He stared, trying his best to memorize their faces. This was not the last time he would see them. It could not be.

"Fly you high!" reciprocated Gregor and Mareth. "Fly you high!" Andromeda and Twitchtip. The last thing that Henry registered was that he thought he saw Ares' mouth forming the words as well. But no one else's.

As the boat grew smaller in the distance and disappeared out of sight altogether, Henry suddenly wondered if that was how Vikus had felt when he and Luxa hadn't reciprocated his "Fly you high", uttered after leaving them with Ripred. He pressed his lips together, irritated by how much that bothered him all of a sudden.

As soon as he could no longer make out the boat, Henry turned ahead again. But at the same time, he knew that, come what may, he would not leave the people on the boat to fate. He knew it with as much certainty as he had known that he would join this quest. Rather, he would drown in the depths below.