"Basilisk! No! Basilisk! Basilisk!"

"Snakeheart, come on. Stand, come on, Snakeheart, please, come, please—"

"Basilisk, basilisk, basilisk!"

Arms around him. His legs collapsed. Lifted, draped over something, jostled and moving.

The darkness was all-consuming.

Goodbye, Hatcher. Thank you.

small blue sprout

"Snakeheart, please, please, open your eyes. I can't do this without you. Snakeheart, please. Give me your hand. Snakeheart!"

The words trickled into Harry's brain and made sense for the first time. He coughed. His throat felt ragged.

"Snakeheart? Are you back?!"

Harry pulled one hand from his face—sunlight hit his eyelids, and he winced—and groped around. Araeo's hand slid into his instantly. Their heartbeats slipped into sync, and something in Harry's soul straightened itself.

He took his other hand from his face. His eyes felt crusty and tired. "Araeo?" His voice was hoarse.

"Snakeheart," Araeo said with relief.

Harry sat up, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. He cracked his eyes open and the noon light nearly blinded him. Araeo's face was a rictus of distress. "Where are we?" Harry croaked. "What happened?"

"Half a mile from the cavern, perhaps. When I returned to myself I found you on the floor of the cave, hysterical. You wouldn't respond to me. I—I carried you on my back out of the cave. You must never tell my father."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked wearily, trying to remember the past … however long it had been.

"It is considered a great insult."

"I won't tell."

"You were crying out for the basilisk."

And Harry remembered. He gave a great gasp of pain, free hand pressing against his heart. "Oh, no, no."

Araeo put one strong hand against his cheekbone and tilting his head to meet his cloudy eyes. "Snakeheart, do not fall back into it! I do not know what you saw, but you must understand: the future is never fixed! My people learn this lesson even before we learn the names of the stars! For a single so-called prophecy, the interpretations, complications, and consequences are myriad. Whatever you saw, your mind is filling in the worst possible outcome. But to believe you saw the one true future… it is arrogance and folly, Snakeheart. And it will lead you to ruin."

Harry put his hand over Araeo's desperately, clutching it against his cheek. "I saw the basilisk killed by a curse," he said.

Araeo shook his head. "No you did not. What did you see? Strip your interpretations from it. Do not impose your assumptions."

"I saw a curse hit the basilisk. I saw it fall."

"And that is all?"

Harry nodded.

With his thumb, Araeo stroked the lines of Harry's scar. "That is all," he said softly. "You do not know what the curse was. You do know how cast it and for what reason. You do not know why the basilisk fell—whether death or sleep or some other state. Do you hear me?"

Harry nodded. "I hear you." He took a deep breath, and Araeo tentatively released him, passing him a cup of water. Harry drank it greedily. He felt destroyed. He didn't feel the panic rising in him as strongly, but neither did he completely believe Araeo. He would keep telling himself, though, until he believed it.

And then he realized what Araeo had not mentioned. "Your Searching! What happened?"

Araeo's mouth quirked. "I cannot exactly tell you, Snakeheart. But I found what I was looking for, in a way I did not expect."

Harry smiled in relief. "Good."

"I am curious," Araeo said. "My mother never mentioned that you would find something as well. Were you also searching? Why did you not tell me?"

Harry shook his head. "The guardians of that place were old friends. They wanted to repay me."

"Guardians?" Araeo asked curiously. "The only guardians I met were two ashwinders."

"Snakes?" Harry asked.

Araeo nodded.

"Those were them. I watched them hatch a long time ago."

Araeo gaped at him, and then shook his head, laughing. "I don't know why I'm surprised. At this point I'm amazed you aren't friends with the rocks and grass we pass."

"Not yet," Harry said, grinning. "Give me time."

small blue sprout

The journey home went faster. Araeo said that was because they were familiar with the path now—a trick of the mind, for it took just as long. The heat of summer was almost upon them, and Harry didn't even need his acro-silk blanket to sleep under anymore. Some nights even leaning against Araeo was simply too hot to bear comfortably.

He tried to recapture the serenity he had felt on the way to the caves, but it had been shattered by his vision. Anxiety and dread crept in day by day—as did the urge to see the basilisk with his own eyes, to make sure it was alive. Over and over he repeated Araeo's warning to himself, but that dread never lessened.

Still, he found that tranquility again in moments. At the sight of a far-away winged shape wheeling through the sky. The moment he and Araeo thought to turn around to see where they'd been, and the sheer majesty of the mountains knocked all of the words from them for hours. When they came upon a flock of burrowing birds who were so unafraid as to come peck at their feet in curiosity. Those cooler nights with Araeo, hand in hand, meditating to their heartbeat.

They journeyed back across the foothills, and back into the rolling hills, and back into the forest. Though it would take them longer, they decided to go around the deep wood.

Neither admitted it, but the secret reason was to prolong their journey. Harry was desperate to see the basilisk and eager to reunited with his friends, but the thought of leaving Araeo after so many months of symbiosis was altogether horrid. He knew Araeo felt the same, but to speak it was to give it power.

But at last, the moment came when they stepped back into centaur territory. Harry felt the weight of everything fall back onto his shoulders, a weight he'd never realized was there until it was back: his friends, his family, his duties, his troubles.

He felt Araeo's eyes on him, and turned to meet it. Araeo's foggy eyes were welling up with tears.

"Don't," Harry said, "or I will too." His throat felt very hot.

"Why shouldn't we?" Araeo asked. "Do wizards think crying is bad?" It was too late anyway, and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"I don't know," Harry said. Hadn't the basilisk once asked him that? Where had he learned it? Araeo's heartbeat was sorrowful and so was Harry's, and he let himself cry.

Firenze and Kireris met them a few miles from the village. They greeted them solemnly, a hint of oncoming ceremony, but Harry could see their joy underneath. They embraced them both—Harry was surprised and happy to be greeted as a friend—took their packs, and walked them back to the village.

With every step they took, Araeo's hand clenched tighter around his. By the time they were ten minutes from the village, both of them were trembling.

This is all wrong, Harry thought suddenly. It shouldn't be like this at all.

"Wait. Firenze? Kireros?"

Everyone stopped at the tone of his voice. Araeo's uncles looked at him.

"Can Araeo and I please have a moment to speak?" he asked.

"Of course," Kireros said, bowing his head. "We will wait over there."

Harry watched them go, and then turned to Araeo, who was looking at him in distress. With intent, Harry released Araeo's hand.

There was a moment as their heartbeats slipped apart. A bit of calm came filtering back, and some of the overwhelming agony faded.

"We're making it worse," Harry said. "Do you really want your Searching to end this way? It feels like we're marching to a funeral."

Araeo took a deep breath and scrubbed his face with his hands. "You're right. It's only that I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to leave you," Harry said. "But I want to go."

"That's what I meant," Araeo said. "We have work to do."

With their hearts distant, calm was returning. Harry's nerves settled. He beckoned Araeo close and put his forehead against his. "I don't even live a day's walk away," he said, laughing slightly. "I'm in the forest all the time."

Araeo grinned. "You're right. We're being dramatic."

"Yep." Harry smiled. "Ready now?"

"Yes."

They caught up to Firenze and Kireros in better spirits. They didn't join hands, but they did walk close enough to brush together on odd steps.

In the village center Nayla and Bane were waiting. The village had gathered again, and the moment Araeo and Harry stepped inside they began cheering, tossing flowers over them, shouting and yelling and rushing to hug them. When they finally made it up to Nayla, Harry tried to hang back, but Araeo seized his elbow and hauled him up with him.

Nayla and Bane embraced their son, and then Harry—even Bane, and to Harry's shock, it felt genuine.

"Stargazer Band," Nayla shouted, over the cheers. "We gather to witness Heir Araeo, my son, son of Bane, nephew to Firenze and Kireris,"

"—heartkin to Snakeheart," Araeo butted in, to the laughter of the assembled centaurs.

"—heartkin to Snakeheart," Nayla agreed, lips twitching, "as he returns to us with new knowledge. He is an example of our souls' need for constant searching, seeking, for growth and knowledge. My son, face your people and tell them what you have returned with."

Araeo placed his hands over his throat, facing the centaurs. "My kindred, I went to seek keen judgement. I have returned with insight into future choice, with which I will guide our community."

There was a deep moment of silence, and then the centaurs placed their hands over there throats in approval.

Araeo turned to Harry, hands over his heart. "My heart and bulwark, with this insight I will guide our works."

Grinning, Harry put his hands over his heart.

Araeo turned to his mother, hands over his chin. "Leader Nayla, honored mother. With this insight, I will guide our family."

Nayla placed her hands over her chin. "Your knowledge is worthy. Welcome home, my son."

A cheer went up, and all of the sudden there was music and food and dancing, and people wanted to talk to Araeo and also Harry, and they gave the day to celebration.

small blue sprout

"Basilisk! Basilisk?"

"Snakeheart!"

At the sound of the basilisk's voice, something settled in Harry's heart. He ran the rest of the way through the hall, crashing into the basilisk's nose as it moved swiftly towards him.

"You're okay," Harry gasped. "You're okay. I was so worried."

"You feared for me?" the basilisk asked. "Why?"

"I had a vision." Harry ran his hands over the basilisk's scales, knocking his forehead against its snout. "I saw you falling to a curse."

"As if I could fall to a wizard's spell ," said the basilisk derisively. "Prophecy. So often … flighty. Easily misread."

"I know," Harry said. "Araeo told me. But I couldn't help it. How have you been?"

"Well," said the basilisk, pleased. "Quite well. I have made friends with your elf."

"With Limmy?" Harry asked, baffled. "How can you talk to her?"

The basilisk flicked its tongue towards Sal's room. "We make do. She has taken to coming here to practice wandwork. She brings me food. I have changed my mind regarding cooked meat, Snakeheart."

"That's great," Harry said distractedly, going over to Sal's room. Sure enough, open on the desk were all the notes he'd take on classes he attended, and spell books from the free book room, and even some of Salazar's books. "Wow."

"She is quite adept," said the basilisk. "I think. Watching becomes a problem, you know."

"That's great," Harry said, warmth blooming in his chest. "That's really great."

"Many months are not so long to me," said the basilisk. "But to you they are significant. Come and tell me of your travels."

"Yes, alright," Harry said. "I have things to put away, too. Gifts." They headed into the den, where Harry stopped dead.

"What is wrong?"

"It's just … I'd almost forgotten. Not forgotten, but, you know …" He walked over to the green curse over the eggs and put his hand on it. Once upon a time it had hurt to touch. Now it was just … simmering. Malevolent. How he hated it.

Harry turned away. They would be free. He would do it. All he needed was time.