Chapter 3: Bargaining

Wings weary, lungs burning, Crius drove himself ever onward. After delivering seven pups and two grievously wounded nibbler youths, Crius allowed himself only a quick meal and three hours of sleep. Now, he again flew through the Firelands, en route to the many refugees still awaiting rescue. On his flight to Regalia, he traveled in formation with many other bats. But now, only Chthonius was with him. The fliers had been ordered to sleep six hours. Crius and Chthonius refused to wait.

Crius was far wearier though. Chthonius was much larger and stronger, and yesterday he carried only the Queen's bond, Aurora. And Chthonius would likely be ordered to remain in the Firelands, to be available for his bond, York, who commanded the defense of the refugees. Crius planned to immediately pick up more refugees and head right back to Regalia.

They passed a pair of flying sentries from Solovet's division. When the first wave of the airlift reached Regalia, Solovet sent fifty fliers and their bonds to bolster the defenses in the Firelands. Crius came upon a narrow opening guarded by three humans on foot, who likely lost their bonds in the most recent battle. Heart aching, he entered the final chamber with Chthonius close behind.

Part of Crius hoped he would see dear Trent among the humans on the ground. But he knew he would not. Despite his youthful, fiercely-trained strength and power, the young man had been overcome, hauled into the mob, and savaged by many. His death had been horrific… but relatively quick. When a dozen gnawers all feed as one…

Rage washed over him in a wave, but then faded. Such feelings couldn't help Trent.

If only I'd gotten to him first…

Crius saw the moment so clearly. His bond fighting alongside his older sister Riven, helping her defend their fallen little brother. A huge black rat lunging, turning its head sideways to sink its terrible teeth into Trent's body. Blood gushing from his chest and back. The gnawer turning to rush away from the line, carrying Trent through the surging mob of rats.

If I had been in position, if I had been faster, I could have dived for Trent. A feint to the rat's face might have caused it to let go. Crius could have snatched Trent away from it and carried him to the surgeons. His wounds had been terrible, very near the heart, but maybe, maybe, he could have been saved.

Instead, Trent had struck out one final time, many rats sank in their teeth, and Trent was torn to quivering rags.

Agony seized Crius, and he landed in an awkward roll. Fortunately, the many baskets of food and medical supplies he carried were secured well, and didn't spill. Lying by the stream, he forced himself to drink his fill. A nibbler dropped a fish next to him, whispered, "Thank you," and shuffled away. Crius ate the fish, trying not to think of the rats eating Trent.

So strong. Trent had trained so hard. His older sister had been faster, and more skilled, but Trent had been far harder and stronger. Such dedication should have made a difference. He should have survived. If the rat's lunge had been a little slower, if Trent had returned to his guard stance a little faster after his previous swing, if he'd sidestepped… or if Crius had attacked the rat from above…

"You're back early," Lenwen said, approaching. The bereaved father looked somewhat less empty and emotionless than yesterday. Organizing and assisting all these refugees did him some good.

"Yes," Crius said, trying to get his breathing under control. "Chthonius and I could not let ourselves sleep as long as the rest. We must return to duty."

"It's safer to fly in large convoys," Lenwen said softly. "I commend your dedication, both of you. But if you are carrying refugees, it would not be safe to–"

Crius and Chthonius abruptly turned toward the tunnel they entered through. Crius allowed York's bond to share the news. "Apparently, we two were not alone in our decision. Ares has brought many more."

Thirty bats entered the chamber, with the Warrior's bond at their head. All carried baskets of provisions.

"Is this enough for a convoy?" Crius tried to hide the desperation in his voice. He could not bear the thought of waiting idle for more to join them.

"If I send a few mounted soldiers to escort you," Lenwen said. He then raised his voice. "I am grateful to you all for your dedication. Many are suffering, and it will be a great mercy for them to reach Regalia hours ahead of schedule."

Many mouse voices rose in agreement. An older mouse with a missing eye and three pups on her back approached to bow at Crius' feet. The elder Turing thanked Chthonius for bringing Luxa's bond to regalia. But most of the attention went to Ares. For just a moment, Crius resented that. Nearly all of the bats facilitating the airlift lost their bonds, yet the mice showered most of their praise on one whose human still lived?

Then… he remembered.

Ares' bond was still alive… but not for much longer. Thousands more would surely die in this war, but the only person guaranteed to die… was Gregor.

Crius couldn't think about that. His pain wasn't in the future, it was right now . And he could only endure it by staying active.

Lenwen gave orders. The bats of the airlift were required to rest one hour before setting out again. Part of Crius resented that. He wanted to move. To act. To beat back the guilt and sorrow of losing his bond.

But his battered body and weary mind gave in. Within seconds of closing his eyes, he slipped into fitful dreams.

He saw Trent, even taller and stronger than in reality, standing alone against an army. Surrounded by a thousand rats, but utterly fearless, the young man battled with the strength of York and the skill of Perdita. But the howling mob pressed in, slashing and biting. Despite killing dozens, Trent's wounds multiplied. Crius needed to carry him away, to rescue him… but his wings could barely move. Trent lost a hand, and in desperation, Crius forced his body to move. But before he reached his bond, he struck a vast spinner web. From barely a yard away, he watched his bond die yet again.

Gentle hands shook him awake. Crius felt his weariness and sore muscles more than ever. But he must push himself. He must work harder than ever before in his life. If he could do that, if he could drive himself to greatness and make a real difference in this war… maybe things would change. Maybe he'd wake one day and discover he'd been wrong.

Maybe… Trent would still be alive.

Maybe he'd learn he'd rescued his bond after all…

The one-eyed mouse from earlier was at his side. She had more pups than before. Three were still on her back, but seven more gathered around her. "I requested you specifically. You were one of the two who returned to us first, and Chthonius must remain here with York."

Forcing a smile for the nibbler's sake, Crius flattened himself out on the stone to make it easier for the pups to crawl aboard. "I am honored. My name is Crius. Until all of your people are safe in Regalia, I will take no rest beyond what my superiors demand."

With the help of two younger adults, the mouse gathered the pups into a cozy pile, then lay behind them. Crius looked over his shoulder, and was startled to see all the pups begin nursing. Then the order was given, and he took to the air.

Six soldiers on bats would escort the small convoy, two in front, two at the rear, and two below. Ares flew in the center of the formation. By far the largest of the fliers in this group, he carried no pups. Instead, eight wounded adults huddled on his back. Crius fell in right behind him.

Adorable snuffling noises led Crius to take another look at his passengers. A maneuver had shifted three pups out of position, but now they returned to nursing like the others.

"My name is Hypatia," the old mouse said. "I again thank you for your dedication. We are exhausted from our ordeal. Getting to Regalia sooner will be a gift."

"I am surprised you can care for so many pups at once. I thought nibbler families were typically smaller."

"Few nibblers my age can still nurse pups, but I could not have carried a litter of ten. Only four of these are mine. With my mate's demise, I shall bear no others. The other six… I have taken them in. Their parents were part of a group taken from our holding pen the day before Luxa rescued us. From her account… we should not expect them."

Yet again, the scale of recent events crushed down upon Crius. His own personal loss was already too much to bear. Hundreds of other fliers losing their bonds as well exceeded his ability to grapple with. He simply couldn't let himself dwell on the tragedy of the nibblers. He would pour himself into helping them, but he must not think about the reasons why they all needed that help.

If only he worked hard enough. If he pushed past his limits, and strove to surpass even Ares… maybe…

…he'd get Trent back…

Hypatia struggled to stay awake. At her age, nursing ten pups wore her down. Throughout the entire ordeal in the Firelands, nibbler youths and many fathers gave her a portion of their meager food and water. But that merely made her duty possible. It did not make it easy. Her four pups no longer had a father, and the other six had lost both their parents. As an elder who trained many new mothers in caring for their first litter, she felt it her duty to feed as many orphans as her body could support. She may well be left diminished and feeble by the time they were weaned… but that was an acceptable price to pay. So many others died for the sake of the nibbler nation. She could continue to instruct young parents, even if her vitality was depleted and she weakened beyond her years.

The flier Crius seemed impatient. Even matching the speed of the mighty Ares didn't seem enough for him. All of these bats struggled to keep up with the legendary black bat, who survived the plague despite being the first patient, and who could slay gnawers unaided. But Crius was frustrated that they aren't moving even faster.

Such drive. Such dedication. If it is for the love of my people, and the desire to ease our suffering, he is noble indeed. But she feared there might be an unhealthy edge to it. Like most of the fliers carrying the refugees to safety, this one lost his bond in the bloody battle on the ground. She suspected part of his drive was tied to that loss. That could be good and healthy. But perhaps not.

The pups finally finished nursing, and they cuddled up against her in a messy, cozy heap. Soon, little snores warmed her heart. She wanted to sleep too, but she didn't dare. It would be her duty to stop the precious creatures from rolling off the bat.

The horrible thought led her mind down dark paths. Soon, she thought of the many times that a young nibbler parent miscarried, or lost a pup to illness or a bold twister raid. Grief could affect the bereaved in many ways. Some refused to face reality. Some grew furious and vengeful. Some fell into deep mourning, trapped in a miserable present and unable to face the future. And some became caught in a spiral of irrational thoughts and self-destructive overexertion. As if, somehow, as the guilty might work to find atonement, they could by great labor undo the tragedy.

Partly to keep herself from drifting off and endangering the pups, and partly in hopes of bringing some comfort to the hero bearing them to safety, Hypatia spoke. "Tell me about your bond."

The bat managed to grow even more tense than before. His white fur, still sullied by ash that he never took the time to wash off, prickled. But Hypatia remained quiet, not pressuring him. Gradually, Crius mastered himself, and at last he answered. "Trent… was dedicated. Utterly. He trained as hard as his cousin Marcus, who is a handpicked elite of the Ironheart. When not on assignment, Trent pushed his body for ten or more hours a day, until he seemed to me more steel than flesh. And it was all… so he could serve. "

Hypatia wished she could have known the young man.

Crius continued, his voice strained. "He should have survived. For all the danger and loss of a battle on the ground, he deserved to survive. He was so strong… so resilient… But…" His voice cracked. "I wasn't there for him."

Hypatia waited patiently for the flier to recover. When he spoke again, he sounded so weary. "He fought on the ground, and I from the air. I foolishly believed I could only aid him by harassing gnawers near the front. But if I had instead watched him, ever ready, prepared to rescue him if his defense faltered…"

Tension in the bat's neck disturbed the sleep of little Pi. Unable to easily reach the pup due to the warm snoring pile, she gently stroked Pi's back with her tail. As she did so, her mind and words focussed on Crius. "After you left yesterday, at the beginning of the airlift, we in the Firelands had little to do but wait. We spoke with the bats and humans that remained with us, including Governor York. He reported that not even one human soldier withdrew from the fighting before the order to retreat." Pi fell asleep again, and Hypatia now used her tail to gently stroke the flier's ear. "Trent died, not because you failed to rescue him, but because your entire army devoted themselves utterly to the defense of my people. I heard Luxa's order, and you all obeyed. You protected us nibblers at all costs. Trent did not retreat, and you did not rescue him. But it was not weakness. It was not foolishness, nor disloyalty."

For a time, they flew in silence, and the tension in Crius gradually lessened, though it did not vanish entirely. She faintly heard soft words in the darkness, though she could not make them out clearly. She hoped that many of her fellow nibblers were showing adequate gratitude to their rescuers, who sacrificed so much for them, and still could not rest.

Crius deserved more credit than he believed. And he needed to cast guilt aside. Hypatia pondered, as the tiny pups wriggled and snored. "You said that Trent was mighty. That he earned his strength through great labor and struggle. And this was that he might… serve?"

Crius spoke softly, his voice less strained. "Many devote themselves to training out of fear. They know that their speed and strength might decide whether they survive a battle. But for Trent, he thought mostly of others. With a sister and two younger brothers, he felt a duty to defend them. And on missions, he spoke mostly of keeping his squad safe. For him, strength, speed, and skill meant he could defend others."

"And that is exactly what he did."

The bat's words came in the faintest whisper. "For his service… for his dedication… he deserved to live . He should have lived."

"You speak the truth. He should have. He deserved to. All of those humans deserved to. Every last man and woman forming that line was a hero, making a choice on par with the Warrior. Every one of them was worthy, and good. I wish I could have known them all."

The faintest sound of soft weeping reached her ears. She felt her own tears coming on, and she made no attempt to hold them back. "They… did not survive. They were good, and deserved more time. But because they spent themselves… my entire race still lives. Every pup on your back. Every other in this convoy. The hundreds already in Regalia, and those waiting in the Firelands. We would all be dead. Instead… Trent and many others… gave us their time. Thank you."

Gently, she shifted the heap of pups so she could wriggle a little closer to the bat's ears. "No matter how hard you try… or how much you accomplish… your beloved bond will sleep on. You cannot bring him back." The weeping grew less soft, but the last of the flier's tension finally faded away. "But if Trent knew of your efforts, if he knew how fully you have thrown yourself into helping us… he would be so proud. If he devoted ten hours a day to painful training, all so he could serve, then you honor him by serving those he died for."

Listening closely, Hypatia detected signs of many other bats grieving, and most of the mice had fallen silent. Clearly, she was not the only nibbler showing her gratitude in this way.

In the near silence, Ares and several others perked up. Then Hypatia's sharp nose detected a scent that brought a surge of fear. "Rats!" she shouted. "Up ahead!"

Ares squeaked out a quick command in the flier language, much of which Hypatia could barely hear. The vanguard whirled in a tight spiral, while most of the convoy climbed toward the top of the tunnel. Pups squealed in terror, waking suddenly from the abrupt movement. Hypatia's echolocation detected many large shapes springing from two side tunnels. In full evasion mode, the many bats of the convoy and escort dodged the initial attempts to tackle them out of the air. Hypatia feared that sharp turns might toss pups from their fliers, but simply ascending was enough for now.

"All with pups, fly on!" Ares shouted. Then, he warned his passengers to hold on tight… and he dived.

Rats sprang into the air, reaching for the bats, but Ares spoiled their plans. Despite already bearing the weight of eight adult nibblers, the vast black flier caught a rat in his claws and held on. He swerved left and right, smashing the screaming rat into other gnawers. Soon, the rat in his claws was silent and limp, and many others lay strewn about, battered and winded. Soldiers of the escort force struck, finishing off the fallen gnawers before they could recover.

And through it all, Crius did his duty. Staying as close to the ceiling as possible, he and the rest of the convoy sped on, putting the battle behind them.

"Thank you yet again," Hypatia said, heart pounding. "Trent would be proud."

"I know he would," Crius said softly. His ears twitched, swiveling toward the rear. "Ares reports victory. One soldier has a wounded arm, but all survived. They are hastening to rejoin us."

"When this war is over, my people shall be forever in the debt of fliers," Hypatia said, comforting the shivering, squealing pups.

"Eternal friendship between our peoples will be payment enough," Crius said. "Our bonds believed you were worth dying for. For them, we will give all we have to uphold their choice."