Chapter 1: Denial
Borne up by the mighty Ares, the young Queen was bound for Regalia and healing. With the son of York to tend her, and the Overlander guarding her, all could hope for her safety and recovery. And with hundreds of nibbler survivors now safe from pursuit, their mission was a success.
But for Rhea, and many other bereaved fliers, this victory still felt like defeat.
She huddled with Crius and Epimetheus, her brothers in sorrow. Gaia suffered the same loss, but she lay nearby having fallen into a fitful sleep after wailing inconsolably.
How? How could all of their bonds have fallen in a single hour? All four children of Lenwen and Neria, taking a stand for the sake of mice they never met, and dying for it?
Before the battle, when the army flew through the Firelands searching for Queen Luxa, dear sweet Cleft had said he'd rather fight on the ground than let nibbler refugees face gnawers. The very thought had torn so badly at Rhea's heart that she shamed herself, insisting that the nibblers weren't worth spending human lives. Kleave had put her in her place, stating that Luxa had declared war on the nibblers' behalf, and they must all be prepared to defend them. Chastised, Rhea had said she would obey the orders of the young Queen.
She should not have.
Fragile bodies, standing in a line, facing a sea of monsters. Abandoning the advantage of flight to form a wall between the rats and the mice. And dying for it.
Three brothers and their older sister. Two of them fighting their very first battle.
All were dead. And all of their bonds were still alive…
No… it can't be true!
There was no hope for Crius and Epimetheus, for both of their bonds were devoured during the battle. But Riven, and especially Rhea's dear Cleft, might yet be alive. Both lay, relatively intact, in the blood and ash when the army fled the battlefield. Riven had suffered deep wounds to her chest, and her chances were very poor. But Cleft… He had managed to keep fighting for a time after being wounded. When his strength gave out, and he at last lay still… it may have only been exhaustion. He might yet live!
Governor York and Ripred were giving orders, organizing a system for airlifting the nibblers to Regalia. Less than a thousand mice still lived, but that was still far too many for bats to carry in a single trip. Especially with the war underway, and fliers needed elsewhere.
"Nibblers!" York shouted, his powerful voice carrying over the roar of the stream and the weeping of the bereaved. "Though many lives were spent for you today, we do not hold our duty to you fulfilled. We will continue to defend you, and labor for you, until all are safe behind our walls!"
Many mouse voices rose in gratitude, though few in genuine joy. They lost more than a thousand lives before York and Perdita brought armies to defend them.
York continued, his voice grave. "Many human soldiers, and some brave fliers, fell in the battle. The bats who have lost their bonds deserve time to mourn, but we cannot spare such time. They will carry you the long miles from here to Regalia. They will start with the pups, and any who through illness or injury require medical care beyond what my surgeons can provide here. Soldiers who lost their fliers will remain here with you, providing support and protection for those awaiting transport. All fliers whose bonds are still strong enough to fight must return to the war."
Rhea's heart hurt. Cleft might still be alive, he must still be alive, and they were going to make her act as a shuttle for mice? Hadn't they done enough for them already?
Giving a final, comforting squeeze to Crius and Epimetheus, Rhea broke away from the huddle. She crawled past Gaia, who twitched and squeaked in her sleep, and squeezed through the crowding mice to reach Poseidon. The flier commander was bonded to Marian, who had dismounted to address some of her soldiers.
"Commander!" Rhea gasped, "We need to go back for any survivors!"
Poseidon turned to her, confusion plain on his brown face. "Survivors? We brought our wounded with us."
"We brought those we knew still had light," Rhea said, her voice getting frantic. "But others might yet live! My bond, Cleft, fell from weariness and blood loss, but he might be alive!"
The big commander turned toward the tunnel on the far side of the stream. Choking black smoke still spilled from it, and would likely continue to do so for some time.
When he turned back to Rhea, there was such sympathy and pity in his voice it threatened to break her hope. "Dear Rhea, many of our people lost their precious humans this day. We fliers paid the ultimate price in this battle. But we must accept our losses, grieve for them, and carry on in the work they would have done… had they survived."
"But… but some may still live!" Her desperation brought tears back to her eyes, and her voice quivered. "The burning tunnel is inaccessible, but the Queen arrived in this chamber through a tunnel only fliers can use! Let me take a team back to the battleground via that route!"
"It is a needless risk," Poseidon said softly. "There can be no humans still living back there."
Rhea couldn't allow herself to think about why that might be. All she had was the conviction that Cleft still lived. The spindly boy, youngest and by far weakest of his siblings, but so gentle, so kind, so loyal. The least suited to a soldier's life, except in courage and selflessness. He was the most willing to stand in defense of the mice. It was he who first recognized that the nibblers had lost most of their brave youths by the time the army arrived. Slim, fragile for a boy his age, and untested in battle, he nonetheless stood and fought, even with grievous wounds. After collapsing to the filthy ground, but before he fell still and silent, Rhea had seen him speaking to a terrified nibbler pup.
He could not be dead! Rhea would find him!
Then Poseidon spoke words that he clearly wished he didn't have to. Words that he regretted... and that crushed Rhea's heart to dust. "The rats in the chamber we left… they'll be feeding by now."
For a time Rhea staggered about, dizzy, lost, witless and directionless. She hobbled awkwardly through the crowds, heedless of jostling mice or human words. Her mind could not face the horror of what Poseidon said, but she could not think of anything else…
So she did not think at all.
Perdita and Aether flew off with most of the bats whose humans still lived, intending to scout and skirmish and disrupt gnawer movements throughout the Underland. Rhea barely noticed their departure.
Ripred dispatched some of the grieving humans whose fliers fell in battle to guard the nearby tunnels. Other bereaved soldiers assisted Doctor Twillen and the combat medics in assessing the wounded and determining who needed to be sent to Regalia first. Again, Rhea's mind didn't really process their efforts.
I save you as I save my life…
At last, Rhea came back to the present when Poseidon and York ordered the fliers without healthy bonds to gather. Rhea took position among the other grieving bats, but her mind was again in turmoil. She could not bring herself to imagine the murderous rats feeding on the dead. She could only think of the last time she saw her young bond. Bloody, silent, still, but intact . If the blasting fire had killed enough rats, or if the Bane ordered his army to abandon the Firelands for some other mission…
York's voice, stern and hard to disguise his pain, cut through Rhea's thoughts. "My Lieutenant, Marian, will accompany the first wave of evacuees to Regalia. Her bond, Poseidon, will take command of the arena, which will temporarily house the refugees. Perdita's Lieutenant, Lenwen, has accepted command of the airlift. This endeavor will take days, but with every trip, more nibblers will reach safety, while more food can be brought here for those that still await transport. While I will personally command the troops defending the nibblers here, I now defer to Lenwen."
Rhea's ragged heart, and her tattered hopes, frayed still further when she saw Lenwen's face and heard his voice. As he issued orders, organizing the bats and assigning them passengers, he was empty and passionless, a machine serving a function but unable to feel. Nothing suggested that he shared Rhea's hope. He clearly believed his children were all dead, with no expectation of rescuing his youngest son.
Still unable to accept reality, but losing the strength of will to actively fight it, Rhea numbly accepted her orders. Most of the bats would carry no food, only a little water for the long flight. With Regalia as their destination, it was deemed wiser to conserve the meager food supplies for the many that must wait in the Firelands. The bereaved bats would eat and briefly sleep in the safety of Regalia before hurrying back for more refugees. She obediently drank from the river, mechanically ate a fish without really tasting it, followed a soldier to where her passengers waited.
Soon, she was loaded up with many nibbler pups, who clung to her, quivering but silent. One wounded adult nibbler was with them, to keep them calm and make sure none fell off. The thought briefly brought Rhea back to reality. With Cleft, it was easy to keep her passenger from falling. He was light, and agile, and if he did start to slip she could easily shift her angle of flight. But with all these confused pups piled onto her, none of whom had ever ridden a flier, she would have to keep her flight stable and smooth on the long road to Regalia.
She recognized the last little mouse placed on her back, near her right ear. With black fur and a twitching nose, he was the pup at Cleft's side shortly before the boy lost consciousness.
The nibbler adult on her back declared that was all for this trip. Rhea could lift off at any time.
But she didn't. Not yet.
An oppressive weight seemed to hold her down. She didn't want to move her wings.
I save you as I save my life.
If she did this, if she took to the sky, bound for Regalia carrying all these pups, it would be to abandon Cleft. If her bond still lived, wounded and unconscious and helpless in the midst of many dead, this decision would be the end of him. If she didn't return for him, no one would. He would waste away, succumbing to thirst or blood loss or–
"The rats will be feeding by now."
Poseidon's earlier words stabbed at her, dousing her fiery hope with icy emptiness.
Barely even feeling as her wings beat, Rhea took to the air…
…bound not for the recent battlefield… but for Regalia.
Newton shivered, and when he coughed, gray dust puffed in every direction. His parents and sisters weren't on this bat. He still hadn't found them since the fighting at the little stream. They must still be lost. If all the nibblers would eventually be brought to the arena, he'd finally find his family. The other pups and the elder were all but strangers to him. He clung to the tan fur of the bat, trying to take comfort in her soft warmth. But it was terrifying to be soaring through the air. Not as terrifying as running behind a line of humans, who acted as his only shield against howling gnawers. But close.
It got even scarier as their journey took them farther from the Firelands, and darkness closed in. Though all in the Underland knew the dark, Newton was born in the jungle, where there was always at least a little light. Marching through Hades Hall was his first time facing total darkness. Now, he faced it again, as air rushed by and his imprecise echolocation warned him that he was high in the air, among many other bats.
Weeks of fear and upheaval, weariness and hardship. He was too young for any of it to make sense.
But, there was one thing little Newton was sure of.
The bat beneath him was not happy. Not even a little bit.
She was almost sad. But not quite. As if she should be sad, but was too scared to be.
This bat fought in a battle. She now had no human with her. She must be very tired. And yet she was carrying him, and many other pups, to a place where they'd be safe.
Newton squirmed forward, getting even closer to her big, soft ears. "Thank you," he squeaked.
He understood some English, but he couldn't make the words yet. Fortunately, the bat understood his nibbler words. "You are… welcome…"
Curling up on the bat's neck, he said, "You… have bond?"
"I… I did… His name is… was… Cleft."
"What he like?"
"He was… kind."
They flew in silence for a time. Newton only ever knew two humans. Queen Luxa in the jungle was tough, and smart, and friendly to nibblers. And the boy soldier, lying in the bloody ash, cared more about Newton than himself.
"I saw," the bat's words were now less scared. Less tense. More sad. "I saw you… with Cleft. When he was too weak to stand. He spoke to you?"
"That boy... Cleft?" Newton sat up shakily.
"Yes. That was my bond. What… what did he say to you?"
She didn't sound like she actually wanted his answer… but maybe she needed it.
"Live. He want… me live."
A faint shudder went through the bat.
Talking was still such a new thing for Newton. But he made himself say just one more thing. "Cleft… friend."
Though their flight path stayed steady, though the bat stayed in formation with many others, she wept softly.
Newton wished he was big enough to hug her. The best he could do was wriggle a little further forward, and hug her big, soft ear.