A HENRY STORY 2: Trials Of The Fallen Prince

XLI. Shades of Gray

Following Thanatos' tale, a heavy silence fell over the group. Gregor stared at the bat, mouth agape, utterly lost on what to say.

"This must be a trap." Luxa was the first to break the silence. "A deception, a ploy to—"

"To what end?" asked the Death Rider. "Longclaw is not done with us. He is deliberately separating us to hinder any chance of escape. Why would he take such a risk?"

There was no reply. After a brief pause, Gregor looked from Ares back to Thanatos. "Did she . . . actually do that?"

"Yes, but ask me not why," replied Thanatos. "She said not one word."

Gregor gazed down at the floor, confusion washing over him. None of it made any sense—not Dalia's betrayal and not her suddenly saving the bats. He did his best to push back the surge of hope that was building inside him because of this, along with thoughts such as, what if she had been coerced into betraying them? What if she'd had no choice? But he couldn't afford thoughts like that yet.

Gregor blew out a frustrated breath, recalling Dalia standing by the wall as he switched on his flashlight. His jaw clenched. Whatever her reasons were, she had a lot of explaining to do . . . if they ever saw her again.

It didn't make sense. Gregor pulled his legs up; Dalia had betrayed them, and yet the thought of never seeing her again still hurt. Was it because he wanted her to explain herself . . . or because he still cared about her, despite everything?

"Even if it was meant to be a trap, I cannot see how it may backfire on us," said the Death Rider into Gregor's swarming thoughts. "She killed the guards?"

"One guard," amended Thanatos. "It was one, and he was very drunk. She slit his throat, although I have no clue how she acquired the dagger. She stood there for one moment, and then she turned and ran."

"Do you . . . think she had second thoughts?" Gregor twitched at the array of hostile gazes his question earned him, not only from Stellovet but also from Howard, Luxa, and Aurora.

"Traitors are traitors," hissed Luxa.

"I concur," said Stellovet icily. "I care not if she has regrets. Her traitorous action landed us here in the first place."

Gregor attempted not to shrink a few inches under their accusing stares and instinctively raised his hands to signal that he hadn't meant any offense. Yet when he looked at the Death Rider, he was surprised to not find any traces of hostility in it—quite the opposite. He looked at them almost somberly.

"In any case, now that our fliers have returned, let us depart," announced Howard, getting to his feet.

"Indeed," concurred the Death Rider, following his example. "That is . . ." He looked the questers over. "You must take the children as well as Hera and her pups back to the Fount, and Death and I must deal with Longclaw."

His announcement was followed by a wave of heavy protests. "That is not fair!" complained Luxa with her hands on her hips, and suddenly Gregor felt the urge to stand up and slap her. Why couldn't she, for once, be sensible and leave before things escalated further? A cold shiver ran down Gregor's spine as he pictured the arena, filled with rats. This entire quest shouldn't even be happening; they had already deduced that it had all been a scheme devised by Dalia and her rat allies to lure them here and ensure their demise. How could Luxa still insist on staying?

"Once you complained that I dragged your family into my feud," the Death Rider shot back. "Now you complain that I am doing my best to keep your involvement in it minimal?"

Luxa stared up at the more-than-a-head-taller outcast defiantly, but to Gregor's surprise, Aurora by her side spoke first. "He speaks the truth," said the golden bat. "You came here to save your family. This goal is on the cusp of being accomplished. Let not your pride remain the last obstacle in its way."