A HENRY STORY 3: Covenants Of The Fallen Prince

XXV. Condemnation

The flat pebble collided with the Spout's smooth surface, creating a sequence of ripples with each impact—once, twice, three times before sinking. Henry let out a sigh and reached for another pebble.

"What was that, three? That's child's play; I got six once."

Without turning, Henry grinned, having sensed Ripred this time before he had spoken. "Look who's made it." Henry brandished his new pebble. "Six, you say? Then prove it."

"With pleasure," said Ripred, slipping out of the shadow of a nearby tunnel entrance. "Where's that flier of yours?"

"Patrolling." Henry tossed Ripred the pebble. "For guards . . . or rats."

Ripred caught it skillfully, then his ears twitched, and he sat on his haunches. Henry immediately focused his perception and made out the faint fluttering of wings—two pairs.

"Over here!" he called out to Ares and Aurora, watching them catch three figures dropping from a hidden opening in the ceiling, directly above the Spout. Shortly thereafter, the fliers descended onto the beach, touching down in front of Henry and Ripred. "I am glad you received my message." He greeted them. "Yet I'm afraid the things we must discuss are dire."

Henry frowned, observing that the gravity on Luxa's and Aurora's faces differed from the kind that he had expected. Luxa's hair was only loosely tied, and she wore a heavy cloak around her narrow shoulders, as though she didn't have enough time to get dressed properly. However, the most worrying observation he made was that she wasn't looking at him; instead, her eyes, surrounded by purple rings, deliberately stared past him. The concern on Gregor's and Ares' faces mirrored each other's; only Howard, seated behind Gregor, maintained his usual demeanor. Yet, like everyone else, he seemed to have been deprived of proper rest for days.

"How fare you?" asked Henry, creasing his brow. "Did something happen after your return?"

Gregor opened his mouth, then closed it again before sliding off Ares' back. Howard followed him, and one moment of tense silence passed before Gregor finally spoke. "We got your message," he said. "It's just—"

"This tunnel," Luxa cut in, making everyone jump. Ever so slowly, she mounted down, still without meeting Henry's gaze. "Know you who discovered it? Showed it to me?"

Her words took a moment to register, but when they did, a terrible realization hit Henry like a blow to the face. His eye widened as he instinctively looked for the hidden entrance, barely managing to hold his ground.

"It was . . . our secret," whispered Luxa. "Know you whom I mean?"

Henry saw neither Howard's raised brow, nor Gregor's pained scowl, nor Ares' lowered eyes. He paid no mind to Ripred, likely in the process of piecing it all together. He only saw Luxa and the emptiness in her face . . . and struggled with all his might against the impending raw panic.

"His name was Henry," said Luxa when he did not reply. She visibly struggled with saying the name—his name—so much that it stabbed like a knife into his heart. "Know you where he is now?"

Responding—confirming—sealing his own fate—hurt almost as much. "I do," said Henry anyway.

"Oh?" It was only then that Luxa finally met his gaze. "He is dead."

The silence that followed was overwhelming, squeezing the breath from Henry's lungs. He feared he might faint until a sudden, loud snort made everyone flinch. Another soon followed it, and then the cave filled with howling laughter that echoed eerily from the lake and the stone.

Henry whipped around, seeing that Ripred had dropped on his back, extending his limbs outward, and shaking with laughter. "Oh! Oh no!" He wheezed. "Oh, lad! You don't even need me to spill your secret, do you? Did you really just do that? Just like so?"