A HENRY STORY 2: Trials Of The Fallen Prince

XI. Sisyphean

Despite his efforts to tread silently, the irksome sounds of Henry's footsteps reverberated in his head. His torch's dim glow provided just enough light for him to avoid obstacles as he traversed the narrow tunnel where Kismet had disappeared. Nonetheless, he refused to be deterred.

You're committing to something without comprehending the extent of it, Thanatos spoke in his head. For all we know, you will walk right into a trap!

With a scowl, Henry pressed his lips together. The flier displayed a complete lack of understanding of his issue, especially considering how willingly he had agreed to come here. Henry hadn't expected so much resistance from him, to the point where a heated argument had ensued between them once Kismet had disappeared.

Why could Thanatos not understand how much he needed this? That he would just go back to being miserable if he didn't grasp this—what felt more and more like a final shot at . . . redemption? He didn't understand, and Henry didn't know how else he could convey the jumbled mess of emotions in his head.

Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks. The tunnel came to an end at this point, revealing a sheer wall directly in front of him. "Kismet?"

But he received no reply. All he heard was the echo of his own voice; it reverberated through the ancient stone eerily. Henry groaned. "Show yourself!" he cried. "I know that you are here!"

There was still no reply. Henry opened his mouth again when his gaze found his torch. An odd hunch struck him, and with a swift motion, he extinguished the light. For a moment, Henry stood there in unbroken darkness, then he turned slowly. He saw nothing, and he heard nothing either. But . . .

"Show yourself," he said after a brief pause. "You know, I can see you."

"How can you see in the dark?"

"Ha!" exclaimed Henry, whipping around and pointing in the direction of the voice. "I was bluffing. And you fell for it. So, I win!"

There was a pause that sounded almost baffled. Then Kismet slowly began clapping. "Fine," she said. "You've sufficiently proven your cunning. Now skedaddle."

"Oh!" Henry, who had already moved his hand up to reignite his torch, lowered it again. "But my bluff wasn't a lie," he said, setting the torch down as he was struck with another idea. "I can see in the dark."

"No human can see in the dark."

"But I can." Ripred's interest and flash of recognition when he had told him about his using echolocation appeared before Henry's inner eye, and . . . well, he was here to learn a more advanced form of it. At least he should demonstrate to her that he already had the basics down. "Watch."

Henry stood upright again and snapped his fingers.

Click.

Immediately, he whipped around toward where Kismet's hunched-over shape illuminated. With remarkable stealth, she had relocated herself from the spot where her voice had originated, catching him off guard.

Click. Click.

"What is this supposed to be?" He snapped his fingers repeatedly and turned, tracing her movements with a pointed finger as she slowly crept around him.

"Fine." Henry flinched and snapped his fingers instinctively when she came to a halt directly in front of him. "I suppose I have to give Ripred this much; he did not just send me anyone. When did you pass the first threshold? Don't tell me it was Ripred who taught you."

"Some half a year ago. And hell no!" Henry shook his head. "It was Thanatos' idea . . . my flier."

Kismet's only reply was a more or less approving grunt, and Henry groaned. "I have capped this skill out in the conventional sense." He snapped his fingers and flinched again when he found that Kismet had moved away. "But it is not enough. Not for me, who cannot make a sound consistently and smoothly so that it would be of any use in battle."