Despite how Teslas had given him the day off, Henry went back to his workshop not long after to begin working on an extinguisher formula.

He went to sleep early, so as to not linger on the odd thoughts about the Death Rider that Thanatos' questions had arisen, and the next day, for the first time in what felt like forever, Thanatos did not fetch him for their echolocation lesson. When he went looking for him, he instead ran into Lovelace.

"Come join us for breakfast," she greeted him. "If you're looking for Thanatos, he is already there."

Despite wondering if she had an ulterior motive to ask, Henry quickly joined her, Thanatos, and a few others in the dining room. And maybe ten minutes into the meal, Henry found out that his suspicion had been justified. Having breakfast hadn't been the primary reason Lovelace had summoned him.

"However would I be of any use accompanying a trading party?" he exclaimed when the colony leader explained what she wanted of him. Henry made a face; he had looked forward to spending a quiet, normal day with Teslas, working on their extinguisher, and maybe a few other things, and now . . . "I mean, won't I just be in the way? I cannot help carrying anything. On the contrary, I will have to be carried."

"You will be of use because you are the best warrior currently living in this colony," Lovelace replied. "The party may need you for that purpose."

She explained that this particular crawler colony the nibblers supplied was located east of the jungle, a little beyond the dimensions of most maps. It was usually quite peaceful, but recently, they had been threatened by a flock of overly ambitious cutters who had their territory further east and apparently sought to expand it. So, the crawlers were constantly at risk of an attack.

"Despite the imminent danger, we cannot stop supplying them," Lovelace said somberly. "They rely on us. The cutters have recently cut them off from the last river that carried fish; all remaining water in their land is toxic for any warm-blooded lifeform, as well as the fish. The crawlers can drink it, but they cannot hunt in it, so they will starve if we offer no aid."

Henry swallowed a mouthful of his own fish, then took another bite, not in any hurry to reply. He would have to come up with a good excuse to get himself out of this one—fast.

"Besides," Thanatos on his other side raised his voice. "It would do you good to get your hide out of that cave at some point. You have sat around inside so much recently; a trip out of the jungle may be exactly what you need."

"Who the hell are you to talk like that?" Henry groaned. "My mother?!"

Before Thanatos could snap back, Henry turned to Lovelace again. "Hold on." He went over everything she had said again and perked up. "You want me there to protect the trading party . . . from cutters?"

Henry had never fought the ants of the Underland before. He had only ever seen a few from a distance, and as tedious as the trip had seemed earlier, a wave of adventurous spirit and curiosity for a new species flooded him suddenly.

"Yes," Lovelace said. "You will not be alone either. Thanatos will, of course, accompany you, and I am sending two of my most trusted and skilled fighters with you as well." Her gaze fixed on two female nibblers who entered the room, one dark gray and the other cream-colored, similar to Lovelace herself.

"They are Cylindra, one of my officials," she pointed at the gray mouse, "and that is Cevian." The second nibbler smiled, and Lovelace rose to greet her. "She is Curie's sister, born five years prior. I believe I did introduce you at some point, though it has been a while."

Henry's gaze flew up at Cevian, and he raked his memory for any mentions of Curie's older siblings—Lovelace's and Teslas' first pups. Cevian was one of three, he believed. But all of those introductions had been so long ago that he couldn't be sure.

Cevian gave him an encouraging, yet also somewhat challenging, smile. "It's nice to finally properly meet you, Henry. So much time you have spent with Father and I with errands for Mother that we did not get the chance to talk yet in all the time that you have lived here."

"Let us make up for it during this trip," he replied, only in retrospect realizing that he had just agreed to undertake it. Henry made a face, then more or less reluctantly accepted his fate. He put on the same kind of challenging expression in Cevian's direction. She held his gaze and nodded.

"Nice to meet you too," he said to Cylindra as well.

She gave him a respectful smile. "It is my pleasure."

"When will we leave?" Henry turned back to Lovelace, who had watched the scene—not without satisfaction, he thought.

"Immediately, if you can."

***

To Henry, the actual trip to the crawler colony almost seemed shorter than all the prep work—compiling supplies and loading them onto a construction Thanatos would carry.

Henry stared at the load, consisting of heavy crates full of fruit and dried fish, and thought a flier with normal stamina would have struggled with it. Meanwhile, Thanatos claimed he had flown the trek effortlessly with similar cargo multiple times.

But Henry had already experienced how exceptional his endurance was, among his own and possibly even among all species. So he was unsurprised when Thanatos indeed appeared not to show any signs of distress when they finally entered a huge cave with three tunnels leading out of it.

The only sign of life was a vast structure that loomed on the far side. When Henry lifted the torch the nibblers had given him, he recognized it as a massive stone fortress that had been carved out of the ancient stone. It was distinguishable, yet it remained intricately connected to its natural environment.

As soon as Thanatos landed, two crawlers scurried into view. They excitedly tapped their feet at the sight of the supplies. When Henry looked around for where they had come from, he discerned a narrow hole in the ground, directly in front of the structure.

He mounted down, wondering whether this was the colony's main hub and who had built such an impressive fortress for the crawlers. He told himself he would ask the nibblers, who had run the distance on foot and weren't here yet when they arrived.

Preemptively, Henry began hauling the supply crates off the carrier. Some five minutes later, Cevian and Cylindra finally joined them, but before Henry could ask about the fortress, they engaged in a vivid conversation with the crawlers.

Another five minutes passed, and Henry found himself underwhelmed, to say the least. The work was mundane and physically straining; there was no sign of any battle, not even a hint of danger, or really . . . anything that may have justified his presence here. Had he really come all this way just to bring food to some crawlers?

Then, when they were about halfway done unloading the goods, Thanatos' ears twitched and his head shot up. At the same moment, something touched Henry, and when he whipped around, a crawler had an antenna next to his leg, presumably to attract his attention.

Thanatos opened his mouth to say it, but the crawler next to Henry beat him to it. "Cutters are coming," he said. "Cutters are."

Henry jerked around toward the entrance; finally, something was happening! His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but just as he had readied himself to draw it, Cevian grabbed his arm and yanked him with herself toward the fortress. "The crawlers say there are too many this time. We cannot fight them. We must get to the citadel immediately, for only there will we be safe."

"Hey!" Henry forced his arm out of her grip. "To do battle is exactly why I am—" Henry broke off and stared, transfixed, at what had now emerged on the other side of the cave. Streaming out of the largest tunnel was a thick, fiery red mass. Initially, he was unable to distinguish individual bodies; only when he looked closer did he spot the hundreds of antennas and the sharp mandibles that gave this species its name . . . the cutters.

Cevian left Henry with no time to think or question anything. She threw him over her shoulder and onto her back this time. Henry screamed and struggled, but her grip was strong, and he was limited in his movement in his current position.

He released the torch, and it hit the floor, burning for a few more seconds before the fuel ran out and it sizzled as it left them in darkness. Cevian cared little; she continued on her way with the heavily protesting Henry on her back.

Then she released him, and he fell . . . further than he had expected, landing harshly on his backside. It had to be some kind of hole, and there were walls all around him.

Henry shrieked when he felt Cevian squeezing in after him, then opened his mouth to ask where they were and what the hell she thought she was doing. But then there were crawlers around him, and the moment Henry snapped his fingers, he discerned what they were doing . . . They were sealing the hole. They were trapping them all inside.

"Hey!" Henry screamed, his hand pressed against the wall. "Hey! Let me out!" He flailed around blindly and hit his head on the wall.

"Calm yourself," Cevian behind him said, pushing him forward, out of the hole, and into a larger open space. Henry didn't protest this time.

They were in the structure—the fortress—he thought. They had to be. Cevian had most likely dropped him into the same hole that the crawlers had originally appeared out of. Then, a kind of unease that had nothing to do with the darkness or the ongoing attack gripped his heart, and Henry froze. He and Cevian were here, but . . . "Where are Cylindra and Thanatos?"

"Cylindra should be down here already; she carried a crate earlier," Cevian's voice spoke next to him, and Henry nearly hit her in the face with his hand as he spun around. "And about your flier . . ." she hesitated. "I am sorry; he would not have fit through the entrance. But do not worry. Cutters are not skilled jumpers, and he can fly."

"Fine," Henry said, although he felt only marginally better. He attempted to stand and hit his head again, cursing. "Why did you bring me down here?" he complained. "We could have fought them! We came here to fight—not hide like cowards!" He snapped his fingers and lifted himself more carefully this time. "Where even are we?"

Too late, he registered that Cevian had gone ahead. "Cylindra!" Henry heard her call, but there was no response. "Cylindra!" Cevian called out again. "Her smell is all around us, but where is she?"

"Earlier here, your friend was, earlier," a quiet voice spoke next to him, and Henry almost tripped over the crawler who had appeared there.

"What do you mean, "earlier"?" Cevian asked, distressed.

"Not here anymore, she is, not anymore." The crawler answered, and Henry realized Cevian must have followed an older scent.

"Hey, Thanatos is out there too; I'm certain that he would have carried her to safety," Henry said, by far not as certain as he had sounded. He knew that Cevian was right; the flier would likely be fine. But what if the cutters had reached Cylindra before him?

As soon as it arose, he shoved the fear aside. He had greater concerns—concerns that he could actually influence. Like . . . finding a way out. Henry moved toward Cevian's voice, where he sensed an opening, but his head quickly met the low ceiling again.

Henry halted, contemplating how that had been three times hitting his head now. Silently cursing the crawlers' ridiculously low ceilings, he bent down and moved again, traversing a narrow but short tunnel. When the wall he traced with his hand disappeared, Henry dared to stand again. Wherever he had ended up, the ceiling there was higher; when he lifted his arm, he could feel it inches above his head.

Henry took a deep breath and collected himself, then snapped his fingers again.

Click. Click.

Apparently, they were in some sort of cave. He envisioned the low ceiling and a wall to his right.

Click.

There was Cevian, and there were two or maybe three crawlers. They were hard to distinguish individually.

He perceived no obstacles in front of him, so Henry slowly began walking forward, his hand tracing the ceiling this time. He checked his surroundings with echolocation periodically and soon found an exit leading to an even bigger cave. There, the ceiling was finally so high that Henry had to extend his arm to reach it. Breathing out in relief, he dared stretch his aching back.

Click.

There were many crawlers here; Henry wouldn't have been able to tell their number.

Click.

The cave was enormous; he had to focus to envision the opposing wall. In front of it, he now made out an object—some sort of bowl? Henry had to snap his fingers again to recognize the shape. When he finally understood what that was, a wave of joy hit him, and he made his way there, repeatedly using echolocation to not accidentally run into something.

Click.

There it was. Henry took another step and realized he'd miscalculated by a few inches. He cried out when he stubbed his foot on the bowl, which had been a little closer than anticipated. Henry cursed and knelt down, inspecting it. "Hey," he called out at random. "This is a brazier, right?"

"Lit on fire, it can be, lit on fire." A crawler responded from his right.

"Thank Sandwich's spirit!" Henry immediately reached for his fire stones, once again grateful beyond belief that his father had etched it into his mind to always carry them. Moments later, the brazier ignited.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Henry saw that the cave was about as big as his echolocation had indicated, but the number of crawlers in it was larger than he'd thought. Why did it have to be crawlers? He shifted, uncomfortable. Being trapped was an issue in general, but being trapped with an indeterminable amount of witless, gutless, and, in general, useless crawlers was so much worse.

Henry carefully rose to his feet again, keeping a careful eye on as many of the crawlers as he could. "Hey Cevian, I made light!" he called for the nibbler.

Seconds later, she poked her head into the larger cave. "Ah—what relief." She approached the fire and sat on her haunches next to the brazier.

Henry sat next to her, trying to keep his rising unease at bay by asking some of his myriad questions. "We are inside the colony, no?"

Cevian nodded, and Henry groaned. This was not helping with his unease whatsoever. "So . . ." He cleared his throat, forcing himself to ask more, no matter how much he envisioned that he would hate the answer. "What exactly is happening? When do we get out?"

Cevian threw him a glance. "Henry, you don't understand," she said. "We are not going to get out. We are under siege."