A HENRY STORY 1: Memories Of The Fallen Prince

XXX. Outcast

Gregor could not bring himself to care whatsoever about the annoyed Howard or the fireflies who sat at the far end of the boat, complaining to each other. He pulled the blanket around himself and wondered if Mareth had a set of fresh clothes for him to change into.

Only when Temp scurried past him toward Twitchtip did Gregor freeze in his tracks . . . because Boots was not on his back.

A million alarms went off in his head, and he whipped around. "Boots?" he called, scanning the boat. There, on one side, were Luxa and Howard with their bonds. Mareth and Andromeda stood at the helm. Only a few paces away, he spotted Thanatos and his rider, and in front of the bat with the white face . . . "Boots!" Gregor rocked the boat when he sprinted over.

"—snowy white!"

Gregor hadn't caught what else Boots had said, but she pointed at Thanatos' face, then clapped her little hands and giggled. By her side stood the rider; he propped himself up against the boat's edge to avoid falling over in fits of laughter.

Gregor almost tumbled himself when he came to a halt next to Boots and scooped her up, earning heavy protest. "I talk with bat!" she screamed. "I talk with bat!" He barely held her as she attempted to wriggle free.

"Leave them be, Boots," he tried to argue, but he already knew that she was moments away from a full-blown fit. And so he gritted his teeth and braced himself.

"You do not have to be concerned," said Thanatos unexpectedly. His tone was so different from the way he had spoken before—almost gentle—that Gregor froze. "She was not causing us any distress," said the bat with a content expression that was almost a smile.

Boots stopped churning immediately and stared at him.

"None indeed!" the rider chimed in when he had finally seized control of his laughter. "She was only making up poems about Death's face, and what poems! Why have you robbed us of hearing the rest of them?"

Gregor felt his ears flush. He didn't really know what to say, but at least the catastrophe of a toddler fit seemed to have been averted. "M-Maybe later," he mumbled in the strangers' direction, then frowned. "Wait, did you just say "Death"?"

"It is his name, no?" the rider said with what Gregor believed to be a crooked smile.

Gregor stared at him and then realized that "Thanatos" really did mean "Death". His eyes met the bat, and he thought the nickname was as accurate as it was morbid.

He smiled uncertainly again. There was something about the laid-back demeanor of the strangers that made Gregor unsure of how to interact with them. Even though he had been friendly so far, the human still gave him the impression of talking to one of those rich, popular guys at school—something he had never really done yet, and not only because they would never speak to him either.

"Mareth?" the rider called all of a sudden. "Will you not offer the Overlander dry clothes at one point?"

Gregor's mouth snapped shut. He had been meaning to ask for that but hadn't quite dared. It wasn't like that was a particularly urgent need, and he hadn't wanted to be a bother. When Mareth waved him over and he started to walk, Gregor gave the stranger a wave and thought he probably hadn't even considered a fear like that.

***

A few hours later—it was probably in the middle of the night—the questers gathered to eat. After Gregor had changed into a spare set of clothes, Howard had changed the bandage on his arm, and Gregor found the injury from the squids did not hurt as much as he had expected after the bath in freshwater.

The bats had gone out to catch fish as most of their supplies had sunk with the other boat, and Gregor had just begun wondering how they were supposed to cook it here, on the open sea, when Luxa took a seat beside him. "Some of the supplies survived," she said. "I made you a sandwich."