A HENRY STORY 1: Memories Of The Fallen Prince

XX. Loyalty

"Teslas, are you there?" Henry called at the entrance to his workshop.

"If you come to check on your dagger, I am nearly done," the nibbler replied, and Henry voiced a quiet sigh, then stopped himself from kneading his hands before he stepped inside.

But today, he was not here for the dagger—which Teslas still hadn't finished, despite the fact that two entire weeks had passed since he had brought him the materials to reinforce it. Today . . . he had to talk to Teslas because of his curious talent for logically sorting out emotional issues; maybe he could shed some light on why it had distressed Henry so much when Thanatos had announced that he intended to leave the colony tomorrow . . . alone.

I have things to do, was all he'd said. It's my business and my decision what I do, and what you do is yours. Besides, you have your thing with Teslas—I don't.

Henry hadn't been able to argue with the truth. He was right. They had established that they weren't bonds; they hadn't any obligations toward each other. And yet the idea of separating now distressed him more than he had or would ever let on. Henry had no idea why; maybe the fact that he couldn't logically explain the odd emotion was the worst part.

Henry's mind flew back to the last two weeks since the citadel incident. Since then, instead of letting him work for Teslas, Lovelace had entrusted Henry and Thanatos with the responsibility of leading trade runs across the entire Underland.

They had explored more of the jungle, visited the other nibbler colony at the Fount, flown over parts of the waterway, and briefly scouted the Labyrinth—the part of the rats' land that lay further south. They had also crossed the Vineyard of Eyes numerous times, to the point where it had even become slightly less dreadful. They had done so much . . . but they hadn't done everything yet. And now they never would because Thanatos hadn't offered to take him along.

Henry stopped in his tracks. Was that what really bothered him so much? That the flier hadn't considered Henry may want to leave with him? But . . . did he even want to leave?

Once, Henry had thought of the colony as a paradise among hellish jungle, but . . . As pleasant and secure as life at the colony was, the more he thought about it, the more he began feeling like it was beginning to suffocate him. It was a little like back in Regalia, Henry thought. Comparably carefree and safe, but the price for it were duties and expectations.

Throughout the last two weeks, Henry had sometimes thought he missed working for Teslas. Now he thought he had missed the lack of obligations entirely. Was that what bothered Thanatos so much?

As much-needed a break their time here had been, Henry felt a sudden craving for novelty. The thought occurred to him that he might regret his hunger for adventure once he was in the thick of it, as he had last time, but he ignored it. An incredible restlessness gripped him all of a sudden. He understood why Thanatos wanted to leave very well. The part he didn't understand was why he was leaving Henry behind.

If he had done something wrong, he would have told him . . . wouldn't he? Thanatos never shied away from speaking his mind. It was one of Henry's favorite things about him; he told the hard truths to his face as opposed to whispering behind his back. It was infuriating sometimes, but also incredibly convenient.

And . . . they were friends, no? Good friends, so Henry had assumed. Had that been just him?

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something." Henry made his way past the loaded shelves toward the table, where he found his propped-up rat tooth dagger instead of Teslas. "But if you already bring it up, why is this dagger project taking so long?"

Henry knew he was stalling, but it dawned on him that he had no idea how to even put his confused feelings into words.

Teslas appeared between two large shelves. "I was distracted with things, okay? We can't do everything all at once. What do I tell you?"