A HENRY STORY 1: Memories Of The Fallen Prince

XXV. Destiny

The moment Thanatos took flight, Henry drifted off to sleep. He wasn't concerned with their destination, as all he craved was rest, and he trusted the flier to know where he was going.

As he stirred from his sleep again, he was oblivious to their location. He did not bother giving it too much thought either until they entered a tunnel that followed the path of a flowing river. Not long after, Thanatos shot out into a vast cave; the river broadened and Henry's eye widened. He suddenly knew exactly where they were—because up on the cliff's peak, overlooking the river below, hung the remains of a bridge.

"The bridge!" He even rose a little, staring up.

"Is it of importance?" Thanatos gained altitude and soared above the canyon that had once been spanned by the destroyed bridge.

"The gnawers attacked us here during the quest for the Prophecy of Gray," said Henry. "It was our doing to sever the ropes so that they would not follow us."

Thanatos hovered above the scape. "Where did you come from?"

"There." Henry directed the flier toward a tunnel ahead. "Why?"

"So that we may visit the spinners," said the flier, already closing in on the opening. "Did you not encounter them on your quest?"

Henry hummed in approval and lay back down as the flier left the oddly bittersweet sight of the bridge behind. Well, at least he knew where he was again, Henry thought. Not that it did much for the unease that had nestled in his stomach and that he suspected wouldn't go away for a while.

They flew another ten minutes until the tunnel mounded into a cave with a high ceiling. There, Thanatos landed. "Let us eat something," he said. "And let us not over-strain my wing yet."

Henry said nothing when he slid off his back and settled himself on the floor with his back against the wall. He pulled his legs up, valiantly battling his throbbing head. After a minute or so, he finally mustered the energy to shake his torch out of his backpack. He needed light if he was going to tend to his wound, and something told him he should do that every few hours.

When Henry had finally managed to light and fixate it in Teslas' device, he spotted Thanatos sitting in the middle. "This cave is decent," remarked the flier. "Did you make camp here when you came this way last time?"

"I don't know," shrugged Henry. "Did you expect me to memorize every cave that—" He froze in his tracks, nearly knocking over the torch. He may not have memorized every cave they had made camp in, but Henry would never forget this particular one.

You know, where I come from, we don't think much of someone who sneaks up and stabs a person in their sleep. The words Gregor had uttered after stepping in front of Ripred like an ignorant madman when Henry had tried exactly that.

His hand flew to his own right arm to trace the scar—one of the few that he had received before his exile. The one that would forever remind him of Ripred and how he had injured him in self-defense.

His gaze flew to the corner where it had happened all on its own, and he clenched his jaw, recalling the emotions of that night. Driven mad by a desire to prove himself to Gorger, he had thought . . . what? What had he thought would happen? Henry made a face. That Gorger would show up here to laud his handiwork? That, if he succeeded, they may not even need to go any further, and that he may be back in Regalia on time for the upcoming Airball championship after all? Henry gave a scoffing laugh.

"Can we not fly back to the river if we are to camp somewhere?" he asked, suddenly finding it hard to stand the sight of the cave.

"We are more sheltered here," replied Thanatos. "You said yourself that you were attacked by gnawers last time. I doubt they will come here anymore, but better safe than sorry."