A HENRY STORY 3: Covenants Of The Fallen Prince

XXV. Condemnation

"Secret?" Howard chimed in, pushing to the front to stand between Luxa and Gregor. "What does he mean?"

"Howard," said Ripred with emphasis, suppressing the rest of his laughter. "Do you not pay attention to what's happening around you at all? It's comical enough that you all didn't recognize the lad, for you apparently grew up together, but come on! Cat's out of the bag now!"

Part of Henry was tempted to ask what a cat was, but he couldn't look away from Howard. A few silent heartbeats went by; Howard stared at him with a scowl, and Henry stared back defiantly, attempting to brace himself. In the end, he thought he could pinpoint the exact moment when Howard comprehended . . . and not only because it was also the moment when Howard's hand flew to the hilt of his sword. "You—!"

He had braced himself, yet the seething contempt in Howard's eyes stabbed into his chest relentlessly. There was also disbelief, shock . . . and condemnation—so much of it that he was rendered immobile.

Hadn't he told himself that he had no more fear? Henry took them all in—Howard's furiously contorted face and his hand at the hilt of his sword; Gregor's anxiously entwined hands and his rigid shoulders; Ares' awkwardly averted gaze; the accusing gleam in Aurora's eyes and her protectively extended wing . . . And Luxa staring past him, her face void of any emotion or movement. Almost . . . dead.

He had told himself that he would no longer dread the revelation of his identity, that he needed no absolution, thought Henry desperately. Yet now that he was facing the condemnation that he had told himself he would not fear, he understood that this declaration had been a lie.

"What is going on?"

Thanatos' sudden landing in their midst startled everyone, as if they had not realized he had been gone. His flier looked between Henry's horrified face, the defensive group, and finally Ripred for confirmation. "Our lad here has apparently forgotten that only Henry would know about this place," snickered Ripred.

Thanatos' head whipped back to the group, then he leaped forward. His enormous wings unfurled protectively; something about the motion reminded Henry of their first encounter with the questers on the waterway . . . in more than one way.

Everyone staggered one step back. Howard's hand released his sword, only to ball into a fist instead. "Know you even who your bond truly is?" he asked icily. "What he has done—"

Before he could utter another word, Thanatos knocked Howard off his feet, pressing him down with his talon. "I know his true self far better than you," he hissed.

"Fine, keep your vow," Howard pressed out, struggling under Thanatos' weight. "Do pray that he also keeps his."

The low hiss out from between Thanatos' bared teeth sent a chill down Henry's spine. Howard cried out from how tightly his talons dug into his chest. "Speak not of things you do not understand!" cried Thanatos.

"Death, I beg you, cease . . ."

Only when Henry spoke weakly did Thanatos release Howard, drawing back again. "Any of you. I dare one of you to claim for yourself a right to condemn him!"

Howard sat up, coughing and gripping his chest, yet no one made a move to help him up. Gregor and Ares stared at him with concern, yet they did not rebuke him either. No one besides Howard moved at all. "I do," spat Howard. "I have a right to—"

"At ease, dears," Ripred cut in at last. Casual as ever, he strode forward, planting himself between Henry and Thanatos, and the rest of the group. "My dears," he addressed them again. "All of this is quite entertaining, yet we've actual relevant business to discuss, haven't we? Does anyone recall?"