A series of images flashed before his eyes, nearly staggering him with their impact—not from the ghouls’ use of aura, but from the way they overlapped so closely with his own memories.

  It started with the image of Crunch racing across a familiar field. Terry recognized it immediately as the day the Knights of Sol attacked. He could practically feel his younger self bouncing on Crunch’s shoulder.

  When Savage leaped into view, raw, crystallized emotions pierced the image: an unshakable will to protect his charge mingling with the certainty that he could never win. All he had to do was stall for time until the Emperor arrived. If he had to give his life in the process, then so be it; he would return again one day, in this form or another.

  It was a fatal surety that rocked Terry. But before he could even attempt to process the sensation, another memory materialized.

  The draugr’s implacable presence rocked his brothers, shunting them to the side through sheer power. But not him. Of all the Children arrayed beside him, he was the only one to shake free from the draugr’s spell and muster a resistance. As he latched onto that unbeatable foe, his strength freed the others, buying the prince time to flee.

  Of course, Terry hadn’t fled, but that was irrelevant.

  He might have expected the memories to end there—most of the ghouls he had encountered had one, maybe two, crystallized thought-forms in their aura-name.

  But a series of images flashed in quick succession, like a slideshow of experiences that Terry both recognized, yet glimpsed from an alien perspective.

  Despite that partial disconnect, Terry was the central figure in each and every image—not Crunch. A memory of Terry as a young child, playing on the floor while Crunch stood guard flashed into his mind. Another where Terry was sleeping and the ghoul patrolled the hallway.

  Terry facing down his Aunt Julia, protecting Crunch just as Crunch had protected him; when Terry had returned from meeting IBelieve and had cried uncontrollably, confiding everything in the ghoul.

  On and on the images whirled, centralizing not only around the bond between prince and bodyguard, but on their relationship…their friendship.

  It was the most overwhelming ghoulish name he’d ever experienced and he had trouble distilling it down into the usual format.

  But as Burg and Blood’s auras retracted, he got a fleeting sensation of the way the two of them thought of Crunch.

  To them, Crunch was the Unfailing Friend and Protector of Prince Terry.

  “It’s a bit of a mouthful,” he joked, wiping at the tears sliding down his cheeks.

  The ghoul nodded once. “Prefer Crunch.”

  Terry laughed at that, nodding toward Burg and Blood. “What about you guys?”

  Burg shook his head. “Burgundy.” His aura indicated Blood. “Bloodstain.”

  Terry’s eyebrows rose at that. “You can have both, right?”

  “We have not earned yet,” Bloodstain added. “One day, perhaps.”

  He was surprised by that, but Crunch spoke up before he question them.

  “They are still young. Names are forever.” He looked toward them like an older brother instructing younger siblings. “They will be patient.”

  Terry nodded, not realizing that there was an age difference between the two and Crunch. He wanted to ask if they were spawned in Wichita, but the voices behind him had raised at some point, drawing his attention back to his mother and the larger concerns of the war.

  “You’re right, that isn’t something to rush,” Terry agreed, turning toward the commotion.

  The missing members of Team Dallas had arrived, including the S-ranked Traveler, Hopper, as well as Lift, the S-ranked Air Elementalist.

  Terry couldn’t truly reconcile his feelings toward the Traveler; she had been complicit in leaving them to die during the battle with Qui Shen. But he also recognized what an asset a high-ranking Traveler was in a large-scale conflict.

  A technician at a nearby desk spoke up, garnering the attention of the A- and S-rankers by the large table.

  “Artifact connection coming in from the White Rose!”

  Terry felt his heart flutter at the words, following everyone’s eyes as they went up toward the big screens on the nearby wall.

  A larger-than-life video feed of his mother appeared and he longed to speak up, grab her attention…tell her he was home.

  But there were concerns bigger than his mommy issues, so he kept his mouth shut and turned his full attention to the others.

  “Dallas, are you reading me?”

  Her voice was loud, like she was yelling to hear her own thoughts.

  “We read you, White Rose,” Hopper called out. “What’s your status?”

  Her eyes flitted around, as if she were watching movement off screen before turning back.

  “San Francisco Bay has been cleared of hostiles. Enemy forces have retreated into the connecting rifts—”

  The room erupted in cheers, causing Terry to jump in surprise before smiling at the reaction. Her voice had been lost in the celebration and the Emperor shouted over them with a tone that threatened violence.

  “Everyone shut up!”

  “—I repeat, enemy casualties are six A-rankers, thirteen Bs, and forty-seven Cs as of last count. Protectorate casualties are as follows: two As, seven Bs, and nineteen Cs—” Her eyes trailed up to someone off screen. “Correction, make that three As.” She hesitated a moment, visibly swallowing before continuing. “Civilian casualties…unknown.”

  The mood in the room turned somber, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Nobody spoke for a moment, while his mother turned away to address someone out of view.

  “No,” he could hear her voice call out. “I don’t give a damn! You tell him the priorities of evacuation are children and mothers first. If he makes me come over there, I’ll send him straight into the ocean, is that clear?”

  When she turned back, her face was bright red with fury.

  “Pen,” his dad called out. “Is it clear to send non-combatants through?”

  Her eyes tracked across the screen, then seemed to find James. She didn’t quite smile, but the fury softened noticeably.

  “Yes, hon, it’s clear.”

  James nodded once, then turned to address the room, his voice booming out just as loud and powerful as his father.

  “You heard the Rose. I want full medivac protocols. All available healers and non-Awakened medics report to your designated Travel rooms.”

  The room instantly burst into action, the stark contrast from somber silence to a flurry of movement shocking Terry numb. He felt like he was still acclimating to the situation, while everyone else had been living it for weeks.

  His dad met his eyes and came over.

  “Dad…this is…”

  He couldn’t find the words, but James nodded as if he understood perfectly.

  “I know, son. It makes the Wichita-Topeka Conflict feel like a backyard brawl.” He let out a deep breath, shaking his head. “I wish it had never come to this. But it has.” His eyes hardened in a way Terry couldn’t remember seeing since before his mother had gone missing. “Losing isn’t an option.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Those simple words scared Terry more than any casualty report or far-away conflict on the other side of the continent.

  “Can I…can I go—to see her, I mean?”

  He furrowed his nose and Terry prepared his arguments for why he should be allowed, when James sighed heavily.

  “My fatherly instinct is to say hell no…but the commander in me says you’re a C-ranker—and a damn powerful one at that.”

  Terry latched onto that sentiment, his voice hurried, though kept low so only his father could hear.

  “I can catalog a healer’s Skill, start being useful almost immediately.” He considered his next words, wondered if he should pull them back. But there was no keeping the truth from his father. “And I want to see Mom.”

  James pressed his lips tight, but nodded.

  “I have to admit, we can use every healer we can get. And though the west coast is a hotbed of insurgents and sneak attacks, I doubt there’s any safer place in the whole world than by your mother’s side.”

  Terry felt a grip he hadn’t even realized was there loosen on his stomach. A part of him was nervous teleporting into a battlefield. But another part of him wondered how it was much different from their assault on the sanguine deep in the Underworld.

  James’ hands came up to his shoulders, his eyes boring into him.

  “Be safe, Terry. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.” His father chewed his lip in worry, his voice turning low. “I just got you back. I can’t lose you again, y’hear?”

  Terry nodded and his father roughly pulled him into his arms. Their embrace was quick as they both noticed an aide bouncing from foot-to-foot nearby, clearly wanting James’ attention.

  “Go,” his father said sharply. “Hopper will set you up with transport.”

  Terry looked over at the S-ranker, who met his eye with noticeable chagrin.

  Well, at least she’s got enough shame to know she fucked up…

  As he started over to the Traveler, James’ voice called out behind him.

  “Take Crunch, Burg, and Blood with you!”

  Terry glanced over to see the trio of ghouls loping over at James’ command. He smiled as they approached.

  “Partners in crime, once more,” he joked, though he suspected it would be lost on them.

  To his surprise, their auras reacted in appreciation and Burg responded in ghoulish with a flash of humor.

  “We were talking, my prince, and we agreed that if you must insist on unnecessarily putting your life in danger…it be at your rank or below.”

  “Yes,” Blood agreed. “These past weeks without you have made us complacent and weak. Let us re-acclimate for a while before you do anything brash.”

  He stared at the two of them in stunned silence before answering back. “Oh, so you two have jokes now?” He felt the pleased response in their auras. Turning toward Crunch, he raised an eyebrow. “What about you? Got anything witty and out of character to add?”

  Crunch stared back stoically, his single eye blinking once. Then, in English, “Crunch agrees.” He nodded toward his arm. “Can’t afford lose second arm, see?”

  Terry rocked back on his heels, then let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head.

  “Come on, spill. Who’s been teaching you three humor?”

  A voice called from behind him, familiar and full of sass.

  “That would be me.”

  He spun around, his eyes tracking across the crowded room to find Tania standing by the door, her arms crossed and her lips pressed tight.

  “Tania!” he cried out, rushing toward her.

  He thought she might maintain her stony exterior, but as he neared, a smile slipped free and she rushed forward to meet him.

  She crashed against his chest and he rest his face against her head. Inexplicably, she pulled away almost immediately and punched his arm.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “Don’t ever do that again!” she demanded, her smile melting away into a furious snarl. “Do you have any idea how scared I was!”

  He couldn’t resist the smirk that itched across his face. “Awww, you do care!”

  He thought about dodging the next fist angling toward his arm, but changed his mind; it would only be worse if he tried. And, his D-ranked physique could handle it.

  “You jerk,” she cried. Then she popped him a third time. “Next time warn me before you disappear into thin air.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you a Seer. Shouldn’t those be the kinds of things you…see.”

  Her eyes went wide with rage and he cringed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, bad joke!”

  She eyed him a moment longer, as if waiting to see if he’d make another stupid comment, then slowly let her fist fall to her side. Her eyes flicked away, then came back, an expression etching across her face that he couldn’t remember seeing before.

  It almost looked like…shyness.

  “I…” she started, faltering over the words. “I…” She mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch.

  He leaned forward. “What?”

  She looked away, her cheeks turning red. “I said…I missed you…” Then her eyes cut back, a dangerous look there, daring him to make fun of her.

  But that was the last thing on his mind as he felt a conflicting sense of emotions gripping him.

  Nodding, he replied back, “I missed you too, Tania.”

  Reaching forward, he pulled her into a second, less abusive hug. At first, she resisted. But her resistance crumbled away and he felt her sag into his body a moment later.

  As they held each other, their auras brushed together too. He couldn’t help but feel the worry, the anxiety, the anger…the desire, all mingling throughout her aura.

  But there was too much going on, too much pulling at his mind, to focus on those emotions. Instead, he turned his attention to another thing he felt in her aura.

  “You ranked up?” he asked in surprise.

  She nodded, her head brushing against his chest. “Gotta catch up with you somehow.” Then she pulled back and he resisted the urge to draw her back in. “Though, you seem to be staying two ranks ahead of me no matter what I do.” There was a light tone of accusation there, softened by the smile on her face. “I’m gonna have to speed up if I’m gonna reach S-rank before you.”

  He snorted, smiling down at her. “I guess I could slow down and let you catch up. Would be the only sporting thing to do.”

  She rolled her eyes, pulling away from the hug. “As if. Bet I reach A-rank before you.”

  “What’re the stakes, then?” he asked coyly.

  She put a finger to her lips, and he realized for the first time just how red they were. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts that seemed to intrude no matter what he did.

  “Let me think about it,” she eventually replied, and he was grateful for a chance to change the subject.

  “I’ve gotta get going,” he said quickly. “I’m heading to S.F. to see my mom and help triage the wounded. I’ll meet you back here—”

  She scowled, shaking her head. “Like hell. That’s where I’m heading then, too.”

  His instinct was to argue, claim it was too dangerous for an E-ranker. But then he remembered who he was talking to and he bit his tongue. Tania wasn’t one to be told what she could or couldn’t do. Plus, he remembered her Danger Sense Skill and realized that she would be relatively safe—as safe as one could be in a warzone, anyway.

  Which reminded him of his own new Skills.

  “Oh, I just remembered!” he burst out, a smile on his face. “When I ranked up, I got a pretty sweet new Skill.”

  Her eyes widened in curiosity. “Yeah?”

  He nodded, his eyebrows raising. “It’s called: Loan Skill.”

  Hopper hadn’t said much as they’d taken her portal to a staging point in San Francisco, and Terry hadn’t pressed the issue. From the way the older woman looked at Tania, it seemed she’d gotten an earful or two already.

  As Terry, Tania, and the three ghouls prepared to pass through Hopper’s portal, he had explained how his Loan Skill worked, pointing out the fact that she could finally experience space like her mother had been able to.

  So he was surprised when she seemed less than enthusiastic about the possibility.

  “I thought you’d be ecstatic,” he said when he noticed her subtle frown.

  She nodded half-heartedly. “No, don’t get me wrong, it’s cool. It’s just…” Her eyes trailed up, an abashed look on her face. “You can’t use it if you loan it to me.”

  “Ah…”

  “It’s still amazing—truly. But when we were working with Marlon’s cats, the thought of having my own permanent teleportation fixture kinda got my hopes up, I guess.”

  The staging area was a wide-open space cordoned off with quickly-applied caution tape and a duo of Awakened guards to make sure no one entered the space accidentally.

  They had to pause their conversation as someone with a clipboard approached the five of them.

  “Names, ranks, and skillset?”

  Terry’s mind was still stuck on Tania’s reaction, so he was slow to process the question. The attendant with the clipboard raised his eyebrows impatiently and Tania stepped forward.

  “We’re here to see the White Rose. Commander Fairway sent us.”

  The attendant stared at them doubtfully, so Terry sent his father a quick System message.

  By the way the man’s eyes went out of focus, then widened in surprise, Terry figured the confusion had been cleared up.

  “Right away, sir, ma’am, uh…” He was glancing over Terry’s shoulder at the three ghouls, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to address the trio. After a half-second of uncertainty, he said, “and party.”

  With a snap of his fingers, he drew one of the guard’s attention.

  “Williams, can you direct these five to the Rose? They have all the necessary clearances.”

  The Awakened guard, Williams, nodded crisply and indicated for them to follow.

  As they left the cordoned-off area and trailed Williams, the air between him and Tania felt heavy. He opened his mouth a few times to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

  When he glanced over at her, he saw her own gaze flick to him, then suddenly away. He sighed, shaking his head.

  “Listen, Tania, I—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Let me go first. I’m sorry, that was really entitled and ungrateful of me. Of course I’m excited for the opportunity to properly Travel. And it would be incredibly shortsighted and dangerous to fiddle with my aura when you have a perfectly safe Skill that can do the same thing—even temporarily.”

  He stared open-mouthed at her, unable to contain his shock. She was purposefully looking anywhere but him, but when he didn’t reply, she glanced over and saw his gaping mouth.

  She arched a brow imperiously.

  “What is that look supposed to mean?” she asked.

  He shook his head quickly. “Nothing, I’m just…” Suddenly, his eyes narrowed skeptically. “Who are you and what have you done with Tania?” He made a show of peering deep into her eyes. “Body snatcher or shapeshifter, hm?”

  She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.

  “Oh, what? I can’t have a mature, measured response every now and again?”

  He leaned back, crossing his arms in a parody of her familiar pose.

  “No, Tania. No, you cannot.”

  She went to swat at him playfully and he dodged away, bumping into Williams.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry!” Terry said quickly.

  The guard waved away his concern, then indicated a large tent behind him.

  “No problem, sir. The White Rose is in there. Would you like me to escort you in?”

  Terry suddenly felt a yearning deep in his chest. With a shake of his head, he moved past Williams to peel back the tent flap.

  Before he could reach it, a hand shifted it aside, revealing a familiar, strikingly beautiful face.

  Tears were already forming in his mother’s eyes and they rushed into an embrace.

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