#the emperor of the nine houses

[xxhentaibootytomhardyblowme]

one of the biggest Locked Tomb plot twists was staring us in the face the whole time

when we first meet the Necrolord Prime, we learn he calls himself John Gaius. At that point, one could fairly assume that the name "Gaius" is a bit of grandiose posturing, as "Gaius" was associated with Roman rulers, especially the founder of the Roman Empire (Gaius) Julius Caesar.

But it's not. It's a *lyctor name.*

When a lyctor ascends, they take the name form of their first name, then their cavalier's, i.e. Gideon Pyrrha, Ianthe Naberius.

John was lyctor bonded to Annabelle Lee - the spirit of the Earth. In Greek, the mother Earth spirit is *Gaia.*

We were told what John had done way back at the start of Harrow the Ninth, and we never noticed!

[take-a-dip-in-the-deadpool]

Im listening to the Harrow the Ninth audiobook by Tamsyn Muir

The emperor just said “…To prevent the Nine houses from becoming NONE HOUSES WITH LEFT GRIEF” !!!!!

Are you kidding me?!?!? I knew this book series was pretty much written FOR tumblr but to be this blatant about it!! Love it

[partial-bouquet]

If The Emperor of The Nine Houses is ever described in Harrow The Ninth, I didn’t process it and was imagining just a dude dressed like The Pope in gold and black robes.

So imagine my surprise when I see fanart and he looks like Nico Di Angelo fanart if Nico were like 30ish and played by Benedict Cumberbatch.

[palamadeez]

listen, all i'm saying is that if i were given absolute power, i simply would not let it corrupt me absolutely

[elfieafterdark]

I think the coolest thing about Nona as a book is that we get to see what the other side is like. Imagine for a minute that we didn't have Nona, and instead alecto had come out and it was all already over.

Imagine that we didn't get to see what an ordinary planet looked like, and what life on an ordinary planet in the same universe as the nine houses was like.

If we didn't get to see the constant fear they live in of power beyond their comprehension just being dropped on their heads. You got to burn all the bones, all of them mother fucker. If anyone even looks like a zombie fucker you got to kill them just in case.

We're cut off, we have no backup or supplies. You can either submit to John Gaius and the nine houses or you can fucking die.

I'm halfway through the book, and what it has really cemented for me is how fucking awful the nine houses are. Which is something we already knew implicitly, but now we have it explicitly.

If you want to live differently, you aren't allowed to and you need to die. So that we can use your bones for menial labor. I mean think about it, you and I like necromancy as a fictional concept.

But imagine if some oppressor of yours was literally invincible and couldn't die. Oh shit I guess it's a metaphor for colonialism isn't it?

Like I said, I'm really fucking glad that Nona the Ninth exists as a book. It's got me thinking about things that I didn't think TLT could make me think about.

And that's amazing. Even if it is lacking in griddlehark.

[nibblette]

The fact that Jod has hopped in and out of the head military ships of the Nine Houses for like 9000yrs is a trip for me. So like if your grandpa survives his time in the Cohort he comes home and was like…. “I saw God eating peanuts in an admiralty meeting, once.” And that is like the family legend/brag for like hundreds of years.

Even worse (or better?) if your ancestor banged Jod. Does he let those people survive? Or does a Lyctor or high ranking officer find a way for them to conveniently die a “heroic death in battle”?

It’s got to be so weird for people of the Nine Houses who worship a god who hasn’t come back to their solar system for 9000yrs but your random cousin of a cousin of a friend’s uncle saw God and the Saint of Patience making out in a broom closet during his time on the Erebus.

[maskednerd]

[mayasaura]

Piggybacking on my “John’s waiting to resurrect Kiriona after he resets everything again” ask from before: he knew he was lying when he said killing Alecto would make Kiriona his cavalier, but he justified it to himself because all Kiriona would do was wake her and then they could reset everything and Kiriona would be alive forever and never have to know he lied

(The ask from before for reference)

I'm kinda skeptical that he ever actually said he would make Kiriona his cavalier. That smells like an extrapolation Gideon would come to herself from a more vaguely worded promise, because she's never felt secure in her value to anyone except as a cavalier.

You're right, tho. If he did say that, he said it with zero intention of ever following through. John's never openly had a cavalier, that title was assigned to Alecto by third parties in retrospect. He's never participated that closely in the culture of the Houses, and I can't see him starting now. And from his perspective, what are a few lies in the endgame? It's not like she'll remember his promise long enough to expect him to follow through

[whimsicalforestentity]

Thinking of how John has absolutely read Dune and I assume is at least somewhat aware of warhammer 40K and those are the only examples he has to compare his god-emperorship to.

Personally I think the aesthetics of his empire are very influenced by Lynche’s Dune at least outfit-wise but I don’t know enough about warhammer to judge wether it has influenced him (or rather he has tried to keep himself from) it

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 35/38: And Watching

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34

An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.

Ao3

The keep loomed in front of Phoenix, cold and sterile. His stomach tied itself in knots, his heart flip-flopping around like he was 13 and coming back from his first failed mission all over.

I never thought I’d see this place again.

Somehow, it seemed… smaller. Phoenix couldn’t quite place why, but even though seeing the place still filled him with dread, it felt… lighter. Maybe it was knowing that if he did all the right things, if he fought back, he could leave this place behind forever. Not that there was a place for him to go after with the house destroyed, but at least the people who’d made the house worth going back to were still alive.

Hopefully.

The star swooped closer to the ground, and Phoenix tumbled off the back, rolling to absorb the impact, and springing to his feet. He took a deep breath, let it out, then started thinking of all the worst possible scenario, of what would happen if he couldn’t get away. The Isles? Destroyed. His body? Taken by Belos and used to hurt the people he cared about.

His arms shifted into mud and claws, and he twisted his fluid hand, snaking the claws to the ropes that held him tight.

Petro swooped back around, landing and dragging Phoenix closer with a wave of his staff. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“How’s possession?” Phoenix asked, desperate to keep his attention away from the slowly, but steadily fraying ropes. “Is it everything you hoped for when you went back to him? Does it hurt much?”

Petro’s jaw clenched, and he tossed Phoenix to the side.

Hit a nerve there.

The Collector’s star whirled out of control, crashing into the ground, and Phoenix winced, glad he’d rolled off when he did. Belos staggered off, twitching and lurching. The witch he was possessing must be fighting back—Belos wouldn’t be able to use their body much longer.

Phoenix slashed at the ropes quicker.

“I said,” the witch growled, “Get out!”

They whistled, a long, high, pure note, and Belos flew forward, repelled by a blast of magic that ruffled Phoenix’s hair and strained the ropes around him.

Belos snarled. “That’s fine. Only one vessel is big enough to do what I need.” He pulled up into a smaller, shriveled version of his monster form, his blue eyes latching on Petro. “Watch them.”

He disappeared into the castle. The witch watched for a moment, puzzled then gasped. “No.”

They glanced back, an agonized apology written on their face as their eyes met Phoenix’s.

“Go,” Phoenix urged them, “Don’t worry about me.”

They bolted, tearing through the front gates. Petro swore, starting to chase after them, but stopped, hovering between their quickly-disappearing form and Phoenix with a frustrated growl. Finally, he jabbed one finger at Phoenix. “Don’t. Move. I mean it.”

He leapt after the witch, chasing in bursts of magical gold that were always just a step behind the witch’s quick pace.

Phoenix finally tore through the ropes, leaping to his feet. He’d never catch up running, not with his broken ankle. Instead, he eyed the outside of the keep. He’d be heading for the throne room; Phoenix had spent enough time here that he could figure out where any room in the keep was from the outside, and he picked a likely window. He limped to Belos’ crashed star, tugging it out of the ground and kneeling on its glowing center.

Don’t think about it too hard.

Phoenix tugged the points of the star, and the whole thing shot upwards, flipping nearly perpendicular to the ground. Phoenix yelped, pressing his weight forward against the star to even it out. He slowly angled the star to face the window, then leaned forward, hurtling towards the window at top speed. He braced himself for impact, wincing as the window shattered and broken shards of glass slashed at his face and arms while he sailed through.

If I had a snail for every time today…

The witch from before faced off against Petro, whirling around and emitting sharp whistles that blasted Petro back every time he tried to attack. Bard magic. But Belos inched his rotting way towards the titan’s heart. Phoenix leapt off the star and onto Petro, tackling him.

“Stop Belos!” he yelled, “I’ve got your back!”

The world blurred gold just as the bard reached for their viola.

Petro warped outside, close to the top of the keep. Phoenix yelped, clinging to the staff while Petro kicked at him.

“You’re too much trouble,” Petro hissed, his foot narrowly missing Phoenix’s face. “We’re better off without you. Just—” Phoenix twisted to avoid a kick, still holding onto the staff with all his might. “Let—” another failed kick. “Go! Stop wiggling!” The staff slowly drifted towards the outer walls, dragged by Phoenix’s thrashing weight.

Before Petro could try to kick him again, before Phoenix could make another move, the keep exploded in green, what looked like a forest of mold and moss erupting from its center and covering the walls. Petro stopped kicking at Phoenix, staring slack-jawed at the ruin covered in growth.

Phoenix pushed off the staff while Petro was distracted, stretching his claws out and digging them into the keep walls as he fell. His momentum dragged him down in a hail of broken stone and popping, creaking joints and bones. He came to a halt a relatively safe distance from the ground, and leapt the rest of the way, landing in a roll and springing to his feet. He turned his face away from the keep, sick at the thought of what must have happened to the bard trapped inside.

Too late.

Petro circled above him like a vulture, waiting for an opening. Phoenix rolled his shoulders with a wince, shifting into a defensive position. “You’re really okay with this?!” he demanded, “He’s going to destroy everything! Are you so blindly devoted that you’ll let him wipe out everything you’ve known?”

“Even if I wanted to, what do you think I can do to stop it?” Petro snarled back. He gestured at the overtaken keep. Belos slowly crept outwards, his rot rooting itself in the titan’s very bones. “What do you think any of us could do against that?! Face it. You’ve lost. The bard lost, even without me slowing them down. Everyone but him has lost.” He wheeled around in the air, facing away from Phoenix and the keep. “Die now by my hand, or in a few moments by his, little bird,” he said gruffly, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He disappeared in a flash of gold. Phoenix stepped back, edging away from the growing infection. What could he do? He didn’t want to think Petro was right, but there were no more plans. Nothing left to try.

Belos wanted to get back to Caleb once he’d finished wiping out the Isles—but would Caleb even survive? Would Belos somehow be able to spare him?

Would the rest of the family survive even if Belos did manage to somehow keep Caleb alive in all of this?

The keep rumbled, and the infection shot outwards in throbbing, living spikes. Phoenix dove to the side, landing in a clear patch tucked in the shadow of a pillar. Before he could move any further, the rot had completely closed around. Bare patches dotted the ground, but nowhere Phoenix could easily jump to, especially not with his injured ankle—he was stranded in an ocean of waving green anemone.

The mass of green around the keep shifted and bulged, sprouting wings and arms and too many blue eyes to count. Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat, and he shrank back against the pillar to avoid the gaze of those icy blue eyes. His own arms shuddered and flipped back and forth between mud and flesh, as if his curse couldn’t decide whether to fight or to hide. Phoenix leaned against the pillar, his heart doing its best to spear itself on his ribcage.

This can’t be happening.

How do I stop it?

Blue flames arced across the sky, scorching the landscape, and despite himself, Phoenix let out a squeak. Belos had never been able to do that before.

A rush of wind ruffled his hair, and Eda landed next to him, closely followed by Luz, King, and the Collector.

“Phoenix?! What are you doing here?”

Phoenix flinched. “I… sort of got kidnapped? Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave the archive house.”

Collector tapped their fingers together anxiously. “Did you see Hunter? Is he alright? Did Belos get him, too?”

“Hunt—oh, you mean Petro. He’s… fine? But look, about him—”

“Is that Belos?!” Eda yelped.

Phoenix broke off his conversation with the Collector to answer her instead. “Yep. That’s him.”

Luz eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re not—”

Right. He could see where this looked bad. “I’m not the one who brought him here. I swear I wasn’t possessed, Luz. I promise. He… it was sort of a long line of possession, actually. But I wasn’t part of it.”

King waved a hand at the monstrosity that was Belos. “It doesn’t matter who it was! What do we do? There’s no way we can stop that!”

Phoenix’s heart sank. Of course he’d known he couldn’t do much—Petro was right. But he’d hoped… King was a titan. And Eda had whatever this feathery form was. But if they didn’t have any idea what to do either, maybe it was the end of the line.

Collector straightened up. “Yes, there is.” They started to glow, their feet lifting off the floor. “And I know how.”

A spark of hope flared in Phoenix’s chest as they shot through the sky like a star, flicking Belos’ attacks to the side like they were nothing. Last time, Collector had managed to turn Belos into a puddle—sure, he’d survived, but if they could do it again, it would at least buy enough time to figure out a better solution. And this time, they’d know to watch for him. No one would be taken by surprise again.

Collector seemed to collide with Belos in a blinding flash of light, but when the light faded, Phoenix saw that he’d actually stopped short of the monster’s face, floating serenely in the sky.

“No…” Luz murmured, “What is he doing?!”

“I get it now,” Collector said cheerfully, “You just need kindness and forgiveness, huh?”

Collector hugged Belos’ face. Belos seemed almost as surprised as the rest of them, blinking slowly at the child attached to his face.

Phoenix’s jaw dropped. “What did you three say to them?!” he asked frantically.

“Not this!” King protested, “Well—sort of, but Belos?!”

Luz winced. “I’d be so proud of him if it was anytime but now.”

Collector floated away from Belos, turning to face the rest of them. He waved. “Luz, look! We can all be buddies now!”

Belos opened his mouth, blue fire sparking.

“No!” Phoenix leapt forward, desperately dashing through clear patches despite the jolts of pain in his ankle, but he knew already in a sinking, sick feeling, that he wouldn’t make it in time.

“Collector!”

Luz whooshed overhead in a flash of purple and white, and Phoenix stopped to watch her, his breath stopping in his chest.

Belos fired.

Luz’s magic burst purple, dispelling the blue.

Phoenix hissed out a sigh of relief when he saw Luz and the Collector both floating in the aftermath. His legs wobbled, but he stayed up, watching. Something was wrong—he could feel it in an aching in his arms, a loss that hadn’t happened yet.

And Luz started to dissolve into light, green moss overtaking her body and changing her.

“No,” Phoenix whispered, “No, no, no.”

“Luz?” Collector asked in a small voice, “What’s happening?”

Luz slowly turned to look down at Eda and King, tears bubbling in her eyes. “Eda, King. Looks like we're gonna be split up again. I feel like I should be used to this feeling by now, but... I still don't know what to say.”

Every fiber of Phoenix’s body screamed do something, but there was nothing to do except watch. Watch as she disappeared, and her staff clattered to the ground. Watch as Collector grasped for her hand, catching a tiny ball of light. Watch as Eda and King stared in horror where Luz used to be. Collector slowly drifted down next to them. “Where’d she go?”

Phoenix stumbled his way back to the rest, wishing he could say something to Eda and King, but his voice died in his throat. What could he say?

It should have been me.

I should have stopped Belos earlier

If I’d gone for him instead of Petro

If I’d tried to push him off the star on the way, something

“Luz?” Collector said with a wobbly, nervous smile, “Luz? Yoo-hoo! You can come out now!”

Phoenix still couldn’t say anything, and the same was happening to Eda and King—they just stared blankly where Luz had disappeared.

Collector kept that same smile on their face. “Well, it's okay. She just broke, so I'll fix her.” He snapped his fingers, but the glow just dissipated. He snapped again. “What? Why isn't it working?” He kept snapping, each snap more frantic than the last. “The Archivists aren't here. They couldn't have taken her.”

Phoenix’s heart tore in his chest. He didn’t understand—of course he didn’t. He thought they were toys to be fixed.

Belos took aim again, and this time, King leapt in front of the Collector with a shout.

No, Phoenix thought dizzily, turning too slow, too slow.

But King’s shout formed a shield, glyphs glowing on its surface. He’d grown bigger, more… feral looking, his eyes and mouth glowing to match Belos’. He roared.

Collector wandered back, tugging at Eda. “Owl Lady, you know where Luz is, right?”

Eda gently pushed him to the side, her feathers lengthening, and her body hunching. “Back up, kid. I don’t think I can control myself right now.”

Collector turned slowly to Phoenix, his bottom lip trembling. “Phoenix?” he asked softly, “Is she really gone?”

“I…” Phoenix’s legs finally gave out on him, and he collapsed to his knees while Eda and King charged towards Belos, roaring. “I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t understand.” Collector’s voice wobbled, and he scooted closer to Phoenix. “I don’t understand, Belos broke you and you came back. Why can’t Luz come back?”

“Oh, Collector,” Phoenix sighed. He reached out, pausing. “…Permission to touch?”

Collector sniffed. “What’s that mean?”

“It means… it means I want to comfort you, but I don’t know if you want to be touched right now. I know I lied to you, and it hurt you, and… if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

Collector scrubbed at their face. “It’s okay.”

Phoenix gently took the Collector’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “I…”

“You came back,” Collector repeated, “Why can’t she?”

Phoenix sighed again. “When Belos hurt me… some very special people found me, and they… they helped me. They put me back together, and… they made sure I was safe. They took care of me. I was lucky,” he continued softly, “Very lucky. But… that was an exception. And… people don’t usually come back.”

Collector looked back up at Eda and King, whose attacks seemed to just bounce off of Belos. As enormous as Eda’s beast form was, she was still miniscule compared to Belos, and King was even smaller.

“It’s not doing anything,” Collector whispered in horror, “It’s just—it’s not beating him. They’re going to lose—can’t they see?”

Phoenix squeezed Collector’s hand. “It’s all they can do,” he said softly. That sinking, hopeless feeling was back. Even powered up, they couldn’t do anything. Phoenix was useless in this fight. And Luz…

Eda scooped King up just before one of Belos’ attacks could hit him, landing behind Phoenix and Collector. She roared her fury, but before she could attack again, Collector broke away from Phoenix and waved his arms in front of her.

“No, please stop! Run away!” Collector snapped his fingers. “Why isn't anything working?”

Phoenix limped up behind him. Mold sprouted on Collector’s hands.

No

No.

I won’t let this happen again!

“Collector—”

Collector’s eyes filled with tears. “I don't want anyone else to go away. I don't want anyone else to go missing!” He turned to Phoenix with a desperate look on his face. “I'm sorry for everything! I’m sorry!” The tears started to pour down, and he scrubbed at his face. “What is this stuff? Why won’t it stop?”

Phoenix reached for his shoulder, but Collector collapsed to his knees, hiccupping hysterically. “No! No, no, no, no! Get off of her!”

Phoenix looked down and saw mold growing on Eda’s feet. It crusted on his own boots as well, chewing at the leather. His arms bubbled in response, the mud burning and eating at his shoulders, as if trying to climb away from his infested feet.

Not now

But the curse didn’t care—it was stressed and hungry, and Phoenix was too tired and too scared to fight it off. Phoenix’s vision blurred, but he could feel the ground tremble, and he looked  up just in time to see Belos raising one massive hand to crush them all.

No.

Phoenix blinked back the fuzziness, pushed back the exhaustion, and leapt forward, scooping Collector and King up in his arms and shielding them with his body. It wouldn’t help. He knew, deep down, that when that hand came down, it would crush them underneath him. But he had to do something, even knowing it was over. Phoenix braced himself.

The blow never came. Purple light pulsed around them, and Belos drew back with a screech.

Collector gasped, pushing around Phoenix. “It can’t be…?”

Through the clouds of dust, glyphs burned and shifted, swirling around a figure in the center. Phoenix squinted, trying to see past the light. King shrank a little, and his eyes lost their glowing. Finally, the fog cleared, and Luz grinned, her glyphs coming to a halt around her. “I’m back!”

She wasn’t the same Luz who’d disappeared. Her eyes had gone purplish black with glowing gold irises. Horns matching King’s sprouted from her head, claws lengthened her hands. But it was her. Phoenix’s heart thumped in his chest. This was impossible—she’d disappeared, she’d turned into light. Maybe Belos really had killed them all, and now they were reuniting with Luz. But Belos still loomed over them, and the Isles hadn’t disappeared, so…

The glyphs faded away and Luz tugged on her hat nervously. “I—wait. Uh. Couldn’t keep me away from… hang on.” She groaned. “I still can’t think of anything to say,” she complained.

King leapt out of Phoenix’s arms and to Eda, who shrank back down to her feathered, but smaller, form with a grin. “It’s Luz alright!”

Belos roared, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Before he could attack again, Luz waved her staff. A bubble of light, shining with glyphs on its surface, formed around the five of them. It slowly rose into the air, then slammed into the sky with a jerk, sending everyone inside tumbling around. Phoenix tucked his arms in close to his chest to avoid touching anyone with his volatile curse. Out of immediate danger, the mud subsided a bit, but the bone-weary exhaustion stayed.

The ball shuddered to a halt, and Luz grinned sheepishly. “Whoa! Overshot it a little. Still… getting used to these powers!”

Belos snarled up at them, and the head of the titan started to twist. On top, the archive house shook, sliding down.

“The archive house,” Eda gasped, “Everyone inside—”

Jason, Ghost, Darius… and whoever else Collector had caught. They’d be defenseless up there, unable to move and get away. If the fall didn’t kill them, Belos’ rot would.

“Leave it to me,” Collector said confidently. They held a hand out. “…Phoenix? Will you come with me?”

Phoenix nodded, taking his hand. A star formed beneath them, breaking out of the bubble.

“Hey—” Phoenix turned back to the bubble. “There was a bard inside the keep when everything… exploded.”

Eda started. “A bard?”

“Yeah—I don’t know what you’re planning, and I know you have to stop this fast, but if you have a second…”

Luz squeezed Eda’s hand. “We’ll find them,” she promised.

The star took off. Phoenix sat down with a whump, and a glowing strand of blue energy wrapped around his waist. Collector gave him a crooked, apologetic smile. “I know you always wished they came with seatbelts.”

Phoenix gestured to Collector’s hands. The mold had spread up their wrists. “Hey…”

They hid their hands in their sleeves. “I can do this. We can do this.”

Phoenix met their gaze. They were so small—but determination flashed in those orange eyes. Phoenix still didn’t know what Luz had said to him, but whatever it was, it was working. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The tip of the titan’s horn snapped, and the archive house plummeted. Collector stood on the star, tendrils of purple light snatching the points of the house and holding it steady. Below them, Phoenix could see Luz’s friends and a woman he didn’t recognize snatching puppets off the shelves and moving them safely to the floor.

The seatbelt released, and with a wrinkle of Collector’s nose, Phoenix floated off the star and drifted down to the Archives below, landing so lightly on his feet that even his broken ankle didn’t feel the impact

“Phoenix?!” Hunter yelped, “Is that the Collector?”

“Yes, it’s the Collector, hi, we’re here to help.” Phoenix took a deep breath, holding his hands up. “Please don’t freak out, I promise I’m not possessed, it’s just very simi—”

A puppet tumbled down off the shelves, jarred by the shaking, and Phoenix reached out instinctively, his arms lengthening and safely snatching them out of the air.

The kids stared at him, mouths open, and Phoenix held his hands up again. “Not possessed! Promise!”

Another puppet fell, and the woman Phoenix didn’t recognize activated an ice glyph, creating a slide for them to roll down. “Hi, Phoenix, I’m Camila. Jason told us a lot about you; it’s so nice to finally meet you. Do you mind giving us a hand?”

Phoenix nodded, slinging one hand up to a higher shelf and pulling himself to the top. He gently untangled the puppet there from the pegs holding them in place and lowered them down to Camila.

“What’s going on out there?” the purple-haired girl (Amity? Phoenix was pretty sure that was her name) asked anxiously, “Is that Belos out there? Is Luz okay? Did you see her?”

“Luz is…”  Phoenix searched for the right word. “…alive?”

Amity’s face paled.

“She’s fine!” he added quickly, “Luz is fine, it’s just—a lot’s happened. Honestly, I’m still figuring it out myself. Belos… I don’t know, she dissolved into light, but now she’s back, and I think she’s turned into a titan?”

“She what?!” everyone yelped in unison.

Phoenix started to lower himself down to the next niche. “Well—"

A roaring scream emanated from the titan’s chest, grating on Phoenix’s ears. His fingers released the ledge of their own volition, his curse shrinking back into normal flesh. He yelped, snatching uselessly at the ledges.

Hunter appeared in a flash of gold, grabbing his arm and teleporting safely back down to the ground. “Got you.”

“Thanks.” Phoenix limped to the balcony. The glowing ball, the bursts of magic—all signs of Luz had disappeared entirely. “Where…?”

The isles rumbled, and the archive house started to slip again, the green mold at the center of the Isles lashing out desperately.

“She’s still fighting!” Willow cheered.

A flash of purple magic sparked at the heart, and the monster raging at its center stopped, turning grey and slowly crumbling. The head slowly approached—or, rather, the archive house gently floated down to meet it. Collector crashed to the ground with a sigh, and Phoenix fell next to him. “Is it… over?” he whispered.

Collector held up their hands. The moss covering their arms disappeared just like Belos, faded into the wind. “I think so.”

The kids approached, and Collector flinched holding his arms over his head. Phoenix looked up at them, worried. They had every right to be angry. But before he could say anything, Amity held her hand out to Collector, helping them up. Hunter pulled Phoenix to his feet.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Long story,” Phoenix said wearily, “Hey—did you find Jason when you were grabbing puppets? And Ghost?”

“What? We sent Jason back home—did you miss him? And… who’s Ghost?”

“Your new baby sibling.”

“My what?!”

“Yeah, you’re not the youngest anymore.” Phoenix pushed himself onto his own two feet. “Jason and Ghost got caught—we have to find th—”

He swayed, dizzy, and nearly fell on top of Hunter. Willow grabbed his other arm to balance out his weight. “We’ll find them,” she said firmly.

“You look awful,” Amity agreed, “You need to sit down—how long have you been walking on that leg like that?”

“But—” Phoenix protested.

“Hey.” Camila smiled at him, a warm, comforting smile that almost made all his worries about Jason melt away in an instant. “We care about Jason, too. We’ll find him.” She gave the other kids the stink eye. “Don’t think the rest of you are off the hook. You all need rest, too. You’ve had a long couple of days, and just because your legs aren’t broken doesn’t mean you’re in top shape.”

“I know where all the unpuppets can meet up!” Collector declared, “You can wait for mini you there, Phoenix!”

“But—”

Before Phoenix could finish his sentence, they snapped their fingers, and the ruined storage room disappeared, replaced by a cracked, but mostly intact foyer. Phoenix slumped against a pillar, sliding to the ground and closing his eyes. They were right. He knew that. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay up on his injured leg, and the curse howled hungrily inside of him. He needed to conserve strength until he could get something to eat, or take an extended nap. Running around the archive house looking for Jason and Ghost would probably just result in his curse going wild and creating a new problem for everyone to deal with.

That didn’t mean he liked it. His chest ached, wishing desperately that they’d find Jason and Ghost soon, or that Darius would be freed quickly. Phoenix ran over a thousand apologies in his mind to distract from the ache in his chest, none of them as thorough and perfect as Darius deserved.

The archive house slowly filled with dull murmurs. When Phoenix opened his eyes, he saw a few newly-freed witches skirting around him with nervous glances. His gaze slowly slid down to the myriad of cuts and bruises mottling his skin. He could feel more on his back rubbing rawly against the pillar, mementos of his latest trip out the archive house window. He probably did look like someone to steer clear of.

Still, even the witches dressed in healers’ blue avoided him.

The conversation bubbled up as more and more freed citizens reunited with family members and friends. All around Phoenix, tearful shouts of joy rose up, making the ache in his chest worse. And then, two new voices rose above the rest, calling familiar names.

“Clara? Ram?”

Phoenix opened his eyes. Two witches pushed through the crowd, scanning every face anxiously.

“Excuse me,” one begged another witch, “Have you seen two kids? One about this high, she’s eight, and another shorter, about five? Our children, we’re looking for them. Please—”

Phoenix creaked to his feet, limping towards them. “Hey—Clara and Ram—I know where they are.”

One of the witches grabbed his arm. “You saw them?” he asked, “Are they safe? Where are they?”

“Hexside.” Even as he said it, Phoenix started to doubt himself. Had they made it? If their parents hadn’t found them here, then they must have escaped the Collector, but had they made it to Hexside? And what about Belos? Had anyone survived his onslaught outside of the archive house?

“Hexside? Why would they be there?”

Phoenix shook himself. They were fine. They’d made it. “They weren’t with the Collector—some family of mine took care of them. They were taken to Hexside for safety.”

The witch released his arm. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His partner inclined their head in a gracious nod. “We’ll go after them. Hey—are you alright?”

Phoenix realized he was swaying on his feet, and he blinked. “Oh. I’m… I’ll be alright. I just need to sit down.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?”

The first witch shifted anxiously, glancing at the door, and Phoenix realized that these witches couldn’t be much older than he was. They’d been separated from their family, just like him. Even though the panicky witch’s sigil matched the healing coven, he couldn’t even think of asking him to stay, despite the aches and pains tearing at him. They needed to leave. He shook his head.

“Go find Clara and Ram. Or—well—if you see anyone who looks like me at Hexside, could you tell them I’m alright, and I’ll be there soon?”

The anxious witch nodded, relief flitting across his face. “And… who should we say sent the message?”

“Phoenix.”

“Thank you, Phoenix,” the calmer witch said, “Thank you for looking out for them.”

The two melted back into the crowd, and Phoenix found a new place to sit—this time, a proper bench. Odalia waltzed by, sulking in a corner. A low growl rumbled in Phoenix’s throat, but he leaned back against the wall again with a sigh. She wasn’t worth it. The Hexside kids filed in, running to adults Phoenix assumed were their parents. Across the room, he saw Darius surprise Hunter, and his heart throbbed in his throat, choking him. He closed his eyes again, as if putting the two out of sight would make him forget they were there.

What do I say to him?

“You look shorter than I remember.”

Phoenix’s eyes shot open. There he was, with Hunter next to him looking oh-so-pleased with himself. Flesh and blood, not a puppet, but Darius, really Darius, standing in front of him with a small, sad, nervous smile. Any plans for what he could say, any possible responses he’d thought of fled his mind in an instant.

“You look older than I remember,” he shot back, lurching to his feet, “I… Darius, I’m sorry.” The words flowed out in a torrent, one after the next in an unstoppable river. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I’m sorry I just disappeared with no warning. I’m—”

Darius held one hand up. “I heard already.”

Phoenix stopped midsentence. “What?”

“Near Eda’s cage. When I was a puppet. I remember it all. I heard your apology, and… I do want the explanation you promised. But for now, there’s no need to apologize again. I know. I’m just… happy you’re alive.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Darius’ hands opened and closed, like he wasn’t sure whether to give Phoenix a hug, or prepare for a combat lesson.

“So… Hunter tells me it’s Phoenix now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I changed my name. Felt right.” Phoenix fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other, completely forgetting about his injured ankle and almost immediately crumpling like a used napkin.

Darius jumped forward to catch his arms. “You look awful,” he said thickly, tears springing to his eyes, “What happened to you? Where have you been?”

Phoenix’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, his own eyes spilling over. “It’s—it’ll be a long explanation,” he replied hoarsely, “There’s been so much going on—and I’ve missed you. Every second, I wished I could see you again. Ask what you thought. Help you through it all. But look at you!” The tears had become an unstoppable rain, and Phoenix was surprised his arms hadn’t turned to mud from the proud sadness. “You got through it! You fought back against Belos! You made new allies! And you didn’t need me for any of it—you did all that on your own. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud.”

“I did need you,” Darius protested, “I did it all for you. To make sure no one else I cared about disappeared.”

Phoenix heard a snuffle, and he glanced over to see Hunter suspiciously misty-eyed, and looking up at the ceiling to hide it.

“Jason would love this,” Hunter mumbled when he noticed Phoenix and Darius looking, “He’d probably have some book reference about it and everything. Where is he?”

A slow horror crept over Phoenix. “Didn’t—didn’t you find him? Where is he? And Ghost?”

Hunter’s posture stiffened. “What are you talking about? He wasn’t with the other puppets—we thought the Collector found him before we did and sent him here already! He didn’t find you?!”

Phoenix shook his head. “I haven’t seen him!”

“Who’s Jason?” Darius interjected.

“He’s—he’s Hunter and I’s brother, one of the people who took me in after Belos… but if I haven’t seen him, and you haven’t seen him…”

“Maybe he went home,” Hunter suggested, “If he didn’t know you were here, he might have taken Ghost and gone back to meet up with the rest of the family.”

“There is no home,” Phoenix said bleakly, “It’s destroyed now.” He passed a hand over his face. “He could have gone to Hexside, I suppose. He knew that’s where everyone was supposed to meet up.”

“I could get us there,” Hunter offered, “Flap and I—we can fly you to Hexside to check.”

Phoenix glanced back at Darius, words failing in his mouth. “I…”

Darius gave him a pained smile. “Go. Find your brother. Make sure he’s safe. I’ve waited thirty years, I can wait a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” Phoenix whispered, “And—I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything soon, I promise.”

“Go. Oh—and Phoenix? If you and your family don’t have a place to stay, my home is open. Hunter knows where it is, he’s fond of sending ravens at untitanly hours of the night.” He gave Hunter a smile that took the bite out of the words.

“Uh—Are you sure about that?” Hunter asked nervously, “There’s… a lot of them.”

“Of course I am. That includes you, Hunter. You’re welcome any time.”

Hunter looked like he wanted to protest further—maybe by giving a more exact estimate of exactly how many “a lot” was, but he just shrugged and summoned his staff. “We’ll be back soon,” he promised Darius, and crinkled his nose at Phoenix. “I’ll fly low and slow, don’t worry.”

“You’re still afraid of heights?” Darius asked.

“With the number of windows I’ve been thrown through recently?” Phoenix joked, sitting next to Hunter, “I better be.”

Hunter took off, and Darius shrank down behind them until he was gone from sight entirely. Hunter’s definition of “low and slow” was a little higher and faster than Phoenix was entirely comfortable with, but it would get them to Hexside quickly, so he just looked up at the sky instead of at the rushing ground below them.

“Am I doing the right thing?” he asked, “Leaving him again, I mean. I’m worried about Jason, but I don’t want to hurt him again. And just ditching him without much explanation all over…”

Hunter shrugged. “He’s fine with it—or at least it’s not a dealbreaker for him. I think he needs some space to figure out how he feels, and he wants you to have that space, too.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s a two-way street,” Hunter replied quietly, “Yeah, you’re leaving. But he didn’t offer to come with you, either.”

“Oh.” Phoenix’s chest felt hollow inside. He’d spent so long worrying about what he’d say to Darius, and how to explain it all, that he’d never thought about what they would do after. They couldn’t just go back to the way things had been—Darius had progressed far past the point of needing a mentor, and Phoenix was too much younger than him to fill that role now anyway. So what next?

He and Hunter sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, just passing over the Isles. One of the titan’s hands was outstretched to the sky now—Phoenix winced at the thought of anyone who had lived there previously. There was about to be a lot of rebuilding.

“So,” Hunter said finally, breaking the silence, “Your arms. It’s… like his curse?”

Phoenix looked down at his hands, normal for now, but with no telling how long that would last. “Yeah.”

Hunter nodded, taking a deep breath. “Does it… hurt much?”

Phoenix nodded. “Kind of burns, like it’s eating my skin. And when I use it…” he rubbed his aching elbows.

“Your joints and bones feel like they’re stretched out?” Hunter finished quietly, “Worn? Achy?”

“Yeah,” Phoenix said again, “I… guess you’d know.”

Hunter nodded, and another silence fell between the two of them, but this one lasted only a few moments before Hunter burst out, “It wasn’t your fault. That it happened to you.” He looked back at Phoenix with strangely desperate eyes, “You know that, right? You know it isn’t your fault, and you don’t deserve it, right? It’s his fault. Not yours.”

Tears crowded into Phoenix’s eyes, and a weight he didn’t know was crushing him fell off his shoulders, like he’d been absolved of some sin with just those simple words. It’s his fault. Not yours. You didn’t deserve it. Hunter didn’t know the full story—how he’d kept the infection secret, and lied about how he was until it was too much—but still, his pardon rang true. Phoenix looked down at his hands again, losing the fight against the tears.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I know. And—you too. It wasn’t your fault, either. Any of it. You didn’t deserve it any more than I did. Probably even less.”

“It wasn’t our fault,” Hunter echoed softly.

Hexside slowly came into view, still standing and, to Phoenix’s relief, crawling with life. Hunter swooped down, landing without a single bump. He clutched his staff tightly, and Phoenix noted that Flapjack didn’t spring to life. Gashes ran through the palisman’s chest, tearing through the red wood.

“Is… Flapjack okay?”

“Um.” Hunter looked at the ground. “He… hasn’t woken up since Belos tried to kill him. I was hoping—I was hoping, you know, he was Caleb’s palisman first. Maybe he could help fix Flapjack.”

“Let’s find him, then,” Phoenix said briskly.

“Phoenix! Hunter!” Viney waved from a window, jumping out and letting Puddles catch her on her way down. “Hey! Phoenix! How do you look even worse than the last time I saw you? Geeze. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Before Phoenix could protest, Puddles scooped him up in her beak, bounding through the halls and depositing him with a sudden halt onto a cot. The healing homeroom—he recognized it from his last time here. Hushed murmurs that sounded like an argument emanated from behind a curtain sectioning off a corner of the room.

“Gentle, Puddles! Gentle!” Viney climbed off her griffin’s back. “Sorry. Let’s take a look at that leg, shall we? Nice splint, though, very practical, if unorthodox.”

“Luz.”

“That’d do it. Nice to see she was paying attention in healing class.” Viney cut the boot off, ‘tsk’ing over his foot. “I’ll get the plaster. And some crutches for you—hey, you’re not putting weight on that for at least a two weeks, you hear me? And that’s if you have regular healing sessions.”

“I’ll try.”

Viney bustled off.

“I’m not doing it,” a different, but familiar voice snapped. The curtain in the corner flew open, and Dagger rolled out in a wheelchair, chased by an exasperated healing student holding a cast saw, “Go away.”

“You have to trust me!” the student wheedled, “I promise I’ll be gentle. Hey—you can’t do it on your own!”

“Watch me.”

Phoenix sighed. “Dagger, you’re not a healer. He is. Let him help.”

Dagger came to an abrupt halt. “Oh,” he said poisonously, “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Phoenix agreed, “Where is everyone?”

“Off using their fully functional legs, I assume.” Dagger crossed his arms. “You just had to copy me, huh? Getting me crushed in a cave wasn’t enough, now you had to go and screw up your leg, too? Not enough broken bones in the family for you?”

Phoenix sputtered. He hadn’t been prepared for quite this much aggression, not even from Dagger. “I—whoa, hey. I didn’t ask to get my ankle broken!”

“And I didn’t ask for you to forget me in a cave and never come back for me, yet here we are.” Dagger started to roll away. “I hope you didn’t expect the red carpet welcome from me.”

“That’s not fair,” Phoenix protested, “I didn’t forget you! I sent someone to get you!”

Dagger swiveled the chair around in a single, sharp movement. “You sent a stranger, someone I’d never met before, someone who could have been a threat, to find me when I was totally helpless. And you think I should be grateful?”

“I trusted Viney.”

“Well, I had no reason to.” Dagger turned his chair back towards the door, wheeling out. “Whatever. Welcome back, Phoenix. If you want someone who’s happy to see you, go find Dad.”

The healing student chased after him. “W-wait, I still have to—”

The door closed behind them. Viney set down her supplies with a whump. “Well. I can see you’re having a fun family reunion. He was pretty freaked out when I got to him. Don’t think he’s very trusting. But, hey, injuries can bring out the worst in people, and mind injuries are even worse. Don’t take it too personally. He called me some very unflattering things before. I woulda socked him if he wasn’t injured.” She moved quickly and efficiently, her magic moving his leg so imperceptibly softly that he didn’t feel a thing. “Aaaaaand last touch!” She slapped a healing patch on the cast, and Phoenix’s leg went numb. “To speed up the healing. I want you to see someone twice a week until it’s healed all the way.” She drew another circle in the air, sticking her hands through the loop until they glowed, then moving her glowing hands over his cuts and bruises. The relief was almost instantaneous, the little aches and tears disappearing in a heartbeat.

“What happened up there? We saw the Archive House fall from the sky. And, of course, there was the mold, and the titan moving… but that’s all okay now?”

“It was Belos. He came back, he tried to destroy us. But… we’re still here.”

“And he’s not? Are we sure this time?”

Phoenix opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. “I… don’t actually know.”

“He’s gone this time,” Hunter answered from the door, “Amity sent me a message—Luz ripped him out of the titan’s heart, and he collapsed in the boiling rain.”

“Nothing survives the boiling rain!” Viney remarked cheerfully.

Hunter frowned, sitting down in an open chair. “Selkidomus do. And Titans. And a lot of flora. Oh, and me, so I guess that’s a grimwalker thing. And—”

Caleb appeared in the doorway, bruised and battered, but alive. “Phoenix!” He rushed in, his hands fluttering anxiously over Phoenix’s booted ankle. “What happened to your leg? Are you okay? Don’t ever do that again!”

Phoenix winced. “Sorry. Um. Have you seen Jason and Ghost?”

The color drained from Caleb’s face. “The Collector didn’t catch them?”

“He did! But he’s been freeing people and—they haven’t made it back here?”

Caleb shook his head. “I haven’t seen them—I was hoping you had. They’re not the only ones missing, either. Venari, Silver, and A.T. didn’t make it to Hexside.”

“We had to split up to avoid the spies,” Viney piped up, “Most of the groups made it, but a few stragglers didn’t.”

“And Evelyn and I got trapped in the rubble of the house,” Caleb continued, “We got here late. Just before the…” He shuddered. “Anyway. Evelyn went out looking for them after the mold cleared. I went, too, but I checked the house—what’s left of it—and Bonesborough while she searched the woods, so she hasn’t come back yet.”

“Well… I’m sure Jason and Ghost are just taking a while because they were walking?” Hunter suggested, “I can fly out and look for them. Um. But first, I was wondering…” he offered Flapjack to Caleb. Deep cracks ran up the palisman’s chest and wings, marring the red wood. “Do you… know how to fix him? He’s working as a staff, but he won’t come back to life.” His voice cracked miserably. “I just want him to wake up again.”

Caleb delicately took Flapjack’s still body from Hunter. “I can try. It’s strange, though. Usually, when a palisman is injured, they just need to be near their witch, and the wound should heal up on its own.”

“Maybe it’s because Flapjack is yours and not mine,” Hunter said dully, “Maybe he needs you to heal.”

Caleb shook his head vehemently. “Hunter, Flapjack chose you. He’s as much your palisman as he ever was mine. I’m sure it has more to do with how he got injured.” Caleb glanced at Phoenix. “Injuries from Belos… don’t always behave the same way as normal injuries.”

“So… what do we do?”

Caleb’s foot tapped a thoughtful beat against the ground. “I might have an idea, but for it to work, I’m going to need some tools, and some palistrom wood. Viney, does Hexside have anywhere that served as a carving center?”

“Sure, but it’s been vacant for years because of the shortage. The only palistrom wood you’ll find there is shavings and sawdust.”

“That works fine. Show us, please?”

Viney shrugged, and led the way. Phoenix hopped up on the crutches, swinging slowly after the three of them. He wanted to go out and look for Jason (and the others), but Hunter had been waiting for this. It was only fair, especially given how Flapjack had gotten injured.

Viney pushed open a creaky wooden door, carved with a hammer and chisel in the center. Dust covered every surface in the lightless room, choking the air.

Hunter ran a finger through the dust, leaving a thick line. “What are we looking for?”

“Sawdust. Shavings.” Caleb opened a cabinet. “Wood glue, if there’s any here that’s still good.”

Phoenix hobbled from table to table, looking for any hint of blue in all the grey dust. Viney threw open giant curtains, flooding the workshop with light. “Whoa.” She scratched under the chin of her own palisman. “I can’t even imagine this many people carving their own palisman instead of adopting.”

“We used to have quite the program.” Principal Bump hobbled in. “A Clawthorne used to run a workshop, teaching students the basics if they were interested in carving their own palisman.”

A proud grin twitched across Caleb’s face. “Yeah? A Clawthorne?”

Viney’s face lit up. “Principal Bump! You’re back! Did you see your statue?”

A single, proud tear rolled down his face. “I did. I was touched to see the effort my students put into creating it. But what are you all doing in the carving classroom? Belos may be gone, but it’s a little early to start planning the revival of a near-extinct tree species.”

“Palisman repair,” Caleb said, “Do you have any wood shavings, or sawdust?”

Bump shuffled to a wall, pushing a panel and popping out a secret drawer. He removed a small, red box, this one with a bird carved into it. “When it became apparent that the trees were disappearing at a rapid rate, Dell and I would sweep up the shaving and save them after classes. I didn’t know what they could possibly be used for, but it seemed like a crime for even the shavings of such a precious resource to be wasted.” He proffered the box. “I don’t know why you need them, but if they will help you restore your palisman, then they are yours.”

Caleb took the box, opening it slowly, as if opening it too quickly might make it disappear. Blue shavings and blue dust lined the bottom.

“It’s so little,” Hunter whispered. He held a bottle of wood glue so tightly Phoenix thought it might burst in his grip, “There’s barely anything.”

“It’s enough,” Caleb replied. He rescued the wood glue from Hunter’s grasp, squeezing some into a small bowl and mixing in shavings and sawdust until it turned a grainy blue. He filled in the cracks with the paste, and handed Flapjack back to Hunter. “Here. Wait for the glue to dry before you try to use the staff.”

“Will it work?”

“I can’t say for sure. But it’s the best I can do. Talk to him. Dormant palisman can hear you—help him remember who he is.”

Phoenix swung out of the room, hobbling down what seemed like infinite stairs on his way out. Mole sat in a patch of vegetables outside, but when he saw Phoenix, he abandoned his weeding to chase after.

“I don’t know where Jason is. I’m going to look for him. Want to come?”

Mole nodded, slowing his pace to keep step with Phoenix. The crutches clacked and echoed on the empty streets of Bonesborough, but the sounds faded as the cobblestones turned to dirt paths. Mole darted to the side in the forest, running to check further away from Phoenix in the more difficult terrain but always coming back to him.

Phoenix’s ears twitched, picking up a slight rustle, and he clumsily whirled to face it, nearly falling over. “Who’s there?” he called, “Jason? That you?”

Mole loped back to his side, squinting suspiciously at the red underbrush.

Venari stumbled out, cradling one arm to their chest and limping. A gash ran up the side of their leg, bleeding sluggishly, and their eyes stared right through Phoenix, wild and angry.

Mole jumped forward to take their uninjured arm, wrapping one arm around their back and making gentle shushing noises. Phoenix hopped forward towards them, horror creeping over him.

“Venari—”

They slumped against Mole, heavy breathing turning into a weary sigh. Mole half-dragged them up the path, and Phoenix dropped his crutches to help. He limped and dragged his casted foot behind him, but between the two of them, they managed to get the semi-conscious Venari back to Hexside. Cherry met them at the door, scooping Venari up and carrying him inside. Meleager, Horus, and Hamlet all tripped over his heels like a pack of dogs, following him to the healing homeroom. Mole darted off, and moments later, Caleb came running down the hallway, disappearing into the healing room after everyone. Phoenix followed, earning a dirty look from Viney who stomped off and returned moments later with another set of crutches that she passive-aggressively shoved into his chest.

Meleager, Horus, and Hamlet crowded around the student healer working with Venari, watching him like a hawk.

“What happened?” Horus demanded, “Who did this?”

Phoenix could see the answer on Venari’s face before they even opened their mouth, and his heart sank down to his stomach.

“Belos,” Venari spat, “Or—Petro? Belos is puppeteering him again.” His eyes slid around the room, finally locking on Caleb. “He has everyone—A.T., Silver, Jason, Ghost—and Mom.”

Caleb sagged like a ton of boulders had been dropped on him, gripping the back of a chair for support. A scream of rage tore through the air, and Mole buried his face in his arm, letting out another, more muffled scream. Before Phoenix could move to comfort him, he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A.T., Silver, Jason, Ghost… besides Hunter, the youngest of the family. Phoenix’s stomach churned. He’d targeted them deliberately. He must have taken Jason and Ghost from the archive house before the Collector could free them—had it been Petro on his own, after he’d left Phoenix, or had Belos taken them both back there? Either way, he should have stopped Petro there. He should have yanked him out of the air, or thrown a rock at his head, or something. He never should have let him get away. Of course. Hunter had said it; Grimwalkers could survive in the rain. Belos must have survived by possessing Petro again after Luz had assumed he was dead.

“How’d you escape?” Caleb whispered, “How did you get away?”

Phoenix knew the answer. And he could see that Caleb did, too, but wasn’t letting himself think it.

“I didn’t,” Venari grated out, “He let me go. He wanted me to bring you a message.” Phoenix could see the rage bubbling in their eyes, helpless fury at the role he’d been forced to play. “He said to meet him back at the house tomorrow morning. You especially, and all of us as well, to make sure we’re not up to any tricks. And he said if we don’t…”

Caleb let out a shuddering breath. “I know, Venari, don’t say it—”

“If we don’t, he’ll kill them one by one until we're there.”

[waterfire1848]

[ The Owl House group trying to convince the Collector that Belos is on the Boiling Isles. ]

The Collector: Impossible! I killed him.

Hunter: If he was dead, we would be hearing the sound of children singing in the streets.

[merchantarthurn]

I wish so badly I knew how to record things cos lemme tell you so many of these hours were absolute bangers of unique narrative-through-combat, sheer bloody cheek of someone who's Playstyle with RPGs is always 'rogue', or the despair/delight of saying exactly what astarion was about to say aloud with my human mouth--

[theridgebeyond]

you can tell that The Hands of the Emperor is purely fantasy based on how easy it is to afford and purchase a house

[vvienne]

don’t know how this would work exactly but uh. locked tomb role reversal fic where harrow is emperor, god, necrolord prime, first reborn etcetc. & john is the reverend son of the ninth house

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

That one Soft Pretty Watercolour Style 16th century insta artist absolutely MISSING out on the potential of pouting lips and bedroom eyes 😞😞😳🤡

[alfgifu]

Inktober 20 - told myself that a house was a nice easy thing to draw, then got carried away, le sigh. Self knowledge? What is she?