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THEY HAD RETURNED to the Dying City and barricaded themselves in Axion's rooms to discuss what came next. Abby sat around a table, next to Margo, while the former Archmage sat by herself,  running her hand over the tabletop. Strips of wood separated and curled with each pass of her claws. Axion lingered in front of a window, a bottle of dark ale strangled in his hand. In front of them, an image of Lucy, brought to life by a stone Margo had pulled from her pack, which she had used frequently in her days of being the Dawn Queen's spy, stalked back and forth.

He had wanted to join them, but Reven refused to let him leave Aelurus. Reports had landed on his desk that spoke of rising tensions between the Moonborns and the Cloudian refugees. Several caravans carrying aid had gone missing in Swift and Harvest territory. Reven suspected the Moonborn Lords and Ladies the perpetrators, that they would rather their crops rot than fill the bellies of Cloudian scum.

Lucy shirked his duty plenty, in favor of more frivolous pursuits, and although Reven had conceded saving magick and all the Eridan a noble endeavor, he could not, in good conscience, allow Lucy to vacate his throne. Doing so would open the realm up to fighting between the houses and possible war, with the Cloudians caught in the middle. 

Begrudgingly, Lucy agreed to stay behind.

Margo had presented their plan - the Shadlings would take asylum in Aelurus and be given half of the territory in the Black Sands, that Lucy had set aside for the Cloudians. And after the realm had been evacuated, the Dusk Stag would be released.

No one spoke of what would happen to the Evernight without the Dusk Stag's magick, but they all knew its fate.

A heavy silence pressed in on them from all sides after Margo had explained her plan. Abby fidgeted with her tunic, Margo stabbed at a few mushrooms, scorched and shriveled and left behind on a serving platter. Calleighdia continued terrorizing the table.

Axion stared at the stars in the Evernight's sky, an unnatural light brightening the horizon. His face was inscrutable, his eyes and skin dark, his stars hidden beneath his clothes. He was as much a shadow as the ones dripping down the walls, and pooling along the floor.

"Well," said Lucy, staring at each miserable face, "While the silence is truly delightful, I'm afraid I have things to tend to." He crossed his arms, his Aelurian muscles bulging under his robes. His fur stuck straight up, agitated. "Being a king and all that."

Abby's gaze shifted to Axion. She wished he would talk, like he had when they'd been in the dungeons, but he'd been quiet since Margo and Calleighdia arrived. She was beginning to think their earlier conversation, where Axion had been unnaturally sincere, had all been a dream.

"Axion," Abby said, slowly. He raised his bottle of ale to his lips, and drank. "You've been quiet, but I think it's only right you tell us what you think. This involves your people after all."

His fingers twitched, a muscle in his jaw tightening. He took another longer sip on his drink, his gaze on the world beyond the window. Abby wondered if perhaps he was drinking it in - this image of his home. Memorizing the shape of every shadow, the curve of every tree bough, the myriad of colors against the ever-present dark backdrop. If she had known her world was going to end the night of her thirteenth birthday, surely she would have done the same- etching every line of her father's face into her mind, so that she wasn't left wondering years later if it was the right side of his face his smile preferred or the left.

"It's a good plan," added Margo. She placed her fork down, and met Abby's gaze. Abby noted her refusal to look Axion in the eyes, even when it was apparent she was talking to him. Axion's words to her in Darkmoore's dungeon no doubt still lingered in her mind. "It saves everyone. With Aelurus's help, the Shadlings will have a new home."

Axion's shoulders stiffened. A red glow peeked out from his collar. He threw his head back and downed the remaining ale.

"Because the environment in Aelurus is similar to the Evernight, the native flora ought to adjust well," interjected Lucy. His image floated over the table, the hem of his transparent robe blanketing Margo's plate.

"Yes." Axion tossed his bottle. It shattered, pieces of dark glass littering the ground around him. Abby grimaced. "Its truly marvelous, what your highness has managed to cobble together." His words were biting, Axion's eyes burning like twin suns. "My people, ousted from their homeworld, never to return again, gifted a small plot of undesirable desert on the outskirts of a foreign kingdom, where they will be met with open hostility from the locals. What a future you have given them."

Lucy's mouth tensed. His ears twitched in annoyance. "Forgive me," he said, planting a hand on top of his chest, "I didn't realize while you were drinking your castle dry that you had thought of a better plan." The chill in Lucy's voice made Abby flinch. "Enlighten us, Shadow King, as to how you will save your people from certain death?"

"And there it is," Axion spat. "Aelurus's teeth. My word, you're exactly the kind of king those beasts need." He leaned in, and flashed his teeth. Lucy snarled in response, his fangs dipped in the golden light of his moon. "Your mother would be proud."

Lucy whirled, his tail sweeping the floor as he stormed away. "If it were up to me, I'd let you fade away with your realm, but–" He glanced back at Abby.

Axion followed his eyeline, snickering when he found Abby at the end of it. "Does a king not have the final say in what happens in his kingdom?"

A predatory growl rose from Lucy's throat. He extended his claws, eyes narrowed.

Axion grinned. "I believe I've made his majesty angry." He pointed at Lucy's claws. "Do retract those, your highness, they wouldn't be effective now anyway."

"We should have left you to rot in Darkmoore's dungeon."

Abby got to her feet, slamming her hands on the table. "Lucian, that's enough." Lucy turned away from her, his claws slowly retracting. "And you–" She faced Axion, who gave a snort before returning his gaze to the Evernight. "Now is not the time for–"

Behind her, Calleighdia cackled. Abby turned, and the focus of the room shifted to the former Archmage. She continued to laugh, despite the attention, tears forming in her eyes.

"What's her problem?" Lucy sat at the edge of a bed, legs crossed, tail flicking annoyingly at the bedsheets.

"It's you all," she said after wiping the tears from her face fur. "You thwarted the former Shadow King's plan. You ousted his Shadling warriors from Aelurus. You put an unworthy and exiled prince on the throne." Her tail thumped against the ground, riling dust into the air. "You nearly caused my destruction and here you are, bickering amongst yourselves, making petty threats and empty gestures of violence. I simply cannot believe it was you all who undid us."

Axion shot her a glare, one of icy eyes, and frozen blue stars. "Perhaps that speaks to your incompetence, Archmage, and not ours."

"It certainly speaks to our follies," admitted Calleighdia. She glanced at her arms, thumb running along a green spiral painted on her greyish-brown fur. "A lack of oversight, an errant belief in ourselves. Our hubris in thinking we were infallible." Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was harsher when next she spoke. "Yet we always managed to overcome our differences for a common goal." She looked at each of them, as if hoping to be challenged. When none came, she shook her head. "The Evernight will be destroyed. There is no getting around it. It has no magick at its core to draw from and sustain it. Had we not retrieved the Dusk Stag, it would have been destroyed, and with it, any hope to save magick and the remaining realms. The decision here, is whether the Shadlings will suffer their realm's outcome."

"They're innocent," Abby offered.

The Archmage's gaze slid over to her. "Is anyone ever innocent, hemma? Do you not have the former Shadow King's blood on your hands?"

"I–"

"The Cloudians carry the guilt of destroying their realm with their own hands, is that not the case, mouse wizardess?"

Margo pursed her lips, her hands balling into fists.

Calleighdia turned to Lucy. "And you, Ben'nessren, I have heard whisperings of a brutal slaying—"

Abby's eyebrows raised. Lucy? Killing someone?

She glanced at him. His eyes were downcast, his ears laid flat against his head. It was the same way he'd looked when he'd stolen chicken from the larder. Abby gulped.

Calleighdia turned her sights on Axion. "And you, Night Prince–"

Axion's shoulders tensed. "You're coated in so much blood, I can smell it." 

"What's any of this got to do with the Shadlings?" asked Abby, annoyed they had gotten so far off topic.

"No one is innocent, that is my point. But if you desire to save the Shadlings, taking asylum in Aelurus is their best option. They can be evacuated within a moon and–"

"Taking advice from my father's former co-conspirator." Axion huffed, head shaking. "We are a pathetic bunch." He stormed out the door without looking back.

Abby rose to her feet. "I'll go."

Margo's mouth pulled into a line. She grabbed Abby's hand and squeezed. "Be careful."

"I will." She squeezed Margo's hand back and released it before chasing Axion into the hall.

Axion was gone and the wall torches remained unlit, forcing Abby to feel her way around. Eventually, the hallway opened up, and a row of arches on her left let the moonlight in. She still hadn't come across Axion. Knowing he could connect the shadows among the Eridan, he very well could have fled the castle altogether.

She came upon a little garden, shoved into a small corner. It was nothing extravagant, and it certainly wasn't as sprawling as the gardens at Darkmoore, but it was quaint. Flowers glowed blue and danced in the wind. Long grasses tickled her ankles as she walked. A row of trees lined a waist-high wall and against one, leaned a shadow.

Abby smiled, settling herself on a nearby bench. Hands clasped in her lap, she gazed up at the moon. "If you're going to call me an idiot for following you, know that it's probably already been thought by everyone in that room."

"Yet no one stopped you?"

She shook her head. "It'd be pointless. Once I decide on something, I'm pretty adamant about seeing it through."

"This isn't the first time you've followed me." Axion remained against the tree, arms folded over his chest.

Abby smiled, remembering her first time in the Evernight. She had fallen into a shadow, and thought she would plummet to her death. But she'd come out unscathed, in the middle of a field of stars. Axion had been there to make sure she was okay, though he had done so after berating her for falling in the first place. Above them glittered those same stars, the Evernight's song whispering in her ear.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"About what?"

"About your home. It's lovely, despite the hungry roots."

A small chuckle escaped Axion, and Abby relaxed, just a bit. Laughing was a good sign.

She took a deep breath. "Axion, the plan is–"

"I don't want to talk about it, not now."

"But–" She swallowed, and bit her lip. "Fine. You don't have to talk. I just... I just don't want you to pull away again. After talking to you about the Dusk Stag and your father— I don't want that to be a distant dream."

Releasing a sigh, Axion took a seat next to her on the bench, his knee brushing against hers, the stars peeking beneath his collar a beautiful gold. "Watch it with me, will you?"

"Sure." She turned her head skyward, the Evernight's stars dancing across the sky. 

Together, they studied them, and memorized the Evernight's song. And if Axion ever had trouble recalling the details of his home, Abby swore to herself, she would be there to help him fill in the gaps.

*

The sun stood high in the sky by the time Abby and Axion returned to his quarters. The sunlight dimmed the Evernight's stars, and greyed its sky and made the whole place look barren and muddy. 

Axion walked beside her. They hadn't spoken much, but the silence between them was comfortable, and Axion's mood seemed to have improve. At the very least, he wasn't hiding his stars. They drifted freely across his cheeks, and freckled his nose. A rose-colored planet enveloped his wrist.

But Abby's ease was short-lived. Back in Axion's room, Lucy was storming around, shaking his head, his tail sweeping furiously back and forth.

"Absolutely not." His voice boomed.

Margo shook her head, curls dipping below her eyes, only to spring back up moments later. "It's not your decision to make. It's mine."

"And you've agreed to this?" Lucy said with a huff.

"It was my idea." The mouse wizardess straightened, her hand closed around her necklace. She breathed out. "It's the only–"

Lucy's footsteps echoed as he stomped over to where Margo stood. It was an odd sight- him see-through, image wavering, Margo fully present, her radiance glowing a defiant orange.

His eyes dipped to Margo's necklace. "You can't ask me to be okay with this." This time his voice was uncharacteristically low, solemn.

She shook her head, averting her eyes. "I know. But," she released her necklace, the stone falling back against her skin, "I will ask you to respect my decision."

Lucy's eyes rose to her face. He reached out, the faint lines of his fingers flickering against her cheek. "Miss Puffs–"

She turned away, light pink weaving its way through her radiance. "I have to."

"Have to do what?"

Margo and Lucy, turned her way. Calleighdia sighed. Axion moved back to his window, his back to them.

Lucy ran to Abby, his hands hovering above hers. "Please, love. You must convince her not to."

She eyed Margo. "Convince her not to?"

"The Hollows," said Axion, his voice matter-of-fact, his back straight, hands balled together at his sides.

Calleighdia nodded. "As the dead's final resting spot, it must be protected."

"So?" Abby's gaze flitted between Margo and Lucy. She didn't understand why either of them looked so grim. Hadn't they just secured a victory? Saving the Shadlings and returning the Dusk Stag to the sky?

Margo frowned, her radiance a dark and gloomy cloud looming over her head. She walked toward Abby, and grabbed her hands. Lucy stalked away.

Smiling, Margo said, "I've already got a plan to save it."

"Okay," said Abby slowly. Dread stuck to the back of her throat, making it hard to swallow. "Which is?"

"Abby," Margo's hold on Abby's hands tightened. She breathed out. "I have enough magick left to–"

A swift, direct hit, like lightning, struck Abby's chest. Her heart felt like it might explode. She jerked her hands free and took a step back.

"It needs to be done," Margo's gaze dipped to her necklace. 

It's almost empty. Enough for a spell or two, Margo had said.

And then she had promised Lucy to never use her magick unless she had to.

She didn't have to.

"Abby, I can do it."

Abby shook her head. "No."

"Miss Puffs is rather adamant about going against her friends' wishes."

Abby turned. Lucy gave a smile and ambled over to his bed, flopping down, tail limp, whiskers drooping. Defeated, Abby thought.

Anger raged beneath her skin. She turned back to Margo. "If you do this, if we let you do this, you'll die."

"I know." Margo beamed, despite the tears making her eyelashes sparkle.

"I won't let you."

"If she won't listen to a king's command," came Axion, who, until then, had kept their back to them, "she won't listen to you." He glanced at Abby, his stars more muted than she'd ever seen them.

They'd accepted it. Abby gaze swept over the room. Calleighdia. Lucy. Everyone had accepted it.

That their friend would die.

Hot tears rolling down her cheeks, Abby threw herself in front of the door, as though her body could keep them in, or keep the horrible reality of their situation out.

"There's got to be another way," she whimpered, her outstretched arms beginning to shake. "And we'll find it. We'll find it, and you won't have to sacrifice yourself after," her voice cracked, "after everything that's happened."

First her parents, then Hestor and Lain. Sebbi. She refused to add Margo's name to a list of the deceased. She would not search the night sky to find Margo's star.

"Abby," Margo's voice was kind, the smile on her face fragile and one caress of the wind shy of shattering. "We don't know what'll happen if the Hollows disappears. It's too risky to leave it unprotected."

"But–"

When Margo's arms wrapped around Abby's waist, the urge to fall into them, overtook her. She squeezed her friend, her precious, lovely friend, her tears falling into Margo's curls.

"Who will eat all the cheese?" Abby asked, her question ending in a sob.

Margo gave a strangled, hollow laugh. "You will," she said, squeezing Abby even tighter. "For the both of us."

For a moment they held each other, their weeping the only thing to keep the silence from settling over the room. And then that was it; everyone filed out of Axion's room, save for the Shadow King himself. No one spoke, no one dared even look at another face. They walked away, their footsteps lonely and echoing in the empty halls.

Abby retreated to her room. The second she was inside, and the door had closed behind her, she sunk to the floor, tears flowing down her cheeks, gasping for air.

Her friend was to die, and there was nothing she could do about it.