It was about time. Chris's heartrate finally slowed down . . . hours later.

Unfortunately, the splitting headache lingered. Gone were the days of pain killers in bottles. He could only hope it would subside once the hunger pangs went away. 

In the firelight, he watched Kale Jokura's nose twitch. He was sleeping with his mat and blanket, only his face exposed, and he was starting to come around.

Chris gave the meat on a skewer one last turn.

The next time Chris looked over, Kale was squinting into the fire. "What are you doing?"

Cooking wasn't the weird part. Cooking before dawn, however, was pretty much unheard of. Even if they weren't sleeping on one of these excursions, rest, in general, was too precious.

Chris shrugged in reply. 

Kale sat up and added his injured arm to the sling across his torso. "What's that?" He pointed out the meat with his nose. "It smells . . . good."

The piece of meat Chris had acquired was huge at their fairy size. He wasn't even cooking all of it at once and there'd be plenty for everyone. "Muskrat."

"You couldn't sleep and you took down a muskrat in the dark? That must have been some nightmare."

Chris had nightmares so often, he couldn't fool anyone, not even someone as thick and inattentive as Kale. Chris didn't bother to admit or deny anything. He wasn't going to talk about it—not here, not now, not ever. He kept his eyes on the food until it was cooked to his satisfaction.

"Here. It's done." Chris forked some meat onto a clean rock slab and handed it to Kale. "And let's get going soon. Something big is gonna happen today. I have a feeling."

More like a haunting premonition. . .

In truth, time of day was of little consequence to Kale when it came to food he didn't have to forage for or prepare. He dug right in and barely came up for air. He looked awkward, though, using only his left hand. 

"How's that arm?" Chris asked.

"I'll live. I can feel the fever creeping up, though. It's good we'll be home today."

Chris nodded. Home. As always, it was a question more than an answer. . . . 

When they finished eating, they Modified to their human size and left for Ilima. They arrived a little after mid-morning and hid their human packs in an underground vault, protected by key and hidden in a dense area of plant-growth.

To enter the Zone of Protection, they had to return to their fairy size. They stepped into the invisible dome that recognized their identity in a very specific area, one of those mystifying features of Scott MacRae's magic. While some of the rescued fairy warriors veered toward Ilima, many joined Chris and Kale as they headed to basecamp.

The training grounds were empty. By this time of morning, the new army recruits and their commanding officers should have been at the apex of their drills. 

"Where is everyone?" Chris wondered aloud.

"I hope they're slacking off and not. . ." Kale didn't finish his thought, but he must have feared the worst, too.

They took the stairs to the underground bunker. There was a blast of cool air, which was always appreciated. They didn't need to have something underground for protection, but they used it for storage, private meetings, medical treatment, and there were a few prison cells in the back. Plus, it was a break from the heat and sun and it was therefore a common gathering place, perhaps more than it should have been. There were things to do, places to go, and wars to win.

Chris and Kale wandered down the eerily empty torch-lit tunnels. Soon, voices began to pierce the silence. After a right turn, they spotted a cluster of warriors standing in front of a normally empty prison cell. 

Chris practically pushed past Kale to get a better look.

When Kale's younger brother, Bane, spotted them, he bolted over with a huge dimpled smile.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Bane placed his hands on both of their shoulders with an unintentionally painful slap. The kid didn't know his own strength. "We were about to send a search party out for you!" Bane's boisterous roughhousing paused when he glanced at Kale's sling. "What happened to your arm?"

"It's nothing," Kale answered. "What's going on?"

"Yeah," Chris chimed in quickly. "Do tell."

"We captured someone . . . someone good. . ."

"Crux Chevalier?" Chris guessed, voice wavering. The face of a monster. . . 

"Sorry, but no," Bane replied and Chris grunted in response. "Not that good," Bane went on, "but pretty damn close! It's Niele Kekoa."

Chris looked from Bane to Kale. It wasn't a name he immediately recognized.

"That's General Kekoa's youngest son," Kale informed him. "That is good news. How'd you get ahold of him?"

Bane shrugged nonchalantly, but his grin suggested some involvement. "I overheard him bragging about his father in Nohea a few days ago. He was with his posse picking pockets and making a scene. I cornered him when he wandered away and carried his sorry ass all the way back here."

It was the fairy equivalent of miles. It wasn't a patch of territory where Modifying was recommended. 

"Not Crux, but still impressive. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite Jokura." Chris feigned a punch to Bane's stomach and then pulled his head into a headlock. "Don't tell Simona, okay?"

Chris released a now messy-haired Bane as they began walking forward.

"I wouldn't get too excited yet," Bane said in a more serious tone. "The kid's dumb as hell, but he won't talk."

At that, Chris paused mid-step to drop his fairy pack. He then removed the sleeveless beige tunic he was wearing—part of his uniform. He stepped out of his jungle camouflage pants as well.

"Dude . . . what are you doing?" Kale asked as he peered at Chris, now wearing only his undershorts. 

"I have an idea."

Chris removed the gray uniform from his pack. A few moments later, he was dressed as a Gray Coat.

With deliberate nods, Kale and Bane apparently caught on to Chris's insanity.

"Finally ran into some Pyxians, I see." Bane said.

Kale raised his wounded arm. "Yeah, four. I can't believe Chris would actually steal his clothes, though," he added with a cringe, "and put them anywhere near his body."

Undeterred and trying not to imagine what kind of filth took residence in the fat bastard's clothing, Chris stood up, buckled his own belt—the Gray Coat's wasn't going to fit—tucked his coat in and finished buttoning it to the top. He was about to add the helmet too, but refrained when a gross unidentified substance on the nosepiece caught his eye. He suppressed a gag and shoved it back into his pack.

Chris then nudged Kale. "Hit me."

"What?"

Chris pointed to his right cheek. "Do it before I change my mind."

"Do you think you can handle it, pretty boy?"

Chris gave him a 'bring it on' gesture with his hands. "I think I can handle your left hook."

"I'll do it," Bane offered, his stance ready. His smile and the bob of his eyebrows suggesting he would thoroughly enjoy it too.

Chris pulled his head as far away from Bane as possible. "I'm crazy, not stupid. Kale, left-handed, let's—" 

Kale punched Chris in the right cheek before Chris could even brace himself for impact.

"Ow!" Chris grumbled, hunched over, his hand cradling the site of injury. He then wiggled his jaw and spit blood on the ground. "I said hit me, not take out an entire row of teeth!"

Chris licked the swollen inner side of his cheek. His teeth were fortunately still in place.

"You should have let Bane hit you. He actually likes you."

"I wouldn't go that far!" Bane added with a laugh. Then he slapped Chris on his other cheek hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

"All right!" Chris blurted, blocking his face. "We don't need to get carried away here." He started walking backwards toward the cell at the end of the corridor. He raised his arms for demonstration. "Do I look like a Gray Coat?"

Bane shrugged as he glanced at Chris's pants. They were so wide on Chris, they were awkwardly bunched around his belt. "Not at all, but it could work. Like I said, the kid isn't exactly the sharpest arrow in the sheaf."

"Oh!" Chris blurted. "We'll need. . ."

He returned to his pack and dug some rope out it. Kale and Bane bound Chris's hands together and began pushing him down the rest of the hall.

"Out of the way!" Kale shouted to the Kāne spectators in front of the occupied cell. "And get back to work!"  

There were a few confused murmurs exchanged among them, but Chris encouraged them to play along by making his eyes flare wide. After a few nudges and whispers, the warriors seemed to take the hint and filtered out of the area. 

Kale unlocked the cell and Bane forced Chris inside by his hair and the back of his coat. Chris was putting up a good fight, and Kale joined Bane in the charade, and together, they wrestled Chris to the ground.

When Chris was on his side, squirming, Kale kicked him in the shin. . . hard. Chris cursed in genuine pain. 

"That's for the arm!" Kale shook his bandage in Chris's face. 

"And what are you looking at?" Bane said to Niele. The boy was observing the activity with his dumb face lit up with curiosity. 

Bane started at him, his wings flared, too, prompting Neile to cower. Judging by his swollen features, he was already accustomed to beatings.

But Bane didn't pursue him. Instead, he rammed into Chris's back with the side of his leg. "Just wait till my father hears about this. You're dead! We don't keep your kind alive!"

"Where are the rest of you hiding? Huh?" Kale shouted.

"I would die before telling you!" Chris spat back in his best impression of a Gray Coat—a deep, gravelly bellow, simple sentences, slight French accent.

"C'mon," Bane said, tugging on Kale's elbow. "Let's get that arm taken care of." Then he glared at Chris with credible revulsion. "We'll be back soon and you better be ready to cough up some answers."

Bane and Kale then left, closing and locking the cell behind them. Niele, after a few minutes, crawled to his feet and wandered toward the bars.

"They're gone," Neile mumbled loud enough for Chris to hear. He glanced at Chris, shrugged, and retook a seat against the wall.

Chris pretended Neile was invisible. That's what a Gray Coat would have done. And just as Chris hoped, Neile crept closer to him and masked a slight chuckle with a sigh.

Chris snapped a pointed look in Niele's direction. "Something funny?"

"No!" Niele blurted as if he feared for his life. "I just have a similar gash on my lip from them." 

He turned the left side of his face toward Chris and pointed to his fat lip. Chris didn't look over.

"You're a little far from your base. How'd you get this far north?"

North? I thought they were north of us, somewhere in Kanaloa Territory. . . .

"Why don't you shut your mouth?" Chris seethed in response.

"Sorry! I was just asking!"

Chris didn't reply and tried to squirm his wrists free from the rope. It wouldn't take long—the rope wasn't that tight—but he dragged out the effort to make it seem like it was. 

"It doesn't matter. I think I know why you're here," Neile continued. "You got captured on purpose, didn't you?" 

"Do you expect me to answer? You could be a spy."

His chuckle made him sound like a child. "Me? A spy? I'm only fifteen years old!"

"The best spies are those least likely to be spies."

Niele's eyes darted from side to side, most likely with incomprehension. Chris laughed on the inside. This is almost too easy.  

"They'll torture you for answers," Neile eventually added, matter-of-factly. "You know that, right?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy. The queen will kill me if I talk."

"Your queen is in these parts now? I thought she was on the Big Island while her new Fire Breathers are being trained." 

Chris looked at him with outrage. "That's top secret information! Where did you hear that?"

What the hell are Fire Breathers?

The kid smirked and shrugged, clearly pleased with himself. "I've overheard loads of stuff, some even on your turf."  

"Of course!" Chris chided. "Right past the dragon's lair and next to the pot of gold under the rainbow."

Take the bait . . . take the bait . . . take the bait. . .

"You're just jealous that I know more than you do."

"Believe what you want."

Neile huffed irritably. "Then how would I know what your queen is doing?"

"A good guess. Everyone knows she's rebuilding her army. You got lucky with the Fire Breather thing."

"No, I heard it!"

"I doubt it."

"The peak of Mount Konahuanui!" Neile boasted. "That is where you're still camped, isn't it? And like I said," he continued. "I think I even know why you're here."

"And why is that?" Chris challenged.

Neile suddenly rose to his feet and checked the corridor again. Then he returned to the floor by Chris and lowered his voice. "You're trying to locate the Kāne protected zone or a way inside its tunnel system. If I were you, I would have let them capture me. Now that you're in the zone, you probably have some plan to escape, right? Then you'll know its location. Or maybe you're trying to. . ."

"Trying to what?"

"Assassinate Christopher MacRae," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "I don't know what to tell you, though. I haven't seen him."

"Where do you think he is then, if he's not here?"

"I'm not sure. I—"

It suddenly must have dawned on Neile that Chris looked familiar. When Chris was held captive in a Kanaloan prison cell, he was taunted and tormented by soldiers, too, and Neile could have been among the pack. "Wait a second. You are Christopher MacRae. You tricked me!"

Chris freed his hands once and for all, pushed to his feet, and went over to the bars. "We're all done in here."

Bane showed up a few seconds later to let Chris out.

By the time they turned into the daylight provided by the exit, Bane was practically twitching with excitement, his grin so broad, he looked like a kid at Christmas. "So?"

Chris couldn't contain his smile either, but he just bobbed his eyebrows up and down rather than answer. "Where's Kale?" 

They climbed the stairs leading outside and spotted Kale chatting with Dr. Acma, the healer. When Kale noticed them waiting, he ended the conversation and flew over.

Chris didn't even give him the opportunity to inquire. "The peak of Mount Konahuanui! Pyxis' base!"

Kale scowled. "If they're looking for us, why would they be all the way. . . ?" 

"It makes a lot of sense to me now, actually," Chris threw in. "It's a little farther away than we anticipated and southeast of here of all places, but they think they're the most superior beings to grace the planet. Figures they'd choose the highest peak in Hawaii."

The brothers exchanged doubtful looks and shrugged, clearly not as convinced as Chris was.

"Tomorrow, I'm leaving. Who's with me?"

Kale gave him a disapproving headshake. "If we can't get in touch with my father, we should at least get the majority's approval before we put anyone's life on the line. What's the hurry?"

Chris could feel the good humor drain from his face. Its replacement was probably a hot, scary red. "What's the hurry? This is the best lead we've ever had and you want to wait for approval? I'm going tomorrow, with or without you!"

Chris began charging away from him.

"How are you going to get up there, Sergeant Wingless?" Kale shouted after him.

Chris turned around and paced backwards. "I'm not sure, Captain Smartass. I'll figure something out."

"Chris, wait!" Bane called as Chris was about to turn back around. "I'm in."

"Bane!" Kale scolded, both his wings and nostrils flaring.

At the brink of the full-blown jungle, Chris stood and waited for Bane's final answer.

"This isn't just Chris's war," Bane said to Kale, surprisingly firm. And still, a quiver came out, a clear tribute to his dead sister and mother. "And the outcome of this mission concerns everyone who lives on our land." Bane turned back to Chris. "I'll meet you here at sunrise."

Chris gave Bane a quick upward nod and began walking away again.

"Fine," Kale shouted after him. "I'm in, too. I'll rally some troops. Tomorrow. Sunrise. Don't be late, MacRae."

"If I'm not here on time, assume I'm dead."