Valens had killed Domi once. He hated that he needed to do it again. 

"Are you sure?" Aix murmured.

Valens turned his head to glance at the man sitting against the white wall beside him. The Rex had chucked him, his aedificans, and his alumnas in the spacious room to await their fate at Brightening. Lit by tall glowing strips that imitated windows and tiny levitating orbs high in the ceiling, the dungeon sat empty save for the vague impression of a figure chained spread-eagle above the doorway.

The Rex had not placed them in shackles, at least. Still, the dungeon's promenia wards kept them from venturing too close to the door.

Valens drew a steadying breath, but his hands trembled where they rested atop his knees. He clenched them into fists to stop their shaking. "Yes. I'm not going to let the Rex slaughter them in front of the whole world. I just can't." He tried hard not to look at the twins huddled in the corner on the opposite side of the room. "I won't." 

Aix rested a hand atop Valens's fists, his palm warm. "I understand, Alumna." Gray eyes, almost silver in the stark white room, held his gaze. "What do you need me to do?"

Valens inhaled slowly. It was easier this time. "What can you do? You can't use promenia."

Aix's sighed. "I can't use it to heal." He paused, and his voice grew softer as he spoke again. "Nothing stops me from using it this way."

Valens glanced away and chewed his lip, then stopped as it reminded him painfully of the doomed children. "Decus registered Daedalus again. Both twins outrank us now. You can't use promenia on them."

"Not while they're awake." Aix smiled sadly and gave his hands a gentle pat. "It will be the easiest way. I will wait until they're asleep. They'll have no reason for fear. They won't know anything. Feel anything."

Valens swallowed the lump in his throat, but it stayed firmly lodged. Nausea roiled in his belly and rage in his veins. He wanted to tear the tower apart. Dissolve every last speck of promenia. Shatter the foundations upon which the sturdy promenia crystals rested and bring the whole thing toppling down on the Rex's head. 

But he couldn't. It was perhaps the only thing he could do to stop the man, but who knew what impact it would have on the world?

He'd done all he could to save this planet and keep his alumnas alive in the process. Now the world was safe, but his alumnas would die, either at his hand or the Rex's. There was no way around it.

Valens closed his eyes, heart heavy. It was time to give up and stop forcing the children through this painful fight. 

He opened his eyes and nodded at Aix. "Let them sleep," he said quietly.

<> 

Domi couldn't sleep. A weird elation filled him, keeping him wide awake.

An escape. He was going to die, but he'd get to escape all this. The thought left him almost dizzy with relief.

The world was safe. A more skilled royal worldholder held the Trellis in her capable hands. Maybe she held it alone, but she would not be the first Princeps Worldholder to rule by herself.

And now, Domi would be punished, just like he deserved. Maybe it would make the world feel better.

It would certainly make him feel better. Well, not better. He wouldn't feel anything, after all, when it was over. But he wouldn't have to face the aftermath of what he'd done. The families of the millions of people who lay dead deserved justice, and though he didn't deserve to escape his guilty conscience in death, still, its inevitable approach left him strangely light and airy.

He glanced at his twin, who leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, in the dungeon corner. Dae couldn't sleep either, though whether the same thoughts circled his mind, Domi didn't know. Probably not; Daedalus looked scared rather than relieved, his eyes wide and his breath shallow.

Domi glanced away and nibbled his lip. He didn't mind dying. Not really. But he didn't want his twin to die. He looked at Valens and Aix, who sat against the opposite wall, talking lowly. Or them. 

He didn't want anyone else to die.

"Aren't you tired, Alumna?" Valens asked. A weird gentle note rang in his voice. The man probably knew this was the end. Valens was powerful, but even he couldn't do anything against the Rex and four Princepses.

Domi shrugged. "No." He quirked a wry smile. "I kind of want to enjoy the last few hours I've got left." He was surprised to find it was true. He was ready to die. But not at this very moment. 

"I can understand that, Alumna," Valens said. He hesitated, then added, "But don't give up hope yet. You have no idea what opportunities might present themselves. You should get some sleep, just in case you'll need strength."

Aix looked at Valens, a faint smile touching his lips as the younger man offered him a small nod.

"Go to sleep, Alumnas," Valens went on. His eyes narrowed, shifting from Domi to Daedalus to hold each beneath his stern regard. "Right now. Daedalus, use your prometus if you're having trouble falling asleep."

Domi frowned, glaring at his twin as drowsiness began to sweep through him. "Don't you dare."

Daedalus ignored him, instead inclining his head to Valens. "Yes, Aedificanti," he murmured. His obnoxious, obedient voice broke off in a yawn and followed Domi down into unwilling slumber. 

<> 

Buccina didn't know what to do. She, who had been weaving her careful webs for so long now, found herself thoroughly ensnared. She didn't know what was the right thing to do, now. 

She glanced across the lounge at Decus, the man she was sworn to follow and whose downfall she was actively funding. 

She looked at her daughter, seated on a soft promenia crystal chaise next to her, the child she had tried so long to protect. Protect first from discovery and then, when that wasn't possible, protect from ever inheriting the burden of rule. 

How she had failed. Buccina had thought, once, that Lyra's aunt would live many years and serve as a shield protecting her unknown niece from the Trellis. Verita should have lived nearly two hundred years. She should have passed the Throne of Solitude onto Daedalus when her son was a skilled aedilis and well prepared for the burden of rule. Lyra should never have needed to ascend to the throne.

Everything had gone wrong and no clear path out of this catastrophe presented itself.

No, Buccina didn't know what she ought to do. She only knew what she would do. 

"Augustus," she said, peeling the rind from the orange she had brought with her from the skychariot. "I would like your permission to interrogate the prisoners and determine how Daedalus escaped death." 

Decus opened his eyes, releasing the promenia that had been drifting around his head with the low thrum of the Caeles. He met her gaze. "I would dearly love to know that as well." He cast a sideways glance at Oliva.

The old woman flicked him an irritated glare. "You might as well have her examine me as well if you're in such a hurry to doubt me, Augustus," the old woman snapped. "My mind is free of guilt."

Decus treated her to a cold nod. "I hope you speak the truth, Basilicus, for your own sake." He turned to Buccina. "Yes, get to the bottom of this." 

"Yes, Augustus," she said, rising to her feet and bowing her head with one hand pressed over her sapphire laurel.

<>

The prisoners jerked to their feet as Buccina entered the dungeon. As the door slid closed behind her, she extended her hand to the floor, holding her intention in her mind.

The tower answered her, as the schematics Verita's late husband had sent to Vola Apertus before his disappearance said it would. Amazing.

Chairs rose from the floor, and she dipped her chin to the comfortable seats. "Please, sit." 

Valens set his jaw. "I'd rather not."

Buccina sighed, glancing at the door. With a nudge of her mind, the promenia screened the room from observation. It would not stop Decus from overhearing anything if he wished, but the Caeles listed him as still present in the lounge a floor  above. "Please, my only intention today is to help you. Sit down. We need to talk." 

"How is this helping us?" the worldholder snapped but guided his alumnas to sit. 

The twins slumped, watching her with lost, confused expressions. The resignation in the identical faces broke her heart.

"You let us come here even though you knew the Rex never planned for us leave here alive," Valens snarled, standing behind the twins and resting a hand on each boy's shoulder. "You let us believe you were helping us. But you were only helping ensure a pair of twins reached the palace." Furious amber eyes narrowed at her. "You knew, didn't you?." 

She frowned. "Knew what?"

He clenched his jaw, and beneath his hand, Domi winced. "That the tower would only respond to a resonating pair of twins." 

That had her blinking in surprise. "No, I didn't know that. I sent you here because I thought it was your only chance to survive. She sighed. "But after your departure, the Rex grew suspicious."

"Suspicious?" Aix asked.

She nodded. "The reports of your progress to the night-side from the skychariot attendants were odd. They didn't reveal Daedalus's presence on the skychariot, but they were just strange enough to raise alarms. The meal costs were too high."

"He was monitoring that?" Daedalus gasped.

"Yes," she said. "He kept a personal eye on all your expenses. When you began behaving oddly, he decided we needed to come here immediately and oversee your work ourselves." She frowned, and the scars on her face pulled against her illusion. "But on the way, he informed me and Lyra that he intended to give her the throne."

"And kill my alumnas," Valens growled.

She shook her head. "No, he didn't know Dae was alive. And he said Domi was to be suppressed and held as a well-kept political prisoner. I hated the idea, but..." She sighed. 

"But you thought Lyra would be a better Princeps than me," Domi said, his voice soft. The boy didn't meet her eyes.

"Yes," she admitted. She swallowed hard as the boy only nodded, still without looking up. "I hoped it would not come to that. I hoped you'd be able to learn your duties so Lyra wouldn't need to step into this role. But after everything that happened..."

"You started to think it was a good idea," Aix said.

"Yes." She straightened. "But I'm not going to let you die as my daughter ascends to power." Their heads jerked up, and she shook her head firmly. "It isn't necessary or right. That is not a legacy I want for her."

Aix hesitated, then spoke slowly. Gently. "If she does not suppress herself again and give the Trellis back, we are going to be in the same boat we've been in since the Calamity of the Twins."

She frowned, looking from one twin to the other. "That's right, you said you learned something. That they're meant to co-rule?" It had been such an odd statement in the moment that she had disregarded it as mere frightened babble.

"Yes," Aix said. "We learned that before the Calamity, the Throne of Solitude was shared. There's a reason people of the Princeps Worldholder line are always born twins. It's no accident. There are ways for them to share the burden of the Trellis." 

"If your daughter keeps the throne," Valens added, "she'll be crushed under its weight. It was never intended for one person alone."

"You understand that this is difficult for me to believe," she said slowly. But it was an odd thing for them to claim. Surely the two men welcomed a chance to free the twins of the burden of rule?

"I know," Valens said. "But search my mind. I'm not lying."

Aix's kindly gray gaze held her own. "I'm sorry that your older daughter died," he said, his voice gentle. "But it makes your younger daughter unfit for the throne. Search my mind as well. You'll know its true."

She studied the earnest, urgent faces of the men before her for a moment, then nodded. "I don't need to search your minds. I trust you. You're not people to grasp at power for the mere sake of holding it." 

"So now what?" Aix asked. 

"So now we run." 

"We?" Daedalus asked, looking up at her with hope. 

She offered a wry smile. "There's no way the Rex will believe I'm innocent after the four of you escape. We'll have to leave together. But I must unregister us in the Compendium, or we will all be found." 

"Your daughter is a mindholder. How far can she sense if the Rex commands her?"

Buccina chuckled. "No farther than her nose. She's not trained in that lineage. The Rex insisted her studies be wholly devoted to holding the Trellis if ever necessary."

"And your other heirs?" Valens asked.

She shook her head. "They're halfway across the world and have never touched any of your minds. They won't be able to locate you."

Valens nodded. "Good." He clapped his hands together. "How are we getting out of here?" 

"We're not getting out," Buccina said, her lip twitching as they frowned at her. "We're going under."

Forming the intention in her mind, she held her hands out. Domi gasped, leaping to his feet as the promenia stone shifted and formed glowing white steps that descended into the floor.

<>

For what seemed like an eternity, Domi and the others walked down the white tunnel. With each step, smooth promenia crystal parted before Domi, supple as glowing clay, and led him and the others single file along a sloping path. Warmth pressed them close, and silence; they didn't dare speak, fearing the Rex would somehow sense their escape.

Domi took a step, and a cacophonous crack sent him shrinking back. In front of his face, the white stone opened into a wall of snow and ice, which split straight down the middle and then crumbled away. Chilly wind blasted him.

Beyond the new arched opening, the Devouring Eyes glared from behind the cyan Trellis Isle.

"Go on," Valens murmured behind him, nudging him forward.

There were few things Domi wanted less than to go waltzing around beneath the nightmare planets. But sticking around to get killed by the Rex was one of them. He gulped and stepped out of the base of the tower's black wall and into the frigid air.

Snow and ice crunched beneath his boots, and footsteps crackled behind him as the others followed. And then, out of the corner of his eye, something pale rushed toward him.

For a heartbeat, he thought it was snow. A lot of snow, rolling around the Restoration Tower like a great wave. Then he heard the first low pulse in the air.

Clivias and Blended swarmed around the black tower's western wall and poured between the Lightbearers and the tower's safety.

"Behind me," Valens snapped, shouldering in front of him and Daedalus. The warmth of Aix's torso pressed against Domi's back as the older worldholder sandwiched the twins between the two adults. A moment later, Buccina stepped in front of them all, promenia humming.

"They're not attacking," Aix murmured. "Perhaps if we move nice and slow..."

Domi scoffed nervously. The creatures weren't lashing razor-sharp filaments at them, but he knew from experience how fast the bestias could move.

"What should we do?" Daedalus asked. Lightning crackled in the distance. "I can obliterate them, but we will be trapped in my field. And even if we weren't..."

"The light show will give us away," Valens agreed. "Can you do anything, Basilicus?"

Buccina shook her head. "Not unless we want the promenia to give us away. I am the only mindholder here strong enough to manipulate bestias. The promenia will detect me if I use it."

Domi gulped. The swarm had them trapped, squeezing them like some kind of snake. The wall of icy blue and milky white bodies around them grew tighter and tighter, forcing them to press close to each other. 

Domi could not help a dry, incredulous laugh. He was going to escape death by the Rex, only to get torn apart by clivias and Blended instead.

There was something weird about the clivias, though. He frowned at the bestias, swallowing his inappropriate mirth as he tried to place what seemed different. The night-side creatures moved slower than he'd seen before, more haltingly. Their irregular throbbing no longer pulsed in unison. And last time, the Blended had walked among the clivias. Now, they stood before the swarm, pressing the clivias behind them much as Valens shoved Domi and Dae back. 

"Something's changed," he murmured. "Why are they like..." He shook his head, confusion bleeding through fear and taking the edge off. "Well, something's different."

"The Trellis," Aix said. When Domi glanced behind him, the old man tipped his chin up to the glowing bluish-green isle of light shining above them. "Clivias are less intelligent and coordinated under it. And the Eyes are quieter."

Domi nodded, then froze as the clivia's pulsing throbs shifted to something that reminded him of a fallen, tumbling drum. The churning swarm parted, and three familiar figures stepped forward.

"So you did go back to them," Valens said as Kaitlyn, walking beside Daedalus's silent father, offered a small smile of greeting. "Remember what I said." If the warning note in the worldholder's voice weren't already enough of a threat, promenia hummed. A lock of the eidolon's magenta hair disappeared with a crackling flare. She winced.

"Valens," Domi hissed. "She hasn't done anything!"

"Yet," Daedalus murmured, pressing closer to him.

Ausus held out one hand. "It is time to come with me, sons." 

"No," Daedalus said, voice wavering. He shrank away from his father, bumping into Valens's side.

The older worldholder rested a hand on Domi's twin's shoulder and glared at Daedalus's father. "They're not going anywhere with you."

"They must," Ausus said. "I saw the news in the Caeles. They're to be executed at Brightening. They're not safe here."

"And you want me to believe they'll be safe with you?" Valens scoffed.

"They will." Ausus shook his head. "They're my children."

"You attacked us," Domi snapped, remembering the small clivias that had charged him earlier. As though his thought summoned the bestias, he spotted the pair zipping between the other clivias. "You sent those things at us."

Ausus sighed and shook his head. "I was not attacking you. I was..." He gritted his teeth. "You'll understand later. Please, we've got to go. It's not safe. I vow I will not harm either of you." He turned to Kaitlyn and Logos. "And they have advised me to explain before I do anything."

"No," the childlike daemon said, "We advised you to explain and let it be their choice."

"Explain what?" Daedalus asked. Domi's twin looked near to tears, fists balling at his sides as his usual composure slipped in the face of his transformed father.

Domi gulped. Their transformed father.

Ausus drew a deep breath. "I think I have a solution."

"To what?" Buccina asked.

"To everything." He shook his head as they stared. "I will explain later. We must go. You can hide in the Barrows."

"Can we trust him?" Valens asked with a glance at Buccina.

She frowned, promenia humming as she seemed to stare straight through Ausus. "His thoughts are strange to me. Like the clivias, yet not. I cannot read him yet."

Aix shrugged as Valens turned to him next. "What choice do we have?" He offered Domi's aedificans a sad smile. "Whatever happens, it's likely better than the other options."

"Other options?" Domi asked.

Valens rested a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing soothingly. "Nothing, Alumna." The older worldholder turned to Ausus, eyes narrowing. "We'll go with you." He drew Daedalus protectively to his side. "But if you harm one hair on their heads..."

Ausus met his eyes unflinchingly. "I am no more willing to do that than you are."

Valens nodded and nudged the twins toward the Blended man. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go with your father."

<>

"What the heck is this place?" Domi asked a half hour later.

Valens was inclined to wonder the same. The Barrows--which they had entered through the narrow mouth of a basalt cave--looked like some unholy combination of honeycomb and spiderwebs. Several cocoon-like pods, lit by some kind of bioluminescent amber resin, bulged out here and there like pustules. He shuddered.

Ausus glanced at a pod they passed and smiled at Valens's response. "It's taken them a long time to learn about human needs. Sometimes the things they provide are... an approximation. And they don't understand human aesthetics at all."

"I can tell," Valens said dryly, although his head was spinning. "When you say 'they provided'..."

"He means the clivias," Kaitlyn said quietly.

"The clivias built this?" Buccina asked, a blend of wonder and confusion in her voice.

Ausus inclined his head toward the pod they approached, and the two clivia pups that had been following him around flew inside. "This one's mine," he said. He glanced at the twins. "Ours, if you choose to stay."

"Fat chance," Domi muttered under his breath. The boy shivered as he stepped inside and looked around, Daedalus following reluctantly behind with an uneasy glance at his father as he passed the man.

Valens stepped into the chamber and blinked. The pod looked... Well, strange was putting it lightly. Soft brown webbing covered every surface, forming spherical walls. What looked grayish brown on the surface was, on closer inspection, a finely woven net of what looked like iridescent blue and white clivia filaments and an amber resin-like sap.

Something sat--no, grew--from the floor like some kind of mushroom. A bed or chaise? No, a table, he realized a moment later, eying a rough transluscent amber bowl atop the thing and then blinking at the day-side vegetables inside. One of the pups landed on the edge of the bowl.

"How the heck did you get radishes out here?" he asked, glancing around in confusion. Globules of resin, paler amber in color, grew from the ceiling and illuminated the pod with warm light. But he sensed very little promenia here. "There's no Trellis lamp for miles," he said, extending his senses.

Ausus nodded. "I haven't been here long. So many of their artifacts confuse me. But they have entire chambers lined with a brighter version of this bioluminescent sap. Earlier attempts to grow day-side crops here failed, but this time they were able to gather enough information to get the conditions right. We won't see several of the other crops for weeks, but the radishes are coming in nicely." He smiled as the clivia pup wrapped several filaments around a radish.

"Is that thing eating...?" Buccina asked, hand over her mouth.

Valens shook his head. Of course the small clivia wasn't eating it. Bestias couldn't digest day-side lifeforms any more than the reverse. The beasts just enjoyed tearing things apart.

"Yes, they're eating." Ausus watched the clivia pup as it rose from the bowl, a strange fondness in his expression. "The new generation depends on these. They need a combination of day-side and night-side food to thrive. I'm glad they like radishes and kale." He pinched a green leaf and held it up. "We don't have much else to give them yet."

"It's not hurting you?" Aix asked, eying the pup as it landed on Ausus's hand.

"It doesn't want to hurt me," the Blended man said. The pup curled dark blue tendrils around one finger and plucked the kale leaf from his grip. 

"Will it hurt me if I touch it?" Daedalus asked, reaching a hesitant hand out to the other pup.

"Dae!" Domi hissed, yanking the other boy back as the pup swept filaments toward his brother's unprotected fingers. "Don't touch that thing!"

Ausus chuckled. "It is alright to touch them, Son. In fact, they like it. They inherited the need for touch from us."

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Aix, wide eyed, was the first to break the silence. "Inherited?"

Ausus nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "They... Well, it's complicated. They do not reproduce the way we do, but they are skilled at the art of manipulating inheritance and combining--"

"Are they part human?" Domi blurted. The boy jerked his head away from the other pup as it reached for his hair with several filaments.

Ausus accepted the second pup into his hand as it streamed away from the loud noise. "Yes," he said. "Mostly clivia, with a few human modifications to allow them to interact with us on a more mutual level. They're... Well, it's complicated. Not completely accurate." He drew a deep breath. "But in a way, they're my sons. Your brothers."