Note: Callide is Princeps Verita's new name in the revised version of the first book. I used the new name when I referenced her in the chapter below.

Pearly blue and milky white filaments brushed Domi's face from every direction, and he flinched toward Daedalus. The sharp movement knocked his twin into the tunnel wall with a soft grumble, but thankfully, the clivias' curious touches didn't hurt. With a nervous chuckle--barely audible over the irregular pulsing beats around him of What? Who? What, what?--Domi swatted another filament aside and let the swarm drifting through the barrow carry him toward the surface.

The throng shifted around a bend and then, between one breath and the next, the clivias took to the air in front of him, chanting, Up, up, up, in their simple tongue. For a moment, Domi could only blink in wonder as they rose like dandelions catching a breeze, revealing the lip of the tunnel and the starry sky beyond.

Boots crunching in the snow beneath them, the twins stepped out of the barrow and into a new world.

The Trellis-isle still glowed cyan above the broken landscape of black obsidian and Eyes-touched pink snow. Now, however, the humming arcane device also radiated new colors, rippling flames of black blood and roseate smoke. Above the singing lattice of light, immense clouds of crimson mist trailed in great sparkling streamers between two of the planets and the sky, before fading into the Trellis. What little passed through fell like red ash, weak and diffuse, its countless flickering patterns fragmented into kaleidoscopic shards over the landscape.

"I think the sedative's still messing with me," Domi said thickly as he stared at the alien heavens.

Daedalus shook his head, glancing sideways at him with wonder shining in his blue eyes. "No, I see it too. The Trellis Isle is disrupting the Eyes." His gaze narrowed at the black tower looming on the horizon. "We need to bring it down."

Domi swallowed. Standing underneath this small and yet still colossal piece of the Trellis, their vague plan felt laughably flimsy. He peered out at the clivias, which rose into the star-studded black sky like blue and white snowflakes, their movements lazy and lacking purpose, and bit his lip. Far ahead, the Blended marching toward the tower seemed like a thin ribbon against the snowy expense, a pathetic smear beneath the majesty of the Trellis.

What are you doing here?

Domi jumped as heat washed against his back. Heat and words, accompanied by the irregular fluttering pulse of a very young clivia. At his side, Daedalus yelped and twisted around with him.

Two familiar tiny blue puffs drifted toward them. One landed on Daedalus's shoulder and the other wrapped a filament around Domi's paenula sleeve.

"What are you doing out here?" Domi asked.

That is my question, the pup on Daedalus's shoulder said in a wavering pattern of burgundy and crimson waves. A vague sense of disapproval and amusement floated toward him.

The other pup merely seemed curious. Lilio, the quiet, gentle clivia was called. Ausus had named him after the lily in the Holy Ovidiana and his sweet but ornery brother, Ficus, after the fig.

Domi knew the passage by heart, of course, and the rest of the holy book with it.

"In the Blightlands,
he plants a vineyard.
Truly, the grapevine grows,
exalting with new production
and uprooting the thorns.
The stem yields the sweet fig
and reveals the lily.
He washes the Blightlands of transgression,
pure in heart and deed,
so that he might show his native land
freedom from guilt."

Lilio perched on Domi's shoulder, using several filaments like a bird's toes to hold onto his paenula. You're not supposed to be outside, Brother.

Actually, the pup did not say "brother," exactly, so much as something like "older offspring of our male progenitor." But Domi figured "brother" was close enough.

"And you are allowed out here?" Daedalus asked, though, like Domi, he glanced nervously behind his back into the barrow. They had intentionally snuck out with the clivias instead of the Blended. Ausus and the others should be far ahead, waiting futilely for Valens and thinking that the twins were waiting obediently in the pod. But if Ausus had gone back home for some reason...

We want to go with you, Ficus said, pointing several filaments at Daedalus.

"That sounds like you are supposed to stay in the barrow," Domi pointed out. He reached up and began carefully pulling Lilio's filaments free of his clothing, but with each one he removed, ten took its place. "Stop that," he chided. "You need to go inside where it's safe."

Why do we have to stay, but you get to go? Ficus demanded.

"Because we are older," Daedalus said, frowning at the small clivia. "That also means that you have to listen to us. So go inside."

Domi didn't know if that would be convincing to either pup--did clivias even care about things like that?--but after a moment Lilio's filaments relaxed.

He floated before Domi's face. Are you going to get rid of the loud thing in the sky? The one that hurts the adults and makes the Great Voice whisper?

Domi nodded. "Yeah. At least, we're going to try."

Ficus lifted from Daedalus's shoulder and flew to join Lilio. Good, he said.

And with that, the pair of pups drifted back into the barrow and faded from sight.

Domi let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He didn't know what he would have done if the pups had refused to go back. They were too little to bring with him.

Daedalus glanced at him and tilted his head toward the tower. "Shall we?"

Domi snorted. "We shall."

The Blended had gone to the left side of the tower. Domi and Daedalus decided it best to go to the opposite side and pray that Ausus and the others wouldn't notice them.

Thirty minutes and several nervous moments of hiding their faces in their paenula hoods later, they stood at the base of the Restoration Tower.

Daedalus lowered his paenula hood, peering up at the listing black edifice. "Now what?"

"Now we do a little breaking," Domi said, cracking his knuckles and praying it would be even a fraction as easy as the simple words made it sound.

His twin turned to give him a doubtful look. "Breaking?" Daedalus glanced up at the sky, where countless clivia surrounded the tower like a thickening cloud, then looked back at Domi. "How are we supposed to sneak inside? There is no possible way the Rex does not notice this swarm. He will be watching carefully." He frowned at the walkway spiraling up the wall. "And the tower is made of promenia crystal. As soon as we touch it, any particles trapped within will sense us. I am sure he will be watching for that. We will be caught."

"That's what I'm counting on," Domi said. He smirked as Daedalus's blue lips twisted in a confused frown. "Old Pullati trick. My friend Vis once got herself arrested so she could steal the keys to the stocks. Slipped them to Radix during visiting hours at the jail so Ma could have the locksmith make copies."

Daedalus's blue eyes widened. "You want--"

"Let's go get ourselves arrested," Domi said, trying to sound cheerful instead of terrified. As his twin gaped at him, Domi pointed upward. "How well can you aim with lightning?"

Daedalus's gaze followed his finger and widened. "Ah, I see," he murmured, and Domi heard a familiar hum as promenia began to gather. "That will get his attention. Let me--" He gasped.

Domi blinked, frowning as his twin jerked around, scanning the frozen Eyes-lit darkness for something. "What?" he asked as his heart began to thunder in his chest.

"Someone just claimed my promen--"

"Hello, Sons."

The twins gasped, stumbling back as a glowing figure stepped through the polished black stone. Daedalus swayed against Domi's side. "Mother?" he whispered.

He was not the only one who was shocked. The eidolon's hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide with horror. "What has happened to you?"

Daedalus swallowed, stepping cautiously away from Domi and holding out his hands as he approached the shaking promenia woman. "We are still ourselves, Mother. We are still your sons." He bit his lip. "Please, we need your help."

She shook her head frantically, hands still pressed to her mouth as she jerked away from him. "No, you are... You are..." She lowered her hands, clutching her belly instead as though pained. "Who are you? What happened to my sons?" With each word, her tone rose, panicked.

Daedalus's blue face looked near to tears as he crept closer to her. "We are your sons." He glanced over his shoulder, nodding pleadingly at a spot by his side, and Domi approached nervously. "See?" Daedalus said, turning back to the horrified eidolon. He peered up into her eyes, and she flinched at whatever she saw there. "You can sense our thoughts, can you not?"

"You... But..." She hesitated, but after a moment some of the shock and grief drained from her glittering golden face, and Domi found that he could breathe again. "Daedalus?"

He nodded. "We are still ourselves." Without turning to look, he grasped Domi's arm and pulled him near. "Come here, Brother, let her hear you."

Callide studied them both for a moment, eyes searching their faces. Tension bled from her one second at a time, replaced by relief, as she sensed whatever it was that eidolons could pick up.

But then she drew back with a sharp breath, her expression growing alarmed. "I am sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I love you both, but this?" Her face grew stony, though her golden eyes remained pained. "No, I cannot allow you to harm the Trellis."

Domi frowned. "You know what we want to do," he said. It was not a question, though he had no clue how much she might know. Not enough to help them, it looked like. Not yet.

"Yes."

He nodded. "Then listen to us now. Please." He glanced at Daedalus, who looked just as desperate as he felt. His own body practically thrummed with nerves. "We don't have time to explain everything. We just need you to trust us."

Daedalus bit his lip and reached out to grip her hand. His fingers sank into the dead woman's palm, but he didn't let go, and soon her hand seemed to solidify as she glanced down at it. "Please, Mother. When the time comes, we need you to remember that we are still your sons. Our appearance has changed, but we still share your desire to ensure the world's future." He lifted their joined hands to his heart. "You can feel that, right?"

Callide bit her lip. "You are not lying." She peered from Daedalus to Domi, reaching out a hand. Reluctantly, he took it, blinking in surprise as the cool mist soon warmed and hardened into something that felt like flesh and bone. She drew him near, then glanced back up at the tower. "But how..." Her brow furrowed. "Ah."

Domi smiled. "We've got a coin or two up our sleeves." He nodded as she glanced at him and released them both. "We can do this. We just need to get inside."

Callide inclined her head, looking thoughtful. "Very well, I will say nothing to the Rex--" She broke off, blinking and then gaping. "Oh, you do not want my silence."

Daedalus offered a wry smile. "That is right. In fact, we need you to tell the Rex exactly where we are."

"Son..." She peered from one of them to the other, the panic returning. Domi squirmed in discomfort. How could someone who didn't even know him be this worried about him? But she indeed reached up, clutching his shoulder in one hand and Daedalus's in the other. "Sons, he will hurt you." She gritted her teeth. "He plans to kill you, and this time it will not be as swift or painless as... as the last time." She brushed the hair from Daedalus's face as Domi's twin shuddered. "He is convinced a public spectacle is necessary."

"He... He will not," Daedalus said, but his choked voice was fearful. "There is no need for such. Not with my cousin now holding the Trellis. He was just angry yesterday when he threatened that. But he has never been outright cruel."

She shook her head. "All of the compassion he used to possess has turned into determination to do whatever he must to save the world. The man you knew is gone. If I tell him that you are here, you will both die." She clutched their shoulders hard enough that Domi winced at the growing ache. "I cannot put you through that."

He tried to offer her an unconcerned smile, but it felt wobbly. "We're harder to kill than everyone seems to think. You need to trust us."

Molten gold eyes met his own, fear and desperation in their depths. "Son..."

Daedalus squared his shoulders, but his tone was gentle. "Mother, you cannot protect us any longer. As you said before, it is not right." He offered her a small, sad smile as she looked at him, pain in her gaze. "Too many lives are at stake beyond just our own." He glanced at Domi. "But we believe if we do this, we can protect everyone, ourselves included." He returned his gaze to her, blue eyes begging her to trust them. "Please let us try."

For a long moment, she just studied them as Domi's heart raced in his chest. Then, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, resignation and terror alike swam in the fiery gold. "I have notified the Rex that I captured you."

"Thank you," Daedalus said quietly.

"I hope you know what you are doing."

Domi hoped so, too.

Five minutes later Rex Decus Astralis stepped from the tower high above, Lyra at his side, and drifted to the ground flanked by wavering promenia.

As Lyra dismissed the particles with an anguished expression, the ancient Rex offered the twins a cold smile. "Daedalus and Laetus, how kind of you to deliver yourselves for your own execution." Promenia reared around them both, clasping tight. "Come along."