I wasn't surprised by Malachi's answer, which was the true surprise to me. Somehow I knew he would agree, just like I somehow knew him, even though I really didn't, or shouldn't, couldn't possibly. But whatever Gifts I had weren't warning me that he was lying, and even James' mind felt calmer when it touched mine. Only Ailech continued to look like he thought we were all crazy as we walked to our rooms. But with the amount of time he had spent piecing Malachi back together, I could understand his hesitation.

Regardless of how it looked to any outsider, I knew Malachi was with us. I might have even known it before he did himself. I didn't look at him as an enemy, or a prisoner, or a project. I saw him as an ally, if a reluctant one, a scared one, though he tried to hide it. Something in me trusted him, at least in some situations, and though it sounded crazy to my conscious mind, something deeper knew, something deeper was leading me. And that was exactly what I followed.

He hated the Collector. And I knew in his own twisted way he loved James. He wanted to be free and he had taken our side over the Collector's at every opportunity, though he still paid lip service to being against us. But whenever he had a choice, a real choice, he had chosen us.

He hadn't told us about the ambush his master had planned, but he had been so obvious, so visibly guilty, it was almost like he made sure we would figure it out. He had kept Ailech with him so when we came to gather him, when we prepared to leave, he would be there. That same deep place in me that whispered he should join, would join, also whispered that he had painstakingly planned this entire night out, manipulated even Ailech to stay and drink with him, until we came to call.

I didn't know if I should be afraid or angry by how thoroughly he could manipulate those around him. But it didn't matter, not when I knew he was on our side, that his plays and plans were laid for our gain. At least that's how I justified the fact that I wasn't wary, not at all - I was impressed.

"How long has this been your plan?"

I broke the silence in our room, lightly startling Malachi where he sat on the foot of his bed, his head leaned into his hands as he watched the floor. He hadn't moved from that position since our group dispersed to our perspective rooms.

James had gone to Kael and Nevaeh's room to wake them and tell them our plan, to ask them to stay behind. Which left Malachi and myself in our room alone. He wasn't pushing emotions out, but I could still sense his anxiety, his growing fear and disbelief at what he had agreed to. It was one thing to fantasize rebellion, to play it out like a scene in your mind, but it was a very different thing to actually go through with it, to go against a being who had shaped you, controlled you, owned you for your entire life.

"The wolves at the manor? Ever since he learned that James had scurried here to reunite with you. Then he waited for your inevitable departure, to find your Clan, which he had already located, and sent a team of his Skia out for. They were supposed to die actually. But when that failed, he sent me to find you, be captured, to be his eyes and ears, though you trounced that pretty damn quickly as well. But the end plan was always this, though I'm sure he thought he would have more intel from me before going through with it."

Malachi's voice was trailing, quiet and distant like he still couldn't believe what he was about to do. He laid back, making his arms a pillow under his head as he watched the ceiling blankly, just like he had been staring at the floor moments earlier, a vacant look covering his pretty features.

"No, not that plan. When did you decide to join us, really?"

There was a pause and I wondered if he would ignore me and the question. But then he shrugged, a stilted movement from the way he was laying.

"Enemy of my enemy is my friend, I guess. I'm not joining you, I'm just aligning myself against him. The way I see it, there are four potential outcomes and three of them end with my death, one does not - so, that is the one I am choosing. I never liked fire as much as James, so I am not quite so eager to burn just yet."

"You fight with us - we lose, you die. You fight with him - he loses, you die. You fight with him - he wins and kills you to make way for James. Those are the options we beat out?"

"Pretty much."

There was a long pause, the air sharp with it, and by the way Malachi was lying back, now scrutinizing the ceiling like it held all the answers in the world, it was clear he didn't want to continue our conversation. I gave him a few more minutes of peace before I pressed further.

"Why do you think we won't kill you? Why do you trust that we'll let you go free if we win like we say we will?"

"I don't trust you, I just trust him less. Once again, I don't have much of a choice here, do I? I never have a choice."

"You've used that lie already. Come up with new ones. You always have a choice, and you chose us, this. You know it deep down. Maybe you chose us because we're the best option for you, but you still made the choice. You did that, you took control. And I think you would make the same choice even if the Collector wasn't going to kill you. I think you're done being controlled."

I smiled at his scowl before ducking into the bathroom to change into my gear, something I hadn't worn in far, far too long. When I came out, Malachi wasn't in his usual attire, the long sleeves and loose, dark pants I was used to. Instead, he was in gear too, a perfect match to the Clan's.

"Abby?" I asked with a nod to his clothing.

He nodded, regarding himself in the mirror, his eyes flicking from one piece of the outfit to another. I remembered doing much the same the first time I put it on so many months ago in the manor before I knew what I was getting myself into. But I wouldn't trade it, even if I didn't make it through this.

Malachi pulled his silvery hair back into a surprisingly secure ponytail for a man I had never seen do anything with it besides brush it out of his face like an annoyance, or slick it back, usually with blood.

"Why the tattoos?" I prodded, clearly seeing the dark lines and curves that crept up his neck now that his hair wasn't hiding them, and trying to continue any conversation to keep him talking.

"Because James' father hates them. I come back with a new one whenever I have the chance during a mission. In fact, I guess I'm due for another."

He smirked over his shoulder in the mirror at me, and I returned it.

"And the hair?"

His eyes shuttered and dropped away from mine.

"I don't know, it just changed. A few months after James left, during the worst of," he paused and raised his chin, taking in a deep breath before leveling his eerie eyes on mine again. "Once I became the preferred tool of my master, my body was under a lot of stress and...it just turned. He didn't like that either."

"I like it, makes you look even more...unnatural, what with the eyes and everything."

"Thanks?"

I shrugged, stowing my knives in their holders. Malachi's curved swords from his ambush suddenly were laying on the bed next to him and he let out an exasperated breath at Abby's obvious spying. Though I was beginning to think the room just knew what we needed and provided. But I didn't pretend to understand the magic of the Vault.

"Ready?"

He secured his knives through straps on his back and swept his arms toward the door dramatically, letting me lead the way.

» ✦ «

We gathered in Abby's office much like the day we had arrived, with the absence of Chi and her Clan members. Kael and Nevaeh had declined James' pleaded request to stay behind, though they eventually agreed to not directly go against his father. Instead, they would focus on getting the Shifters to safety.

Ailech stood in the midst of five Darklings, three of which were halves, looking as cool and casual as if we were going out for weekly errands. Nevaeh kept trying to catch his eye, which he skillfully avoided. James looked like a statue, a deadly calm and cold mask covering his features. While Kael looked more menacing than I could ever remember seeing him before. Then there was Malachi, the only one looking as apprehensive as the situation truly warranted, his yellow eyes seemed even more animal-like with their darting.

Abby stood behind his desk, his wet blue gaze passing over each of us as the brittle silence stretched on. Finally, he spoke.

"I will transport you to the stone cemetery and can transport you and the pack back here from that location as well. There is...there is little else I can do to assist, as I need to be here to open and close the gate for entrance of each group. I wish-"

"We understand, Abby. What you are doing, all that you have done, it is enough. Now, it is up to us." James' voice rang respectful and true, and his familiar name did not go unnoticed as Abby looked a hair from tears by the time he had finished.

The old mage nodded, his eyes falling on Malachi as he spoke with a cracked voice. "Niabe on ire has."

He spoke to us all, but his eyes were trained on Malachi. And then, quieter, he near-whispered two more words, his blue eyes set on golden-yellow ones.

"Come back."

Malachi's chin dropped almost imperceptively, but I saw it for what it was; a nod, an acknowledgment and agreement with the mage, his old tutor. Malachi swallowed hard before looking away. And I could feel that he was calmer, still afraid but with layers of other emotions pushing back the fear. I felt a warm hand brush against my wrist and looked from our newest ally up into navy eyes I would go to Hell and back for. He intertwined his fingers with mine and somehow, whether from my Gift or prophecy or something else, I knew this was the path we were supposed to be on.

Then the room faded, my sense of direction momentarily suspended, and we were in the white rock garden behind the manor, the sun weakly battling thick, billowing clouds as an uncharacteristically sharp wind whipped past. I took in the smell of wet grass and thawed dirt and the slowly approaching Spring, and cherished the moment of calm, the memories of this garden, of my time at the manor. And the fact that I was with that same group again, that I was with my family again.

I stood with one of the most powerful Clans in centuries, flanked by my Halfling Pair, a mage with a Gift the world had never seen, and a Half who's entire life had been dedicated to training, fighting, and killing. If anyone could kill the Collector and end this, it was us. It had to be us.

A short one. But I just finished my SECOND TO LAST SEMESTER on Monday night. So now I am on winter break and only have work to worry about until mid-January - which means I better get these last few chapters down and out and get Book III finished (at least rough draft) before my last semester starts.

Oh, and I got a COVID test this morning, let's hope for that N, yeah?

So, guesses? What will happen in the final fight? Let me know, vote, comment, message.

T