I BRING OUT SOME BLANKETS and refreshments from my tent, my pace slow and disbelieving. Walking numbly to the campfire, I hand over the supplies to the three people closest  to my heart.

My blood turns sluggish in my veins and I am unable to form a reaction as they thank me. Everyone else is wide awake and alert now, they sit on the opposite side of the bonfire. Their weapons are drawn and ready but they don't make a move.

Katrina holds them all back. Why wouldn't she? She loves these people just as much as I do. She understands. The others? Not so much. They are shifty and uncomfortable and I feel stuck between two worlds.

"Why?" I ask, standing a few feet away from the fire. I cannot bring myself to pick a seat, just like Katrina. She chooses to stand next to me, her eyes brimming with concern and fear.

Warm, chocolate brown eyes, turn to look directly into my eyes. As much as I want to look away, I cannot. They hold me captive, my feet rooted to the ground. The owner sighs and nurses the cup of cocoa I had brought.

"Why do you think, Cynthia? You mean the world to me, to us. We could not let you go alone. If anything happened to you and I wasn't there," his voice cracks, "I'd never be able to forgive myself."

My heart shatters into a million pieces and so does my anger. I feel it ebb away, leaving me dazed. They had come after me, they did not abandon me for good. And although this makes it three more people to be scared for, I am glad to see familiar faces.

Someone on the other side clears their throat. I startle slightly, throwing my head back at the sound. Matthew is glowering at all of them and he says, gruffly, "So? Won't you introduce us all?"

I snap out of my daze; I had not realised I was rendered defenceless. Not just by those beautiful eyes, not just by those crinkles at the corner of his lips when smiled, but by the love he harboured for me in his heart.

Clearing my throat from the emotion clogging it, I try to keep my voice neutral. I point to the one in the centre, the one with my heart. "This is William. My. . . My betrothed."

William beams with pride, almost engulfed in the glow I can see lining his contour. In the crackling campfire, he looks no less than an angel. My angel.

I turn my gaze at the person on William's right. "And this," I smile warmly at those eyes that had been there by my side for so long, "is Tyler. My bestest friend."

"Hey!" The person on William's left says indignantly and I cannot help but giggle a little.

"Right. And she is Christina. My bestest friend ever."

"I got the ever," Christina says in a sing song voice. She sticks out her tongue at Tyler and Katrina, Will, and I laugh at them. Will does not seem perturbed by his sister's presence, I realise with a sudden jolt.

In fact, he seems okay with it, like seeing his supposedly tortured sister, healthy and alive was natural. Like it happened every day to him. I decide not to comment on it and create a tension that is not existing so far.

Looking at the others, including Macaria, I gather that they are uncomfortable and Matthew is positively scowling. The laughter dies in my throat just as quickly. I gesture at them and rattle of their introductions to the newcomers. My friends greet everyone with a smile but Macaria is the only one who returns half of it.

Lorrenia simply waves and Darsh nods. But at Matthew's turn, Will stops. Tyler looks at him dead in the eye and Christina gasps. "She was right. Your. . ."

She never completes her sentence because Matthew grunts and rolls his eyes. It irritates me beyond measure but I hold my tongue back. Instead, a draw in a strangled breath and shift to kneel in front of them.

Will's face is framed by a rough stubble, a feature I had never seen before. Tyler and Christina look just as haggard and travel worn. "How did you reach here?" I manage to croak from the tears clogging my vision.

In the fire's light, I can see the carriage horses resting beside our tents, head nestled in between their hooves. My heart goes out to the tired animals and it breaks once more, just thinking about all the trouble they must have faced.

Finally, breaking the tensed silence, Will begins to explain. His voice is just as soothing as I can remember and my soul welcomes it, like music to my ears. "After Macaria asked us to leave, we naturally, did not. Amelia had heard what had happened to you in the Athena Hall.

"Mrs. Jones was very kind and let us stay at her home. Tyler bore the Mark of Courage, you had fainted in the Hall before his turn. So, he left at times for training with the Keepers."

My eyes widen at that. Tyler was inducted into the Keepers' program? But Will continues, without waiting, "We waited patiently for you, sometimes leaving only to go back home to check in with our families."

He draws in a shuddering breath and I cup his face in my hands. Tyler tenses beside him and Christina looks down, so I do not think much of it. Chalking it up to the weariness of travel, I say, "Go on. It's okay."

"It was a week after we left that we saw Macaria summon horses at your doorstep." He looks uneasily at her, like she might gut him for saying something so simple. "I had no idea what to make of it so I called Tyler and Christina down.

"It was then that Mrs. Jones found us gawking at your house. She pulled us aside and drew up a map to Crete. There is a hidden channel under the water. She promised we would find her son there and my sister, too." His eyes flick towards Katrina and an unspoken understanding passes between them.

"She was sure Macaria was taking you there. Our only obstacle was finding a ride. So, I did." Again, he smiles at Katrina and she nods, her eyes immediately shining with pride. "I stole my dad's carriage. It was the only way.

"By the time we reached your home again, you had left. So we followed the map, stumbling through the darkness and forests and the underwater channel. Darius Jones had made sure it was inaccessible to anyone without prior knowledge."

I cut in, unable to hold back. "And now, he's being punished."

"He's being what?" Matthew whispered dangerously and it all dawns on me.

Of course, Matthew Jones. Amelia's older brother. Son of Darius Jones, the Flawed who escaped the Keepers. "You're him. . ." I mumble, the shock of it all consuming me.

"Yes, Cynthia, yes, I am him." He scoffed at me. "Don't give me that look. That look of pity. I knew you would react that way once you figured me out." Matthew shakes his head again, and looks away. He grits his teeth. "What happened to my father?"

"He was taken for treason." As soon as she says it, Christina bites her tongue and silence descends on the camp. I flinch at the harshness of it but Matthew turns and walks away without another word.

"I'm sorry,' Christina says to no one in particular. We say nothing; we understand.

Tyler picks up the narrative, then, speaking for the first time. His rich voice sounded like the bell of a prayer room, sure and calm. "We reached Crete but we couldn't locate the hideout. We guessed only the Flawed could see it. Or supernatural beings."

His eyes unmistakably land on Macaria who shifts uneasily. "We had no choice but to wait again. Around five days later, we found an area in the plain devastated and ruffled beyond recognition. We followed the tracks from there."

Spreading his hands for emphasis, Tyler concludes, "And here we are." He smiles a little at me, his earlier apprehension flickering out the moment he sees me smile.

I throw my arms around them, sobbing my heart out for the first time in weeks. They hold on to me tightly, all us clasping onto each other for dear life. After what feels like an eternity and still not enough, Darsh coughs slightly.

"So, I guess, you guys will be joining us ahead?"

Will immediately nods his assent, "We are not going anywhere else."

Puckering her lips, Lorrenia exhales heavily. "It makes sense. Nine foes. Flawed, Fortunate, Supernatural."

Christina cocks her head to one side. "Nine foes?"

I shake my head at Darsh, who had immediately sat up straighter at the opportunity to talk, and say, "You guys go ahead and rest. Katrina, you too. I'll explain everything to them in my tent."

When everyone moves to go back to sleep, I catch hold of Macaria's wrist. "I'd like you to stay. Please," I say, and she looks genuinely startled.

It had been days since I had last spoken to her but out of everyone else, I knew in my heart that Macaria could help me explain better. She knew the Prophecies, Hades' past, the First War, everything.

It won't hurt to mend things between us, too, a voice inside me prods. I sigh, knowing it to be true. I may not be Macaria's mother but the way her sliver black eyes sparked at being recognised by me clawed at my chest.

And so, I relent and I spend the night explaining everything to my shell-shocked friends. More than once, I feel another pair of eyes on me but I find no one outside. Matthew's angry countenance flashes in front of my eyes but I push it away.

I would not have people lying to me repeatedly, anymore.

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