In the Zephyr Glider, severely thousand meters above land

When they boarded the rebel-stolen glider, it had been a few hours, and it was starting to get dark.

“You should get some sleep. We don't know what we'll face when we land,” Sly said. She was speaking to the back of Lyra’s head, who was leaning against the railing of the glider.

“Couldn't sleep.” That was all Lyra said. She stared into the open nighttime sky of sparkling stars and a bright moonlight bay.

“It's about what those Sovran’s said?”

Lyra didn't need to say anything. Only her sagged shoulders gave away everything.

“He's still out there, you know. One mention of him means nothing.” She walked to Lyra, catching a glimpse of her Face.

Her lip pursed. Her eyes stared blankly into nothing. “I just… can't help question…. Is what I'm doing the right thing?”

“And why wouldn't it be? He might have said those things for you, but you saw It yourself. You know that wasn't Eamon but Blackthorn. That boy needs you. He's needed someone for a long time, and you reached out a hand to pull him up. He's just been too used to drowning to think that no one would care to save him.”

Lyra’s lip quivered. She turned to Sly with tears in her eyes and fell into Sly, bawling her eyes out. Sly comforted her tightly, rubbing her hair as she cooed to her in hushed shh…shh noises.

Once her crying ceased, Sly released her. Yet she kept her hands on Lyra’s arm to steady her as she looked at her with a tilt of her head and a concerned look on her face.

“Better?”

Lyra bobbed her head with a small, hummed agreement.

“Don't lose faith now, Lysandra Ashbourne. Saint Lumos guides you, all of us, including Eamon. We will find him, hear me?”

She nodded.

“Good.” Releasing her shoulders. “Get some sleep soon.” She headed back toward the inside.

“Where are you going now?”

“Figured I see if the captain has any liquor on board.”

Lyra snorted with a smile. “Really, Sly? Shouldn't you be sleeping too, not getting drunk?”

She waved casually to her. “Pish-posh, I can fight drunk or sober. That is, years of fighting paid off– don't try that at home.”

She entered through the doors. Lyra chuckled, turning back to the sky when she heard the door open with a swish.

“No, Sly, I will not be your drinking buddy. You know I'm not legally able to–”

She stopped her sentence, seeing that the person was not Sly but the silver-haired pixie rebel, Jude.

“What do you want?” Lyra snapped at the girl.

Jude grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just thought you'd like to know where your boy is?”

Lyra’s frown deepened. “I'm not in the mood for your games.”

“Oh, certainly not.” she smiled, almost mocking. “But I just assumed that you might have been the girl in the photo he was carrying.”

Lyra’s heart leaped in her throat. The picture. He still has it. It was one of them as kids. When she met him on the hill, she had stashed it in his pockets. She had hoped it would help him to remember.

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“Seems I have your attention now,” Jude couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. “So, if you want answers about where he's been and what he's been up to, you'll be a good Little locksmith.”

Lyra had to grit back a quip at the tip of her tongue. “Fine. Tell me.”

•†•

Ludwig Klause had not expected the scene before him: Blackthorn covered in blood– the Ash Borne demon, too, coveted in the dark liquid– stood behind him.

Yet, seeing it, Klause didn't show any fear.

“You don't look very scared or surprised for that matter?” Blackthorn asked.

“What's there to be scared of?” Klause answered. “I always knew that the Children of Deimos, Walsh, would come find me.”

Even Blackthorn seemed impressed by his deduction skills. “You're good. Guess this makes things easier. Let's go.”

Klause sighed. There was no point to run. He even knew that the Coalition was no more, possibly his doing.

“Just let me ask one thing, as it will ease the suspicion I had.”

Blackthorn rolled his eyes but decided to let him speak. “What is it?”

“You're one of the Dormant’s, aren't you? The Homunculus Walsh and I created in presiding with the Empire's demands?” Blackthorn said nothing, but the dagger-like look in his eyes said it all.

“I figured as much. After the Empire wanted us to create human-like weapons that were more monstrous than human, I left. Pre-made or not, all life should be respected, as Lumos taught. Walsh seemed to agree with that idea, but then he started remarking about the Children of Deimos, and no mere man should have this power besides Deimos himself. I don't know how long he has been in contact with whomever, but he changed after that, and that was the last time I saw him. Now, I can only assume the Empire has acquired mine, and possibly Walsh's too, of the creation of Homunculus. That's why he sent you to find me, yes? Because of my knowledge of Homunculus and Deimos?”

Blackthorn grunted. “Your point in all this?” Ignoring his question at the end.

Klause shook his head. He held up his wrists. There was no escaping. He had accepted his fate. “Nothing but the ramblings of a man with guilt hoping to be judged mercifully.”

Blackthorn smirked. “Mercy? It's a little too late for Mercy, don't you think? Don't worry you'll be judged by your ole’ Saint Lumos, but not before you have a chat with Walsh himself. Now come, we're going on a little trip.”

“To where?” Though Klause knew the answer already.

Blackthorn smiled. “Why, to meet your old partner. I'm sure Walsh will be delighted to see you again.”

•†•

Jude had told Lyra everything.

“... And that's pretty much it. He seemed normal at first, but something dark layered within there. It was almost like he was more than one person wrapped in there, crazy, right?”

Lyra stiffened. She wouldn't tell a civilian–even an illegal one–about Eamon being a Homunculus and Blackthorn his dormant.

“Yeah, crazy. Did he say where he was going? What mission was he on?”

Jude shook her head. “Nope. Those details were kept classified from us. All I know is that he needed to get into the Empire, and the closest possible way to get there without walking through the front gates was to go to the Hinterland. It's the border between the Empire and the Lysandrian Kingdom, so the law can be rather skewed that even the Empire can't touch it. Lots of criminals and illegal happenings end up there.”

The question was: why did he need to go there? Was he looking for something? Sent by Walsh? The answer stumped Lyra.

Jude snapped her fingers. Her eyes filled with realization. “I do remember this. He wasn't alone.”

Lyra frowned. “What do you mean?” She wondered if it was another Sovran with him.

“Yeah, some really tall guy. He wore bandages all over him, had long black hair, and his skin looked gray. When I asked if that was his father, he said no, that he was some family member who he was returning to his father.”

Lyra wasn't sure who this other ‘family member’ was but knew that the ‘father’ he was returning had to be Walsh, whatever.

So Walsh needed this person and something in the Hinterlands. I guess we better see what.

“Thanks, this information is helpful.”

“Yeah, whatever is up with him, he has some unrequited feelings buried deep down. It's not my place to tell you, so hopefully, he will let you know. You might have been annoying, but no one shouldn't have to feel what if.”

“And even if you're a criminal, you have a good heart,” Lyra told her. “I misjudged you. Course, I don't appreciate you trying to put the moves on him.”

She shrugged. “Hey, don't blame me. Technically, he didn't confirm what you were until he blurted out a change of heart at the last second. Guess you must be something really special.”

Lyra’s cheeks grew warm. She wanted to ask Jude what was said– she had a feeling she'd tell her– but… a part of her wanted it to be said from his lips. Whatever it was. Her heart accelerated at the thought.

“Anyway,” Jude said. “Now that is out of the way, you better get some sleep. We’ll be landing in several hours.”

Agreeing to get some rest, the two girls returned to the ship to their respective locations.

As Lyra walked to her room, she prayed to the goddess on behalf of Eamon: "Please watch over him."