They rush us as we climb out of the car.
“Huntress!” they shout, jumping up and down to get my attention.
“Dude,” I say to Sillus, “there are so many of you.”
“Family,” he says, looking over the monkeys with pride. “Is mom”—he points to one who jumps up and waves—“dad”—another monkey bounces above the crowd—“brother, sister, niece, nephew, aunt, uncle, cousin.” The group erupts in high-pitched cheers. Turning back to me, Sillus grins. “Family.”
I almost don’t believe it. Little Sillus has a huge family. It seems so . . . human.
In a flash, I’m taken back to when I first met him. That moment—my conversation with the little freak—seemed so ordinary at the time. He was just another beastie, living in the wrong realm.
“All right, monkeys,” I say to the excited group. “If you want to help—”
“Yes, help.”
“Help huntress.”
“Help, help, help.”
My words drown in the sea of shouts. Nick coughs to cover up a laugh. I hold up my hand, and eventually they calm down.
“If you want to help,” I try again, giving them a glare when they look like they want to riot again, “then get in my car.”
Without hesitation, the entire group races for my Mustang. While they are climbing over each other to get inside, I look down at Sillus to find him beaming with pride.
Finding him was a turning point. He seemed so . . . innocent. Every creature I had encountered up until then had been a monster in the worst sense, intent on killing or controlling humans. Sillus just wanted to live in the city, to make his home in this empty lot and get by like any one of the city’s millions of residents.
From that moment, I looked at monsters differently. Instead of grouping them into a single black (never white) category, I started seeing shades of gray.
Since then, everything has changed. I’m proud to call some monsters my friends. And Sillus is first among them—which makes what I’m about to ask him even harder.
“Sillus,” I say, kneeling down on the ground in front of him, “I need a favor.”
I slip my arms around his tiny body and hug him. The look Nick gives me over the furry head is full of pride and understanding.
“Anything, huntress,” he says with a serious look. “Sillus do anything for huntress.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. That’s where the guilt comes in.
I sigh. “You might not want to do this.”
He scowls but says, “Anything. Swear.”
Taking in a deep breath, I say, “I need to send you back.”
I see his earnestness flicker. “Back?”
“I need you to go back,” I explain, “to let everyone know.”
“The war is coming,” Nick says. “They need to be ready.”
I nod. “We will need their help from the inside.”
Sillus jumps to his feet. “Sillus understand. Sillus help.”
I smile. It’s weird, but I’ve grown to really like the little guy. I like having him around. When my sisters and I open the door and defeat the factions on either side—because I know we will—maybe he’ll be able to live here full-time, without fear of being sent back again.
The risk, if we don’t succeed, is too great to even consider. I won’t let the possibility of defeat enter the realm of possibility. If he is trapped inside and we fail to open the door, he and every other creature in the abyss will die instantly.
The pressure only drives me harder.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I push aside my guilt.
We all have to take risks in this situation. We’re all in danger until it’s over, one way or another.
With a brave smile, he lifts up his foot. As I sink my fangs into him, I hope he gets there in time and that we all get through this alive.
When Sillus is gone, I sit back on my heels and sigh. There’s an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. I stare up at the underside of the bridge, taking a moment to get my emotions under control. They’re not going to help me win this war; if anything, they’ll distract me. So many people are counting on me—my sisters, our friends, our families, thousands upon thousands of people who don’t even know I exist. It’s overwhelming if I think about it too much.
Nick kneels down in front of me.
“I need to go, too.”
“What?” I ask, too shocked to hide it. “What do you mean?”
He can’t leave. He can’t abandon me. I need him. I don’t want to do this alone.
After four years of going it solo—a whole lifetime, really, if I don’t count time with my ex-parents—it’s amazing how much I’ve come to rely on others—Nick, my sisters, everyone fighting on our side in this war. Guess loner Gretchen is a thing of the past.
“It’s time for me to rally the third faction,” Nick says, “to spread the word that the prophesied time has come.”
He stands, takes my hand, and pulls me back to my feet.
“You need as many allies as you can find,” he says. “The door will not open quietly.”
As much as I know he’s right, I still don’t want him to go. But what I want has never mattered very much. Duty and destiny come first.
“Fine,” I say, nodding. I know this is what he needs to do, even though I want him at my side, where I can protect him. Then, daring to reveal some of my feelings for him, I add, “Be careful.”