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My eyes go wide. “A prince? Like…an actual prince?”

He tilts his head, looking confused. “I don’t understand that human phrase. Is there a not-actual prince?”

I don’t know how to explain myself, so I shake my head and stand, and Vyrian follows. We stand there a moment, looking out over the water, and I wonder if Hepyn and Zinni ever come out here.

They’ve told me before that water on Erethar is precious—that it’s kept in large underground caverns. There are no surface oceans at all, and the ones beneath aren’t accessible to most of the creatures who live on Erethar.

I also realize the Vyastil have us believing it’s only them, but it’s clear their world—their universe—is probably just as vast and diverse as ours.

I startle when Vyrian reaches out, and he tugs on a strand of my hair. “May I have this?”

My brow furrows. “My hair? Like…all of it?”

“No.” He pulls back and his fingers sort of twist together in a way that looks a bit like stimming. “I…can we be friends?”

I almost burst into laughter. The question is so honest. “Yeah, sure.”

He brightens like the sun. “May I have your hair?”

“He means a lock of hair,” Dante clarifies, coming closer. “He collects them. Like the Victorians used to do.”

Vyrian puffs out his chest. “I have a large collection now. Six locks. With bows!” He touches his own bows in his ponytails, and I can’t help but smile.

It’s maybe the weirdest request I’ve gotten outside of someone asking if we can make cum-flavored creamer. I think I like this one a bit more. “Yeah. We can cut a piece before I go.”

Dante’s giving me a look I can’t quite read, and when Vyrian walks away, heading toward the water, he steps close. “Thanks for being nice to him. He can be a bit…”

I hold my breath. He’s going to say too much. I’ve gotten that quite a few times in my life too.

“…innocent. Or I guess maybe ignorant,” Dante goes on. “I want him to learn how to survive here, but I’m scared the way the world works is going to break him.”

I shake my head as I look over at Vyrian, who is now digging in the sand, probably looking for more beetles. “I think he’ll be alright.”

Dante smiles, then he goes totally still for a second before clearing his throat. “Eissa’s here.”

I want to ask how the fuck he could possibly know that, but in that moment, Eissa appears.

I haven’t seen Eissa or Luca much since they got back and the portals all closed.

He looks the same, though maybe a bit happier. He’s wearing his linen top and pants, and his hair is in a tight braid down his back. He’s regal. And I think quite a bit older than most Vyastil I know.

He inclines his head as I approach, then he gestures for me to sit. It’s a little too easy to follow Vyastil orders. Probably something I should examine another day.

“I understand you’re aware of Hepyn’s unique needs,” he says as he takes the seat next to me.

That’s one way of putting it. “Dante thinks it’s a bad idea if I offer myself up to help.”

Eissa lets out a long breath, and an undercurrent of melodic hum beneath it. He steeples his fingers, presses the tips to his mouth, and is silent for a long time. I’m starting to think he has no plans to answer me, but then he meets my gaze.

“Although the theory has never been tested, I have a very good reason to believe that most humans wouldn’t survive being a conscious hole for the Vorthex. And I do not wish you to die.”

It takes me a moment for all of Eissa’s words to sink in, then I look over at him. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“The Vorthex are the reason the Vyastil have portal technology. They invented it,” he says. “When it became obvious that the Vyastil were in need of something very specific from humans in order to prolong our lives, they offered us the technology in exchange for a peace treaty.”

My brows fly up. “You were at war?”

“It’s complicated.”