I climb out of the tent half an hour later, having eaten and freshened myself up as much as I can. The satellite phone is in my hand; I am unsure if I will ever let it go. Marcus has already left. Saying a tearful farewell to Sonya; promising that she will be reunited with Casey soon.

I hold on to that promise as if he has voiced it to me.

Pisces turns from his vigilant stance in front of the tent and lets his eyes coast over my body. I stand tall and do not let him see I am still feeling weak. A show of power had been necessary, and from what Marcus has reported, it succeeded to some degree. We have more of Pyrkagia on side, but Mikkos and Leon are still with my mother, and their influence is not to be ignored, either.

Pisces nods his head to me and returns his attention to the camp at large. Hippolytos jumps up and down on his feet, swinging his arms at his side excitedly.

“Grandfather was pleased,” he says.

I stare at him but don't offer a word.

“You quoted him,” Hippolytos explains.

I grimace; it had seemed appropriate at the time.

“Aeras is at your service, your Highness,” he offers, and I suck in a breath of air.

“Your grandfather is not Rigas,” I say on the exhale.

“My grandfather has his ways,” is all the shaman’s grandson says.

I nod my head and accept the offering for what it is.

“And Nero?” I ask Pisces.

Pisces scowls at me. He is not in his monstrous form this morning. But he towers over Hippolytos and me easily.

“My father wishes to see which way the fish will swim,” the Water Prince says. Clearly a Nero saying.

“He won’t commit until I face my father?” I query.

Pisces shakes his head. “My Rigas won’t commit until you dethrone your father.”

It is not entirely unexpected. I had hoped the Nero would side with their closest allies; Aeras. But Aeras’ commitment to my cause is based on a crazy prophet’s word. The Nero Rigas is more circumspect than that.

Should my father win the challenge, though, balance will not be maintained. Alliances will be forgotten. The world will revert to what it had once been prior to Aetheros’ return and Aether’s sacrifice.

I can not allow that.

“Will your Rigas interfere?” I ask.

Pisces scowls at me.

“He has honour,” he says.

“And you, Pisces, Prince of Nero?”

A slow smile spreads Pisces’ lips, displaying a ragged strip of very sharp teeth.

“I am at Aether’s service,” he says.

I nod my head. For now, it’s the best I can do. I won't win the Water King over before the challenge is set, but having his favourite son in our court may be enough to convince him in the end.

Of course, beating my father in the challenge is likely to convince him, as well.

It’s likely to convince everyone.

The weight of what lies ahead hits me hard, and I almost stagger. It has nothing to do with the continued weakness in my legs. I have to win this. I have to win this for Cassandra. But even more importantly, I have to win this challenge for the world.

I am unsure if a conversation with my father can persuade him. I doubt it, but I must try. If I can reach him, at least the part of him that is still sane; perhaps I can save us the bloodshed. I do not wish to kill my father. It is not something I have ever coveted in the past. The crown was always a distant burden; one I could avoid if I kept my nose clean.

But then I met Casey. I fell for a Gi. And my careful house of cards came tumbling down around my ears, and my father disowned me.

An exiled Prince of Pyrkagia. But you know what they say…you can take the Prince out of Pyrkagia, but you can never take Pyrkagia out of the Prince.

Pyrkagia needs this as much as the world needs stability.

There is a long list of reasons why I must win this challenge and a corresponding weight on my shoulders to succeed.

Failure is not an option, but right now I am unsure if success is guaranteed.

I nod my head to Pisces and then walk out into the camp. Pyrkagia needs to see me.

I spend an hour greeting my people. Hearing their concerns. Accepting their support when given freely. There are a few among the number who talk wistfully of seeking out the Gi. Earth and Fire. Fire and Earth. We had forgotten what those two Elements together mean.

It is a start. But a cloud hangs over us all. A dark shadow that blocks out the warmth of the sun. I reassure as many of my people as I can, but I make no promises. If I am to be their King, they must see me as being beyond honest.

Even if I win this, reunification with the Gi is not certain. Pyrgos lies in ruins. Pyrkagia is broken just as completely. To fix it, we must heal. Would we heal in the Amazon or closer to our home in New Zealand? Pyrgos can be rebuilt.

But should it?

So many atrocities.

I stand at the edge of the camp and stare out across the water to Rangitoto Island. The volcano has not stopped rumbling since the End of Days. I am unsure if it is Gi unsettled until Pyrkagia is settled. Or whether this country has changed beyond recognition and there is no chance at all to reverse it.

If we leave, would New Zealand heal?

I am aware that Pisces has shadowed me, leaving Hippolytos at the tent guarding our still unconscious team. I am thankful for that small service. Pisces’ presence sends a message to the Nero. I cannot allow hubris to undermine what that brings.

And I am still weak.

I stare down at the satellite phone in my hand and then dial the number Noah the Alchemist has programmed into the machine.

It rings twice before she answers. Once for her to draw a startled breath. Twice for her to be relieved. I close my eyes as Casey’s voice sounds out over the airwaves.

“Theo,” she says.

“Oraia,” I manage to reply.

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

I cannot speak. I have a lump the size of Greece inside my throat. My heart is beating mercilessly. I squeeze the satellite phone’s casing, hearing it crack. It takes an enormous amount of effort to unfurl my fingers. To breathe.

“It’s OK,” she says. “I’m OK,” she whispers. And then she tells me about the trees and the birds and the fish in a newly recreated Amazon River. And I close my eyes, and I listen to her beautiful voice, and I see myself at her side, looking out on the vastness of the Amazon. The Amazon as it will one day again be.

“You are magnificent,” I eventually say.

“I have help,” she admits. “Rhea has become a godsend. I don’t know what I would do without her guidance. She carries a bow and arrow everywhere she goes,” she adds, sounding bemused by the notion. “A true Amazonian.”

She has a guard. I cannot explain how that eases my worry.

“And Marcus is there?” I ask. Of course he is there, she has the satellite phone.

Casey laughs. And it’s light and free and lifts me up from the ground and lets me float above everything.

For a brief moment in time, my worries are forgotten. My Thisavros is happy.

“He’s teaching the hunters to play soccer with an enormous Kapok seed for a ball. It’s hilarious.”

I smile and stare out to sea.

“Thank you,” she says.

“For what, Oraia?”

“For sending him to me.”

“He is doing me a service,” I say.

She huffs out a breath of air.

“I know you’re facing a deadly challenge,” she whispers as if voicing the words louder would tempt fate somehow. “I know you need people you can trust around you right now.”

“Perhaps I do not trust Marcus,” I offer to tease.

“Yeah. That's it,” she says, clearly not believing me.

“He is where I need him to be,” I say.

Silence and then. “We’re OK, Theo.” Her and the baby.

I close my eyes and just breathe.

“I am coming to you, Oraia,” I say. And my mind is made up.

Pyrkagia will thrive in the Amazon. The Pyrgos will rot alongside the corpse of my father.

New Zealand was once home to me. But my home is now with Casey.

“I am coming to you,” I repeat.

She says nothing, knowing as I know that what lies ahead could be the death of me. For a long while, we just listen to each other breathe.

And then Pisces grumbles inaudibly behind me, and I am forced to turn my attention to New Zealand.

“What was that?” Casey says.

I turn and look over my shoulder, seeing Melita; bruised, battered, robes torn, blood marring the white starkly. She calls my name, then collapses. Pisces just manages to catch her before she hits the dirt at her feet.

“Who was that?” Casey demands.

It would be amusing if it weren't so tragic.

My mother's first move. And I must now choose how to answer.

I tell Casey I’ll call her back, and then I walk toward the Queen’s offering.