The mood was somber on the flight back to their world. Rhas curled up again in the comfortable spot it had found between Anecoya’s wings, though now it looked like a cat at the end of its days, when on the journey outwards it had appeared far more youthful. Zogrusz hoped that once they alighted on the planet again it would regain its vitality – Rhas was his oldest friend, and now that he knew what a danger his kind posed to worlds, he couldn’t help but appreciate how kind the cat had been during their first meeting. It would have been perfectly reasonable if the world mind had spurned him or tried to eject him from the planet, but it had not. Perhaps Rhas had thought he was different from other Eldritch Horrors, and after observing Zogrusz could not imagine him destroying life on this world. It must have been a terrible surprise when Rhas had realized that the real threat was not Zogrusz, but something else his presence would eventually attract.

This was what he brooded about as they soared through the black between the stars. Now that their faint, flickering hope had been fully extinguished, a sharp-toothed guilt was gnawing at his insides. He couldn’t even abandon Rhas’s world, or attempt to change the nature of the religion he’d founded into something less enticing to Ycthitlig. The Reaper was coming no matter what, and it knew a feast awaited it.

Anecoya was silent as well, though Zogrusz could sense the smoldering anger rolling off the goddess. She had been incensed that the Wanderer had tricked them into rescuing his ward when he knew there was no chance they could use the knowledge he offered to avert the coming cataclysm. It had taken all of Rhas’s considerable diplomatic skills to keep her from tearing apart the fish’s innards right then and there.

Although the three of them remained quiet on the journey home, lost in their exhaustion, guilt, or anger, Qala more than filled the silence with her breathless chatter. It was literally breathless, of course, since sound could not travel in the depths of the cosmos, but she also rarely paused for even a moment in her telepathic ramblings. Zogrusz made an attempt to wall off his mind from the girl so he could fully sink into his melancholic despair, but her words kept pouring into his mind with the same liquid ease as before.

Can I have one of these feathers? Do they stay hot even after they come out? Why do you think those snakes on the moon built their city underground? Do you think it was weird they were wearing clothes? How does a snake even put on clothes?>

He did not offer up any answers to this cascade of questions, and eventually her babbling faded into a hum in the back of his mind . . . though she never stopped talking. None of the others seemed inclined to engage with her either, but this did not seem to deter the girl in the slightest. It was not until the cloud-banded majesty of Rhas’s world appeared before them that she finally fell silent.

It did not last long. Can you hear them?> Qala murmured, her awe and excitement seeping across the link between their minds. So many thoughts! I’ve never . . . I’ve never . . .> She trailed away, and Zogrusz glanced at her in mild concern where she was sitting cross-legged on a bed of feathers. She had a dazed, vacant look on her face, and then shook her head fiercely, as if to clear it. It’s so rich! Ixia always said I shouldn’t go to a world filled with intelligent life until I’d learned to control my powers, and now I can see why. And I thought the fungi were a bunch of chatterboxes!>

Anecoya entered a steep enough descent that they were forced to hold tight to her feathers, and when she broke through the clouds Zogrusz noticed a familiar fang of black rock rising from the undulating sea of green spread below. He felt a pang of homesickness as they turned in a wide gyre over his mountain, peering down at the rocky slopes to see if there was still an encampment of his followers. He didn’t see any makeshift buildings or threads of smoke, which suggested they hadn’t returned after Anecoya had terrified them by destroying the entrance to his home. His faith was still strong elsewhere in the world, though, as the thin trickle that had stretched all the way to the other star was once more a raging flood. It was delicious, though the knowledge that it was this sweet nectar that was drawing Ycthitlig ever-closer was a bit sobering and made it hard to fully enjoy.

To his slight surprise, rather than swooping down to the ruin of his temple’s façade Anecoya instead alighted on one of the small hills clustered near the mountain’s base – perhaps even the same one where Rhas had first approached him all those many years ago. At that time wildflowers had speckled the green field on its summit, but this was a bleaker season and what grass remained was sere and brittle.

The cat rose and moved stiffly over to the edge of the bird’s great back. It clearly wanted to get off, so Zogrusz scooped Rhas up and leaped down, then deposited it among the dying grass. Immediately a shudder passed through Rhas, its tail quivering with pleasure.

“Oh, that is so much better,” it said, and Zogrusz could see the years that had accreted during their journey immediately begin to melt away.

Qala stumbled past the cat, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted, as if she was struggling to accept some surprising revelation. “How do you all deal with this racket?” she breathed, then blinked furiously. “Millions of minds, every one its own small little universe . . .”

A wave of heated air buffeted Zogrusz and nearly sent Qala sprawling as Anecoya shifted into her human form. The long flight seemed to have done little to soften her mood – her jaw was clenched, and her gaze looked sharp enough to cut glass.

“So that was all just a huge waste of time,” she snapped. Sparks were drifting from her crackling hair, and around her feet the grass had been blackened by heat.

“No, it wasn’t!” Qala cried, grinning as she spread her arms wide. “You brought me back with you!”

Anecoya snorted, turning away from the little girl. “And what are you going to do about the Reaper? Annoy it to death?”

“Annie . . .” Rhas began, but the Phoenix cut the cat off by throwing up her hands and stalking away.

“I was preparing to defend this world when you pulled me away to go on this fool’s errand,” she snapped, jabbing a finger back at Zogrusz without turning around. “Don’t bother me again until his friend gets here.”

Her hair ignited into flame, crimson feathers emerging as her body rippled and twisted. In a heartbeat she had returned to her avian shape, though much smaller than before, and then with a shriek she beat her blazing wings and lifted into the sky once more.

Zogrusz watched the Phoenix until she was nothing but a fading ember in the cloudless blue. A sniffle from Qala brought his attention to the girl, and he saw that she was staring after Anecoya with a dejected expression.

“Don’t worry about her, my dear,” Rhas said, and Zogrusz was relieved to hear some of the old energy in the cat’s voice. “She’s just not very good at dealing with frustration. I promise she will apologize later for what she said. In the meantime, I suggest you allow me to show you some of the wonders my world contains.”

The clouds cleared from Qala’s face almost immediately, and she grinned, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Wonders? Really? I want to see!”

“Excellent,” Rhas said, sitting back on its haunches. It scratched behind an ear, and then a shiver passed through him before his body suddenly swelled to the size of a tiger.

Qala clapped her hands together delightedly, then rushed forward to wrap her arms around the world spirit and bury her face in its neck-fur.

“Climb up, child,” Rhas said, pulling away from her so that it could crouch down low enough for her to clamber onto its back. Which she quickly did, giggling as the cat stood again with her legs now straddling it, her little hands clutching at its moon-colored fur to keep herself from sliding off.

“That’s it, then?” Zogrusz asked. “There’s nothing else to be done?”

Rhas swung his great head to him, the sadness in the world spirit's eyes answering his question before it even spoke. “You heard the Wanderer. The attention of a Reaper is a death sentence for a world. But I do not intend to wallow in despair in my last moments – I would rather spend that time enjoying the things I love most in my world.” The cat slowly blinked its great golden eyes, then sighed deeply. “So long as we live, there is hope. Perhaps a solution will present itself to one of us, Zog. Until then I will be wandering about with Qala here.”

“Let’s gooooo!” the girl cried, kicking her heels into Rhas’s flanks.

The cat chuckled, shaking its head as it turned away from him. Zogrusz watched the world spirit as it ambled down the slope, its tail flicking back and forth while the little girl bounced excitedly on its back. The sound of her chattering drifted to him long after they had vanished over a little swell, and then finally even that faded and he was left alone atop the hill except for the incessant droning of insects and the wind whispering through the dead grass.