He was a little smudgy, but dressed all in red. It couldn't be anybody else. Hi, kiddo, he said, what's the occasion? Claudia's here, if you were worried. Staying over. I told her she could go back any time, but she—

You weren't worried. You explained, minus the part about tearing Richard limb to limb in a snake pit the size of the world, and Henry said: Well, about time, kiddo. If this is how it has to be, I'd love to help.

A few weeks ago this would've made you nervous. But Henry didn't kill your father, and Henry likes you, and Henry knows you, even if you don't know him. You think he'd be sad if he found out you forgot him, and your father, so you won't tell him. He hasn't done anything to deserve that.

Henry gave you directions— told you he could get you straight there, actually, but you asked if he could bring your worm straight there, and he didn't have a good answer for that. You let Annie dig a tunnel instead. You think she's happy digging tunnels, second only to when she's eating people. It's nice being back around somebody with uncomplicated motives.

It's possible Henry thought you were kidding about the worm, from his reaction when Annie busts through the floor. It's smoothed over quickly.

Claudia is excited to see you and doesn't remember to be nonchalant until almost ten minutes later. She shows you her new closed-spiral tattoo, smoothly printed over the old raggedy homemade one. "This would've made the liaisons shit their pants!"

You tell her you like her tattoo, even if your mental Aunt Ruby's having a conniption. Claudia beams and asks if your worm bites. Only if I say so, you say. She beams harder.

Later, you recount to Henry what you remember of Richard's lecture. (Surprisingly a lot. The acting-out helped.) Henry starts off the conversation upright and ends it with his cheek in his hand. "God below."

"Is that bad?" you say. "You can't help? Because if you can't help—"

"Didn't say that. I just, eh... you would be considered very advanced already, by common standards. The Wyrm is sparing in Its favors. It's disturbing that you need to push so much further, and I— I worry, kiddo, that you're going to all this grief for—"

You don't want to hear it. "I need a chance, don't I? And I need to chop Jean Ramsey's head off before I even touch the Wyrm, and she's— who knows what kind of awful stuff she's up to. So we're doing it. Tell me you can help."

"The indomitable Lottie Fawkins." Henry smiles pensively. "I can help. You'll be speeding past me on the Road, but this old dog can teach a few good tricks regardless. Do you think C.R. is asleep by now?"

—

Claudia is asleep enough to puddle. The Herald appeared in your dreams, and you are the Herald, so you should be able to appear in other people's dreams— right? She's dreaming right now. You could just commune with her. That seems way too simple. You glance at Henry. "Do I just...?"

"Whatever your instincts are, I predict they're the right ones."

(2/a lot)