Romy could barely see him through her thick tears. Both trembled.

“Thrym,” she choked.

He held her to his chest, rocking her. “I can’t believe I found you. Romy, I thought. . . .”

“The others?” she asked fearfully, holding him at arm’s distance.

“Deimos, Phobos, and Elara are alive,” he said.

The dam inside her broke. Romy covered her face with both hands and cried as though her heart were breaking.

Thrym stroked her hair. “They’re all alive.”

But his tone was off.

Romy lowered her hands.

“What does that mean?” she asked quietly.

“Deimos is badly hurt. His nanobytes aren’t healing him.” Thrym couldn’t meet her eyes. He choked, “Ro, I’m not sure he has much longer.”

Romy was on her feet. “We have to go quickly. Atlas might be able to help.” She looked behind her, stomach dropping when she found the beach empty. Where was he?

“The man you were with?” Thrym asked curiously, but she wasn’t listening. She pulled Thrym with her, back to their camp.

Atlas was still there, packing his things. He looked up as she slowed her pace.

“I turned around, and you w-weren’t there,” she stuttered.

“I thought I should pack up.” He sounded tense. Something was wrong.

She began to pack up her own shelter. “Our knot mate is very sick. He needs help.” She paused, waiting for him to reassure her. When it didn’t come, she muttered, “The others are alive.”

Atlas nodded. He was either unsurprised or didn’t care.

“You should go and be with them,” he said.

Romy paused her packing and settled back on her heels. “You’re not coming?”

Cloud-grey eyes studied her. It might be her imagination, but she no longer thought them hard, even if she couldn’t understand why he was acting so strangely.

His eyes flickered over her shoulder.

“No. I’m not,” he said, hefting his pack into position.

She’d just found her friends. Romy should be ecstatic, not crushed. She studied the set of his jaw and wondered how it was he’d been laughing just ten minutes before.

“How will I find you?” she asked calmly. Thrym came forwards to stand by her side. She ignored him for the time being.

Atlas rose, extending his palm. In the middle sat a single eucalyptus leaf.

“Goodbye, Rosemary,” he said.

She took the leaf and he turned away. Her mind raced over their conversation.

“Atlas,” she called. “You haven’t told me how to find you.”

He didn’t answer or slow as he strode back in the direction they’d come from.

Romy started after him. But a hand latched on to her wrist. With a start, she remembered Thrym’s presence.

“Romy, leave him,” Thrym said. “He looks dangerous. And we need to go. Dei needs us.”

She was torn and couldn’t believe it. Deimos was family. But the thought of never seeing Atlas again was somehow unbearable.