AS THEY TRAVEL inland, Rumi becomes more and more convinced that Caldera will recover from its near miss with destruction. The volcanic smoke has mostly disappeared. There’s still a charred scent to the air, still a haze to the distant horizon, but the day skies right overhead are clear and blue, the night skies black and untinged by the red glow that was once at the horizon. The shadowwalkers’ frantic plan—and the long-ago work of the two-legs, when they built that tunnel for their hunched wheeled creatures, and then carved their cryptic advice—prevented disaster.

“Hey, can we pass by the ziggurat while we’re on our way to the panther forest?” Gogi asks. “It might be nice to stroll down memory lane.”

“It will cost us zero point seven extra days,” Rumi replies, “but if Mez is okay with the delay, I’d like the opportunity to examine the old ziggurat carvings again.”

“We’ll see,” Mez says as she picks her way over a particularly muscular liana vine. “We’ve only just started. We have a long time yet before we’re near Caldera’s center.”

“I’d vote for visiting the ziggurat too,” Sky says, his voice still weak from his brush with death. “It’s fitting, I think, to visit the place where Caldera’s worries began, now that they’re over.”

“Let’s not speak too soon,” Mez warns, eyes scanning the jungle.

Rumi nods at Sky. “I remember when we all first came together. We were so nervous and suspicious of one another.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Mez peed her fur when she first arrived,” Lima says.

“I did not!”

“I miss Niko the catfish,” Lima says. “It must have been so hard for him, a fish around so many land creatures. I was impressed he even made it to the ziggurat.” She pauses, thinking. “And getting his bones crunched by Auriel, until he died. That must have been hard for him too.”

“He might have bonded with the grouper we met under the sea,” Rumi says. “I really will go find it after this is all over.”

“You always were true to your word,” Sky says. “We’re lucky to have you among the Protectors of Caldera.”

“Nah, I’ve decided we should go with Rainforest Squad,” Lima announces.

“Anyway,” Gogi says, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. “The ziggurat is far away still, and we don’t want to overexert ourselves. How about a power nap before we—whoa!”

Mez lets out a high-pitched squeal as Gogi leaps into a thicket. “What are you doing?” Rumi asks, but then he sees what set Gogi’s reflexes firing.

The very leaves of the trees themselves have become sharp teeth, ferocious sharp teeth—

Mist has Mez’s neck in his mouth.

Mist has pounced right into their midst.

Mez is trapped in his jaws.

Blood trickles down calico fur as Mist crunches down.

“No, no!” Rumi tries to cry, but his voice won’t make a sound, the shock is too great, he can do nothing but stare at Mist with Mez in his mouth.

How can this be happening?

Is this a dream?

Rumi realizes it’s not, it’s definitely not, when Gogi hurls a fan of fire at Mist’s tail, setting the white fur ablaze. Mist yelps and rolls away, and instantly Mez whirls to the attack, claws out and jaws open. As Mist skulks away, slapping his smoldering tail against the ground as he goes, Mez leaps on him. Her cousin is slowed by his awkward position, and she’s able to lunge onto his back, teeth locked around his neck. In a moment, the ambush has turned.

Rumi sends out a blast of air, but he can’t get a direct hit on Mist without striking Mez too, so he can only watch, mouth agape, as Mez and Mist go tumbling. They’re a blur of white and calico, leaves and dirt flying.

Gogi’s the first to mobilize, racing toward the combatants. He skids to a stop. It’s not until Rumi’s hops have allowed him to catch up that the frog can see why Gogi has held still.

Mez is on top of Mist, pinning him on his back. They’ve rolled over Sky in the process, and he lies off to one side, motionless. Mez howls as she prepares to make the fatal bite. “You followed us,” Mez says. “You tailed us and waited for the moment to sneak attack. You could have joined us at any time, but you didn’t. You would have burned up with the rainforest, but we saved you—and then you ambush me from out of nowhere.”

Mist struggles to break free, but Mez is too strong. “Of course I couldn’t let you defeat me and not try for revenge,” he spits. “I’d sooner die.”

“That you will. This is the last time you betray us, cousin,” Mez says. “I’m all out of forgiveness. Now I only ask that you forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

After one agonized yowl, she clamps her teeth around Mist’s throat. He flails, using his last energy to try to get free, but he can’t. Beneath Mez’s ferocious grip, he seems beyond even using his magic. Finally he goes motionless, his head lolling to one side.

Still Mez doesn’t release him. She thrashes, the muscles of her jaws clenching tight. It’s too gruesome; Rumi has to look away.

“Shh, Mez, it’s over,” Gogi says. Rumi allows himself to look, and sees Gogi with his hand on Mez’s haunch. She’s released her cousin’s still body and is panting with exhaustion, her eyes closed.

Lima’s next to Sky, helping him up. “Sky will live!” she says. “He got clawed a bit when the panthers rolled over him, but it’s not too deep. I don’t think he will even need any healing magic.”

Sky caws weakly. “I’ll take some anyway, if you’re offering.”

Rumi hops over to take a good look at Mist’s motionless body. “You did all you could, Mez. You gave him every chance.”

She nods. “I promised myself I would put a final stop to him if he attacked again. That I wouldn’t give him another chance to hurt the ones I love. But still, I hoped I wouldn’t have to kill my own cousin.”

Mez is interrupted by eerie laughter. “No, it can’t be,” she sputters, springing to all fours.

Rumi’s brain struggles to catch up: Mist’s body is not dead. Mist’s body is laughing. Mist is not dead. Mist is . . . still alive!

Mist continues his chilling laughter as he sits up. He’s bloodied around his neck, but otherwise he seems . . . fine. Impossibly fine. He growls at Mez. “You’ve failed at every promise you made. You were banished from our family. You let the Ant Queen get away so many times. And now you can’t even kill me.”

Mez hisses and prepares to go back on the offensive.

“Save your energy,” Mist says. “I can no longer be killed. Didn’t you wonder why the nightwalker cult worshipped me as a god? Because I am one, cousin. I’m immortal.”

“But . . . how?” Gogi asks.

“The lunar eclipse released the magical energies that resided in the Ant Queen,” Rumi says as the horrible truth dawns on him. “The two-legs imprisoned her because she couldn’t be killed. Just like he received some of our magic, Mist must have also received the Ant Queen’s power to live forever.”

Mist laughs again. It’s a hollow, self-mocking sound, the unhappiest laughter Rumi has ever heard. “You should listen to your little frog friend, Mez,” Mist says. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

Mez’s ears go flat, her whiskers pull alongside her cheeks, and she closes her eyes.

When she opens them, though, there’s a fiery resolve in her eyes. “Maybe you’re right, and I’ll never be rid of you. But Caldera will be.”

Rumi’s eyes go wide. What does that mean?

“First,” Mez says shrewdly, staring Mist down with flat ears and bared teeth, “we have to subdue you.”

Though he’s not sure what Mez has planned, Rumi takes a hop toward Mist. The white panther’s brows rise. “What do you think you’re going to do, tree frog? Kill me with breezes?”

“Why, you big—” Gogi starts to say, flames licking on his palms.

“No, Gogi,” Rumi says. “Let me take care of this.”

He opens his mouth. He closes his mouth. Time to try out the full new extent of his magic.

Rumi lifts his hands up to the sky. Mist watches him, confused.

There’s no holding back, not anymore. That nagging guilty voice that tormented him for so long has disappeared.

“See you on the other side,” Rumi says.

He brings his hands down.

With them comes a concentrated wind, a cylinder of gale, a column of cyclone. It smacks Mist right on the top of his head and sends him sprawling on the earth. He rolls to a stop, his tongue lolling.

The wind holds for a moment, flattening Mist’s white fur, then it dissipates.

Rumi hops over and listens for breathing. “He’s unconscious,” he reports, satisfied. “Wow. That worked even better than I hoped. And if he acts up again, I’ll smash him with another column of air.”

Rumi waits for an answer. “Did you all hear me?”

He looks over to see his friends staring at him slack-jawed, dumbfounded in amazement. Their wind-mussed hair and feathers stick out in all directions, making them all look a little crazy.

“Nifty, huh?” Rumi asks.

“Rumi,” Gogi says, hands over his mouth. “That. Was. Amazing.”