Chap­ter III deep­ens the sus­pense as polit­i­cal ten­sion builds in Heli­um fol­low­ing Thu­vi­a’s mys­te­ri­ous dis­ap­pear­ance. With Prince Carthoris’s hon­or ques­tioned, John Carter acts swift­ly, urg­ing a diplo­mat­ic mis­sion to avoid open war with Ptarth. Tar­dos Mors and oth­er lead­ers agree Cartho­ris must deliv­er Helium’s apol­o­gy and sup­port direct­ly to Thu­van Dihn. Though offi­cial chan­nels are fol­lowed, per­son­al motives mix in—the prince is deter­mined not only to pre­serve Helium’s stand­ing but to under­stand his feel­ings for Thu­via. That mix­ture of duty and emo­tion shapes every step of his jour­ney. Even before take­off, he’s weighed down by uncer­tain­ty, not real­iz­ing dan­ger already lurks with­in his home. The tam­per­ing of his flier’s nav­i­ga­tion, by a dis­guised guard, adds anoth­er lay­er to the unfold­ing plot. Once in the air, Cartho­ris remains unaware his des­ti­na­tion has been altered. As Helium’s fli­er streaks across the skies, the true path leads not toward diplo­ma­cy but into a trap that will test the prince’s resolve and loy­al­ty.

While the skies above Bar­soom offer no warn­ings, Cartho­ris begins to reflect. His thoughts cir­cle back to Thuvia—not only her safe­ty but her affec­tions, torn between him and Kulan Tith. These feel­ings are com­pli­cat­ed by the weight of Mar­t­ian cus­toms and alliances. Though Thu­via is promised to anoth­er, Cartho­ris can­not silence his grow­ing attach­ment. The young prince wres­tles with this inter­nal storm, unsure whether love or hon­or should guide his next words when he reach­es Ptarth. Sleep over­takes him as the hum of the fli­er fills the cab­in, offer­ing tem­po­rary escape from emo­tion­al unrest. Mean­while, the dam­age inflict­ed by the sabo­teur con­tin­ues its course. The com­pass, now mis­aligned, car­ries Cartho­ris fur­ther from Ptarth and clos­er to unfore­seen dan­ger. By the time dawn approach­es, his mis­sion has already been derailed, though the skies out­side remain decep­tive­ly peace­ful.

Wak­ing to the sight of unfa­mil­iar ter­rain, Cartho­ris is quick to act. The city ris­ing below is not Ptarth—it is old­er, aban­doned, and shroud­ed in the leg­ends of Mar­t­ian his­to­ry. As he inspects the con­trols, the real­iza­tion of sab­o­tage dawns too late. A scene near the city’s edge pulls his atten­tion. A red woman, unmis­tak­ably Bar­soo­mi­an, is being dragged by a green war­rior, a sight that reignites his pro­tec­tive instincts. With­out hes­i­ta­tion, he veers the fli­er down­ward. Whether or not it’s Thu­via, some­one is in dan­ger, and he won’t allow harm if he can help it. His response is imme­di­ate, coura­geous, and dri­ven by the val­ues Heli­um holds dear—defense of the inno­cent, regard­less of polit­i­cal align­ment or per­son­al cost.

The aban­doned city looms like a rel­ic of the past, its ruined spires hid­ing both dan­ger and mys­tery. These places are feared across Bar­soom, known for strange dis­ap­pear­ances and myths of crea­tures who dwell in for­got­ten shad­ows. But Cartho­ris does­n’t hes­i­tate. His descent is swift, pre­cise, fueled not only by a hero’s instinct but a man’s hope to make a dif­fer­ence. In this moment, diplo­ma­cy fades, replaced by direct action. His deci­sion places him at the heart of a new con­flict, one shaped not by polit­i­cal coun­cils but raw sur­vival. The woman below, though still uniden­ti­fied, rep­re­sents a chance to pro­tect, to redeem, and to under­stand the deep­er schemes pulling the strings behind the scenes.

Unknown to him, the fate of Barsoom’s frag­ile alliances now hinges not just on what Cartho­ris says in Ptarth, but on what he does here—in a for­got­ten place marked by decep­tion, brav­ery, and the col­li­sion of per­son­al devo­tion with ancient threats. This detour, though unin­tend­ed, is no acci­dent. It marks the begin­ning of a larg­er jour­ney where love, hon­or, and fate col­lide in the dust of a war-scarred world. Through Carthoris’s deter­mi­na­tion and the choic­es he will make from here, the true strength of Helium—and his own heart—will be test­ed in ways nei­ther coun­cil nor prophe­cy could pre­dict.