Fall

Atlas

What offer? How much did it offer? Was she toying with them?

Atlas and Hudson agreed on the first question to ask. “Who offered?”

Nell leaned back in her chair. “I’m glad you still can speak. The offer was made by a joint representation of the East and West. King Kayden and Queen Celia have not only granted our borders and nation status, but more than favorable trading rights and the choice of unbonded fera from any of their trappers.”

“You make it sound as if you already accepted their offer,” Milla said.

“Let it never be recorded that I was an unjust leader.” Nell’s eyes flitted to the map, then to the Northern group around her. “I will allow you to make a counter offer.”

“Even that is generous,” Eliza muttered.

This is not good. Hudson was clearly worried. We need to buy time.

Buy time for what? Atlas thought. We are in the thick of things. There is only here and now.

And what happens after that, Hudson added. Keep them busy, and I will think.

Atlas resolved himself to a new mission, and put a thin mental wall between them, to enclose Hudson in his den of thoughts.

One way to buy time was talk. “What do you need?” Atlas said.

Skye gave him an incredulous glance. Milla shifted her eyes to him, waiting to see what his plan was. Piper seemed uncomfortable with the tension, while Finch had a faint smile. The spy was at ease in a war of words. Would he be so confident once actions backed them?

“I need miracles. Little miracles in the shapes of cubes and spheres, that can change into unbelievable devices. Loy and Micah kept me well informed of Elbe’s advancements, and at one point I considered kidnapping your inventor.” Nell was smug.

As if she could ever accomplish that feat! Atlas fumed.

“Cooper?” whispered Piper.

“Yes. That one.” Nell tapped her manicured nails on the desk. The clacking sound irritated Atlas. “But then it came to my attention that vitrum loses its power the farther from the North it gets. By the time a vitrum plant could reach Trene, it would be little more than a pretty weed. Yet you continue to use it in other forms to withstand its weakened state outside your borders.”

Atlas was starting to see where Loy acquired his lengthy speeches. “And?”

“What my mother is trying to say,” Eliza interjected, “is that we want you to make vitrum that can grow outside the North. A stronger version.”

“That’s impossible,” Milla stated flatly. “You are asking for the moon.”

Nell chuckled, and stared out the window. Rain blew inside the room, and spit on Atlas’s map. It was nearly as bad as if the Trene leaders had spit on it themselves.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Nell said. “You will develop that vitrum, or I will let the friendly East-Western soldiers residing below… escort you to our neighbor. King Kayden loves visitors.”

Atlas tore down the mental barrier to his fera. Do you have any ideas?

Hudson was sullen. No.

Augh! They were trapped. Nell knew it. Atlas knew it. The rest of them probably did as well.

Nell’s grin was close to ecstatic. “The vitrum, of course, is the icing on the cake of granting our borders, nation status, favorable trade, and a choice pick of your Northern fera breeds anytime we need.”

“May we confer amongst ourselves?” Milla asked. “This is a large request.”

“No,” Eliza said. “You may make your choice now.”

Finch spoke. “King Asher may not approve.”

“Then it will be on your heads for agreeing to it.” Nell gave an elegant shrug.

“Besides not being handed to King Kayden on a silver platter, what other benefits will come from your side?” Atlas demanded.

Nell examined her nails. “You wish to win this war?”

“Yes.”

“You need information. Experienced soldiers both quick in mind and body?”

“Yes.”

“Mhm… Trene will not openly pledge itself to the North, but we will be ready if you need us.” Nell looked up. “Do we have an understanding?”

This is what Asher wanted; for Trene to be on our side. Atlas clenched his jaw. He will not like the price.

Hudson huffed. I do not like it either. However, Nell is sharper than she appears. This scrawny wood-nymph is taking her revenge painfully, and with purpose.

Atlas met eyes with Milla. He raised an eyebrow. She nodded.

Turning back to Nell, Atlas grunted. “How long will it take for you to draft a proper agreement, and a copy for King Asher?”

“I will have it ready by this evening.” Nell folded her arms across the desk. “Do we have anything more to discuss?”

“No.” Atlas kept the growl from his voice.

“Then you are free to travel the premise with a guide. You may also be moved from the stables, should you wish.” Nell had her daughter and a band of guards escort them out of her tree hut. They stood at the railing outside, dripping wet with the runoff from the leaves around them.

“Come on, slowpokes.” Eliza adjusted her fera more securely around her body, and ran across the rope bridge with two lead guards, both dressed in the dark hues of a rainy day.

They must have closets full of every color, Hudson noted.

It is a necessity for a culture of camouflage. Atlas took shaky steps across the bridge. The boards underfoot were slick with rain, and hostile to his boots. He was glad the bridges leading to Nell’s redwood had rope rails.

Skye passed him, and then Finch. Piper slowed, and inquired if he was okay.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” Atlas said.

She creased her brows in worry, but was prodded forward by Reine. Milla was the next by his side.

“You never were one for trifle dangers like this.” His former teacher tucked a gray strand of hair behind her ear.

“I find them unreasonable,” he said through clenched teeth. Step by step, Atlas made his way across the bridge with Hudson to the next platform. From there, they were lead to a second railed platform, this one with a hut wrapped around the trunk of the tree.

Nell doesn’t want us going too far, Hudson thought.

I think you’re right. Atlas could see Nell’s redwood from across the way. It was a warning, a deterrent to any escape— like last time.

“I’m going to the ground with June. Who will come with me to bring back up supplies?” Milla eyed Atlas. “Or stay underground?”

The thought of staying in the stables was tempting, but Atlas could not leave Skye, Piper and Finch alone in the tree hut. He did not trust Nell or Eliza.

Eliza did not wait for the group to sort itself out. She posted two guards by their hut’s door and two more as “guides” before leaving with a victorious air.

“I will go with you.” Atlas found that Skye had already gone inside the hut to explore. Finch and Piper were still dripping in front of the door, although their fera had quickly copied Skye.

“Do you need anything?” he asked them.

“I left my pack with June, could you get that?” Piper said.

“Food would be nice,” Finch deadpanned.

“Got it. And I’m certain Nell will give us an evening meal,” Atlas said to Finch.

“You never know. They say the hungry make the worst decisions, she could be betting on that.”

Atlas waved away the spy’s dry sarcasm. “Just get inside before you catch something. The dead can’t make decisions.”

“She’s probably betting on that, too,” Finch called after him.

Kane

Kane was stopped by a guard at the door.

“I’m sorry, but King Asher specifically asked for privacy during this time.”

The guards Kane brought with him and the ones blocking the throne room door mingled and exchanged small talk. Kane cleared his throat. “Is Poppy here?”

“Captain Milton is on break,” the guard said.

“You can’t let me in? This is of high concern.”

“I’m sorry.” And the guard looked truly regretful. “He said to only interrupt him if we’re under attack.”

Perhaps we should wait, Flint advised.

But this is important! Kane went to one of the benches lining the wall and sat with Flint. A few of his personal guards peeled away from the mingling and took their stations around him.

Is this why the king never leaves the throne room? Kane glanced at the guards flanking the bench. He was able to ignore them most of the time, and at home they kept a perimeter around the house for a comfortable buffer. But they were always there. Eyes behind and before him. Checking the places he visited, questioning citizens they found the least suspicious, and generally making sure he never forgot there were people—his subjects—that hated him. Would kill him, even, to avenge Charlotte’s lost place in the royal lineup.

Or she may try and usurp me herself. Kane wondered where Charlotte and Lady Harper were now. He thumped the book he had brought with him against his knee. Were they plotting their next move? Or trying to get as far away as they possibly could from the Northern hounds?

Flint clicked his hooves on the polished floor. Whatever the case, I will be here to protect you.

Kane did not reply, but waited in silence as his guards trickled back to his side. He watched the clock on the opposite wall. Tomorrow at this time he would meet with Cooper.

Twenty minutes had passed when Poppy returned from her break. She did a double take.

“Why is the prince waiting?”

Kane allowed the second-in-command to answer. “King Asher asked for privacy while reviewing certain documents.”

“Oh Life,” Poppy muttered. “He’s probably taking a nap.” She waved over Kane, and pushed open the great vitrum-webbed doors.

The throne room was empty. A vitrum table was still shimmering in the center of the floor, with papers and glass inkpots scattered in a loose semicircle.

A low, deep growl sent goosebumps up Kane’s arms. Poppy’s sheep gave a nervous bleat.

The curtains to the side of King Asher’s throne rippled. Levi’s moon-pale face tore out of the sea of blue. A fang hooked the side of his mouth, ready for a snarl.

“So he was sleeping?” Poppy said. Flint informed Kane that although Poppy acted with nonchalance, fear hovered of her. Fear of the tiger.

Steady steps followed Levi, and King Asher pulled back the curtain above his fera. “No, I was in fact very awake.” He made his way to his throne, reconsidered his path, and went to the vitrum table instead.

Poppy gave a half-bow, and left them alone. Kane straightened his shoulders, and took a seat across from the king.

He placed A Northern History on the glass. “I want to know who Queen Celia is.”