Fall

Piper

Leather, cloth, sweat, body odor, and a light covering of sweetness filled the single-roomed shop. Reine quickly identified the sweetness as autumn flowers, which seemed to pop from every corner and hang from planters on the wall. Roses, although rarely seen in fall, predominated the mini-meadow, with the main assortment framed around a banner forming the high-calligraphy of Roses Are Red.

Under the banner, a simple desk grew from the floor. Cloth scraps and full pin cushions littered its top, along with a silver bell. The paper beside the bell read, ring for service.

There was no one else in the store. A crisp wind blew through the open door, wrapping Piper in a tight chill. Winter seemed to hover just above them, like a hawk over its prey.

Or a leopard, Reine said indignantly. She flexed her claws on the floorboards.

Piper glanced at her reflection in the silver bell. Did Lucy truly think she was dead? Would she be ready?

That shouldn’t be a factor here, Reine growled. Ring it!

A sharp peal made them jump back from the desk.

Finch crinkled his nose as he set down the bell. “Don’t let Reine kill me.”

Oh no. Reine settled neatly on her haunches. I’m pleased.

Piper took a step back as a familiar rush of feathers beat the air. “Hoo, hoo, too-hoo; hoo, hoo, too-hoo.”

Lucy’s barred owl slipped across the desk and caught himself with his beak. He flapped uselessly against the base while footsteps hurried from another room.

“Reef!” Lucy hissed. In a single motion, she scooped up the owl and placed him on a side perch. “What did I say about…” She looked up. “About landing.”

Piper wished to shrink inside her cloak. I shouldn’t have left Elbe.

Reine raised her chin. We meet again, Lucy.

Reef cocked his mottled head. Lucy whispered, “Piper?”

Piper shuffled her feet. “Um—“ Reine nudged her. “—Hi.”

“Piper?” Lucy repeated. “Piper?” Her face was wrinkled into incredibility.

“That’s her,” Finch grumbled.

Lucy came from behind the desk and paused. The woman quivered like a plucked string.

What do I do, what do I say? Piper blinked away tears, trying to keep her emotions as smooth as the surface of a lake.

Reine gave a guttural growl. It was full of raw power, and Piper felt a searing anger in her fera’s mind.

You, Reine said. You, who dared lie to my human for years. You, who stole her life away. You, who tried to sell the heroes of Elbe! The leopard filled the space between Piper and Lucy. Give me one reason not to water these flowers with your blood.

“You’re upset. I understand.” Lucy gave Reine a few inches. Reef flew to Lucy’s shoulder pad, careful to not tangle himself in her scarlet hair.

They stayed in this tense stance for several moments, before Piper took a shuddering breath. “I have questions that need to be answered, for your sake,” she rested a hand on Reine’s back, “and mine.”

Lucy stared at the bristling leopard. “What do you want to know?”

Kane

Beside and adjacent to the Inventors’ Lab were two public gardens. Kane had to search only the one next to the lab to find Cooper.

He had set up his desk in the middle of one of the walkways, ignoring the looks from other inventors as they passed. Cooper’s koala was awake, and held up an alea curiously while her human braided three strands of raw vitrum into a cord.

Kane decided to open with bluntness. “Who is the ‘shh’ lady?”

Flint peered at him. That bordered on rude. You have to start using formalities one day, Kane.

Cooper smiled as he put the finishing touches on the vitrum braid. “Ah, you met Eleanor. She’s a fun one, eh?”

“Why does she… Require silence?” Kane shook his head.

Cooper arched his eyebrows in surprise. “She didn’t explain the voice waves?”

“I heard about the voice waves,” Kane said flatly.

“Good to know she’s still working. Eleanor’s been studying the cultivation of vitrum for many years now. But recently, she’s been treating vitrum like carrot plants.” Cooper shrugged. “Just because you plant leaves in soil, doesn’t mean they will create a new growth. Everyone knows they’re more like mushrooms anyway.”

“How are they like mushrooms?” Kane asked. “Flint wants to know.”

Flint snorted. I said no such thing.

Cooper put the braided vitrum in one of his desk drawers and turned his back so his koala could climb on. “Vitrum has a complex and very hardy root system. When they are harvested each year, we only take the tip of the iceberg, per say. The majority of the plant is still underground, unharmed and ready to pop up more glass leaves. I like to compare them to the mycelium of a mushroom.” The inventor had a twinkle in his eye as he said, “Is that enough information, Flint?”

Kane grinned. “He thanks you.”

“Well,” Cooper pinched a corner of his desk, and it shimmered and dropped to the ground as a vitrum disk. He pocketed the disk. “Your tardiness aside, shall we get down to business?”

“I couldn’t find you,” Kane said in defense.

Cooper made a motion of swiping a fly away from his ear. “We’re going to the Golden Gates.”

“Why?”

“If you don’t know by now, then you’ll have to wait and see.” With a twitch of his mustache, the inventor strolled away.

Atlas

Atlas licked his lips, then spat out the sand that ran across his tongue. One thing he would look forward to in Chesa would be solid walls and floors to ebb the constant stream of sand. He must have ingested half of the Southern desert by now.

You and I both. Hudson stared forlornly at his water dish, which, despite frequent changing, was already accumulating small islands of sand.

They were under a wide pavilion. In the center was a low table, where Thorn and his falcon took the head. Atlas, Milla, and Skye sat on one side, while four warriors of Wisp watched them with varying degrees of hostility on the opposite side. Thorn had convinced his town to stop thrusting weapons at them, but the Northern blue on their clothes was a reminder of the false attack from Nora.

“Thorn is a trusting man,” one woman with a sandpiper hissed, “but do not expect the same grace from our fellow towns.”

“We are ever in Wisp’s debt,” Milla assured the warriors. She nodded demurely to Thorn. “And its wise mayor.”

“Our yearly circuit ends in Chesa,” Thorn informed them. “I suspect the other mayors will keep in time as well. If all goes according to plan, you will have a chance to meet with us at the capital.” He waved a few of his townspeople over, who added jugs of water and dried sand beef to June’s packs. “From this direct path, you will encounter few oases. Pace yourself, and these provisions should be more than enough to reach Chesa.”

“How long do we have from here?” Atlas asked.

Thorn chuckled. “Friend, you will learn quickly that you cannot be so precise as to label things in days. You will count in steps, rests, and meals until solid ground is met.”

This sent an unsettling chill down Atlas’s spine. He allowed Milla to give the closing speech of thanksgiving, and rose when it was required. They were ushered to the end of the town’s tents, where the Wispen warriors made a show of force by coming out in full.

Atlas did not hesitate to give a little bow. “Goodbye, friends. Thank you for your hospitality. Life’s blessings to you.”

“Life’s blessings.” Thorn’s fera observed them acutely as they left.

Atlas did not look back until he was sure to see only sand.