Fall

Piper

Biscay was no longer safe, now that Lucy knew their whereabouts. She could set a number of troubles their way that Reine wouldn’t let Piper list, lest their spirits run low.

She is a liar, and not to be trusted. Why should we go to the East? Piper said.

Hmm. Reine examined her claws. Let’s throw some darts at a map, and see if any other location is better than one from a valid letter.

What if she forged it? Piper asked.

I still don’t see the difference than darts on a map. Now are we going to build a fire, or will I have to watch you shiver to sleep? Reine parried.

Piper huffed, and tucked her coat close. How’s dinner coming along, master chef?

Just finishing up, Reine purred. She sent an image of several mice and a small, mostly chewed mammal now unrecognizable.

Mice. Thanks. And what did you have?

I don’t bother with names. It was prey. Reine swiped her tongue over her jaws.

Piper carried a bundle full of sticks to their campsite. She placed them in a shallow pit surrounded by rocks. Where’s Finch?

Don’t know. But if he doesn’t come soon, I will eat his share. Reine swiped her jaws again.

A twittering red blur shot over them, followed by crashing underbrush below.

Finch added an armful of sticks to Piper’s pile, along with more substantial ones he stuffed underneath. He sprinkled a thin layer of nature-dried hay on top for tinder, and took out his vitrum disk to set it alight with his pocket-sized flamethrower.

He leaned back on his heels. “Not bad, if I say so myself.”

Piper gave him one of the sticks she had reserved for skewers. “Have a mouse.”

Finch took one look at the bloody mess Reine left beside their dinner. “Oh lovely. I’ve lost my appetite.”

Is he sure? Reine moved closer.

Piper swiftly grabbed two of the mice from their lineup and pulled them onto the spear. “Reine said she will eat them if you don’t.”

Taking her words to heart, Finch grabbed a trio of mice and put them over the fire. “Okay. Have at it.”

Reine stole the rest away with a sweep of her paw, and all that could be heard for the next few minutes was the popping of fire coals, and mice sinews between a leopard’s teeth.

It was dusk, and the sound of bird lullabies soon turned into the night singing of insects. Piper gave her mouse a twirling flourish before taking it out of the heat. A year ago, she would never have touched a wild mouse, let alone have one pass through her lips.

Finch nibbled thoughtfully on his kabob. “We’re in the Western woods now. Near Trene’s domain, if I’m not mistaken. We can go North and head through the plains, South and take our chances going around, or straight back to Nell without a bribe to get us out.”

Piper stared at the fire, her thoughts churning in a slow stew.

“Unless,” Finch offered, “you’re done?”

No. Piper turned suddenly, making the spy recoil. “That’s not an option.”

Finch sighed. “I thought you’d say that.”

They stared at the fire a little longer, watching its waving hands dim.

“You’re dead set on this, huh?” Finch said.

Piper didn’t need to be asked twice. “Yeah.”

“Well, how far will you go?”

Piper arched her eyebrow in question.

“If we don’t find them in Seine, what will you do?” Finch threw his skewer into the embers. “We’ll be going into hostile land. Far more hostile than Trene and a sleepy port town. It’s the maw of a monster, Piper. Chance—alea—won’t save you this time.”

Piper fisted her hand around her alea, now securely in her belt. “Yes.”

Finch was quiet. “That’s it?”

How could she explain to him the burning desire to know, and be known? To wrap and hug her fears until they shattered into the tangible satisfaction she had fought for sixteen years?

I don’t think you can. Reine cleaned the bones around her. It sounds silly. Hugging fears.

Piper’s stick joined Finch’s in the fire. “I think so. I don’t know.”

“Then I have no choice, do I?” Finch gave a thin smile.

“You can leave. I have Reine.” For the first time, the proposal sounded less freeing.

“If I came back without the heroes of Elbe, I would be flayed by the king.” Finch shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I would like to die by more exciting means.”

Under a leopard’s claw? Reine said.

You’re not allowed to kill him. Piper met eyes with her fera.

Reine looked away. I was joking.

No, you weren’t.

Finch hadn’t noticed his invisible brush with death. “I think going North again would not only be the fastest, but the most sure proof way we’ll make it to the East alive.”

Piper nodded. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

His next question waited until the fire was down to a mess of embers. “So you have more than just the mace now, huh?”

Piper took the alea from her belt. She twisted its sides to hold a surprisingly light crossbow. “I don’t know what changed. Is it because we’re out of the North?”

Finch scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Do you remember our fight in Trene?”

A bit of irritation came with the memory, although Piper assumed that stemmed from Reine. “Yes, I remember.”

He was an airhead, Reine said stubbornly.

“I was right. I think you’ve changed from the battle.” Finch kept his eyes on the coals. “You’ve grown quieter, but confident.”

Piper didn’t feel particularly confident.

“Do you think the alea mirrored you somehow?” Reaching a hand to his shoulder, he pet the top of Chip’s head. The little bird made a pleased noise. “Like, it was stuck. You were stuck?”

Reine was defensive. Is he trying to pin our situation oh-so-neatly?

Piper was curious. It was nice to lay something in the open light, when the rest of her world was in turmoil. With a flick of her wrist, she turned the crossbow into a spiraled shield, then just as effortlessly changed it back into its cube state. “I’ve never thought of it like that. When did you become a theorist?”

“Just trying to connect the dots, that’s all. It’s my job.”

The spark of warmth between them died. Finch wasn’t truly concerned about them, he was just forming a report for the king.

Finch saw the shift in her face. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant—“

“It’s late.” Piper pulled the blanket from her pack, and settled a few steps away. Reine slid in the space she had been. “Goodnight Finch.”

The spy said nothing.