Fall

Kane

In an all-too-familiar rush, the cabinet council of King Asher was spread like a deck of cards before the dais. All in vitrum chairs, behind vitrum tables, and given vitrum pens.

“I want an immediate response.” The king paced before them, his tiger at his heels. “There will be no hesitation in the face of open attacks.” He stopped and pointed to Donovan. “Are your troops ready?” King Asher didn’t wait for his reply. “Send them out. Follow the trail. Hunt down the filth that attacked us, and bring them to me. Dead or alive, am I clear?”

“Of course.” Donovan jotted down the note on his paper. His goshawk, Briar, glanced down from her perch atop his chair.

“Go now,” King Asher said.

Donovan nodded, and rose. The doors to the throne room opened and shut behind them.

“Poppy.” The Captain of Guard stood at her name. “Make sure the city is secure. I don’t want a mouse slipping out.”

“Yes, my king.” Poppy saluted, and left with her sheep.

“Griffin. Cooper. Tell me the progress on the gliders.”

“Well,” Cooper said, “Since wrapping up the vitrum harvest—which I considered to be very plentiful this year—I’ve been assisting Griffin in my free time. I am pleased to announce that our progress is seventy-percent there.”

“No explosions,” Griffin chimed in. “And they don’t crash into walls.”

“They crash into floors while avoiding the walls,” Cooper said. “But we’re developing a way for it to keep it balance and position. A compass, if I may.”

“But it’s much more complicated than a compass,” Griffin assured the king.

“You don’t need to convince me of the project’s worth. I needed an update. And Cooper said seventy percent. That’s thirty percent off from where we have to be. I would suggest making it a high priority, if possible, Mr. Cooper.”

The inventor curled his mustache. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Griffin looked slightly dejected, although he had been scolded.

“Seventy percent is also great progress from a short while ago.” The king dipped his head to Griffin. “You’re doing well.”

This made the aviator’s spirits rise. His blue jay perked up on his shoulder.

“So get back to work.” King Asher set Cooper and Griffin free in a lighter mood. But when he turned to Kane, his face darkened.

“Are you okay, Kane?”

Kane gave what he hoped to be a princely smile. “Never felt better.”

“You had a weak vitrum bomb hit you. I wouldn’t call that an improvement to your health.”

I agree with the king, Flint said.

You always agree with the king, Kane thought.

I do not. The deer cut him a sideways glance. But he is king for a reason.

Chance is not a true reason. A mystic fire to decide the kingship is the same as picking from a hat.

But chance is often the catalyst that precedes reason. He is a good king. You are a good prince.

I want to be better, Kane said.

We will be better.

“Do you have anything to say to that, Prince?” King Asher asked slowly.

“I don’t.” Kane walked out from behind his vitrum table. “I want to know what I can do.”

“You can rest and recover.” The king said it as a command, but Kane decided to treat it as a question.

“I’m fine. You sent Cooper and Poppy out after the attack, so I can play some part.” Kane stared at his king, defiant. “I can do just as much as them.”

“No, you can’t. As always, your eagerness comes before your fall, Prince Kane. You must exercise some caution. I don’t wish to find another successor anytime soon. It was stressful enough with you.”

Neither Kane or Flint had a response to this.

“You will not leave the palace until this attacker has been found. Your mother will be brought here as well.”

To prevent another Nora capture, Kane understood. Thea was their only family left. This realization weighed heavily on his shoulders. Where were the others now? Mila, Skye, Piper, Atlas? June, Madoc, Reine, Hudson? The spy, Finch? Were any of them even alive, or was he waiting on their ghosts?

Atlas

It was night. The Impressa was right over their heads, but Chesa was nowhere in sight. This gave Hudson some concern, but Atlas for once was his rock. They had been here before. He knew the great Southern capital would be upon them soon.

I don’t smell the Bay of Shiloh, or any water, Hudson rumbled.

Let’s wait. Atlas met the sparkling eyes of the Impressa constellation. Maybe another day and we’ll be there.

Life help us, Hudson said. Can you ask Milla if we’re close?

Fine. If it will appease you, Mr. Fera, Atlas said. “Milla, what is our distance to Chesa?”

“Please stop.” Her words cracked like a whip. Atlas was in silent shock. He slowed beside her. They rested atop a sand dune.

Skye had a shared confusion on her face. Atlas decided to not speak aloud, but observe their surroundings. They were atop a higher rise, removed from the ones around them. The sand marked the wind’s position, making a grainy sea that rolled and splashed against itself like waves. Now above its movement, Atlas was forced to respect the shifting screen. It could leave them helpless in a second.

Hudson regarded it in his usual detachment. There is a possibility we are lost.

We have our map above us. Atlas gestured to the stars. I, for one, know we’re not lost.

“Atlas,” Milla said softly. “Please lead.”

Atlas’s eyes snapped to his former teacher. Her face was drawn in fatigue, and a weakness she hadn’t show before now hung on her like a second skin. It startled Atlas so suddenly he asked, “Would you like to ride June?”

“June is tired. And she’s already carrying our packs.” Milla shifted the donkey’s burden.

Reaching out, Atlas unclipped several of the bags, and slung them over his own shoulder. At Hudson’s consent, he too carried a good remainder of their belongings with ties along his back. Skye mutely took up her own share.

Milla watched them curiously, and was rendered speechless when June was left with only a few water jugs. The donkey was visibly relieved.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She went on her fera, and her eyelids lowered. Atlas knew June could navigate without assistance, but hovered close as they went back into their journey.

She is not well, Hudson thought.

Atlas squared his shoulders. We will be in Chesa soon.

But after all these days, “soon” was just another promise the desert swallowed with the wind.

Piper

A Northern girl.

The fire cackled Reine’s words each night, the rays of sun spelled it in the sky each day, the wind whispered it in her ears with each step across the Western plains.

She was in her homeland, but not home.

Piper reacquainted herself with the alea’s forms every chance she had. Reine allowed her to assist in hunting with the crossbow. When it appeared, she would practice swings with the mace around the campfire. In her spare moments, she would use the butterfly knife or short sword to carve crude faces out of twigs, forcing herself to use the weapon as an extension of her hand.

“You’re getting pretty good,” Finch remarked one morning. They had just finished packing from the previous night, and were double checking their supplies. “Maybe even better than before the battle.”

Piper was continually flicking her wrist towards herself to activate the alea’s shield. She had Reine attack it once, just to test its strength, and the shield had withstood her claws like a roof to rain. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think that will help us get bread.” Finch put their foodstuff back into his pack. “We’re going to pass Tamerlane today. That will be a good place to fill up.”

Piper paused. “I can’t go there.”

Finch chuckled as he slung his pack over his shoulder, Chip already in the air. “You can go to Biscay—amongst your past neighbors and family—yet not a full city? You can blend into the crowd.”

“They’re closer to Elbe,” Piper pointed out. “And someone will match my name and face. I don’t want to endanger us both for some bread.”

Finch shrugged. “Have it your way, Amur.”

Piper nodded, and they set off.

A few short hours later, they arrived at Tamerlane. There were hills to the northern side of the city, but from the south, west and east, all was the uniform flatness of the plains. This meant Piper had no cover from the wind, unless she wanted to cling to the white walls of Tamerlane, and risk a guard questioning her.

So she stayed under one of the few trees on the plain, while Finch pulled on a hat and pocketed enough coins to restock their food.

“Don’t let Reine kill anyone, okay?” Finch chuckled. He saluted her, and jogged off towards the city.

Piper watched him go. Did we do the right thing by staying behind?

Perhaps. Reine yawned. Perhaps not. She jumped up to a high branch in the tree, and sprawled along its length. If he is captured, or dies, it will not be my fault.

Giving a sharp glance up, Piper frowned. It won’t be my fault.

I never said that.

Piper scuffed her shoe on the dry soil. The fading grass blew around them like smooth hair. The fiery scent of fall had died away to something much more bitter. Charcoal, grit, and fear. Eden was losing its colors, even the ones that hovered in the air.

After Tamerlane, there were only little towns separating the West from the East. Pebbles in their stream of travel. This both thrilled and worried Piper. They were close to their goal. Very close. But Piper would have to form a plan of action for when they crossed the line to the East.

Do you have any ideas? Reine said sleepily.

Find my parents. Go home. Piper settled under the tree, and pulled her knees close.

Reine yawned again. That’s a short list… but manageable.

Piper picked dirt from under her nails. What would they do after returning to Elbe? Continue the North’s defense? Would she ever stop?

She paused. Will we ever stop?

What? Stop what? Reine blinked down at her.

The war. This running and hiding. I want to walk without fear, and run without falling. Is that too much to ask? Piper wondered.

Reine peered at her from her perch. Even if we defeated the East and West now with a swipe of our paw, there would still be evil. In this world, there will never be perfection.

I’m not wishing for perfection. Only safety.

Reine’s lip curled into a snarl. You have a Northern leopard as your fera. Do I not protect you?

Perhaps. Piper’s lips snagged on a smile.

Do I not fulfill all the duties of a fera?

I’m not sure there are exact duties—

Do I not! Reine hissed, act with the best interest for us?

Slightly confused, Piper shrugged. Sometimes you’re selfish.

The grass rustled beside the tree. Piper turned all too late to see a sword, and then a face appear. He was dark and leathery, the folds of wrinkles not making him fragile and worn, but nightmarish. A few of his dull yellow teeth peeked through his grin.

“My, my.” He licked his lips. “Are you alone, girl?”

Piper’s eyes widened. She reached for her alea, but before she took another breath a muffled thump caught her attention. Reine now sat proudly where the sudden danger had been, ears erect and eyes closed. She is in fact not alone.

You killed him! Piper said as she ran to Reine. Oh Life, I told Finch you wouldn’t kill anyone.

Reine dug her claws into the man, and he groaned. He’s alive, she reported.

Something slammed into Piper from behind. She was turned on her back, and stared face to face—

With another Reine.