Fall

Atlas

The first town of the South moved into Chesa a day after his conversation with the coral vendor.

Once the sand cows were fenced in with the town’s banner, the people filed down the streets in a steady trickle and unlocked doors with keys from their pockets. In the evening, laugher and rejoicing could be heard from most buildings as neighbors and family reunited. Atlas hadn’t realized how empty Chesa had been before.

And this is only one town, Hudson remarked. Chesa will be quite full when they all get here.

The North had nineteen official representatives from their towns and cities to make up Asher’s council. Chesa was expected to have roughly twenty-four mayors, with their roaming towns, tents, and sand cows.

Atlas had forgotten how bustling the South’s meetings were. His ambassador training came back in clarity, and the awe of the sand city with it.

The second town came in soon after the first, with the third and fourth on its heels. More pens were erected for the jealously-guarded sand cows, and the trickle of people turned into a stream. Skye was no longer alone when they went to the bay, and showed off Madoc’s acrobatics to the other young swimmers.

A week after the first town was spotted, the fifteenth town trudged over the dunes to the great oasis of their capitol. New vendors reopened their shops from the last year, and the business section of Chesa became crowded with buyers. Atlas was pleased to know the coral vendor had cleared his shop with the rush of returning Chestic, and had started to grow his fishmonger trade—fera free, he assured Atlas.

Milla and Atlas set aside time every evening to meet one of the returning mayors. They would enter tents of every size and color to speak with skeptical and guarded leaders. Milla did the majority of talking, while Atlas would add in a helpful point here and there. Hudson, without fail, captured the attention of every first impression. Reverently and sneeringly, he was called a creature of night. Atlas was starting to believe this meant nightmare.

Perhaps this will help us gain respect, Hudson said after a lukewarm meeting with the mayor of Picket.

Or they’ll chase us out of Chesa with pitchforks and torches, Atlas muttered. Haven’t they seen bears before? You weren’t called this half as much last time.

Maybe we didn’t have the ears for it, Hudson remarked. When I look back, we were very naïve.

Atlas didn’t accept this answer, but continued his efforts with Milla to form bonds with the incoming towns. A few of them, when they entered the meeting, already had their hearts as cold as stone to them. These mayors, Atlas discovered through conversation, had ties to the other two ambassadors.

When entering meetings with leaders, ambassadors wore the colors of their territory. Atlas, Milla, and even Skye had caps and breathable shirts to announce their allegiance before they arrived. Atlas kept his eyes keen for the red of the East or the green of the West, but never saw the telltale clothing to identify their rivals.

Milla was worried by this. “They’re being underhanded, Atlas. This is certainly a new world, and our enemies are not giving up anything. Not even their faces. But we will wear our ambassador clothing with pride, because the North will not hide.”

It was a refreshing relief when Wisp came in the second week, as the twenty-second town. Thorn greeted them warmly. “So my supplies brought you far.”

“They did indeed. We can’t thank you enough,” Milla said.

“My niece says you’ve been excellent guests,” Thorn continued. His falcon—Thorn’s eyes—were of high scrutiny, but Thorn’s expression was open and trusting.

“Your niece…Linden?” Atlas broke in.

“Yes.” Thorn grinned. “She stays in Chesa to watch over our houses while we are in rotation.”

“She never said anything to us.” Milla politely tried each food item Thorn had offered them. Atlas mimicked her, but found some of the meal hard to swallow. The sand must wear off their taste buds.

Then I’m shocked we haven’t lost ours yet, Hudson joked.

“House watchers usually don’t announce their presence. They’re the keepers of our permanent wealth, after all.”

Milla nodded. “I understand.”

Thorn’s fera looked to him, and the Wisp leader smoothed his starry coat. “I suspect our meeting should start soon. I would rest and consider what you’re going to say to our group as a whole. We are patient people, measure twice and cut once, but do not deal lightly with whom we consider fools—and our grudges can last generations.”

Atlas had heard similar advice before, but the weight of it settled just as heavily on his shoulders. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“Now go, friends,” the Wisp mayor said. “Don’t let us down.”