Fall

Kane

Atop a mile of rock with a band of vitrum windows separating him from war, Kane watched the world turn.

He had been in Mount Mizzen for three days. It was more exciting than the palace, and he was able to act as the king’s eyes and ears while he served out meetings like a short-order cook.

Everything was moving so fast, and yet the battles seemed to be in slow motion. Down the row of the Northern Mountains, Cooper’s spheres fell in a steady trickle against the enemy camps.

Nora had started to climb in daylight, boldly throwing their grappling hooks and sending scouts to discover secret mountain passes. It was like plugging a leaking barrel. Kane was certain a few had entered the city already.

The Golden Gates had been closed. Evacuations were in full effect, the city pulling back with the tide of fear. The few Nora agents who made it to Elbe would have to navigate through the stiff units of soldiers, both above and underground, and far stretches of cold land to hurt civilians or royalty.

Even now, Kane’s triple guard took up the majority of the space in Mount Mizzen’s war room. Only one official was with him, and that was Griffin.

He and his blue jay were peering out of the band of vitrum, watching the gliders take off to search for more Nora clusters. A few of them went further, making sure the enemy was not receiving backup.

The threat of the East or West coming over the horizon was shared by many. King Asher probably saw the vision most. He wanted constant reports from Kane.

Occasionally, Kane would leave when Flint grew restless. The deer disliked the cave-like atmosphere of Mount Mizzen. He needed grass under his hooves, and fresh air in his lungs, something the palace actually provided through its courtyards.

Griffin cursed, which brought Kane’s mind from the palace. “They’re not fully calibrated. If my aviators weren’t skilled themselves, the gliders would smash right into the side of the mountains.”

“I’m sure Nora would appreciate that.” Kane smiled, then changed it quickly into a serious frown when he saw Griffin’s face. “Which is what we’re trying to avoid.”

“We’re sending them out too early. The king…” Griffin sighed. “He’s asking a lot when we have little.”

“That’s what imagination’s for, right?” Kane’s second attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.

Tough crowd, Flint noted.

“My men could die if a glider malfunctions. I take that personally.” Griffin returned to the window, his reflection grim.

Griffin was the youngest of King Asher’s officials, in his mid-twenties, but was tied with Donovan as the most somber. Kane wondered if his blue jay balanced him with joy, as Flint did with him, or merely added to his demeanor. He watched it flutter from the stone sill of the window to Griffin’s shoulder.

In fact, he had never bothered to know its name. “What do you call your fera?”

Griffin kept his focus on the events outside. “Matilda.”

Kane had assumed the blue jay was male, but swallowed the realization in stride. “Is she your go-to for flying?”

Griffin shrugged. “She’s a natural.”

Was that dry humor, or a factual statement? Kane looked to Homer. The guard mimicked Griffin with a shrug.

Why do politics have to make things ten times harder than casual conversation? Kane fumed. He couldn’t talk to a fellow leader without the tension of a fight.

Because you’re not talking about ice cream, you’re talking about lives, Flint replied.

Kane made a lap around the table in the room, collecting his thoughts before circling back to the window. He said nothing.

Slowly, his guards lined the vitrum window with him. Some were curious, some already knew what to expect. For the fera that couldn’t squeeze between the soldiers, they peered over shoulders or sat on the sill.

Cooper’s vibrant explosions sent rumbles through the room like aftershocks. Nora camps were hit with all kinds of imitation disasters. Quicksand, like the one Kane had picked. Lava, sandstorms, geysers and even a contained tornado whipped around the area Cooper designated through the vitrum spheres.

Kit had once tried to color the wind. She had thrown up powdered chalk on their front lawn, tracking the invisible currents as they blew from the Northern Mountains.

Kane felt as if Cooper were trying to track death with his colorful weapons. Pinpointing its location with each burst of a vitrum sphere.

Nora was fleeing. Kane didn’t need a report to tell him this. Cooper’s inventions had once again turned back the invaders. But this was only the beginning. Griffin was not just fretting about his gliders crashing into mountains, but staying above Western plains. Or Eastern jungle.

Behind Nora’s tailcoats, the King’s scouts would be searching and staking out land to camp.

The North had never done this before, from the memory of history books. A part of Kane still questioned King Asher on this. To take a new step… took courage.

Now that Kane was here, he wasn’t sure he had it. He wasn’t the one making decisions, however. Not yet. They were kings in training. Learning from the past to survive the present. Learning from the present to shape the future.

Atlas

It was dawn, and Atlas clung to awareness. Skye, beside him, wilted in the morning sun.

Milla showed not a scrap of weakness as she continued her dance of talks. Those that were with their cause now had open appreciation, while their enemies were subdued and sullen. The table of twenty-four mayors was mostly to their side. A few whom had shown hostility before had even been swayed.

The waiters now started serving breakfast. Atlas was even too tired to pick at the bread and fruits before him. Hudson gladly took his share.

He watched the sun creep above the Bay of Shiloh. The water turned to fire under its reflection, and blotted out the early-going washers and fishermen. Soft noise, like the gentle hum of insects, came from the city behind them. Chesa was preparing for another day.

The table had been laid bare sometime after midnight. Each plank of the barrel it had been, each knot of wood, showed a unique craftmanship that Atlas was starting to see as pure Chestic. Rugged, resistant, reliable.

Hudson smacked loudly on a chewy piece of fruit. Some of their food carries the same traits. He spat out a rubbery peel.

Atlas took another look at the table. His work had been finished for a few hours, his seatmates having left. Armadillo and the other two ambassadors had given up just a half hour before.

Milla met eyes with him, and gave a nod. They were free to go. Their task was over.

Atlas gently ruffled Skye’s hair. “Hey, we’re going home.”

Skye blinked, rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Oh…”

Her grandmother stood, and led her away from the table. “You slept through history, dear,” she mock-chastised.

Skye yawned again. “Did we win?”

Atlas glanced to Milla, gauging her reaction. The sand whispered eagerly by their feet, as if it too wanted to know.

“Well,” Milla said. “It looks like the North will have some help from the South, and that’s enough for me.”

Piper

They stayed in the trees until it was certain there were no more snakes—and humans—that lingered.

Reine waited for Piper at the jungle floor, her thoughts as worried as a doting mother whose child just scraped death. Let’s go! We have to leave.

I’m here. Piper jumped the last foot to the ground, and rose. Her hands shook. She steadied herself with deep breaths. When she looked over to Finch, he appeared in the same state.

“Why didn’t they capture us?” he said in wonder.

“I think Tennyson and Taft were their priority. Plus,” Piper pointed to Chip, “you have an Eastern finch. I have a leopard that could pass for an Eastern one.”

“Why didn’t he…” Finch trailed off. “Tennyson didn’t turn us in.”

Should they go after him? The question was unspoken, but still conveyed clearly.

“I imagine,” Piper paused. “I imagine they’re going to Seine to imprison them.”

Finch thought for a moment. “We shouldn’t be too far from the capitol at this point. Maybe…”

“We could pay them a visit,” Piper said. She had experience breaking out of jails, even as just an observer.

Finch grinned. “It’s not out of our way.” Chip twittered happily on his shoulder. The night made it hard to see him.

No, Reine said. She leaped in front of them both, claws unsheathed. We’re not going to save the people who just attacked us. What kind of logic is that?

But we would have been taken captive by the East if they had spoken up, Piper said. Why would they do that?

I don’t particularly care, Reine growled. My concern is your protection. She sniffed to Finch, and his, sometimes.

“She doesn’t want us to go,” Finch concluded.

“No.” Piper crossed her arms. I feel some responsibility for this.

My conscious is clear. Reine refused to move, keeping her pale eyes on Piper. The shadows made her spots meld into the jungle around them.

Your conscious is connected to mine, Piper reminded her.

Then half of a clean conscious is fine. Reine was adamant in her choice. Piper knew the leopard would use force if necessary, or make the remainder of the trip a nightmare.

“The verdict?” Finch asked after a minute of tension.

Piper uncrossed her arms. “We’re going to Seine anyway. If we can help Tennyson and Taft, we will.”

Reine glared at her before swishing into the path the soldiers had made. We shall see.