Fall

Atlas

Hudson yawned, and it spread to Atlas. I’m tired.

We’re all tired, Atlas said. It was dawn, and the last of the stars were still in the sky. A rosy violet painted everything in soft tones. At this hour there were no edges, no hard lines.

No hearty breakfasts, Hudson added with a sigh. Half-dreams of honeyed treats and smoked meats filled his head.

Atlas held out a handful of dried jerky to him as they walked. Eat up. We have a ways to go.

The lowing of sand cows bubbled up from various parts of the traveling line, sometimes all at once for a mournful song.

I miss the North the most right now, when we’re almost done. It happens every trip. Hudson took a bite of the jerky, chewing thoughtfully.

Atlas was of the same mind. But the irony was that as soon as he settled back home, the itch for adventure would return. He would go to Asher again, looking for the next mission. He wondered if Milla was plagued with this too, and if she would ever truly retire.

“Friend,” Thorn said beside him. Atlas climbed out of his mulling with effort.

“King Asher is the current ruler. Prince Kane is next in line. But then who will lead?” he asked. “How do you choose them?”

Atlas was quiet for a moment, debating on if he should tell the mayor.

Every Elben citizen knows of the tradition, and are not sworn to secrecy. A curious mind has a right to know, Hudson said.

They watched the sky turn brighter. Atlas rubbed his bristled chin. Hudson helped him with the Chestic. “There are many ruling families in the North. Like your mayors, we have the Council. They come from our towns all over the territory.”

“But they don’t move. They have roots,” Thorn mused. “And no sand cows.”

“Yes.” Atlas nodded. “And when it’s needed, we prepare the names of all the Council families and put them in a fire. Those that survive are candidates for the throne. There are always just two names that make it.”

“You burn paper to pick your rulers?” Thorn’s smile was clear, even in his silhouette. His fera stared at Atlas intently.

“Paper? No.” Atlas searched for the Chestic word. “Leaves. Clear leaves with our names on it.”

Thorn laughed. “You are a strange people. Living in the snow, using leaves to choose your kings and queens, never moving towns.”

Atlas shrugged. “The same could be said to you. But it’s our home.”

Thorn dipped his head in respect. “Of course.”

They walked in silence, appreciating the new day. They would be in Elbe before they knew it, and Atlas’s heart was light, as if he weren’t holding the world for once.

Hudson was the first to notice the vibrations in the earth, pounding a steady rhythm. It shook the pebbles near them.

Further up the line, towns stirred. Whispers flitted from one mouth to the next. Bird fera flew above, some carrying messages. One came to the rear, where Thorn was.

He unrolled the scroll, and translated the Chestic. “Drums. War drums.”

“What?” Atlas said.

“There’s trouble up ahead.” Thorn looked worried. “We have to stop.”

Piper

The room was still eerily dark despite the candles. Piper felt confined, trapped, although there were only warm faces around her. “What do you mean vitrum?”

“You made all the vitrum outside by yourself?” Finch asked. “How’d you transfer it from the North?”

“Please sit,” Cedric motioned to a chair at the table. Piper approached it cautiously, and placed her hands atop its back. “It’s true that vitrum only grows in the North. Always been that way. Not only must it need the exact soil from that territory, but the temperature and short seasons that time its growth.”

“How did the East get it?” Finch pressed.

Grace narrowed her eyes. The dove on her shoulder mirrored her.

Reine stifled a laugh. It’s how you look when you’re mad.

“Let him explain,” Grace said coolly.

Cedric waited a beat before continuing. “We were working on the lower layers of King Kayden’s court. Trading stocks under supervision, keeping count of minor inventory. We came in contact with many ambassadors trying to get through to Kayden. As we worked with some of the Northerners, we became aware of their glass spheres and cubes that they relied on, and were curious of its origin.”

The man leaned forward. His eyes were alight with excitement. “And we made a list of every possible factor that goes into plant growth. We made charts and graphs of weather patterns and soil quality. We even travelled to Elbe, and smuggled a vitrum sapling home.”

Finch’s mouth was in a hard line. Chip looked anxious, his beak snapping.

Cedric didn’t notice. “We made a contained environment for the sapling. And it failed after a week.”

Grace’s voice slipped in effortlessly. “So we tried again, and again.”

“We graphed leaves and mixed spores with Western plants for months until finally…” Cedric took a breath. Piper could see the moment revived in his face. Pride. Amazement. Joy. “We did it.”

“You made vitrum,” Finch said.

“One clear leaf on a tomato plant. It was enough for King Kayden to notice.” Grace folded her hands on the table. “But when we went to replicate what we’d done, it didn’t work. That’s when the East came, and thought we could do it under pressure.”

“And you did.” Finch shifted closer to them, the light making his dark hair shine.

“We had one leaf of vitrum that grew in the West. Here, they blossomed out of control.” Cedric’s grin was to his ears now. He reminded Piper of Cooper. “Vines and flowers and shrubs of it.”

Grace’s fera fluttered to the top a cabinet near them, startling everyone out of the story.

“But it’s not vitrum,” Grace said. “It’s just glass.”

Reine growled in confusion. Piper spoke up. “What do you mean just glass?”

Tennyson peered out of one of the curtained windows, sending a solid line of light cutting through the kitchen. Grace tapped her fingers on the table. Cedric coughed. Silas the fox walked out of the room.

They had been talking in both Kinnish and Elben throughout the conversation. Enough so that the tiger-boy understood what was going on.

“You have a vitrum device, right? A weapon?” he said.

Piper put her hand to her pocket. “Yes.”

“Our plants are just plants. If you try to turn them into any shape, they’re just that.” He furrowed his brow as he spoke Elben. “There’s no… shifting.”

No changing shape. There could be no aleas or vitrum spheres from common glass, no matter if it was made from sand or living growth. The plants around them were just for decoration, a dazzling shadow of a Northern miracle.

When she looked to Finch, he was hiding a smile. The North’s magic had been contained after all, even if they had nothing to do with it.

“I don’t know how we got here unfollowed.” Tennyson was at the door in two strides. “There’s not even a monkey in the trees watching us. Something’s going on. Queen Celia’s planning, and that’s never good.”

“You know Queen Celia?” Piper said.

“She’s gone a lot. But I’ve met her.” Tennyson opened the door, and took a cautious step outside. Taft mirrored him in stealth. “I’m going to do some snooping. You guys have fun.”

And he was gone, leaving Finch and Piper with her family.