Fall

Piper

A thick silence hung over everything in the Glassing Court, as Piper began to call it. Otis, Reine and Silas were all stealthy creatures, quiet even in an autumn forest. Additionally, the ground was muffled by moss and softened bark, making the less-agile humans able to walk around without fear of being heard.

This was perfect in a state of reflection, observing the faux-vitrum that would trick even Cooper. It was a peaceful place, with warm weather and running brooks in the dead of winter. Cedric had been right when he named it a gilded cage. Over iron bars, Piper would take this jail in a heartbeat.

We are not prisoners, however, Reine growled. They may not be allowed to leave, but we are if we stay undetected.

Piper ate meals with the Glassings and chatted with them over tea, but as soon as it was over, they would melt back into the glass vines, only to be see in splinters as they hurried from one area to another.

Remi and Otis stayed with them the longest, only going into the crystal sea every now and then to chase down their parents. But it was clear they were used to being on their own, and would often slip into the outside jungle to hunt dinner or check the rain barrels for fresh water.

When Piper asked to go with them, Remi would give her a conflicted look and a half-hearted excuse as to why he needed to go alone. They didn’t know the East’s dangers. The jungle was not friendly to strangers. What if Grace and Cedric needed help?

Piper frowned on the last excuse, and Remi turned red to his ears. “They don’t need help. Life, I don’t know if they care we’re here.”

Reine paused her work of shredding the nearest log. They don’t show a great excitement about their long-lost daughter coming home.

“They’re always trying to unlock vitrum so we can get out,” Remi said.

Piper swept her arms to the trees. “There are no spy fera. Tennyson and Finch are looking for them now. It’s an open door. Why don’t you leave?”

“The East will chase us down,” Remi whispered. “We will never be free.”

“Come to the North,” Piper said. “King Asher will welcome you as he did me. You will be safe and won’t be forced to do this again.”

Remi’s dark mop of hair was all she could see as he studied his shoes. “I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Mom and Dad won’t go. I think they’re afraid of what they’ll do outside of this place. Vitrum is their life’s work.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“The North is the birthplace of vitrum,” Piper said. “What more can they ask for?”

“Here, they are wanted. Needed. A Queen Grace and King Cedric. Outside, they’re just two more inventors in the world,” Remi said softly.

Something bright caught Piper’s eye. Reine crept closer to a nearby sheet of vitrum, and nosed it aside to see Silas staring back at them.

“Hello,” Piper said after a moment.

The fox dipped his head to them, ever dignified.

“How long have you been there?” she said.

Silas cocked his head to the side as if listening, then yawned.

“Long enough?” Remi ventured.

Silas gave a little nod.

Piper knew in part that she was speaking to her father through Silas, whatever the fera decided to share with his human. “Is it true? Do you not want to leave?”

The fox let his full tail brush the jungle floor. He had his eyes lowered, then raised to meet her own. He gave a long blink. And a nod.

Piper bit her lip, and looked back to Remi. He was speechless and sullen.

The last of Reine’s patience broke like the frayed end of a rope. What sickness is this? When the door is open, you stay and then complain when it closes. You are not trapped in the East, you are trapped in your minds. She jumped to her paws, and stalked away. I will have none of this.

They watched her go. Remi sighed. “I told you.”

Kane

Donovan wore the same expression Atlas had a few hours before. “What?”

“I need to buy time for Cooper to get here,” Kane said. The plan had formed on his walk with Flint. It had first been a hysterical shot in the dark, a what if, until the thought had spiraled into a larger idea.

“Why you?” Homer said. The silhouette of his pony shifted outside. The guards around the private tent stirred in reaction to the fera.

Kane pointed to Donovan. “Would Queen Celia come out to talk with the head of the army? No, she wants royalty.”

“No offense taken,” Donovan grumbled.

“Sorry,” Kane said quickly. He took a measured breath before saying, “And I’m not asking permission for this. I already sent a messenger to her.”

Homer spurt out the coffee he had been drinking. “What?”

“Are you insane?” Donovan was barely below a shout. “If King Asher knew—“

“I am King Asher’s hand here.” Kane pounded the table. Nothing shook satisfyingly on it like he had aimed, but it provided the same effect.

“You are Prince Kane. Remember your title,” Donovan growled.

“Remember that as well,” Kane said. He stared at the general until Donovan broke away, but on his shoulder Briar still gave him her unblinking gaze. “I will take my triple guard and any more soldiers you see fit to lend me.”

“You will have the whole Life-forsaken army.” Donovan’s snarl was fierce, but Kane could see respect simmering just under the surface. “You’re not dying on my watch.”

“Let’s test that,” Kane said.

Atlas

Atlas, no matter what he said to his friends in Tamerlane, had never grown used to the West. The wind was too strong, the ground too open and unprotected, the people having to force up walls to keep fragile crops from being pressed into submission. It was a hard, back bending life for those who chose to stay here.

But if they stayed, the rewards were supposedly worth it. Enough that people were willing to kill, and die for it.

They could keep their rewards. What they were fighting for now was the survival of Elbe, of the oldest territory in Eden being possibly cannibalized by its kin.

Unthinkable, Hudson huffed beside him.

Impossible only a few short years ago, Atlas agreed. Yet here we are now.

They watched all four territories move in restlessness. In this small space, they would soon boil and erupt.

His son wanted to curb the flame underneath them all, but Atlas didn’t know if it would work. Donovan certainly didn’t think so. And the head guard to Kane, Homer, seemed to be of the same mind.

“He’s on a suicide mission, but we can’t stop him,” Homer had said. “Please talk some sense into him.”

And they had once more. Kane was still unmoved.

“What are we waiting for, Dad?” Kane whispered. “For them to act. We’re worse than sitting ducks; our heads are stretched on the chopping block for them.”

He’s right, Hudson had thought. We are in a sorry state.

Even with their newfound Southern numbers, the East-West had every advantage. Surprise had fled, bravery hidden, honor sunk to the bottom of men’s hearts.

Now Atlas watched a vitrum platform being erected in the center of the main divide. The wind beat relentlessly against it, creating a hollow drumbeat. An executioner’s song.

Atlas wanted to call to his son walking towards the dais. Turn the parting crowd into a wall he could not pass. Use the winter chill to freeze this moment between victory and defeat, life and death, to stop this all.

But he didn’t.