Fall

Atlas

They switched back to nighttime traveling. Atlas had nearly lost track of days.

“The moon’s made a full rotation. That’s a month, right?” Skye waited for their response like a puppy with a reward.

Milla nodded. “It’s been a month since we left home.”

Atlas disliked how everything was turning into a lesson for Skye. “Can you tell us how many days we’ve been in this sand pit?”

“I don’t know what phase the moon was at…”

“Two weeks.” Milla shot a stern look at Atlas. “We’ve been here two weeks. And three days since Wisp.”

They had stumbled upon one oasis since leaving Wisp, although it would be better categorized as a glob of spit from the heavens. No vegetation had grown around the water hole, and Atlas had been surprised when their water skin refills had not drained it.

You’re praying for that glob of spit back, aren’t you? Hudson said.

Atlas tipped back his water skin to receive a mouthful of refreshment. He offered the skin to Hudson, who happily opened his mouth.

The nights were chill in the desert compared to its sunny days, but Atlas longed for the true oasis of Chesa and the Bay of Shiloh. Each step brought them closer to their haven, while the sand swept their trail away with an invisible broom.

Madoc, who had been circling their little troupe, abruptly came down on Skye’s shoulder. She flinched. “Madoc sees tracks.”

Atlas turned to Milla. “They have to be fresh.”

“How many were there?” Milla said.

Skye calculated on her hand. “They were muddled, but I would say at least a half dozen.”

What kind of prints were they? Hudson asked. Atlas relayed his question.

“Hoof prints, paw prints, footprints.” Skye shrugged. “All there. We couldn’t pick out exactly what kind of animals there were.”

They came over the next rise to see the fresh tracks ahead. Atlas searched for the nearby party, but only gained a fistful of sand to his face.

Milla hid June’s Northern colors. “Bandits, I bet.”

If they were caught by travelling thieves, they could be held for ransom by their status to the king. It would stop their mission indefinitely, immediately.

A hot anger bubbled under Atlas’s skin. Their mission was too important to be stopped.

“There is an oasis ahead,” Skye said. “They’re probably headed towards that.”

“Thanks for mentioning it before.” Atlas forced civility to his voice. It was time for a refill to their water skins, or they would have to start dipping into their reserves from Wisp.

Milla sloshed the water in her own container. “We’ll have to make a detour.”

Atlas gazed longingly at the tracks before digging his boots firmly into the sand, and plowing away. He took the lead, keeping the Impressa constellation in sight.

This better be worth it. I’ve had enough of this sand, he grumbled.

Winning a war? Saving our home? Hudson thought. Oh yes, I think so very much.

Kane

The city, for one of the few times in Kane’s memory, was quiet. Sounds seemed to be muffled under the dreary sky. Everyone in their right mind was inside to escape it.

As Cooper re-knotted his vitrum braids, Kane examined the rubble of the jail. Elben architects had been held back by Poppy’s appeal to King Asher to conserve the evidence.

If only we knew where the Harpers were now. Kane looked at the Northern Mountains. Maybe they’re already out of our reach.

Flint withheld any comment, but his undercurrent of uncertainty was enough.

Cooper threw the first braid down.

What if it’s just some Nora soldier? Someone we would never know. Kane crossed his arms. How would this help us then?

Poppy and the other guards gave a quiet murmur as the second braid was tossed inside the first, sharpening the glass image to clarity.

It was Charlotte, with her artic fox fera Chloe. In the picture, the fox was beginning to turn its winter white. Her human demurely knelt and then quickly stepped back, as if her life depended on it. The loop continued until it was clear that the rings had captured the last act of Charlotte before their escape.

“She set the explosion.” Poppy jerked her head in a stiff nod. “But will it show how she got the weapon to do it? A visitor? A guard?”

Cooper pulled a final vitrum braid from his pocket. It was the smallest of them yet, but just as intricately done. He knotted the ends together, and laid it gently over the other two, making a bullseye pattern. “Haven’t tried this. Let’s see how it goes.”

The miniature scene widened. An outline of a cell could be seen, along with the pressed face of Lady Harper and her cat as they eagerly watched Charlotte through a screen of vitrum. Kane was nervous to see the excitement in Lady Harper’s glass face. The joyful hate smoldering in her eyes.

Perhaps Nora was not their major concern.

Kane hit the earth as Flint bowled into him. Danger! the deer’s thoughts shrilled.

The ground seemed to roll beneath them, trying to buck its inhabitants as steadfastly as a mad horse. Kane had nothing to hold onto. He tried to curl into a fetal position, but every attempt ended in a sprawl. A rock cut his cheek, and another bruised his shin as it swam with the motion around them.

It ended in a rumble, and Kane realized that a constant roar had pounded over them like a wave.

Flint’s eardrums rang, and it took some time before the fera could gain his bearings. The guards, Poppy, and Cooper all stayed low. Kane was afraid to move.

Was Cooper talking? Yes, it seemed the inventor was trying to say something. Kane crawled closer for a better hearing.

“That was a vitrum attack,” Cooper said, eyes wide. “We should be dead.”