Fall

Atlas

The tent was not a prison cell. But neither was it a hotel room.

“Have we fallen into another snake nest?” Atlas whispered in Elben.

Milla sat across from him in the gloom. June’s shadow shifted outside the tent. “I don’t think so. Not this time, Atlas.”

Atlas rubbed his knee. “I assumed Skye knew Chestic.”

Milla pursed her lips. “Time has slipped away. I didn’t think she would be in the South on her second mission.”

“Hm. She’ll have to learn through immersion then.”

“Immersion?” Skye asked.

“Learning through living,” Milla said. “Watch us and the people of Wisp. Be alert.”

“Be alert.” She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I can do that.”

But be cautious, unless you want your lifespan to end at thirteen, Hudson advised. He watched the town from outside their quarters. Dog fera stood between every other tent like furred soldiers.

Repeating his fera’s warning, Atlas added, “You don’t want to accidentally anger them.”

“I’m sure they’ll love me.” Skye gave a winning beam, her teeth bright.

“We’ll see.” Atlas inwardly groaned. She doesn’t know anything.

We didn’t know anything at her age. We were at the cusp of something new, something great, Hudson said.

And death. We rubbed shoulders with death, Atlas added.

She’s headed in the right direction then, the bear said.

Atlas didn’t respond, but grabbed his blanket Milla had provided from June’s saddlebags and curled up on the farthest edge of the tent. A few hours later, Hudson woke him with a gentle prod of his thoughts.

Wisp awakens, he rumbled.

Milla left nothing to chance. She ordered a quick pack of their camp and filed their belongings back onto June. If they had to flee, none of their fingerprints could remain.

They conferred back inside the tent, savoring the time before negotiations and formalities.

“Okay.” Atlas spread his hands. “What’s the plan for today?”

Milla knotted her snow hair into a ponytail. “Survival.”

“You mean immersion.” Skye copied her grandmother, sweeping her hair slowly up and around her head.

“Both,” Atlas said with a grin.

A warrior cautiously approached their tent, his pale snake slithering after him. Hudson laid like a statue before the entrance, calm before the newcomers.

The snake began to trail its human as they came closer. It coiled into itself, and the warrior turned back to nudge it along.

Hudson chuckled. I think it likes me.

Atlas closed his eyes, and watched the scene through his fera.

The warrior growled in Chestic. “Stay then.” He plowed forward in the sand.

When he saw Hudson he slowed. “It seems the Northerners have brought a creature of night with them.”

Hudson considered this for a moment, then stood. The uneven ground made quick movements difficult, but Hudson persevered until he reached his full height.

The snake slithered back, hissing. Its human bared his teeth. “You don’t scare me!”

Of course. Hudson was level with the man’s waist. Why would I?

Atlas peeled open the tent flap. He kept his Chestic clipped. “Hello? Something wrong, friend?”

Dusting sand from his colorful vest, the warrior growled. “Yes. Keep your Northern fera close, friend. Thorn wants you.”

“Thank you.” With a wave of his hand, Atlas had Milla and Skye follow him out of their tent.

“And who is Thorn?” Milla whispered in Elben.

“Let’s hope he’s friendly. Or she.” Atlas shaded his eyes from the already bright sun.

We’ll be fine, Hudson said. We’re one step closer to finishing our mission. One step closer to home.

Piper

Piper sat on the low bench that wrapped around the room. She held a steaming cup of coffee, and placed it politely beside her as Woodlock pulled up a chair to face them.

“So,” he said. “You’re not dead.” His rabbit slipper nodded at Piper from his crossed leg.

Thank you, genius. Reine’s tail angrily swished across the floor.

Piper refused to let her fera’s attitude affect her tone. “Yes.” She tried to think of a way to twist the topic out of Woodlock’s grasp without being rude.

Finch was ahead of her. “Times were hard here after the battle. I was away on a charter, but heard of the carnage.”

Woodlock sighed. “Unfortunately Mr. Smidge, I had lots of business after that battle. Mostly from families who had tried to find care everywhere else. Hospitals and private medics alike were swamped, and the out-patient flow has been slow. The woman who caused this—Amur is her name—has a dark heart.”

Piper’s breath caught, but Finch didn’t look her way as he took the reigns of the conversation. “I’ve read that the woman’s bird fera fed on the remains of her victims.”

Woodlock tucked Ingram back into his hat as he lowered his voice. “The papers say she has no fera.”

No fera? Reine said. No fera! By Life—

Piper pressed her hand firmly on Reine’s head. Stay calm. You must not have been seen by the armies.

I should be given credit, infamous or not, Reine spat. How could they not see me? How could they not hear of my strength?

We are both loved by the Elben people, Piper agreed.

“The North should turn her out if they have a scrap of honor left.” Woodlock scowled. “Our sons and daughters, killed in an instant. It’s revolutionary.”

“Yes,” Finch said in his perfect Kinnish. “Repulsing, really. Amur is a nightmare.”

Okay, that’s a little far, Piper thought. She stiffened when Woodlock noticed her again.

“Where have you been, Piper?” he asked. “It’s been nearly a year. Lucy was worried sick.”

Lucy. The conversation had rotated in their favor.

She needed to fabricate an answer. Piper reached out to Reine, and their thoughts intertwined. Like a cultured flower, a single idea was seeded and grew roots to fill the backstory.

“I was taken by the forest bandits,” Piper said. “But after a few months gained their trust and escaped to Kinn. There Smidge and I made a deal that if he helped me find profitable work in the city, I would accompany and navigate him through the forest back to the ports. I chose to return to Biscay to see Lucy… But can’t find her,” Piper concluded.

Was that too much? she said to Reine.

Hm. Maybe a Smidge too much, the leopard thought coyly. She watched Woodlock’s eyes. He believes us though.

“Lucy sold her apartment shortly after your disappearance. She was ready to up and move the girls to Kinn, actually, if I had not persuaded her to stay. I found them a steal on a foreclosing tailor’s shop, and they live above it now. Lucy even took a stab at the business, and runs the place.” Woodlock fixed his hat as Ingram scurried out and clung to his shoulder.

“Wow that’s… great.” Piper forced a smile. “Really great. I’m glad they’re doing well.”

Woodlock looked at the clock on the side wall, and frowned. “Oh, my first appointment should be here soon. Let me write down the name of Lucy’s shop for you.” He pulled a pad of paper from his pocket while Ingram leaped off his shoulder and ran back, lopsided with a thin pen he dragged behind him.

Piper thanked him as they were guided to the door. “The coffee was good—“

“And the talk was better. Thank you for your hospitality,” Finch finished.

Woodlock chuckled. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smidge. Best wishes on your journey, Piper Mink. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

As Piper wandered back to the main paths of Biscay, she thought about Woodlock’s parting words. Would Lucy point her in the right direction, act as her shining star?

Oh, Reine’s claws scratched the cobblestone, we’ll make her shine, we’ll make her sing!

Seeing Reine’s intentions, Piper said, we’re not going to hurt anyone.

You’re not going to hurt anyone, the leopard grumbled. But I can.

This reminded Piper of the incident earlier. The attack.

Hm? Reine suddenly found the flower shop to their left of the upmost importance. Woodlock said Lucy owns a place like this, correct?

The attack. How come it’s never happened to us before? Piper said. Why have I never heard of… violence, between bonded souls? She paused. Have there been recordings? Have I not read enough to find them? Wouldn’t Atlas or the others have told me—us?

I don’t know. And I don’t particularly care.

Piper shot a strand of panic to Reine. You don’t care that we could unintentionally harm each other at any time?

I was focusing on forcing something from you. It was intentional on my part. Reine slowed at the next shop, eyeing a pair of gerbils that fled from her sight. And I apologize.

Piper looked down at the leopard. You what?

I… apologize. Reine’s ears flattened. But you are to blame in part, for refusing to listen to me.

Refusing to listen? Piper spluttered. If you don’t remember, we are equal in this bond, and I—

“Talking again? Are we lost, Piper?” Finch muttered in Elben. He kept his voice low and out of range to their neighbors on the street.

This isn’t over, she told Reine. Taking a steadying breath, she shook her head. “We’re not lost. I have the name right here.” She showed the slice of paper Woodlock had cut with surgical precision. Roses Are Red.

“I wonder if their competition has anything to do with violets,” Finch remarked as he slipped back into his Western mannerisms like a second skin.

His chameleon change brought back Piper’s doubts about Finch’s credibility. If he could lie and shift as the king’s spy, what would prevent him from swindling them?

Reine did not answer the question, but instead gave a light growl as a new shop appeared ahead. Without words, the leopard gave Piper the scents she had picked up of new and old clothes that every tailor would have on hand and display.

After being a world apart, the underlying scent that Reine brought to her of Lucy almost seemed alien. But Piper had lived in her fera’s shared senses only briefly before being swept away with the ambassadors. She trusted that her fera was right.

Finch went faster, then allowed Piper to catch up to him. “That’s it.”

Piper glanced at the swinging sign above their heads as they entered. She hoped they were prepared for whatever came next.