Fall

Kane

Cooper’s lab could exist anywhere, thanks to his ever-mobile tools. Although an official room waited for the inventor among his fellows, he preferred to pick up and move his space at a moment’s notice.

This made him hard to find.

“Do you know where Cooper is? Head of vitrum?” Kane went from room to room, inventor to inventor, asking this. His guards trailed after him like ripples in a pond.

We’re going to be late. Is he hiding? Kane fumed.

Now why would humans hide? There are no wolves here. Flint flicked his ears.

Kane didn’t bother explaining. He went to a woman hovering over a glass case. In a bed of dirt, two vitrum leaves laid side by side.

“Do you know where—“

“Shh!” The woman pulled him away. “Sh, sh, sh…”

Kane opened his mouth, then stayed mute. He glanced to the door, where his guards swarmed angrily. They readied their weapons, prepared to strike. Poppy growled a profanity.

“Your voice waves may disturb my research. I will not,” the woman sucked in a breath, “start over one more time.”

Voice waves. Okay. Kane wondered how he could speak to a woman who only allowed her sole voice. It now came to his attention that they were the only two in the room besides his guards at the doorway.

A field mouse crept from beside the glass, twitching its whiskers inquisitively. The woman glanced back. “No.” She jabbed a finger at Kane. “Are you a lackey of King Asher?”

Flint laughed. Lackey! Yes!

How long has she been in this room? Kane frowned. “N—“

“Shh!” The inventor hissed. “The plants will only grow with my voice. It will be perfect.”

Kane blinked in surprise.

“Here, here.” Scuttling over to a worn glass board covered in scrawl, the inventor wrote Yes/No and cleared her throat. “You were sent by King Asher?”

Kane came closer, and pointed to No.

“Huh. By your coat, I thought you had something to do with him.”

Kane tapped Yes and motioned to his mouth.

“No, you can’t speak. Let me see…” While the inventor thought of more yes and no questions, Kane grabbed a vitrum pen resting on the board’s tray and wrote a name before she could intervene. Cooper—head of vitrum.

“Ah! You should have let me know in the first place.” The woman shook her head. “Check the gardens. Don’t say thank you. You’re welcome.”

In the twitch of a rabbit’s tail, Kane was back in the main hallway with Flint and his entourage.

Lackey, haha! Flint closed his eyes in mirth.

Lackey, Kane muttered.

Atlas

The mayor of Wisp was no less hospitable than the night before. His Peregrine falcon watched them with intense focus, memorizing every inch of them it seemed, while the man himself gave them a smile.

“I assume you slept well?” he said.

“Yes.” Atlas kneeled, reconsidered, then crossed his legs. He didn’t know how long they would be sitting.

Hudson’s snout peeked through the tent flap. It’s only morning, but the heat is beginning to settle. June and I will need shade.

Milla was given this same message from June, for she quickly said, “Friend, do you have stables or a place of shade for our fera to rest?”

The mayor nodded. “Of course. I wondered how your creature of night would fare in the light of day.”

“Creature of night…” Atlas said in halting Chestic. “Why do you call him that?”

“Usually, your kind of fera stay up in the West and, obviously, North. Animals with heavy coats only live well at night here. Combined with its dark pelt, I would be wary with its health.”

“We have been here before. But I thank you for your concern.” Atlas didn’t mention that they had stayed nearly the entire time in Chesa, which hugged the Bay of Shiloh and provided a constant breeze from the water. It was truly an oasis compared to Wisp’s current location.

A wash of relief came over Hudson as he and June were enveloped by the coolness of a pavilion. Dishes of water, dried beef, and thin grass were set out for them.

“We were told to meet Thorn. If I may be so bold, friend, is that you?” Milla said.

The mayor clasped his fingers together. “I am Thorn, and apologize for not introducing myself earlier. There was still uncertainty about your trustworthiness.”

“And now?” Atlas ventured.

Thorn shrugged. “You expect me to fully trust strangers on the second meeting? Ambassadors should know better.”

Milla shot Atlas a stern glance. He bowed his head, aware of his error, and let her take the delicacies.

“Tell me about Nora,” Thorn said.

Milla was grateful for the change of subject. She began with Nora acting as the final splinter between Northern and Western communication, a vague account of their assassination attempts in Elbe, and their ability to embed themselves in any social circle as seen through the Harpers.

While she narrated, Atlas kept an eye on Skye. The girl hung on every word between her grandmother and Thorn, but her pursed lips clearly showed her lack of understanding. She would soon have to encounter a different kind of practice besides survival and fighting; learning Chestic.

Milla will be in charge of that, Atlas thought.

Hudson’s voice was fainter than normal as their bond stretched. You can be of assistance, too. This will be valuable experience for our own trainee one day.

Atlas realized that Milla had stopped talking. Thorn closed his eyes, and even his fera looked thoughtful.

“After your story, I am inclined to think this was an act of Nora.” Thorn smoothed his starry coat. “But what if King Asher has sent you to… clean up the cow dung, as we say. What if these attacks were truly by the North?”

No! Hudson rumbled. Atlas was surprised by the bear’s anger, which burned along their bond like flame on a rope. He kept his own facial expression in check as Thorn’s falcon scrutinized the room.

“Why would you think that, friend?” Milla said softly. Her Chestic was as quiet as the whispering sands around them.

Skye caught onto the tension. Madoc wilted on her shoulder.

“Why would I not, when I saw with my own eyes what happens when you trust creatures of night.” Thorn sighed. “You have given me much to think about.”

“We have the same enemies. It comes down to if you recognize what evil is, friend.” Milla bowed her head, then met the glazed eyes of Thorn. “We appreciate your hospitality, and it will not be forgotten by the North. Our goal is to head to Chesa, and you are welcome to accompany us.”

Thorn was silent for a long time. “You are bold, for thinking I believe your words.”

Atlas stiffened. Hudson.

I’m coming. Hudson stood, shaking off a layer of sand that had blown into his fur. June was alert beside him.

Thorn chuckled. “Because I do.”