Fall

Kane

Donovan’s steps were measured and heavy besides Kane’s, and even more so compared to Flint’s light gait. Together, with a trio of Kane’s guards, they clopped and clicked their way to the throne room.

King Asher was on his dais, with Levi sitting complacently next to the throne. “Kane. Donovan.”

They each rose from a kneel at their name. Kane glanced to Donovan, curious.

What do you think he has that’s so important? Kane wondered. He had been practically wrenched from his room without warning.

King Asher gave a look to Kane’s guards, who excused themselves from the room. “You found something?”

Donovan pulled a tattered parchment from his pocket. “This was found not too far from a mad dog fera. The one—Cooper has informed us—that was bonded to the bomber. Apparently it was a last effort, but the dog was lost on our mountain paths.” He unrolled it carefully. “In Kinnish, it reads, ‘I have been cornered, but the prince is injured. Take care of Quimby.’”

“Short and sweet,” the king drawled. “But hardly worth a meeting, Donovan.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Donovan said curtly. “We let the dog go.”

Kane blinked. What?

I think there’s more to this, Flint thought.

King Asher said, “And?”

“We followed it. It was trying to go home.” Donovan gave a wicked grin. The grin was one of a hunter. Kane looked to Briar perched on his shoulder. Or a bird of prey.

“And?” King Asher prompted.

“The fera brought us to a nest of them. We kept one alive that was willing to talk. You know what he said?” Donovan rocked on his heels, his expression cooling. “He said there was never a cease-fire. Paper policies don’t apply to them. So you know what this means?”

Donovan paused. “We’ve been in a false peace, Asher. Think of Nora. They’re coming up through the cracks, into the walls like roaches.”

King Asher tented his hands. He said softly, “What do you suggest?” Levi was very still by the throne.

“We’re outnumbered two to one. We’re surrounded by knots and knots of troops ready to hang us. There really are slim pickings. Atlas may be your man for defense,” he cracked his knuckles, “but I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words. I say act on the offense, my king. Fight while we still have air to breathe.”

Kane was gripped with a sense of detachment, as if he were watching a past scene from future eyes. He wished his father were here to add his input, or Piper her insight to the West, or Milla her great wisdom. Something, someone, that would make this situation better. But there was only Donovan, King Asher, and he. Three souls to determine the fate of thousands.

Life help us, Kane thought.

King Asher bowed his head, then lifted it slowly. “Then we must fight.”

Piper

There was not much to the town of Swiftford. Nestled in the tall grass of a nearby river, it boasted five barns with pairing silos and barnyards. One building in the center of these barns acted as its trading post, hospital, pub, and limited grocery. It was a puzzling arrangement that forced Piper to vault over locked chests and sacks of flour to reach the counter at the far end, where a kindly clerk—or bartender, Piper wasn’t sure—waited for them.

“You’re slower than the last visitors,” the woman chuckled.

Piper slid onto the high bench next to Finch. She rubbed the back of her head, where a hanging lantern had swung into it.

“They had bigger fera too,” the woman added. “Ah, gone are the days when someone would be happy with a cat. Now all they want are elephants and alligators, eh?”

“I have a cat,” Piper said with a smile.

“So you do, lassie. But it’s not any cat, is it?” the woman leaned an elbow on the counter, tucking a strand of hair under her bandana. “A leopard. Get her as a kitten, yeah? Shipped in a tidy box?”

A tidy box? Reine demanded. Do I appear tame? She unsheathed her claws so they lay even on the wood.

Piper shook her head. “She was half-grown when we were bonded.”

The woman grunted appreciatively, and straightened. “Name’s Mary. What can I get for you today?”

When Piper looked to Finch, he bobbed his head to encourage her answering. “Do you have any horses? For sale?”

“Unbonded fera, eh?” Mary tapped a beat on the counter. “Not too many of those out here. But the few that I know are of quality.” She snapped her fingers, “You seem like decent folk. Maybe I’ll help. How many do you need?”

“Two.”

Mary screwed her eyes shut like a little girl, then showed a toothy grin. “Yeah, I think two farms could spare one unbonded horse each. I can’t leave the shop, but I can let Critter show you where to go.”

A rustling in the jars above Mary’s head grabbed Piper’s attention. Behind the glasses of candy and boxes of crackers, a brown blur shot along the shelves. It made a mighty leap to the counter, and ended up in Mary’s rescuing palm instead.

Mary eyed them shrewdly. “You don’t mind following a chipmunk, do you?”

I don’t mind them as a light snack, either, Reine said.

“Of course not,” Piper said. She put a hand on Reine’s head in warning. “We’re grateful for—“

“Critter won’t slow for slowpokes,” Mary informed them brusquely. “So keep up, and he won’t leave you behind.”

The chipmunk scurried off the counter and into the maze of the shop. Piper and Finch watched Critter go in surprise.

“What are you waiting for, a miracle?” Mary said. “He’ll show the way. On with you!”