Fall

Kane

“Up and at’em! Come on, come on, vitrum doesn’t harvest itself,” Cooper shouted cheerfully through his glass megaphone. Kane, who was directly beside him, covered his ears, then switched to covering Flint’s when he realized the deer was in further torment.

“What do we have to help with?” Kane asked loudly. It was the day after King Asher’s meeting with the group, and he had risen at dawn to meet with the inventor.

Cooper lowered his megaphone, and bit into his breakfast sandwich. His koala slept peacefully on his back, oblivious to its human’s noise. “Hm….Hm…” He swallowed. “Well, you can sort for me. Always need more of those.”

“Sort vitrum?”

“Yes. Only the clearest and brightest make it into production, you know.” Cooper looked out over the fields. Thousands of carts and fera milled across it, pulling circular harvesters that wrenched the glass plants from the ground and piled them into the carts’ rear. At the end of each row, a vitrum pile was gradually being made. By the end of the day, Kane knew each pile would be enormous, and take many days to break down.

Kane had sorted vitrum before, as hired help, but had expected a larger responsibility with his new title.

“Am I getting paid?” he inquired.

Cooper laughed. “That’s a good one, Kane. I knew you had a bit of dry humor to you. We’ll meet back here at lunch.”

Atlas

Clothes? Hudson rumbled.

Check, Atlas replied.

Food?

Atlas grimaced. Milla’s in charge of that. He knew she would be rummaging the royal storage as they spoke, gathering every bit of dehydrated meat, biscuits, and fruit she could stuff into June’s saddlebags.

Weapons? Coins? Any extra documents? Atlas’s fera asked from the closet doorway.

Check, check, and… Hm. Opening his nightstand, Atlas weighed two scrolls in his hand. One, tied with a blue ribbon, was a declaration drafted by Asher to Nell, granting official nation status to Trene. The other, tied in gold, was the newest, yet-to-be published, edition of the Northern maps. It clearly outlined and labeled Trene in green ink. Atlas had overseen the project himself in the weeks after the battle, and tried to transfer every detail from his original sketch from the winter before to the current version. Nell, however, was the final judge.

He put both scrolls into his pack. I hope this is everything we need.

It’s just enough, Hudson said.

Atlas sat on his bed, the wooden beams squeaking in protest. They were leaving the next morning, and yet he had never felt so underprepared since his trainee days. Kane was gone with his princely duties. Kit had hidden away in her room, as Micah had in mourning. Thea was busying herself under the guise of helping him pack, but he could see the tears in the corners of her eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking.

His support for this trip was nonexistent.

I wonder if we’re doing the right thing, leaving now. Atlas held open his palms, then closed his fingers over them. I’ll stay. Milla will lead this mission in my stead.

Hudson was silent. He had put up a thin barrier between them, hiding his thoughts before they slipped through their link. If Atlas concentrated, he could see the bear’s emotions without prying, like the sun through canvas.

You’re torn. You think we should go. Atlas swung his head to where his fera sat stiffly on the carpet.

With a sigh, Hudson shredded the mental barrier. Yes, I think we should go. I think we have a chance at ending the war before other generations are involved. Think of Kane, fighting this after Asher. Think of our grand-cubs that he and Kit will have.

Atlas had a vision of his son and daughter fighting in the streets of Elbe. Fera to fera, sword to sword. No. They wouldn’t—couldn’t—get into Elbe. The Northern Mountains have always protected us.

The East and West came to our doorstep. They will try again, Hudson said, his tone grim. We were lucky Piper surprised them.

Atlas felt a horrible ache in his chest. Thea, Kit, Kane… Will they understand?

I don’t know. Hudson put his head on his paws, freely sharing his misery.

Atlas hung his head. They will have to.

Piper

Piper had to prepare for the journey the next morning. She had to pack, shower, and then rest. She could have been doing a thousand other things that could have been more helpful than standing in front of a narrow door in the royal servant’s quarters.

You think the messengers—and spies—would be given better lodging. Reine sniffed the cramped hall with distaste. The king could have given him one of the empty ambassador houses. Life knows they need to be filled.

I wonder how many others are in his profession, Piper said.

Reine settled coolly on the slate floor. If he is a rare human, then we are more alike than I perceived.

All humans are rare. We are each one of a kind. Piper composed herself as she heard footsteps approaching. She was surprised to see Finch round the corner on their right.

One of his eyebrows arched. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.” Piper crossed her arms. “But I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

Piper looked at the other doors around them. “Is it okay to ask questions here?”

“Mm.” Finch looked to his fera perched on one of the bird-friendly posts in the wall. “I should probably let you in. On one condition.”

Piper nodded. “Yeah?”

Finch smiled as he brushed by her to his door. “Don’t blow anything up.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Piper let a little of Reine’s venom sour her words.

We saved you, you cowardly messenger! Reine spat. Respect your heroes!

He’s just joking, Piper said.

I don’t think I’m going to let this sarcastic bird-brain become your mate after all.

Instead of dissolving into an argument with Reine, Piper focused on observing Finch’s apartment. If it could be called that.

A walk-in closet would be better, Reine quipped.

It was a two-room lodge with basic necessities, such as a bed, limited kitchen, and enough furniture to eat up any standing room. The air smelled faintly of mint and wheat.

Piper and Reine took a seat on the couch, while Finch sat across from them in an overstuffed chair. Birdseed was scattered on the table between them, which Finch’s fera immediately started to peck at.

How does he not have rodents? Reine said critically. There’s birdseed everywhere. Skye doesn’t get this messy with Madoc.

Piper tried to break the silence that had gathered thickly since they came in. “Reine wonders why you have so much birdseed.”

Finch gave a lopsided grin. “I’ve got a bird, that eats birdseed. Don’t worry about the mess though. Chip will find every last seed. He likes to think of it as a game.”

“Oh. Well that’s good.” Piper rubbed the back of her neck. “So listen…” She took a deep breath. “If—If we’re going on this trip together, we can’t keep secrets. I don’t want to know if your third cousin has a raccoon fera or anything, but being a spy is a big deal.”

“You’re upset I didn’t tell you before?” Finch wore a wry smile. It reminded Piper somewhat of Loy.

Life, yes! Reine growled.

Piper put a hand on the leopard, calming her. “Yeah, I guess. I just need to know if I can trust you.”

Finch chuckled, then broke into laughter. Piper and Reine stared at him in confusion.

“Why do you think I would tell you that?” Finch gasped as he recovered his breath. “That is classified information.”

“I’m a friend to the king, hero of Elbe, and friend to you…” Piper trailed off. She felt pained that she had to explain this to him. He had been acting so friendly after the battle, but perhaps that’s all it had been; an act for the hero.

Reine jumped onto the conclusion. Yes! He’s just a pompous fool with birdseed. We’ll make him pay for his mistakes.

Finch softened. “Piper, Reine, don’t worry about it.” He leaned forward, and let his fera jump onto his outstretched hand. “If it helps—my secrets don’t get bigger than me being a spy for King Asher. You can trust me.”

Trust me. His mannerisms echoed that of Charlotte, the second heir and assassin to Kane Fletcher. Before the battle, Piper had been tricked into leading Kane into an ambush that nearly succeeded, if not for the intervention of Flint.

Piper rose, fighting the anger of Reine and her own uncertainties. “Okay. Thank you for—“ She stopped herself midsentence when she remembered he hadn’t served them anything, “Thank you for your time.”

Leading them to the door, Finch gave a tiny bow. “And yours as well, Piper Amur.”