Fall

Atlas

Nell, or rather Eliza, had been wise in their choice of path. The forest opened a healthy distance from Kinn; the capital of the West. Eliza had watched them intently as they left the boundaries of Trene. Had Atlas and his band been captured so soon after the treaty’s signing, Asher would most likely have dropped his end of the deal.

Although King Kayden would have enjoyed the gift, Hudson said, as Nell hinted.

Well she has no reason to hand us to him now. Atlas bit into the apple he had scavenged from the wild trees fringing the forest. If the West had one positive attribute, it was their abundance of food and greenery. The cornucopia of Eden, one scholar had called it. Atlas found the name fitting.

I hope my Chestic isn’t too rusty. It’s been nearly a decade since our last mission there. Atlas threw his apple core into a passing ditch.

They may have changed the basis of their language, if they’re in the same state as last time, Hudson chuckled.

Atlas smiled. The South was just as young as the West, but was less populated due to its harsh environment. Developing towns worked as mini-kingdoms, jealously guarding their homes and wealth. The leaders of each town gathered at the capital four times annually to prevent wars and encourage various reforms.Sometimes, as Atlas had experienced firsthand, the reforms reverted the land, leading to an imperfect, but doable, seesaw system.

We will be sticking our paws into a hornet’s nest. Hudson slowed to inspect the imprints he made in the crumbling earth. As they drew closer to the Southern border, everything would dry up. The ground. The air. Their chances of ending the mission in a single month.

Atlas hoped Kane was okay. He knew of his son’s inner battles, and feared the princeship would trigger them again.

He has Flint, Hudson reminded him. That deer is wiser and more steadfast than a king. He will keep Kane in check.

We will have to hope that is enough. Atlas sighed. I should have let Milla lead this mission. I should have had more time with Kane.

Regret can only harm us here. Hudson yawned. And perhaps the pull of a long sleep.

Ah, the West’s change can do that to you. Atlas patted the bear affectionately. We’ll be in the land of sun and sand soon.

Hudson shook his head. Hibernation is like a fly buzzing in my ear. Every year it comes with a weaker urge, but it is still there.

Atlas fed him a bit of comfort. The South will be better.

“Atlas!” Milla called. “Do you have a map?”

“That must be a rhetorical question.” Atlas pulled his guide from his pocket.

“Good.” Milla pointed ahead. “Because we need to be sure we’re heading in the right direction.”

“To Chesa!” Skye cheered.

Piper

You’re paranoid, Reine growled.

Paranoid? Piper adjusted the hood on her cloak. I am taking healthy precautions.

If someone recognizes us, so be it. We should be honored!

You forget we are in the land of our enemies now. We killed hundreds, if not thousands, of their warriors. Piper shivered, and closed her eyes. Many of them could have been our neighbors. My kin.

Reine made a wide perimeter around a puddle Piper had stomped through. Well, that’s why we’re here, aren’t we?

The gates had been relatively easy to get through. With a fake identification Milla had made each of them, Finch and Piper had breezed into the walled town. Piper had not known the guards, which was a relief. Any experienced predecessors were most likely aiding the war effort.

Finch had been quiet for several moments after their entrance, walking close to Piper. He sent Chip into a light hover over them. Then a change had come over him, like a reptile shedding skin. His gait changed, the hunch of his shoulders, and even a softer expression graced his face. A shock had come over Piper when she realized he was mimicking the natives of Biscay. Her childhood home.

It seemed to work. She received far more second glances than Finch, although all traces of the North had been removed from her clothes.

It’s the hood, Reine said. You’re drawing suspicion.

And a Northern leopard would not?

Didn’t you find me here? Reine countered. In a place that has a fera emporium, it’s not the animals that stand out, but the people.

Piper bit her lip in worry. It’s been less than a year since I left. Someone will know me.

We can’t be certain until you take that hood off.

I’m not taking the hood off! Piper snapped.

Reine withdrew slightly, as if stung. She narrowed her pale eyes. Then don’t complain to me about double takes.

They snaked their way across Biscay until the docks were in sight. A pang of sorrow imbedded itself into Piper’s heart as she relived every day of her former life through the steady motions of the boardwalk. Creaking boats. Salty waves. Sour fish and exotic spices swirled around her with each step. The barks of sailors and their fera filled the afternoon air.

When Piper looked to Finch, he wore an odd combination of disdain and respect. “You lived here?” he said in a hard Kinnish which was adjusting even as he spoke.

“Is there a problem?” Piper asked calmly.

Finch shook his head. “I thought you lived somewhere… nicer, that’s all.”

It’s a world better than your bird cage in Elbe, Reine spat. Piper did not rebuke her.

“Do you want to stay here, or wait at the market?” Piper said.

Finch furrowed his brows. “No. I’ll come with you.”

Piper continued onwards past each crammed apartment. For the windows that lacked curtains, she was able to see pieces of strangers’ homes, but yet so familiar to her with their seafaring comforts. Did they have stocked shelves full of Eden-wide fare as well? Had their family members returned each day to tell about a discovered word in Chestic, or present a gift bought from the newly docked merchant?

Finch backtracked slightly on his word. He melted into the bustle of a nearby boat, but Piper knew he would continue to watch them.

The door was in front of them. The door of Piper’s memories. She hesitated to move closer to it. Her hand hovered over its shining handle.

Something’s wrong, Reine said.

Piper paused. What?

Pressing her nose to the opaque window, Reine sniffed it closely. Stale.

Stale what? Piper said.

Stale human scent. Very stale. Reine turned with a twitch of her whiskers.

Gulls cried overhead. Piper’s heart sank. She wrestled with her fera’s words. Stale scent? No people?

Reine gave a small snarl. Lucy moved.