Fall

Atlas

Oh Life, Atlas thought as he came to the front.

They would not be passing by the East. In the far distance, the Northern Mountains could be seen. But between them and the territory line were hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Red, green, blue.

Why was Asher here? The battle lay before him in an all too similar layout to his vitrum maps. Tents were like islands in an unstable tide. The only boundary keeping the two sides from clashing was a bald stripe down the center, something so fragile it begged to be crossed.

If the East-West and North hadn’t seen then before, they would now. The South was spread thickly on the border, swarming amongst themselves, trying to figure out what to do.

“Your call, Atlas,” Milla said beside him.

It was too late to turn back at this point. Someone would chase after them. “We’ll have to go around the Western side, and merge with the North.”

Milla nodded, and started to talk rapidly in Chestic to the mayors near them. She had Skye ride June through the mass of towns, relaying the message. Slowly, like a gear shifting, the towns began to roll forward. They had the sand cows in the middle. If they survived, it would be a pain to untangle the ownership of the cows again.

Thorn kept pace with them. “I see the North.”

He didn’t mention the East and West, who were greatly outnumbering the blue. A heavy dread settled on Atlas.

Asher must have been hard pressed to go on the offense. He was advised to do this. The king was not an aggressive person, but could be swayed with reason.

Maybe Elbe had fallen.

No, Atlas shoved the thought from his mind. They would be on the extreme defense in that situation, saving their families and ties, not spending the last of their strength.

It still baffled him that the North would go so far from Elbe. They must have crossed miles and miles of hostile territory. Who knows how many troops were lost.

And who was leading them?

That’s when Hudson picked up a familiar scent. You’re not going to like this.

Antlers rose over the soldier sea. Under the rack was a lone deer.

Atlas felt his jaw drop. “Flint.”

Kane

They had sent a request for help immediately. All too quickly the reality of the situation was crashing around them.

They had walked into a trap. A foolish, fatal—

Utterly fantastic move, Kane thought. He was under one of the last trees on the Western plains. An impromptu command base had been set up. Donovan and others were rushing around, digging trenches and setting up defenses. Walls of shields, walls of fear.

But what they really needed to do was turn back. Run.

King Asher had sent them to death, and Kane was at the head of it. With a great chunk of the North taken out, would Elbe survive? Surely Cooper’s vitrum weapons would hold them off, but for how long?

They needed Cooper here now. Kane had written that much in his request. Would the king see his panic in the blocky letters of Elben?

The messenger bird had been wrapped in lightweight leather armor, to prevent it from being shot down. This would also slow its progress somewhat. Life willing, the bird would be at the Northern Mountains by the next morning.

They could be slaughtered by tomorrow morning. Tents ablaze, men on the ground, fera running mad.

Flint shattered this image. We need to be brave.

I don’t feel brave at the moment, Kane said.

Are any of us? Flint shot back. He took in the two armies camped out of the Eastern jungle. They were waiting for the North.

Kane’s thoughts started to chase themselves again. We were fools. King Asher was a fool. The North will die because of us.

Flint stomped his hooves, startling the triple guard around them. We can’t give up, Kane. There’s so much more we can do on this earth.

That’s when he heard his name. “Kane? Kane!”

He turned his head, and his heart sank. “Dad?”

His triple guard went to block Atlas, but then backed away when they realized who it was. The ambassador wrapped him in a bear hug. “Kane, why are you here?”

Kane pulled away. He looked to the armies, then back to his father’s worried face. “The king let me go.”

Atlas put his hand to his forehead. “Why did Asher let you leave—“

“Because I’m prince, and I have to help end this,” Kane said shakily. He took a breath. Then another. “You brought the South.”

They had been watching the band of folded tents and lowing cows all morning, unsure of what to do. The East and West had been equally surprised, which may have assisted to their lack of movement so far. It had been the question of if the South had come here on their own, or if they were led by another force. Donovan had ruled that the leaders of the South would come forward, and they had; in the friendly faces around them.

“Yes, we have.” Atlas motioned to a handful of men and women in colorful coats. One was in navy, speckled with bright dots. “These are the mayors of sixteen of the South’s towns. They would like to meet with everyone here.”

Donovan had come out of his tent. Briar floated lazily above them. “Atlas. I see you brought some friends.”

“They’ll be yours too shortly,” Atlas said. He paused. “Looks like we’re in a tight spot.”

“Tighter than usual,” Donovan agreed. “But with this new set of dice, perhaps the odds may fall a bit more gracefully.” He barked to some of the soldiers around them. “We’re not at a play, get up and moving! We need two more tables and lots of chairs!”

As the lower-ranked ran around them, Donovan sized up the mayors. “Well, we’ll see if this helps anything.”

Atlas smiled. “You don’t know the South.”