Fall
Chapter 42

Piper

It wasn’t until night that Reine found something. Piper could hear the pig’s squeals from far off, and it echoed louder in her head through their fera link.

The pig was a rough, bristled thing that was impervious to the barbed ferns and soft dirt Reine dragged it through. When she finally came in sight, Piper’s stomach rumbled at the thought of a real meal.

Finch brought out his vitrum disk, and turned it into a small hunting knife. “We’ll have to take what we can, and bury the rest.”

Piper had started to stack wood for a fire, then paused. “What if this works against us? What if this acts as a beacon?”

“We can’t eat pork raw. And we can’t not eat.” Finch made a little mound of earth with his foot. “Got a third option for me?”

Piper did not. Nor did Reine, who was ready to tear into her kill.

I don’t have the patience or weakness of stomach to wait for a pig to cook. Give me my share now. Reine swiped her tongue over her maw.

Piper took out her alea, and informed Finch what she was going to do before unlocking the weapon. She was delighted when it shimmered into a short sword. Using the alea like a large knife, she carved off the pig’s head and limbs for Reine and left the torso for Finch to disassemble.

They were both left sticky and exhausted as they sat over the fire and watched the pork sizzle in its own fat. Finch’s vitrum disk had been especially helpful when it turned into a clear pan. It was much handier than shoving the rubbery meat onto sticks.

Reine polished off her share, but still had leftovers when all was finished. These Piper had her bury with some regret. Their own meal was bland without seasoning, but still felt nourishing after so long without food.

There was still so much of the pig left. Piper stared at it across the fire for some time, debating on what they should do with it.

“We can cook some more, but all of it will take forever,” Finch said. He cut the next round of pork thin to fit side by side in the vitrum pan. They shriveled and grew dark, almost to burning when Piper took them out of the heat. She knew pork on its own would spoil fast, but perhaps in an imitation form of jerky it would last longer. Milla’s insistence on dried food for trips now made sense.

“Looks like we’re having charcoal for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Piper’s announcement made Finch smile. Just then, Reine’s ears pricked, and her head shot up from a doze. Danger.

Peach, spotted fur flashed in the corner of Piper’s eyes. A lumbering shadow followed it in semi-stealth.

She looked to Finch, and her heart sunk. Tennyson, she mouthed.

The Eastern leopard and thief circled the fire, not giving themselves away. The silence of their pursuers made the situation ominous, and Piper felt a shiver of fear.

Reine broke the fear with a low growl as she rose. Her teeth were bared, and her aggression clear.

They had been found after all.

Atlas

The night around them was soft and comforting, like a blanket in the South’s endless summer. The stars tonight were paled in comparison to the much closer torches and nests of fire pits scattered throughout the sand town.

Everyone was celebrating. Neighbors, strangers, family and friends would greet each other and share the mirth of the event over food and drink that freely flowed from the doorways. Countless eyes were alight in joy, while matching mouths were ever turned in smiles.

“Don’t eat anything unless you see it prepared before you,” Milla whispered, and repeated the warning to Skye.

Atlas was the spearhead of their trio as they wove through the crowd. Skye, a small and awed creature, stayed close to them as she drank in the sights and sounds. Chesa had been slow to rouse, but now it was awake and hungry.

They went past the residential and business sides of the city to reach the great pavilion where the heart of the night lay. Where it had been an anthill before, now it was a storm of servants and workers as they scrambled to seat the towns of the South. Flurries of cooks chopped and stirred under the direction of the head chef. Islands of waiters clumped together as they received their orders, and melted back into their streams between the tables.

At the far end of the tent, where guards and fera abounded, a slightly more elaborate table was set up with permanent chairs, most likely imported from the city. Settled at this long table were the people of importance Atlas and Milla had to persuade. Mayors and their families made up the majority of this seating, with some favored dignitaries from their towns.

Milla gave the waiter a garnished card that had been sent to Linden’s house, and they were ushered to three seats in the middle. Atlas had his back to the main event now, and this unsettled him. Hudson made sure to face the crowd, preventing the chance of a surprise audience.

It was loud, and Atlas wondered how they were supposed to talk of anything meaningful when half of it was gobbled up by the collective conversations.

Milla was again in his ear. “We will be here for a long time. Pay attention, so we will not miss our chance.”

Atlas glanced to Skye, who already appeared bored by the buzz of Chestic around them. She stared at the canvas over them, her eyes connecting the lines where the swaths were sewed together. In a way, the canvas was just another constellation.

Hudson shifted in the sand at his feet. You are apprehensive?

I’m not excited at the thought of a waiting game, Atlas said. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Hudson shifted again, trying to get comfortable. It’s one night. A marathon of a test. But we can do this. For Thea, Sadie, Kit, Arlo, Kane, Flint, Asher, Levi, Piper, Reine, the North, he said. Our home.

Yes. Atlas looked around, surveying the table. For our home.

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