Fall
Chapter 63

Piper

Finch had not come back. Tennyson and Taft had not returned. Now Piper was going to follow in their footsteps, to see beyond the gilded cage. The Glassing Court.

She stood with her family in front of the glittering tunnel that led to the abandoned cabin. On her back was a sack full of supplies. Her alea was snugly tucked into her vitrum-adorned belt.

There were no apologies. No tearful goodbyes. But regret was strongly felt.

“I wish I could stay,” Piper said. “I…”

Cedric nodded. “You don’t deserve to be locked away, Piper.”

“If there was another way to do this, we would pursue it,” Grace said. Her dove cooed on her shoulder.

You could come with me, Piper thought. Leave this fruitless goal.

“Maybe I’ll visit Elbe one day. Meet the king,” Remi added. He gave one of his rare grins. “And you’ll show me what it’s like out there.”

“Of course.” She faked a smile. “We’ll meet again.”

There was a wave of stiff silence, then Piper put a tentative step behind her. Then another. She walked to the decrepit cabin front, and out the door.

The Glassings were detached from the world, and Piper may have been a part of it had she not been given to Lucy. Stuck in vitrum like a fly in amber. They loved a figment of science more than flesh and blood. But maybe she could free them one day, if they accepted her help.

What awaited her beyond the East was a family that was not born to her, and kind eyes that looked to her heart, not through it.

As soon as she crossed the shallow stream outside the house boundaries, a weight shrugged off her head like an iron crown. She looked down to Reine. Are you ready?

I was born ready, Reine growled.

And they plunged back into the jungle.

Kane

The water had been slow to boil, but quick to spill blood. Every second there was a life and death battle between human and fera. North, South, East-West, all locked and roiling.

Vitrum units had an advantage over typical swords and shields, but they were few in number and had to stay close together. Regular footmen and archers fought to hold the line of trenches that divided the East-West from them.

Southern inventions had been an unexpected help. Barrels of exploding fire were rolled into clumps of enemy soldiers, along with surprise attacks that kept their opponents on their toes. Each town had their own subtle fighting style, but a savage grace came with every swipe and slice they gave. It was new and confusing to the East-West, and even the Northern allies, who made sure to stay clear of their death-spree.

Fera glinting in vitrum, metal and leather armor filled in the gaps between the warriors. Most of them stayed with their bonded human, but a few had turned into roving packs on both sides, tearing down single fera and surrounding soldiers who dared stray from their unit.

Amidst the constant battle cries and shout of pain, there would be a shrill sound that Kane now knew too well. It was beyond pain, beyond death. It was the shared scream of a fera and human taking their last breath as one, the surrender of sanity. It could be heard from anywhere on the plain.

Kane shivered, and closed his eyes.

“A messenger fera has been sent to Trene. Where is that Life-forsaken treehouse city?” Donovan growled. He gave an accusing glance to Atlas.

“They know their terms,” Atlas said. His face was a mix of worry and anger, unsure of which emotion was stronger. “They will come to our aid.” Hudson, ever the solid presence next to his father, nodded in agreement. Kane had forgotten how much the bear acted as not just Atlas’s rock, but his own.

It felt like an eternity since the battle started, but Kane knew it had only been a few hours. When he dared send Flint around the tents to investigate the trenches, carnage met them.

Death’s palette, Flint concluded grimly. And we’re the paint.

Their ring of protection would only grow smaller as the Northern and Southern forces fell back. If Nora had been a noose to Elbe, then the plains were their true gallows.

Kane was shaken. It was one thing to offer yourself to danger, and quite another for everyone around you to be in it. He didn’t see how the situation could improve. They needed time, always time, to recover and think instead of being pressed against the wall at knifepoint. Instead of running on broken glass.

Donovan moved some more units on his vitrum map, and Kane watched the little faceless figures struggle on the parchment. When Donovan touched one on its head, it reverted back to a marble he pocketed.

“Numbers are dropping, our odds are dropping,” he mumbled. The fighting seemed so close. It was not if but when the East-West would break past the trenches. Cooper needed to come. Trene needed to come.

Kane swallowed, and prayed.

Piper

Remi had been right; the jungle was not a friendly face. It had pitfalls and unnatural insects and underbrush that reached for your boots.

But, fake or not, a sliver of Elbe had imbedded itself in the heart of the enemy. A glass knife. Piper ran through the clear leaves, a bit of joy adding a spring to her step. She tripped and fell repeatedly, but after so many instances Reine decided to help her.

There’s a large log ahead, you’ll need to build up speed to jump it. Thick patch of vines here, you’ll trip if you’re going too fast.

Reine was of Northern stock, but was accustomed well enough to the hurdles of a forest. Piper could see her passing easily for an Eastern leopard, albeit a stunted one.

Her feet slipped on a series of loose roots. She cried out. Ah!

Why didn’t I tell you that one? Call me stunted again, Reine said.

For an Eastern leopard! Piper argued.

Leopards are leopards, Reine sniffed. Northern or Eastern.

Tell that to Taft. Piper groaned as she rose, then continued at a slower pace.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the Glassings. How she was a stranger to them. They had barely welcomed her, let alone with open arms. She wished things could have been different.

Vitrum, Reine said.

What?

Ever since Biscay, we’ve been entrenched it in. Yet that’s what everyone seems to want.

You’re right, Piper said. We do have something everyone… Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. The treaty.

Reine dropped her pace. The treaty?

Trene’s treaty. Piper sent her a memory. The North promised to give them vitrum.

Which your parents proved impossible. Reine circled back to her. Great reminder.

No, Piper shook her head. We can give them this.

Reine glanced at the live glass around them. But it’s not vitrum.

They don’t have to know that.

They will when they try to make weapons out of it, Reine retorted.

The North doesn’t have to give up the secret of making aleas, Piper continued. Just the plant.

Reine narrowed her eyes at the nearest vine. It’s a start, I suppose.

More than that. Piper grabbed a rope full of vine and activated her alea. It shimmered into the mace, but she used it anyway, carving away the vine with one of its pointed tips.

Shouldn’t the vitrum be alive? Reine said dryly.

I’m going to take a few samples. Piper placed the glass vine carefully in her pack, padding it with food packets. We’re in a jungle full of it.

They kept up their trek across the East, stopping only for meals and the occasional faux-vitrum. By nightfall, they were both exhausted and had reached the great highway of bridges that ran to Seine.

Finch and Tennyson had still not been seen, but they were days ahead of them, possibly on their way back from the territory’s edge.

Should we cross? Piper peered out of the reeds on their side of the bank. On the bridges, lanterns bobbed to the footsteps of Eastern patrolmen.

We won’t be able to see crocodiles in the water, Reine mused. I say go for it.

Why do you have to be so Life-forsaken sarcastic? Piper thought bitterly. If they made it across—assuming they did—they would be hard pressed to replace an excuse as to why they were on the bridges at that hour. Although it was damp and dense, to keep going on the jungle path appeared to be the easier way.

They crept along the marsh next to the highway, hidden by the high brush until their legs couldn’t carry them further. They fell asleep in the small hours of the morning, and were awakened by the early morning traffic of the Seinish. There was still too many eyes to watch them swim across the water, and by the time it was lunch they had veered away from the highway.

Piper guessed they were near the outer fringes of the territory, where patrols were scarce and the only animals to be seen were wild. It took them hours to go halfway through the mire, and another morning to see the land change.

She stumbled on the first stretch of flat land, expecting a divot or debris to hinder her. When she recovered, she turned to see the jungle behind her, its tall trees and whispering brush reaching out.

Life, she breathed. We’re out.

We made it, Reine purred. But we’re not done.

A sound high and tinny had hung in the air as they hugged the border line, like an angry swarm of bees. Piper had assumed it was insects at first, she still hadn’t grown used to them, but as it became louder, she knew it was more than that.

Reine’s mood changed color from a hopeful shade to something darker. Something’s not right.

The unease grew for another half hour as they ate up more ground. A writhing mass came over the horizon like a restless sun. Blue, red, green, gold. The four territories of Eden, rising and falling against each other as waves. Metallic thunder sounded at each shield clash.

Heart sinking, mind racing, Piper picked up speed. Are they fighting?

They’re certainly not having tea, Reine said.

Piper slowed again. How can we help? They didn’t have vitrum spheres to lob at the enemy, or gliders to avoid the touch of a blade. This was a hand-to-fera brawl for survival, brutal and with little tact above saving one’s skin.

She looked at their position. They were on the Eastern side, behind their lines. If they were to regroup with the North, they would have to backtrack and make a wide loop around the battle. Depending on how long that took, half a day could be wasted.

It didn’t look like the North was winning. The South held their own well enough in an individualized approach, but the Elben units were crippled when a team was broken up. The East-West focused a great deal of energy into picking them off one by one.

Company, Reine said.

Piper turned quickly to see two dogs running at them. They were muscled and armored, with jaws open and drool running down their sides. What would have been welcoming in a peaceful environment was lost in their deadly silence. Not a bark escaped from them.

She took her alea out, and unlocked it. The heavy weight of the mace settled in her hand.

“Stay back,” she said.

Reine growled in warning, then leapt at them. She tackled one dog and kicked its padded stomach with her back claws. The leather started to shred under her constant movement.

Piper swung at the other dog, missing it by inches. It circled her, teeth bared. The intelligent light in its eyes showed that its human was watching, and probably on their way.

She took the first step forward, and aimed the mace at the dog. It yelped when the mace hit bone, shattering its eerily silence.

The dog under Reine gave a wicked howl, then went limp. Somewhere a woman gave an ear-splitting cry. It made them both flinch.

Finish the other one, she told Piper.

Piper hovered over the injured fera. It stared at her, daring her like Tennyson had. Like Loy had.

I can’t, she thought. I can’t kill it.

Then I will. In a peach blur, Reine was on top of the dog. Her claws were a knife, breaking through the leather as easily as bread. Then the cry came again, a bond severed.

We need to move, Reine said. Before others come.

Piper backed away, her hands trembling as she twisted the pommel of the mace and had it shrink into its cube form.

This was their first step into the battle, and it was horrible.

This needs to end, Piper said.

Look. Reine’s ears pricked to a trumpet in the distance. Its sound was as smooth and clear as birdsong.

Piper tried to see what was past the roaring plains. I can’t see where it’s coming from.

It’s Trene, Reine said. They’re here.