“If I pass the test. Which I probably won’t,” Ember replied.
Hyrees lay down and slipped a paw over her back. “I’m pretty sure you will. But hey, if you don’t, you get to be free tomorrow. We could do whatever we wanted, just like the good old times.”
Ember shuddered and nudged his side playfully. “We’re not even two winters old yet. Don’t start taking about good old times, you big furball.”
He chuckled. “Well, my point still stands. No matter what happens tomorrow, we win.”
“Until you start asking yourself ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ Then you’ll find plenty of ways tomorrow could be terrible.”
Hyrees shoved his wet nose into her ear. “Hush,” he whispered. “Don’t ruin it.”
Ember jerked away. Her ear flicked as she tried to rid it of the damp spot inside. “Oh, come on. Don’t you try to pretend you haven’t already come up with at least ten worst-case-scenarios.”
Hyrees snorted. “Actually, I’ve discovered seventeen. How dare you underestimate me? Out of curiosity, how many have you thought of?”
“Hmm, let me count,” she said. Her mind wandered, trying to calculate every problem they could possibly face before the next sunset. A few extra ones popped up as she organized and counted. “Forty-three, I guess. If you count the ones that aren’t exactly probable, it’d be a lot more. Around a hundred. But hey, you never know what could happen. Let’s just say the odds of tomorrow being perfect are not in our favor.”
His ears drooped. “Oh. Wow, okay. So, should we try to go to sleep tonight? Or do you want to stay up snickering about nothing until the moon sets like we did last night?”
‘Oh, we did, didn’t we? Maybe that’s part of why I have such a hard time sleeping. I know at least part of that was your fault.’
“I’d like to get some sleep tonight. I’ll need to be as awake as I can be if I want to pass tomorrow,” she said. “So sleep well. And quietly, please. No snoring.”
Hyrees chuffed. He rested his head against her neck. “I’ll try. You too, Em.”
As he closed his eyes, a soft purr rumbled up his throat. Ember let a few tiny purrs escape her own, then she quieted down and tried to drift away. Yet her mind refused to be silent. She lay awake long after the night guards had taken up their posts, long after Hyrees began snoring, thinking about anything and everything.
She thought of worst-case scenarios, best-case scenarios, what secrets the near future might hold, and the true definition of nothingness. She even imagined several creative ways she could get Hyrees to stop snoring, and how she would most definitely scold him about it in the morning. She thought about whatever came to mind until sleep finally took over even her agitated sense of hearing and sent her into dreamless bliss.
Chapter 3
Ember
“So, are you planning on getting up any time soon?” Hyrees asked.
Ember groaned and forced her eyes open. Light flickered and blurred. The morning chill sent tiny shivers down her neck and back. On top of that, her shoulder still ached from the fight, aggravated even more by the night’s usual tossing and turning.
‘Too cold. Need more sleep. Pain. Can’t walk.’ She closed her eyes again and yawned. “No.”
“Come on, Em. It’s time to get going. The meeting is today, remember?”
Ember covered her face with her paws. She scrunched herself into a tighter ball of fluff. “Wonderful. Let me know how it went.”
Hyrees leaned toward her. His cold, wet nose touched her ear. He snorted.
‘Send a fox on you, Hyrees! What are you doing?’ Ember sprung up with enough force to go airborne for a moment. Her paws slipped as she landed. She scrabbled at the tree, trying to keep from falling, but her claws refused to find traction.
‘Oh tahg! What is going on? Just grab the tree!’
Her claws snagged on a rough patch of bark. She jerked to a stop. Her heart pounded in her throat as she cast a wary look at the ground beneath her. “Well, at least I’m awake now.”
Hyrees stared down at her, eyes wide. “Uhm, yeah, sorry about that. Wow, that was not the reaction I was expecting.”
She jumped to the ground. “I can tell. But I’d say this does not bode well for the rest of the day. When I came up with that list of what might go wrong, falling out of the Tree because you put your nose in my ear wasn’t even on it.”
‘Well, that’s certainly one way to wake up. So, the meeting, and the test, and a day off. Anything else going on I should be aware of?’ she wondered.
Ember looked around the Glade. Cats littered the cramped clearing, making her feel even more claustrophobic, so she backed up against the Tree.
‘Okay, yep, too many cats. I wish I could go back to sleep.’ She shook her head. ‘No. First off, you know you’ll never get back to sleep in the middle of all this noise. Second, you need to get ready. Commander Aspen will want to get the trial over with as soon as he can. And come on, you know you do too.’
She sucked in a deep breath of air, imagining it contained some form of confidence she could absorb. Morning sunlight poured through the trees around her. It bounced off the frost-covered rocks and abatis wall. Both fire pits had fresh wood, and several cats congregated around them. Smoke from the flames rose beyond the treetops and filtered the light into pristine rays. The brightness stabbed her pupils. Spots flickered and lingered in her vision, so she closed her eyes until they faded.
‘You know, Ember, you don’t have problems like this when you don’t oversleep. Or at least, not as many problems. So don’t oversleep. As if I can actually control when I wake up. I can’t even have dreams consistently. Though being able to wake up at exactly the right time would be nice.’
She shivered as another gust of wind cut across the Glade. Hyrees pounced out of the History Tree. As he landed, his paws caught on a root, and he tumbled to a stop beside her.
“And now I’m awake too,” he said, staggering to his feet. “Remind me why we sleep up there again? We could have a nice den on the ground, and you could come up here every morning and evening, or whenever you wanted to read.” He sat down and scratched an ear with his hind paw. “I mean, why not? You know, we wouldn’t have this falling out of trees every morning problem if we had a proper den. And there’d be actual shelter from things like rain, and snow, and bird poop. This whole traditional setup really makes no sense.”
Ember smiled. “You know, we could get a new sleeping place after the test, if I pass, because then I would be a real historian, and I wouldn’t have to study as much.”
“I don’t understand why Whitehaze isn’t the one who has to sleep in the tree. Why does it have to be us?”
Ember chuffed. “Because I like sleeping in the History Tree.”
Hyrees grumbled to himself. “That is a terrible explanation, but okay, as long as you’re happy.”
Ember shook herself off. Around the Glade, clayworkers busied themselves with setting out their work to sell for credits. She sucked in another deep breath as she watched them. Her chest was tight, but her mind was alert for the first time in days. There was a special lightness to the air that only came around during special occasions: days with especially exciting ceremonies, like the mid-winter apprentice initiation, or the seasonal meetings, where everyone got time off, extra food, played games, and held sparring competitions.
In addition to providing much-needed entertainment, the festivities also added another level of security between colonies. Without peace, there would be no point in holding a meeting, which would mean no day off or extra food for either colony. In the spring and fall, the Western high-ranks would travel to the East for a similar celebration.
The soft crunch of paws on leaves made Ember spin to face the noise. “Oh, hi, Aspen. We were just getting down.”
His tail twitched. “Good. Get yourself ready.”
A tiny shiver crept up her spine. “So, er, when am I supposed to be taking the test?”
“As soon as yo
u’re ready. Get some food, then meet me and Whitehaze at the cliffs. You will take your test there.”
Ember’s ears flattened. ‘The cliffs? What? Oh no.’ “Uhm, y-yes sir. I will. Thank you.”
He nodded once. “Do well.”
Aspen trotted away toward the southern entrance, where Whitehaze waited for him by the abatis. He stood up to join him, then they disappeared together into the forest.
Ember shuddered. She hated the cliffs, but not because they were dangerous. At one point, many mooncycles ago, she’d actually enjoyed standing near the edge and looking down at the Wolf Trail, which ran beneath it far below. It used to be a thrill to exist so close to the human-carrying machines following along it, especially since she’d always known she’d be safe.
However, one day, two days after Light had died in kitten birth, Hyrees had attempted to take his own life there. He was going to throw himself over the edge, hoping he could be with his mother again or at least stop the pain of losing her. She’d managed to find him in time to plead him out of it, but the place had been scarred with memories of fear and desperation.
“So . . . food?” Hyrees asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.
Ember forced a smile. “Yes. Let’s go get some.”
As she said it, the tightness in her chest formed a cold lump. Cliffs or not, if she failed today, she would have to wait six mooncycles for the summer meeting. If she passed, there was always the chance of failing during the meeting itself. Even easygoing Aspen wouldn’t tolerate mistakes permanently etched into the History Tree.
Hyrees led the way toward a group of cats crowding around the food storage, where a few of the hunters gave out morning rations. Songbird padded toward them, carrying an uncooked rabbit. She dropped it on the ground beside her daughter. Ember fought back a gag as the stench of long-dead flesh filled her nose.
“Good morning, Em. You’ve got a big day today, huh?” Songbird touched noses with Ember. She nodded once to Hyrees. “And good morning to you too, Hyrees.” She chuckled. “Did you sleep okay, Farlight?”
“Not that well, ma’am,” replied a voice behind them, “but I’ll be okay. It’s Dad I’m worried about. I don’t think he got almost any.”
Ember and Hyrees turned around in unison.
“Farlight! How long have you been standing there?” Hyrees asked.
“I followed you from the Tree. You know, practicing stealth. I think it worked.”
Hyrees chuffed. He groomed Farlight’s neck. “Yeah, it did. You know, if you weren’t going to be our next Commander, you would make a great full-time hunter. Or anything you wanted to be, really. You’re incredible at everything you do. Don’t you ever forget that.”
As he said it, he ruffled Farlight’s fur with a forepaw, making it stick up like a red bird’s crest.
“Hey!” Farlight batted him away, then bent around to straighten himself out. “Don’t touch my fur. You’ll make me look weird in front of the East. I need to make a good first impression. They’ve never met me as commander-in-training before.”
“Oh, you don’t need me to make you look weird, Far,” Hyrees said.
Farlight laughed. “What happened to me being incredible at everything?”
Hyrees swatted at his whiskers. “You still are, in your own special way. That doesn’t mean you aren’t weird.” He touched his nose to Farlight’s. “Don’t ever change, you little furball.”
“Oh, uhm,” Songbird muttered. She nudged the rabbit carcass to Ember’s paws. “You know, speaking of hunting, I caught this rabbit yesterday morning and saved it for you. It might not be fresh, but you know. It’s food.”
Ember licked Songbird’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re very welcome.” Songbird pulled away and smiled narrowly. “I, uh, I probably won’t be here when you get back from the test, because, you know, I have to work, but when I do get back, tell me how it went. Okay?”
Ember sighed. “Okay.”
“You’ll do fine, Ember. Don’t worry about it.”
‘Thanks, Mom. Your faith in my ability to succeed is definitely lowering the pressure I’ve been feeling to pass this thing.’
She stepped back. The shadow she’d been standing in didn’t. Sunlight exploded from the eastern horizon, flew between the trees, and hit her in the eyes.
“Ack!”
She ducked her head between her forelegs and closed her eyes as tightly as they would close. When she did, the sounds of the Glade amplified: muffled speech, kittens’ joyful shrieks, claws being sharpened on wood; it distracted her for a moment, dragging her attention away from the colorful spots dancing in her vision.
Songbird nudged her cheek. “No, no, calm down. It’s going to be okay,” she said. “It’s just a little test. You can handle it.”
Ember’s ears perked up. She looked up at her, careful to position herself away from the sunlight as embarrassed blue and grey stripes burned in her mind’s eye. “What? Oh! No. No, no, no, it’s not that. I’ve grown out of that. No more panics. It was just, uhm, yeah. I’m fine. I mean, no, I’m not exactly the, uh, ideal of self-confidence right now, but it wasn’t that that made me . . . You know what? I should probably get ready. I’ll go take this rabbit somewhere and eat. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Back when she was still a kitten, things like loud noises and bright lights had caused her to see-feel cyan and panic. When it happened, she sometimes hurt herself or others. Even the thought of losing control again made her uneasy.
Songbird gave her the half-squinty look everyone gave her when she stumbled over her own words, yet she smiled a moment later. “Okay, then. You already thanked me, but you are definitely welcome. Oh, hey, Farlight, I just remembered—Kivyress was looking for you earlier. Since you’ve both got a day away from training, I’m guessing she’ll want to chase you around the Pine Forest with needles again. Just remember to be back in time for the meeting. We can watch it together if I get back in time. I can even show you how to get your own opinions in there without breaking any rules.”
Farlight’s fluffy tail stuck straight up in the air. “Oh! Thanks, Mom—er, Songbird. I’d love that. For now, I think I’ll go find Kivy.”
Farlight trotted away. Not knowing his true mother never seemed to bother him. He’d spent the first few mooncycles of his life calling Songbird his mom, even though he’d almost always known she wasn’t. He only tried to correct himself when Hyrees was around.
“Wait! She’s on the other side of the Glade,” Songbird called. She shook her head. “He didn’t hear a word I meowed, did he? Aaand yep, he’s gone. Excuse me.”
Hyrees flattened his ears as she ran after the wayward kitten. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere quiet to eat.”
He picked up Ember’s rabbit, then without waiting for a reply, walked away. Ember sighed and followed. ‘Why can’t they just get along? Mom’s just trying to help. There’s no reason to get all defensive about it.’
She ran to catch up with him. The chill in the air sent a tiny shiver down her spine and made her fur raise.
‘Calm down, Em. Today is going to be good. You will make it good, Ember. Right? Right. Make this be a nice day to remember. Please.’
Hyrees set the rabbit down in the same place they’d eaten the night before. “Are you hungry now?”
An energy beyond her anxieties filled her body, charging it up for whatever the day might bring. Her tail thrashed like that of an excited wolf pup. “Yes, I’m hungry, and that rabbit is mine. I’m also nervous, er, still because of how important today may be for the entire rest of my life. But any day could be important, so is it really all that big of a deal? I mean maybe. It might not be. I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think we should eat,” he said.
“Oh. Right. Okay, that’s not what I wanted to know, but at least you’re being honest. I won’t be able to finish the whole thing anyway, so I guess we can share.”
They tore into the rabbit, dividing it more or le
ss evenly between them. As usual, Hyrees devoured the tendons, organs, and any other squishy or crunchy pieces Ember disliked. When they finished, Hyrees sat up and licked his muzzle a few times.
“I’m still hungry,” he said. “Heh, I’m pretty sure that rabbit was just meant to be for you, Emmy.”
“Hey, you haven’t actually gotten your rations yet. You might be able to sneak a little extra. You should clean your mouth a little more, though. And speaking of cleaning up, I need to hurry. I’ll have to stop by the Kivyress first. Not my sister, obviously; the other Kivyress. I’m thirsty.”
He cocked an ear and stood up. “I really, really shouldn’t.” He sighed. “But fox it, I want to. I’ll, um, I’ll see you later, Em. Fly through that test, and find me when you’re done.”
Ember chuckled emotionlessly. The colors in her head changed to a dull note of grey. “Yeah, sure. And you have fun with, er, that.”
He didn’t even hear her. Or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. As he raced away toward his second meal, the ever-present wind picked up speed, tousling her fur and beating against the backs of her ears. Ember shivered. Her throat burned, longing for hydration.
‘I wonder where Dad is. Shouldn’t he have shown up at some point to at least say good morning? Or good luck? Or good something? Maybe he’s gone out for a quick patrol. Okay, Ember, that doesn’t matter right now. No more procrastinating. Time to do this. You can go to the cliffs.’
As she loped out of the Glade, birds sang their usual morning songs. Branches and the needles of evergreens rustled together. Scents of wood, moss, and rotting plants all swirled around her nose, mixing with the occasional woodland creature. It only took a few moments for the whispering warble of the Kivyress to join the chorus. With every step forward, it grew louder.
She walked at an angle down the steep slopes of the ravine. The creek, wide and rushing, greeted her with a friendly trill.
‘Good morning to you, too.’
She lapped at the frigid water until her stomach felt bloated and her mouth became numb from the cold, then she headed up and out for the cliffs. She trembled as her stomach tightened and cramped. She tucked her tail and willed her body not to ruin anything. Faint, light green flickered in her mind. She coughed once, then twice.
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