Ember flattened back her ears. “Er, no, no ma’am. Do you?”
Songbird chuffed and snuggled closer, still avoiding her more mechanical parts. “Of course not. I don’t know why, but I keep worrying this is all just a dream, and that if I let you out of my sight one more time, I’m going to lose you all over again. Hah, I think the only reason I even let you and Kivy leave this morning is because I was in too much of a shock to stop you.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t lose me by looking away. Unless I’m dreaming, this is all real,” Ember said. “Right, Dad?”
She turned her attention to Cloud, who sat a little farther away from the flames than everyone else. He hadn’t said much since returning from the rescue mission, even while they’d gathered firewood. He sighed, eyes narrow and jaw tight.
Ember’s heart sank. ‘What’s wrong with him? Well, his ears are all droopy, so that means he’s probably not happy. But why?’
She half-closed her eyes and grimaced, trying to mimic his expression to feel for what emotions it drew out in her. A soft, misty orange faded into existence, along with a sprinkling of darker orange.
“Why are you sad?” she asked. “Are you still blaming yourself? Because if you are, you really should stop. I’m okay. Unless you’re sad about Wren, in which case I should probably just be quiet.”
His expression changed. Ember raised her ears and widened her eyes to match it. Tiny flashes of light brown and all-too-familiar yellow followed. Her heartbeat quickened. Beneath the simulated colors, a flaming red burned bright, giving fuel to her ecstasy. “Are you surprised? Did I surprise you? And if I did, what did I do?”
His eyes narrowed again. “I didn’t think . . . never mind. No, no, I’m fine. Just thinking about things.”
“So you’re not sad?”
He hesitated. His tail twitched once. “I already told you; I’m fine.”
The grey came back, crushing her temporary excitement and clouding over all other emotion. ‘Fox it. I really thought, or at least hoped, that would work. Unless he’s lying. And the problem is, I don’t know which would be worse.’
Songbird shook her head. Ember couldn’t make out her expression, much less try to decipher its meaning. When she turned around, whatever it was or meant was gone. Something cold hit Ember on the back. She leaped to her paws, heart racing.
“Ack!” Songbird mewed.
She slammed into Ember’s shoulder. Ember, by instinct more than any kind of coordination, caught them both before they toppled into the fire. She let out a tiny sigh of relief.
“Kivyress!” Songbird mewed.
Ember glanced over to where Farlight sat, looking at anything but them. Kivyress was no longer beside him. She spun around. Her sister sat in a shadowy patch of ice sludge, quietly examining her paws. Songbird swatted a clump of snow at her.
Kivyress leaped backward as the lump collided with her side. She shook herself off and snorted. “Hey! What was that for?”
“You started it, you little furball,” Songbird replied.
“I was helping y’all. Neither of you seemed to know if you were awake or not, so I used the snow to show you.” Kivyress flicked another pawfull of snow in Songbird’s general direction. “You’re welcome.”
Songbird dropped into a fighting stance. “Oh no, I’m getting you for that.”
Kivyress pounced forward. “Only if you can catch me first!”
‘Catch. Capture. Pictures?’
“Wait!” Ember said, jumping to her paws. Kivyress’s mews reminded her of yet another thing her ETAg was capable of. “Could you all get together on the other side of the fire and look happy? I’m going to take a picture. Pictures are really interesting because they capture single moments in time, and they let you look at those moments again anytime you want. I want to keep right now with me, so everyone get over there and smile.”
After some moving around and a minute or two of coaxing Cloud, Ember ran back to her spot by the fire to take the photo. It was perfect—her family through and through. Everyone was smiling except Cloud, whose expression had gone back to being tight and distant.
Ember smiled faintly as the image vanished from her head. She showed them the photo on the screen of her ETAg. As they clamored around her to look, she sent it to Michelle with a thought message: ‘I made it back!’
A few moments later, Michelle responded with a message of her own: ‘I told you everything would be okay. Be careful with that fire, sweetie.’
‘I will. Thanks again,’ Ember sent in reply.
‘You’re very welcome. Take care!’
Ember closed her eyes and exhaled softly. As she did, her mind drifted back to Cloud. ‘What’s wrong, Dad? Am I still not good enough? Are you worried about what the East might do? I wish I could see your colors. Your real colors.’
She shook her head, trying to chase the thoughts away to go back to being happy. When everyone returned to their original places by flames, she swatted a lump of melted ice goo at Songbird. “Now to get back to flinging snow at each other,” she mewed.
“Hey, I wasn’t ready,” Songbird said.
Kivyress continued her dash around the fire. She batted another pawful of snow against her mother’s side.
“You!” Songbird mock-growled. She leaped into a stand and chased after her daughter. “Okay, that’s it. This is war!” Her eyes widened as everyone winced. She stopped and lowered her head. “Wait, never mind.”
Kivyress slowed to a walk and meandered back to Farlight’s side. Ember shifted her attention onto the fire.
“I ruined it, didn’t I?” Songbird asked. She returned to her place beside Ember.
No one replied.
‘Can’t say that anymore,’ Ember thought. ‘At least not while playing. So much for our winter snow battle. But there will be other snows. As long as we live to see them, we can do it again the right way. With fresh snow.’
The crackling of the flames and howling of the wind took over, preventing the silence from becoming absolute. Ember pinned back her ears. Somewhere behind her, an icicle broke off of a tree. It hit a patch of frozen ground and shattered. She leaned closer to the fire.
“You said that thing on your neck can teach you anything, didn’t you?” Cloud asked.
Ember straightened herself up. “Er, yeah, yes sir. Almost anything. I don’t think it can tell us how to fly. Why?”
“Is this really the time?” Songbird said.
“I’m just asking her,” he said. “There’s this project I’ve been working on for the past few days and I was wondering if there’s a better way to make it work.”
“Oh, yes, Kivyress told me. You’re trying to make guard pieces to protect us from bites, right? That’s a great idea, but I am definitely sure there’s a better way to make it than with bark.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“That I consult my Thai,” she replied.
She closed her eyes and dove into the vast expanse of knowledge that was the internet. After some virtual digging around, she discovered human armor, which they made with everything from metal to what appeared to be simply thick fabric. After some additional digging, she discovered some humans used large animal hides, such as deerskin, to make their armor.
‘That. There. That will work. It’s easy to get, and something we, with our pathetic little paws, can work with. Keep that tab for me, Thai. I’m gonna need it again.’
[Will do, Ember.]
“Deerskin?” Cloud asked after she explained her findings. “But Ember, we have to bite through deerskin to kill a deer. It’s not thick or strong enough to stop fangs when the deer is attached to it. What makes us strapping the skins to ourselves any different?”
“Layers, Dad. And I think we’re supposed to do something to the skin to make it stronger. I don’t think the humans would use it to protect themselves if it didn’t work. We can at least give it a try.”
He nodded. “I don’t know if humans have fangs or not, but fair enough. Would y
ou be interested in trying to put some together tomorrow?”
Ember smiled. The grey in her head morphed into a misty orange—a misty orange brighter than sadness and as welcoming as a spring breeze. Hope. “I don’t have anything else planned.”
Cloud chuffed. “So what do you say, Commander Farlight? Am I allowed to work with my daughter tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t know. What if she wants to practice her clawmarks? The next meeting is gonna be a fun one to document,” Farlight replied.
“Actually, I can’t clawmark anymore. Sorry, I forgot to mention it. Wait, Whitehaze hasn’t found a new apprentice yet? I thought for sure there’d be someone,” Ember said.
Hyrees leaned back. “Hey, I thought we were done with surprises. You not clawmarking? Since when has this been a thing?”
“Since I woke up with robot legs. I have claws, but supposedly I’ll damage them if I try to do any carving with them. So I won’t. But hey, I have my own version of the History Tree inside me right now.” Her mind drifted back the documentary. As much as learning the truth had hurt, knowing the whole story had given her a new, slightly more real version of reality to stand on. “It’s better than the one in the Glade.”
“So did the humans just go through and give you a list of things you can’t do now?” he asked.
She tilted her head. Indigo swirled behind her eyes. “Not exactly. But that’s not how it worked. It didn’t happen all at once, and not every human helped me. Just three.” A picture of Lake formed. She stared helplessly as her image got smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely, leaving the young human once again stranded at school. “Maybe four, but I’m not sure she counts. She mostly just avoided me.”
“Oh.”
‘Maybe you should have tried to talk to her more,’ Ember thought. ‘Something was definitely bothering her and Michelle didn’t seem concerned. Maybe she needed someone to talk to. But then again, Michelle is her mom. Mothers always seem to know what their kittens need, so maybe Lake was just being huffy. Or maybe I was mistaken again and everything is fine. Human faces are different from our faces, so it’s possible that was—’
“So you keep saying the History Tree is wrong,” Hyrees said, bringing her into the present. “I thought it was supposed to be the pinnacle of perfection, the all-knowing, on which we should base our entire existence. What happened to that?”
The wind slowed to a gentle, barely audible breeze. The fire snapped and the wood shifted, creating an outburst of colorful sparks. Ember winced at the sudden sounds and movements. Instinct made her hunch forward. Half of her wanted to be closer to Hyrees, and half of her wanted to be closer to Songbird, yet neither of them wanted to be closer to each other. So she leaned closer to the same flames that had startled her.
“Ember,” Cloud said.
She sat bolt upright. “Hmm? Sir?”
“Hyrees asked you a question.”
Ember leaned forward again, pinned back her ears, and squinted her eyes to match him. An oily half-rainbow of metallic blues, greens and purples appeared, shifting and shimmering faintly in her mind’s eye.
‘He’s annoyed? Why is he annoyed? I was about to answer when you interrupted. Unless my colors are different from yours. Then I might be completely off. Which is possible.’
“Ember, please. Stop making faces, and answer. I don’t want to have to keep repeating myself.”
“Sorry,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m not making faces though, I’m just changing the one I’ve got.” Their silence made her face burn. “I was trying to figure out what you meant by the expressions you were making. I’m pretty sure you’re annoyed, and I’m sorry for probably causing it, but did it work this time? Please let me know. I really want to be able to understand you and everyone else. But I can’t unless you’re willing to help me understand. I’m not like you. I can’t do it automatically. I need help.”
Everyone stared at her. Ember shrunk back. She closed her eyes, willing herself to become invisible. ‘Fire. Fire. Focus on fire. You like fire, remember? Keeps us warm and gives us light. Why does silence always come at the wrong time? What are they thinking right now? Oh, I hate this kind of quiet.’
Cloud rubbed his right forepaw, the one to Ember’s left, against his head, ruffling and grooming his fur.
‘Does he have a headache? Did I give him one? What am I doing wrong? What if I—no, Ember. Don’t call Matthew again. This isn’t an emergency like last time. You can figure it out yourself.’
“Ember,” Cloud said. “Please just stop. I don’t need you to understand. I don’t need you to know what I’m feeling. Feelings are not important. What I need you to do is listen, and to answer when something is asked of you.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Hyrees mewed. “It was just a question. She doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to.”
“I want to answer; you all just keep interrupting me,” she said. Her half-tail twitched as her own oily blues, greens, and purples appeared. “What happened is I found out the truth. And no, they didn’t tell me. If they had, they might have lied, and I wouldn’t keep bringing it up because I wouldn’t know what to believe.”
Cloud’s tail thrashed. “Ah—”
Songbird held up a paw, silencing him. “You said you’ve found the truth, but we want to know what this truth is.”
Ember cocked her head. ‘How do you do that, Mom? How did you get all that from him saying “ah”? Is that really what he wants to know?’
“Er, okay,” Ember said. “Well, for one, the History Tree doesn’t give the whole truth, making Dark seem better than he actually was. He was a really brave cat, but he was also selfish in some ways. There were dogs and rats in ARC who were just as smart as we are, and he left them to die. And they died.”
“Arc?” Farlight asked. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but what is that? Something tells me you aren’t talking about circles.”
Ember sighed, then started over, beginning with when she’d first woken up at the Center. She told them about Yegor, and Hye, and Michelle, and how Michelle had helped her set up Thai. Then she explained the meaning behind Thai’s name, and how nice Michelle’s little family was, but decided to skip over the parts about autism and thinking differently.
‘Wouldn’t do any good anyway. At least not coming from me. I still don’t know what I’m talking about and they still think everyone thinks like them. Or at least Dad does, and there’s no way they’d trust Matthew if I got him to try to explain why I’m all messed up. And no one here except Kivy would really be able to back me up, but no one will listen to her anyway. Sorry, Kivy, but you know it’s true.’
“This is all very, very interesting,” Hyrees said when she finished. “But what does it have to do with this arc thing or the History Tree being wrong? Or even how you found out about all this in the first place.”
Her tail twitched again. More indigo appeared, this time mixed with grey and silver. “I was getting to that. Be patient. This is all connected. I’ve told you about the good side of humans, and now I’m going to show you the bad side.”
Hyrees, Cloud and Songbird all jumped to their paws in unison. Farlight sat up straight as a pine with his ears perked forward, and Kivyress’s pupils widened. Ember couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared, but knowing Kivyress, excitement seemed more likely.
Cloud dropped into a fighting stance. “Whatever you’re about to do, don’t,” he said. “We do not need to see these humans of yours, and we especially don’t need to see the bad ones. Keep them away from here.”
Bright yellows came and replaced most of the purples for a moment. Then they came back, forming a grey-purple-yellow spiral in her head. It made her dizzy to internally look at, so she tried to keep her focus on the fire. “B-but I wasn’t going to show you any real ones. Just images from my tag. Like I did with the snowflake. Remember? I wanted to show you what I saw.”
Cloud straightened himself up. “Oh. And you’re sure that wha
tever you’re about to do won’t let them know where we are?”
The yellows faded out, but the purples remained, gaining a hint of drab, misty orange. “Yeeaaahh, yes sir. I’m not sure what you think I’m about to do, but do you really think I’d do anything to put us in danger? Dad . . . Don’t any of you trust me? I’m not a fluffhead. I’m not a kitten. I know what danger is, and I know how to avoid it. I’m not going to get everyone killed.”
“I trust you, Ember,” Kivyress mewed.
“I do too,” Farlight said. “But if any of you three say it, you’d be lying—both to her, and possibly to yourselves—so don’t even try. If you trusted her, you wouldn’t have reacted like that when she mentioned humans.”
‘Farlight, I can’t decide if I should thank you or swat at you. But then again, it’s better to know the truth. So I guess that means thank you, but why don’t they trust me? Wait.’ She closed her eyes and watched as misty oranges swept over the spiral. ‘They’ve never trusted me. They still see me as a kitten. They think I can’t understand, don’t they? Don’t think I can take care of myself. The worst part is, what if they’re right? I can’t hunt. And every time I try to be good, or try to be some kind of hero, I almost get killed. Does that mean Eclan was right too? Do all heroes die young?’
Hyrees sat down, letting his head droop almost to his paws. “Sorry, Em. I guess, with everything that’s happened, I’m still too worried to think straight. But I do trust you.”
Dark, greenish-gold speckled the orange. Ember sighed and let her gaze wander up to the treetops. The lack of leaves made the first evening stars more visible. They glistened like baby suns. Though, thanks to Thai, she knew they were so much bigger than even the sun she’d once thought of as their mother. “Don’t lie, Hyrees. You know I don’t like yellow-green.”
“But—”
“No, just watch. Thai, play The Animals Of ARC.”
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