It was the equivalent of morning for her--the fog and dark had lifted and sheâd just woken up. The first nightâs sleep in a very long time and it was thanks to the songbird in the corner. Even though caged, it sang happily. It was possibly the most beautiful sound sheâd ever heard a bird make. She was so used to gulls and crows and ravens that perhaps she never realized that birds could sing so sweetly.
After Emily finished her morning routine, she fed the tiny thing. It was mostly brown on top but underneath was a gorgeous swath of cream and orange and brilliant blue. Even Adra, one of the few shopkeepers who sold songbirds, mourned the loss of such a pretty thing. âMy best nightingale,â sheâd sighed. âBut fifteen glimmers is a fair price.â
All of her hard work and even having to deal with Jack came down to spending most of her savings on this bird. She had a few shards and splinters left, so sheâd get by. But they had a meeting today. One that had taken Emily weeks to set up. If she missed it, sheâd cook the damn bird and ask Adra for a refund.
âCome along then, dear,â Emily placed a dark swath of cloth over the copper cage which sported a few streaks of vibrant green. âYou are very important for this trip. Arenât you lucky?â
Sheâd left St. Angus early enough, no one else would be up. She wanted no questions, knew that the old cage would creak in the silence. So, Emily and the bird left for the clock tower. Emily didnât mind walking in the early hours--such that they were--in Obsian. A few of the glowing insects were still flying about, flitting about in such a way that made her impending task a tad more bearable.
It wasnât that she felt nothing about this. These were desperate times and the boldest measures were often safest, more effective. From St. Angus to the clocktower, she walked the length of the river. Since yesterday, Emily had let the bird sing freely. It wasnât fair for her to control it. Not in this situation. The poor thing was quiet now, thinking it time to sleep. Emily frowned.
Eventually, they reached the clock tower. Emily exerted no effort jumping and then teleporting up and up and up. Every no and then, she had to rest so she found something to hold onto but with one hand, it was preferable to reach the top sooner rather than later. Taking the stairs was out of the question as she didnât trust the clockworkers and...whatever it was they did.
The top wasnât that much safer though. Sheâd been told there was a large enough opening on the south side that she could use to get inside. As soon as her foot stepped in, it fell through was rotting wood. Her heart leapt into her throat but she breathed in and out, yanked her foot back. She tip-toed around the dilapidated beams and ducked underneath low-hanging chains. The large clock face from the other side was just as broken as it was on the other side--perpetually wrong and moving either too fast or too slow.
âHey!â Emily hissed. âIâm here, just as we agreed.â She held up the cage but didnât remove the cloth. âWith the payment.â
From the shadows, a large cat slinked out. It sported a smart black and white coat, the colors evenly distributed fashionably. It wasnât fat but rather lean and muscled as if it often climbed the stairs to the top on a regular basis. It regarded her, cocking its head to one side.
âAn empress who fulfills her word,â it purred. âQuite unusual for a politician.â
They had met in the library some time back on one of her many trips. It refused to give her his name but had allowed her to call him Bodfree.Heâd caught her attention in the very beginning by addressing her as empress. When she was taken aback, heâd acted as if were a fact of the world. âYou carry yourself like one, speak like one, dress like one... fight like one whoâs had everything taken from her and will do anything to get it back.â
But this meeting was about Obsian.
âI suspect that the Scarlett Queen, Madame, and the Ferryman are more fickle with their subjects but I strive for wisdom and justice.â Even to her own ears, it sounded slightly heavy-handed but Bodfree seemed convinced.
He padded over to her and sat down. âWell, make yourself comfortable. Weâll be here for a moment.â His tail flicked and he perked up one ear, as if hearing something. But then he relaxed. âHave you thought about what I said?â
She had. âIf you can guarantee Wendyâs safety. Sheâs not like me--Iâm faster, stronger, less likely to wear down as quickly. Sheâs got her dolls but thatâs it.â Wendy had been her connection all along. It had been difficult to reconcile but not awful--being linked to Jack would have been awful.
Bodfree yawned. âYour connectionâs safety should be the last thing on your mind.â
True. This plan was madness incarnate. But she was still connected and Emily wanted no responsibility in hurting the woman. âBe that as it may, it is on my mind.â
âFine,â he yowled. âIâll make sure sheâs taken care of.â His eyes flitted towards the cage. âMay I see it?â His tail flicked wildly back and forth.
Emily rolled her eyes but uncovered the cage. The bird hopped up and down happily upon seeing her but froze when it heard Bodfree titter in excitement. His eyes glittered and his pupils became large.
âFirst, the map.â Emily held out one hand.
Bodfree sighed but complied, walking over to a pile of junk. He dug through and pulled out a piece of rolled parchment with his paw. Picking it up gingerly with his mouth and then dropping it in her hand. âYou are mad, your Imperial Majesty.â
Emily flipped the door to the cage open and the bird didnât dare move but Bodfree took great pleasure in spooking it to death. âThe prison has something I want but Iâm not going on there blind.â
Bodfree pawed at the bird some more, the nightingale shrieking in terror with its feathers fluffed in fright. âGoing after the skull of the librarian are you?â
âThat is the idea.â
âA empress regnant in prison,â marveled Bodfree. He hissed as the bird snapped at him. He pinned it down with claws extended. âGoing after a pile of bones.â
Emily left Bodfree to his meal.









