1: Thundering Silence

None of the family were harmed. No one harmed. Not family. 

But more than family lived at home.

Why did Spider use so many different voices? Which was his? 

She’d never asked anyone to protect her. 

Why did it feel as though Spider thought otherwise?

Did everyone think she needed protecting?

Did she need protecting?

She was sick of asking that question.

Of all the bodyguards she’d had growing up, the one who had been most capable at her job was Emily. 

Emily, whether she’d thought so or not, was Alexandrie’s friend as much as her bodyguard, and Alexandrie rarely ran from friends. A young teenager, Alexa had known it wasn’t possible, (not really) to have an adult elf of unknown age as a friend - especially one on her father’s payroll. It had been a good diversion, though, from the emotions bodyguards could present, and so Alexa had accepted her protection with little complaint.

Ultimately, the child of Progress wanted desperately to be of use.  Being protected made her feel as useful as the locket about her neck - pretty to look at, but ultimately weighing things down. A Sinrou was supposed to get married and settle into running a household – be prepared to have children or follow another vocation useful to the Confederacy, but not… Nothing. And of course with Chevalier, well Chevalier was her friend. They protected each other.

Which was why she felt uncomfortable that Spider thought of himself as protecting her. He seemed almost… Jealous? And that was a whole new concept for Alexa, given they were tentative friends. How could he be jealous? Of what? How had things become so complicated? She had only been half listening as it was – so much happened that morning and Alexandrie hadn’t had the time to understand why some of it was as dire as Jasper made it out to be – and then there were other things she couldn't even decide how to consider. 

Who cared if Jasper's father was watching for them? They hadn't been stopped – just watched. Alexandrie didn't really believe their father would put out a bounty instead of using his power to have the guard search for them – the thought was absurd. And even then – why not just talk to him? 

But then, Spider seemed to enjoy running from things.

Not when fighting.

But other things.

She learned enough to know that.

So why not this? 

Well, the posters were down now…

And they weren't even relevant any more. The party had… They were not the same group of people. They had a child with them now. A child and a dragon. And they would likely be going into Orcish territory to look for Lucas Snr.

Into the mountains that were beautiful to look at, except for the bite behind the breeze, and the constant thundering of the waterfall… and La Chanson…

Six days? A child and a dragon. Chevalier. The household. Alexandrie did not believe in coincidences. Not any more. She didn't think her letters had been intercepted - she was also self-aware enough to know that she didn’t want to stop sending letters home.

But how did Cedric Edgewater know enough about where they were going to be here before them? She never wrote about where they would be going, only about where they were. Who breached security and why? How did they know? What did they want? What were they looking for? 

It hadn't been open politics or the emissary would have known about it – so not (openly) an Edgewater. 

Were they trying to bring her home? The desire to run home – even knowing they were safe and La Chanson’s task unfinished… Maman would have been so afraid. Grandmère? Non. Grandmère would have been furious. Alexa needed - desperately needed - to speak to her family – to someone in the household. She needed to know they were alright.

She had only the emissary’s word that her family was safe – only their word this had happened. For the first time, she cursed her importance – then cursed her family’s lack of importance. What if the person who attacked was Genofeva? Or connected… The person Spider had talked about, with the mask…

Everything will be alright. That’s what Emily would say if Alexa hurt herself, or couldn’t find the next bough to swing to. What needed to be done next? What could she do?

Get to La Chanson. Get to what it needed her to do. As close as she could, anyway. 

Her thoughts flickered through everything she'd heard and everything she knew about Edgewaters. If Lucas reverted to form, and “the form” was the way Ellinora behaved… Alexa had never met Cedric Edgewater, but he controlled a lot of her world. He worked closely enough with the leadership of the Progress Confederacy that she wondered: if he had been where he was now when Grandmère returned… what would he have done?

And if he’d known Alexa had the abilities Grandmère was rumoured to have when she returned…

And if he’d known the extent of those abilities…

And if he knew his son had them, or could have them…

It took more than a few moments, but the silence afforded by Spider’s sullen statement was deafening.

Spider was terrified of his father. He left home. Now his father was looking for them all, using someone who could visually identify them.

If La Chanson could be taken from her, why did she only fear it could be taken by Genofeva? If Lucas was capable of hearing and using it, why not Cedric Edgewater?

She wasn't the only one who had been called by an entity. That's what the woman in the temple said. But she was the descendent of someone known for successfully returning. Returning successfully. Someone who wouldn’t - couldn't - talk about her experience, or where her success had come from.

Someone who had embarrassed the Progress before.

And now her granddaughter was missing.

And so perhaps they’d broken into the home of the one person who knew where she’d gone, the direction, and why.

And thanks to Alexa’s own letters – who had gone with her.

A wave of exhaustion hit the adolescent half-elf.

They had reached the surface only hours ago. 

More than anything, Alexandrie did not want to hide, did not want to run, did not want to be hunted.

The freedom she’d felt in the tree had gone – to be replaced once more with the grim awareness that at least until she’d done what La Chanson wanted, the oppressive chill of the hunt would follow her.

But it had been such a beautiful sunrise.