Sounds from the world outside leaked in through the thin walls of Farly’s office. The hum of voices, wheels, and footsteps acted as Misty's anchor to the present. This moment where Brinkley was gone, and she was alone, and she was now left aimless in a doctor’s office that smelled strongly of bird dander.

“Hmm...” Farly mused, absently picking at his wing feathers with his beak. “Earth cats grow differently, Ahzila. She thinks she’s middle aged, but now she gets to be a child all over again.”

“Shut up, would you? Gonna freak her out!” Ahzila hissed, leaning down towards Misty in an attempt to calm down the small alley-cat. Farley went back to Brinkley, making a few last waves with his wings, although from his face it seemed to be an earnest endeavor.

After an awkward moment of squatting, Ahzila decided to instead sit cross-legged on the ground to be at her level. It was very clear that the spicy calico never had children.

“Been a while since I’ve been down here, huh.” She muttered, looking around at the ceiling covered in bird perches, a little bit of nostalgia in her voice. “Not since before I got my robe, just a little younger than you.”

She smiled at Misty, which took the alleycat by surprise. Part of Misty wanted to swipe it from her face, but was too spellbound by tears to attack, instead all she wanted to do was flee.

“Now listen, Misty...it was the best magic that I…”

But Misty had already run out the door, her feet flying down the hall and back towards the station.

“You gonna stop her?” Farly asked.

Ahzila was fully fed up with everything. She missed her evaluation test, she missed her chance for a new job, she missed out on gaining back control of her life. On top of that the boy was dead, and the little girl was lost.

Ultimately, chasing after Misty would only put the stray in Miranda’s way, which was the farthest thing from a favor that Ahzila could think of.

“...she’s old enough to handle it herself.” Ahzila said, as she dropped the gold coins on the counter before she was also out the door.

***

The tears continued to flood her eyes, and all Misty wanted to do was step back out into the rain so she could mask her tears under the torrential clouds. 

But her nose was so clogged by snot she could barely smell her way back. Every hall she galloped through only opened to another maze of rooms attached to even more halls.

Misty changed her tactic, choosing to run towards wherever the light was brightest in order to find the exit. Yet the brightest lights in Avurn lead her into a large courtyard with vivid artificial lights gleaming in the center of it’s ceiling.

There wasn’t sky in this room at all, just false windows. Misty stepped under it’s warmth and saw the rims of light fixings above her that were placed decoratively between silver gilded sheets. 

At the very least, it smelled like seafood and treats here, a comfort which helped her compose herself.

“Interested in a sample?” Said one of the vendors, who had a tray of little bits of meat on toothpicks.

Misty took in the little shop next to her who sold things out of a portable stall on 4 wheels. The gray cat behind it had a friendly enough face, although it was stacked so high on a tall skeletal frame. She jumped to the counter to be closer to his height and tried to hold back her tears so she could appear like a normal adult.

“Where is the exit?” she asked him. “Can you tell me? I’m lost.”

“Sorry?” He asked in return.

“The exit.” She asked again.

“The train station? It’s out that way, go South.” The man told her politely, snacking on one of his little tasters. It smelled like smoked salmon. “You’re in the Center. But if you’ve lost your parents you should tell the cops, you can see em with the blue hats over there.”

“No I’m fine, I’m an adult.” She snapped. He looked up and down at her with newfound eyes.

“Wow, you have had a day.” he whistled. “I’m sorry to hear that. Spent a fortune on my robe, can’t imagine what I’d do if it got a scratch and it stopped working.”

Misty glanced at the simple long shift he wore that went past his knees. Everyone else in this kingdom also had a similar shift underneath their coats and tunics. Apparently the clothes were more function than they were fashion.

“Don’t blame you for crying, I’d be a wreck! Hey, have yourself a coffee candy, on me, that’s just awful!” He said, trying his best to console her.

The man dropped a candy on the table which smelled nothing like coffee. So she instead changed the subject.

“Can you just direct me outside, please?” Misty asked him. “I just want to go outside. There’s like...no air here to breathe.”

“I don’t understand.” The vendor said to her.

“I want to go outside.” She asked again, pointing up.

“...You are outside.” He said, pointing up as well. “Right now.”

“We’re clearly in a huge auditorium.”

“...Yes.” Said the vendor, growing a little bit anxious. “If you want to go to the train station just go to the South entrance. You’re in the Center right now—the Center of North sector. The train is at the Southern part. Are you new here?”

The courtyard was large enough to fit several parks and attempts were made to fill it with plants and common areas. But, that didn’t mask the feeling of recycled air. She missed the wind, she missed the warmth of the sun, and she missed that humid smell of oil and leaves after the fall of rain.

“Ok, let me be stupidly clear.” Misty said, her temper rising. “I need fresh air.”

“Doesn’t get fresher than a Center.” he smiled, scratching the back of his head. “My, this is a weird conversation, don’t you think?”

“No! I need to go outside!”

“You are outside!” He insisted again, pointing at potted trees that sat next to little benches. “Can’t be more outside than right now!”

“That! Is not a sun!” She pointed at the lights in the ceiling far above them, electrified and warm, casting it’s artificial beams down on them.

“I uh...isn’t sun an Earth thing?” He asked hesitantly. His eyes dilated as he realized what she actually was. “Oh damn, you’re new. Like NEW, new.”

Misty was also having a horrible realization, and it hit her straight in the throat.

“The sun.” She said. “The...sky?”

“Yeah, that’s an Earth thing.” Answered the vendor bluntly as he organized some of his things. “Never seen it myself. I read about it in a book a few times.”

“There is no sky.” She muttered rhetorically, jumping off of the vendor’s stall and walking slowly backwards from the cart. “There is no sky.”

“Who needs it?” He smiled. “Hey...are you an Earth cat? I thought you guys can’t speak.”

Ahzila and Miranda had said as much in the parking lot; That earth cats were stupid, apparently. But it wasn’t her being stupid that kept her from talking.

Kingdom cats knew about Laquems, Misty heard Ahzila mention them a few times. But Avurn didn’t know them as the creatures that stole you away and killed your humans if you spoke. Clearly none of them really feared their own voice the same way she did.

“What’s above the light then?” She asked him, attempting to make a mental map of how this universe was laid out. “Above it?”

They both looked up at the ornate metallic ceiling, decorated like a 20’s speakeasy.

“Just more walls.” He offered.

“And behind that?”

“Walls.” he said again. “It’s all walls.”

“No it isn’t, space is out there.”

“Again, space is an Earth thing.” He said simply, as if he had never questioned it in his life.

“I…” she felt her tongue lose control so she instead galloped towards the train station. “There is no sky!?”

She felt the fur along her back bristle as she sprinted down the halls and remembered Brinkley’s words in her mind:

“Get a life without the sky, Fang.”

Every time he had said those things to her. Every time he lost his gaze on the horizon. Every time he cursed the sun.

Brinkley had known everything the entire time, even her entire life.

***

“He’s not available.” Said Peters Vlumane, the moment he saw Miranda’s pale face in the crack of his office door. She had a demanding gaze that always mad him feel like she was 3 feet taller than him, although she was actually quite short. “You’ll have to come back later, Miss Hanshicock.”

“Peters, please.” Miranda told him, letting herself inside despite not making any appointment with the busy man. “I’m not here for Patrick.”

“I thought I was sort of like your Cyrano De Berjerac!” The striped orange tabby smiled, tipping his dapper bowler cap. “My tabloid being the only thing that can link your lost connection. Isn’t that why you both try to get in my paper so often?”

The Vlumane family had a reputation. Ever since the time of the Achart, it was Vlumanes who managed the gentry’s dirty work. Unlike the refined gentry like Miranda, Vlumanes lurked behind shadows and carried daggers in their coats.

Although it had been a very long time since Peters was formally trained by his father to be an assassin, his weapons were still polished and ready. He was just itching for a reason to use them on her. What a wonder that Miranda would just step into his office without a friend or a witness to protect her.

But Miranda did not seem to react to Peters’ jab at Patrick Wu, which was surprising. Usually the subject of Patrick made her leave the room. Instead, she made herself comfortable in the hornets nest.

“Not today. I need you to not publish something for me.” Miranda sat down at the seat opposite Peter’s desk, admiring the amount of post-its that covered every single surface from the tables to the floor lamps.

Each post-it note had ideas for potential articles, some of which were only drawings, others of which were threaded to each other with red string. His office walls were like a firework of neon colors.

Cats could use computers to organize their thoughts, but it wasn’t that common outside of Himalayans. Peters preferred a type-writer and pen, giving the typesetting of his tabloid to the younger generation running the printing house outside of the office.

The sound of the printers undulated with the steady spin of tin drums, printing off the sensationalist nonsense that gave Peters enough power to stand up to even Miranda Hanshicock.

Nearly a decade ago, Peters and his partner, Snickerdoodle, fired up their printing press. It's indie publications were so influential, they became the impetus that shifted power from the Laquem rule to the Hanshicock family.

Miranda Hanshicock had a lot to thank Peters for, but she was well aware that same printing press could easily dislodge her family from her pillar of power. With one miss-step, they would be back into a state of revolt like it was in her youth.

As for Peters himself, he had been in the 9 Chosen since Miranda was a child. 

While that was not enough magic to beat Miranda in a duel since she was in the 9 as well, he could beat a majority of the people in Avurn who mattered, and that was enough.

“Why Miranda,” Peters Vlumane answered gravely. “I want nothing more than to open the floodgates and watch you drown, even if that means Avurn drowns with you.”