“We are not that deep in the skirts, this isn’t uncharted territory.” Miranda reminded Ahzila, pointing out the marks on the walls. 

Himalayans often left three deep gashes in the direction of their barracks. Although in this part of the path, there were gashes seemingly everywhere. It was almost like the wall was growing stripes.

“I just figured the Himalayan engineers lived closer than this.” Ahzila sighed. “Are they really that mad? It smells like trash out here.”

“Unfortunately so.” Miranda said. “And when I suggested they move closer to us, their response was...rather hostile.”

“How hostile are we talking?”

Miranda wasn’t about to repeat what Romo said, about how the Himalayans calculated the exact end date of their entire civilization. Ahzila was so concerned about little squabbles like awkward adoptions and teaching exams. She wanted Ahzila to live in her comfortable little world a little longer, even if it was only one step removed from exile.

While Miranda’s compassion was hard to see, a part of her enjoyed Ahzila’s company, a reminder of the friendships and the hopes she used to have before she was the un-crowned Queen. Before all her dreams were crushed by Avurn’s thick boots.

A shrill whistle from behind them made the two princesses jump. It wasn't like the whistle of a train, instead it was the whistle of a man. Instinctively, Ahzila already had her little knife at her side.

“Hey, Vlumane! Hanshicock!” They both looked up to see a Sugarbird glide over and wrap itself around an old water vein above them. “I have a message for you.”

The Sugarbird had green eyes and a hooked beak, which meant he was a war bird, under-utilized as a messenger. 

Through powerful birds was about the only way to get Miranda to answer a message nowadays. Ahzila politely put her knife away with a snap, but did not break her glare with the bird.

So many people had tried to get Ahzila and Miranda an email account attached to the Himalayan internet and a cell phone. They had both refused both out of a distrust of technology and a distrust of human hubris.

Humans were controlling and meticulous creatures. They drew lines all over the globe, and connected every town and city by a bajillion digital threads. The human responsibility stretched infinitely in comparison to a cat, who’s governance only stretched to the ones who lived in Avurn.

Cats were not carrying Atlas’ globe on their shoulders, instead cats were carrying a little box, and the last thing cats needed was to be a stupid human and open it.

So instead of trusting technology and getting an email address, messenger birds found a lot of employment flying quickly through the high ceilings of North Sector. They didn’t mind the work for nearly any odd job, since Sugarbirds were always desperate for money to feed their insatiable appetites.

“Romo of the Himlayans, youknow that Romo, he says ‘She ran off into the Outskirts.’” the Sugarbird chirped. “Whatever that means.”

Ahzila covered her face in terror. Her gloves muffled her exasperated cry.

“You have got to be kidding! Does that little girl not have EYES? A sense of preservation!? What would make her go into the Outskirts!?”

“So in other words, Romo let her go and Misty ran to the only place left.” Miranda said, far more composed about this situation than Ahzila.

She was so worried about how she would get Misty from Romo, she hadn’t considered that getting Misty from the Outskirts would be a dozen times worse.

“If she ain’t a Potion Cat she won’t be alive long.” The Sugarbird cawed, fluffing his feathers to shake off a few drips from the pipes that slid down his tail. “But are you not cats? You two can just smell the kid out.”

There were only a few jobs that Sugarbirds did not take, of which was really anything to do with the Outskirts.

Miranda turned to Ahzila with a fold of her arms and Ahzila already knew what she was going to say before Miranda opened her mouth.

“You’re kidding” Ahzila hissed. “You want me to find her all the way out there!?”

“I’ve been away from the Center for too long already. Someone will have stabbed someone in the back by now, and some riot will happen, and we both know Patrick will be AWOL.”

“Oh! Did you hear about the dead guy who disappeared?” The bird suggested. “That’ll be a riot in like ten minutes.”

“..and now I have to deal with whatever that’s about…” Miranda sighed. “So yes, you need to do this alone. I was only here to help you with Romo and apparently we no longer need to negotiate. Don’t come back to Avurn without her, understood?”

“If we chase her, all we’ll do is push her deeper, she’ll run further into the Skirts, into the condemned areas, even. It’s not like she can read!” Ahzila hissed.

The bird looked between both of them with keen interest instead of jumping off his perch and going home. The few pipes leaking water did so in a syncopated rhythm. The bird danced from foot to foot to the beat.

“Do not come back to me unless you have the girl!” Miranda demanded again. “This is an order!”

“She didn’t know Avurn existed until a few hours ago! All you wanted was the boy who was with her, Brinkley. The one who knew that spell you wanted so badly," Ahzila told her with a wave of her arm, "well that bastard died in front of me, without telling us anything!”

Ahzila kicked a rock down the hall, and it echoed along with her voice.

“He didn’t tell her his secrets either!” Ahzila insisted, furious that Miranda still wouldn’t drop it. “She thought he was a stray just like her! You know that way she looked at us. She doesn’t know anything. She thought we were monsters!”

The bird chuckled quietly, because in his mind, all cats were absolutely monsters.

“She didn’t even know we were cats, she doesn’t even know what cats are!” Ahzila growled.

“Avi, Ahzila.” Miranda said with finality, using the feline farewell.

“I’m not as powerful as you are, Miranda!”

Miranda paused as her back was turned to Ahzila. “You'll survive." Miranda decided. "And, maybe you’ll see Patrick out there? Heard that's where he spends his time nowadays. See if you'll be the only person he'll actually lend a hand to.” 

They watched Miranda march back towards the center until her blue robe left the spotlight of the halogen bulbs. Ahzila was alone, excepting the animated Sugarbird who was resting his wings. She turned the other way to kick another rock, but stopped herself.

There was something behind her that was covered up by Miranda before.

“Hey bird, you come out here a lot?” Ahzila said, a shake to her voice as she beheld the horrible sight in front of her face.

“Sometimes, cat.” The bird dropped from the ceiling and plopped on her shoulder, his talons gently wrapping around her shoulder blade. “Why? Need directions? Can’t give you none. I swear the walls move on their own overnight.” The bird whispered.

“What’s that?” Ahzila said, pointing ahead of her.

The wall along their path had been scratched with deep gauges. What before looked like random scratches from age and decay suddenly took on a malicious aura.

Ahzila had never been declawed. Unlike other gentry who tried to have an air of kindness, no Vlumanes believed in removing their last defense. So she hazarded taking off her glove to feel the depth of ragged lines with the tips of her sharp nails. They fit nicely within the wedges.

What did this could not have been as thin as a knife, but something else sharp had treated the cement wall as if it were a block of cheddar cheese. Claws, perhaps? The marks of a mad man?

“You not seen this before?” The bird asked.

“No, well yes, I have a few times, I just...” She thought back to the times she had witnessed a similar tag, but never in this scale.

“...I figured it was a bunch of bored teens. But, who’s leaving graffiti like this out here?” She wondered. “Crazy Himalayans? They’re kinda too small and fat, right? But birds have claws, right? Is this bird stuff?”

“I don’t leave my art around where no one can see it.” The bird answered. “You do realize it’s a bunch of words, right?”

Ahzila looked back at the wall of scratches, unsure of what he meant.

“What language looks like that?” She asked.

“Back up a bit like me so you get a birds’ view and maybe you’ll see it better.”

With a flex to her legs, she sprung across the tracks to the path on the other side to get a better distance from the wall. Seeing it illuminated by the low light cast long shadows across it.

It was words like the bird had said. The words ‘Anava’ written over and over again, on top of itself, in agitated sweeps that were frenetic and deranged.

She stared so long, that a train passed in front of her, throwing a gush of hot air across both of them. Ahzila reflexively leaned up against the wall behind her.

“But ‘Anava’ doesn’t mean anything. Someone insane wrote this!” Ahzila hissed.

“Means something to them, hm? Ain’t it a spell?” The bird wondered.

“No.” Said Ahzila. “Well...not a finished one.”

“Don’t Himalayans say it sometimes? Like it’s some sort of enlightenment?” The bird whistled, preening the pin feathers on the back of his tail. The dander and loose feathers floated towards the ground in a spiral.

“They are a crazy bunch but…they couldn’t have done this.” Ahzila deduced.

“Hm. Well, have fun looking for your lost friend out here. I’d hate for her to run into whoever left THAT, if you know what I mean.”

And with that the bird left her shoulder, his speed accellerated with a glimmer of green light tracing from his feathers. Whatever was in front of her made even birds scared.

“What is going on out here?” She wondered, pulling out her knife and continuing down the dim path of Misty’s scent, illuminated by Sempiternity’s purple glow.