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Beneath the Wildlands’ Hill, Commandant Marabunta sensed insistent vibrations in her sleep, and woke to bits of soil from the dormitory’s domed ceiling pelting onto her head.
“What the…?” The source was localized, stationary, and relatively small. Nothing to worry about, she concluded, but too annoying to ignore. Rousting herself from the comfort of her bed, she never even considered sending a scout.
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Lying awake beneath the shimmering sky long after Darwin’s family had retreated to the shadowy corners of their web, Teddy wasn’t sure he was still glad his father had gone to the war, even just overnight. It was okay for Trevor and Barry — they were Knights, not dads. They didn’t have anybody counting on them for hugs and stories and tucking in at bedtime.
I hope Daddy didn’t think he wouldn’t be brave if he stayed home, Teddy fretted to himself. I hope he knows he’s the bravest Dad in Bog — in the whole world!
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Teddy had given up trying to fly as soon as Janesse vanished beyond the trees. “Daddy, is Prince Elliot going to the war?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Why?”
“King Arnie needs him there.”
“Is he scared?”
“Probably. At least a little.”
Darwin stopped jumping and scrunched his face in puzzlement. “He can’t be scared. My mom says everybody in the war is brave.”
“She’s right,” Randall confirmed. “But she knows wars are scary and everyone who goes is scared but they go anyway. That’s how she knows they’re brave.”
“Why would they go if they’re scared?” his son asked. “They might get hurt.”
“They might get dead, too,” Darwin said gleefully, “but everybody would know they were cowards if they didn’t go.”
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“What do you mean, ‘the Queen is gone’?” Sam’s cry traveled farther than she’d intended.
“She’s not in the Hiverarchy. She’s gone,” the elderly councillor repeated.
Unable to imagine why her mother would leave the security of home, Sam wanted answers. “When did she leave? Where did she go?”
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Queen Madalena bided her time till the next night that Andre was on guard duty at the entrance. When he saw her, he stiffened to attention.
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The days that followed were full. Clifton and Sam spent their mornings training stinging Fliers, and their afternoons being trained by Bog’s Knights and Fen’s Aero Squadrons in other forms of combat, weaponry, and tactics. After dinner, they met with other recruits who had created new moves, and worked into the night perfecting those skills so they could teach them the next morning.
The Sergeant joined them for breakfast each day.
“You’ve done good work,” he said between bites at the end of the week. “These green volunteers have become a real army. I’ll be proud to serve with all of you when the call comes, but for now, the trainers from Bog and Fen are going home. You’ll be working with the Freelands Forces, keeping them sharp, ready for what’s ahead.”
“Thanks, Sarge. We couldn’t have done it without you,” Clifton said. “It was genius to tap Sam’s gifts.”
“A sign of leadership is recognizing leadership in others. I suspect Killer’s even better at that than I am,” the Sergeant allowed.
“What makes you think so, Sarge?” Sam asked.
“You saw it in Clif, didn’t you?” he laughed.
Clifton felt the compliment and took the ribbing with a grin.
Kýrios the Most Revered, Queen Madalena’s eldest councillor, landed on the grass beside them.
Still smiling, Sam greeted him. “Kýrios! What brings you to the Meadow?”
Glaring at the three of them in turn to stop on Sam’s face, he said, “The Queen is gone.”
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“I’m pleased you’ll stay with us, Recruit,” the Ambassador said when Sam and Clifton reported back at dusk. Smiling, he added, “Be sure to let Sergeant Stubbs know before you retire or he won’t be able to sleep.”
~~~
The sergeant rousted them out of bed long before dawn, shouting, “Eyes open! Up and out! Survivors get breakfast at sunrise.”
“But how are we supposed to fight if we haven’t eaten first?” asked a cottontail named Jared, one of the plumper trainees.
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The few times Clifton had seen his aunt Lilian’s Innermost Chamber, it had been packed with advisors and attendants, and vibrating with activity. He wasn’t sure she had any place this spacious and quiet in the Hive back home that she could call her own.
Queen Madalena stood apart, warm but aloof. “Samantha tells me you’re from Fen, and Lilian’s nephew. How is she?”
“You know my aunt? I mean, she’s well, thank you. I… I’m just surprised you know her. Sam… Samantha didn’t mention the Hiverarchy had any contact with Fen.”
“We don’t,” Sam stated, fixing her mother with a stare that demanded an explanation.
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“Wait out here, Clifton. Let me talk to her first. And you —” Sam glowered at her half-brother, “you better hope she doesn’t make me stay here, because you aren’t gonna like me if I have to stay here.”
“What makes you think I like you anyway?” Andre retorted, but Clifton saw worry and a hint of doubt in his eyes as he left them at the entrance to the Innermost Chamber.
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Sunrise had arrived before night was done sleeping, and, although they were excited now, most of the recruits had shown up for roll call bleary-eyed and yawning. Not Sam. She’d been awake and ready before the last star faded.
Happy to be assigned to the same Stinging Fliers group as Queen Madalena’s daughter, Clifton thought he’d been eager to start training; Sam was rabid to begin. Clifton was pleased to be the victor in nine out of twelve partner exercises with twelve different partners; Sam never lost.
By mid-morning, their training officer, Sergeant Stubbs from Fen’s Hive Elite, asked her to help him demonstrate each new maneuver; by noon she was creating her own techniques.
Taking their lunch break together, Clifton and Sam fell into a discussion about the Ultimate Sacrifice. The Alliance army’s official policy discouraged suicide attacks unless absolutely necessary. Clifton thought this was eminently reasonable.
“But what’s the point of having a stinger if you aren’t going to use it?” Sam’s frustration mounted with each word.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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