It was very late when two young rebels sat on the lip of Tranquil Fog’s remote grotto, meditating on their impossible heist.

Floating below them in the blackness Pearl City glowed like a spired jellyfish on the evening tide.

And in the chamber behind them Fire Fade slept, absolutely still. Just beside her a single joss stick glowed, a thread of warm cinnamon fragrance curling up from its burning tip and drifting about the room.

Although this was indeed an extraordinary joss stick (with 50 times the life of ordinary incense) if you looked close you would see the burning tip gently and inevitably dissolving into a fine grey ash.

“She seems much improved,” Inkstone said, sotto voce.

“It’s the smoke.” Battle Axe tapped out a soft rhythm on the stone threshold with her foot. “Don’t you use deathbed incense where you’re from?”

He shook his head.

“Well, for now it keeps her peaceful and easy. But she will take her leave when it burns down.”

“You mean die?”

“Hmmph. You northerners are frank to a fault, I have to say.”

“And how many northerners do you know?” When he laughed it seemed to Battle Axe like the sound of a paper scroll, tightening.

She sucked in her cheeks. “One is enough for me.”

“I prefer plain-spoken. And I hope you will forgive me if I speak plain now. We have precious little time to pull this off, and precious few resources.”

Tata-tat-tat, her foot beat on resolutely. “We must remember the words of our great warrior-philosopher Oak Staff. But I’ll bet you don’t know Oak Staff because you’re a foreigner.”

“We have our own great warrior-philosopher Studded Shield. Who, I might add, neatly routed your Central Kingdom forces over a hundred times during his glorious career. But please tell me what this Oak Staff said that was so germane to our situation.”

“Well, first he said ‘Ignore the lofty words of the arrogant foreigner because all men die and he will simply fall from the greater height (and hurt more)’. But let us stick to the details that are germane to our situation. Oak Staff said, ‘Two warriors wielding a well-rehearsed plan can smash the shiftless horde’.”

“Very much, indeed, like the words of Studded Shield: ‘Two saplings can cut down the unsuspecting forest’.”

“Ha! Well, Oak Staff also said ‘Wave with the right, slap with the left’.”

“ ‘Feint east, strike west’.”

“FINE. All I am saying is – “

“Between the two of us there should be enough battlecraft to defeat a measly little caravan train.”

“Well…yes.”

But at the moment it surely didn’t feel that way. Battle Axe’s foot swung to a stop and the two would-be highway robbers sat in silence. Oak Staff didn’t have to deal with an elite brigade of caravan guards brandishing whips that could span The Paragon bank-to-bank.

A twist of sweet cinnamon smoke drifted over the threshold and they drew in a deep breath.

“Let’s list our assets, then,” Inkstone said.

“Lets.” Her foot started up again. “I have my amethyst, it should fetch maybe 30 silver pieces if we are lucky.”

“We have some invaluable inside information, as well; let’s add that to our list. First, we know there will be a southern princess amongst the traders.”

“And we know the caravan is watering in Hive Town tonight. That means we head for Fiddlehead Spring – the last stop before they reach the capital. The timing is good. If we take off with the first horse carts tomorrow morning we can get there a few hours before the train.”

“Well done. Next, my inimitable Studded Shield and your peerless Oak Staff would advise us to tally up our talents. My speed, for example.”

“My hand-to-hand combat skills,” Battle Axe said, but blushed pink when he looked at her skeptically. “FINE. I don’t have any talents, then. Except…amongst the rebels I have a rather good reputation as a storyteller.”

“Storyteller is useful. Finally, let’s not forget you clearly have connections down in the city. So I would say that between the two of us we have a full quiver of resources.”  Inkstone smiled then, an odd expression on his austere face. “The forest has no chance against a couple of saplings like us.”

Battle Axe mentally flicked through images of fiery southern princesses, purple amethysts set in silver, stables in the Lower City, Fiddlehead Spring’s finest inn The Porcelain Plate, and a goddess with legs like sleeting rain…

“I have an idea,” she said.

- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – -

Dearest Readers – it is a short episode this week. There are two reasons for this.

First: after reading through my notes (particularly some of the lovely details Battle Axe had shared in the course of our interviews) it seemed a shame to wind it up so quickly. Therefore I will write in some of the details I had originally planned to leave out. You will have to wait a little longer to learn how the story plays out – tragic or happy – with Fire Fade and her twin sister Battle Axe.

Second, I had less time for writing. Occasionally I am called upon to consult for a special club that follows with great interest the goings-on of the Western Paradise. I did a special presentation for them this week on ‘The Threshold’ – an abandoned temple complex due west of Pearl City, another legacy of the gods. Over time it has become a very, very sinister place indeed. But that is another story altogether.

Until next week!

//Oriole Burdee