Marcel returned with three capes that all delighted Freya. Only one was good enough for her mother and he promised to match the fabric with her newest dress.

Their business concluded, her mother paid the fox and they left for their walk on the common area above Yellowrock. They climbed the five floors to reach an exit close to the center of the plateau. The exit led directly to the first impressive manor of the plateau, that of the Minister of War.

As they left the entrance, Freya was surprised by the sheer amount of birds that were milling about near temporary stalls on the above-ground market. Not far from the shadow of that manor, these temporary buildings mostly sold food that the different birds of the Aviary preferred. Since they did not need to climb up the steps, the birds were a good source of income for the vendors. Most of the vendors were moles or mice here but she did see a few otters and one older bird selling sunflower seeds.

The Aviary Minister of War had a lofty manor with many vertical floors on top of Yellowrock proper. The birds tended to fly to the higher levels and work their ways down during events. Freya had seen a bird ceremony once before the ball. Most of the Aviary worked in the military; they always wore their campaign clothing or their ceremonial garb, it was few and far between that she would see otherwise. She expected that they would spit shine their uniforms during the season to give a better impression.

Freya appreciated a good-looking uniform, but the robins, sparrows, bluejays, and golden-cheeked warblers all seemed to be classy. When the Aviary came to career day they were only looking for support roles for their air operations. Freya decided long ago that she wanted to be supported, not the other way around.

“There seems to be a lot of sparrows around,” Freya told her mother as they navigated through the market. “I didn’t expect that.”

Indeed for each robin or golden-cheeked warbler, she saw there was at least one sparrow. The brown birds were all over the market.

“I believe that these are the birds of the second infantry wing if I understand their uniforms correctly. I think that this group is on leave at the moment, Freya, so they should be here on liberty,” her mother said.

Freya was at a loss. Either her mother knew a lot more than she was letting on, or she was amazingly perceptive or both.

They walked on in companionable silence.

“How much is that dress going to cost?” Freya said.

“Well, it’s going to be five clams,” her mother said, “but it’s worth every pearl. I’ve been saving up by doing odd jobs ever since Bard was old enough to leave with your grandparents.”

“You really believe in me, huh?”

They passed by a mole selling covered mugs of pre-brewed tea for one pearl for two.

If one clam is worth what, three pearls? Five Pearls? Then mother just paid a bunch of drinks for that. Honestly, that seems like kind of a good deal, Freya thought, but I don’t know how many clams she makes translating for the coalition.

“I guess my follow-up question is how many clams you make, but…” Freya said.

“That’s not something you ask a Lady, Freya. It’s like asking a Lady her weight.”

Ah, Freya thought, so there is an information gap.

“Suffice to say,” her mother said, “your father and I make enough that you don’t have to worry about anything. You’ll live a comfortable life unless something horrible happens to both of us. And if something terrible does happen, you could always become a Soldier or a ranger. Heaven knows you’re a good enough shot for them to accept you as a candidate.”

Freya cocked her head as they finally left the clumping of birds around the market.

Her mother continued, “Yes, should the worst happen to us, they will take care of you. At least I hope that you can pick up something from your time with Lady Raina, because well I don’t think that the cats are going to agree with our latest proposal and they’ve been aggressively pushing their agenda in the recent talks.”

Freya blanched as they walked a little farther past the market. No one was in earshot anymore.

“But if the cats make war, won’t they go after the druids as well?” Freya said.

“The druids… well although they work with the coalition and Yellowrock, they have their own allegiance. Anyone can join the druids but first, they swear off all other oaths. I’ve known a few cat druids and even a lizard druid.”

Freya shivered in the warm autumn air. She’d heard of the lizard cultists. Some made them sound fearsome, and others made them sound like goofy crusaders, but all agreed that they were crafty about everything they did. But the cats, she’d heard that they ate mice and rabbits, so that couldn’t be true. Her mother put a paw on her shoulder. Freya felt the same red mist come over her that Spring had initiated, but there was no one around.

“You’re about to ask if the cats wanted to eat us. They were under a strict sworn oath to only eat fish while they were druids. They weren’t happy about it but they got over it,” her mother said. Her words seemed rhythmic.

“Your voice, it sounds like, wait why does my voice sound like it is rhyming?” Freya asked, feeling a song in her heart. It was a slow marching song. Freya felt drum beats below a surface as if they were being played underwater.

“I’m speaking to you in the language of the druids, child, so that no one nearby can eavesdrop on us. As a part of my ability, you are speaking it as well for the duration of this effect,” she replied. “Now, ask me your questions.”

The possibilities whooshed past Freya.

“I have two questions. First, how did you do that? Second, why did you leave the druids? Were you really not strong enough or did something else happen? Also, is what father said true about Old Gran and Grandpaw? He left the aristocracy to join her?”

Her mother gave her a wry sardonic look.

“Well, I guess you are an adult now. So I feel I should answer you honestly. On the first question, I drew upon the only powers the druids could give me. I left the druids because I wasn’t strong enough to manage the incantations that they asked of me. Where others drew a roaring fire I could barely produce a lick of flame. And yes, Grandpaw did leave his lands behind when he became a ranger and was allowed a compassionate release when my mother also wasn’t strong enough to continue in her training. They were bonded, you know?”

Freya nodded. They seemed comfortable together and weren’t apart for long.

They walked around the plateau, her mother showing her the other estates and giving her the plan for her promenade the next day. Her first date of many, her mother hoped.

It wasn’t until they finally left Yellowrock and began the walk home that Freya realized they were speaking in the druid’s language the entire way back.