Outside my window, the landing stairs of the airship crash into the ground with a portentous thud. It is the sound I’ve been straining to hear for weeks yet dreading profusely. As the age-marred propellers wind down, I silently plead for my nerves to do the same. Here we are again — the scene of the tragedy and my nightmares: The hollow in the eastern weald.

“Commander, are you alright?”

I raise my head to see the professor sitting in the shoddy bench seat directly before me. Dressed in a warm, tan overcoat, he has a look of concern scrawled across his face.

“You don’t have to join the search,” Finch adds from behind me. Gently, they rest their tail against my shoulder. “You can stay aboard the ship.”

It seems my apprehension was more noticeable than I expected. I suppose it’s unavoidable. “I appreciate your concern,” I say, raising Finch’s tail and depositing it on their side of the seat. “But I am prepared. This outing was my idea, after all.”

Slowly, Willow inclines his head. “Very well. But, should change your mind…” He draws his paw across the flight deck, beckoning to an empty seat.

I match his gentle smile and rise to my feet. I appreciate the offer, but this time will be different.

Just as he promised, the Prince secured us an airship for our mission to locate the Serpentine Diamond. Though it brought us here in one piece, it’s a far cry from the family’s usual accommodations, the Blue Daemon. Cramped, old, and with a paper-thin flight deck scarcely wide enough to contain us and our possessions, the craft is usually reserved for training pilots and very little else. It’s not hard to see why — I’ve been inside outhouses with more compelling amenities.

Still, the vessel fulfilled its routine purpose, allowing Max’s son Odell some valuable time behind the rudders. We may not have much in the way of tools, but the five of us should be enough to search the area before nightfall. I’ll take anything we can get today. Given the mood at the palace, it’s a minor miracle we could disembark at all.

…

Let’s set aside that particular thought for now.

We landed in the field next to the hollow, the one where I witnessed the Lithan taking flight. As the propellers go silent, Max and Odell are the first to disembark and anchor the ship to the ground. This may not be an official mission of the Air Squadron, but as the ranking officer, it’s my duty to follow after them. I stand at the top of the flight deck, gazing down the metal landing stairs that descend into a frozen field of trampled brown grass. I draw a deep breath and slowly place one foot in front of the other…

As I step into the field, a bitter wind whips against my pea coat, allowing me my first look at the hollow where everything went so terribly wrong. That is, what remains of the hollow. Gone are the suffocating walls of bramble and thickets surrounding the hollow on all sides. In its place is a sterile, flattened parcel of dirt with almost no trace of the vegetation that once crowded it. If it weren’t for the familiar grove of trees on the high ground above the hollow, I’d be unaware that a national tragedy occurred in such an unsuspecting location.

I knew the hollow had been scoured — the official report said as much. But to flatten it to the bare moon with such prejudice… I would have never anticipated this. Regrettably, I find myself second-guessing my judgment. Was I wrong all along? Can we truly find the diamond after so much has changed?

Finch and Willow depart the ship with their tools in tow. We couldn’t bring much — two shovels and a couple of hand trowels will have to suffice. As they approach the three of us who already departed, Odell leans over to Max and whispers something into his ear. My old friend nods.

“Odell wants to stay aboard the ship,” Max says, turning to face me. “I hope that’s alright with you.”

The young pilot forces a smile. He must be anxious about being in the hollow. Truthfully, Odell has already played his part — the cover of allowing him some valuable flight time worked well in securing our ship. Still, I was looking forward to having an extra pair of…

…On second thought, perhaps it would be best if Odell monitored the radio. “Very well,” I nod. “Keep your radio tuned to the pilot exchange. Let us know if there are any announcements.”

“The pilot exchange?” The young ringtail tilts his head. “But sir, we’ve already landed.”

“Just do what the Commander says,” Max gives Odell a pat on the head and a shove against his back. “Now go on, git!”

Odell stumbles forward before settling into a leisurely jog, passing Finch and Willow on his way back to the ship. As they step forward to join us, our other two participants have a certain look of awe scrawled across their faces. I can’t say I blame them. This is hollowed ground, and they are among the first to visit. Or at least what remains of it.

“Well, then,” I say, fighting the frigid winds to button my coat. “It seems the investigators performed their due diligence.”

“Cleaner than a chicken’s rump,” Max observes.

“Let’s not allow that to deter us,” I say. “Her Majesty insisted on a rapid investigation. In their haste, the investigators could have made mistakes.”

I pause to gauge the mood of our group. Willow looks weary, holding his tail close behind him. But Finch has a look of fervid determination across their face. And Max? Well, Max looks like he’d rather be flying right now.

I continue, “For everyone who passed that day… let’s give it our best shot.”

Willow lowers a solemn nod. “For absent friends.”

From an overcast sky, flurries begin to fall.

Ice crunches beneath our boots as we traverse the field, treading over long dead stalks of grass. As we approach the scene of the tragedy, the ground beneath us changes to bare soil and then changes again. Disparate patches of stubby, regrown plants pepper the hollow, disproving the notion that the area was scoured entirely. Willow immediately notices the change and bends down to inspect a small pocket of plants growing beside a small, woody stump. The rest of us continue forward, making our way into the heart of the hollow.

Max and Finch search errantly, prodding the ground with their shovels, turning over rocks and sticks, and occasionally disturbing the moon to check for anything unusual. I wander between them, holding my eyes low in a vain attempt to distract myself from the memories of that day. Although the hollow has changed, the grove surrounding it has not. I turn my head up, woefully allowing my gaze to wander to the spot in the thickets where I burst forward and witnessed the Lithan taking flight.

And, of course, I recall that spot. The spot where I spent so much time on that horrible night that I can practically recall it just by the trees surrounding us.

I spent hours there, above Calypso…

…

As the afternoon drags on, we seem to be making little progress. Finch and Max have paused to take breaks and warm themselves up while I find myself distracted by intrusive thoughts. Perhaps I should go easy on myself. Being here is troublesome enough, and it’s no minor miracle I haven’t broken down weeping.

“Commander.”

The Professor calls over the wind, strolling from the side of the hollow with his paws buried deep in his coat pockets. The look on his face matches the weather — dreary.

“What have you found?” I ask.

“The question you should be asking is, ‘What haven’t you found?’”

My head tilts, unable to solve Willlow’s riddle. “…Go on.”

“All of the regrowth is of native species,” he says, drawing his paw outward in a sweeping motion. “For example, observe the dried sprouts of Hollyhead carex, or the diminutive patch of manzanita.”

I follow his lead, gazing toward the areas where plants have grown back. But the answer to his conundrum remains elusive. “I don’t understand. The weald is a nature preserve. Shouldn't we expect native plants to grow here?”

“Quite the opposite. Without the diligent care of Animals, invasive species flourish across Ellyntide. Do you recall the brambles?”

“…Ah.” Now I get it. “They’re invasive.”

“One of nature’s most stubborn plants, yet it’s been completely eradicated from the hollow. Commander, after concluding the investigation, they did not simply fly home. They got to work re-engineering the flora of this hollow.”

Everything's been changed...? “But why? Why go through all that trouble?”

“A member of the Royal family died here,” Finch speaks over the wind, approaching with their shovel resting on their shoulder. “And, this is a nature preserve — open to the public. Anyone can waltz in and have a look around.”

“And they will,” I conclude, drawing my hand against my chin in contemplation. “They wanted it to look presentable.”

“Or they wanted something to return to,” Willow says ominously.

I'll never forget the impenetrable walls of bramble that used to grow here. To learn that they're an invasive species that grew out of control makes perfect sense. Still, I'm not sure I believe the angle that the hollow was groomed to be presentable. The location where Queen Beatrix was assassinated is on public grounds, and the Crown has done little to signify it as a place of importance.

But why would they foresee themselves returning to the hollow? At length, I espoused to Finch why the report on the tragedy was ultimately irrelevant — little more than a pretext for war, should it become necessary. Perhaps more than ever, I still harbor that belief, so what is the significance of returning here?

Why must the answers always be elusive? I allow my shoulders to sag and release a muted sigh. “Let’s keep looking. We’ve still got an hour or two of daylight left.”

“Locate the areas less disturbed,” Willow suggests. “The ones that weren’t planted last fall. Our best hope lies there.”

As the sun sets against a mottled gray horizon, we continue to come up empty-handed. Finch and Willow have decided to take another break, resting against the side of a rock and discussing how much daylight we have left. Or if it's worth calling off the search altogether. I’m not sure where Max went walked off to. I think he got bored and returned to the ship.

I stab Finch's shovel into the ground to lean against it. I've continued the search, poking the ground here and there, inspecting the places the investigators could have missed, just as Willow suggested. But I'm not immune to the fatigue and the cold. The sun is setting, and it won’t be long before the temperatures plunge. Have I truly led everyone on a wild goose chase? What if the vision in my dream was really just that — a dream?

As my thoughts wander, I glance around the hollow and notice something peculiar. The trees, they’re…

…

I recognize them from this angle. How could I possibly forget? This was the spot where Calypso fell. The spot where I spent so much time on that endless night, clutching his chest and weeping into his arms…

As negative thoughts overwhelm me, I lower onto one knee, desperately trying to fend off a full-on anxiety attack. I have to maintain my composure! As the memories swirl in my head anew, something unusual stands out: the logs scattered around the hollow.

They’re still here, aren’t they…?

I raise my head, and my gaze leads to the right side of the hollow. There, at the base of the incline that leads up into the grove of trees, is a scattering of logs situated on a bare patch of dirt. I’ve been avoiding them because there’s no regrowth nearby, only bare soil.

Slowly, I clamber to my feet and rip the shovel from the ground. I approach the logs and use my boot to kick over the closest one, exposing the uncomfortably slimy underside. Strange looking vegetation grows there in a flurry of colors, though most prominent is a strange, black looking… fungus? I’m not sure what to call it. It resembles short strands of hair and grows all over the backside of the wood.

But it’s the ground underneath the log that’s important. And it’s here that I find a boilerplate-sized patch of the original grass preserved beneath the log. Somehow, the investigators missed this! With no regard for cleanliness, I drop to my knees and search the grass with my hands, feeling around for anything unusual.

And then, when it seems like I’ve scoured it…

“EVERYONE!!” I shriek. “Everyone, come quickly!”

Finch and Willow crane their necks in my direction, their faces filled with hopeful resolve. They jump to their feet and hurry to my position by the logs. On the far side of the hollow, Max leaps from the flight deck of the ship, sailing over the landing stairs and nearly tumbling to the ground as he lands. Moments later, he’s standing above me, flanked on both sides by Finch and Willow.

“Did you...?” Max asks, panting for breath.

Instead of replying, I search my hands through the grass again, pulling aside the frozen fronds. And it’s there at the bottom, just as it was in my dreams, that I find it: The Serpentine Diamond.

“By Jaya,” I whisper.

Slowly, I draw my hand forward and lift the diamond from its resting place, holding it at arm’s length from my body. I twist it around, inspecting it for damage from the attack that took the late Princesses’ life. Remarkably it seems unscathed, with its distinctive shape still intact. This is it! The ring of legend!

“The Serpentine Diamond!” Willow gasps.

Max covers his mouth in shock. “O-Oh my stars!”

“Dunc, wait.”

Finch crouches beside me and reaches forward to draw back another layer of grass. To my astonishment, there’s something else here: the golden shank that held the diamond — the ring worn on the Princess’s right hand. But as they lift it into the air for closer inspection, something becomes dreadfully apparent.

“It’s been damaged?!” Willow gasps.

“What is this?!” I ask, angling my head for a closer look. Indeed, it is the ring the Princess wore, tarnished and dirtied by sitting in a field for the past four months. But where it used to be a loop of metal with prongs to hold the ancient diamond, it now more closely resembles a coffee tin shot by a steam gun. On one side of the band, the metal is warped and splintered, like a great force came and tore the ring in two.

Willow crouches down beside Finch and asks, “May I?”

Finch nods and presents to ring to Willow. He holds it above him, using what little daylight remains to inspect the finer details of the metal. “It’s as if the ring was destroyed inside-out.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Inside-out? What do you mean?”

“It’s like this,” Willow says, rising to his feet. He holds the ring before Max, then uses his other paw to make a fist. “Either the Princess removed the ring before she passed, or someone took it from her. As to which is more likely, I’m not qualified to answer. But regardless of what happened…” Willlow’s palm opens wide, initiating an explosion. “A force from within the ring expelled outwards, causing the damage we see now and dislodging the diamond.”

A force from within the ring? After it was removed from her hand? “That doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “Even if the Princess willingly gave the diamond to Crow Wing, why would they destroy it?”

“And, how was it destroyed?” Max ponders. “From inside? That don’t make a lick of sense.”

“All I know is…” I gaze down, marveling at the national treasure in the palm of my head. “We have to get this to Prince So—“

“HEY!!!”

Odell’s voice splits the air, immediately drawing our attention to the ship. He’s standing at the top of the landing stairs, making sweeping gestures with his arms. He’s…beckoning us to return….

“What is that boy doin’?” Max asks, scratching his head.

A sickening feeling overwhelms my heart, the same manner of dread I felt in this very hollow on the day of the tragedy. The worry on Odell’s face leaves little doubt about what he’s bothered by.

My heart slams against my chest, pushing me to hop to my feet. “Come on. We have to listen to the radio.”

“The radio?” Finch asks. “Why?”

Should I tell them now…?

Perhaps it would be best if they heard the Queen’s own words. I secure the diamond in my coat pocket, buckle the clasp and say, “Her Majesty is making an address to the Kingdom.”

Finch’s eyes turn wide as discs. Monarchs only address the Kingdom by radio when they have something truly significant to announce — not even the death of Princess Asha met this high standard. But after all the turmoil of the past four months, there can be only one thing Kelani is announcing today.

“Bring the diamond,” Willow speaks quickly, pocketing the ring.

“Right!” I say, taking off in a sprint.

Ice crackles as we race across the hollow, our hearts filled with fear. If the specter of what we dread is truly at hand, then there’s no time to waste. We must return to Varecia at once! As we approach the ship, Odell leaps inside the pilot’s deck and enables the outside speakers, projecting the Queen’s resolute voice across the hollow.

“—as President Weatherlight believes she can terrorize our skies. We will not sit idle as she works to undermine us, piece-by-piece, island-by-island, and soul-by-soul. That is why, at the advice of the Air Squadron, the Home Guard, and by the authority granted to me by the Goddess Mother, I declare a state of war against the Confederacy of Nortane.”

We stop in front of the landing stairs, shocked and out of breath. What was once considered unthinkable has now come to pass — war in our time, against a nation vastly more powerful than our own Kingdom.

“No…” Finch laments with terror in their eyes. “Damn it, no!”