I knew we landed when I woke to a quiet ship the next morning. My cousins were still asleep above and below me. The smell of Grandma’s java cake made me want to get up, but angry voices in the cabin kept me abed.

  “Times are too hard in Loyal Trench,” Dad said. “The place is overrun by pirates, and there’s no work. It’s no place to raise a pup.”

  “That’s fine,” Grandma said. “You can stay here with us.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” Grandma said.

  “I’m a grown canid. I have to make my own way.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Grandma scolded.

  “We have to migrate, Mom. There’s no other option.”

  “You’ll be just as well served staying here and getting a mastery. You’ve been working at the temple for years now. It’s not wise to attend all those lessons with no credentials to show for it.”

  “There’s no way I could be an ordained magician and raise my son at the same time.”

  “Why? You know we’d take care of Burgeon while you’re away.”

  “He’s my son. He belongs with me.”

  “Okay,” Grandpa said. “But do you actually believe there’s a better life for you in the Weeping Wallows?”

  “There are jobs there,” Dad said.

  “There’s work right here,” Grandpa said. “You’re a gifted merchant. I could use you. And what about that creature you married?”

  “She wants an estrangement,” Dad said.

  “What?” Grandma said. “That’s horrible.”

  “It is horrible,” Grandpa said. “But we warned you about taking up with creatures like her. Estrangement is impossible for canids but not for raptors. They kick their offspring out of the nests at the earliest opportunity.”

  I became angry. I wanted Grandpa to take back what he just said.

  “I don’t really need to hear about that right now,” Dad said.

  “Well, hear about it or not, you’d better hear this. I will not take you to Weeping Wallows.”

  “Why?”

  “You want to take off your collar? Pick up a few fleas? Be disloyal? I will not allow my son and grandson to become strays. Your place is here with your family, as is Burgeon’s.”

  “It’s only half a day’s travel by thoroughfare. We won’t even need to wear masks in that realm.”

  “Leaving your home is the same as leaving your people!” Grandma said.

  “Living in Loyal Trench is unhealthy,” Dad said. “We need this. I’ll rent a sky-sled and take us there myself if I have to, but we can’t stay here.”

  “I’ll say no more about this,” Grandpa said, trotting out of the cabin.

  Grandma followed him out. A moment passed.

  “You might as well come out, Burgeon,” Dad said.

  I opened the curtain and stepped down the ladder. My Aunt walked into the cabin.

  “Will Mom be able to find us if we move?” I said.

  Dad and my Aunt’s faces went somber.

  “Probably not,” Dad said.

  “But my sweater,” I whined. “Mom promised to make me a new one. She won’t know where to send it if we move.”

  I could smell tears forming in my Aunt’s eyes. My thoughts shot frantically from one side of my mind to the other. Panic set in. My Cousins started to stir, their ears hanging behind their heads sleepily.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Good morning, girls,” my Aunt piped, stuffing down the sadness. “Grandma made some yummy breakfast. Burgeon, do you want some …”

  I was gone when they turned around, dashing through the corridor. I had to do something fast. I had to find a way to get her back, or at least to let her know where we’d be so she could find us again.

  The cargo door was open. I snuck down the ramp to cool green grass under my feet. A warm breeze blew through my fur and a prairie between the trench walls, spotted with purple flowers. We were at Merlin’s Moor–a refitting station on the light side of the trench. That was where Retreat made berth, and I spent many summers as a pup.

  The pleasantness of the light side fell away like a thoroughfare and retook the shape of Mom. I had to reach her somehow. Then I remembered one of Mom’s promises in Sleeping Locus.

  I skipped to the nearby windmill, stepped through the cobblestone doorway, and climbed the wooden stairs. I emerged from the doorway up top onto the balcony overlooking the prairie. I climbed onto the railing, spread my wings, and jumped.

  * * *

  The only thing I remember of the fall was the heart-stopping thump as I hit the ground chest first. Then my Uncle shouted something inaudible as one of the mechanisms carried me back to the ship. I couldn’t breathe. I remembered bright light shining into my eyes. I lay on the table in the cabin. Grandma was tending my scrapes with a cold, wet rag. Dad was pacing back and forth nervously. I could smell Grandpa there too.

  “I’ve scanned his body thoroughly,” the mechanism said, standing over me. “He has no serious injuries, no ruptures, internal bleeding, and no broken bones. It appears his wings slowed the fall just enough to save him from being seriously injured, though his brain shows troubling emotional activity. He is awake now.”

  “Burgeon!” Dad said, hopping onto the table and looking me in the eyes. “I need to know why! Why would you jump off the mill like that?”

  Grandpa patted Dad’s shoulder with his paw. There were tears in Grandma’s eyes.

  “She didn’t catch me,” I cried.

  “Catch you?” Dad said. “Who?”

  “Mom,” I choked.

  “Mom? She is not here! This is no dream, son!”

  “You can’t just go leaping off buildings,” Grandma said.

  A silent moment passed. Dad jumped off the table.

  “Is that it?” Grandpa said. “You were trying to get your mother’s attention? There was no other reason you jumped?”

  “No,” I said. “She was supposed to catch me. She always catches me.”

  Dad, Grandpa, and Grandma looked at one another. I could smell relief in their sighs.

  “Why don’t you lie in your rack for a while,” Grandma said.

  “Dad?” I said. “What’s estrangement mean?”

  Dad looked down at his feet, searching for the words. His face filled with shame like a puddle on a rainy day.

  “Go on back to your rack, Burgeon,” Grandpa said.

  I got down, limped across the cabin, and climbed the ladder into my bed.

  “Now you see?” Dad said. “Now you understand why we can’t stay here?”

  * * *

  I climbed out of my rack after a long nap. My neck and back were tight, my chest was sore, and my legs ached.

  “Is anybody here?” I said, but nobody answered.

  Something glinted on the table. I walked over and picked it up. It was the tear-shaped memory crystal Mom had dropped on the floor when she flew away.

  “A memory crystal,” I said, holding it to my eye.

  I saw Mom’s image within, like an apparition trapped inside. A moment later, all my pain had been forgotten, and I was hopping through the corridor, looking for a mechanism.

  “You!” I said breathlessly to one of them working inside the escape pod bay.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Read this!”

  “Sure thing.”

  I reached up and placed the crystal in the mechanism’s cold metal hand. A little orbucullum popped out of a panel between her black eyes. Light flashed, drawing my attention to the crystal ball, and I saw an apparition in my mind that looked like my Mom.

  “Son,” she said. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  She appeared cold and exhausted. Her cheeks were uncolored, and her face was expressionless. Her voice was small and shy, as it was when she was staying with us at the Whyborn Inn.

  “You are your Dad’s child, and you belong with him. I think you should stay with him from now on. This will be the best thing for everyone. The truth is, you are not one of my kind. You are my son, and I love you, but I cannot be a mother to you. You have ways about you, ways that I don’t understand and cannot deal with. You will never be happy as long as you’re around me and my kind. You’ll be better off with creatures who are more like you and your father. You will not see me in Sleeping Locus anymore. I will never come back.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “I never want to see you again,” she said. “Goodbye, Burge.”

  Her gaze went down to the floor, and the apparition faded from my mind. The mechanism gave the crystal back to me.

  “There you go,” the mechanism said cheerfully. “Have a lovely day.”

  I dropped the crystal on the floor, and it shattered. I grabbed my chest. My heart was pounding. My blood ran cold. My stomach was sick. I couldn’t think. Confusion. Anger. Rage. Sadness. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to pass out.

  * * *

  The early winter of Weeping Wallows was killing the sun. The Retreat lifted off, tucking its landing legs, and disappeared. Our family was gone. We were alone. I never want to see you again, she said, far away, refusing to show her face. Those words played over and over again in my mind. Mom was supposed to catch me. She said she’d always be there. So many broken promises. Dad sat next to me and nosed at my hand. I dropped to my knees. He placed his paw on my back and his chin on my shoulder. I winced. Pure nothingness far and wide. Nothing to see. No smells amid the biting cold. I stood in the center of a desolate field. The wind whipped, scattering a wreath of molted feathers across the frozen dirt. I could see nothing but a gray horizon. Then it started raining.

  ******

  Have you ever been to the galaxy of Grief? Let us know in the comments!