The creature's eyes shone in the moonlight.

  "And

  it really knows how to get into the city? Can't you come with us?"

  Pastel asked, without taking his eyes off the imposing beast with its

  disproportionately large limbs.

  "'Course!

  It's hardly the first time he's done this! Our alliance with the howler

  monkeys is older than Ternoulie! Now, their sharing resources and they

  help us... move resources to Ternoulie without having to bother with

  administrative paperwork... I'll join you tomorrow and guide you to your

  kind." Tabi reassured, casually removing a fly from her two-tone fur.

  "An

  alliance you say..." murmured Pastel, crouching in the tall grass near

  the rice fields. The beast, a little smaller than Pastel, was

  nonetheless broad and muscular. It sat on the ground, searching the tall

  grass for insects which it seized with two fingers before bringing them

  to its mouth, chewing them as it glanced at the lemur and foxes near

  it.

  "All you have to

  do is follow him, but I warn you, I hope you run fast because the faster

  you cross the fields, the less chance you'll have of being seen by the

  guard."

  Pastel smiled and replied, "You're talking to plains hunters. Running is second nature to us."

  ***

  Pastel

  opened his eyes, a pillow pressed to his chest. A Morphos butterfly,

  iridescent azure, lay in a streak of light beside him. Around him, birds

  chirped, a baby screeched and crickets whistled.

  Eyes

  open, motionless, Pastel watched the shiny insect. The large wings

  gently closed, hiding their shiny face and revealing their brown,

  ocellated side. The brown circles reminded Pastel of the large, round

  eyes of lemurs. The wings spread again, shining brightly. Pastel sighed

  and the insect flew away. It was like a sheet of metal carried by the

  wind.

  As the

  butterfly flew away, the weight of anguish returned to his chest. After

  the long day and the long night before, he had finally managed to find

  sleep, but he would have liked to sink into it again, or disappear into

  the forest like that butterfly.

  After

  the respite of a few days, he had been able to hug his mother, sisters,

  grandmother, uncles, aunts and friends, and taste for a few moments, as

  the earth tastes rain, a semblance of tranquility. Then the invaders'

  magic cube shone.

  "The

  cursed die shined on little Fileniou's body. The die shone like never

  before when Pastel came to us! But before he came to us, the object was

  not disturbed by Marinelle, Manawan, Yalaria or anyone else! Only

  Batto's boys! If he were among us, I'm sure the stone would shine for

  him!"

  The eldest of

  the tall grass clan had spoken mid-voice into the large basket where

  several foxes were crowded. In Pastel's chest, silent, his heart

  pounded. He'd had the same thoughts. Indeed, there was no other

  explanation. Since Manawan and Yalaria's father was not Batto, it had to

  be said that the rock - or the cursed die, as the elder had called it -

  shone for Batto and his descendants. But why?

  Pastel

  saw again the plains enveloped in flames, ashes rising into the sky. He

  saw the hound in armor dismount his horse and walk among the fox

  corpses, focused. He was looking for Batto.

  Pastel

  looked at his hands and the fur on his arms. He thought of the blood

  coursing through his veins. The mixed blood of a fox and a dog. "The

  cursed blood of dogs" he couldn't help thinking.

  "I'm

  going to give myself up to them." Pastel proclaimed. The assembly fell

  silent. "If... if it's Batto they're after, he's dead. If it's me, well,

  they'll get what they came for and you'll be at peace."

  His

  mother interrupted him in a deep voice tinged with anger: "I didn't

  lose a son and a husband to lose another son! I'll cross every continent

  in eternal exile if that's what it takes to protect you and your

  sisters. This isn't your war, Pastel, it's ours! You're a child of the

  cradle of clouds."

  Someone

  adds: " It doesn't make sense, does it? You don't invade a territory

  for one person? It's absurd madness, think about it! They could have

  sent a person disguised as a trader and simply asked: 'hello, I'm

  looking for a dog called Batto' and he would have had his answer before

  the end of a season."

  Some nodded in agreement, others gave Pastel troubled looks.

  "Still,

  this die is dangerous. Even when it's inert, who knows if it's not

  connected... to them? Like a traveler follows the stars, maybe he's

  guiding them to us... to me." said Pastel, seeking the gaze of the

  others. Outside, a sudden gust of wind caused the room to sway subtly;

  leaves fell on the stares crouched there.

  "Pastel

  is right. We can't pretend this isn't important. As if this die wasn't

  at the heart of the reasons for our exile. We have to get rid of it at

  all costs and find out what it really is."

  The

  eldest cleared her throat for attention, "With all due respect to the

  Firefly Clan... is it really safe for you to remain among us?"

  "But

  what are we without the stone Pastel wears?" It was Betelaste, Tamo's

  cousin, who had just raised his voice, before a few rumblings and sighs

  answered him.

  "The

  clouds are my witness when I say that as far as I'm concerned, this

  exile is as much the fault of the stone as it is of this die. It's these

  damned magical objects that make us lose our minds..."

  "How

  dare you speak those words? You insult your ancestors and the very

  hills where you were born!" raged Pastel's grandmother. The conflict

  erupted like a torrent as the foxes rose to their feet, baring their

  teeth and shaking the basket-like house. Pastel had never seen his

  people insult each other like that.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A deafening hiss pierced the air: "Enough!" All eyes turned to Pastel.

  "We

  are the guardians of the steppes and clouds. Together, fireflies,

  grasses, highs, clouds, wildebeests... between mountains and oceans,

  between night and day, between showers and droughts, we will guard the

  steppes, the sky and all who inhabit it, dead or alive..." Pastel's keen

  gaze moved from one stunned face to another. Was it amazement? They

  were giving him a strange look. He continued, without stopping: "I don't

  know why we were forced into exile, why this stone shines or why the

  one I'm wearing speaks to me so differently. There's so much I don't

  know, but I do know one thing with certainty, and that's that we'll only

  survive together. I've crossed the jungle and the mountains to find

  you, and never before have I felt such terror. I've never been so afraid

  of losing you as I am of seeing you tear each other apart." Pastel's

  voice, at first strong and solid, had gradually softened before fading,

  hesitant.

  He fell

  silent and sat down again, gazing into space. He had felt it imperative

  to speak. It was as if a certainty had taken hold of his body, but as he

  spoke, he felt as if he were losing the meaning of his words, once

  again troubled by doubt. The stone burned in his fur, only slightly less

  than the pebbles which, at the same moment, were heating up under the

  tropical sun on the outskirts of the rice fields.

  After

  this afternoon of debate in the common space with the elders and clan

  leaders, tensions between the foxes dropped a notch, but didn't

  disappear completely. In a way, the debates became more complicated.

  Walking along the walkways, from one hanging basket to another, the

  others' gazes were changed, Pastel noticed. He was still one of them,

  but a new distance had appeared. For some it was respect, for others

  fear, pity or concern. Nothing Pastel liked.

  By

  nightfall, he was lying in his basket, his head on his sister's lap,

  who was plaiting his head, as they had sometimes done since they were

  children.

  "I'm going to leave, Manawan. I'm going to Ternoulie."

  The

  fox sighed and moved back, letting the little red braid slowly unravel.

  Pastel looked up to see his sister, her eyes closed and her teeth

  clenched.

  Before his sister had time to hurl a reproach at him, he quickly threw out some half-voiced explanations:

  "I

  need to find answers on my own! I trust everyone here, but there are

  some truths I wouldn't leave to others. I need to find a healer, track

  down Tamo and the resistance to put them in touch with someone an

  innkeeper told me about at a trading post and... hopefully I'd like to

  find someone in one of these temples who knows about magical items

  to..."

  "I'll come with you." Manawan said abruptly in a clear voice.

  "What? No! It's safer for me to go alone." Stammered Pastel, who hadn't expected such an answer.

  "Stop

  Pastel, you're annoying me! Do you hear yourself? It's a miracle you

  came to us! I know you, Pastel. I can see in your eyes that you're as

  lost as the rest of us, despite what some people think... Remember what I

  told you when you came back? That I was never going to let you go

  again."

  "Manawan..."

  "No, Pastel. I'm coming with you. Besides, how do you expect to get into the city, eh? I know."

  Pastel raised himself up on one elbow: "How do you know?"

  Manawan

  burst out laughing: "I knew you didn't know what you were going to do!

  What? You were going to listen to the stone and improvise? I've been

  here for weeks, talking to a few people... I've got friends among the

  lemurs. Mom didn't want me to go with Tamo and the resistance, but I was

  there when they discussed it... If you want, I'm ready to leave

  tomorrow. I just have to... warn the owner of the rice field and prepare

  a message for Mom and our sister." Manawan spoke with conviction, her

  eyes sparkling.

  "Fine."

  "Wow, that was easy."

  "... I change my mind."

  Manawan burst out laughing and tugged at her brother's half-loosened braid.

  "Ouch! Ok ok! Stop! it's fine you can come!"

  ***

  Pastel,

  Manawan, Tabi and the howler monkey were crouching in the rice fields,

  among the screeching locusts. Pastel hugged Tabi tightly: "Thank you!"

  "You're

  welcome, my friend!" Pastel refrained from remarking that they hardly

  knew each other. Tabi continued: "Remember: keep quiet, use the secret

  word to call Boonboon to the rescue, don't talk to anyone until you're

  inside the walls and wear the hood because even with the dye in your

  coat you're still foxes." The beast raised its head at hearing his name.

  Pastel

  and Manawan had indeed coated the fur on their faces and hands with a

  dark paste to camouflage the bright red of their coats. They weren't

  exactly dog-like, but at least they were a little more discreet.

  The

  lemur turned to the dark-skinned howler monkey and spoke slowly: "The

  two foxes will follow you, ok? You do what you always do, okay? You come

  back and I reward you... yes as planned. Okay?" The monkey nodded,

  opening his mouth to yawn through his teeth.

  "Go on, then. Go Boonboon!"

  The

  monkey jumped in place and dashed off along the path between the rice

  paddies. The two foxes were taken aback by its speed and ran off at full

  speed, without having time to thank Tabi the lemur one last time, who

  was quietly returning to the forest.

  They

  ran low, open-mouthed, with powerful, nimble and silent steps, in the

  wake of the large ape. Despite his imposing build, he knew how to move

  discreetly, and without their trained hunter's eye, Manawan and her

  brother could easily have lost sight of him. They ran at full speed,

  skimming the grass, slipping between the shacks and avoiding the

  clusters of buildings lining the river, where a few lights hinted at

  nocturnal activity. Instead, they stayed in the darkness of the fields

  and rice paddies.

  After

  half an hour's running, they reached the foot of the wall, which they

  skirted for a while longer. From time to time, the monkey would step

  aside to take a quick glance over his shoulder and check that the foxes

  were still following him. The shadows were deeper around the wall, where

  not even the moonlight could reach.

  Suddenly,

  the monkey stopped and turned towards them. Pastel put his hand on the

  red mud-brick wall. It was a little warm under his fingers. Silently,

  the monkey waved at them, pointing to a bush that had grown up against

  the wall, before scurrying off again and disappearing between the rice

  paddies. Manawan and Pastel looked at each other for a moment, then

  approached the small, rickety bush that had managed to grow in the

  shadow of the imposing structure, six times the height of the foxes.

  A

  hole barely wider than their shoulders was hidden between the branches,

  defined by the roots that had cracked the structure. They removed their

  tunics before stuffing them into their bags to keep them clean and, one

  after the other, the foxes crouched and crawled into the cramped duct

  that ran through the wall. With the half-light came a surprising

  freshness. Insects wriggled between their fingers.

  Finally,

  they emerged into the warm and thick night air, into a dark room

  cluttered with stones and garbage. Manawan put a hand on her brother's

  shoulder. "That was easier than I thought!" she whispered.

  "Don't

  talk too fast." Pastel replied, moving slowly towards an opening

  surmounted by an arch through which the moonlight was gently creeping.

  Manawan followed him, not at first understanding why he suddenly stopped

  at the edge of the light. She leaned over his shoulder to see the piles

  that, beyond the archway, seemed to fill a large inner courtyard from

  which came a strong odor of urine.

  "Funny

  idea to keep rice bags in such a..." Manawan began to express in a low

  voice when Pastel abruptly signaled her to be quiet.

  She

  opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she realized that the piles

  were moving, or rather, breathing. A dozen gigantic monsters were

  sleeping under the moonlight, their skin as rough as stone.