“Sunny!” Maggie waved down her partner from the sheltered corner of the courtyard where she had remained for much of the afternoon. Garden-Blessing was chatting with Song by her pond, and the rest of the Explorers had accompanied the bat to a late lunch, so the company was doubly appreciated. “What happened? Did work hold you up?” She glanced over Sunny-Plume’s shoulder, noticing that one of the Guardians, the eagle, had arrived with it. There was already another Guardian huddled under an awning on the opposite end of the courtyard, so it was here for some other purpose.


    “Yes, it did.” The kestrel chirped as it hopped over and settled down next to her, not even acknowledging the extra guard. Everything about how it was moving, from the sluggish pace to how its eyes were cast at her talons rather than her face, made it clear that something was seriously bothering it. She would have to do something about that.


    “Sunny, have I ever told you about smiles?”


    “Why would you need to tell me about cheerful expressions?”


    “No, you see, it’s a very specific cheerful expression from my world. It was far more difficult for us to read subtle body language without being Gifted, so we relied on exaggerated facial expressions to passively convey emotions. Look”— Maggie lowered her head and began scratching out a picture in the damp dirt with her beak —”our faces had forward-facing eyes here, a nose here, and a mouth below the nose. And if we wanted to express joy”— she put the finishing touches on her crude smiley face with the upturned mouth —”we’d hold that shape with our mouths.”


    “...Is that why Quiet-Dream keeps baring its teeth when it''s content?” Sunny-Plume whistled the observation, prompting Maggie to laugh.


    “Sure is, and honestly, I think he was on to something. Watch.” Maggie tilted her head forward and slightly to her right, side-eyeing Sunny-Plume and partially opening her beak. If she had the perspective right, it would have made a passable illusion of a smile from where the raptor was sitting.


    “And people wonder why I love you so much,” Sunny whistled as it playfully shoved the off-balance myna with a wing, causing her to tip over with a playful squawk.


    A quiet, disdainful click drew the pair’s attention. It was the eagle, muttering to itself in the doorway, seemingly unaware that it could be heard.


    “Hey! If we bother you so much, just go away!” Maggie shouted. “You’re not even the Guardian on duty today!”


    “I am assigned to watch Sunny-Plume during its visit, not you.”


    “Why the hell would you–”


    “Pearl…” Sunny-Plume chirped, cutting the myna off before she could launch into a barrage of questions. “I resigned from my role as a Seeker this morning.” It returned to staring at the ground.


    “...What? Why?”


    “I…”


    “Guardian Soaring-Strength!” A loud bellow and the clatter of hooves preceded an unfamiliar impala leaping out of a nearby door, nearly falling as it slipped in the mud. “You are needed at the Lead Scholar’s office at once!”


    “What could possibly be so urgent that I have my duty assignments changed twice in one day?” the eagle screeched, apparently fed up with the constant reorganization.


    “We have been attacked!”


    The declaration hung in the air, making the stunned silence that followed even more oppressive than the omnipresent thrumming of the rain that filled it.


    “Sunny-Plume. Your visit is over. Leave.” The eagle screeched the order and did not even wait for a response, taking flight into the rain and then diving in an unseen skylight. It was forced to trust that Sunny would obey. The Messenger who delivered the news likewise galloped off, probably to inform more Guardians.


    “Sunny,” Maggie said, her voice wobbly with a rising panic. “Quiet-Dream and Black-Leap are in that office for their interview. We need to make sure they’re okay, then gather everyone. If we’re being targeted, then we can’t afford to be isolated.”


    “I will find the squirrels and bring them back safely. You can gather the others.” Sunny-Plume stood up and spread its wings, ready to take to the air.


    “But I thought you–”


    “I resigned from my role because it demanded that I stop seeing you. I am still just as capable of Seeking as I ever was.” The kestrel did its best to mimic Maggie “smile” in an attempt to comfort her, but it only made her worry grow.


    “Promise me you’ll come back safe,” Maggie said.


    “We will all come back safe…” Sunny-Plume’s entire body tensed for a moment, as if it were putting monumental effort into something she couldn’t see. “I promise, Maggie.” All at once, the tension seemed to lift, and it took off into the rain, leaving its stunned mate to put together what just happened.


    “Pretty-Plume, you beautiful dumbass,” Maggie muttered, for once relieved that she couldn’t cry. “I’m holding you to that.”


    <hr>


    “Are you certain that this is what you want?”


    “Yes, it is. I refuse to participate in a system that insists on isolating and abusing those in need.”


    “Then I formally accept your resignation, Sunny-Plume.” Lead Seeker Painted-Trace sighed and dipped its head in acknowledgement, maintaining unwavering eye-contact with the kestrel perched in front of it. “I hope that you find fulfillment in a future role.”


    “And you in yours,” Sunny-Plume clicked its beak with more than a hint of disappointment.


    “We all have to work with the reality we are given,” the spotted dog whined as it turned to leave the meeting room. It paused just before reaching the curtains, however, and pawed at the ground several times, silently conveying a final message. “Be careful, Sunny-Plume. Rooted-Place knows something we do not, and is willing to resort to drastic measures because of it. Do not do anything foolish, for both of your sake.”


    <hr>


    The scene from that morning replayed again in Sunny-Plume’s head. It had not responded to the Lead Seeker’s request at the time, because it simply couldn’t promise anything of the sort. And now, having seen the scene of the attack and Apprentice Quiet-Dream’s abduction, it could tell that  “doing something foolish” was only going to become more likely from this point forward. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “WE INHERIT THE TRUTH.”


    The expression was splattered on the wall opposite the office door in a bright orange paint, having been flicked and thrown at the wall rather than brushed or smeared, leaving no indication of the physical characteristics of the painter. On the floor nearby, still-wet streaks of red left an altogether different message.


    The Guardian on duty had been struck over the head with something hard and heavy, left bleeding on the floor for a passerby to discover. It was uncertain if it would survive, but the physicians were giving it their all. While Soaring-Strength initially assumed that the attackers had come to ‘rescue’ Quiet-Dream, Physician Able-Heart identified the distinctive scent of an inhaled anesthetic in the air, one that it occasionally used to render patients unconscious for painful or dangerous medical procedures. The squirrel had been drugged and abducted, making the goals of any investigation search and rescue rather than the capture of a fugitive.


    Of course, Sunny-Plume was not officially a Seeker anymore, and thus not part of any organized effort. It only managed to get a brief look at the scene of the crime because it volunteered to help calm an incredibly distraught Black-Leap.


    “Let me go! I’m going to help search! Let me go!” The black-furred kit cried and squirmed in the awkward embrace of the Lead-Scholar, who was struggling to pen in the child with its wings.


    “You would not know where to look,” Delving-Thought squawked, clearly overwhelmed. “Your mother will be found. Please be calm!”


    “You need to be more certain in your assurances,” Sunny-Plume whistled, getting both of their attention. “You can blame its mother for that. Apprentice Quiet-Dream’s convictions are so strong that its kits are not likely to be convinced by anything less.”


    “And you are…?”


    “Sunny-Plume, former Seeker.”


    “Ah! You were the last person on my list to interview, but now”— the cockatoo grunted as Black-Leap wiggled out from its feathery prison and attempted to bolt —”there are more important things to contend with.”


    Sunny-Plume nodded and fluttered in front of the fleeing kit, lowering its head to the child’s eye-level as it nearly collided with the kestrel’s beak.


    “Black-Leap. I promised Maggie that I would bring you back safe. I promised that I would bring both of you back. I will keep that promise, Understand?”


    “...Okay. Then do it. Please.”


    “Fascinating…” The Lead-Scholar watched their exchange with a keen interest, clearly having drawn some manner of insight from it that it had been lacking. However, it was much too lost in thought to say anything as Sunny-Plume picked up Black-Leap in its talons and flew off down the hall. The kit remained quiet, even as it was dropped off into the waiting wings of Maggie and explained the situation.


    “Sunny, wait.” Maggie called after it as it turned around to leave. “I just wanted to thank you. For learning my name.”


    “It was important to you.”


    “More than you could ever know.”


    “That made it important to me, no matter how difficult it was.” Sunny-Plume touched its forehead to Maggie’s. “You are important to me.”


    “Then don’t forget your promise,” Maggie whispered. “Stay safe, for me. Because if I had to choose between you and my own name, I’d pick you. That’s how important you are.”


    “I will,” The kestrel cooed.


    “See you soon, Pretty-Plume.”


    “You will, Maggie.” Sunny gave the myna a “peck on the cheek,” one of its favorite romantic gestures, flustering it enough to force it to fluff up. “Otherwise I would not be able to do that to you anymore.”


    Having sufficiently embarrassed its mate, the former Seeker took off into the rain, ready to begin its search.


    If I were working on a team, I would have someone search for witnesses. I do not have the luxury of time or extra help, though. So what leads do I have?


    The first, immediate lead was the nature of the attack on the Guardian. It was a singular, heavy blow from above, which would have required a tall, strong species. This was far from identifying the assailant, but it meant that there would be far fewer places such a creature could stay out of sight, and most of those were on the outer edge of the city, where the buildings had been built with Darksoil’s largest residents in mind.


    The second item of note was the painted message. It was the same kind of paint that had been used in a recent string of vandalism cases, one that Sunny itself had spotted and reported as part of its duties many times. If these “Inheritors of the Truth” were also the vandals, they would need to source and store their paints somewhere. Combined with the fact that the rumors about the spiritual significance of Maggie and the others had begun in the Crafters’ Quarter, beginning its search in the duskward edge of that quarter and spiraling out from there had the best chances of success.


    Even with those deductions, searching for the kidnappers was an arduous process. Once Sunny-Plume spotted a building that satisfied all the necessary criteria, it had to examine it from every angle, landing on the roof, walking around the ground on the perimeter, and listening at any doors or windows for activity inside. And it had to do all of this in the steadily intensifying rain, rendering it unable to take advantage of its long-distance eyesight and necessitating taking shelter to get water out of its wings from time to time. Still, the kestrel trudged on. It had a promise to keep.


    The first two buildings it searched had not had anyone come or go from them for at least several days, judging by the lack of scuffs in the mud around the doors. The third was a warehouse busy loading barrels of diluted Darksoil fertilizer to be shipped dawnward, and the workers there made it clear they were not involved in or aware of the kidnapping. They were, however, able to direct Sunny to a fourth building, one that had been home to a visual art studio in the past, and had recently been renovated by new occupants. It was here that it found the evidence it was looking for.


    A faded, sun-bleached sign declaring the old purpose of the building was still etched into the wall over its main entrance, having once been painted in familiar oranges and yellows. Numerous sets of footprints had indeed been coming and going, including one of a particularly large hoofed  animal whose tracks were fresh enough to not have even begun to wash away just yet. Further examination of the building showed windows that hadn’t just been closed and covered, but outright filled in with new masonry, while the roof had clearly seen quite a bit of flying traffic. Talon-scratches and discarded feathers from at least four different species littered the edges of the building, and more scratches made the latch to a hatch door in the roof far more obvious than its camouflage colors would have been from above.


    It didn’t seem to be locked, and given that Sunny-Plume was no longer part of an Order to bring shame to, it decided that taking a look inside to confirm its suspicions would be prudent.


    “I would not open that, if I were you.” A harsh, hissing growl pierced the buzz of rainfall, causing Sunny-Plume to spin around with a squawk. An unknown figure stood about six wingspans behind him, its body shrouded in a heavy gray cloak. The garment managed to pull the impressive triple duty of masking the creature''s identity, acting as decent camouflage on the damp stone, and keeping its wearer far dryer than Sunny-Plume currently was.


    “Who are you?” the kestrel screeched.


    “Oh good, you actually listened,” the figure continued, ignoring the question. “If you had seen anything inside, then my job would be way harder. Now all we have to do is lock you in a dark room until our comrades finish packing.”


    “We?” Sunny-Plume just barely put together what it meant in time to sidestep a leaping pounce from behind, sending an exceptionally stealthy bobcat skidding across the rain-slicked rooftop, though not quite in time to prevent it from clipping a wing with a forepaw. The blow completely scuffed its attempted takeoff, spinning it around and very nearly knocking it prone.


    “Fast, but not fast enough, especially not with those waterlogged feathers.” The cloaked creature took a few steps forward, a noticeable limp and metallic tapping indicating that its left-hind leg was a prosthetic of some kind. “Surrender, and no harm will come to you or the person you are looking for. I swear on my Truth as an Inheritor. Resist, and we will do our best to leave you with broken bones at worst, but we can make no promises.”


    The former Seeker had no idea what the significance of that oath was, but it Understood perfectly that it meant exactly what it said. It was also right about its feathers, Sunny was carrying enough extra water weight that a proper takeoff would take far longer than normal. Much too long to escape a predator naturally adept at hunting birds.


    “Okay. You win.” Sunny-Plume sighed and folded its wings. “As long as you can promise that Apprentice Quiet-Dream will not come to harm.”


    “Firstly, you are in no position to make demands, but I guarantee you that the ‘squirrel’ is being made as comfortable as it can be.” The creature took another limping step forward, revealing the tip of a scaled reptilian snout beneath the cloak’s hood. “Secondly, we have not won yet. We have simply managed not to lose.”