Ablaze Without Flames

Chapter 8, Part 3 - Felix

The satchels lined the wall, filled with piles of letters tied into neat little packages ordered by areas of the village and cabin order. It was the most organised Felix's satchels had ever been. Sitting cross-legged on his mattress, Felix inked a message onto the back of a blank scrap of parchment, the brush smearing the glyphs and leaving smudges on his hands. He frowned at his fingers when he was finished. He could read well; as well as any kitsune over the age of ten. Writing was another matter. Wishing he had as much control over a brush as his sister, Felix slipped the paper into the first satchel.

Rubbing his hands together to get rid of most of the ink, Felix climbed to his feet and stretched out his back. He had been cooped up in the attic most of the day; with his father back on the market on the condition that Tamsyn went with him, it had been his first chance to get everything ready.

Felix rested his hands on his hips and surveyed his work. The Carriers had returned that morning with four new loads of letters, which he had separated into five different piles, one for each area of the village. When he was preparing for himself, he rarely bothered organised the letters into cabin order as well, but he needed to give Tamsyn as much of an advantage as he could.

At the other end of the room was a complete travel pack. He had managed to procure two unclaimed shoulder-bags from the barn, one filled with the food he had smuggled out of the fields and orchards, as well as a joint of stag meat he had bought from the huntsmen, and one that held spare clothes, a water skin, the bridle, a length of rope and a brush for Firefoot. They had both been prepared for over a week. He also had two blankets rolled together; one to keep the mare warm at night and another to ride on, which he could also use to sleep under.

He knew the sun was beginning to dip and his father and sister would return home for their first rest before long, but Felix dawdled in the attic, staring at the satchels. He hadn't quite come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't be the one to deliver them.

With the shoulder-bags thrown over his back and the blankets rolled up under one arm, Felix slid down the ladder to the ground floor. He had to time his journey perfectly; he had to leave his cabin unseen before his father and sister returned for sunset, and make his way up to the moors while the clan slept.

Pausing at the door to listen for anyone that might be close by, Felix glanced around the cabin. The fire pit was still smouldering from his lunch and Tamsyn had left the salt box out ready to prepare supper. A shawl of hers draped over a cushioned stool where she had sat repairing it the previous evening.

Felix ducked out as soon as there was a break in the footfalls around his cabin. Hesitating in the doorway to be sure no one was close enough to spot him, he crept around the trunk of the overgrown maple, whose roots threatened to crack through the cabin's foundations. The trunk was not thick enough to hide him from view and provided only a short-lived respite while he scouted out his next movement. Never before had he been so grateful to live in one of the newer cabins on the outskirts of the village where he didn't have to watch his back. He did, however, live right underneath the walkway, so he had to keep his eyes up as well as forward.

He crouched behind the neighbouring cabin, pack lying beside him, and listened to the evening activity. Kitsunes packed away their market produce, carried it all back to their cabins where they prepared themselves and their families a small supper before the night's first rest. Felix had, at most, three hours of silence to round up Firefoot, fight her into the bridle and shoulder pack, and get away from the village.

While he was organising his departure in his mind, Felix had considered many times taking a different horse. He understood the skill of riding now, thanks to Finnley, but Firefoot was no average mare. The rules didn't apply in the same way. Rogue Angel or Whiptail would have been a wiser choice, for they were both fast off the heel and attentive to their rider. But they had their own kitsunes, and Felix was no thief.