Evacuation
––––––––
WREN STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of her treehouse, looking at everything she'd built over the past month, and tried not to cry. "It's just a week," she told herself firmly. "One week, and then you come home."
But the warnings had been dire. Multiple people had told her stories about properties destroyed, shields failing, people who'd stayed and died. The autumn migration was the worst one, the largest herds, the most dangerous monsters.
She had to leave.
Walter scurried around, helping pack. "Practical items first, madam. Clothes, tools, your journal."
Everything went into her magic purse—the leather bag that could hold impossibly much.
Her cotton work dresses, the beautiful green velvet gown, her new boots.
The journal documenting all her plant experiments, her writing materials.
The property guide Viktor had given her (useful, even if she didn't trust him).
The wash drum could stay, because it was too large, too replaceable.
..but she did drag it inside for extra protection.
Seeds. She needed seeds from every plant.
She went outside and methodically harvested from each tree and plant. Breadfruit seeds. Silk tree seeds. Milkweed. Eggplant. Soapberry. Tea tree. Every single variety, carefully labeled and stored. If the worst happened, if everything was destroyed, she could start over. She'd done it once already.
The dandelions watched her work, golden eyes solemn. They understood something was happening. "You're coming with me," she told them. "All of you."
The horse chestnut stood near the gate, patient as always. She'd grown attached to it—him?—over the past weeks. The loyal wooden horse who never complained, never tired.
Horses appeared at her gate. Jin and Kenji, doing their rounds.
"Ready?" Jin called.
"Almost."
She took one last walk through her property, at the kitchen garden she'd carefully organized.
The trade goods section had been so profitable.
The decorative area with its pond and water lilies, the chocolate vine climbing the treehouse wall.
..she would miss them. All of it was so vulnerable, so potentially temporary.
She touched the treehouse wall. "Stay standing," she whispered. "Please stay standing."
Jin approached quietly. "Ready?"
"Right. Yes." Standing there mooning wouldn’t help.
Walter appeared on her shoulder. "Ready when you are, madam. Though I should mention that I'll be staying with my cousins in town during the migration. Squirrel protocol."
"Of course. Stay safe, Walter."
"And you, madam." He touched his tiny paw to her cheek, an unexpectedly tender gesture. "The farm will still be here when you return. Different perhaps, but here."
He scurried off toward the trees, disappearing into the squirrel paths.
She mounted up. The dandelions fell in behind the horse chestnut, its wooden hooves clopping steadily. Everything would be okay.
Jin fell in beside her, giving her an encouraging smile.
Kenji took rear guard with the dandelions. "Your dandelions are very well-behaved," Kenji observed. "Also slightly terrifying."
One of them snorted, and Kenji laughed nervously.
The ride to town was quiet. Wren kept looking back at her property until it disappeared from view.
"First migration?" Kenji asked gently.
"Yes."
"It's always hard. Leaving your home to the mercy of monsters." His tone was sympathetic. "But you're doing the smart thing. The people who stay... they don't usually make it."
That was not comforting.
The Zhao house appeared ahead, and Wren saw Mei-Lin waiting on the terrace, waving enthusiastically.
"You made it! Come on, let's get everyone settled!"
The next hour was organized chaos. The dandelions were led to a secure back garden where they could patrol safely. The horse chestnut was stabled with the family's horses, and it seemed content standing quietly in the corner. The hen and chicks were stored carefully in Wren's room.
The guest room was small but lovely, with a luxurious bed, a wardrobe, a window overlooking the town, and privacy.
"Thank you," Wren said to Mei-Lin. "Really. This is generous."
"Are you kidding? I'm excited! It's like having a sister visiting." Mei-Lin bounced on the bed. "We can stay up late talking, and you can tell me all about Jin's obvious feelings for you that he refuses to acknowledge."
"Mei-Lin!"
"What? It's true! He's been impossible lately, all broody and protective." She grinned. "Mother's noticed too. She doesn't like it, but she's noticed."
Speaking of which, Zhao Lin appeared in the doorway, perfectly composed. "Miss Wren. I trust the room is acceptable?"
"It's perfect. Thank you so much for having me."
"Mei-Lin insisted. And it's practical, since we have the space, and you need somewhere safe." Her tone was neutral, not warm but not hostile either. "Dinner is at six. Please join us." She left before Wren could respond.
"That's progress," Mei-Lin said. "She's being polite. Last week she was barely civil."
"Your silk commission helped," Wren admitted. "It's hard to hate someone who provides quality goods."
"See? Capitalism conquers all!" Mei-Lin stood. "Come on, I'll show you where everything is. And then you can help me convince Mother to let me open that bakery I've been planning."
"She doesn't want you to?"
"She thinks it's beneath us now that we're 'established.'" Mei-Lin rolled her eyes. "But I'm lucky, remember? I know it'll succeed. I just have to wear her down."
As they walked through the house, Wren caught a glimpse of Jin in the courtyard below, settling the animals. He looked up, met her eyes, and gave that small nod.
Safe. They were all safe.
Now they just had to wait out the migration and hope her home survived.
***
DINNER WAS AN ELABORATE affair, much more formal than Wren had expected.
The dining room was beautiful, with a polished wooden table that could seat ten, though tonight it was just the family plus Wren. There were candles in elegant holders, fine dishes and serving platters arranged with care. Zhao Lin clearly took pride in proper presentation.
"This is lovely," Wren said as she sat. Mei-Lin had helped her change into one of her nicer dresses, though she felt underdressed compared to the family's formal attire.
"We maintain standards," Zhao Lin said, serving soup with practiced elegance. "Just because we're facing a crisis doesn't mean we abandon civility."
"Mother believes dinner is a sacred ritual," Mei-Lin said, ladling soup into her bowl. "No business talk, no arguments, proper manners."
"It's served us well," Zhao Wei said mildly. "Wren, how are you feeling about the migration?"
"Anxious. Hopeful. Trying not to think about it too much."
"Wise approach." He accepted bread from Jin, who'd been quietly helping serve. "The reality is, most properties survive. Damaged, yes, but standing. Your treehouse is solid."
"The shield concerns me more."
"The shields are designed to flex under pressure," Jin said, speaking for the first time. "Complete failure is rare. Damage is common, but catastrophic collapse..." He paused. "It usually only happens with poor maintenance or very old systems."
"Or sabotage," Kenji added from his seat beside Mei-Lin. He'd been invited to dinner as well, given the danger.
Everyone looked at him.
"What? We're all thinking it. After the frost incident and the rumors, it's not a stretch to worry about Lyra tampering."
"Kenji," Jin warned.
"I'm just saying! That frost was targeted, we all know it. And now conveniently there's a massive migration coming through." He shrugged. "If I were a vindictive weather mage, I'd absolutely use this as cover."
Zhao Lin's expression tightened. "If Lyra has truly escalated to property destruction, that's a matter for the Marshall to handle. Not dinner conversation."
"Sorry, ma'am."
But the damage was done. Everyone was thinking about it now.
Wren pushed her soup around, appetite fading. "If something happens to my property, can it be proven? Sabotage versus bad luck?"
"Depends," Jin said carefully. "If there's clear evidence of tampering, yes. If it looks like natural damage..." He met her eyes. "We'd investigate thoroughly. But proof is difficult."
"So she might get away with it."
"She might." His expression was hard. "But she's getting reckless. Overconfident. Eventually she'll make a mistake."
"Before or after she destroys everything I've built?"
The table went quiet.
Zhao Wei broke the silence gently. "Wren. Worst case scenario—everything is destroyed. You have seeds, yes?"
"Yes."
"And you have business connections now. A distribution partner." He smiled slightly. "And you have friends. Support. You wouldn't be starting from nothing like you did a month ago."
"That's right," Mei-Lin added. "Last time you were alone, scared, and had no idea what you were doing. Now you're experienced, connected, and," she grinned, "—you have me! So you're basically unstoppable."
Despite everything, Wren smiled. "Thank you."
"Also," Kenji said, "your dandelions are terrifying and I'm pretty sure they'd eat Lyra if given the chance. So you have that going for you."
"Kenji!" Zhao Lin's voice was sharp, but there was the tiniest hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Sorry. No violence at dinner. I forgot."
The mood lightened. Conversation shifted to safer topics, like town gossip, business prospects and Mei-Lin's bakery plans.
Wren found herself relaxing, drawn into the family's easy rhythm. Zhao Wei's quiet wisdom, Mei-Lin's bright enthusiasm, Kenji's irreverent humor, even Zhao Lin's exacting standards had a certain comfort to them.
And Jin, sitting across from her, occasionally met her eyes with that serious, steady gaze that made her heart flip.
After dinner, they moved to the sitting room. Zhao Lin served tea while Mei-Lin convinced everyone to play a card game.
"I'm lucky, remember?" she announced. "So I'll probably win."
"That seems unfair," Kenji complained.
"Life's unfair. Deal the cards."
They played for an hour, laughing and being competitive. Mei-Lin did win, twice, much to everyone's exasperation.
As the evening wound down, Wren found herself on the terrace with Jin, looking out at the darkening sky.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For helping today. For bringing me here."
"It's my job."
"Is it?" She looked at him directly. "Is that all this is?"
He was quiet for a long moment. The sounds of the house behind them—Mei-Lin's laughter, dishes being cleared, Zhao Wei's low voice.
"No," he said finally. "It's not all it is."
Her heart stuttered.
"But with the rumors, with everything happening..." He met her eyes. "I don't want to make things harder for you. Give people more to talk about."
"I don't care what people say."
"You should. Reputation matters here." His expression was conflicted. "And I won't be the reason yours is damaged further."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying..." He looked out at the town, jaw tight. "I'm saying I'm trying to be patient and do the right thing. But it's getting harder."
The admission hung between them, fragile and honest.
Before Wren could respond, Mei-Lin's voice called from inside: "Wren! Come help me convince Mother that your pie plant proves baking is a legitimate magical skill!"
Jin smiled slightly. "You should go. My sister needs backup."
"Jin..."
"Later. After the migration, after everything settles." He looked at her with such intensity it stole her breath. "We'll talk then. Properly."
He went inside, leaving her on the terrace with her heart racing.
After the migration.
She hoped there would still be something to come home to.