The Key of Astrea

Moonlighter and Tinman

Acacia City's distant skyscrapers formed a jagged skyline against red-tinged clouds. The evening sun cast abstract shadows through the stone canopy of the Waypoint gazebo. Two men in ornamental armor stood between the treelike columns of the gazebo with their backs to Jenny and Lin. Feather-like scales ran from their shoulders to the tips of their fingers. They each held long halberds, like the ones in Jenny's vision with Astrea. Their helmets were styled in the likeness of a bird's head. Shaded glass visors hid most of their faces. Plates of carbon fiber and a flexible Kevlar-like material covered the rest of their bodies.

One of the guards turned and saw Jenny and Lin in the obsidian bowl. He stumbled backward in surprise. His foot missed a step and he fell hard on his backside. The guard's polearm clattered down the steps.

"Oh, Pat." Lin rushed forward to assist the fallen guard. "Not again."

Jenny and Lin pulled Pat to his feet.

The other guard stood statue still and bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Jenny"—Lin straightened the man's shoulder piece—"this is Pat O'Brien."

"Nice to meet you." Jenny brushed at her dirt-caked clothing before offering her hand. His grip felt like carved wood. "I'm Jenny Tripper."

"It's a pleasure to meet a friend of Lin's." Pat removed his helmet and wiped at his brow. Wispy silver hair blew in the wind. He retrieved his halberd with a heavy sigh that wobbled his jowls and rosy cheeks.

"Pat's worked here as a Songbird for..." Lin started.

"Forty-five years." Pat smacked the butt of his polearm onto the steps as he climbed. "And this Waypoint has seen more use in the last week than in all those years combined."

"Did you see anyone else go through today?"

"Besides you?" Pat stroked his stubbly chin in thought. "Yeah, one of yours. He wore a gray uniform."

"Was he alone?"

"Yes." Pat rubbed his chin and nodded to the other guard. "But Johnny might remember more."

"It's John," the guard corrected. "I remember he had long black hair and a short black beard."

"Sounds like Trey." Lin sucked air through her teeth.

The temperature was dropping fast. Jenny shivered and hugged her arms around her chest. Lin put an arm around her and rubbed her shoulders.

"Johnny's been working here for, what?"

"It's been about—"

"Almost a year," Pat interrupted. "He used to be a soldier, but he moved here to be close to his wife and little girl. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, and it's John." He sighed in frustration.

"Back in my day, things were different," Pat continued. "People looked up to us. We meant something."

"Thank you, Pat, but we have to get Jenny some new clothes." Without another word, Lin led Jenny down the eastern walkway.

"Pat's a sweet man," Lin whispered, "but once he gets started, he'll never stop."

Jenny looked back at the gazebo. "Why are they wearing bird armor?"

"Oh." Lin grew animated as they walked down a path that took them next to a tree with pink flowers. "It's ceremonial. But, back in the fifteenth century, it used to be dangerous to travel. People hired armed guards to protect themselves and their goods. It was common for Waypoint cities, like this one, to provide guards to protect their patrons. The four Waypoint cities styled their gazebos after different trees. And the guards began calling themselves Songbirds.