Chapter 26 – Sideways Secrets

In the week that followed, Wyatt’s visits became the bright spot of the Shy children’s evenings. The more intrepid of them, led by Fenn, would sneak out from under Eryl’s care and press their tiny faces against the mesh, eagerly waiting for the boy to appear with treats or his latest creations.

At night, when the adult humans had left for the day, Wyatt stayed on. Since the workshop’s production had remained steady and there were no further attempts at escape or rebellion from the Shy, the adults were content to leave the locking up to the boy.

With the coast clear, the rest of the Shy children emerged from the safety of their creche. Some made a beeline for the playground or Wyatt’s offering for the evening, while others gathered around Sylven, begging him for more stories from the caldera. Wyatt would sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the cabinet, idly listening while whittling at some wood.

Sylven spun tales of the sunlit grasslands, where the wind carried the sweet scent of wildflowers and the sharp tang of brewing storms. He spoke of riding his pika mount Uiska, their bond allowing them to anticipate dangers and coordinate movements as one. He described thrilling encounters with creatures far larger than himself. “There was this one time I came close to being a kestrel’s dinner,” he boasted. “It swooped down, talons out. I barely had the time to dive under cover.”

The children gasped, their tiny hands clutching at their knees.

“A kestrel?” Lyssa echoed, bouncing on her heels. “What’s that?”

“A bird,” Sylven said. “Huge wings, sharp beak. They soar higher than you can imagine, looking for anything small enough to snatch up. But they can’t outsmart a clever Shy.”

“Tell us more about the mounts!” Fenn asked. “Can they really run and fly faster than even the humans?”

“Of course,” Sylven said. “But not for too long. Pikas like Uiska sprint in bursts of a minute or so. But out on the grasslands, they’re not just quick, they’re also smart enough to know best where to run, where to hide. I’ve ridden Uiska through open fields, dodging wildcats and weaving around snakes.”

Lyssa shuddered. “S-s-snakes? They sound scary.”

Sylven nodded solemnly. “Big, long, scaly creatures. They can poke holes in the Shyways sometimes. You must be quick to avoid them, or quiet enough that they don’t notice you coming, then you can take them by surprise. That’s why scouting skills are important. I could teach you some, if you’d like.”

The children cheered, their excitement infectious. He taught them simple techniques—how to read the direction of the wind, listen for the subtle signs of approaching predators, and spot useful hiding places. They could have gone on until morning with all their questions and enthusiasm. As the night wore on Sylven had to enlist the parents’ help to drag their reluctant kids away to bed, their protests trailing off into yawns.

Wyatt seemed to have picked up enough of Shy speech by that point to follow the lessons with genuine interest as well, an observation not lost on Sylven. As the human boy was about to stand up and walk away, Sylven walked toward the cabinet door and called out to Wyatt.

“You’ve gotten quite good at understanding us, haven’t you?” Sylven asked.

Wyatt nodded, his expression serious.

“You’re not doing it just because you’re working for the others?” Sylven continued to probe. “You really care about us?”

Wyatt quickly shook his head no at the first question. Then nodded emphatically at the second. “Little Shy…” he said softly. “My friends.”

Sylven studied the boy for a moment, then said, “If you want to keep helping, we’ll need to trust each other. That means no secrets. If you know anything about your dad, Garrett, you need to tell us.”

Wyatt hesitated, his fingers tightening around the unfinished figure he was carving. As he put it aside, Sylven recognized the curves of a kestrel emerging from the wood.

Finally, the boy nodded. “I will tell,” he said, his voice heavy with the burden of past secrets.

As he began to speak, the other Shy gathered around the human, their curiosity piqued. Wyatt’s knowledge and cooperation could prove to be the missing piece in their plan.

The boy’s speech was halting, but they could sense the weight being lifted off his young shoulders now that he could openly share his story. The Shy listened closely, with almost all the adults in attendance. Sylven leaned against the cabinet door, watching both the boy and the workshop door with keen eyes.

“My Papa…” Wyatt began, his voice barely above a whisper, “When he worked here... he was… always sad. Always... worried.”

Wyatt fidgeted under all the attention, actively restraining his limbs from making large gestures. “He said, Shy are different but not like... animals. Just... smaller humans. I see that now too. But…” He trailed off, a pained look in his eyes.

“What did the other humans think?” Sylven prompted.

Wyatt’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Papa said that the other man—Griff—was very bad. Hurt the little ones,” his voice trembled as he looked at all the Shy gathered around him.

“Papa hated that. He said to Griff that Shy are people. Not... slaves,” the word tripped uncomfortably from his tongue. “Griff and Papa were friends before, but no more.”

The room fell silent at Wyatt’s words.

“If he hated working here, why did your papa stay?” Sela asked gently, breaking the tension.

Wyatt shrugged, his shoulders slumping. “No choice. Needed work to take care of me and Mama. But Griff… made work hard. Made him feel bad about Shy. So… he stayed to keep Shy safe from Griff.”

“He told you that? Taught you about… all this?” Ilkin probed, waving his hands around at the cabinet for emphasis.

“Papa said… he wanted me to know about his work. Said I must learn Shy words, how to help at workshop. I wanted to make him proud, so I learn fast. Overseer was impressed,” he allowed himself a small smile of pride.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Sylven raised an eyebrow. “He wanted you here? To watch over and talk to us?”

Wyatt nodded hesitantly. “Yes. Papa said I must be ready, just in case. Must work to help Mama. Keep overseer happy with Shy work so they don’t hurt you,”

He looked back down at his half-carved kestrel, avoiding their gazes. “Papa said, Shy need us to be safe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn scrap of paper, its edges frayed and smudged with fingerprints. He unfolded it carefully, smoothing it out on the floor, revealing a hastily scrawled message in large, uneven human script.

Sylven exchanged a glance with Sela, who nodded. They approached the piece of paper, which was the size of a carpet to them. Mara, Alvon and Brynnal followed close behind.

Alvon’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. “I recognize this paper. It’s the same kind that Jerrik used for his scribblings,” he whispered to the group.

Wyatt tapped the note, his brows furrowing. “Papa… left this,” he pointed at the writing. “You can read?” he asked the gathered Shy.

Sylven squinted at the human words, but it was Mara who spoke up. “Let me see.”

“Go ahead,” he stepped aside. “You’re the best at understanding human writing among us anyway.”

Mara translated the note aloud for the others.

“My dear son Wyatt,

I believe that you are the best person for this.

Take care of the little ones.

Tell the overseer that

I taught you everything, the best that I could.

Show this to them so they trust you.

Keep safe until I return…

Your Papa”

Mara paused at the end, her voice trailing off as she watched the others’ faces.

While Mara read, Sylven examined the rest of the note. He noticed one detail worth pointing out. By looking at the three dots on the final line intently, or from the close-up perspective of a Shy, two of the dots were actually small, crude drawings of rats.

Brynnal eyes widened at the hidden figures. “Two rat squeaks! That was Jerrik’s signal.”

“What does that mean?” Mara asked, frowning as she walked over the paper, trying to tease out any more secrets.

Alvon shook his head, his voice heavy with emotion. “It means Garrett was a lot more involved in Jerrik’s escape than we thought.”

“It’s true, then,” Brynnal said hoarsely. “Garrett wasn’t just another human. He helped Jerrik. They were working together.”

“But why would Garrett leave Wyatt, his family, behind?” Sela asked, loud enough for the boy to hear.

Wyatt’s head hung low. “Papa… promised to come back. Made me promise to work to keep Shy safe until then.” He stroked the letters with his hand as if reassuring himself that they were real, the last memento left by his father. Mara reached out to pat his finger in sympathy.

“Oh. But… wait!” Wyatt cried out, stretching the paper flat on the floor. “I think… More words here. But I cannot see. Too small! Papa said… only Shy can read.”

Mara stepped aside for a better view, allowing Sylven to approach the note from the side. The human writing loomed large, but as his eyes scanned the writing from a different anlge, something caught his attention. Almost imperceptible, but recognizable symbols, tiny even for a Shy, were what made up parts of the human letters. He leaned in closer, his vision blurring from both strain and shock.

“There’s Shy script hidden here!” Sylven exclaimed, pointing out the vertical lines in the letters T and I.

“What! Where?” Brynnal shouted in disbelief, stepping forward to look closer.

Sylven read aloud, his voice steady despite the weight of the words:

“To my Shy kin,

If you are reading this, I am either free or dead.

The human who left this note aids in my escape and journey to our home.

He wants to right the wrongs being done to our kind by his.

If I succeed, I will send help. If I fail, you must carry on.

The day will come when you are free. Stay strong, stay ready.

Jerrik”

The Shy stared at the words in stunned silence. For a moment, no one spoke.

Alvon closed his eyes, his hands clenching at his sides. “You really…” he muttered before clamming up.

As the Shy processed the revelations, Wyatt added more details, piecing together what he’d overheard from his parents’ and other adults’ conversations.

“Papa liked Jerrik… Said he was brave and smart,” Wyatt explained. “But Griff hated him most. Said he... was too stubborn. But also… enjoyed hurting him? Griff said he was the most fun Shy… to punish…”

Sylven exchanged glances with Alvon and Brynnal, their faces heavy with guilt and painful memories.

Wyatt continued, his words slow and deliberate. “When Griff punished Jerrik outside the workshop… he sometimes left Papa alone to guard… that was when Jerrik would talk to Papa. They became friends. Jerrik said he must escape, or he would die. He said he would… bring help. Papa wanted to help… but Griff…”

“Griff found out,” Sylven guessed, his jaw tightening.

Wyatt nodded. “I think… Yes. Hurt Jerrik bad. Then…” He hesitated, his eyes darting toward the floor. “One day, Papa came home early from work. Said Papa and Griff had big fight. Griff hurt Papa, was bleeding. Left us note, said goodbye, then ran away. In a hurry. Never came back. Later, overseer and his men come to our house. Mama talked to overseer, showed note to him. He asked me about Papa and Shy. I showed him I know how to speak to Shy and take care of little ones. They take us and now… I work here. Said Mama and I cannot leave. Until they find Papa… or he comes back.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of the story settling over them.

Ilkin spoke up for the first time that night. “He’s just as much a captive here as we are…”

Sylven took a deep breath, his mind racing. The note, the signal, and Jerrik’s message—all of it pointed to a carefully laid plan that had been interrupted but could still be revived.

“We need Wyatt’s help,” Sylven said finally, his voice firm. “We need a human ally like Jerrik had Garrett.”

Sylven turned to the boy, who was watching them with wide, uncertain eyes. “Do you know what two rat squeaks mean?”

Wyatt frowned in thought, then nodded slowly. “Papa… said it was like… secret knock. Jerrik signal for him.”

“Then I guess we’ll need to practice squeaking like rats for when the time comes,” Sela quipped, rolling her eyes at the idea.

“But Jerrik trusted Garrett,” Alvon interjected. “And I believe that means we can trust Wyatt.”

“Fine, so we all agree now that he’s on our side?” Mara put her hands up in surrender. “He seems to genuinely want to help. He just needs guidance.”

“You don’t think there’s a chance he’ll betray us to the other humans? Or even just accidentally slip up and let them know what we’re planning?” Sela argued. “He sure took his time remembering to show us this note!”

Brynnal stepped forward, facing the group. “We should be ready for the worst that can happen. But we need to take risks, or we’ll be stuck here forever until our children start thinking that this is how their lives are supposed to be.”

Sylven’s mind raced with possibilities. The kobolds’ tunnel, the hole in the cabinet, Wyatt’s revelations—it was all starting to come together. This all added a new urgency to their efforts. He decided it was time to take bolder steps.

Sylven gestured for him to sit closer. “Wyatt,” Sylven said carefully, pointing to the boy. “Friend.” He tapped his own chest. “Sylven. Friend.”

Wyatt put his hands over his heart. “Friend.”

Sylven turned to Sela, who gave him a small nod. Turning back to Wyatt, Sylven pointed back to the creche where the children slept. “They… need you. Like your father.”

“What can I do for little ones?” the boy asked, his voice cracking.

Sylven nodded. “Help us. Be like your Papa.”

Wyatt’s eyes shone with a new fervor. He glanced at the note still lying on the floor, then back at Sylven. “Papa was… is…a good man,” Wyatt stated, meeting the Shy’s eyes. “I…want to be a good friend to Shy like him.”

“Yes,” Sylven said firmly. “You’re a good boy, Wyatt. Our friend.”

The boy looked embarrassed by the praise but nodded. “Papa helped Shy. Hid secrets from Griff and overseer.” His face lit up with determination. “I want to help,” he said firmly. “For Papa. For Shy.”

Sylven placed a hand on the boy’s finger. “Thank you, Wyatt. This means a lot to us.”

----------------------------------------

The pieces of the escape plan were falling into place, but questions still lingered. Where had Garrett gone? And most importantly, could Wyatt, a lonely human child, truly be trusted to finish what his father and Jerrik had started?

As the Shy huddled together to refine their plans, Sylven’s gaze drifted back to the deepening hole in the cabinet. His thoughts turned to Vikka and Uiska, and a cold dread tightened in his chest. He had no idea what the humans had planned for them all, but he had a sinking feeling that they were somehow running out of time.