A canon-divergence fic that began when Heather awoke on her first night at Cloud Mountain to see a stranger roaming the halls. Updates each Wednesday.

Emma led them down a long hallway opening into a large round room with three doors, a barrel in the center. “This is Hallway Round,” she said, smiling at the green-clad guards and leading Heather and Picket through the door to the left.

Sunlight blazed on Emma’s fur as she stepped outside. Heather squinted against the light, seeing an open, bowl-shaped green space. Stony peaks protruded from the surrounding hillside, and mist wreathed the edge of the mountain, making it a world of vivid whites and greens and blues.

The sudden transition from the dark tunnels made her a little lightheaded. Emma kept walking, so Heather followed, looking around at the hedge-lined paths, the gardens, and the many rabbits at work and play. It was all so normal, so serene, as if there wasn’t any danger anywhere in the world.

Looking back at the door they’d exited by, Heather saw only a rocky hillside. The tunnel, and all the other passages and halls in the mountain were hidden. How far do they go? What secrets are in this mountain? She shivered, recalling her experience. There were a thousand possible tales in such a place. Perhaps when she met the storyguild they could tell her some of them.

She realized that Picket and Emma had gone ahead and rushed to catch up. Emma was greeting a lanky, shear-wielding rabbit. He waved his shears in emphasis of some point, and she laughed.

"Heather, Picket, this is Heyward, the one responsible for these crooked hedges,” Emma said, smiling.

The rabbit sighed, scowling at the hedge. “It’s quite true.” He eyed the hedge, opening his shears as if to attack it. “I suppose I’ll have to cut them down and start right over!”

Heather held up her hands in alarm. “Please don’t!”

"It’s really all right, Heyward,” Emma said. “They’re as perfectly straight as ever. Please, don’t let us keep you from your work.”

Heyward smiled briefly, then hustled away, clipping off slightly protruding twigs as he went.

Emma smiled ruefully. “Heyward’s very, um, devoted to his work. As are many of the rabbits here, but especially him.”

"He’s a nut and everyone knows it.”

Heather jumped in surprise. The voice had come from behind her, where she’d just been looking. “Where’d you come from?” she asked.

The tall gold-grey buck, Kyle, she thought his name was, winked. “Oh, I hail from the land of Terralain, land of wonder and mystery.”

Emma sighed. “Not again. Someone call Heyward back! More about hedges, please!”

He smirked at her, and she returned the look with an unimpressed expression.

“Where’s Terralain?” Heather asked.

Kyle winked again. “Nearer than you think.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Emma said. “Terralain’s not real. Next he’ll be telling you that Jupiter’s heir lives in a bubble and governs the rivers with his mind.”

Kyle shrugged. “Terralain’s very real, so I suppose we’ll have to disagree on that, dear Emma.” He smiled easily at Heather and Picket. “Hello again, strangers. My offer of yesterday still stands: if you want some time-wasting or mischief-making, I’m your buck.”

Heather smiled bemusedly, unsure how to react. He lowered his voice and smiled mischievously, looking sideways at Emma. “She doesn’t want you spending time around me, so I’m going to drag out this conversation as long as I can. Do you want to know where Jupiter’s heir really is?”

Heather and Picket nodded. “Oh no,” Emma said. “Don’t let the rascal fill your heads with his nonsense.”

“This is reliable info,” Kyle began. “I’ve learned that Jupiter’s heir is being kept hidden in the Deep Belows, the labyrinth of tunnels beneath Cloud Mountain.”

Heather gasped. He nodded. “It’s very true. Have you heard the rumors of a cloaked rabbit roaming Cloud Mountain? You see, he’s the lord of Cloud Mountain, going to see the heir. They keep him in a hidden room because he’s very sick: delirious and mumbling. A scribe keeps vigil recording everything he says, because they’ve discovered that it actually comes true.”

Heather looked Kyle in the eyes, trying to determine whether he believed what he was saying. He met her gaze earnestly. She knew that the cloaked rabbit was very real, so was the rest of his story possible?

“Where is he?” Heather’s storyteller’s brain was filling with possibilities. What if the rabbit she’d followed had been Lord Rake, going to meet with the secret heir? If she’d kept up, would she have found the Green Ember?

Kyle shrugged. “Like I said, somewhere deep under the mountain. It’d be practically impossible to find him in that maze, since only the cloaked rabbit knows the way.”

Heather opened her mouth to ask another question. “Heather!” Emma tugged on her arm. “We’re running late and we don’t have time for this foolishness.” She looked back at Kyle, raising her eyebrows. “Good day, you rogue.”

He bowed jokingly. “Good day, Emma, Picket. If you ever want to hear more, Heather, just ask.”

Emma sighed, walking briskly down the path. Picket struggled to limp fast enough to keep up, but Heather trailed behind, thinking again about the dark tunnels of Cloud Mountain.

“Please don’t listen to him, Heather,” Emma said, glancing back toward Heather. “Kyle doesn’t tell the truth. He once tried to tell me that he was really the true king’s secret heir, so sincerely that I actually started to believe it. He’s good at pulling you in, but not so good at delivering on his word.”

Heather made a noncommittal noise. She found herself wanting to keep talking to Kyle, letting herself be drawn into his stories whether they were true or not.

“No one else tells us anything anyway,” Picket huffed.

Emma sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated too. The law of initiates prevents me from telling you everything. We’ll get you answers, but it should be from the right sources. Your situation is, well, unique.”

Heather opened her mouth to ask why, exactly, but she was cut off by a chorus of screams. She turned to the source, a tree on the green surrounded by onlookers. Emma ran toward it, and Heather followed.

As Heather ran, she could see flashes of action behind the watching rabbit: the rabbit in black from last night fighting swinging models. Multiple times, the models converged and he looked doomed, but rabbits were suddenly fighting with him. She ran faster, recognizing Smalls and Uncle Wilfred and knowing she wouldn’t arrive in time to be of help. As Emma and Heather finally reached the crowd of surrounding rabbits, the fight was over.

Smalls was on the ground, being treated by doctors, and Lord Rake, who’d just arrived, was berating the black-clad rabbit. Picket, panting, came up behind Heather. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. The rabbit in black was fighting those model-things, and then Smalls and Uncle Wilfred came and helped him. Emma’s over there helping treat Smalls, but he doesn’t look too hurt.”

“Should we go over?”

“I don’t know.” Heather looked over again, catching a glimpse of Smalls standing face to face with the black rabbit, hand over heart, before he turned and walked away, Uncle Wilfred supporting him. The black rabbit’s face contorted in emotion before he also turned, striding away from the other rabbits. Heather stared, wondering what was going on.

As Emma came back with another doctor—an older, funny-looking buck with a silly accent who began inspecting Picket’s foot—Heather realized that there was nothing for her to help with. She sat, leaning back on the thick grass and staring up at the clouds. There were so many rabbits and so many stories here. It was too much. She closed her eyes, realizing how tired she felt.

Behind her closed eyes, memories flickered—the magical colors of Lighthall, the silver and gold of candlelight in moonlit tunnels, conversations with fascinating strangers. Had the world always been this large? Before arriving at Cloud Mountain, Heather had learned about the dangers the world held, but she’d found so many beautiful things here. Still, the more she learned the more mysteries piled up.

Before all of this had happened, what had Father meant to say about the fall of Jupiter? Why did the rabbits of Cloud Mountain look at her and Picket so strangely? Was Kyle’s story true? And most importantly, who was the cloaked rabbit and what was he doing wandering Cloud Mountain?

There was still more to discover, and Heather wanted to know all of it. And now, as she opened her eyes again, her gaze focused back on the stone of Cloud Mountain. There was a foolish, compelling idea growing in her head.

A/N: Since Heather slept late, they got down to breakfast later and the timing of where they were during Helmer's tree practice was different. Next chapter, the canon divergence really kicks into gear :)