Irredeemable

[Crue Sarish]

?Oh Gates. His airway?s filling with blood? He?s going to suffocate. I? I?m sorry. I can?t stop this.?

An image of Minstrel appeared as soon as she closed her eyes. His body twitching in Robert?s arms. The spike piercing his neck. The blood seeping down his chin. Those fear-filled eyes?

Crue opened her eyes and took a deep breath. In the privacy of her lean-to she had hoped to rest, to process the death of Minstrel, and to decide what was to do next. Instead, her mind was again filled with memories of the dead. Wearily, she stood up and went to look for someone to talk with.

Robert was already engaged in conversation with Chak a short distance away, and she had no desire to interrupt them. Chak?s only surviving slave, Scrufftail, was sitting at the base of the tree he?d appropriated, sharpening the tip of a short branch and muttering to himself. Having lost a dear friend, she wondered if he, too could use some company. After the storm of words he?d unleashed upon his former captor, it might be nice to spend time with a friendly face.

"I wanted to talk to you, Scrufftail," she spoke as she walked toward the other squirrel.

"Reedox!? he spat, his paws tightly clenched into fists and his eyes closed in frustration. ?My name's Reedox! If I hear that slave name one more time, I'm going to..."

Crue raised her hands in a pacifying gesture. "Easy, now! I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, but you do now." Reedox's tail twitched as he glared at her, his paws balled into fists. Eyes closed, he sighed deeply before stating, "Some beasts forgot their names thanks to that? that? But I didn?t."

Crue's face softened, knowing she could only imagine the life that the squirrel before her had lived. Few ever escaped from a life under the whip, and most ended up dying long before they should have. Every slave-driver treated their slaves differently, but no matter how "gentle" the master was, their station was cruel by nature, and their lifestyle an abomination. She reached out to put a paw on Reedox's shoulder, but he flinched away.

"I don't need your pity, miss," he spat. Lowering his voice, he continue, "Only thing I would find a comfort is to see a dagger between that otter's ribs. Pity neither of you goodbeasts has the stomach to do it."

Crue looked over, seeing Chak speaking with Robert. She then turned her eyes to the two mounds where the most recent casualties had been laid to rest. "I've seen the madness in Chak's eyes. I don't plan on turning my back on him, but it's not my place to kill him. That's not who I am."

The former slave moved in closer, looking her straight in the eyes. His own eyes were hard and angry, the fur all over his body bristling. "I know your type, miss. You're a coward who hides behind your profession, behind your shiny instruments and your plucky bedside manner. You're so respectable, so important, so pristine that no one can help but see a saint!? He kept his volume low, but his whispers felt louder than if he?d screamed at her.

?You only save lives because people love you for it. So what if someone dies? Ah well, you tried your best and get paid all the same. You've never had to fight for your life! You've never had to spend every single day trying to survive, losing yourself in the vain hope that someday you might just get to go home, with part of you knowing that there's no home to go back to anyway.

?No, you?re not going to be the one to get revenge. You?ll judge the beast who does, though, same as you judge the rest of us.?

Crue stood dumbfounded, her eyes searching his for any sign that he didn?t mean what he was saying. How was it that he could cut her to the quick, having only known her for such a short time? All she had wanted to do was comfort her fellow squirrel, to deter him from building a life on revenge, to become a new beast and forge a better path for himself. ?Nimbelton wouldn?t want-?

?Don?t try to tell me what he wanted!? He took a few deep breaths, the pain of loss evident on his face. ?Just leave me alone.?

Reedox left, climbing up into his tree. Crue looked over toward where Robert and Chak were still talking. Robert spared a moment to look in her direction and offer her a small smile. Feeling the need to spend some time alone, she waited until the two finished talking before she approached the hedgehog.

?I?m going for a walk. I won?t be gone long.?

?Jus? be careful. Can?t be losin? ye, too.?

?I?ll keep my eyes open.?

After taking a quick drink from the stream, she set off. The silence around her was only broken by the gentle chirping of songbirds and bugs. Part of her mind ran over the accusations that had just been leveled against her as she headed northwest, while the rest made sure she didn?t go in the direction of the traps.

Why do I do what I do? she found herself asking. Do I really hide behind my profession? Do I really value my possessions more than people? She scoffed quietly? and then really thought about it.

?That ruddy cabin boy constantly ?borrowing? my needles and thread??

?At least I have some willow bark left. Surprised Ren Spindelfur didn?t make a grab for it last week.?

?I do not intend to spend the trip tending to the cuts and scrapes of careless beasts.?

The memories ran through her head, memories of solitude and mistrust, of times when her words were less than kind. During her time on the Sunlit it was all she could think of to get away from her crewmates. Then there was the Zephyr, with its noble captain and fine crew. On that ship she could be as selfish as she wanted? because she was a healer.

About the time she was starting to believe Reedox?s words, the image of a hare jumped to the forefront of her thoughts. The simple act of suggesting an extra helping of food causing her patient to really look at her and see her as more than just a healer. Another hare, struggling to rise after being thrown against the mast, a look of gratitude in his eyes as she assisted him to his feet. The encouraging song of a weasel whose friend had been helped when help was needed. The kind smiles of the hedgehog, who always managed to instill her with a measure of hope.

She may have had difficulty being a friend to them, but at least she could be a good healer. She did care for these beasts. She enjoyed being helpful. She enjoyed making them feel better. She was a healer, and despite what Reedox spit toward her, it was no weakness to value the lives of every beast, no matter how distasteful. She may not have given every beast the kindness they deserved, but that was something she could work on.

Having resolved that matter, she moved on to think about the problems they were facing. She wished Tooley and Plink had not run off on their own, likely getting into all sorts of trouble if they weren?t dead already. What had made them leave silently in the night? She worried that Tooley could be hopelessly lost if he was alone. If Plink was with him, she?d probably taken half his shirt by that point? They could also be dead, with no one out looking for them.

She pushed past several ferns as she considered that Chak was another problem that needed solving. For now, he remained one of the biggest threats to their survival. The otter had some regard for the lives of those who mattered to him, as evidenced by his mourning for Minstrel, but Crue could not be sure how he would treat any other beast.

If a limb can?t be cured, it is cut off to protect the rest of the body. His mind has been poisoned, and there?s no way to know if he can be cured, Crue thought. Poisoned? She wondered if she could find something on the island that would? take Chak out of the picture. Her eyes scanned the nearby landscape.

?No!? she whispered to herself aloud. ?That?s not what we do!? She shook her head violently, casting the notion from her head. Killing Chak? That?s horrible!

She mentally chastised herself for thinking such thoughts for a while longer as she stepped lightly through the grass. Once she was through being shocked by the unwelcome thoughts, she made a decision not to permit any further thinking of murder to enter her mind. She could no more kill another beast than she could sprout wings and fly home.

Time passed and as she was wondering if Chak?s grief was brought on by the loss of a friend or the loss of a valued piece of property, she looked up and saw a fascinating tree. It was a couple of feet taller than her, with leaves vaguely similar to holly and red berries growing from its branches.

?Cherries?? she wondered, judging from the color. ?No, grapes?? She stepped closer and picked one off of the tree. ?Fascinating!?

Unable to restrain herself, she put it in her mouth and bit down. At first she was surprised to quickly discover the rather large pit that lay in the center, but she was able to strip the soft flesh from the pit and found the fruit to be quite enjoyable. It tasted more like a watermelon, but with an added flowery flavor she couldn?t quite put her claw on. ?Rose? Jasmine? Hmm??

She pulled off a few more and savored the flavor before spitting out the pits. Knowing that more food was always welcome, she set about pulling more of the fruit off and stuffing her pockets as much as she could. A few minutes later, she set off, a sudden burst of energy putting a spring in her step. For the time being it seemed like the tiredness she?d felt since arriving on the island was pushed to the side and she could see the jungle - she suddenly remembered the word for this strange forest from one of her books -  with a bit more clarity than before.

Eventually, she made the connection between the cherries and her new-found energy. Her eyes lit up at the thought of discovering this new fruit. Finally! she thought, a positive note in this forsaken place!

She was in the process of taking a drink from a small brook when she heard a strange whistling sound grow louder as it came closer. A moment later, the sound ended with a fair amount of rustling through the undergrowth that ended not far from her. She looked up toward the source of the noise, lifting her head high and sniffing the air. A pair of long, gray ears were visible some distance away, belonging to a head that she realized possessed a friendly face.

?Scully!? she shouted before she could stop herself. She could only hope no savages were within earshot. A grin formed on her face as she did a visual inspection of her crewmate. "Scully, you?re alive! I didn't expect to see you alive! I mean... are you okay? Do you need something to eat?"

Scully?s ears went up a bit straighter, and then drooped again. Crue couldn?t tell what his expression meant, but his eyes lingered on the ground more than they should have considering the happy occasion. She decided to add to the good news in hopes it would cheer him up. "Mister Rosequill survived as well, and so did Plink! She was asking about you, actually. We've made camp not far from here with a few other... survivors, and I'll show you where it's at. It's not much, but at least you'll have friends and food and shelter." She paused, but was met only with silence. "Are you sure you're okay?"

With Scully still not responding, Crue decided to follow his eyes down to the ground. Next to her right footpaw was a straight piece of wood, strangely out of place in the jungle. She reached down to pick it up when the cabin boy?s slightly desperate voice made her pause.

?Stop! Don?t? touch it.?

Crue looked at it a second longer before she judged it safe to handle. She started to pull it from the ground and asked, ?What is this??

Once more, Scully held his paws out in a warning gesture and cried out, ?No, don?t touch it!?

?Why shouldn?t I touch this?? Her brow furled in consternation at his strange behavior, she continued to lift it from the ground. What was so dangerous about a piece of w? An arrow. She looked at the tip of the arrow and was about to brush some of the dirt off of the metal head when she noticed that at least half of it was discolored. It shouldn?t be that color.

She looked up and saw a bow poorly hidden behind Scully?s back. Her mind began putting details and memories together. Wanting to get the obvious question out of the way, she took a step closer to the young hare and asked in a low voice, ?Did you shoot this??

Scully refused to look her in the eye and stuttered out some sort of response that she couldn?t make out. She took another step closer, her anger growing in the wake of his near confession. Pointing at the arrowhead, she asked slowly and deliberately, ?What is this on the tip??

Something changed in the leveret?s eyes. She didn?t have the first idea what it was, but suddenly his eyes were no longer nervous and confused. His voice resolute, he replied, ?Dipping sauce.?

Before she could ask another question, the hare turned and bolted off back in the direction in which he?d come. He was much too fast, and Crue knew she?d never be able to stop him, so she decided to return to camp and inform Robert of what she?d just witnessed.

Turning back to reverse her course, Crue first wondered how Scully had managed to procure an arrow on this island, and her eyes were drawn to the sharp tip. Half of the head was discolored, and not from its trip through the brush. She lifted it carefully toward her nose and caught a distinctive smell that was mousey, but not entirely. Had she not been so careful in her studies, she may never have known that the arrow she held had been treated with hemlock? her hemlock!

?It?s probably at the bottom of the sea,? she recalled Plink saying, a casual shrug lifting the ratmaid?s shoulders.

Gears moved within the squirrel?s mind as memories suddenly fit snugly into place. Plink hadn?t been hesitant to give up the hemlock because she didn?t have it. She never did. The quiet, mild-mannered cabin boy was the one with the sticky paws, the one who had caused her to wonder who might be killed because of Crue?s moment of carelessness. It was Scully?s actions that very well might have led to Plink?s death!

In the midst of her silent tirade, she suddenly noticed that the sounds of the jungle had grown quiet, the songbirds holding their breath in the presence of a stranger. She bent down behind the nearest bush, straining her ears to find out where this stranger was.

Her burst of energy caused her heart to race, her blood pounding in her ears in such a way she wondered if the beast out there could hear it. She did her best to remain calm, but with the added energy those cherries had given her, every muscle was wound taught, her whole being ready to run. Her breathing came faster than she?d like, sounding like a howling gale in her ears in the silence of the jungle.

After a minute or two - an hour by her recollection - she heard faint footfalls very nearby. The beast was good at remaining quiet, and Crue realized that it must be very close indeed for her to pick up on the soft scrape of its paws against the soft grass. She could almost smell it: unfamiliar, but? predatory.

The sound of footfalls ceased. The scent of the predator grew stronger, probably preparing to attack. It was close. Flattening her ears as much as she could, she raised her head over the bush just far enough to see a pair of dark brown eyes staring right back at her.

She froze, unable to do more than stare at the beast before her. It fixed her with an unblinking stare as it stepped slowly around the bush. Crue was mesmerized by the strange pupils in its eyes, set against a face that seemed to be somewhat weasel-like, only with slightly smaller ears. Short tan fur covered its face and the rest of its brindled coat, and its long slender tail swayed gently as it moved. A loincloth was the only form of real clothing it wore, but its wrists were adorned with bracers of some sort of leather? a scaly skin that glinted in the light. Around its neck was a necklace holding what looked like a small skull framed by several large, thin fangs.

The beast advanced slowly, like a predator heads to an easy meal. Its lips parted into a vicious smile, revealing a set of healthy, sharp fangs. Crue took a step back, wondering if she could outrun the beast, but doubting she would get far before the long black claws protruding from its paws reached her.

?Holuh steel,? he instructed, his voice coming out in a low growl as he advanced, now only a few feet away. ?Det hide make good keeft tik mi munga. Mush favah!?

Crue gulped and her hands began to tremble as she thought she made out the words ?hide? and ?good gift.? She gripped the shaft in her hand tighter to try and stop her right paw from shaking so much. With a quavering voice she begged, ?Please don?t kill me!?

?Di rett beastah - she die quicklick eef she ni movah...? He began to pull a long curved knife from the sheath at his waist. His eyes moved from the tops of her ears to the tips of her footpaws and back up, and she watched as a dribble of spit fell from his mouth.

When it was only a few steps away, Crue?s instinct to run finally won out over the fear that froze her. She spun to the left and started to scramble off, but before she could take more than a couple of steps, she was pulled up short. The beast had a handful of her tail fur clutched in one clawed paw and yanked her back toward him. Crue struggled to maintain her balance as she twisted around on her left footpaw, casting her arms out in front of her.

She spun back toward her assailant, noting the gleam of violence in his eye. She was brought inches from his face when she noticed a sudden change in his demeanor. His malevolent expression changed to one of surprise as he looked down. Crue looked down as well, only to see the arrow in her hand sunk several inches into the beast?s chest. He quickly went from surprised to enraged and reached a paw back to strike, long black claws poised to rip her to shreds.

Without thinking, she pushed with both paws, driving the shaft of the arrow further into the beast?s chest. His rage cooled and his arm lowered as his lungs filled up with blood. One of his paws went toward his chest, but he coughed once in her face before he fell onto his back and lay in the grass. He gagged on the blood filling his mouth for a time before he went still and Crue witnessed the life leave his eyes.

She couldn?t move. The ordeal had happened so quickly that her mind didn?t have time to catch up. She stared at the face of the beast, the tongue lolling out to the side between its fangs. The limbs were still and the chest refused to rise. The gaping hole was still seeping. She looked down. The arrow was still clenched tightly in her paws, beads of lifeless blood traveling from her claws down the shaft and falling to the ground.

I did this! her mind whispered. Her eyes flickered from the arrow to the body, back to the arrow, and back to the body, connecting the two objects. I killed it.

?I killed it,? she whispered, her throat dry and her voice shaky. She began to shake her head, the tufts of fur by her ears twitching madly above her. ?No, I don?t do that. No, no, no.?

Before the healer could let her mind pursue this further, her feet began to move. Her claws dug into the soft ground, moving her faster and faster until she was running as she?d never run before. She needed to get back to the camp, back to Robert and the others. She needed help. She didn?t want to be alone. Eventually she remembered that everyone else was in danger, too, and she needed to warn them. Who knew how many more of them were out there? Did they know about her and the other survivors? Could they survive an attack if the monsters came in force? How many more would die? The thought of losing Robert and the others gave her a small boost to her speed.

She crashed through the trees, rushing out into the camp and very nearly falling on her face. Chak spun in her direction first, club at the ready, with Robert following suit a second later. Crue headed toward the hedgehog, wanting to blurt out everything that had transpired, but her voice wasn?t working as it should. Robert slowly reached toward her right paw and took note of the blood that stained her claws.

?What ?n blazes ?appened, Crue?? Robert asked, his voice soft and gentle like a warm blanket. ?Are ye hurt??

She shook her head before she walked over to the stream and began to wash off the blood. Then she reached down and grabbed one of the shells Reedox had collected and used it to wet her throat. After a few healthy gulps, her voice returned enough for her to begin to explain.

?There was a beast in the woods I?ve never seen before! It attacked me and before I knew it?? She looked down at her paws and clutched them to her chest before she whispered, ?I? killed him.?

?Were it jus? the one?? Chak asked, taking a couple of steps closer. ?Was it armed? ?Ow large was ?e??

Crue looked up at the otter. His expression was intense and focused. She was distracted by the feeling that her paws were still sticky, even after having washed them. ?There was just one? big, maybe. About your height. Strangest eyes I?ve ever seen.?

?Was ?e armed?? Chak asked more insistently.

Crue answered, ?Yes.?

At the same time Robert turned to him and said, ?Calm yer whiskers, friend. Give ?er a minute t? collect ?erself.?

"If thar be an enemy force out thar, she don' 'ave time ter collect 'erself. If they be knowin' we be 'ere, we need ter get ter some place more defendable."

?I don?t know if there are more, but I think it?s safe to assume they?re out there.? She cast her gaze toward Chak and looked him in the eyes. Her eyes wide with panic, she told him, ?He was going to skin me? He was going to eat me!?

Robert closed his eyes and shook his head, his mouth curved in disgust.

Chak?s gaze hardened. ?If yer worried ?bout killin? that beast, squirrel, I suggest ye stop. ?E were goin? ta kill ye an? it sounds like ye did the rest o? us a favor.?

Crue blanched at the thought of her act doing anyone a favor. ?But I took a life! That?s not what I do! I? help. I make beasts whole?? Her breathing increased as panic began to set in. Having warned the others, she was now free to break down. ?I? I?? She looked down and could almost feel the blood on her paws once more. ?No, no, no, no, no!?

Robert shook her shoulder gently. ?Crue? Crue Sarish, calm yerself! You?re safe!?

Chak was not as gentle. Before the hedgehog could stop him, he reached forward and cuffed Crue upside the back of her head. ?Snap outta it! We b?ain?t got time fer yer lily-livered babblin? if thar be more savages about.?

Crue?s was shocked out of her state of panic, instantly replacing it with the anger she now felt toward being struck. She glared up at the otter and bared her teeth angrily. ?How dare-?

Drowning out her protest, he loudly stated, ?Better ye be angry wi? me than whinin? like a whipped pup! Ye cain use anger, lass, ye cain e?en use rage.? He bent toward her until his face was scant inches from hers. ?But whate?er t?were ye were feelin? thar, ye cain?t use that.? Her expression softened a bit as she took in what he was saying. She continued to follow his eyes as he stood up, back straight and expression approving. ?Ye saved yerself when ye killed that creature. If ye cain?t do it again, ye?ll not be survivin? long.?

Robert stood up, his voice now filled with anger. ?Kill again? Ye want ?er t? go ?bout the island ?n pick off e?rythin? that looks like it needs killin???

?If it plans ta kill ye, ye kill it firs?. Simple as that. It be time ta survive, an? yer not gonna do that by tryin? ta reason er make frien?s wi? an enemy what be tryin? ta eat ye. Ye ?ave ter decide whuther ye wan? ter live er die.? He looked toward Robert. ?She b?ain?t needin? coddled. She be needin? a tougher 'ide.?

Crue took a deep breath before she stood up to her full height. Chak still had a head and a half on her, but she did her best to stand as straight as he. ?I?m not a killer, Chak Ku?rill? but I don?t want to die, either. I?ll do my best to hold it together.?

?An? if a beast be aimin? ?is claws at ye again??

Her eyes traveled over Chak, then Robert, then Reedox?s tree, and finally to the two graves. ?Can't keep you alive if I'm dead. I'll do what needs to be done."