A Shortcut to What?

[Vera Silvertooth]

Vera paced back and forth in the cooks? sleeping quarters just off the kitchens. Fishlug, Clus and the others were out in the kitchen, laughing over their drinks and gambling as usual during their break. Vera had intended on taking a nap, but sleep fled from her.

Hylan was alive.

Hylan was a slave.

Never in her life had Vera felt so much joy and so much sorrow over one single thing. She?d long given him up as dead and had tried to banish him from her mind because the memory of his laugh, and the jokes, and the way he helped her feel like somebeast cared for her had been just too painful.

Here he was, trapped in hell.

The Hylan of Dead Rock was a ghost of the beast she?d known.

She choked back another sob. Has he been a slave this whole time? Stuck in that mine? While I was at The Staff and Flask and working at Fort Blackfur, was he here? How could anybeast survive that long under those conditions?

Vera forced herself to take a few deep breaths. It doesn?t matter. The past doesn?t matter. What matters is now. Now. How can I help Hylan?

She walked over to her pallet and sat down. She looked at her paws, which the squirrel Crue had tended to earlier in order to whisper her message.

?Do you know Robert? Tell him Crue has a plan,? Vera had whispered to Hylan. Seeing Chak back in the role of a slavedriver had made her wary of passing Crue?s message to him and she had no clue who Robert was at the time, but Hylan had nodded at the name.

Vera lowered her paws onto her lap. Her eyes were drawn to her apron. She still wore the tattered, stained, blue apron she?d been wearing the night of the attack on the Silver Maiden. She picked at a rip in the fabric. It was as tattered as she felt. Shifting her position, she reached behind herself, untied it, then slipped it off. Leaving it sitting on her pallet, she went out into the kitchen where, several unused aprons hung. The pirate cooks usually grabbed a clean one when what they wore got too filthy. She picked a clean green one that looked about the right size. Clus glanced at her once, then turned back to the dice on the table.

Back to their quarters she strolled with apron in paw. She returned to sit upon her pallet and examined the apron carefully. It had two sizable pockets in the front and it was of two layers of fabric much like her old one. She hopped up and slunk across the room to where one of the other cooks slept. He had a small sewing kit in his belongings and she borrowed a needle, a length of thread, and a small set of shears. Sitting back down, she got to work modifying the apron to her liking.

As she stitched, she thought back to the hurried, whispered conversation between Hylan and Robert. Hylan had introduced her to the hedgehog Robert, but something in Hylan?s eyes worried her. It was as if he wanted to make sure Vera knew who else to turn to if something were to happen to him. The brands on his face and his missing tail were a testament that Hylan was not a meek and pliable slave. Those were two words that never would have described the Hylan of her past.

She thought back to what Hylan and Robert had asked of her. Some way to poison the pirates. She regretted the bag she?d left hanging on a hook in the Silver Maiden?s galley. That bag had contained all her belongings and a small selection of special herbs that one of her previous employers had taught her how to use.

Those herbs were long gone, so Vera had to come up with some way to sicken or kill the pirates, and she had to come up with it fast.

When she was finished with her modifications on the green apron, she reached into the hidden pocket of her old apron and pulled out a pair of clamshells held together with a strip of blue fabric. Folded between the shells, safe and dry from the splashes and splatters of a kitchen day, was the little drawing that had been in Fildering?s pocket. She slid the shells into the hidden pocket and looked at the apron again, turning it this way and that to see if the pocket was too visible. Satisfied with her work, she set it aside and folded her old apron neatly.

Slipping the new apron on over her head and tying it felt oddly strengthening. She smoothed down the front, feeling the rough bump of the shells over her sore paws. It reminded her of the amulet Blade still held, of everything that had happened over the last few weeks, and more importantly, it reminded her of a promise she made to herself.

I?m getting off this island, and I?m taking Hylan with me. I can?t afford to be lost in my own thoughts anymore. For Hylan?s sake, I?ve got to change.

****

Later, Vera stood up to her elbows in the dirty dinner dishes when a pair of weasels walked into the kitchen. She glanced once, then again as she recognized a tattered, patchwork hat on the head of the younger weasel.

Tooley.

?Fishlug, Captain Blade heard y? needed more help,? the older weasel said, his paw on Tooley?s shoulder. ?This here?s Tooley.?

??Bout time Cap?n did somethin?. So short-pawed down ?ere...? Fishlug hollered over his shoulder. ?Clus, let the vixen an? new blood here handle the gruel from now on. She know the ropes well enough.?

?Aye,? Clus said, giving Vera a nasty smirk.

Vera returned a pleasant smile. Good riddance. I won?t miss you hovering over me all the time.

The older weasel patted Tooley on the shoulder and said something to him, then gave him a light shove into the kitchen.

?Git workin? on them dishes, weasel,? Fishlug snapped, which sent Tooley scurrying Vera?s direction.

As he approached, Vera stepped over to make room for him at the wash basin. ?Good to see you, Tooley.?

Tooley looked up at her and blinked a few times. Then a slow smile spread across his face and his posture straightened. ?Miss Vera??

She managed a small smile of her own. ?It?s nice to see a friendly face down here, for once.? She passed him one of the wash rags. ?How have you been??

Tooley took the rag and his shoulders drooped back down. "Oh... I been better." Then he looked back up at her and smiled again. "S'real good t' see ye, though."

?Likewise, Tooley,? she said, and found herself surprised that she actually meant that. She glanced over her shoulder at Fishlug, who glared back. ?Get busy washing,? she whispered, ?Fishlug?ll give you a rap over the ears if you aren?t fast enough.?

Tooley ducked his head as if he expected it to happen at that moment and swished paws around in the water quickly. Vera snorted back a laugh and resumed her own washing.

When the dishes were dry and put away, Tooley looked around, his expression similar to that of a lost kit. ?So, er, what ?m I serposed t' do 'ere??

Vera crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. ?I suppose whatever I tell you to do. Or whatever Fishlug or Clus tell you, but I think you?ll be helping me feed the slaves.? She looked over the kitchen. Fishlug, Clus, and the rest of the cooking crew had retreated to the table where they did their nightly gambling and drinking. ?I usually fetch some fresh wash water from the harbor at this point. There?s no time to do it in the morning.?

Tooley quietly followed her about as she worked through her nightly duties of fetching water and preparing ingredients for the slaves? breakfast. The weasel was very quiet, lost in whatever thoughts rattled around in that head of his. A few times, Vera heard him take a breath as if he were going to say something, or look her way, but each time he frowned and looked back down. More than once, she noticed him fingering his tattered cap.

I should give him my old apron. It?s got enough sound fabric on it to patch that thing up if he wants.

When the gruel pots were filled and set over the low fire that would cook them all night, Tooley finally spoke up. ?Miss Vera? Do ye 'ave any friends??

She had been wiping her knife clean and now she paused. She remembered Plink asking much the same question in the pit when Vera had been certain they were all about to die. She looked at Tooley, who met eyes with her. ?Yes,? she said quietly and laid her knife down on the table. ?I have one.?

Tooley sucked at his lip. ?What made ?im yer friend??

?Well... I guess it started when he stood up for me when nobeast else did. And he watched out for me.? She smiled at the memories. ?Oh, he kept me on my toes, too.?

?Did ?e??

?Yeah, he liked to play pranks, but I got him back sometimes.? Vera leaned back against the table. ?He learned never to steal cookies from me again."

Tooley cocked his head to the side. "Huh?"

Vera closed her eyes, remembering the empty cookie jar, the swaggering, grinning pine marten, the wooden spoon sailing across The Staff and Flask?s common room, and the laughter. She chuckled, shaking her head. "It's a long story. From better times." 

Times I hope we can have again.

***

Next morning, Vera led the way down to the slave cells with Tooley behind her. She gave him brief instructions and pointed to the side of the cells that Clus always handled. She headed to her side. Hylan stood there already, waiting for her with his bowl.

?Who?s the new guy?? he whispered, nodding to the weasel on the opposite side of the room.

She answered in an equally low tone. ?His name?s Tooley. He was with me on the Silver Maiden.? She emptied a ladleful of gruel into his bowl.

?You trust him??

?I don?t trust anyone here.? Vera moved down the line, giving each slave a scoop. Hylan followed just behind them, his ears perked in Vera?s direction, while his eyes watched for signs of the slavedrivers on duty. ?But, Tooley?s not a threat. He?s a bit simple, but I doubt he?d willingly work for Blade.?

Hylan grunted something and tipped back his bowl for a swallow of the gruel. ?Watch your back, Vers. Last thing I want is for you to end up here with us.?

She continued filling bowls, while Hylan kept pace behind the slaves. She watched as he occasionally patted one on the shoulder or bent to whisper something. Vera recognized Robert as she worked and she returned the friendly nod he gave her. Then, she glanced across the room. Tooley worked slower than her, but at least he seemed to be making good time. More importantly, he wasn?t paying any attention to what she was doing. Neither were Chak and the iron mine slavedriver, who stood near the entrance talking.

?Hylan?? she whispered. ?Do you have any more ideas of how I can help get you out of here??

Hylan took his eyes off of the slavedrivers for a moment to glance at her. ?Keep your head down, Silvertooth. Don?t draw attention to yourself. Knowin? I got a friend among the pirates will give me ammo to draw on.?

She glared at him. ?I?m not a pirate!?

Hylan chuckled. ?Fates, Vera, I?ve missed that look. Just don?t throw the spoon at me. I?m too tired to duck and dodge.?

Something tightened in Vera?s chest and she softened her expression. ?What else can I do? There?s got to be something!?

?Without those herbs, I don?t know what else there is. Just, please, be careful! If anything were to happen to you, I?d never forgive myself.?

Vera only had a few bowls left. ?Don?t worry about me.?

He smiled. ?Vers, I always worry about you. I?ve spent this whole time here worrying about you. That ain?t gonna stop.?

She reached the last bowl and filled it. She couldn?t tarry any longer at the cell, especially since Tooley wasn?t done yet. She looked back at Hylan once more as she started to walk away from the cell. He held up his bowl as if giving a toast, and then tipped it back to swallow down the rest.

***

?Miss Vera?? Tooley said beside her.

She looked up from the dishes she was busy washing. ?Where have you been?? she whispered. After feeding the slaves breakfast, she?d sent Tooley to fetch a couple buckets of water from the harbor. That had been well over an hour before.

?Err...? he looked down and scratched at his head for a moment, then straightened and pulled out a piece of red fabric he?d tucked in his belt. It had a pair of teeth marks in it. ?Miss Crue asked me t' give this t' ye.?

?Vera!? Fishlug yelled, making them both jump. ?Git in the supplies and find me them mushrooms.?

Vera dropped the pan she was washing and grabbed the cloth from Tooley?s paw. ?Wash,? she told him and scuttled off to the storeroom.

Once there, she unfolded the cloth and looked at the smudged charcoal writing.

Tomorrow, C.S.

Her breath caught in her throat. Already? Was Crue prepared to go forward with her plan? She examined both sides of the torn strip of cloth to make sure there wasn?t any additional writing, then folded it up and tucked it in her hidden apron pocket.

Crue?s ready tomorrow and I haven?t had any time to figure out how to help!

She dug out one of the big bags of dried mushrooms that one of the captains had brought from the mainland a few days before. She opened it up and began sifting through the dried husks. The earthy smell of the mushrooms reminded her of pleasant winter days spent down in the mole tunnels where Loamback had been more than happy to impart his knowledge of fungi to her.

She hesitated as she suddenly noticed a little thing among the mushrooms. Some of the mushrooms were a normal, fine brown color, but every few fungi or so, there was one with a yellowish white streak running through the core.

?Burr, aye, these hur shroomers be bad uns, Miz Vera,? Loamback had said. ?Beasts whom don?t know better picks ?em, thinkin they be the same. They ain?t, boi okey they ain?t. Make a beast sicker ?n sick iffn they eats ?em.?

Vera rummaged through the bag, noticing more and more streaks. There was no way to know which were good and which were bad at this point. It would be best to be on the safe side and just throw the whole bag out.

Wait... This is exactly what I need! How many of these are there?

Vera shifted the whole bag to one side and went searching for the other bags. She found one and opened it up. A quick inventory revealed that all these mushrooms were good.

Am I remembering right about the mushrooms? How ill will they make a beast? Loamback said they?d be sick, but just how sick? I guess I?ll have to experiment before tomorrow. She grinned. And I know just who to test them on!

She grabbed a pawful of the bad mushrooms and tucked them in the hidden pocket of her apron, making sure the bulge didn?t show. Then she retied the mouths of the mushroom bags and hid the bad one behind some other supplies. Picking up the bag of good mushrooms, she returned to the kitchen.

?What took ye!? Fishlug yelled as she left the mushroom bag on the table. She ducked under the spoon and scampered back to her dishes.

Vera watched as Fishlug prepared a mushroom soup for part of the lunch for Blade?s beasts in Dead Rock. She couldn?t help but shake her head as Fishlug worked. Those mushrooms will be terribly overcooked by the time he?s done, and he?s using far too much salt.

A couple hours later, it was time to feed the slaves. Tooley loaded the gruel pot onto the trolley, while Vera spooned Fishlug?s mushroom soup into a tureen for the slavedrivers. Bringing food to them was a recent development. The morning drivers had complained of never getting lunch because their shifts ended too late for them to get the food before it was cleaned up. So Vera had to figure out how to cart enough food for the drivers as well as the slaves. Easiest way, she found, was to tie a tray of grub for the slavedrivers to the top of the gruel pot. That left paws free to maneuver the pot up and down the tunnels.

A short time later, they returned to the kitchen to get the food for the sulfur mine?s beasts. When Tooley?s back was turned, Vera dug out the bad mushrooms from her apron pocket and tossed them into the soup intended for Chak and Torin. She gave it a good stir, mixing the dried mushrooms with Fishlug?s overcooked, mushy ones. By the time the soup was actually eaten, her mushrooms would be a nice, plump consistency.

Together, Vera and Tooley pushed the trolley up the tunnel while pirates passed them coming and going. Vera kept her head down as she pushed, trying to figure out just how to tell Hylan about Crue?s message and what she?d done with the soup. She needed to know the effect of the soup on the slavedrivers. If today?s experiment worked, the bad mushrooms could find their way into the food fed to all of the pirates in Dead Rock tomorrow.

As they reached the sulfur mine, Vera instructed Tooley with the scarf over the snout trick and they got in position to feed the slaves. Vera watched as the miserable beasts lined up, looking over the yellow-dusted faces until she spotted the branded face of Hylan. They met eyes and he gave her a quick wink.

Just like he used to do back at The Staff and Flask. But there were no cheeky songs now. No laughter filling the air. She clenched her jaw tight and swallowed.

As Hylan stepped up to her for his bowl of food, Vera glanced down at the ladle in her paw and she had an idea.

Hope this isn?t too hot.

She glanced at Hylan as she raised her ladle of food and missed the bowl, dumping the gruel down the front of her new apron.

She yelped and stumbled back. ?You clumsy idiot! Look at what you did!? she hissed angrily. Tooley stopped what he was doing and stared at her wide-eyed.

Hylan snorted once and she saw him fighting to keep the smile off his face as he cringed back. ?I?m sorry, miss! ?Twas an accident, on my honor it was.?

?Tooley, keep working. I?ll be right back.? Vera glanced around, as if looking for one of the slavedrivers. Neither Chak or Torin were watching, so she grabbed Hylan by the arm and towed him over to where a water barrel sat. ?You better get this cleaned up right now, you understand me!?

?Yes, ma?am. I?m sorry, ma?am. Don?t beat me, ma?am.? Hylan babbled all the way to the barrel.

Vera took off her apron and handed it to the pine marten. ?Sorry,? she whispered. ?Hope this won?t get you in trouble, but I needed to talk.?

Hylan?s eyes flicked to her face and then back down as he whispered back, ?I?ll manage. Nice idea, by the way, if you don?t mind smelling like gruel all day.?

She leaned close as he dipped a little water from the barrel and tried to rinse the worst of the sticky mess from the apron. ?Message from Crue, in the side pocket there. And I put something in the slavedrivers? food. They should be sicker than a kit stuffed with candied chestnuts in a couple hours.?

?Tsk, Vera,? Hylan hissed, as he slipped a paw into the pocket and pulled out the scrap of cloth. ?Don?t you be takin? risks like that.?

?Don?t worry. Fishlug fixed the soup. I just dished it up. A poor vixen doesn?t know a thing about mushrooms.? She batted her eyelids innocently. ?Let me know if it works. I can do it again.?

He shook his head again, but he gave her a little smile. There was something else, too. A darker, more grim light in his eyes that she had never seen before. ?Be careful. And thanks.?

?I suppose that will do,? she snarled as she snatched her apron back from Hylan. ?Get your miserable hide back in line.?

He winked at her, and tucked Crue?s message inside his tattered tunic as he groveled before her. ?Yes, ma?am. Sorry, ma?am.?

She returned to her duties at the gruel pot and gave Hylan a scoop of the gruel. She caught the shadow of a smile on his face as he scurried away.

Behind her on a rough table sat the tureen of mushroom soup for Chak and Torin. She didn?t know if it would slow either of them down, but a few hours would tell.