All the Ghouls Come Out to Play

[Kentrith Hapley]

Nire smiling was never a comforting sight.

Kentrith stood before the desk, his fur growing damp with nerves. He clasped trembling paws behind his back and cursed himself. I shouldn?t have told Marik, should have kept my mouth shut, if only?

?So, you have a friend,? Nire practically purred, and Kentrith froze. Nire nodded behind Kentrith, who turned and saw the fleabitten ferrets he had caught near the nursery. He glared at them. They sneered back, more than happy to cause trouble for him. Just because he had caught them doing something they shouldn?t! The smug looks on their muzzles changed to fear when Nire rumbled, ?For trespassing, these two will be feeding the monsters.? At their squeaks, he smiled widely. ?Feeding them slops, of course.? His fangs gleamed in the sunlight. ?For now.?

He waved a paw to dismiss them, and they scurried out, clutching at each other?s ragged clothes. Kentrith watched them go, his muzzle curled in derision. A huff from Nire brought his attention back around. The lynx flopped down the papers he was holding, and leaned on his desk, his claws steepled before his face. ?I find it interesting that you have befriended a slave,? he continued, his voice smooth and controlled. ?She is quite talented, it?s true, but to have her with you in the wing of suites, well?? Those sharp eyes bore into Kentrith, who tried not to gulp. A chuckle put him even more on edge. ?I?m inclined to have her punished for it??

A tense moment passed with Kentrith using all his might to keep from showing emotion. Nire suddenly dropped back in his chair, crossing his footpaws under the table. ?Probably not, though,? the cat continued, looking disinterestedly out the window. Kentrith knew it was a ruse. Glancing at Kentrith out of the corner of his eye, he added, ?That beating she had earlier was most likely sufficient.?

Kentrith didn?t move. He tried to breathe evenly, his fur prickling. Adeen had been beaten? Had Nire ordered it, or was it somebeast else? Had it been his fault?

Nire?s sigh showed his dissatisfaction with Kentrith?s lack of reaction, and he continued in a disgruntled tone, ?You, however, need to have a lesson.? A mischievous glint returned to his eye. ?I want you to visit the lounge.?

Kentrith couldn?t stop the sudden intake of breath, and he closed his eyes and groaned. He could hear the smug tone in Nire?s voice as he purred, ?Yes, one night should do very well.? Kentrith heard him rise from the chair, and he opened his eyes in time to see the claws descending toward him. Nire patted him on the shoulder in false sympathy. ?Who knows, you might even learn to like it.?

Kentrith refrained from scowling at his boss. His five years as a fighter had never softened him to the toadying masses who paid to rub shoulders with the champions. Nire could probably have picked a worse punishment, but Kentrith couldn?t think of one at the moment.

?May I go?? he ground out. Let Nire hear his anger. He would get his just desserts soon enough. Let him think that he had beaten Kentrith.

?Ah, yes, of course. You need to get back to training, don?t you?? Nire actually moved to the door and opened it for him. Kentrith paused, then stalked out the door, ready to escape, when Nire?s next words raised the fur on his back. ?Keep an eye on that vole of yours. Those who get close to you tend to get hurt.?

The veiled reference to Hargorn made Kentrith twitch, but he continued walking, hoping that Nire hadn?t noticed. He made it to the Drag before he collapsed against the wall, his shaking legs threatening to crumple. He breathed deeply, trying to calm the panic that rose up his throat.

He only suspects Adeen. He doesn?t know about Redwall, he doesn?t know about your plans. He doesn?t know about Marik.

As his pounding heart slowed, his darkness rose up, whispering to him. If he doesn?t know now, it won?t be long. He already is suspicious. If he finds out?

Kentrith?s breath expanded in the back of his throat as it closed off. He could kill Marik.

His head popped up, oxygen flooding his lungs as his fighting instinct rose. He would just have to accelerate his plans, that was all.

*******

Northvale was busy as ever, bustling with beasts eager to see the sights. That was all they ever wanted, no matter if the sights were exotic trinkets brought from upriver, or blood spilt on coarse sands. Kentrith grimaced, then plunged into the throng, waving at the guards as he passed them. He aimed for the area of town where the street vendors stayed. He needed to see a certain beast, one who might give him valuable help, and had possibly helped him in the past.

Unfortunately, the herb shop had closed.

A voice hailing him brought his head around, and he noticed Harbin beckoning him to his store. ?Look!? the rat exclaimed. He waved a leather vest as Kentrith came near, a crane scored into it. The outspread wings echoed Kentrith?s pose at the end of his fight with Direbeast. It was that very pose that had given him his name, coupled with his cry. It was one he had uttered many times over his work in the ring.

Kentrith tried not to wince, and looked the vest over. ?It?s masterfully done, Harbin.?

?I thought so,? Harbin grinned. ?They have a new method to etch images and words into wood and leather. It?s almost like branding! You heat the metal, then press it into the medium to leave a lovely burn pattern.? His pride oozed from every word. Kentrith struggled to keep the bile in his throat. Branding! Don?t give Nire any ideas! The thought of what a brand could do?

Coughing a little to clear his throat, he managed, ?Fascinating. I shall look forward to more such? works of art.?

Harbin beamed. ?Aye, and after the Culling, we?ve plenty to add to our stock. Did you see the Monster of Mossflower fight Hammerpaw? Glorious, wasn?t it??

?Of course,? was all Kentrith could reply. He hadn?t, but he added, ?Quite a spectacle. I?m sure we?ll see more such spirit from her.?

?Without the cheating, naturally,? Harbin chuckled.

?Naturally.?

?And that big rat! Kraken, they called him. I?m thinkin? a squid in the background, with those tentacly things. An? his partner, the rabbit with the huge sword! They took down the weasel brothers t?gether, easy as you please. Good bunch, the lot of ?em!?

Kentrith nodded in bewilderment, then desperately changed the subject. ?Harbin, I?ve run out of some herbs. I?m not as young as I used to be, and some of my wounds,? He rubbed his ear ruefully, ?well, they ache more as I get older.?

Harbin nodded sagely. ?Age catches up with the best of us.?

?Aye,? Kentrith murmured, then continued in a louder voice. ?I noticed that the herb shop had closed, and a clothier took its place. Do you know where Narvi went??

The rat shrugged. ?No. I heard he had run into some trouble, something about using herbs for spells, or some such. Load of rot, I think, but you know how some beasts can be. He closed up two years ago.?

Echoes of ?Witch!? tried to break through Kentrith?s memory walls, but he clamped it down, declaring hurriedly, ?Perhaps the clothes merchant knows. Thank you!?

He turned and took a few quick steps down the street, then forced himself to stop and turn. ?Harbin,? he called. The rat looked at him. ?Let me know first when you get something for the Monster. I want a vest just like that one.? He winked, and was answered by a grin. He continued on his way, hoping that his abrupt departure would be overshadowed by the future sale.

The clothes merchant was more helpful, having bought the building directly from Narvi. The herbalist had directed him to send customers to his new shop, which he did only after enticing them to buy some of his wares. Kentrith exited the store with a new headband, ?to show off the fighter?s ear,? three new pairs of trousers, ?the state of those you have on are atrocious, and, goodness gracious, your only pair?? and directions to Narvi?s new place of business. Looking at the scrap of paper hastily torn from a ledger, he gulped, then directed his steps to the Middens.

The grime seemed to build the farther he walked, and once or twice he noticed a few dirty youths slouch away, making him very glad for the scalpel hidden in his sleeve. He paused a moment in a brighter alleyway to settle his already-regretted purchases over his shoulder and to slip his money pouch down his shirt. He continued further out of the main walkways, and deeper into the boil of Northvale.

He finally reached the new shop, which seemed to be at least relatively clean, and entered it gingerly, glancing around for any danger. A small bell rang pleasantly, and a voice from the back replied, ?Oi?ll be roight thurr, zurr!?

An involuntary smile tugged at Kentrith?s muzzle at the cheery greeting, and the velvety herbalist appeared in a green stained apron.

?Narvi, it?s good to see you!? Kentrith said warmly.

The tiny eyes were lost in wrinkles as a wide smile spread across the face. ?Boi ?okey, it bain?t be true! Owd Kenterit, oi thowt you?m be gonded!?

He reached forward and grasped Kentrith?s paw in his heavy digging claw. Kentrith cringed inwardly at the dirt he could feel transferring, but shook the claw anyway. ?I?ve returned recently. There were just certain things I couldn?t leave behind here.? His half-truth hung in the air, and he dropped the claw, waiting for the kind beast before him to catch it.

Narvi only chuckled. ?Oi reckin thurr be lots o? things callin? you?m back. You?m sure it baint moi yarbs?? The eye twinkled.

Kentrith smiled, but it faded quickly. He wasn?t sure how to approach his next question, so he took a deep breath, then asked in a rush, ?Do you have any willow bark? I?m fresh out.? He cursed silently, his courage failing. As the mole cheerily began rummaging for a bottle in the back, Kentrith shuffled to the table that stood in the middle of the shop, and leaned against it.

?It?s sad that you had to close up,? he commented, tracing the grain on the table. ?It?s a longer walk to get here. As if I don?t get enough exercise!? His poor attempt at a joke fell flat, and he berated himself.

?They?m were thinkin? oi were majickin? moi yarbs, mekkin? beasts grow sick.? A sad chuckle followed. ?If?n oi were majickin?, oi?d make ?em better, not sick.?

Kentrith smiled slightly in sympathy. ?Aye, my mother had a similar experience. The otter holt she sold herbs to had an epidemic sweep through.? The smile disappeared. ?You?re lucky, you only had to move. They killed her.?

?A turrible thing, beasts killin? other beasts.?

Kentrith glanced up sharply, but the mole had his back to the shop, digging in a cupboard for something.

Feeling like a madbeast who saw attackers in every corner, he glanced around, noticing a small symbol in the corner, on the wall just over the dingy window. Stepping closer he peered at it.

It was the Crater symbol, one which appeared on all weapons made in the Crater, and on the slave collars. There was a large difference, however. It had a jagged line cracking it down the middle. Underneath were the letters FTN. Frowning, Kentrith reached out to touch it.

A clatter brought him around, and he found Narvi hastily righting the jar of willow bark he had tipped. ?Hmm,? the mole muttered, ?Oi baint as keerful ?s oi usen.? His claw shook as he swept up the spilled powder.

Breathing deeply, Kentrith strode back to the table. He leaned toward the mole, who seemed to have pulled himself together, then whispered, ?I know it was you who gave me the note, all those years ago.?

He watched carefully, but there was no twitch or other indicator of guilt. ?Whut note be that, zurr?? was the rumbley reply. The heavy digging claws continued assembling his order. Kentrith faltered, suddenly unsure of himself.

?The note? From Dia, the young otter?? Kentrith?s voice grew fainter as he continued. ?She? tried to kill herself, and I helped her escape??

He trailed off, as Narvi stared at him with a blank look in his eyes. ?Baint be knowin? owt of it,? the herbalist said, frowning. ?Owny otters I see ?round yurr be owd beasts. Though, theys be plenny dyin? unner the lynxy-cat. ? He squinted. ?Mebbe you?m thinkin? of summun else??

He held up a package, a square of cloth tied around the willow. Kentrith took it, ears drooping. ?Maybe,? he murmured, discouraged. He thanked the old mole, and left, wondering where he could possibly go next.

Kentrith paused outside the shop, bracing himself against the wall. He reached into his pouch and removed a small cloth, keeping it crumpled to hide the words inked into it. He made a move as if to look at it, but after a moment?s struggle, he forced himself to keep it out of sight, and shoved it back in the satchel Bothan had filled for him. He had the message etched into his heart, anyway.

My garden is beautiful. I planted lilies. Thank you.

The message had been tucked away in the petals of a flower, shortly after she had disappeared. Kentrith had almost dropped the basket of herbs it had arrived in, and his scramble to hide it would have caught anybeast?s eye. It had been pure luck that there were no witnesses.

That bit of cloth was his only hint that Dia was completely free, and that Nire hadn?t found her. Kentrith had been too absorbed in helping Dia escape to track down the author of the previous note, the one that directed them through the scorpion pit. This cloth had proved that she had been assisted. It also implied that the messenger was known to them.

Now, he couldn?t think of where to turn.

*******

His return to his room was hailed by a grinning ferret. The other creature said nothing, only held up a pile of dark brown cloth. Kentrith groaned, eyeing it askance.

?No use whinin? about it,? the ferret sneered. ?Yer late as it is. They been waitin? on you fer an hour!?

Kentrith reluctantly took the pile and shook it out. A canvas vest unfolded, with the Crater symbol embroidered over the left breast. The round border and descending lines were stitched in red, overlaid with a bronze shield, a silver spear, and a golden sword. On the right panel of the vest was his own sigil.

Naturally, Kentrith thought, disgusted. Glaring, he slipped the article on, then slumped away to what would inevitably be the worst night of his life.

His entry into the lounge was hailed by a wave of enthusiastic beasts. The Crater symbol on his vest denoted him as someone of authority. The other was his fighting symbol. Like pike scenting blood, the spectators circled him, clamoring for his attention.

?It?s the Crane!?

?Crane, when will you enter the ring again?!?

?Did you see him against that giant badger??

?I hear he?s training the new slaves!?

A brief silence followed this exclamation, then the clamor began again, louder this time.

?How are the new slaves shaping up??

?Are any as good as you??

?I think that massive rat would squash you.?

?An? that giant sword MacRaff carried! I hear it?s a legend!?

?Mebbe he could lop off that other ear to even ?em out, haw haw!?

?What did you think about that fight between the Monster and Hammerpaw??

?Is the otter clever enough to beat you, ya think??

?Well,? Kentrith sputtered, trying to find one question to answer, ?I? that is, yes, I mean no, maybe somebeast could??

Those clinging to him didn?t wait for his confused answers, only continuing to badger him.

?I ?ope the next bunch give a better fight.?

?Aye, the Drag?ll be emptier t?night.?

?Oy, mebbe they kin catch another badger fer you t? slice up!?

It was a full hour before he could escape to the bar. He slid onto a stool and sighed deeply, straightening the disheveled vest and smoothing his headfur. The motion continued over his half-ear and down his neck as he tried to calm down. The smell that wafted from behind the bar teased his nostrils, and he moved to cover his nose, wishing he could hold his breath.

"Kenny, my friend!" came a voice behind him. Grimacing, he squared his shoulders, then turned to find the tiny bookie, Sly, tugging on his vest. The creature grinned up at him. "I hear you're the one who knows all the dirty details about these dirty beasts, so I was wondering....what do you know about this Monster?"

Kentrith frowned. ?Enough,? he said carefully, wishing somebeast would just give him the details from the Culling. The thought of watching another churned his stomach, but pretending he knew what they were jabbering about was stretching him thin.

?Think she has a shot at being the next champion??

?How would I know that?? Kentrith barked, slamming a clenched paw on the bar. ?I don?t know who holds the title at the moment! I?m too busy training these flea-bitten slaves!?

"Easy, easy there, Kent! I understand, dealing with the flea-bitten is stressful indeed." Sly backed down, ducking his head. "I'm only asking for any bit of info you may know. MacGraff is certainly a fine champion and even friend, with the heart of a fighter and the liver of a drunk, but I've been thinking. Why not have multiple champions in my corner? With two good fighters, I can make twice the copper! And that Monster, well, she really made an impression. On all of us!"

?Apparently,? Kentrith muttered, turning back to the bar, before remembering why that was a bad idea. He clenched one trembling paw, and wished the night were already over. Sighing, he turned back to the vole. ?Honestly,? he told him, lowering his voice in hopes it wouldn?t carry beyond his companion, ?I didn?t even see the fight. I was elsewhere, taking care of some urgent business. I have no idea what everyone is talking about.?

Sly?s eyes brightened with keen calculation, but he didn?t ask after Kentrith?s absence. He eagerly launched into an account of the match that had Northvale buzzing. Kentrith listened with forced interest, trying to keep his mind from the rustic barrels just beyond his reach?

?Then, she spits this tiny fishhook out of her mouth, which she must have kept hidden the entire time, which is why she wouldn?t speak! Then she sticks Hammerpaw right in the eye with it! I wouldn?t wanna have a fishhook anywhere, but in the eye??

That explains the fishhook, Kentrith thought wryly.

?Then, while Hammerpaw?s trying to hold on to his eyeball, she dives for her spear, and then she?s flying through the air, at his back??

And suddenly, Kentrith could see it. The otter, rudder streaming out behind her, crashing down on her target, the spear raised and gleaming, and descending. Again and again.

Except her victim wasn?t a wearat.

And a young fox hid in the bushes beside a far-away, long-ago road, watching helplessly.

Kentrith gripped the bar, the vole?s next words muffled by the rage sweeping through him.

"But she spoiled the fun for the bloodthirsty, bringing up her imprisoned daughter and all of that sad reality. So Nire gives her some love for the crowd, but we've all heard she's been thrown into the cells for cheating. In fact, I heard she's been chained to that stoat that failed her silly escape attempt."

So, even that didn?t work right, Kentrith moaned internally, rubbing his muzzle. The Monster had a daughter? One being held by Nire? A baby, just like Marik. Just like Dia.

He reeled in his seat, trying to find some balance as the vicious, snarling otter in his mind was replaced by a small, hunched figure, the slices she had scored in her own arms seeping her life away.

A paw on his shoulder caused him to jump.

?What?s the matter with you, mate?? asked Sly, looking genuinely concerned. ?Ye?ve gone droopy.? He pointed first at Kentrith?s ears, then his brush. Kentrith leaned against the bar, trying to sort out the maelstrom of emotion. A small glass was pushed before him, the clear liquid scintillating.

?Here, mate, have one on me. It?ll cure what ails you. And if that don?t help, I?ll get you another.?

Kentrith stared at the glass, straining to keep his hold on the bar, to hold back his paw from that one glass? His mind whirled, and he told himself it wouldn?t help, that the drink would burn going down, burning as well all the progress he had made since leaving this place?

With a trembling paw, he lifted it to his lips.

He was wrong. It didn?t burn at all.

It spiraled downward from there.

*******

The first beast who snarled at him received a chair to the face. The next had his footpaw crushed by the table Kentrith flipped. He roared wordlessly at them all, charging at any that made sudden movements. Several wearing blue tried to calm him, but the fifteen glasses he had consumed blazed through him, and he shoved them away. They bowled over, and he ripped the portrait of Hendezer the Cyclone from the wall to throw it at them.

He spanned the room with his glare. All the beasts that had been hanging on him now cowered against the walls, watching him in fear. One inched a paw toward a broken chair, but Kentrith snatched a flagon from a nearby table and hurled it at him with all his strength. The creature ducked in time, and the earthen mug shattered against the wall.

Something jumped on his back. Slumping forward, he grabbed the offending beast and tossed him into another table. Paws latched onto his footpaw, and he kicked out as another beast snatched at his vest. He wrenched away, howling, and tore the vest from the grasping beast. He was so foggy he couldn?t even see what species he was. The beast he had tossed wrapped his arms around Kentrith?s neck and yanked him back. Growling, Kentrith continued to fall backward, crushing the choker. Immediately three more beasts piled on top of him, pinning him down while the one underneath tried to cut off his breath. Kentrith pulled hard enough that the paw slipped, but he couldn?t dislodge the three on top of him. The fourth slithered from underneath him, and grasping both his arms, began dragging him toward the door. The other three kept hold of him, but helped to tow him out of the room. He screamed at them as he went.

He fought all the way to the cells. The alcohol he had consumed slowed him and weighted his limbs, but he still bit and yanked and snarled as he was carted into the deepest level of the Crater. The bruised and disheveled guards hurled him into a cell and clanged the door shut. Rising from where he had fallen, he charged for the locked gate, growling, ?You jusssst wait, you?ll get yer turn. Then we?ll shee who?s locked up!?

The four backed away, a mix of fear and hatred in their faces. They scurried down the hall, Kentrith shrieking after them, ?He?ll get you, too! All of us will die out there! We?ll all be ground out in the bloodbath he calls a ring, and none of us will ever escape!? Spit dribbled from his mouth, his tongue too heavy to function properly.

A gasp followed the thud of the chamber door slamming shut, and Kentrith turned his attention from the door to find he wasn?t alone. Komi, the female stoat, was staring at him from across the hall.

?You!? he snarled, gripping the bars. False fires raced through his paws, and he squeezed the lengths of metal until it felt like he should be bleeding. ?You p?thetic waste! I gave you the way out, I told you how to escape. You muss be the coward they name you, to botch it up!? He weaved before the door, giggling. ?You think that crying about it will make it go away?! The Crater will chew you up and spit you out until yer just a mass of broken bits!? He cackled louder. ?If you aren?t already!?

Chinking noises drew his eyes to the cell next to the stunned stoat, revealing an otter rising to her elbows from her prone position. Her face, older than the one that had haunted his dreams for years, stared at him in indignation.

?And you!? he spat. ?You thin? one fight in the ring makes you a winner? Don?t worry, you?ll have plenty of chances to show who you really are, you butchering hag!? He pressed his muzzle to the bars, glowering at her. ?Congratulations! You?ve upgraded from murdering an unarmed healer to poking a wearat in the eye.?

?What the bloody hell are ye talkin? about?? the Monster hissed back.

?Yer from Holt Summerdale! Don?t try to deny it!? His rage cleared his mind slightly. ?I recognized the way you stabbed that Wearat. Leapin on ?im from behind! Tha?s a Summerdale move!?

?Aye. I come from Summerdale, and what of it??

?My mother!? Kentrith screamed, shaking the bars. ?A poor healer fox with three sons, who never harmed anybeast, stabbed to death by a big otter. From Summerdale. All because of an epidemic she had no control over!? He bashed his head against the bars, trying to oust the image of Dia, her eyes pleading for help as her cut arms bled. ?I don?t care if your daughter is a slave! I don?t care! I don?t! I don?t!? With each don?t he smashed his head against the bars.

?That?s enough.?

Kentrith snapped his head up, glaring at Nix. She was standing before the door, which no one had heard open. Her arms were crossed, but Kentrith?s eyes were too bleary to see her expression.

?What are you doing, Crane?? she blurted. ?I have never seen you like this! You tear the lounge apart, and you?re raving like a madbeast! What has gotten into you??

?Isss jus? m? other side coming out,? Kentrith slurred, eyes narrowing at her. ?It was always like this when I lef?. An? tha? cat is the one that done it!? He waved a paw in a wide arc, forgetting which direction Nire?s office lay in.

Nix slipped closer. ?What do you mean??

Kentrith blinked at her incredulously. ?I?s his fault we?re here! ?F weren?t for him, you?d still have your husband, and you wouldn?t be catchin? slaves all over the place, an? I?d still be a healer, ?stead ?f what I am.?

He grabbed Nix suddenly, dragging her closer. ?But it won? lass ferever,? he hissed, his voice lowering. He shook the shirt he held, continuing, ?Nire?ll get his due, an? sooner ?n you think. Thin?s are in motion.?

He tapped the side of his muzzle conspiratorially.

Nix whipped out a key, threw the door open and shoved Kentrith against the far wall. ?Are you mad?!? she hissed, yanking him by the shirt. Her voice was almost inaudible.

Kentrith blinked dazedly, feeling a lump rise on his head. ?Whassa matter??

?You can?t just talk about things like that in the open! What if someone heard you?? She shook him hard, the fear in her voice piercing his fog. ?If word of this gets back to Nire, you?re dead, I?m dead, and most importantly, so is Marik!? Her paws twisted, binding the cloth on his arms. ?I know he?s the reason you?re doin? whatever, but you can?t? what will he think when he hears about this?? There was a long pause.  ?He looks up to you! Since he lost his father??

Kentrith?s eyes widened, and he collapsed, his weight wrenching his shirt from her grasp. ?I?m sorry,? he gasped, beginning to sob as he slumped back. ?I wasn?t.. I didn? ? I swore I?d never drink again, I wouldn?t touch the stuff, I wouldn?t?? He looked up. ?Once I start, I can?t stop! It all comes back, and I have to wash it away? And then?? He thumped his head against the bars. ?How do I keep it away?? he whimpered.

?You ask for help, you soggy whipsnout.? A sigh sounded from above him. ?I was going to let you out, but I think you?d better sleep it off here. They?ll release you in the morning.? Another sigh. ?What a mess.? The cell door creaked, and there was a click.

Footpaws sounded, moving away, and the thud of the door echoed, filling Kentrith?s ears until he could hear nothing else.

*******

When he awoke the next morning, he was greeted by searing light, pounding pain in his head, and the rattle of something against the bars of his cell. Hargorn was muttering something, but Kentrith?s head hurt too much to hear the sneering comments. Curling his arm over his head, he groaned.

A deafening screech sounded as his cell door was opened, but he ignored it. He lay as still as he could on the floor, memories of the night before cresting over him in waves. He squeezed his eyes tight, wishing he could block out all the words he had spoken. Had he really said that out loud?

He groaned again, curling into a ball. What if the Monster blabbed? Or that stoat? After the things he had said, he couldn't exactly blame her? Everything would be jeopardized. Especially Marik.

What would Marik think?

Regret pulled at him, dragging him down to its cold depths, like the river so long ago. If only he could slip away, the way he failed to do before?

Get up.

The universe paused. Kentrith held his breath, incredulous. The voice from his memory seemed to be in the same room with him.

You sorry sack, you think you get to huddle away from your problems, make them go away?

His heart pounded, sending fresh pangs through his sore head, waking him up.

You don?t get to escape it that easily, bucko! You done something wrong, you get up and MAKE IT RIGHT! MOVE THAT TAIL! GET UP!

Kentrith levered himself up to a sitting position, squinting through blinding light at the dungeon around him. It was empty.

You?ll never leave me alone, will you? he thought irritably. Using the bars as a brace, he inched to a standing position and staggered out of the cell. I might as well start on making things right. The method would come to him later, when his head didn?t hurt so much.

He reached his room without running into too many doors, and reached immediately for his satchel, the one Bothan had packed for him. He shoved his kettle onto the hearth, which somebeast had kindly lighted for him, and waited impatiently for it to heat, clutching the bag to his chest. Sloshing steaming water into a mug, he jerked the bag open and shuffled out a packet of powdered herbs, sifting it over the mug. A small plop caused him to look down.

Dia?s note lay on the floor. Next to a second. Frowning, Kentrith reached creakily for them, flipping them over to see.

Dia?s was the same, with faded ink, and a slight stain where he had once spilled elderberry wine on it.

The other was fresh, clean cut edges with dark ink slashed across it.

You know where to find me if you need help.

It was followed with the symbol Kentrith had seen in the shop.

The fox staggered to a chair and sat, his legs suddenly too shaky to hold him. He had been right. The herbalist had helped Dia to escape to a safe place, and might be willing to help more.

Maybe he had friends who would also help.

Nire?s face suddenly broke into his rising hope, scattering it. He stared at the scrap of cloth with the damning symbol on it, then looked at the one from Dia. If these were ever found in his possession, Marik, Nix, himself?

They would all be doomed.

After staring at them for a very long moment, he rose to his feet and tossed them into the fire. Grabbing his mug, he marched out the door to face the day.