Burnin' for You

[Tobias]

The forest was blessedly dark, blackness as far as his eyes couldn?t see. Toby hadn?t experienced such natural darkness in ages. The castle always had torches lit, even before sunset. They weren?t bad, just irritating. Most every night he walked up to his room exhausted, and most every night he hoped they were burned out already so he could walk the corridors in darkness. He knew the castle well enough to hate seeing it every hour he was awake.

Toby stopped. Speaking of torches, where was he supposed to get fire? He looked back; it was too late to go back and ask Rousseau. Besides, he didn?t want to seem any more idiotic than he probably made her think he was.

There must be some obvious detail I?m missing, he figured, and continued on towards the marsh. The underbrush was sparse, spiky, and brittle. Toby winced at every snapped twig and broken branch.

Upon reaching the fleet, the architect thanked Vulpuz the rats didn?t post any guards. He reached the outermost boat, crept up to its hull, and perked his ears for any sounds of activity. The cheery-sounding roar from the village and the quiet chorus of water splashing against the boat hulls filled the silence.

He stood up and surveyed the fleet of about twenty expertly carved canoe-like crafts. They were crowded together, hull to hull, as if huddling for warmth. It would be a shame to burn them. Toby recalled more than a few instances in which his father was so displeased with his practice blueprints that he burned them after no more than fifteen seconds of examining them. But this wasn?t cruelty, it was necessity. Speaking of burning, where was that fire?

A red smudge caught his eye not ten paces away. A torch stood affixed to the prow of the boat knocking against Toby?s boat. A trail of nearly transparent smoke drifted from its blackened tip.

Toby swung himself over the hull?s edge and entered the first boat. The unexpected weight rocked the narrow vessel, causing a sharp cackle of wood against wood as the boats knocked against each other. Hoping to maintain secrecy, Toby quickly laid down until the knocking ceased.

The mink made the leap to the target boat with less noise and tried to grab the torch, but it was lashed tight to the prow with a thick, coarse rope. It trailed down to the floor, where a good twenty feet lay coiled. Perfect.

Toby retrieved Rousseau?s dagger and started shearing the fibres when he heard a groan behind him. He spun around, expecting a spear to the stomach. Instead, he saw a water rat at the bow of the boat, moving slowly under a dark blanket. Without any thought, Toby drew his sword, stepped over the four seats that separated them, and drove it into the rat?s stomach. He wished he?d thought.

The rat opened his mouth just before he stabbed him, but Toby made sure the words collapsed and drowned. It was like dipping a quill in ink, he thought as he withdrew his sword. Only the quill breaks and the ink spills all over the place.

He snatched the blanket; it would burn well. Toby cleaned the blood off his blade with the rat?s shirt before the rat?s blood could claim all the dry parts. Too many times had he fantasized of his first kill, of how good it would feel, because that?s why beasts want to be guards and fight, right? No. It was just business, and business was unpleasant.

With the help of Rousseau?s dagger, Toby soon had the torch and rope in hand. He soaked the rope in the oil, liberally splashed the floor of the boat he was in and the two adjacent to him with the rest of the oil, and threw a several feet of rope into the boats. Toby blew on the smoldering torch, shaking the last drops of oil on the coals. Its flame resurrected, though weak. A few more encouraging breaths and it blazed well enough.

Toby jumped back into the first boat and lit the bundle of rope and blanket he had arranged in the middle boat. It took like his blueprints had, much more quickly than he expected. A bonfire erupted in mere seconds.

He scrabbled out of the boat and ran for the darkness. The fire had caught the hull now, flames intensifying to a blinding white.

Toby watched the spectacle from behind a tree for a few moments. He blinked away, the brightness searing his eyesight. The mink turned as the first shouts of ?Fire!? pealed out. The cheery roar devolved into a discordant disarray of panic. He ran. It would start smelling soon.

*   *   *   *   *

Toby rose from his semi-successful sleep and sat up on his bed. He looked around; everything was the same as he left it, even the buzzing in his head. Even though his life was threatened multiple times on the expedition, he never worried about anything. His head was so clear, serene even. But as soon as he saw Kotir the buzzing started, worse in comparison to the feeling of its absence.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone appear at the doorway. Toby looked up, hoping Yvo hadn?t discovered him yet. He was relieved at seeing just the opposite.

?Are you ready now?? she asked.

Toby nodded. He almost asked her the same thing, but he knew she was ready. She was ready the second he left the castle, and even more when she saw him enter the barracks a few hours ago. Toby didn?t want to tell her, but she didn?t deserve any of that waiting.

Adrian sat down next to him. She was looking at him, and he knew she wouldn?t look anywhere else.

?I?m sorry,? he began.

?You?ve already said that,? she said.

Toby rubbed his paws together and looked up at the wall. ?I know. I wanted to say it again.?

?You don?t need to.?

His eyes strayed to the candles on his desk. ?How crazy do you think I am??

?I think you?re the sanest beast in this castle.?

Let?s hope you still think so after this.

Toby took a deep breath. This would change everything. But hadn?t everything already changed?

?Four days from now, we went to the feast.?

He paused and glanced at Adrian; her expression did not falter.

?I was stupid and knocked myself out on wine. Next thing I knew, everyone in Kotir was in the Dark Forest, and Vulpuz picked me and seven other beasts and told us he was sending us back a week to prevent everyone?s death. He told us we needed to kill one beast only, but didn?t tell us who.?

She stayed uncomfortably quiet. Toby felt his paws sweating from all the rubbing.

?Then I woke up two days ago. I thought it was a dream, but you told me it wasn?t. We figured out the beast is a water rat, so we left to find the tribe and see if we could find our target. We found them, they turned hostile, and then we got back here.?

He looked at her. Her eyes displayed confusion edged with concern.

?How crazy do you think I am?? he asked again.

Adrian looked away for the first time, glancing at the doorway. ?I don?t think you?re crazy, Toby.?

Toby felt an odd mixture of hope and disbelief. ?So you??

?I don?t believe you,? she said. ?I can?t. But I?ll help you.?

Yeah, help him become sane?No. He knew what she meant, and he couldn?t refuse it. Toby couldn?t remember the last time he declined Adrian, if ever.

?I promise you that everything will return to normal.? He stood up and offered his paw. ?Alright??

She took it and pulled herself up. ?Alright.?

Toby knew nothing could ever return to normal. He wanted to believe Adrian did.

?We should go,? she said, heading for the door.

?Where??

She looked back, expression grave. ?They sounded the call to arms.?

That?s not good. ?Right, I?m coming.?

The architect followed Adrian down to the grounds, and then up to the battlements after she caught sight of everybeast crowded up near the main gate. He heard Alan?s booming voice grow more distinct as he shot up the stairs.

Toby reached the top and leaned over the rampart to see Caractacus standing at the main gate with about two scores of the tribe twenty paces behind him, armed for war. Let?s hope he?s aiming for peace, he thought, but by the look of the water rat?s expression, Alan was doing his best to make the opposite happen.

Toby stepped back and started jogging over to Alan, who was drawing his sword as if he was about to duel Caractacus. ?Bloody fool,? the mink muttered, ?Can never settle??

Toby?s griping was interrupted by the sound any architect hoped never to hear: the accelerating grind of stone against stone, earsplitting and speaking only of deconstruction. He started running and reached Alan a few seconds after the great thud happened. A merlon was missing, with the owl Clutus and the rabbit Rallentando standing by the space. Toby peered over the wall and saw Caractacus lying by the stone, bloodied and motionless. The water rat?s words were crushed and broken.

A collective, unnerving shriek erupted from the water rats moments after. Toby saw a horribly scarred rat run up and check the fallen leader. ?He?s dead,? he said to the rest of the tribe.

?The First Son is dead!? he howled, addressing the rats. ?First they take the Lake, now they are taking her Sons. How long before we are all dead?? The rats responded with discordant yelling; some were jumping up and down in fury.

The scarred rat turned to Alan. ?My brother was too merciful, and he paid for it. I will not make that mistake. We will exterminate you from this land and take back what is The Mother?s!?

As the rat ran back to the rest of his tribe, an arrow whizzed down and struck the ground by his footpaws.

?You idiots!? Alan shouted. ?Hold your fire!?

?One of them could be our target.? Toby said, trying to hold back his frustration. Getting angry would only hasten the mink captain?s temper.

?That could be our target,? the captain said, pointing to Caractacus?s body. ?Besides, I don?t want any more bodies littering our front gate. They look unprofessional.?

The rats had sprinted to the tree-line. Toby thought he saw some of them swinging something. ?What are they doing??

Alan looked just after they seemed to punch the air. ?Get down!? he yelled. Toby was surprised into obedience from the volume of his voice and ducked behind a merlon with the captain. He heard a couple sharp cracks against the wall, and one right beside him.

The architect peeked over the merlon, but Alan jerked him down again. ?Stay down!? he hissed. Toby did. Another wave of cracks followed. He looked to the side, where a few archers were loading another arrow and firing. One of them fell after a grey blur entered his head. He looked back to where Clutus and Rallentando had taken cover, but they were gone.

There was a blessed pause after two waves. The archer beside Toby lowered his bow. ?They?re gone.?

Toby stood up and brushed himself off. He noted a small chip in the stone by Alan?s footpaw.

?Did you get any?? Alan asked.

?No, Captain. They were too far away,? the stoat responded.

?Really? They didn?t think we were,? he snarled.

?Sling stones travel farther in the air than arrows,? Toby said.

?What??

?Small stones cut through the wind more easily than wooden arrows. Plus, there is a slight breeze against us.?

Alan stopped for a moment and looked at him, possibly checking the wind speed. ?Perhaps. Go be a good boy now and inform Lord Tirian of the current situation. I think this may have grown a little bigger than us chosen ones can handle."

?Shouldn?t I gather Rousseau and the others??

Alan waved the suggestion aside. ?What the bloody hell for? She's the reason they're attacking by storm. Go do what I told you.?

Toby opened his mouth to object but Alan turned him around and gave him a push. "Who's the captain here, you or me?!"

The mink reluctantly walked toward the battlement?s stairs, steeling himself for the coming talk with the wolves. The buzzing was getting worse.