Can I Really Be the Hero?

[Nyika]

Through the evening crowd Nyika and Zevka had made their way back to the Green Campfire, the pair of them giggling like a kitten and a kit who had found a butterfly.

"Did you see the way they looked at me? They loved me!"

"As odd as I feel to say it, those scars really sold the crowd. And you were absolutely superb. I didn't know how good of an actress you were."

"Well, it comes with the part, sometimes. The first rule of a seer is to get the beast to believe you."

"Is that right?"

"You-hoo two look to be in high spirits," Noonahootin said, eyeing the females as they each took a seat in the common area; he and Poko had procured a table in an isolated corner of the room. Poko was playing with a tankard set before her, every so often leaning in to sniff at the contents and wrinkling her nose in a frown.

"Allow me to introduce Priestess Nyika, the Mistress of Spirits!" Zevka said. The wildcat stood to curtsy.

"As if Istvan wasn't bad enough," Poko muttered, mustering up the courage to take a drink. Her face twisted in a vile grimace and she pushed it away.

"Did you two find anything?" Zevka asked, leaning in with ears perked high. "Any word on Nessa?"

"Alas, no," Noonahootin said, raising his head from his second tankard. A drop fell from his beak. "Whoever they were, they covered their tracks well."

Zevka scowled. "Istvan and I got a few names, but that's all?Lieutenant Naksha and Nettle Platoon. Apparently they hold prisoners in random houses to lessen the chance of escape. That's why I couldn't find a dungeon, but to get any closer I'm going to need the name of somebeast who has more information. I can't be searching every household for Nessa or Mekad."

The pine marten cursed, slamming her paw against the table. Nyika jumped at the noise, breaking her reverie of Zevka breaking into houses, chatting with strangers as though they were old friends, smashing their pots and stealing their treasures, and leaving, never to return again.

What followed was a dead silence that hung over the group, each of them feeling sore over the loss of their companion, realizing the longer they tarried the more Vanessa's fate slipped from their grasp.

"Hmm, harrumph. Miss Nyika," Noonahootin said, attempting to lighten the mood. "This is the first I've seen you today, and if I'm not mistaken, you look ? different."

Nyika gave a sad smile. The old owl's voice was strained when he spoke, and she noticed the empty tankard and a highball glass sitting nearby. The loss of his Guardsbeast had broken his resolve, and Nyika had seen beasts turn to drink when it seemed the world had nothing left to offer. Yet through it all, he was still himself, albeit trying very hard. It was all she could do to play his game and distract him from his thoughts.

"Oh?" she said, her expression turning to something more sprightly. "Tell me how, Mister Sigurd von Metzgerhootin."

"Dat is Duke Metzgerhootin to you! Hoot, hoot!" Taking the bait, or perhaps it was he who was reeling her in, Noonahootin's beak split into a ridiculous grin. Then he twisted his head, as if he couldn't quite put his talon on it. "Iz it perchance ein new fur cut?"

"No," she said, hunching her shoulders in an effort to suppress her mirth.

"Ah, you haff gutten your claws done."

Noonahootin extended a wing, which she took, allowing him to pull her paw close as he gazed upon her splayed claws. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Zevka turn in her seat and order two tankards.

"Not quite," she answered the old owl.

"Vell, den, it must be?"

"It's because she let Istvan tattoo herself in his religion!" Zevka burst out. Her tail was thrashing, her ears pinned back, and there was a scowl on her muzzle.

In an instant Nyika had retracted her claws, placing her paw in her lap and averting her gaze sidelong at the table, studying the grain and trying not to think of how silly and foolish she was acting. Here she was playing games with Noonahootin and Zevka was sick with worry, not only about Nessa, but Mekad as well?Zevka's best friend, and quite possibly her own brother. How could she have forgotten? How could she be so callous?

"That was my next guess," Noonahootin said quietly, dropping his accent. The owl was still smiling, but there was no more amusement in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Nyika tried, putting a paw on Zevka's arm. The pine marten sighed, patting Nyika's with one of her own.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't mean to snap like that. I'm just getting so frustrated. First Mekad, now Nessa, and nobeast knows where either of them are. No matter who I question, no matter who I threaten, it's not enough. There are too many threads, and the more I grasp at them the more they unravel."

A stoat maiden came by, placing two tankards filled with ale in front of Zevka and Nyika. She started at the sight of the wildcat's markings. "Oh my, priestess!" she bowed. "I did not recognize you! Please, enjoy yourself, although?" She paused, looking at each of her companions. "I would not have expected you to be in such company."

Zevka narrowed her eyes, and Poko growled. Noonahootin gave a quizzical look.

"Are not all beasts equal in the eyes of the All-Mother?" Nyika said.

"No," the maiden said, furrowing her brow. "At least, that's not what we've been told by the High Priestess. Are you new to the priesthood?"

"No. I was sent to Carrigul to learn of their practice. It seems the city has strayed far from the path and wisdom of the true All-Mother."

A flush grew to the maiden's muzzle. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! It's just that?"

Nyika inclined her head, displaying her scars. "Then perhaps you should not concern yourself with other beasts' business."

"Forgive me, priestess," the stoat said, and departed from their company. Nyika frowned at her back; there was fear in her eyes.

"Are you going to drink that?" Zevka muttered, irritation plain in her tone.

Nyika played with the tankard's handle. Alcohol was a sin, and to poison the body would be blasphemous against the All-Mother. As much as she wanted to, if she truly wished to be Istvan's Mistress of Spirits, she had to start taking her role seriously. "No," she said. "I think not." She sighed. Maybe just a sip.

"I hope you're not taking this too seriously," Zevka said, taking a small draught of her own. "You were drunk when you agreed to this arrangement in the first place, weren't you? Istvan's a good enough beast when you get to know him, but that doesn't mean you should just abandon all fun for somebeast who might not even exist. Besides, Istvan isn't here. What he doesn't know won't kill him."

"Whether or not she's real isn't the point," Nyika said, still playing with her mug. Her ears perked up. "Where is Istvan? He knows to meet back here, aye?"

"Yes, I don't know," Zevka said. "I hope he wasn't caught. He had quite a few beasts trailing him."

Nyika's eyes went wide. "You don't think?"

"Think what?" Noonahootin said.

"Oh fates, what if Istvan wanted to be captured?"

The tapered feathers of Noonahootin's former moustache twitched. There was concern in his great, owl eyes. "What do you mean 'wanted to be captured'?"

Nyika looked at the captain in worry. He had already lost one of his remaining two Guardsbeasts. How would it be if he had lost both?

"When?" she said, hesitating, trying to find the strength to continue and give testimony to Noonahootin's worst nightmare. "When he and I went out to gather information, he kept asking about a High Priestess."

"The one whom that fox was killed for insulting in the square," Zevka mused.

Nyika turned her head. "What?"

"Some fox made some insults to 'our glorious High Priestess Tikora'," Zevka said, her voice adopting a mocking lilt, "and was executed for it in the middle of public."

"Tikora, Tikora," Nyika said. She snapped her claws. "Aye, that was the one Istvan was asking about. But he didn't get very far. I overheard some of his talks. Apparently she keeps herself out of the public eye, but has a building in which she conducts business. There were some other things about her, too."

"And you think Guardsbeast Istvan sought capture to meet with this Tikora?" Noonahootin said, peering at her.

Nyika nodded. "And after what we did with Ruark, he could easily request audience with her to pass judgment."

"What did you do to Ruark?" Poko interjected. There was a suspicious glint in her eyes. "Because I heard that near an entire tavern was killed last night by a mystical hooded wildcat, and Ruark was left with a Cutter's Mark carved on his body."

The words were like a sock to the gut. Nyika doubled over, gasping, staring at the ferret with wide eyes.

"The Cutter's Mark?" Noonahootin said. "You mean Risk's?"

"Poko," Nyika whispered. Noonahootin couldn't know. "Poko, stop."

The ferret continued, her voice lower but dripping with contempt. "No, a big gruesome 'N'. N for Nyika."

Nyika's world was crashing down around her. Noonahootin was frowning, and Poko was staring at her, her features sharp and penetrating. Nyika put her head in her paw, her claws coming out to grasp the sides of her face, piercing her flesh as she tried to control her trembling.

"So it's true," Poko said.

"Yes," she whispered.

Noonahootin closed his eyes. his feathers rustling in an involuntary shudder. "How did you hear this, Miss Poko?"

"The city's abuzz with rumours," the ferret said, speaking to the owl, but still casting Nyika cautious glances. "It wasn't hard to find out what had caught everybeast's attention. I just didn't think it was true, until?"

The wildcat was shaking, moaning as her claws dug deeper into her flesh. It was a nightmare. She had thought it was over, that all her repercussions had caught up with her. She was wrong. Everything she had built with Poko, all the reparations they had made, shattered. Noonahootin would never look at her the same way.

Zevka glanced between the three of them, realizing the sudden rift that had dug itself between the remainder of their group. She tried to bridge it.

"Well, it wasn't as if he didn't have it coming! The rat's a bigger legend than Goragula! Well, in Carrigul, at least."

"Yes, but Nyika cut him! With a knife! Just like Cookie used to do." Poko's eyes went wide at her revelation. "The Ballad. I want it back."

Nyika shook her head. "You don't understand."

"Give it back!" Poko said, reaching across the table, trying to pull at Nyika's cloak. The wildcat drew away.

"No!" she said, her paw pressing the garment against her body, hearing the crinkle of parchment and feeling her fur settle as she knew it was still there. "It's my story."

"It's Gashrock's story."

"It's about me!"

"It's about Risk!"

"Risk has nothing to do with this!" Nyika shouted. The entire tavern fell silent. Suddenly Nyika could feel a thousand eyes watching her, a thousand ears listening.

Poko felt it, too. "How could this not be about Risk?" she growled, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nyika leaned in, her teeth bared in a snarl. "Do you know what I learned that night? It was all a plot. Kill Goragula, collapse the markets in Yew, and incite war. That was the plan. Aster hired Dewhurst to lead the Guards, and the merchants would have somebeast to protect them along the route. No survivors. That's what was in the letter Gashrock found."

Poko returned the snarl. "Yes, I know. I was there this morning, remember?"

"Well, I feel as though you have forgotten," Nyika hissed. "We were pawns, every one of us. Do you know why your parents died? Because Ruark ordered it."

Poko was quiet, glaring.

"Now do you see?"

"You never would have thought to cut him up if it wasn't for Risk, though," the ferret said. "And that poem ? I never should have given it to you."

"Would it have been better I killed him?" Nyika retorted.

"Perhaps?" Poko dropped her glare, pursing her lips into a thin line. "You know, you didn't teach him a lesson so much as stick your foot paw in a hornet's nest."

Nyika leaned back in her chair. "Yes, I realize that." She sighed. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave him ? unpunished."

"You could have, though, that's the thing."

A sour grimace contorted the seer's face, making her scars gruesome and terrifying. "He would have ordered my death regardless."

"So you left him with something to remember you by. Smart." Poko paused, lifting her tankard for a drink, ignoring the tongue Nyika had stuck out at her. She took a sniff and put the tankard back down. "Why did you go there in the first place?"

Nyika didn't answer, opting instead to draw imaginary runes on the table with a claw.

"Ever since I Iearned there were higher forces at work," she said, "I had always suspected Goragula was a key target in the collapse. Ruark was the only lead I had. I just ? I wanted answers. I needed to know. For us. The wolfsbane ? that was a mistake. I was tricked. I thought it was valerian root. I figured if I tampered with the ale casks and got him to drink, he'd grow drowsy enough where I could escape unharmed. Get my answers and leave?no harm, no foul. But it didn't work out that way."

Poko brightened, albeit slightly. "You didn't go there to kill him?"

"No, that was never the intent. That's probably why I left him alive."

"But you still cut him."

"I lost control. I don't know, I just?"

"I think that is enough," Noonahootin said, draping a wing over Nyika. The wildcat curled against his feathers, shuddering.

"Did you know about this, Captain?" Zevka said.

"I did not. I knew Aster pushed for the caravan, but his reasons were vague and secretive. We followed, because, well, those were our orders. It was?" Noonahootin hesitated. "To spy, yes. It was never outwardly stated, but we knew war was on the horizon. The timing was simply off. Why not go when the road was less treacherous? Why send half the Guard when only a few scouts would suffice?"

"To whittle them down," Nyika muttered.

"What was that?" Noonahootin said.

She answered him. "Ruark said the Guard was sent to lessen their numbers against Carrigul."

The owl's beak dropped, eyes wide at the revelation.

"Wait a moment. You knew Yew was planning for war?" Zevka said.

Noonahootin started, drawing back to the conversation at paw. "Ah, harrumph. I suspected Yew was planning for war. We all suspected. But we never questioned it. And if what Miss Nyika says is true, that the purpose was to ? whittle us down, then it is the final nail in the coffin. Lord Aster betrayed us and sent us to our deaths. But why?" The owl blinked, furrowing his feathery brow in consternation. "He hated Carrigul. They maimed him. Why would he seek to help them? They must hold something over him that is worth more than the city and Guard he commands." He closed his eyes, lifting his head to the skies. "Ah, my Lord Aster, what have they done to you?"

"I can find out," Nyika said, chewing on a claw as plans and plots tumbled around in her head. Her mind worked furiously, excitement swishing her tail as she sought to grasp her thoughts and arrange them in proper sequential order. "If I can get on Tikora's side, I can find out how Carrigul holds Aster in the pad of their paw."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Noonahootin said.

"The same way Istvan did. I'll get captured, seek audience with Tikora. She'll want to see me because I'm going around claiming priesthood, and if I'm connected to Istvan and Ruark and the tavern, she'll have to see me."

"This is madness. They'll throw you in a cell. They'll kill you," Zevka said.

"They can't when they see I'm the Mistress of Spirits. If Tikora holds any faith in the All-Mother, she'll beg to keep me. They wouldn't execute the true Mistress of Spirits, would they? And if they doubt me, I'll conduct a reading. Tikora is sure to have haunts trailing her wake. She'll know I'm no fake, then."

"But you don't know anything about her. Nobeast does!"

The wildcat seer's face hardened in steely resolve. "I'll find out."

"No! I won't let you throw yourself in the wearet's den. There has to be another way."

"You want to know where Beechton Valash is, aye? Mekad, and Nessa? You can't keep unraveling threads the way you are. Go to the knot. Tikora will know, and if she doesn't, somebeast close to her will. When they see who I am, and that Istvan is my priest, they'll let him go. I'll find out where they're keeping them. They'll tell me; I know they will."

Zevka shook her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You're right, and we're running out of options. But if you die," she said, pointing at the wildcat with a threatening claw, "I'll kill you."

Nyika turned her gaze to Noonahootin, who was peering at her with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You don't approve," she said, frowning.

"On the contrary," Noonahootin said as he bowed his head. "I think it very noble and rather brilliant. I would like to see the remainder of my Guards back safe and sound, and it seems as though you have the means to do that." The old owl smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. "You are a very courageous creature, Miss Nyika."

"I don't think so," Nyika murmured. "Otherwise I wouldn't be so afraid."

"Courage is not measured by the absence of fear, my dear, but by the strength one has to overcome it. You are, perhaps, one of the most courageous beasts I have ever had the privilege of meeting."

For once, Nyika smiled at his words. Perhaps she was brave. If she pulled it off, it could even make her a hero; otherwise, she was no more than a fool. It was a funny thing, how blurred the line gets when one approached it. But Nyika was sure with her friends and the All-Mother behind her, she could do it.

If not, at least Death would be by her side.