Invisible Things are the Only Realities

[Noonahootin]

Invisible Things are the Only Realities

The air was frigid with cold, but the old owl felt flush with humid heat. Uncomfortable and feeling rather sticky within the confines of the stone temple, Noonahootin began to feel increasingly irritated. He knew full well that it was merely fatigue and the peculiar heat radiating from the party as they had explored every crack and crevice before discovering the riddle, but as each beast crouched before the poem they had discovered mere minutes ago, the scout felt he could take no more. He was too big for the hallways of the ruin; their shadowy corners and collapsed sections made him feel short of breath and vulnerable. What rooms he managed to crawl into had low ceilings and the windows were too few and far between. He couldn't stretch his wings in the confines of the ancient structure; he needed to get out.

?I need some air!? The owl's loud and sudden announcement caused his fellows to sharply and simultaneously raise their heads. Clearing his throat, Noonahootin apologetically repeated himself, adding, ?It's too stuffy in here.? Immediately, he sniffed in deeply as if to prove his point, and then swivelled his head backwards on his neck to look directly behind him. The barren hallway that lead to the carved riddles was black as it had been when they had traversed it from the opposite direction, with only patches of sun filtering down through its torn ceiling to provide some semblance of light. The rooms that branched off of the main hall and wound about the temple's bones were as empty as his gin flask.

?Be careful finding your way back,? Zevka warned, casting the owl a look stained slightly with pity, realizing just how cooped up the large bird must have felt.

Scuffling awkwardly around in his splinted talon, the cracked and uneven flooring of the room caused him to trip and bump into the wall. Affronted, it took a good few harruphs before Noonahootin had himself turned the right way and took the first step forward. He strolled on as casually as he could manage and, turning his head around again to check on his comrades, picked up his pace when he was sure their attention was no longer on him.  He broke through the opening threshold of the temple and breathed deeply, gratefully spreading his wings and standing as tall as he could for the first time in what felt like ages. Even his wounded wing felt better for the fresh air, and the constant, warm throbbing that accompanied him still after its doctoring lessened with the euphoria of the outdoors. The scout cast a longing gaze to the skies, only bringing his eyes down when he heard something skitter behind a nearby wall.

?Show yourself!? the owl immediately barked, stepping back into the temple's doorway and protectively blocking the entrance. Somewhere, a pebble bounced and rolled loudly before it settled. Silent and tensed, Noonahootin bobbed his head repeatedly and turned his eyes in every direction as he searched for the origin of the noise.

There was a sudden rancid smell that wafted over him, like burning fur and decay. It was earthy and reminded him of freshly tilled soil and mouldy hay.

?May I join you??

Jumping, the owl turned and practically knocked Nyika over with his tail feathers. Upon seeing the young wildcat, however, he let out a heavy, relieved sigh and smiled.

?Oh, bless my heart! It's you. Yes, yes of course!? he breathed, moving aside so that the seer could too taste the joy of an open sky above her head. His eyes watched Nyika as she took cautious steps forward, her eyes ever looking in the distance. He, too, gazed towards the snow-covered plains. With one hop, he joined the cat's side and offered her his good wing.

?Join me for a walk, Miss Nyika??

The wildcat seemed impressed by the gentle motion, placing her paw in the crook of his elbow and, immediately, Noonahootin regretted letting her get too physically close to him; she was still greasy and had chunks of what looked like flesh and skin stuck to her scruffy pelt. The smell had had time to ferment and almost overwhelmed him; had no one found this poor lass some water for bathing? He'd remedy that himself if no one else could.

Together they moved towards the place of Nyika's interest, cutting a trail through the long forgotten town towards the eerily vacant plane lower within the valley.

?I am rather curious as to why you would wish to try this route in light of your previous convictions,? Noonahootin said lightly while they walked. ?I would have thought you less keen to pass through the town this way.?

?I see something,? Nyika said softly, her eyes unwavering from their intently focused place.

?Or someone?? Noonahootin suggested in a quiet and secretive voice, looking at her with a cocked brow.

?Yes,? Nyika answered. ?At least, I think so. There are these...great wisps of white. There's more than one, I'm sure of it. They flicker in the corner of my eyes and then they disappear. I can't see them, not really...it's strange. Like they're avoiding me. That's never happened before.?

?Ephemeral wraiths,? Noonahootin spoke, his tone grave. ?I do not envy your abilities. Stay close; I'll not easily let harm come to you.? The seer gratefully tightened her grip on his wing, and nestled comfortably against his feathery down. With his charge weary, the owl felt nervous himself. He could not truly defend her against any spirit or spook that chose to harass her, but he could at least give her the reassurance that he would not abandon her.

?You keep looking up.?

?You are very observant. Hmph,? the owl huffed as though offended by her nature. Truthfully, he was impressed and it was without any spite that he breathed, ?I have threats of my own to mind, and she is as ghostly as yours.?

?The harfang.?

?Indeed. However,? Noonahootin hooted, tilting his head back as he accentuated where his interests lay, ?I have not seen a single bird fly over this territory. Not one. No crow, no jay, no one. Those bone pillars perhaps frighten even the locals of the air and not just those sub-subterranean terrors.?

?I'm so cold here,? Nyika reiterated her fears, ?"A shadow hangs over this valley; something very, very dark.?

?More ghosts? Evil spirits??

Nyika only stared straight forward, flinching once as presumably a wraith swooped into her vision again. Noonahootin sighed sympathetically, keeping pace with the young wildcat as best he could so as to not slow her down and force her to linger in such an unpleasant place.

?I wish I could help you,? he confessed feebly. ?Truly, I do. If I could only have endless time in the library of Yew, I'd pour over every page of every tome to find out why you are harried by the dead.?

Nyika paused, her foot poised above the snow, considering. ?I think I am beyond help at this point.?

The owl smirked then, shaking his head confidently. ?No beast is beyond help. My son Cleite and I reconciled our differences. I got over my stubborn parental wishes to see him follow in my wing beats!?

?Yes, but that's not what I meant.?

?Two days ago I was at death's door step.? The owl gave her a wink. ?Thanks in part to your paws, Miss Nyika, I am still here.? His smile broadened and he jostled her playfully, not letting go as she stumbled to the side and swatted at him. ?And I will be until the end. Thank-you. I owe you my life.?

Nyika tilted her head as she looked up at the owl, her smile easing back into a thin line upon her face. ?And Istvan, and Zevka. They did more than I did. Is this what this walk is about? To show me favouritism because you think I'm weaker than them?? The wildcat's tone was more worried than accusing, her furrowed brow in confusion. ?Playing favourites, always taking me aside and telling me how great I am.? Her eyes widened slightly and her lower lip stuck out. ?I'm not as wonderful as you make me seem.?

Noonahootin's own expression morphed into less than pleased. He looked hurt, and shook his head. ?No, no, sweet kitten! I intend to thank everyone, it's just that I...well. Well, if you must know, I...hmph. Harruph!? The owl toed at the snow, a light red rushing to his face and settling under his skin. ?As an officer, I am supposed to set a strong example for my comrades. I have been less than exemplary in my behaviour and weakness, and at times, less than kind. Still, I am respected enough to warrant worry and care when I was downed, and I am honoured to serve amongst all of you. That kind of gratefulness is hard for a proud old bird like me to put to words. It deserves a more intimate moment.?

The owl's ears had stood straight up and he had slowly risen from his lumbering crouch. His chest puffed out proudly, Noonahootin looked down at Nyika and regarded her with a warm fondness.

?Yoohoo are worthy of this Captain's respect. Do not take that lightly.?

"I did not do well in my healing lessons," Nyika protested, lowering her eyes and letting her tail drag in the snow. "I was only called when there was nobeast else to do the job, or nobeast who needed to know."

?The doctors and nurses of the Yew Guard could teach you,? Noonahootin offered prosaically. ?You'd do well there. You're clever, clever by far. And very, very brave.?

Nyika stopped and withdrew her paw from Noonahootin's wing. Her eyes grew wide again, but this time they glinted with curiosity. ?They'd train me? As a healer?? Her eyes squinted sceptically as her tone became questioning. "Would they have me?" she asked. "A wildcat like me?"

Noonahootin nodded. ?Indeed! With a recommendation from me, you could enlist and start right away! Admittedly, the Yew Guard is comprised mostly of Woodlander beasts, but we've had a fox or two in past years! They make the best accountants what with a mind for figures... HARRUMPH! It's steady pay, you'll be respected amongst the town, and there's never a night with an empty belly.? The owl considered her thin frame sternly, tutting just once despite his efforts to remain polite. ?Work hard and within a year, I'd say you'd be a nurse.?

She looked at him very hard then, as though expecting him to burst into laughter any moment at her expense. When he didn't, she raised her brows in realization and a small, modest smile played about her whiskers. She took his wing once again and they picked up their stroll, Nyika's paws daintily making their way through the slushy snow, Noonahootin's talons sinking awkwardly within the cold.

?How come your name is so silly??

?I beg your pardon?? He had not been expecting such a question. For a moment, he imaged Wingchut saying the exact same thing.

Women. Beautiful, brazen devils.

?Your name, it's...? Nyika sighed, smiling bashfully. ?Well, your son Cleite, and your oldest son, Prosecutes. And your daughters Venia and Wyoot. They all have such...majestic names. And Noonahootin is...well...odd.? She paused and considered for a moment, then smiled shyly at a thought that had crossed her mind. ?Well, actually, maybe Wyoot is a bit silly too. When I first heard you tell Poko about Wyoot, I thought you picked the name because it sounded so fun, and unique like her.?

The owl stared at her unblinkingly, stopping where he stood. Impressed at what the wildcat had obviously overheard from his conversation with the ferretmaid, he stared at her, appreciating her cleverness all the more for what she remembered. For a long, silent minute, the wildcat sweated under the predatory bird's nerve-wracking gaze. When the captain burst into raucous guffaws, his frame shaking so hard he loosened feathers, Nyika breathed out heavily.

"My dear, sweet kitten! Such a memory!" Smiling and breathing heavily, his voice quaked. "Indeed, she was given the name Wyoot because in the ancient language of owls it means 'bright moonlight'. Although, back in my grandmother's day it wasn't as rare as it is now. As for my name, well, that is quite the story!"

Nyika's face lifted as she realized she was in for one of the owl's long tales. The light in her eyes reminded him of his children when they were but fluffy chicks in the nest, all eyes and tiny beaks with their short little wings, eager to claim the closest perch and hear their old man tell them his magnificent war stories.

?My mother,? Noonahootin began fondly, ?was a member of the Court of the Seven Winds! They were seven birds who, generation after generation, dedicated themselves to the collection and preservation of ancient and new knowledge! They flew far and wide searching for books and scrolls, and what-have-you! On her travels, she met my father, the fiercest warrior of the Birch Wood, like his father before him and so forth until the beginning of time!?

?Of course,? Nyika hummed, nodding along although her eyes were once again sliding to the edge of the town, the strange feeling she received from that direction drawing her focus.

?Well, after they met and fell in love, which is an entirely different yet equally delightful tail, hrmph, they had their first clutch and I, being the eager fellow that I have always been, was the first to hatch!  My siblings came days after me, and I had already driven my mother insane! I never stopped chirruping, she'd tell me! Always squawking and squealing, never giving her a moment's peace! She'd tell me, when I was older of course, that I would hoot from dusk until the next dawn and then until noon!? The owl took a moment to laugh fondly at the memory of his mother. ?She'd say, 'Noona, my boy!' Noona was her pet name for me, cheeky ol' gal, haha! Hrmph, harruph! She'd say 'when you were but a wee lad, you would spend until noon a-hootin' away!' HA-HAHA!?

Nyika gave the owl a sly smile, shaking her head and patting the owl's wing in a comforting gesture. ?You don't say!?

?Oh, Kinnikinnick  loved that story. She'd laugh every time,? he sighed wistfully.

?Kinni...kinnick? She was your mate, aye?? Nyika asked slowly.

?Yes. She died a long time ago. Disease induced starvation,? Noonahootin said, his voice soft and distant as his eyes became unfocused. ?She was so very frail in the end, but she died well, by my side and under my wing.? Noticeably, Noonahootin calmed himself, his chuckles fading until they were sporadic and distant. Collected, he preened his stitches, pointedly silent as he worked up his nerve, before turning a serious eye onto the wildcat. ?Nyika, I wish to ask you something. It is bold, and...selfish of me. I'm not even sure if I'd take any comfort in your answer.?

Nyika lowered her ears, a look of pity coming over her. She knew what was coming.

?Istvan and Greenfleck have...followers, you have said. Risk, too, had them.? The owl swallowed, but pressed on. ?Do...do I share that burden??

Nyika considered the grey bird for a moment with a wry look. "Why do you ask that? You've led an honourable life. I remember you said you had no regrets."

?And that is true, hmph, I have none!? Noonahootin confirmed with a boast, although he did not puff up his chest as he often did to exhibit his pride. Instead, he leaned forward, and very quietly told Nyika, ?Mostly I'm just curious. Yet...still, I can't help but worry for those I've lost. I worry they felt they had not accomplished something pressing and can not find peace because of it.? He drew in another shuddering breath, swallowing hard as he forced a smile. ?That's all.?

Nyika nodded in understanding. "You walk alone." She gave him a smile, but it faltered when she looked at him.

Noonahootin nodded politely once in thanks, eyes trailing off in thought. He was not surprised at her words, having few unresolved relations in his life. Still, he found the seer's words almost disappointing. His curiosity did not feel sated, and he didn't understand right away why. It occurred to old owl that perhaps he had been hoping for the company, a loved one perhaps who followed him.

And yet that would mean they were not at peace, that they lingered on for an unaccomplished oath, Noonahootin thought bitterly, scowling.

Nyika stopped suddenly, and Noonahootin looked up to see where they had paused. The edge of the town was sparser than the inner sections, fewer houses having survived the rolling winds and harsh winters that beat constantly at the decrepit stone buildings. Not a single roof had survived and evidence of the existence of any solid buildings having once stood there was reduced to piles of rubble in some places.

Save for one.

?We're here,? Nyika said quietly.

Before them stood a grey stone house. It's roof was missing, but part of the framework still stood intact, rotting slowly in the sun. The door was gone from its frame, and dried brown moss blanketed the sides of the structure. The chimney still partially stood, although its top half lay in a row of brickwork upon the ground beside the house.

?Shall I knock?? Noonahootin offered jokingly, but when Nyika didn't smile, his tone became serious. ?What is it??

?They didn't want me here,? Nyika whispered, leaning back slowly as she came to the realization. ?The wraiths, they...they were trying to lead me away from here! Don't go in there! Please, don't! We should leave right now.?

Noonahootin watched as Nyika, trembling, began to back away. Her tail rose up behind her as stalk-stiff as her whiskers. The owl's head turned slowly back to face the doorway. ?Be brave, Nyika. It shall be worth the daring.? Without hesitation, the scout strutted forward, shoulders squared as he entered the doorway.

?Wait!? Nyika hissed, and was suddenly clinging to his wing again, her claws pressed tightly against his feathers. ?Be careful!? she hissed, standing anxiously in the doorway.

It was a simple room. A defunct fireplace sat along the far wall, a pile of broken, rotted wood in the centre of the floor. In one corner, in a shallow hole that had been slowly filled with time, there lay a large pile of broken and rotting furniture, the wood so old it was practically dust. Noonahootin squinted towards it, recognizing it immediately as a bird nest, covered in a thin layer of time-earned film.

?Odd,? he mused, creeping forward. The nest had clearly not been used in years. Behind him, Nyika craned her neck to see what he saw; there were broken fragments of egg shells, their tiny flecks nestled into the dirt hole and shielded from the elements by the still standing walls of the old house. Feathers, old and white, were still present in the nest, caught on the wooden splinters where they had been trapped so long ago. Hundreds of little old bones, previously digested and brittle, were scattered about, evidence of rotted pellets. Some gleamed yellow as old porcelain while others crumbled against the closeness of the owl's breathing.

?Snowy owl feathers...? Nyika breathed as Noonahootin plucked one out of the nest and held it up towards the light.

?It would appear so,? Noonahootin mused. He sniffed at the feathers before replacing them back into the nest. ?Not our harfang though. Wrong scent. Too old.?

Nyika's tail bottle brushed and she jumped in her skin before she turned in alarm. "Oh, hello!"  Her attention had been caught by a figure sitting by the rotted furniture. Noonahootin glanced towards where Nyika had looked, and attempted to very politely look away; the skeleton had collapsed long ago into a mound of dusty old bones. The stoat skull, still perfectly intact save for a few teeth, still sat atop the pile, looking towards the nest.

?Nyika! And this is Captain Noonahootin. It's very nice to meet you.? Nyika was speaking with the skull, kneeling on the floor right beside it, her fear pushed aside.

?Yes, er, hmph, hello,? he murmured with a slight degree of embarrassment.

?No, he's not a snowy owl,? she said with a shy smile. ?Is that who used to live here? Is that their nest??

Noonahootin let the cat speak, listening to her carry a one-sided conversation with all the appropriate pauses and expressions to indicate someone was actually replying to her. He continued to inspect the nest, picking through the wood that had been borrowed from furniture in the house. Whatever bird had built the avian cradle had picked a superior place; shielded from the elements by stone walls, protected by the eeriness of an abandoned town, the nest was so well preserved that there were still feathers present long after desertion.

?How long ago did they live here? Oh, that's not...that's not that long ago...A family? Oh, the eggs in the nest...?

Which reminds me, why hasn't a single bird flown over this aerial territory?

Unconsciously, the owl looked up and squinted suspiciously. There was something strange about the land itself, something more than some curious bone pillar and a stone temple's riddles. His eyes lowered again and he considered the nest.

Snowy owls would have kept away what few small birds scratch out a living this far north. They're clearly no longer here, and I've never scouted this far myself.

When Noonahootin blinked, he finally took note of where he had been dazedly staring, and just what exactly there was. In the nest, trapped beneath an old piece of pottery, there was another feather.

It was the long blue feather of a merlin falcon.

Aster...

?No,? Noonahootin breathed, blinking in surprise. ?It can't be.? With a talon, he brushed the pottery aside and picked the feather up, holding it close to his face. Immediately, what his eyes and nose and gizzard all told him to do was stuff the feather into his tunic and not let anyone else see it. Ever. When they next built a fire, he'd burn it discreetly.

?Oh, no. No, no, no...? It was Nyika, and her voice had suddenly pierced the air with a feline wail of despair. ?I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, we have to leave! They're here, they want us gone, they're here!? She was on her feet, backing towards the door. ?Captain, please, we must leave right now!?

?What do you see, Miss Nyika?? the owl urgently asked, curious as to what terrified his companion so. The cat's eyes were as wide as saucers and every fur on her body was standing at full attention. She was rigid with fright and her paws were trembling. He followed her gaze to above the nest where the missing roof and stone wall made for a perch; there were talon scores still visible in the stones where large birds had once sat.

Two birds, two sets of predatory talon marks.

The parents.

The air went frigid and a shiver crept up the length of Noonahootin's spine. He crouched forward, ears perked, and put a wing forward to shield Nyika from whatever it was she could see.

?The falcon...it...it lured them away from their babies...they were murdered...oh, fates, Captain, they ambushed them! The Carrigul soldiers, they ambushed them!?

?No,? Noonahootin growled, pushing Nyika out the door as he eyed the mouldy nest distastefully. ?No.?

?Captain...they...they swooped in when...you touched the nest...Quiggley said the blue of your uniform...?

With those words barely breathed from her lips, Nyika looked past Noonahootin towards the nest, and let out a startled shriek. She turned on her toes and bolted, paws kicking up snow. A sudden shock went through the owl as he saw how fast Nyika fled; she darted blindly away from the stone house, and he quickly pursued her, manoeuvring awkwardly in the wet snow.

A shadow fell over him. Sudden, foreign fear gripped his heart, and Noonahootin looked up expecting to see the harfang descending upon him. He tripped, his feet unsuited to fleeing on land, and tumbled in the snow. He sat up with a shrill hoot of indignation, but no one was there to hear. There was nothing in the sky, nothing behind him, and only Nyika running away. Brushing the panic off, he hopped up and took off after the wildcat, cursing his fumbling legs. When at last he caught up it was only because Nyika had stopped and buried her face in her sleeve.

?Captain, Quiggley said-?

?WHO-HOO IS QUIGGLEY??

Nyika clamped her paws down upon her ears, whimpering softly. Her lower lip trembled and her round, soulful eyes gleamed with tears.

?H-he's the stoat that used to live in the house....he died a long time ago, but then the owls came and made their home in his house, and they didn't disturb his bones so...he watched them. He loved them!  He saw everything.?

?He saw Carrigul soldiers kill the owl family that lived here?? Noonahootin asked, pointedly sarcastic as he glared at her.

?No...he said he saw the falcon lure them away. It attacked them, every day for days, until they had no choice but to go after him. Then, one day, the falcon came back and...he crushed their eggs. He crushed their eggs and then took a nap in the nest!?

Nyika wailed again, her body shaking with the force of her sorrow. ?He bragged to himself about it! He gloated after he'd done it...and then...he took the egg he saved. Quiggley said he probably ate it! He killed their babies, Captain! He murdered them! ?

Carefully, Noonahootin extended a single talon and raised Nyika's chin up, forcing her to look him in the face.

?What is the falcon's name??

Nyika swallowed, sniffing in and blinking the water from her eyes. ?Quiggley didn't know, and then the  owls appeared. They were the wraiths I kept seeing! They glowed brighter than a lantern at night! They were spectacular, Captain, they...they were full of spears...and their eyes...oh, they were so full of hate!? Her voice cracked and she wrung her paws.

Noonahootin let her face go and began to curl his moustache instead. He thought for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as he muttered softly.

?Now, see here. There's no evidence of any of that. The falcon could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was chased by the white owls perhaps when he came into their territory. They protected their nest, and then...then he came and...while they were gone perhaps...?

?He was vengeful, whoever he was!?

?No,? Noonahootin snapped.

?Quiggley said-?

?Mister Quiggley was a lonely pile of bones!? Noonahootin barked, irritated with the wildcat's insistence to tell the truth. ?He would have spun any yarn for some attention!?

?You're in denial,? Nyika's level voice was cold and accusing.

?I simply can not-?

?Can't believe me! You don't! Y-you think I'm a fake! Just like everybeast else! ? Her eyes were running again, and her nose had decided to join them.

Noonahootin blinked and took a deep, calm breath, letting it out in one long, shuddering wheeze. She hadn't leaped to the same conclusion as he, and her naivety gave Noonahootin hope. His mind was fatigued with fear of the harfang's constant attacks and the unexpected accusations of treachery in Yew. The letter, with its seal and it's fine penmanship, had planted the seed of doubt in his heart. He could not let it sprout. If Nyika hadn't thought of the commander of the Yew Guard as the fiend, as he had, than there was a chance it wasn't the same falcon. There was no sense even thinking about it; such thoughts would only water the garden, and so the owl pushed it to the very back of his mind just as he had put the feather in the very bottom of his pocket.

Just a coincidence, he forced himself to believe. Nothing more.

?No, no, sweet kitten! I...I'm sorry, I do not doubt you see what you see.? His words were carefully chosen and executed with the practised ease of a father. He sighed and haggardly let his wings sag. ?I'm tired. The days are long, and I'm not getting any younger. I'm so sorry, Nyika, I didn't mean to be cruel.?

Nyika did not seem entirely convinced, but she did not have time to convey her dissatisfaction. At that precise moment, there was a shudder from beneath their feet, and the ground between them collapsed into the earth, hungrily cannibalizing itself.

?Nyika!? Noonahootin shouted, extending his wings and flapping off the ground before he could think to stop himself. His feet lifted from the ground and landed very quickly by the wildcat's side, and the owl seethed with the shooting pain in his shoulder. No doubt he'd popped his stitches. He clacked his beak in frustration before hissing to the cat, ?Stay close.?

They edged away from the sinkhole, and Noonahootin swerved his head around in both directions to scout out just how far Nyika had led them. They were further down in the valley, and the temple where the rest of their comrades were was hardly visible along the lip of the hill. Small hillocks tipped with light brown dirt dotted the plane between them and the town, and small cracks appeared in the land where the heat was too much for the ground to contain.

?The ground is warm,? Nyika murmured as she looked down and lifted a foot off the slushy snow.

Steam was rising in wispy, serpentine trails before dissipating into the air, and in one of the knolls it billowed forth like smoke from a house fire.

gsh GSH GSH

The earth roared like a thousand gales billowing at once as a pillar of boiling water surged forth into the sky, raining scalding pain down around it. It bellowed for an intimidating term, and then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, back into the earth like a tongue behind a snake's teeth.

?Well, that explains the birds,? Noonahootin choked.

?What birds??

?Indeed.?

In unison, their heads turned towards the path they had taken, only to have their eyes met with the sight of a landscape dotted with sinkholes, and yet another geyser billowing with steam.

gsh GSH GSH

?Stay close,? Noonahootin repeated, and once again offered Nyika his wing. She clutched at him, hunching away from every hiss no matter how far away it was. Together, they began to cut a direct path through the plane towards the temple.

Geysers and sinkholes proved persistent. The ground would crack beneath Nyika's light paws and Noonahootin's spread toes only to give way as quickly as the road had done on the fateful night of the caravan. When the crust settled into its darkened pit, black, bubbling oil would ooze into it's place, or white water that gurgled and frothed just as violently. The steam turned into smoke in some areas, heavy and silver and choking, and both beasts cringed at the smell of sulphur that would travel on the bitter cold winds. Further north along the valley there were thin skeletal trees, white as burnt ash, reaching out with black boney fingers from a boiling grey bog that spread widely around the valley. They tread carefully, both beasts ever diligent to the slight tremors in the ground that would indicate impending danger, or the cracking noises of the next sinkhole. The geysers proved the worst, for their water spouts reached immense heights, and rained down burning water for impressive distances around their cores.

With careful assiduity to their surroundings, Noonahootin scouted a path through the deadly plane, and finally small piles of stone rubble began to appear, marking the graves of long-lost buildings. At last when they had reached the town, Nyika and Noonahootin were nervous wrecks, flinching at any sharp sound. They sat on a ledge, staring out over the deadly field they had just escaped with wide, awed eyes.

?We made it,? Nyika said, easing at last as she balanced on the rocks, her paws between her knees. Noonahootin dared not share her smile, part of him expecting a new geyser to dig itself free of the land and erupt beneath their feet. He did not want to be a boiled bird.

?Yes,? he sighed gratefully, looking up at his divine luck. ?Yes, we made it. Are you alright, Miss Nyika??

?I'm...I'll be fine,? she promised quietly.

A thought wound itself around its predecessor and the owl rolled his head to face the wildcat. His face scrunched as he unconsciously shook his wing, dreading the future preening he'd have to service his feathers with sometime very soon.

?Miss Nyika...I was being polite earlier, but my curiosity far outmatches my wisdom. What happened to you in the tunnels??

"I saw my mother." A thickness poured into the air at the wildcat's declaration, gaseous and cold.

?What?? Noonahootin blinked down at Nyika in surprise. She was staring off to the side, looking at something only she could see.

?Risk killed her.?

At first, Noonahootin was at a loss. He had no idea how to react to the younger beast's words. With any one else, he could have offered sincere condolences, and he did indeed sympathize with the seer. However, she was special; she dealt with such tragedy and despair every time she opened her eyes it seemed, and so Noonahootin respectfully kept his beak shut. There was nothing he could offer or say to give comfort to the little one then, and so he gently put his wing around her shoulder.

?She was there, before I found Risk's body, in the tunnels. I guess no one told you ...why...why I'm so messy. ?

?I'm not sure I want to know,? Noonahootin said softly, realization dawning on him as he recognized the clumps of flesh and fur littering her to be ferret in origin. ?And yet I've opened this door...what happened in the tunnels, Nyika??

"I had no choice!? she blurted out insistently. ?It was that or let the moles kill us all! They left him in a collapsed tunnel. Dead. They had killed him, after he killed so many. They were afraid of him. I knew... So I asked Gor...eeeenfleck to remove his skin. And I wore it.? She paused, her rigid body relaxing as though she had come to a very important conclusion in her mind. ?Nyika the Cutter. That's what she called me."

?Your mother? Said that?? He was aghast, appalled and enthralled that a mother would bestow such nomenclature upon her child. Since their first night in the cave, immediately after the road had collapsed and thrown them into chaos, Noonahootin had wanted to believe the wildcat's powers as real. She was sweet and honest and good at heart, and not a single whisker on her cheeks had ever hinted at any charlatan shenanigans, yet such a horrible vision was hard for the old bird to swallow, bitter with the taste of insanity.

"No, not her. Vanessa." She paused for a while and Noonahootin clacked his beak at the uncouth disposition of his guard. Nyika continued. ?I've seen her before. She always used to appear...? the cat blinked, almost unsure of herself, ?when I'm at my lowest. Always there, to give me comfort and...tell me things were all right. As any mother should.?

Nyika's eyes widened as she recalled something, then snapped shut as it became too much for her. ?But ...she was different, after I learned. Learned the truth.? The wildcat turned to Noonahootin, looking up at him with a stiff jaw and damp eyes. ?You were right. My mother died in childbirth, or at least, she died before she could. Risk killed her and pulled me from the womb. He said I died. Closer to life, closer to death. Isn't that what you said?"

In shock and horror, Noonahootin stared unblinkingly at the young wildcat. She was too young to bear such a burden.  Heart aching for her, the captain sighed gently in sadness; he had never dreamed his late-night theory, conjured in fatigue and the mere desire to comfort a troubled child, would have had any merit, imagined or otherwise. "Sweet kitten," he hooted softly, and pulled her close to his belly. Her greasiness and smell no longer held any weight.

Nyika shook her head, burying her runny nose into his plumage. "I don't know. But she was different. She wasn't pretty. She wasn't ... my mother. She was this ghastly ... haunt. With her stomach torn open, and blood ... blood everywhere. No ghost has ever changed before. They are as they have died. But my mother. My mother changed."

He held her close still, even as his mind turned to doubt and considered the very strong possibility that Nyika wasn't a liar or a seer. For the lass to even tell him such dark things Noonahootin recognized as deep trust, and he could not bare the thought of upsetting her further with dismissals. The owl did not want to dare himself to think further on the only option left; she was too young to be touched in the head. Beasts were supposed to lose their minds when they grew old, when they had lived a long life and learned too much to keep in their skulls.

?Life is a curious thing,? Noonahootin murmured to the wildcat. The old captain looked down at her, smiling as best he could against the pain in his gut. ?When we think we know its ways, it changes beneath our very feet. It's mysterious, both beautiful and ugly, so why should death be any different? Life and death are infinite, sweet kitten, and so are their ways. It's not for the likes of our mortal souls to know.?

He could only offer her his opinion, for in all his years of scouting he had never seen a creature like Nyika before. His knowledge was limited, but he had given her the best he could, and when she smiled at him and tugged hopefully at one of his feathers, he felt a calmness overcome him. She'd be alright. If he could keep an eye on her, and give her his comfort when she needed it, she'd be alright.

The owl looked up suddenly, hearing for the second time that day a mysterious skittering noise. Nyika's ears flicked as well, and Noonahootin spotted the flash of a black-tipped white tail disappear behind a wall. Towards the west, the scout noticed another beast moving about, their white fur almost disguising them amongst the snow if it weren't for their black-tipped tail.

?Ermine,? Noonahootin muttered, raising a brow. Was the city not as abandoned as they had thought?

?There you two are! We've been looking for you! What happened??  It was Zevka, emerging from around an old lonely wall and rushing over the second she spotted them.

?We are safe,? Noonahootin said, sharing a glance and a shiver with Nyika as he let his wing go limp around her. ?The plains to the north of the town are not as they appear, and must be avoided.?

?What happened out there? You're both all...sweaty,? Zevka insisted, wrinkling her nose and wriggling her fingers in an anxious display of curiosity.

?There are geysers within the fields of the valley, erupting at any moment they wish,? the captain hurriedly answered. ?Sinkholes swallow the ground at the slightest of passing weight, and there appears to be a boiling bog as well,? Noonahootin growled, counting each long minute it had taken him to pick his way out of the plane without the luxury of flight to speedily rescue him. ?Oh, and I've spotted some ermine in the area. How goes your progress with the riddles, or is that endeavour abandoned, Miss Blackbriar??

Zevka shrugged and sighed. ?It doesn't go. We moved on. Found some other things, here and there.?

?I need a drink,? Noonahootin loudly announced, sharing a look with Nyika.

?I need a bath,? Nyka murmured, her voice a mere whisper. Zevka, ever watchful over her wildcat charge, grinned.

?I've found something for you both that you'll just love,? the pine marten said, smirking triumphantly. With a victorious strut, Zevka marched a few feet back towards the temple and gestured for them to follow her. ? I found some hot springs after you left us by the riddles. I don't know about you two, but a lovely hot bath and some clean water to drink would be exceptional right about now. There's only a few baths, and us ladies have already staked our claim. It took me ages to figure out this archaic plumbing. The jills are ready to start but we all headed out to look for you two!?

?Ladies first, of course! Hmph, delightful!? Noonahootin smiled gleefully, and then gave Nyika a gentle shove towards Zevka. ?Off you go. It's high time to clean yourself.?

Inside his tunic, against his chest, the blue falcon feather burned.