Number 10

[Zevka]

For a long time after Noonahootin was taken from them, Zevka had just sat by the bars of the cell, desperately trying to imagine some scenario in which Noonahootin would be showing up again at any moment, alive, well and ready to rescue them. Try as she might, however, she couldn't really make herself believe that that is what would happen. The owl's goodbye had been too final.

So Zevka just sat there with Istvan, trying to keep the otter conscious and half-listening to the story Cleite was telling his brood. What finally got her attention was something very different that came out of Cleite's beak...

"Excuse me.  BLLLLAAAAAAAOOOOOGGHGHGH!" The scholar managed to make the grotesque act of coughing up a pellet seem...almost dignified. Almost. However, Zevka's ears perked as she remember exactly what an owl pellet was.

"Cleite!" She went over to the bars of her cell. "Please throw me that pellet."

"I beg your pardon?" The owl reared up to his full height, and Zevka got the impression that she had just committed a major social transgression. The chicks' hoots of amusement reinforced the notion.

"Just do it, please," Zevka said, peering down the passageway to check for the presence of any guards. "I may be able to use it..."

Her demeanor was enough to persuade Cleite that he was not dealing with a seriously disturbed creature. He complied, and Zevka soon found herself the proud custodian of a warm, smelly ball of fur and detritus. She placed it on the floor of her cell, and began to pull apart the fibrous mass with her claws, trying very hard not to think about where it had just been.

"Found something!" Zevka produced several small ribs and bones that had once belonged to a mouse or vole -- probably not a full grown one at that. Zevka walked over to the door of her cell, and began the process of finding the best pair to pick the lock. The unknown rodent's remains proved well suited to the task, and within a few minutes Zevka had succeeded in opening the padlock on her cell. She gingerly removed it and started to open the door, only to freeze at the beginnings of a squeak.

The marteness and Cleite exchanged worried glances, and for the next few moments all Zevka could hear was her own breathing.

"Get ready," she said. "I'm going to open this door, and try to free you. They'll probably hear and come rushing in here, so I'm going to have to hurry..."

"We will be ready, Miss Blackbriar," Cleite replied, as he and Breda gathered their chicks closer.

"Are you ready, Istvan?"

The otter struggled to his feet. "I will not fall."

Zevka opened the door of her cell, sending a loud whining sound down the hall. She dashed across the aisle to Cleites' cell, and began trying to pick the lock.

"Hey, what's the sound?" There was a pause, and then the question was repeated, this time with more urgency. Zevka's tail bottlebrushed as she kept trying to work the lock. She felt one pin slide into place.

The door of the dungeon burst open as a rat and a familiar weasel walked in. Zevka desperately shut them out of her mind to focus on the bones and the padlock. Another pin slid home.

"Hey, I know that pine marten! She punched me in the face earlier!"

The two vermin advanced swiftly down the the hall towards Zevka, swords at ready.

"Remember, no killing," the rat said.

"I'll bet she can live without her tail..." the weasel said with a sinister chuckle that suddenly turned into a yelp of pain as Istvan stepped out of his cell with a loose brick he must have pried from the wall. He threw the brick at the weasel as hard as he could. It missed the mustelid's face, but hit him squarely in the chest.

Come on come on come oooonnnn.... Zevka knew that Istvan had bought her seconds at most.

The lock clicked, and Zevka yanked the padlock off in the nick of time. Suddenly, the two guards found themselves face to face with an enraged owl. Cleite screeched at the top of his lungs.

The rat was dead before he hit the ground. The weasel abandoned all pretense of valor, and ran from the room, screaming.

"Thank you, Miss Blackbriar. Aislin, Belenus, stay close to me, and move quickly! Nobeast will harm you." The look on Breda's face as she uttered the last sentence would have made the fiercest of warriors take a step backwards.

"Anybeast with ears will have heard the weasel. We must make haste," Istvan said, having followed Zevka. The otter and the marten armed themselves with the swords dropped by the guards.

"Where will you go?" Zevka said as they rushed down the hall. "We could use all the help we can get."

"I cannot let my family, my children remain in danger a moment longer than necessary. I am sorry, but I must take them away from here. We will go back to the Kingdom of the Seven Winds, and rest assured, my sister will know every crime that Tikora has committed against us, against you...and against our father," Cleite said.

"What about Noonahootin? We might still be able to --"

"My father gave his life to make sure that Aislin and Belenus would be safe. We cannot endanger his sacrifice." The scholar's voice was tight with pain, but there was no doubt on his face. The group continued their way out of the dungeon.

"Moirdering poine marten! Moirdering otter! You'm both gurt moirderers! You'm both going to pay for what ee did to moi family!"

Zevka turned towards the harfang, and her eyes narrowed. "Maybe we will. But you won't be the one collecting." The marteness turned and walked out of the dungeon, ignoring the harfang's screams and epithets as she followed Istvan and Noonahootin's family. Suddenly, the marten stopped and gave a cry of delight.

"My saber!" The weapon had been sheathed and stored under the guard desk. Somebeast had tied a bright blue ribbon around the scabbard. Attached to it was a note that read "Nepsy, will you be my mayt?"

The marteness tore the ribbon and card off, completely oblivious to the romance she may have just destroyed. The marteness stroked the scabbard lovingly, then buckled it to her waist.

"Now we're ready."

The owls, the otter and the marten burst out of the dungeon and began to charge through the halls of the palace, bowling over or cutting down guards and courtiers alike as they encountered them.

"This way! To the balcony exit! There should be fewer guards there." Cleite led them away from the main hall.

Gardens? Guess that makes sense, that exit is probably less guarded then-- The marteness suddenly froze as she ran past a room with its door partially open.

"Wait, I have an idea."

The marteness pushed the door all the way open, and found herself in what must have been some Carrigul notable's prized liquor collection. Racks and racks of expensive-looking glass bottles lay before her. A devious grin came onto her face, and Zevka proceeded to do what any mustelid always secretly wants to do when confronted with a room full of breakable, smashy things: she knocked all the liquor racks over, pulverizing their contents.

"Zevka? What are you doing? We have to go." Istvan gawked at her a moment, but then suddenly seemed to understand as she ran out of the room and grabbed a torch.

"Ah, a diversion," Cleite said. "And a rather pricey one at that."

Zevka just nodded, then threw the torch into the room full of spirits.

Cleite's sense of direction proved to be flawless. He lead them through the passages of the palace and up flights of stairs without ever seeming to be lost, and without leading them into a large mob of guards. Finally, they made their way out onto a large balcony that gave what would have been an amazing view of the city, had they been in any position to appreciate it. It was also rather high up.

"Scat. How are we supposed to get off of here?" Zevka growled.

"Each of you pick up one of the children and hang on tight. Breda and I will carry you, and you will carry them," Cleite said.

Zevka complied, and then felt herself being lifted up into the air by the shoulders as Breda took off from the balcony, closing her talons around the marten's arms without piercing them. Next to her, Cleite did the same for Istvan.

"Up there...get them!" Arrows and spears flew past the owls and their mammalian passengers, but none struck home. The owls pumped their wings for lift, muscles clearly straining, but neither dropped their charge. It was not until they were a good distance from the palace that Breda and Cleite gently lowered their charges onto a flat rooftop before landing next to them. Zevka and Istvan set down the owl chicks, who immediately sought out their mother.

"We cannot tarry here. I am sorry for leaving you, but my children must come first."

"We understand," Zevka said, with just a bit more charity than she actually felt for the owl at the moment.

Because you certainly couldn't just have one of you take the chicks home while the other stays and helps us... She sighed. But then, I'm not a parent. Maybe the world just looks so different when you have kits that I just can't think that way.

"Good luck, Miss Blackbriar and Corporal Istvan. If my father lives, rescue him. If...if not..." For the first time, the owl scholar lost just a bit of his composure. "If not...then please make sure that he didn't die in vain."

Zevka put her paw on the owl's shoulder. "Oh, I promise you, we will." She walked over to Breda and hugged her. "Stay safe."

Istvan knelt down until he was at eye level with the chicks. "What you have seen this day...is not what the Mother intended. May she always look after you."

The owls turned to leave.

"Cleite?" Zevka suddenly spoke up. The owl turned his head back to her without turning his body.

"I just wanted to tell you that Noonahootin talked about you all the time. About how proud he was of you, and how glad he was that you turned out the way you did."

"I know, Miss Blackbriar...but thank you." Cleite's voice was level as he bowed his head in her direction. Then there was a flutter of wings, and Noonahootin's family departed the city to return to their home.

--

The expression on Poko's face had said it all. Zevka had found her near the Orange Weasel in the wee hours of the morning, tears still fresh on a her face, making no effort to hide how devastated she was. Zevka, Istvan and Poko had managed to go through the motions of finding a room at an inn called the Leaping Pike, a small, family-owned little place of the sort that Beechton Valash would have wanted nothing to do with. Poko had told them everything -- Aster's appearance, Noonahootin's sacrifice and the sickening revelry of the Carrigul Guard. Hours had passed, and eventually the three had all fallen asleep.

The room was still very quiet early the next morning after the three awoke. Poko lay heartbreakingly still on one of the two beds in the room. Zevka couldn't even begin to imagine what this was like for a kit who had already lost both parents, her guardian and everybeast else she had traveled with for seasons.

Well, if there was ever a chance of her leaving, it's gone now. Zevka thought.

Zevka and Istvan were both sitting on the other bed, alone with their own thoughts. The otter had not wept, but the shock on his normally stoic face had been vivid. Zevka, for her part, was currently going over every cruel thing she had said to Noonahootin when they had quarreled, wishing she had never said any of it, and wishing that she had shared more drinks with the venerable old warrior.

Do you suppose they'll eat him? whispered a nasty little voice in her head as it filled her mind with nauseating images cobbled together from every time she had ever eaten a bird. Unbidden, the memories of her and Mekad field dressing the woodpigeon they had caught after running away from Bayguard flooded into her head. The memory made her stomach churn now.

SHUT UP! Zevka snarled back at it. Noonahootin is NOT a woodpigeon! She suddenly knew what Mekad must have felt like after the public anatomy.

Mekad...Number 10 Zepple Row! Zevka started. She had forgotten. She had actually forgotten for a bit the fact that she now knew where Mekad was.

"Poko, Istvan..." Zevka felt almost guilty for speaking up, but she couldn't stay silent. "I...got Beechton Valash to tell me where Mekad is. I don't know if they've found him yet or not. We need to rescue Mekad, and we need to do it as soon as we can, before they move him...or worse."

"Nyika has been taken as well. We should focus on trying to rescue her from Tikora," Istvan said, firmly but without anger.

"How? The whole palace is on high alert right now. Everybeast there knows exactly what we look like, and Nyika is going to be under heavy guard. We have three beasts, barely any weapons, and no element of surprise at all. We stand a much better chance at rescuing Mekad. If he's in just a normal house, then there can't be that many beasts guarding him, compared to Nyika. And Valash's henchbeasts probably don't know anything is wrong -- unless somebeast found Valash and got word to them pretty damn quickly, they're probably bored out of their minds guarding somebeast they've all gotten used to by now."

"Tikora took my eye! What if she is doing the same to Nyika, right now?" Istvan asked, his voice cracking slightly. "We cannot just give up on her, Zevka."

"We're not!" Zevka turned to look straight at Istvan. "We will get Nyika back or die trying. I promise. But right now, we have a better chance at rescuing Mekad. And if we do, then we'll have one more beast along with us. A beast who can fight, and who Tikora has probably forgotten about."

"What if one of us dies in the rescue, and we are left with even fewer beasts to rescue Nyika?" Istvan asked.

"And you think it's less likely one of us'll die running right back into that castle?" Poko interjected. "It's like somebeast built a fire under every guard there now, the way they're running around lookin' out windows and probing at shadows." She sighed. "Both rescues're gonna be dangerous, but maybe gettin' at Mekad is easier for now. 'Sides you know you'll only have half Zevka's attention as long as Mekad's missing."

Zevka looked a bit guilty at this last statement, but didn't dispute it.

Istvan was quiet for a moment. Finally, he sighed, and nodded.

"Perhaps you are right."

Poko looked down. "I...I had wanted to do something to remember Noonahootin. A memorial. But we don't have anything to bury. Except for this..." The sprite suddenly produced one of the owl's feathers, and looked like she was about to cry again. Instead, she forced back her tears and put the feather away.

"But we won't do it now. Now, we're going to make sure that Noonahootin died for something."

Poko got up and slid off the bed. "I...I think I'm going to go try to find that house where Mekad is being kept and see if I can find anything that will help us get in."

"Be careful, Poko," Zevka said. "I...I don't know what we would do if we lost you."

"Nor do I," Istvan said.

Poko just nodded, and walked out the door.

Zevka turned to Istvan, giving the badly beaten otter a once-over. "Wait here...I need to go get some things from a little shop I saw two doors down."

--

It was only a short time later that Zevka came back with a small satchel, but the marten had already been gone too long. Istvan was kneeling next to the bed, bloody knife in his paw and a look of intense concentration on his face.

"IST--" Zevka suddenly caught herself and closed the door, before rushing over to the otter and crouching down beside him. "Oh, Istvan...no. You've lost way too much blood already! Why did you do it?"

"I...was praying...for Noonahootin," Istvan said slowly, raggedly, as though the words themselves pained him. "He showed himself to be a very good beast: brave, honorable, kind. But I know he killed many beasts and I wanted to be sure...I couldn't risk...wanted to make certain..." For just a moment, Zevka was sure she saw tears threatening to well up in Istvan's remaining eye.

Zevka sighed. "You don't even need to say it, Istvan." She gently took the otter's paw in hers and uncurled his fingers from the knife. "But...I can't lose you, too." She examined the cut on his arm. "At least you didn't cut too deeply."

"No. Give me some credit, Zevka," the otter replied, seeming to become a bit more composed. "I know that we have much work ahead of us."

Zevka opened her bag. "Get on the bed and take your tunic off."

The otter started. "What?!?"

The marteness rolled her eyes, holding up the bag. "You look like you've been chewed up by a giant pike. I got some healer supplies, and I want to patch you up a bit."

Istvan complied. Zevka removed a bottle of strong-smelling alcohol and several large rolls of barkcloth, along with a small knife and a motley but clean selection of cloths, and a bowl. The marteness poured some of the alcohol into the bowl.

"I know you're not allowed to drink alcohol, Istvan, but is there any reason why you can't use it to make sure that you don't go septic? You can't even drink this stuff anyways -- it's made from wood, not grain or fruit."

Istvan hesitated for a moment. "I...I suppose not, Zevka. Drinking alcohol corrupts the life essence of the Mother, but using it to prevent something else from corrupting that same life essence, especially so that I can help to save the Mistress of Spirits? I do not believe that the Mother would forbid that."

Zevka soaked one of the cloths in the alcohol and began to clean one of the otter's many lacerations, trying not to further damage the torn flesh around the injuries. Still, as careful as she was, Istvan still winced and tensed with pain as she cleaned his wounds.

"As though I needed yet another reason to kill Tikora..." The marteness growled as she inspected the injuries more closely. "How could she have done this to you?"

Istvan was quiet for a bit. "She's done worse than that. She and her fraudulent priesthood have made a mockery of one of my greatest hopes. I've spent so much of my life longing for the day when I could be surrounded by others who shared my devotion. And then I find beasts who claim to do so, but it's nothing like what I wanted. I should be used to being alone, I suppose..."

"You're not alone, Istvan," Zevka said quietly, as she soaked the cloth in the bowl of wood alcohol, which darkened to a deep red. She moved around to the other side of Istvan to clean the injuries to his chest.

"No. No I'm not. Not any more," the otter replied. "I've realized more and more how much it would grieve me if you or Poko or Nyika were to be lost. And I've been frightened that you would die or be harmed, and...that's a new feeling for me. All life is supposed to return to the Mother, and yet the idea of any of you being taken back so soon makes me feel only sadness."

Zevka paused at her work and smiled at Istvan. "Right back at you, Istvan. And you're not going to go back to being alone after this. Poko, Nyika and I...we're not going to just forget about you, about how you've saved all of us at one point or another.

"Thank you."

The otter and the marten were silent for several minutes as Zevka picked up the strips of barkcloth and some of the clean rags and began to bandage Istvan's chest. Finally, the marteness finished her task, and put the rest of the healer supplies away.

"Well, I'm certainly no vixen, but at least you look better than you did before."

"There isn't anybeast else I would have rather had do it," Istvan replied. "Thank you, Zevka."

"Glad to have helped...oh, but one more thing." The marteness reached into the bottom of the bag and took out a black velvet eyepatch. The otter bowed his head slightly to allow her to put it on.

"I got this for you. It will help keep anything from getting into your eye. Besides, a lot of beasts don't like walking around with that kind of damage showing. It's a decent disguise, too. You look like a whole new jack."

"Does this jack by any chance sail the seas robbing honest merchants of their livelihoods?" Istvan asked dryly. After a moment, though, the otter smiled.

"Thank you, Zevka."

The otter began to put his bloodstained tunic back on, for lack of anything else to wear. Zevka produced Beechton Valash's coin pouch.

"Beechton had more money on him than I had expected. I'll see if I can get you something else to wear that doesn't look like you just came out of a battle." The marteness suddenly snapped her claws. "Wait a second, scratch that! I know how we can use this..."

"I've been meaning to ask you. How are we going to get to Mekad? A frontal assault would be most risky, given our state and the likely skill level of his jailers."

"I've been thinking about that...and I think I have an idea. It's not the best one I've ever had, but we're out of time, and I think it just might work."

--
"And that's when we'll strike. With any luck, we should be able to get Mekad and get out before an alarm can be raised."

Zevka and Istvan had found Poko on the rooftop of a bakery across the street from Number 10 Zepple Row. The sprite had climbed down to confer with them in an alley. Number 10 Zepple Row looked for all the world like the home of an affluent but not opulent merchant, somebeast who could not quite afford a mansion or estate but was able to maintain a two story house in a good neighborhood. Like much of the city, it looked newly constructed.

"Alright, Zev. I guess that's the best we're going to be able to do. I'll stay out here and watch out for anybeast trying to come to the rescue of the beasts in the house," Poko said. Zevka couldn't help but notice that the sprite did not seem entirely enthusiastic about her plan.

Well what do you expect? She's probably sick to death of all of this constant violence, and worried about us to boot!" Zevka berated herself mentally.

"Are you ready, Istvan?"

"I am."

The two started the across the street, but the short distance suddenly began to stretch out ominously in front of Zevka. The marteness was suddenly painfully aware of her heart pounding against the inside of her ribcage, as though it wanted to tear itself out of her chest. Her mouth felt dry.

We're outnumbered, out-armed, tired, bloody, and only going to get one chance at this. What if it doesn't work? What if we get in there, and we screw something up, and Mekad dies in front of me? The marteness suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, horrible images of Mekad with his throat cut open or his guts spilling out bursting into her head.

"Zevka? What are you doing?" Istvan looked down at Zevka's trembling paws, and seemed to understand what was going through the marten's head. He put a paw on her shoulder.

"Zevka...those beasts in there don't stand a chance." The otter started walking again, paw around Zevka's shoulder. He didn't release her until they were practically at the door.

Zevka pulled a letter sealed with Beechton Valash's seal out of her pocket, then knocked on the door, her paws stable once more.

After a few minutes, a little slot on the door opened, and a pair of hostile eyes peered out at Zevka.

"Get lost, wench!"

Istvan bristled. "I am an official envoy from High Priestess Tikora, traveling with my bodyguard and aide! I demand that you let us in!" The otter took the letter from Zevka and flashed it at the pair of eyes. "Your master serves ours, and he is fully aware of our presence here."

"Alright, alright. Don't get upset over nothing." There was the sound of several locks being unlocked, and then the door opened, revealing a ferret jill with sharp eyes. Her rather shabby clothing did not fully disguise a very fit physique.

"Whaddya want?"

"We are here to alert you to a very serious situation, and to secure your assistance," Zevka said officiously, scowling down her muzzle at the ferret. "This is a matter not to be discussed in the presence of passers by."

The ferret pointed at Zevka's saber. "Your sword...you're going to have to leave it here."

Istvan bristled. "It is the most exalted servants of the All Mother that she serves, not rabble such as yourself. She will remain under arms so long as I see fit for her to do so. If that is not clear to you, perhaps you will take the matter up with High Priestess Tikora."

"Look, tats or no tats, I don't know you or her from the fishmonger."

Istvan doffed the cloak that Zevka had put over his shoulders for the journey from the inn, revealing his bloodstained tunic. The ferret started.

"Heretics from outside the city have attacked the palace itself, defiling the Mother's holiest of sanctuaries, and murdering some of her priests." Istvan growled through clenched teeth. "I myself escaped death thanks only to the All Mother's mercy. My bodyguard will keep her arms for so long as this threat persists! Have I made myself clear?"

The ferret stared at Istvan for a moment. Zevka's heart raced.

Come on...go for it. Go for it. Please go for it...

Finally, the ferret shrugged. "Suit yourself. Kind of unnecessary, though. It's not like anything interesting ever happens in this part of town anyways." She led them into the house. Inside the main room sat two other beasts -- a wiry rat and a burly fox -- who were playing cards while a pan full of sauce cooked on the nearby stove. They looked up at Istvan and Zevka, but did not appear overly interested in their presence.

"So, what does B.V. want us to do for you?" the ferret asked.

"Our forces took numerous casualties during the fight against the intruders, and High Priestess Tikora believes that we require reinforcements. She instructed Mr. Valash to direct you to give us your two best fighters to reinforce the palace," Zevka told the ferret, handing her the letter.

The ferret scowled as she unsealed and read the letter. "And so he did...but doesn't Tikora know that we have a wildcat in this house?"

It took all of Zevka's self control not to scream from joy. As it was, she had trouble coming up with an immediate response.

"What beast, even a wildcat, could be more important than guarding the Mother's most precious and illuminating gift to this world?" she finally said. "The All Mother has sent High Priestess Tikora among us to light the way to the All Mother's sublime love. Now heretics seek to destroy that gift. We must not let them."

The ferret looked more resigned than inspired. "Well...I guess I don't have much choice in the matter, do I? Bezo, Dworpa, get over here. You're going to the palace."

The fox and the rat got up from the table, albeit with a distinctly insolent air to their actions, and came over to stand in front of Zevka and Istvan. The rat was wearing a rapier, while the fox had a heavy axe strapped to his back.

The ferret just shook her head. "What kind of crazies decided that attacking the palace was a good idea? Amazes me that there are beasts that stupid in the world. Anyways, sorry, you two. I know none of us likes spending time around that bone-laden crazy and her tattooed pals, but orders is orders."

Zevka circled the two beasts once, giving them each a thorough once over.

"So, you're sure these are your best two fighters?" she asked.

"Yep. Absolutely deadly, the both of them," the ferret replied. Indeed, both wore their weapons with the air of beasts who were intimately comfortable with their chosen forms of armament.

"Excellent. Do you know where--"  In the middle of her own sentence, Zevka suddenly ripped her saber from its scabbard and sliced open the fox's throat in one swift motion. The vulpine dropped to the floor, blood spraying out. Zevka slashed at the rat's stomach, but the rodent was shockingly fast, and even with the element of surprise against him, he managed to draw fast enough to parry her. The rat made several quick thrusts at Zevka, each of which she barely managed to block, losing ground in the process. The questing blade forced her back again and again, until finally she pressed into one of her parries, forcing herself closer to the rat.

Istvan, meanwhile, leaped at the ferret, but the mustelid grabbed the otter's arm and twisted, redirecting his momentum and tossing him to the floor, then immediately following up with two hard left hooks, one of which struck Istvan's blind eye. The otter surged forward, catching the ferret with a knee to the chest, but the mustelid ducked the otter's roundhouse punch and responded with a series of quick jabs and a kick to the chest.

The rat suddenly twisted his wrist, sending Zevka's blade out of her paw. He started to pull back for a final stab, but she caught his arm in one paw, slipped the other around the back of his head, and crashed her knee into his face repeatedly. Using a move Nessa had taught her, she took both of them down to the ground, stretching the rat's arm out flat. The rodent refused to give up his sword, even as she wrenched his arm downward in a manner that had to be causing great pain. Zevka craned her neck around and bit down into his wrist with all the force she could generate, feeling the bone under the skin give way. The rat finally lost his grip on his sword, which Zevka grabbed and tossed away. She started to go in for a bite to his throat, but his other fist caught her squarely in the face, knocking her over.

Both combatants scrambled to their footpaws. The rat pulled out a knife and slipped into a practiced stance. Zevka dodged out of the way of his first attack, but wasn't able to totally avoid a second slash that scored across her forearm, drawing blood. She dashed to the stove and grabbed the pan, then plashed the hot contents on the rat, who barely reacted at all. He drew his paw away just in time as the pan sailed through the space it had occupied. His next thrust of the knife struck the heavy cookware with a hollow clang. Zevka made several unsuccessful attempts to hit the knife out of his paw, before a thrust from the rat grazed her side.

Time for something else... The marteness feinted, and then smashed the pan into the rat's already injured arm. The rat gave a roar of pain, and Zevka seized the chance to hit across the face. He dropped the knife. The marteness scooped it up and pounced, sliding the blade deep into the rodent's throat. His eyes bulged.

Meanwhile, Istvan and the ferret were still trading blows. Istvan suddenly gave a loud growl, and picked up the whole table, swinging it at the ferret. It bounced her against the wall, stunning her. The otter surged forward and punched her in the face. She went down like a sack of bricks.

For a moment, there was silence, except for the sound of the rat twitching and clawing at his own throat as his blood sprayed out. Istvan and Zevka's eyes met, then Zevka made a dash for the stairs, grabbing her saber on the way. As she reached the top, she knelt down and came across the corner blade first, stabbing deep into the thigh of a weasel who was waiting for her. As he shouted in pain, she punched him with the hilt of her saber, then finished him off. Another weasel charged at her from down the hall, sword swinging downwards at her head. She parried the first blow and swung her blade at his throat. He ducked and tried to stab her several times, but she blocked each blow, before sending a ripost into his chest. Twisting her blade, she pulled it out and sliced his neck open for good measure, leaving her in a hallway with three doors.

Zevka kicked the first door open. It was an empty bedroom.

The second room had a large padlock on it. Zevka hurriedly searched the bodies of the two weasels, and found a ring of keys. She opened the lock, and walked into the room.

And there he was.

"Mekad!"

"Zevka? ZEVKA! ZEVKA!"

The wildcat tried to leap up to greet her, but was prevented from doing so by the chain that linked a collar around his neck with an iron post.

Zevka quickly found the right key to release the wildcat from the collar. He rubbed his neck briefly, then grabbed the marteness in a crushing hug, lifting her off the floor a bit and spinning around with her, before setting her down.

"Zevka! I knew you'd rescue me, I knew it!" The wildcat's expressive face was lit up with the kind of pure, unadulterated  joy that made Zevka's heart go soft.

She looked him over once. The wildcat's left paw was covered in a bloody bandage, as though his claws had been torn out, and his chest and back bore the marks from repeated floggings. Worst of all were the burn marks that dotted his chest. Apparently, the only thing his captors hadn't done to him was starve him: he looked as fit as ever.

"What did they do to you, Mekad?" Zevka asked, stroking the side of the wildcat's face with her free paw. "What did those lunatics do to you?"

Mekad's eyes darkened a bit. "Beechton Valash gave me to the priests for a few weeks. They wanted to break me down and make me into a kind of berserker for their All Mother. They did things like beat me and pull my claws out while forcing me to listen to their preaching for entire days on end. Valash eventually took me back, though...said that he was going to kill me on his own schedule and nobeast else's, and that they would ruin everything if they killed me before you got here. He wanted to wait until right after you got here and then kill me and make it look like Yew Guards did it."

Zevka hugged him close.

"Beechton's dead. I killed him for what he did to you, Mekad...and we're going to try to make sure that Carrigul can't kill anybeast else...oh, I have so much to tell you, Mekad!"

"How did you get up here and find me before Beechton had me killed?"

"I abandoned the Green Pine and found a caravan traveling to Carrigul, made up of Yew Guards, a performing troupe called the Dewhurst Players..."

"I remember them!"

"Well, they're all dead now, except for one ferret --"

"The entire troupe? All dead? Cor!"

"You don't know the half of it. We were traveling up the mountain, but there was an avalanche, caused by a tribe of moles."

"Moles!" Mekad grimaced. "There are moles who know how to trigger avalanches? Dammit, I was just starting to feel safe again."

"I know, right?"

"And you survived the avalanche and found some other survivors and made the journey up to Carrigul together?"

"Exactly!" The marteness beamed. "Oh, Mekad, I have so much, so damn much, to tell you." Her ears perked up. "But we need to get out of here, now. We have a place to stay. I'll tell you the whole story later."

The marten and the wildcat ran out of the room together, but were stopped in their tracks by a voice in the hallway.

"Don't move, either of you!"

Both beasts froze in place, as Zevka cursed herself mentally.

The third door! I totally forgot! The marteness snarled in frustration and anger. I find Mekad...just in time to get us both killed because I wasn't bright enough to check every door in the place.

Zevka and Mekad turned around to face the beast who had come out of that door. He was a frightened-looking, barely-adult stoat holding a crossbow in shaking paws.

"Don't move! Don't either of you move! Don't move!" The stoat seemed like he was repeating the instructions partially to cover for the fact that he didn't know what else to do or say.

"Oh Fates, you killed them! You killed them all!" The stoat's eyes were wide, and his crossbow shook even harder. "Don't move!" He screamed, more shrilly than before.

Mekad looked straight at the stoat. "Tevel? Do the smart thing, and put that crossbow down, before you kill yourself."

"I'll shoot, I swear!" the stoat's voice was near hysterical.

Mekad raised his paws in a calming gesture. "Tevel, if you fire that crossbow, you will maybe hit one of us. Then the other one of us will tear you apart. I heard you through the walls talking about how you have a new kit on the way, Tevel. Is shooting one of us really worth not ever knowing if it's a jack or a jill?"

"You'll kill me if I put this down!" The stoat seemed slightly calmer, and his paws didn't shake as much, but his voice had adopted a pleading tone.

"No, we won't. I promise you, we won't kill you. And that's the best offer you're going to get today," Mekad said. "Think about it: is this worth never getting to feed your kit, or watch their first wardance? Is it worth them spending their whole lives wondering what your voice sounded like?"

The stoat looked like he was beginning to tear up a bit.

Mekad pressed on. "You're not accomplishing anything here, Tevel. Put down the crossbow. I'll lock you into the room I was in. There's some food and water in there, and a chamber pot. When the second crew comes to relieve you in a few days, they'll find you and let you out. Then go home. Go hug your mate, and wait for your kit to be born."

The stoat slowly crouched down and put the crossbow on the floor, still looking as though he half expected Mekad to pounce on him. But Mekad didn't. Instead, he walked forward and picked up the crossbow, before seizing Tevel by the shoulders and moving him forcefully but not violently into the room and shutting the door.

The wildcat walked back down the hall to join Zevka, who just shook her head.

"Only you, Mekad. Fates, I've missed you..."

"I've missed you too."

The wildcat looked down at the two dead weasels. "Your handiwork, I take it?" The wildcat bent down and took one of the weasels' swords. "This'll have to do for now."

"I'll try to find you something better."

The two headed downstairs. Mekad suddenly hissed, his fur standing up on end while his ears backed and his tail went rigid.

"Zevka, a priest just found --"

"Wait!" Zevka reached out and grabbed Mekad's tail stopping him from advancing on Mekad. "That's Istvan, a friend of mine!"

"You made friends with one of those All-Mother worshipping head cases?"

Zevka shook her head. "Istvan's one of the Yew Guards who survived the avalanche! He's not like the priests from here, he's from far away. He's saved me more than once, including when I got kidnapped by moles. We can trust him, Mekad."

The cat was starting to calm down, but still frowned at Istvan. "Sorry. A friend of Zevka's is a friend of mine...but the other faces I've seen those tattoos on were all torturing me."

Istvan nodded gravely. "These frauds are an affront to all of the Mother's true teachings. I would not wish for you to judge our faith by their actions."

Mekad's eyes were still narrow, but he nodded. "I'll try not to," he said a bit curtly.

"Time for us to get out of here!" Zevka said.

There came a sudden groan from the floor as the ferret that Istvan had knocked out began to stir.

"Wait a second...we should ask her if she knows anything about Tikora. Mekad, would you do the honors?" Zevka asked.

Mekad nodded. He propped the ferret up against the wall, then leaned in until his face was inches away from the mustelid's. He gave a sudden loud yowl in the ferret's ear.

The ferret woke with a bit of a shriek as Mekad suddenly changed from yowling to hissing. The ferret pressed herself against the wall, trying to get away from the wildcat. He grinned.

"That's right, Teshna. I'm loose."

Zevka sidled over.

"Glad you're awake. Now, I happen to be the only thing between you and a very angry wildcat that you've been holding prisoner here. So you'd better tell me something interesting about Tikora very, very soon."

Teshna grimaced. "Tikora? Heck, whaddya want to know? I was one of her palace guards for a while until Beechton hired me away from her. Much better boss than she was, too. She was just far too crazy for my tastes, and much too fond of killing beasts in fits of rage. Anyways, I have no intention of going back to work for her, so ask away."

Zevka leaned forward. "I've lived in fortresses before, and one thing I know is that you never, ever design a fortress so that your enemy can keep you completely trapped, or so you yourself cannot get back in if it is ever taken from you. Where are the hidden entrances? I know there have to be some."

The ferret jill nodded. "In the gardens, there's a statue of Tikora. It's bolted down, but if you remove the spikes, two of you should be able to push it off of its base. There's a trapdoor underneath where it sits. It leads to a staircase hidden in Tikora's library. There's always a guard on duty outside the statue, but not enough to attract attention."

"Does Tikora's bedchamber have any guards inside it?" Istvan asked

"No. Tikora was always very particular about her privacy. She even has this little pulley thing so that beasts can send food up from the kitchens without going into her bedchamber. Came in handy when Zander was about..."

Istvan asked Teshna several additional questions. Zevka, meanwhile, was starting to get antsy.

"Istvan, we can't stay here too long. What if somebeast finds...what if somebeast gets wind of us being here? We're vulnerable right now."

"You're right. But what do we do with her?" Istvan asked.

Zevka put her paw on her sword. "She knows what we're going to be trying to do. And we can't really trust her not to tell Tikora..."

"Zevka..."

The marteness looked over at Mekad, who was giving her a knowing look. The wildcat folded his arms.

The marteness sighed. "Alright. We'll knock her out, take her upstairs, lock her in the room you were in and take the keys. You're sure that second crew won't be coming by for a few days, though?"

"Positive. They only left the day before yesterday."

Istvan grabbed Teshna by her lapels, but Zevka suddenly stopped him.

"Wait, one more question: what do you know about Guardsbeast Vanessa Fern? Did Beechton take her captive, or somebeast else?"

"Nessa? What does she have to do with --"

"I'll explain later, Mekad," Zevka said. "It's a long story. Now what do you know, Teshna?"

All she got was a blank look.

Zevka growled. "If I ever find out that you knew something...Grah! Istvan, we need to go!"

The ferret just looked resigned. "Okay, then. Just hit me."

Istvan obliged.

The otter, the cat and the pine marten walked outside, closing the door behind themselves quickly so as to prevent any passersby from seeing the carnage inside. Mekad began blinking furiously.

"I...didn't get a lot of sun in there. Forgot how much I like it."

Zevka just smiled.

"Come on, we need to find Poko."

They quickly located the sprite across the street. She hopped down nimbly from her rooftop perch, landing on a crate that put her almost on eye level with the wildcat.

"Mekad? Nice to meet you, I'm Poko." She reached out and shook his paw.

"Our little trickster extraordinaire," Zevka said, reaching out and ruffling the ferret's headfur. "You know, she's the one who got me out of the mess I got into with Beechton and made it so that I could rescue you."

Mekad smiled. "Thanks for taking care of Zevka, Poko." He gave the ferret a hug.

"I have so much to tell you, Mekad, and so little time." Zevka said. "But let's get out of here and talk in private. We have a room..."


--
Sometime later, Zevka, Istvan, Mekad and Poko walked in the door of their room at the Leaping Pike, arms laden with flagons of cherry fizz, bread and the innkeeper's homemade hotroot-crusted salted fish. They spread out one of the blankets on the floor like a table cloth, and began to dig in.

"So Zevka, I don't even know where to start. How did you get up here? What happened to the other beasts who survived the landslide? And why would Teshna know anything about Nessa?"

Zevka told Mekad everything, with Poko and Istvan periodically breaking in to tell their own parts of the story. She told him about the terror of the rockslide, her first meeting with Nyika and Poko, Nessa and Istvan's journey beneath the ice, the night of drinking with Nessa that had claimed their foodbag, and the argument with Noonahootin that had followed. She told him about being dragged down into the earth with Gashrock, about how Istvan had saved her, and how she had saved Poko but nearly lost Nessa in the process. Her story took Mekad from the mountains, through the temple, into Carrigul, down into the dungeons, and even into the darkest part of her soul -- she didn't try to hide from him what she had done to Beechton Valash.

The wildcat listened in amazement, frequently interrupting to ask questions. Finally, the trio worked their way up to the death of Captain Noonahootin, and Mekad's rescue. The wildcat just leaned back, shaking his head.

"Zevka...it's almost too much for me to take in. You...you went through all of that to save me?"

Zevka just smiled. "Do you even have to ask? But there's one more thing I didn't tell you yet. Mekad, remember a long time ago, when I found you after the public anatomy lesson? You told me the story of your mother's death, how they found her with her body mutilated, and the killer had made off with her kitten?"

"Yes...?"

"I think ... I think I found her."

"What?"

"Remember I told you that Risk was very protective of Nyika? Well, it turns out that she didn't know him, but he knew Nyika. Risk cut her out of your mother, not as a form of mutilation, but to keep her alive. He killed your mother, but he couldn't kill Nyika. He took her out, saved her from dying, and eventually gave her to some foxes to raise."

Mekad's eyes went wide with shock. "Wait...what?!? RISK killed my mother?  But...but he saved..." Mekad's face looked like he was on the brink of a total emotional overload.

"I know it sounds insane! But the stories match up, and Risk's ghost..." Zevka was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that Mekad might not view the incorporeal spirit of his parents' murderer as a source of absolutely credible information. "Risk's ghost told her that it's true. And his knife matches a knick on her ear exactly. She looks like you, she smells like you, and it just fits.

The marteness leaned in close to the wildcat, putting her paw on the side of his face. "Mekad, what I told Nyika was this: we don't know what happened. Everybeast who actually knows what happened is dead. All we can do is make up our minds: do we want it to be true or not?"

For a few seconds, Mekad was silent, and his face was blank. But then, his face lit up, from his eyes to his muzzle, and he grabbed Zevka's shoulders.

"You mean my mother's kitten survived? I have a sister? I have a sister! Oh, seasons! Zevka! I...I..." The wildcat's word's quickly failed him, and he just pulled Zevka into an embrace, crying tears of joy into her shoulder. Then he pulled back, and dried his eyes.

"And I cannot lose her again."

"You won't, Mekad," Istvan said.

"We've a lot of work to do, but we have some time to do it. We can't just run back to the palace right now; we should wait until things settle down a bit," Zevka said. "We're going to need some supplies -- non-bloody clothing, some rope, maybe some lamp oil in case we want to set anything on fire again, that sort of thing. You need a sword that is the right size -- not to mention a bow, in case Aster comes back. I'm sick to death of trying to fight birds with swords and claws. Aster shows up this time, we're putting an arrow up his cloaca."

"His what?" Mekad looked at her strangely.

"Never mind, Mekad," Zevka replied, putting her face in her paw. "That's one book I wish I hadn't read."

"We should get some sleep, too," Poko said. "None of us could sleep last night, and we can't be exhausted when we do this."

"Good idea, Poko."

"I'll make sure those cuts of yours are completely bandaged up," Mekad said to Zevka.

"And there's one other thing we should do." Poko refilled each of their cups with cherry fizz, but she was as careful and solemn about doing this that it might as well have been expensive damson wine.  A fifth glass lay untouched on the table, each of them silent as they spared a moment for their missing companion, still in the clutches of Tikora. Poko picked up hers and raised it up.

"To the memory of Captain Noonahootin, a brave, selfless old bird who died fighting to save us. He was betrayed by a beast he trusted, left to die, had his wing injured and his family put in danger, but he never gave up, and he never lost his courage. He saved us, and saved his family. Goodbye, Captain Noonahootin. We won't ever forget you."

Zevka spoke up next. "To Captain Noonahootin, an officer and a gentlebird. One of the scariest beasts I ever knew, and one of the best. He was all the things a Captain was supposed to be -- smart, brave, and devoted to the beasts he was leading. We'll miss you, Captain. Say hello to our friends for us."

Istvan was next "For all his sins, he cared for all those under his command like a father should his children. I would rather not have been led by any other beast, and I only hope that he finds peace in the arms of the All-Mother."

Finally, Mekad raised his own cup. "Captain Noonahootin, I never met you, but I owe you more than I could ever repay. You brought Zevka through the mountains and back to me, along with Nessa and the sister I never knew I had. I promise I'll do what I can to make sure that everybeast you helped save makes it out of here. Thanks, mate, and rest well."

The four beasts clinked their cups and drank them dry.