Searching For Supper

[Vera Silvertooth]

Vera blinked quickly, holding back the tears that threatened as she watched the hedgehog pocket her amulet. She picked up her apron where the hedgehog had discarded it, brushed as much sand off the tattered blue material that she could, and slipped it back on.

All that planning. All that work. Gone.

She closed her eyes and bowed her head as a hare and otter pulled her paws behind her back and bound them. She heard one of the hares talking to Captain Ciera.

No, I?m not going to call her Captain anymore. Vera allowed herself to be led under the shelter of some big jungle plants and sat down in the sand. She doesn?t deserve the honorific.

Vera looked up again as Ciera, now bound as well, was pushed down beside her. Then she turned her back on Ciera. It?s so much more than simple treasure. Much more than some shiny rock. My brother died trying to keep that amulet. I succeeded where he failed and I won?t let it stay in that hog?s dirty paws.

Weariness washed over her and she stared over the dark sea. In her mind, she could still hear the screams and cries of those who died on the decks of the Silver Maiden. The blood staining the wood, shimmering scarlet in the flickering flames. Blood as red as the ruby in her amulet.

As red as Sarn?s blood when he?d died, still fighting that rat for their mother?s amulet.

?Vera, look, I?m sorry about your necklace,? Ciera started to say. ?That was very brave, but...?

Vera stopped listening and curled herself up into ball. Brave? No, my brother was the brave one. He made them take it out of his dead paws. I?m not brave like him. Never have been. She took a deep breath through her nose and felt a tear slip free.

Her body shook as she held the rest back. Focus on something else. Don?t think about Sarn. She gulped down a few breaths. The Waverunners. Getting the amulet back. Focus on that. Focus on revenge.

That had served her very well before, during the seasons working as a cook in Fort Blackfur, knowing all the time that Captain Rigal possessed her mother?s amulet. Oh, she?d wanted to take it the moment she?d first seen it there in his room. Just grab the thing and run. But she?d waited and planned. She took pains to never let Rigal know just how interested she was in the amulet. Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold. So when the time came, Vera took the amulet, drugged the soldiers, torched that fort, and left who knew how many dead.

I?m patient. I got it back once. I can do it again. She scrubbed the side of her face against her shoulder, rubbing the trail of the tear away.

The Waverunners were all talking to the two hares that had been in the boat with Ciera and her. One of them clapped Fildering on the back. ?Thought you were done for, Fildy. Saw that bloomin? fox brain you and figured it were the end.?

Fildering glanced at Vera briefly, then shrugged. "Mater always said I 'ad a bonce like a blinkin' boulder; an' twice as thick, donchaknow. So, who's th' devil runnin' the show 'round here, wot?"

?Well, Colonel Swiftpaw?s here, but he?s hurt bad. Not much fit for giving orders, I?m afraid. Didn?t happen to see Miss Crue, did you??

Fildering shook his head and the Waverunners compared notes of who they knew was dead and who was missing. As they talked, Vera?s eyes began to droop and she yawned. She huddled down into the sand, closed her eyes, and listened to the drone of voices.

The sun bathed the sea in the colors of blueberries, peaches, and strawberries as it rose above the horizon. The pitiful camp of survivors stirred. Vera huddled in the sand, ever mindful of the guards that had been placed over Ciera and herself. She watched Gerro, the hedgehog who took her amulet, as he got up and began shaking sand out of his quills. A beast walked into her line of vision and her eyes followed him for a moment. It was Fildering. He looked no worse for wear after that little misadventure on the Maiden. She noticed, though, that whenever she took her eyes off of Gerro, she found that hare watching her.

Probably hurt his little pride knowing he got taken out by a kitchen tool, she thought.

?You know,? she overheard an otter say, ?we should get some viddles in Colonel Swiftpaw. He?s as weak as a day old pup.?

?You?re right, mate,? a hare replied. ?A meal might help perk the old feller up. Got much experience in the ol? culinary arts??

??Fraid not, mate. What about you??

?Pshaw, me, old thing? I could burn a salad, wot!?

Vera?s ears perked and she plastered on her sweetest smile. ?Why, if it?s food you need, I?d be only too happy to oblige.?

The shrew that was acting as one of her guards glowered down at her. ?Oh, really??

She struggled into a sitting position. ?Of course. You see, before I made the mistake of taking employment on that horrid pirate vessel, I was a simple cook. Believe me, I had no idea what I was getting into when I got aboard that rickety old tub.?

Ciera stiffened near her at the insult to her ship, but said nothing.

The woodlanders looked among each other and held a whispered conference. Finally, Fildering stepped forward. "After you cleaned my blinkin' clock with that flamin' fryin' pan thingummy an' consorted with the foebeast? Fat chance!"

It was a mallet, longears. Vera lowered her eyes to the ground. ?Forgive me, sir, but as I recall, you attacked us first. Can you blame me for trying to defend myself? Your badger lord was not taking any quarter from anyone. What choice was I left with? As for injuring you, I am truly sorry. I was defending my poor friend Tooley. You yourself must have noticed that he wasn?t much of a fighter. Poor fellow,? she sighed. ?I suppose it?s too much to hope that he survived.?

The woodlanders returned to their whispered conferencing, and Vera sat back patiently, watching the twitch of ears and tails. Who seemed to be on her side? Who was against?

?May I offer a suggestion?? she said after the talk had gone on for a time.

Every face turned to regard her.

?I fully understand that you do not trust me. Why should you? I was allied with your enemy, although unwillingly. I?m perfectly happy to work under guard. I will sample any food I prepare before serving, to prove it?s not harmful to any of you. All I ask is that I?m given a chance to show my good intentions.?

Another bout of whispering ensued and, at last, Fildering turned to face her once more. "Right then, y'villain, you can blinkin' well fix us some tuck, but don't think for one bally minute that the lads aren't flippin' watchin' you. Cross 'em an' y'won't live to scorch another scone, you can count on it."

The nerve! I never scorch scones! One of Vera?s guards untied her paws and she slowly stood and offered a brief curtsy with her filthy apron. ?Thank you so much, noble beasts, for giving me this chance to prove myself to you. I?ll get straight to work. What supplies do you happen to have with you??

With Fildering and Qwirry flanking her, they escorted her over to the small pack of supplies that had been in the life boat they?d taken from the Silver Maiden. She dug through it. Hardtack. Ugh. Dried fish? I hope it?s fish. A canteen of water. And... She popped the cork on a big bottle and took a sniff. Yuck, some of that horrid grog. She stepped back. ?Well, I can?t do much with this lot. I could make a dreadful soup that I wouldn?t wish on the lowliest pirate, but if you two gentlebeasts would be so kind to accompany me, I can see what sort of edibles I can find in the jungle there.?

In response, Fildering?s stomach rumbled.

?Well, don?t try anything,? he said.

Vera emptied out the small pack on the sand and accepted another sack from one of the woodlanders while Qwirry and Fildering took a pair of cutlasses from the group?s small supply of weapons. Out of the corner of her eye, Vera thought she saw Fildering stick something up the sleeve of his uniform.

With Qwirry in the lead and Fildering behind her, they strode into the island?s jungle. Knowing that her survival very likely depended on getting a good meal together for the shipwrecked Waverunners, she turned her entire focus to finding food.

Easier said than done, for the thick, heavy foliage of the jungle was unlike anything Vera had ever encountered before. Moisture seeped into her fur as she brushed past huge, leafy plants. She yelped as a large insect scampered out near her left footpaw. She thought she heard Qwirry snigger, so she twitched her tail and kept going. She noticed a brightly colored bird of some sort flutter overhead with a harsh cry.

I wonder what that would taste like? she thought. No, I?m with woodlanders. They frown on that sort of thing. Ah, well, vegetation only, I suppose.

?Ah!? she cried in delight as she spotted a bright orange fruit high up in a palm tree.

?What?? Fildering asked, holding his cutlass at ready.

?Oh, the port I was working at before so foolishly joining the Silver Maiden had some exotic fruits in the market on occasion. I?ve seen that one before and it?s quite tasty. They called it a papaya.?

?Hmm, how d'we jolly well nick th' blighter, wot?? Qwirry asked.

Vera examined it. ?Well, I suppose I?ll have to either climb up there, or find a stick long enough to knock it loose.?

Qwirry looked at Fildering, who stared at Vera for a moment. Then he gave a start. "Righto, I s'pose. Start climbin', then, fox. We've got y'back," Fildering said.

I wonder if he?s always like this, or if I addled that head of his when I hit him. She approached the base of the tree and examined it?s rough exterior. As she began to inch her way up, she commented. ?My name is Vera, by the way. I?d appreciate if you?d use it rather than ?fox?.?

"Steady on! My 'pologies. No offense intended. Vera it is, then; I'll try an' remember that, wot."

?Fildering, right? I can call you by your name, if I may.?

"Er . . . right." Fildering shifted his footpaws anxiously and stared at the ground, as if to find some form of inspiration there.

Definitely addled. She resumed climbing.

Vera almost slipped and fell twice, but at last she got up to the orange oval shaped fruits. ?I?m going to knock these loose. Would one of you be so kind as to catch them so they don?t splatter all over the jungle floor??

The two hares looked at one another and Qwirry shrugged and thrust his cutlass through his belt. He positioned himself below her, paws out to catch.

It only took a little nudging to loosen the first papaya. She waited until the hare caught it and set it down on the ground before going after another.

Once Vera had the three ripest looking papaya?s loose from the tree, she shimmied down. She managed to get all three papaya in the bag and hoisted it on her shoulder. They walked deeper into the jungle. As they went, she collected bananas, mangoes, and a yam looking root that she thought she recognized from one of her trips to the market.

"Y'know . . . Qwirry, ol' boy," Fildering said as she gathered up roots into the bulging bag, "why don't you toddle on off back t' our camp with this lot whilst we scope th' place about a bit more, wot?"

?I say! Super wheeze, Filder, ol' lad. Right then, I?ll see you back at the bally old beach, sah!?

Vera handed over the two bags of food and then the hare headed off into the jungle, leaving her alone with Fildering.

?Well?? he said.

She smiled, and gave a little nod of her head and continued on. But the back of her neck prickled. The hare was acting odd. She flicked an ear back to listen to him. If he made any sudden movements, she wanted to know.

Then Vera stopped. Listening so intently to him made her suddenly aware of a bigger problem. ?What happened to the birds??

?What??

?The birds. It?s... quiet.? The noise of the brightly colored tropical birds had faded. The leaves rustled in a slight breeze, but Vera heard none of the jungle noises that had become the background buzz over the course of the morning.

?We should go,? Fildering said.

?Agreed,? Vera whispered and turned to head back the way they came. Her footpaw caught on a trailing vine and she stuck a paw out to catch herself as she stumbled. What her paw rested on suddenly moved and she yelped as she fell.

Something struck her leg and pain like a dozen needles lanced through her thigh. Shiny cords of strong muscles contorted around her, pinning her arms. Then the brown, tan, and black coils tightened across her torso as she tried to scream. Breathing hurt and her chest ached. She tried to bite at the constriction, but it was just out of her reach.

Not out of sight, though, was Fildering, eyes wide as he stared. Then he stepped back.

The long snake shifted again and she tried to cry out, but her voice was only a whimper.