A Hidden Sun That Burns and Burns

[Revel]

Revel wondered what geese ate. It had to be something plentiful, for they were always waddling. She, in her opinion, had never waddled before, until now. But she had also never eaten so much that she couldn't swallow another bite, until now.

Geese had to be happy creatures, right up until the moment they were eaten. Joy was a constant force in nature, moving from one thing to another. If two stoats shared one goose, that one goose's happiness would transfer to both stoats - but fill them less than if one stoat had eaten the entire goose.

Revel found this revelation fascinating. Where did brkich come into it? And stew, and corn and potatoes? Whatever brkich was, it must have been happy before it was put in her bowl. That meant that even, yes, apples were happy.

Coconuts probably weren't very happy, she decided.

And, of course, she was happy. The only thing that could have made her happier was being above ground, frolicking off in some meadow with Nivard, so long as he didn't hit her. Oh, and her tail and her head. She would be happier if those stopped hurting.

The feast was long over, and the one-eyed hedgehog and his companions now led them all further into the massive cave system. The distraction of drums had not concerned Revel much - less beasts at the table meant more food for her. Afterwards, the blindfolded beasts had come back to collect her and some of Venril's horde who had the same idea. Their leader, the skinny stoat, did not seem much put out by their lack of discipline - he was beset on all sides by yammering Fritterik. Revel grimaced at the display, unable to figure out why they were so keen on him. She supposed he was a little handsome, lacking any of Nivard's nasty scarring, but how could they stand his piercing, yet watery smell?

As they left the tables behind, Fritterik came out of the shadows and put the torches out, then fell upon the leftovers. The sounds of their eating became like the roar of a river - too loud to hear anybeast talk over, but too much in the background to be a bother.

"Listen to them," one of the older woodland slaves grumbled, once they had gone far enough to hear themselves again. "Barely five minutes ago under attack, and now stuffin' their faces like Redwall's kitchen is bein' locked up for a season after today."

Another slave groaned. "Gwuar, you had to go and mention Redwall, din't you. Mind, I was so starving I coulda sworn that brkich stuff tasted like summer salad..."

"What's that?" Birch asked. She flicked her ears. "Oh. Nobeast is talking to me. As usual."

The tunnel began to slope upwards, all chatter ceasing as everybeast fought to keep their full stomachs contending against gravity; a fight made all the harder with limbs still sore from their earlier digging efforts. The walls narrowed, forcing them into a single-file line for a minute or two. Revel would have grabbed the tail ahead of her for support, but they moved ahead more quickly than she could ever hope to in her current state. Deadtail began to push her from behind, growling.

"Come on, Crinky, keep movin'..."

The passageway opened up again, and a voice to Revel's right startled her into bristling.

"Turn to the left, keep thy paw on the wall. Watch thy step."

"H'come?" Revel said, even as she peered over the edge.

They were on a ledge overlooking the main cavern. It was quite a drop. There were dark shapes scattered below, little mud huts filled with the faint glow of cooking fires, with surprisingly little smoke seeping out. Revel could hear the feasting continuing on one side of the vast courtyard, and,  straining her eyes in the gloom, could see the entry tunnel  where the orange beast, the wildcat, had died. Where the Srechrrl Mivik had come from, as she understood it.

One of the beasts who had witnessed the surprise attack had told it to the final diners. Revel had thought it all a bit silly. Why would these creatures try to eat each-other, when they had such fantastic hantz? The stoat turned and eyed the hedgehog beside her. Well...

"Let's get movin'," Deadtail growled again. Murmurs of assent sounded behind him.

Revel turned and put her paw against the wall, staying far from the edge. The only beast to disregard the hedgehog's warning was the squirrel Birch, who refused to put her paw on anything, despite her wounded ankle. The ledge vanished into another tunnel, this time with a blindfolded mouse giving directions for where to turn. Revel briefly contemplated giving the beast a good kick to see how long it took for him to land, before somebeast tugged her tail, sending her scurrying on with a yelp.

This tunnel went upwards, too, but it was wider, and they went in rows of three or so.

Revel hugged her favourite extremity, rubbing her paws up and down, brushing the fur back and forth, noting the feel of the crink's angle and the misshapen bruises. She brushed the now-untwitchable black tip, whispering soft reassurances to it, as if that would help it heal.

"Zichit, like pritter, yipyip?"

Revel glanced up at a female weasel who was walking between her and the old rat, Deadtail.

"Zichit," she burbled in reply. Pronunciation gave her little trouble, as it had for Matukhana and others from Venril's horde. They treated it like an impossible language they didn't understand. To Revel, it was vocalizations of things she knew and felt constantly. It was the sound of play, of leaping and racing through grass taller than she was; it was the sound of sleep and yearning for the morning while hoping the moon's light never faded.

Zichit was a new dress, or a cool stream of water after the desert. It was Nivard's chest, and the blanket he had let her curl up in on the floor that night. It was her tail, silky-smooth fur kept in fine condition no matter where she found herself. If one's tail wasn't soft, then you had to wonder: just what else was so important that you didn't have a few minutes to take care of it better?

"Zichit," Deadtail said, the word sounding gravelly in his throat. "What's that?"

The weasel just laughed. She grabbed Deadtail's tail - causing him no small amount of concern - and patted it.

"Silly keekee," she said. 'Silly' was a word most Fritterik at the table had picked up early on. "Not zichit."

"Not... broken?" Deadtail said, tugging his tail back.

Revel snorted. "Wicky-chivvers, you're thick - "

The weasel clapped her paws over her ears and ran back down the tunnel, upsetting the procession.

"What was that about?" Deadtail asked. "What did you say to her?"

"I didn't say nothin' to 'er," Revel said defensively. "I said 'wicky-chivvers', but that was to you."

"Well, what does it mean?"

"It's... just 'wicky-chivvers'. Why's it got to mean anythin'?"

"Hm," the rat said. He left it at that. Revel snorted in annoyance.

They seemed to travel upwards for eternity. The one-eyed hedgehog explained that most of the off-shooting chambers they passed by were already homes to specific Fritter, or families of them - all the empty chambers for their guests to sleep in were at the highest levels.

Passing by opening after opening, each one dark as the last, Revel caught snatches of noise and smells. She sneezed at one of them - "Wicky weasels," she complained, rubbing her nose. Deadtail ignored the comment, until he chanced a look behind and saw a weasel stick its head out and watch them warily. The rat asked her what the next chamber had.

"Ferrets," Revel replied. Sure enough, when Deadtail peered at the shape lingering in the chamber's entrance, he caught a glimpse of white mask. His expression of awe was hard to suppress. Revel giggled and made a point of flaunting her ability at every chamber they passed.

"All I can smell is brkich," the rat admitted.

"You 'ave to... to look past - to smell past - what you know is there," she explained. "Just like listenin' to trees. Cedars rattle dif'rent than pines, so if you ignore their sounds, y'can hear where a cypress or a fir is growin'."

Deadtail nodded, as though this made perfect sense.

"Whatever you say."

Revel stopped the game after a dozen or so more chambers. She found herself growing too tired, and yet they were only on the third level. From up here, she could see the ledges below. They dipped and rose, so on the same path somebeast could slide quite easily down to the next ledge, and in other areas, break their neck. And yet some parts of the walls were riddled with pockholes, and Fritter clambered up and down them with ease. Looking closer at the other side, which had its own system of ledges, she saw there were actually some wooden ladders connecting shorter ledges together, and even a few rope bridges spanning the chasm between the walls.

"Aaaare we there yet?" somebeast asked, their 'are' drawn out in a yawn.

"Thy chambers await upon the next ledge," the hedgehog replied. He was now behind Revel, though at what point he squirmed his way through to make it there, she didn't know. "If thee wishes, thee could climb as the Fritter do."

Ahead of them, Birch immediately threw herself at the pocked wall, but only made it a few feet up before sliding back down and moaning about her footpaw and crazy stoats.

Revel paid no attention to further antics; her nose caught a scent so familiar she had wandered into a chamber without thinking. Curious paws surrounded her.

"Shrip vikvi?" a voice said.

"Yikker-chip," Revel replied softly, embracing the creature. She pressed her nose into its neck and breathed in. "Mum."

"Trpcic is not thy mother," the hedgehog said, having followed Revel in. He put a paw on her shoulder. "She has never borne young. Come away, miss Revel, and let her be."

Trpcic, as the creature's name was, followed them back out onto the ledge, letting the light of the procession's torches fall upon her blindfolded face, revealing her to be a stoat. Revel's gaze lingered a while longer, until impatient beasts once again pushed her along from behind.

Revel hummed, losing herself in thought. The damp caves from earlier - and now the old stoat's smell. The smell after rain. That was important, somehow. Why had she thought the old stoat to be her mother? Revel didn't even remember her mother. It was her father who had shown her the fields and farms, who had taught her - yes, her and her brother, there had been two of them - about the forest. They had no names, no faces, no smell. They were just shapes in her memory now.

"Excuse me," the hedgehog said, once again touching her shoulder. "That song thou'rt humming. Where did thee learn of it?"

"I made it up myself," Revel snapped. She trilled a few awkward notes, eliciting an annoyed chirp from somewhere behind her.

"Does it have words?" he persisted.

"I don't know. Stop askin' stupid questions."

A low baritone noise began, as the hedgehog worked his way around the melody, humming it once through. Then he opened his mouth and sang:

"Dream little sweetling. Dream of a valley green.
Far o'er the mountains by the sea.
Dream liddle one, now. One day no more thy'll roam.
Then thy'll awake and find a home.

"'Tis the only verse I can remember," he finished, coughing into his paw. A few of the slaves had begun to weep. Though Revel found it very pretty, and wished him to go on, the woodlander's reaction to it annoyed her. She stomped on ahead, ignoring any more from him.

They reached the fourth level soon after, the last tunnel being less of a slope and more of a simple stairway. Matukhana and his crew had already claimed one chamber, Deadtail and Rath joining them. Revel headed after them, but the hedgehog gripped her arm and pulled her onwards despite her struggles.

Verand and the remainder of Venril's hordebeasts swiftly occupied the second chamber. This left the woodland slaves, who were arguing hotly for their own chamber to not be shared with vermin - the dormouse, Bellona,  strangely quiet about it all. Damask reluctantly followed; Eliza, who had not yet entered any, seemed to relax a little more.

Venril was still being pestered by curious Fritterik. The hedgehog shooed most of them away, except for the female weasel Revel recognized as  the one who had ran away earlier, a stone-faced young otter, and the one little rat who was practically hanging off Venril's chain-mail.

"Follow Zhipzi," the hedgehog instructed, steering Revel to stand by Venril. "Special chambers have been prepared for thee."

Venril stared, aghast. Revel held her nose closed.

"What about me?" Eliza said. "I can't sleep with any of those - those..." Eliza stammered, pointing back at the chambers the corsairs had taken over. Her paw swung around and fixated on Revel. "And I absolutely refuse to share accommodations with her again."

Revel stuck her tongue out and scrunched up her face.

"There are more chambers for thee on the fifth level, if thy wish."

Harrumphing, the pine marten grabbed the torch from the Zhipzi and stalked off to find the next cave leading upwards. She paused at a ladder and whispered, "Ah," before climbing up into the darkness with entirely too much elegance despite her occupied paw.

"Wicky-chivvers," Revel muttered, trying to edge away from Venril. Zhipzi keened and held her paws against her ears again.

"I would ask thee," the hedgehog said, stepping in front of Revel, "not to utter such things about the Chivkis."

"What, wicky-chivmmff!"

"Hush," the hedgehog said, pressing his paw against her mouth. He pulled it away again as Revel's jaws snapped. He glared at her as best he could with one eye. "Where did thee learn that word?"

"I'unno. H'come you smell like stew?"

He rustled his headspikes in laughter. "Who doesn't? Brkich has a strong flavour. I see thee enjoyed it well."

Revel looked down at her stomach as the hedgehog poked at it. Her eyes didn't follow the paw as it moved away again, but instead focused on her tunic, and the now considerable gash in the side that exposed her white underbelly fur.

"Oh," she said quietly, tracing the edges with a claw.

She allowed herself to be led by the paw into the next chamber, which had a small fireplace crackling in the middle of the floor, and scant bedding spread around in the corner. The hedgehog smiled at the two stoats.

"I shall see thee in the..." He stopped and stared at the ceiling. "When thee awake. There is much to discuss, about the Srechrrl, and your being here. I should have much to tell thee, and  I wish thee to tell me much of the outside world. But, later! Rest thyselves now. Just call for Zhipzi and Tishka, and they shall see to thy needs."

He left them then, and whispered instructions to the other two, who snickered and followed him out. Mripat followed upon hearing his name called.

The stoats merely stood there in awkward silence trying to avoid each-other's eyes. Revel flumped to the ground beside the fire and picked at her tunic, cursing under her breath. Venril investigated the bedding in the corner, and sighed as he picked out a rather large specimen of crawlie.

Letting go of her tunic, Revel reached into the fire and pulled out a small stick, flinging it viciously at Venril's back. It clinked off his chain-mail, and he turned around, startled. He quickly stomped out the glowing embers that fell near the bedding, and opened his mouth to chide her behaviour when another stick flew at his head. He ducked this one by chance, then darted away from the bedding after kicking it away.

"What? What are you mad at me for? I haven't done anything to you!"

"Your smell 'urts an' this is all yer fault!"

Venril looked towards the exit with longing. The chamber wasn't very big, and there was little room for him to get safely past Revel without getting in range of her claws. She leered at him.

"Yah, go boil your 'ead, Venril! Sissy-skirts!"

"Oh, hush!" he snapped. "It is not my fault! If you slaves hadn't escaped and ran into these caves, we could be working on finding timbers to fix the ship! It's... It's your fault!"

Revel snarled and flicked another chunk of charcoal at him. Venril flinched, ducking and covering his face with his paws, and it bounced off his armour.

"That's it," he said, striding off to the exit regardless of the danger in getting within grasping range of the female. "You out there, um! Tishka, I need to speak to you about my accommodations. I shall be sleeping elsewhere!"

The otter appeared in a blink, took in the situation, and grinned at Revel as she began to lever another stick out of the fire. He nodded and gestured for Venril to follow - the stoat only just managed to skirt around Revel, the next projectile missing his head by inches and spewing ashes against the wall.

Otter and stoat's voice withered away, leaving Revel to stare blankly at the fire. She didn't want to sleep anymore. She wanted to claw at something, and throw things. She threw another stick at the wall, but it didn't make her feel any better about her tunic. She began to tug it off, thinking to throw it in the fire - that would surely make Eliza hurry up and find her a new dress! - when she caught sight of the weasel staring at her.

"What d'you want?"

"Pritter vikvik? Pritter?" The weasel pointed at Revel's stomach.

"'m a stoat, so what?"

"Prakvi ihn Vakka-shin?"

"Hah!" Revel said. "Vakka-shin iv Nivard."

"Im vikvi Nivard?"

"'E's not 'ere," Revel pouted. "'E's probably still outside eatin' coconuts an' lyin' in th'sun."

Zhipzi stared at her, her expression vacant.

"Yiriki-wizzle lots pritter," the weasel said conversationally, patting her own stomach. "No mooore!" She held her paw out, pad flat towards the ground, level with her waist. "Pratcha wizzle now."

"Aye," Revel sighed, flicking a strip of torn tunic - clearly not listening or watching. "I need to patch it up..."

The weasel stomped her footpaw, the universal sign of annoyance. Shaking her head at Revel, she went to the mouth of the cave and began chittering rapidly, a low, but loud bubbling of syllables to herself.

Revel crawled into the bedding and flicked a crawlie away as it dared to tread on her. Laying back, she closed her eyes. It feld good to be warm for once - though she'd never thought she'd admit to that after walking through the desert. Her stomach, for once, was perfectly still. The only noise it made was the contented digestion of hantz and brkich, and that was something Revel was fine with.

She had almost dozed off when Zhipzi returned, calling out "Rivvil" softly.

Revel drew her footpaws and tail closer as shapes began to flit about beyond the firelight behind the weasel. Zhipzi grabbed one and turned about triumphantly. The young kit squinted its eyes shut as it was whirled about towards the light, and Revel did the same - the creature was no great feat of biology when it came to visual pleasure. Its naked body was still half pink, the fur not yet thickened; the stub of a tail did little for its privacy.

"Pratcha," the weasel beamed, coming forward to stand over Revel. "No more pritter!"

"'s disgustin'!" Revel said, still wincing away as the infant weasel was waggled at her. "Take it away!"

"Lookit pratcha wizzle! You many pritterik, soon pratcha vikvik, yipyip!"

"Yorf," the kit said, as its mother hoisted it up in a too-jerky movement.

Revel stared at her tunic in horror.

Zhipzi lowered her child and let it scamper off.

"Uhhr," she said, "you lick?" She held up her own skirt and stuck her tongue out, miming the motions, and pointed at the stain on Revel's tunic. "Lotsa lick pritterik - haha, wizzle-chip yik!"

Revel, at that moment, just began to cry. She was too tired and even though she was full, she was no longer happy. Her tunic was ruined completely, and she had no dress, she had no Nivard, and she missed the forest terribly. And those were the least of her problems.

Zhipzi tip-pawed out of the chamber again, perhaps to hustle her brood back to sleep.

Though her tears had always meant pain, and sobs had always meant sadness, she felt neither at the moment. Her stomach had begun to move again, as if awakened by the faint smell of milk, and with it, a new emotion overtook Revel.

She had never been so scared before. She could feel it - or them - moving now, the flutterings full-on wing beats.

* * * * * *

"Lovely morn, isn't it?" Rath said, waving his axe her. Revel peered up at the sky, and counted the clouds. Six, plus a flock of geese.

"Aye, lovely morn," she replied, and together they headed into the cornfield. There they found the hedgehog's cottage, where the skinny one was preparing her father-in-law. Eliza was cutting onions, and when she looked up, she had no eyes. Revel laughed at the marten's misfortune until her stomach hurt.

"Food aplenty," Suellyn said. "How are the young 'uns today?"

Revel lay down on the table beside the dead hedgehog.

"They're stupid an' noisy," she said. Rath gave her a coconut to hold as Suellyn came around the table and began to cut away Revel's tunic, then her white tummy fur. Eliza reached in and drew out a baby stoat, and then put it in the stew pot.

"Is that all?" Revel asked, trying to sit up. As she swept her legs off the table, more of them began to spill out of her, all over the floor - dozens of the creatures, until the kitchen was full and Rath and Suellyn and Eliza vanished under the flood. Revel sobbed and tried to close her stomach, but when she did, it just grew bigger until it burst completely.

* * * * * *

She opened her eyes and stared at the wall, watching the shadow of her ear dance to the crackle-beat of the fire. She did not stir, but it was some time before her breath slowed once more, and she closed her eyes again.