When Pain is All Around

[Brooga Delfan]

And I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it...

?Run while you can, Little One.?

The wolf coughed softly in the darkness. Brooga's eyes squeezed tight shut as she huddled against the stony wall, shivering for all she was worth. Her footpaws beneath her were useless. Her digging claws clutched at her shoulders.

Ashira was dead. The mole hadn't seen every detail of the battle, but what she had seen was more than enough. The blood, so much blood, pouring from the wounds of both ferret and wolf, puddling stickily across the cavern floor, the stench of the same, and the smell of fear and terror mingled with it so potently that even the gentle molemaid could feel it in the air.

?You don't run? You can't have given up already.?

It coughed again.

?I told you to run, Little One. You know it won't be long before I'm on my footpaws again.?

Brooga shrank further against the wall, willing her eyes to open as she heard something shift and groan and chuckle darkly on the other side of the passage. The dull glint from the dying torch illuminated a pair of wicked, golden eyes looming hungrily in the dark and staring towards her with an intelligence behind them that made them a thousand times more terrifying.

That sight, that evil sight!

Something more than fear drove the mole's flight as she tore down the passageway, stumpy little legs pummeling the ground faster, faster, faster! Nothing could be done for Ashira now, save mourn her, and perhaps encourage the others with the fact that she had indeed given the Big Evil a fight to remember. The Fates knew how many times she had repeated that to herself...

She had seen the beast falter.

She had seen its blood flowing freely from its side.

She had heard its voice, raspy and weakened.

Yet her terror rose victorious every time she heard a stone crack against another in the darkness, or when her own breath came so hard that it sounded alien, or when her footpaws stumbled over themselves and threatened to drop her helpless to the ground. And try as she might, she couldn't win. Her cheer had fled before her. The silver lining had faded into the gathering grey thunderheads.

The mole was running for her life, and no matter what thoughts entered her mind, that reality was the only thing she knew.

A sudden whiff of air rolled past her, less stagnant and cool against her tear-damped face. The surface! Thrice blessed surface, where a beast could see the terrors that surrounded them.

And then it came. The eerie wail that had proved the vanguard to the greatest evils of the island. Brooga's knees buckled under her and she stumbled. She was not strong enough for this, not now, now that she had seen the face of the Evil, the face that always followed that awful howling scream and was followed itself by terrible death.

She had been strong before, when she walked with the others, with dear Tassle and mighty Ulrick, and even the menace Cricket. She had even been strong when she walked at Roger's side. But what good had it done her? What good had it done Ashira?

The cry died away, echoing from the rocky walls, and somehow Brooga scrambled upright once again. But she was beaten. She could tell even now. The slightest hint of the wolf's voice would cripple her once again. For the first time in her life, the molemaid almost caught herself wishing for death. But even here, even now, that cold rest would not be welcomed.

The wolf did not howl again. Brooga escaped the tunnels and catacombs beneath the old fortress and slammed her digging claws against the trapdoor time and time again, shouting out terrified words that she could neither remember nor understand when she tried.

They finally let her through, into the light.

It was all the mole could do to keep from collapsing there on the old, stony floor to let her tears run out until they would run no more. But it was not yet her time to fall.

?Mizz Tassle! Whurr be Mizz Tassle and Maister Soilus? Oi have wurds furr both 'ee!?

The molemaid's voice spread through all the old fortress, just as rumbly and low and gentle as that of all her kind. It was strong, too. Almost too strong. Brooga's eyes crossed and refused to focus, and she swayed and stumbled.

?Brooga? Brooga! What happened to you? Where's Ashira??

The molemaid shook her head as well as she could, though in reality she hardly seemed to move. But if her head didn't shake in any meaningful way, it was more than made up for by the fact that her entire body was shaking. The run had been hard, and the fear had been as well. Now that she had finally stopped, she didn't want to move again.

Tassle's paw smoothed the ruffled velvety fur that covered the mole's head. Brooga couldn't see the strained expression that had changed the shrew's face since the last time she had seen her. Even tears could be a blessing in disguise.

And then she finally spoke, her mole-ish brogue little more than a mournful, rattling whisper. ?Hurr, 'ee 'n' Oi'll be seein' hur no more.?

The tears sprung to Brooga's eyes again. She didn't care that the ferret was a vermin. She had been a good fighter and a fierce leader, and without her it would be so much harder. They wouldn't be on the island without her, either, but what good did laying blame do? The mole forced her eyes open.

?Whurr be Soilus? Thurr be things we need to do naow, or...? She choked on her words. The thought of death at the paws of that monster... ?Oi'm gurtly a-feared, Tassle.?

The tears glistened in the mole's eyes as she looked up towards the shrew. And then, right then, she wanted to give up, to curl up and die. The pain would stop, the fear would stop, the sadness would stop, and she could rest.

Not yet.

Pawsteps announced Silus's arrival, as did the weasel's cavalier tone. ?I was told you needed to talk to me??

Brooga nodded. ?Zurr, Ashira's dead, kill't by the Gurt Evil, and we're not safe even oop here. Tassle, Zurr Soilus, both of 'ee are our leadurrs. 'Ee two 'n' Oi 'n' anybeast else who'll 'alp us need to foind a way off of 'ere... t'noight.?

There it was. And the words didn't feel any better now that she'd said them. At least now she knew there still was a silver lining to each cloud. They knew what they had to do.

The only problem was that she didn't know if her beloved silver lining would ever be within her reach again.