by Adam Browne
Heath nodded, “Yes. I am. Do you want to know why?”
Sara leant in and seethed, “Linus-”
“I just need to know where I stand,” Linus explained. “Go on, Professor.”
Clearing his throat, Heath did so, “It all stems from my own experiments on the rot, ones quite different to Josef’s. As a young bear I was trying to effect a cure, you see, but to make sure the medicines I developed were safe for others I always tested them on myself first. Always.” The bear averted his eyes in shame, “At some point, I don’t know quite when, I developed an imperium addiction, most probably from my supposed antidotes. I… I don’t have the rot, my body cannot metabolise it and pollute itself with black-imperium in the same way as yours, but I am compelled to sting myself from time to time simply… out of habit-”
“Habit?” Linus woofed, unbelieving of his ears. “Whilst Howlers die from the rot, you w-www-waste imperium for mere leisure?”
Heath’s hoary old face grimaced, “It’s an addiction, young wolf. It’s a different kind of pain to the rot, but just as real as yours and Olivia’s.”
“We have no choice, sir!”
“Nor do I, believe me, nor do thousands of sad Lupans you label gazers and addicts!”
Linus could but snort and huff with indignation as Sara tried to soften the blow. “Linus… we all knew,” she claimed, whatever the truth of it. “Doctor Josef wasn’t telling us anything new. Isn’t that right, Professor?”
Heath grumbled, “Now Sara, don’t get yourself-”
“Ah’m guilty if the Professor is! Ye’ll just have tae arrest us both, Linus. So there.”
The longest time passed.
“You know I won’t, not when I’ve taken you this far,” Linus said flatly. He turned to Olivia, “Look, I… I can take you to my Den if you want, but I imagine you’ve some better arrangement.”
Olivia exchanged looks with her fellow fugitives.
“Well?” Linus urged.
Sara spoke for all, “Tristan said someone would meet us and they’d sort things out.”
“Where?” Linus asked, glancing about. “Who?”
“Well, here, or at the station, Ah suppose,” Sara replied with a shrug. “He never said who.”
“We should go back,” Olivia suggested, a little panicked.
Linus disagreed. “No,” he said flatly. “Josef could still be at the station.”
“Then what do we do?” Heath crackled helplessly.
Linus pondered matters a moment. “I’ve a spot you can hide for now. Come on.”
Between bites of his sandwich, Werner Schwartz watched from inside his Politzi car, watched Linus, Sara and the others crossing the road and heading down the nearest alley. Twirling his truncheon he locked his car and followed them.
~Blick vi~
The bubbling hiss of waves percolating through pebbles soothed Meryl’s ears as she strolled along New Tharona’s seafront. Rafe walked sedately beside her – one of his strides made two of hers. Otters, rats and other seafaring types plied their trades from market stalls lining the cobbled street. Draped with colourful, stripy awnings they offered goods aplenty; fish, crabs, pearls, souvenirs carved from driftwood, it was all to be had for a haggled price. Were Rafe in uniform he might’ve been able to pass off his ‘Howler’ privileges to get a free meal, but Meryl had decided they shouldn’t stand out. So black breeches and tunic it was for him, simple blue dress for her, the high collar discarded for once, though the cravat remained, as did Rafe’s silk ribbon of a tail. Most assumed they were a holidaying couple, no doubt.
Many a wolf passed by; New Tharona was Eisbrand property after all. Some must have even been Eisbrand Howlers on leave. Afflicted or not they all threw the towering Rafe a second look; at least Meryl assumed they weren’t looking at her. Passing a group of well-to-do wolfesses seated around a café table, all of whom stared at Rafe as a collective, the Eisenwolf said in his airy baritone, “All right, ladies?”
They nodded and made niceties, then once Rafe and Meryl had gone tittered at one another over their afternoon tea.
They probably think we make an silly-looking couple, Meryl thought. Awful bitches.
Rafe didn’t seem to notice, even less care.
A rather big and obvious Eisbrand Howler was smouldering over a beer at the next, much cheaper-looking seafront eatery, along with a portly hog. The handsome Eisbrand stared at Rafe and Meryl with duotone blue and green eyes. The hog also looked up from his meal, all but dropping his cutlery as he ran his beady eyes slowly up Rafe’s muscled frame.
“Meryl?” said the wolf, addressing Meryl but staring at Rafe.
“Tristan,” Meryl replied, stopping with her ward. “How are you?” she asked, with forced amiability.
“Fine, fine. You?”
A nod. “Well enough.” At length, Meryl remembered her manners. “This is Rafe, Rafe Stenton; Rafe, this is Tristan Donskoy, an… old friend.”
“All right, mate?” Rafe chirped, big paw extending.
Tristan nodded and stood up to shake, ember smouldering on his lips. “Pleasure.”
Rafe looked to the gob-smacked hog, “Have… we met before?”
“Don’t think so, lad,” the pig snorted at length, getting back to his dinner.
Rafe stared, vacant, struggling.
“Business,” Tristan volunteered to Meryl, excusing the rude hog. He turned to Rafe, “Meryl and I used to fish for tiddlers in the rock pools together,” he explained, if only to break the unbearable silence, “back when we were cubs.”
Rafe snapped from his trance, “Oh yeah?”
Meryl waved a paw, “Seems a lifetime ago.”
“For a Howler it is,” Tristan claimed soberly, adding, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your stroll.”
“And you your leave,” Meryl assumed. “Look after yourself, Tristan. Tell Ivan I said hello.”
“I will.”
The pairs parted company, Rafe giving the hog and Howler a last over-the-shoulder glance. “Nice fella.”
“Yes.”
Meryl sounded rather distracted.
“Graumeer, it’s well-named,” she said afresh.
“Yeah? What’s it mean?” Rafe asked, looking out across the waters.
“Grey Sea. Look at it, even when the sun comes out it’s still as grey as the Lupa.”
“Polluted is it?”
“No, not really,” Meryl shrugged. “Believe it or not the otters say good seawater is often grey or green; means there’s lots of nutrients in the water being churned up by currents. It’s good for the fish. Good for business.”
“So… we can go in it then?”
“Go in it? You mean swim?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be daft, it’s freezing this time of year!”
Rafe squinted at the sun, which hurt his eyes more than it ever did under Lupa’s ashen haze. “Sun’s out, ‘en it?” he sniffed, wiping away some tears.
Meryl didn’t notice, “Yes, but the water’s never warm. It’s fine for the otters, they don’t feel a thing.”
“Aww, come on, just a paddle. Get our feet wet. Yeah?”
With a cheeky grin, which made Meryl scoff with amusement, Rafe diverted them down some steps onto the pebbly beach. Some young otters were playing, jumping off an algae-coated jetty, but nobody else in their right mind braved the autumn Graumeer. It could be argued Rafe wasn’t in his right mind, and had never been since his horrendous induction, but Meryl had no excuse as she slipped off her practical boots, hoisted her hem and joined Rafe in the surf.
“Oh!” she squeaked. “It’s like ice!”
“Cor, ‘en it?” Rafe seethed. “Oooh! Ah! Hahaha!” He looked to the otter cubs watching them from the jetty, “How’d you lot swim in this?”
After some uncertainty, a bold cub replied, “We otters be made of tougher stuff dan you ‘Owlers!”
“You reckon?”
“Don’t see no Lupans in da Graumeer, not even in summer! Yah
all be soft landlubbers!”
The cubs laughed at wolfen expense; no little beast would dare but otters didn’t see themselves thus, least of all their cubs.
“Oh yeah?” Rafe woofed, dashing ashore. “Right!”
“Rafe, what’re you doing? Rafe!”
Before Meryl even made landfall, Rafe had discarded his tunic and picked his way along the jetty. For a second the otters looked worried they were about to be clouted, but the giant wolf leant on his knees and challenged them. “Bet yer a penny I don’t even gasp.”
The otters agreed – this was worth a penny.
“Rafe, don’t!” Meryl shouted, hurrying along the jetty. “The currents are dangerous!”
The cubs went first, bounding to the end of the jetty and diving gracefully into the lazy swell with barely a splash. Pinching his nose Rafe fell in with all the grace of a potato sack falling off the back of a truck.
Ka-sploosh!
Chapter 30
In the blackness of ‘the Pit’ the insidious cold was starting to bite. First it nibbled away at Tomek’s lower half, his toes, his legs, submerged in the icy water as they were, but then his fingers and paws followed. The young wolf twisted his bound wrists, trying to stimulate some semblance of feeling, to no avail.
“My p-ppp-paws are d-d-dropping off,” he told Helmut, in a quasi-joking, worried kind of tone.
“Hold on, lad,” the hog encouraged; he was completely invisible down in this pitch-black hole, but Tomek judged him to be looming slightly ahead and to the left, and above for his great height compared to Tomek. “Think warm thoughts,” he added.
“Is hard,” Tomek laughed, “but, I try.”
“Good lad. It’ll be over soon.”
“It is… for Rufus.”
“Don’t be silly,” Helmut scolded, “they’re not going to execute him.”
“You heard what they s-sss-said,” Tomek sniffed. “Death by ant. They s-sss-stake him out in the wilderness. I’m a Watcher… I-I-I have seen it. Is nothing left after the ants come for you. Not even bone.”
Helmut hushed the youth with reason, “They’re just trying to scare us. You don’t bump off a miner of Rufus’s talent. Nooo! The Warden needs his like to meet his quota and keep his job. You wait and see; Rufe’ll be chucked in a hole somewhere and roughed up, just like us, but he’ll be back to work in a few days, humbled and compliant, or so they think. We know him better of course.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I also know Rufus won’t be broken so easy, and nor will we. We’ll serve our time and come through this with our heads held high.”
Tomek nodded in the blackness, forgetting Helmut couldn’t even see.
Unable to abide the grim silence and thoughts of Rufus’s fate that followed, the young wolf made conversation. “W-www-what did you do, Helmut?”
“Eh?”
“To get s-sss-sent down.”
“Imperium smuggling, of course. I thought everyone knew that by now.”
“Not me.”
“Ah, well,” Helmut chuckled wistfully. “Used to run stings through the Lupan Wall, didn’t I – probably snuck some past your nose once or twice, lad. Hahaha!”
Tomek allowed a tiny snort of mutual amusement.
“I only dabbled in the best stuff, mind,” Helmut was quick to point out. “Proper white venom, nothing that’d hurt nobody. I have my principles. Them being everyone should have access to the good stuff, not just you Howlers. ‘Tis a civil right, in my opinion. There’d be plenty to go around if it were rationed properly. I said as much at my trial. Didn’t do me any favours, probably made things worse, but, well… a hog has to speak as he finds.”
Tomek looked across the darkness. “At least you not trying to hurt nobody,” he sniffed, fighting off his shivers long enough to speak with intent, “Is not like some.”
If Madou and his cousin Zozizou understood Tomek’s meaning they didn’t deign to reply.
Silence returned to the Pit, save for Tomek’s shivering breaths. The wolf was embarrassed that he alone seemed to be succumbing to the intoxicating cold. Helmut was a giant of a pig; doubtless it would take longer for the warmth to escape his thick hide. Madou was short, yes, but built like a rock, perhaps twice Tomek’s weight, so being inferior to him was excusable too. But Zozizou, that skinny hyena? Tomek couldn’t hear him shivering in the dark. No word of complaint left his lips. In fact he couldn’t recall Zozizou ever complaining, not here in this icy tomb and not down the mines either. He never said a word to anyone. Silent as the grave. Uncomplaining.
By Ulf, is even Zozizou better than me, that sad, skinny addict? What is wrong with me? Pull yourself together, Tomek, you are a Watcher!
Tomek determined to stand up straight and be a wolf, but his body had other ideas.
“Gagh!”
A thunderous pain rumbled down Tomek’s legs like a runaway train, boring deep into his bones, his marrow, sapping his strength in an instant and sending him down. Anywhere else it might not matter, save for the embarrassment, but here was not the time or place!
Splash!
“Tomek?” Helmet snorted, thrusting his snout where he judged the wolf ought to be standing and finding nothing but air. “Tomek, lad!”
Splashes and gasps filled the Pit; it sounded like Tomek was thrashing about in the water. Was he being attacked? Was something in the water?
“Helmut… help me!” he cried, his voice punctuated by watery gargles. “Gaahagh!”
Helmut followed the sounds across the Pit. “Where you at, lad!” he said, sloshing desperately around. “Keep talking!”
Nothing.
“Tomeeek!” Helmut squealed, searching the waters with his legs for his arms were tied. “Tomek, where are yah? Tomek!” The hog looked across the Pit even though there was no slither of light to see by. “Lads!” he piped at the hyenas. “Tomek’s gone under. I-I-I can’t find him!”
For a few disturbing seconds, though it felt an eternity to Helmut, the pig heard not a slosh of movement from the hyenas, even less a concerned word.
“Madou!” Helmut urged.
With a mumble aimed at Zozizou in the native hyena language Helmut didn’t understand, Madou tramped nosily across the pit. Helmut could feel the hyena’s body heat on his own naked skin.
“He’s here somewhere!” the pig told him, sloshing to and fro, hoping against hope he might feel Tomek’s body brush against his shins. “He just fell over. I think it’s the rot.”
Calmly, and without a word, Madou ducked under the water, as if bobbing for apples. Not a moment later he broke the surface. The sound of water running off a waterlogged body was interrupted only by the coughing and gasping of said body.
“You got him?” Helmut asked.
“Yesh!” Madou replied through a mouthful of Tomek – no doubt with his paws bound behind him the hyena had resorted to holding the wolf upright with his teeth, biting his shirt or the scruff of his neck, Helmut supposed.
Tomek didn’t have to suppose, he could feel Madou’s enormous hyena teeth against his skin. He was grateful for them, and for the air filling his lungs again.
“You all right, lad?” Helmut asked, his rubbery snout getting in Tomek’s face. “Lad?”
“Yes…yes!” Tomek spluttered. “Let me go. I stand up.”
“Let it pass. Don’t be proud. Madou can hold you, can’t you Madou?”
Madou grunted positively.
For some minutes he held Tomek aloft. The hyena was embarrassingly warm and solid, like a sun-bathed boulder pressing against Tomek’s sodden back, revitalising the stricken wolf. Worse, his corona overwhelmed Tomek, swamping him in a fuzzy embrace that the young wolf realised was a further comfort in this horrid place.
“I’m all right,” Tomek sniffed, suddenly wriggling and elbowing himself free of Madou’s hold. “Is gone now.”
Madou backed off.
For a while nothing was said. The only sounds were ripples slapping against the rock walls an
d drips from the saturated, bodies contained within them.
“Nice one, Madou,” Helmut praised. “Well done, mate. How’d you do that? I couldn’t find him for the life of me-”
“His corona,” the hyena replied bluntly, saying further. “My debt’s repaid, wolf.”
Tomek said nothing.
“Debt?” Helmut queried. “What debt?”
Madou explained. “Tomek knows what I mean. He saved my life back at the Lupan Wall, Rufus’s too. With him gone and my debt paid there’s nothing to tie us. We’ll go our separate ways once we’re out of here.”
Helmut could scarce believe his ears, “What’re you on about, mate?”
“It’s what he wants isn’t it?” Madou growled at Helmut, whilst referring to Tomek. “Terrorist scum aren’t we? Not that the indoctrinated idiot has ever stopped to think what it is that drives my people to fight!”
“Madou-”
“Zozizou and I will find another gang, one made up of our own kind. There’s always places opening up with beasts dying left right and centre.”
“But we need Rufus-”
“He’s dead!” Madou scoffed. “He’s ant food, Helmut, or didn’t you hear your fellow hogs?”
“They wouldn’t do that! It’s barbaric.”
“Don’t kid yourself! You heard Tomek. He’s seen it done. And if that’s what you wolves and hogs are capable of doing to your own kind, we hyenas haven’t a prayer. Rufus is… was different to other Lupans. He spoke truth and reason. And that’s why they’ve got rid of him. Someone up high ordered his death. He obviously didn’t wither away down the mines as quickly as they would like, so the Warden has been told to speed things up. And you wonder why I’m in THORN. Why I fight. Well… Lupa’s going to change soon enough, my brothers in THORN will see to it, and believe me Rufus was all for it. He was on our side!”
“I doubt that, mate,” Helmut said in the aftermath.
With nothing more to say, Madou sloshed back to his cousin. The hyenas whispered in their native tongue, excluding Helmut and Tomek.
So, is this how it was going to be without Rufus? That wolf was a leader all right; one in a million. What a waste, Helmut thought.
