by Adam Browne
“He went into the van,” Olivia said with a shrug.
“Ah. Fiddling with the suit, no doubt.”
“Suit?”
Janoah said nothing. Joining the girls by the sick Eisenwolf’s side, she stroked Rafe’s fevered brow. “Monty and Penny?” she purred afresh, head cocked. “Who’re they?”
“Nobody,” Sara said simply, and all too quickly.
“Nobodies that want to hide a dodger.”
“They’re just old friends of ours. Farmers.”
Janoah laughed at Sara’s transparent lies. “My dear, farmers don’t attend Summits,” she said, glaring at Olivia, “Do they? No, I’ve heard those names somewhere before.”
The girls exchanged looks.
Suddenly Josef Grau emerged from behind the van, wiping his greasy paws on an oily rag. “Are you talking about Montague Buttle?” he mewed. “That mad ginger cat?”
Janoah blinked rapidly at the Doctor, “Friend of yours as well, is he?”
“He’s no friend of mine! He’s that balloonist fool who’s always on the newsreels. Thinks we’re all going to sail about in his ridiculous, bloated contraptions.”
“Balloonists?” Janoah pondered.
“They’re nae ridiculous,” Sara defended. “Monty and Penny Buttle are visionaries.”
Josef spat, “Visionaries? No, no, no, if beasts are ever to fly it is by emulating nature, not fighting it. When was the last time you saw a bee inflate itself and float from flower to flower? Never! They have wings and flap with skill and purpose. Heavier than air flight is the only way to fly effectively, none of this balloon nonsense.”
“They’ve been very successful Ah’ll have ye know.”
“Successful? All Monty’s dirigibles do is catch fire and crash! I understand he’s due to fly over the Summit as part of some self-promotional stunt.”
Janoah repeated “Fly over the Summit?”
“Yes,” Josef confirmed. “Don’t be surprised if he comes down in flames, as per usual-”
“By Ulf!” Janoah woofed, slapping her brow. “That’s it! That’s how Amael’s going to do it!” Suddenly she lurched across the table, over the unconscious Rafe, and grasped Sara’s forearm. “Where are they?” she demanded of her.
Sara squeaked, “Let go of me-”
“Where do your friends keep this balloon? Answer me!”
“At their farm. Why?”
“Where, girl, the address! Spit it out!”
“What? Ah, Ah don’t know exactly. It’s just called Rumney Farm. It’s… it’s in the middle of nowhere, Monty and Penny usually pick me up.” Sara thought for a moment, “It’s in Grunrose District. Ah can probably show ye on a map-”
“Grunrose? That’s on the other side of Everdor!” Janoah spat.
Releasing Sara, she ran for the door.
“Where are you going now?” Josef demanded.
Janoah stopped for nobody; there was no time. She strode through the ALPHA train as fast as dignity allowed, passing Prefects Grand and not, saluting the Alpha at his desk, blanking Horst, then on to the next carriage, past where Uther was being held, until she reached the door to the Bloodfang section of the train.
It was gone!
“Schmutz!” Janoah seethed.
Peering through the door’s window, she watched the Bloodfang carriages ease away through the train yard, taking Vladimir and Linus with them. It can only just have decoupled.
What now? Think Janoah! There must be someone else; someone who can follow your hunch up without raising the alarm and ruining all your careful positioning. Who? Who!
Maybe. Could he? Yes, yes, maybe!
Janoah rushed back through the now decoupled and powerless Alpha cars, the lamps lining the corridor flickering either side of her as the gas pressure from the engine faded and the last dregs of imperium energy were burnt off. She came upon Uther’s cell and the two prefects guarding him.
“Marm,” they saluted.
“Hello boys,” Janoah replied amiably, tapping the glass of a dying lamp. “Looks like the Alpha’s defaulted on his gas bill.”
“Puh! The cheek of them Bloodfangs!”
“Unbelievable that Balbus! He’s a tyrant, marm.”
“We’ll show him yet,” Janoah assured, heading inside the cabin under a smokescreen of friendly banter – no questions were even asked.
Once inside, Janoah closed the door and sat on Uther’s bed, causing him to wake in alarm and roll against the wall for fear of being dragged out and beaten senseless again.
“Janoah,” he gulped, eyes darting. “Whatcha want?”
No reply.
“I… I signed me confession. I did what you asked. Just leave me alone. Please.”
Janoah produced a sting from her cloak pocket. The bloodied, bedraggled Uther eyed it hungrily as the wolfess waved it to and fro.
“You want to be a hero, Wild-heart?” she whispered. “Then shut up and listen, we’ve little time.”
*
Despite Amael’s latest fit of pique, which Linus had heard through his thin cabin door, it had taken a good half hour for the Bloodfangs to gain clearance from the officious Hummel train hogs at the station and actually get underway. To simply manoeuvre onto the main line again as if driving a mere car about town invited disaster by risking a collision with another train.
Thus, despite dramatically decoupling, the Bloodfang train sat awhile within sight of the abandoned ALPHA carriages, both sides staring at one another through the windows in mutual disgust.
At last, the Elder Train pulled away from the station, leaving ALPHA behind as Amael so desired.
Linus fell back on his bed, exhausted. He almost wished Vladimir hadn’t confided in him, that he had instead remained ignorant of the great affairs swirling around him.
He punched the bed and snarled with frustration, “Uther, you poor fool! How could you?”
The cabin door opened. Rising from his bed, Linus was met with none other than Vladimir.
“How are you?” the Grand Howler asked loftily, referring to Linus’s recent interrogation at the paws of Bloodfangs. “Weren’t too rough were they?”
“They didn’t touch me,” Linus replied.
“You said nothing?”
“Not about Amael’s plot, if that’s what you mean.”
Vladimir nodded appreciatively. “I dare say bringing Uther down saved your life,” he said. “And the Alpha witnessing your actions proves your innocence… for now. Had you stayed whimpering over Vito’s body, Amael could have blamed you for his murder and shot you here and now for expediency. Case closed. As it is, you’re a hero.”
Gulping, Linus excused himself, “I-I-I need to check on the girls.”
“Don’t bother,” Vladimir sniffed, subtly locking the door. “They’re gone.”
“What?”
“They’re back at the station.”
“With ALPHA?” Linus woofed, looking out at the retreating station.
Vladimir raised a paw, urging Linus to keep his voice down, “With Janoah, specifically. They’ll come to no harm, she’s promised to protect them.”
“And you believed her?”
“She’s protected you enough times, hasn’t she?”
That was true, Linus had to admit. “But why?” he asked, at last keeping his voice in check. “What’s in it for her?”
Vladimir sighed with hefty scepticism, “Janoah has it in her head that Sara can help her.”
“How?”
After a passing reluctance, Vladimir explained. “The Eisenwolf; Sara knows him… from before. Usually Janoah relies on Rafe’s nurse to manage him, but she’s back at HQ. Hopefully Sara can do something.”
Scowling in bafflement, Linus shook his head a little, “W-what do you mean ‘manage him’?”
It hadn’t escaped Vladimir’s notice that Linus had yet to address him as ‘sir’, but the Grand Howler put it down to the young wolf’s frazzled nerves – he’d had a trying time.
“Rafe
’s a basket-case,” Vladimir chirped. “Eisenwolves always are. The poisons in their blood push them to the edge of sanity, that’s the reason they’re illegal... or one reason. Not that ALPHA cares for that detail, even less does Janoah. In any case Rafe needs constant care. He’s particularly bad after being stung to the eyeballs, which his injuries have necessitated. His body will recover… but his mind is another matter.”
Linus nodded. “They told me one of ALPHA’s wolves was attacked in the forest. Was that Rafe?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even know he was aboard.”
“He was in disguise. We saw him at dinner. I’m not sure how he was able to suppress his corona so effectively, but there is a way, albeit an illegal one. Still, what’s legality to ALPHA?”
Linus took a sharp breath and faced the cabin window, the trees rushing past like a horizontal green waterfall. “So, you told Janoah all about Sara and Olivia then?”
“Boy, we’ve been confiding whenever possible; words passed in carriage hallways and coded messages slipped in pockets,” Vladimir sighed, no stranger to espionage. “We’ve built up our communication techniques over the years. Even a shoulder-barge from Janoah disguised as clumsy accident carries meaning to me these days.”
“I-I-I had no idea, sir.”
“Coming from a fool like you that’s not surprising and hardly a compliment,” Vladimir snorted. “Still, thanks to Amael’s stunt we’re on our own again for the time being. It’s just me and you until we get to Hummelton, and even then we may not see Janoah again before the curtain falls.”
Linus looked to Vladimir, “What can we do?”
“Watch, listen, wait,” he grunted, “and pray beasts elsewhere are faring better than us.”
*
It was some hours before Nurka and his hyenas dared emerge from the subterranean pool and hurry through the caves with the wounded upon their shoulders. The ants had dispersed, taking with them any sign of the Warden and his hogs, the area around the cave’s mouth being picked clean, save for discarded weapons and caps.
“Search the area,” Nurka demanded of his troops.
Tomek hurried into the orange evening light. To his silent dismay Helmut’s body had vanished. Perhaps the ants had carried him off with the rest of the spoils. Trying not to think about Helmut being carved up and fed to squirming ant grubs, Tomek stood where he had fallen and removed his stripy Gelb prisoner’s cap in respect.
A recognisably hefty paw clapped on the young wolf’s muscled shoulder. It was Madou. The hyena grunted stoically.
Tomek said nothing, but nodded.
With the cave secured, Rufus, Zozizou and the other wounded were laid out by some rocks and seen to despite Red-mist’s insistence that they get clear of the ant nest before a scout discovered them.
“They’ll keep… checking the area,” he seethed. “Until they’re sure it’s safe.”
“Shut up and sit still,” Noss chided, removing Rufus’s bloodied mantle and assessing his condition. The jaws of the ants had cut him to ribbons, but Noss sensed a deeper malaise – the rot. The blast Red-mist had administered to the ants to remove them from his wolfen self had left him in serious trouble.
“You need a sting,” Noss advised.
“Nurka… only has… chunta.”
“And what’s wrong with chunta? Never did me any harm! Hahahahaaa!”
Rufus could but scoff humorously.
Noss chuckled too. “By the way, Red-mist,” he said, “your left shoulder is dislocated.”
“I know.”
“I’ll see to it-”
“Don’t!” Rufus barked.
“Relax. I might be mad, but I haven’t forgotten how to reset a put-out shoulder. I’ll be as gentle as a summer breeze.”
Somehow Noss’s wild purple eyes didn’t fill Rufus with confidence, but his shoulder had to be put back and the sooner the better. A quick nod set matters in motion and Noss to work. Casimir and some nearby hyenas watched curiously as the prince took Rufus’s left arm and manipulated it out to one side and back again with extreme slowness and absolute care. There was nothing fast or brutal about it, no crack of bone or sinew, only a slight growl and flinch from the patient as his shoulder slotted back into its rightful place.
His work apparently done, Noss lay Rufus’s ruddy arm across his grey chest. “See? It’s no trouble putting right a delicate wolfen body like yours.”
Rufus huffed back, “This delicate wolfen body could put you through a wall.”
“Hahahahaaaa! I don’t doubt it.”
The banter between their prince and Red-mist both alarmed and fascinated the on-looking hyenas. That Noss could be so informal with a wolf, even going so far as to clean and dress his wounds, caused much confusion and whispering. Some turned to their chief for guidance and he gave it, dismissing their concerns.
“Prince Noss honours our guest,” Nurka explained, “as we all should; he has saved our lives.”
Rufus clocked everything, every look, every gesture, every word, assessing Noss’s standing amongst the hyenas compared to Nurka – thus far not encouraging, Nurka seemed superior.
There was more bad news.
“I’m sorry,” Casimir said, drawing Rufus’s ears and eyes. “He’s slipped away from us.”
It was to Chakaa Madou whom Casimir spoke.
They were both crouched over Zozizou, who looked in no way changed, except that he lie utterly and unnaturally still. His wild mane stuck out from his bandaged head at crazy angles in death as in life. All through the caves Madou had bore him on his shoulders, all though Gelb in fact, propping up his weaker cousin with extra imperium rations, embers and food, and all for nought.
He was dead.
Reading events from afar, Nurka approached and comforted Madou with a simple paw on the shoulder.
“He’d become a miserable gazer,” Madou sniffed, wiping his broad nose with a spotty forearm, “but he was still my cousin. We grew up together, you know, on the Reservation. He was my best friend. We did everything together.”
“I remember, Madou.”
“I should’ve protected him; I’m a Chakaa!”
“It’s not your fault-”
“By the Wind!” Madou seethed, running a despairing paw through his short mane. “I thought he was going to make it. I thought it was just a bump to the head.” He kicked at the pebbles, “Graaagh!”
Nurka grabbed Madou and took him to one side. Before the chief could administer a pep-talk, as the watching Rufus suspected he would, some hyenas hurried back from patrol with news. Whatever information they carried escaped Rufus’s sharp wolfen ears, but not Tomek’s. The young wolf sped off ahead of everyone, Madou and the other hyenas following behind.
“What’s going on?” Rufus asked Noss.
“Nothing good, Red-mist,” the prince replied grimly.
Directed by what he’d overheard, Tomek rounded some rocky outcrops and came across a scene of devastation. Twenty or so hyena bodies were piled up, their fur and clothes matted with blood. Even from a distance Tomek’s nostrils flared at the acrid, heady fumes of imperium fuel. The bodies had been doused in it and the fuel can itself was lying nearby – as was a familiarly enormous hog.
“Helmut!” Tomek woofed, skidding to a halt in the dust beside his friend and cradling his bloody, fuel-drenched head. “Helmut! Helmut, is me, Tomek.”
The big hog’s beady eyes eased open. “Tomek… lad,” he wheezed, blood frothing on his lips and tusks.
It looked bad.
“Yes, is me,” Tomek said, smiling. “I’m here.”
“I thought… you were all goners,” Helmut gulped, looking about with just his eyes. “I heard ‘em. They… they were gonna burn me. My fellow hogs. But yon giant ants came… killed ‘em all.” He frowned, “Didn’t t-t-touch me, though.”
“Is the fuel; ants not like it,” Tomek beamed, checking Helmut over and wincing. “We get you fixed up now.”
“Huh! D-d-don’t b-be d
aft, lad.”
“Is not daft-”
“Lad, I c-c-can’t even breathe,” Helmut rasped, grabbing Tomek’s arm. “Just… s-sss-sit with me. Stay… ‘til I go. Quiet like.”
“Helmut-”
“Nah… nah… chin up, mate. Smile.”
At length Tomek nodded, though his smiling lips quavered. The stocky Madou crunched over and loomed behind.
“You two… look out f-fff-fer each other,” Helmut told them, looking mostly to Tomek. “Don’t… do anything s-sss-silly, Tomek. You get th-through this, fer me.”
A nod.
Helmut’s eyes shut a little, then opened, “Rufe?”
Tomek croaked, “He’s fine, Helmut.”
“Good… that wolf’s… right good ‘un. S-sss-stick with….”
Breathing shallow, Helmut turned his eyes to clouds, their undersides lit by the setting sun in shades of red and yellow, their shadows blue and purple.
“Look, lad…. ‘Tis like… imperium.”
It was some minutes before Prince Noss slowly rounded the rocks and took in the grim scene of two dozen dead hyenas. Tomek and Madou stood over Helmut, the wolf with his cap in paw.
Nurka went to his Prince. “They were going to burn them heaped up like logs!” he rasped of the fallen hyenas. Nursing his head a moment, he composed himself, “The hog was able to make his peace, my Prince.”
“That hog saved my life,” Noss breathed. “I’d be down the bottom of Gelb’s chasms but for him.”
“I know.”
“Set out our brothers properly and return them to the Sky,” the prince decreed. “But Helmut goes into the ground, that is the hoggish custom. We will honour it.”
Nurka nodded, “Of course, my Prince.”
Some hyenas came up behind Noss. Bowing low in the dust to him, they addressed Nurka foremost, “Chief, it’s the Warden.”
“Warden?”
“Themba has found him, down in the stream.”
They pointed away from the cave – in a trice, the furious Madou heard, saw and was away, tearing across the pebbly erde and scrabbling up and over the grey hills opposite the cave mouth!
“Madou!” Nurka barked.
Growling, the chief gave chase. Cresting with difficulty the loose hills he stopped and looked down upon a shallow river in a small valley. Themba and several hyenas were standing around an upturned limo in the midst of the shimmering water; a cloaked wolf lay at spear-point, half in, half out of the misshapen vehicle.
