by Adam Browne
Cora stood still for an age, assessing Vladimir’s face, considering his words. “This is… incredible,” she said.
Vladimir mopped his brow. “So it must seem,” he replied, with a slight chuckle. “I fear I’ve grown accustomed to Amael’s despicable plot, having had knowledge of it for so long. But my conscience is clear, Den Mother. Do as you will, I can do no more than I have.”
There was a knock at the office door and Cora bade two Hummel Howlers to enter. They were escorting a white rabbit in a jacket. The rabbit’s paws were wired – if he could ride a mono he should also be able to wield imperium.
Vladimir looked at the little beast and immediately frowned, “I’ve seen your face before.”
The rabbit said nothing as he glanced nervously about.
“What’s his name?” Vladimir asked in general.
“Casimir Claybourne, sir,” a Hummel replied.
“Yes, that’s it. Your nephew Borce works for us, under Constable Werner.”
Casimir dipped his chin, “Dunno what you’re on about-”
Vladimir slapped him quite casually, “Liar!” and continued, his remarkable memory on form. “You used to run The Warren down in Riddle District a while back. You’re the rabbit who adopted...” he broke off and chuckled. “Oh I see! Humph! Of course you would join them after that. Ah, but too monstrous was it? Haven’t the stomach for the terrorist agenda? No I don’t blame you. So now you come crawling back to wolfkind, how pathetic-”
“I need to speak to Vladimir!” Casimir barked. “Please! I have a message for Vladimir Oromov-”
“You’re speaking to him!” Oromov growled.
After a pause for breath, his eyes darting over Vladimir, Casimir blurted, “Noss sent me!”
“Noss?”
“Aye. He says that he’s doing all he can from within THORN, him and Rufus. They told me to warn you about the… the balloon. It’s gonna fly over Hummelton and Nurka’s gonna spray everyone with black-imperium. It’ll be genocide. I’ve said it a hundred times to your Howlers, but they aren’t listening!” He looked back at his captors. “I rode all night to get here, dodged checkpoints, got shot at, everything. I’ve done all I can do, now it’s down to you lot, so Briar help you if you don’t believe me!”
Silence.
“Well, don’t you believe me?” Casimir gruffed.
“Forgive us, citizen, if we don’t look surprised,” Vladimir said. “It’s because we suspected this was THORN’s plan. You have confirmed it.”
Cora stepped forward, “You’re sure this is how THORN’s tae attack mah fair city, citizen?”
“Aye, Prince Noss is certain as can be, marm,” Casimir replied, with a tiny bow, unsure just how to act in front of so noble-a-looking wolfess. “Nurka confided in him, all the plans, everything.”
“But Prince Noss is dead, is he not?”
Vladimir raised a paw, “That’s a long story, Den Mother, and we have little time. I suggest we procure an imperium cannon or two and set them up to the East of town, and some distance from it. It can be excused as a gun salute.”
“Aye,” Cora agreed weightily. “The Consort Angus will help ye arrange that, Howler. Ah’ll stay here and keep the Summit in order, as you say.” She turned to one of the Howlers escorting Casimir, “Someone find Eldress Brynn, Ah need tae speak tae her, and summon Adal Weiss as well.”
“Brynn’s missing, Den Mother,” the Howler in Cora’s sights blurted back.
“Missing?”
“Since last night, Den Mother. Under the Consort Angus’ instruction she escorted Sara from the Den and nobody’s seen them since.”
“Well find her! And find Sara! And gather mah daughters, they must be taken somewhere safe, do y’hear? Do it discreetly, mind, Ah want nae panic.”
“Yes, Den Mother.”
“And fetch Angus here, Ulf help him!”
“Yes, marm.”
One of the two Hummel Howlers left to attend her mistress’s wishes; Vladimir hoped that particular wolfess was no traitor, just about anyone could be.
Even Janoah, Ulf help me.
Cora turned to the Grand Howler, “If we survive Amael’s bid tae overturn the Republic, Vladimir Oromov, Ah’ll be sure tae recommend you tae whatever new Bloodfang Den Father is elected in his place.”
Vladimir bowed, “I merely serve this great Republic, Den Mother.”
“Aye, as do we all.”
*
The Bloodfang Elder train whistled and bellowed, spurting clouds of acrid ash tumbling across the sunny platform. She had been turned around and was ready to go.
As was Amael.
“After you,” he told Janoah, leading her to the nearest carriage door, his queen.
“Oh!” Janoah chirped airily, as if the matter had quite slipped her mind, “Amael, we need to get the Alpha’s carriage.”
“I’ll take care of it, Jan.”
“Be sure you do, it’s important.”
“I know.”
Smiling, Janoah reluctantly boarded the train – she could urge Amael no more without seeming irregular.
Moving through the sumptuous lounge carriage at the head of Amael’s band of conspiratorial comrades, Janoah sat in a plush red chair facing a window and peered anxiously across the station platforms and parked trains. She could see the end of the Eisbrand train poking out beyond the others thanks to the extra ALPHA carriages tacked on.
He’s right there, inside Josef’s carriage. Is he ready? Can he even stand up?
It’s time to choose a side, Rafe. You promised to stand with me, whatever happens.
Suddenly Janoah felt a disturbance in her corona, so familiar, but then it vanished. She looked up and saw the back of a rather tall Bloodfang Howler as he glided past, with pure white arms and tail.
Before Janoah could think to call him over, the Elders drew her attention with some commotion.
“Hummels!” one shouted.
“Looks like trouble,” came another, pressing his nose to the windows on the opposite side to Janoah.
“We should call this whole thing off.”
“Don’t be a fool! It’s begun; we’ll do better to fight!”
Janoah got up, “Calm yourselves, my Elders,” and crossed the carriage to observe the goings-on herself.
Amael and two Den Guards were facing down some officious-looking Hummel Howlers that had obviously rushed to the station; their monos were still ticking over on the platform behind. Muffled, if clearly heated words followed as Amael explained his unexpected departure; some unspecified, but vital emergency demanded his presence in Bloodfang territory. He was leaving half his Elders here to vote whilst he returned to Lupa to see to the matter. In any case, if I want to go for a picnic in the woods, I’m a Den Father now and it’s none of Cora Hummel’s business!
Or words to that effect, Janoah couldn’t quite make it out.
Regardless, the flummoxed Hummels were powerless and dared not press a Den Father further.
Turning his back on the Hummels, Amael flicked his paw ahead, signalling to someone. He then entered the lounge carriage and walked amongst his fellow conspirators.
“We’re leaving,” he grunted soberly.
Janoah pushed off the window, “What about the carriage?”
“Carriage?”
“The Alpha’s. We need to couple it to us.”
“Forget it, Jan.”
“But Amael it’s worth millions-”
“I said forget it! Cora’s on her way over and if she knows I’ve gone already that means Flaid could be next. We can’t have a scene with him, it’ll be war.”
Amael passed Janoah, heading deeper into the train, his followers in tow.
Left alone, Janoah went to the opposite window and looked upon Josef’s carriage, her mind racing, heart pumping. She contemplated dashing across and fetching Rafe, or simply slipping off the train and letting Amael go.
Suddenly the floor jolted beneath Janoah’s feet sending her stumbling her into
a chair.
We’re moving. Time’s up.
Amael returned, smiling reassuringly; Janoah was rooted by his gaze, her paws kneading the arms of her chair.
“Nervous?” Amael asked, sitting opposite.
Janoah could but shrug and smile back. She felt sick to her stomach as Rafe’s carriage slowly passed, as if she were abandoning her own cub on a doorstep.
She placed a paw on the window.
Ignorant of the truth, Amael joked, “There goes a few million lupas.” Chuckling, he leant forward and grasped Janoah’s paws in his. “Don’t worry, my love, you’ll not want for anything once I’m your Emperor.”
He leant across and kissed her; it felt empty, oh so empty.
*
“It’s going!”
“NO IT’LL COME BACK. IT HAS TO COME BACK.”
“It’s going, Rafe, I’m telling you.”
Josef joined Olivia and Rafe at the carriage door. He removed his spectacles and watched the Bloodfang Elder Train chug away. “It is going,” he gasped. “Janoah, you treacherous maggot. She’s deserting us!”
“NO SHE AIN’T!”
“She’s left us to choke, Rafe! I knew she was with Amael. I should never have trusted her!”
“SHUT UP!” Rafe bellowed at Josef, his voice echoing and distorting like a wolf in a giant steel pipe. His backpack exhaust ejected a tiny puff of ash. Breathing heavily the Eisenwolf thought a moment, ears swivelling. “SOMETHING MUST BE WRONG. SHE MUST BE IN TROUBLE. WE HAVE TO GO AFTER HER, JOSEF.”
The cat spread his grey paws, “How? Can you drive a train? No!”
“The van?” Olivia suggested, paws spread. “Well can’t we chase them in that?”
“AYE!” Rafe said. “AYE, THE VAN. COME ON!”
By the time Sara thought to join the commotion at the door everyone was dashing back inside the gloomy carriage, though it did not remain gloomy for long. Josef pulled a lever, chains and gears whirred, and the right wall of the carriage fell open like a drawbridge, gaping onto the platform and allowing light to flood in.
“What on Erde?” Sara gasped, squinting. “Bruno, what’s going on?”
“I GOTTA GO, SARA; THE ELDER TRAIN’S LEAVING WITHOUT ME.”
Eldress Brynn was still tied to the van, so Bruno burnt through her supposedly Howler-proof bonds with a continuous snap of plasma from a single finger, like a blow-torch.
“What’re you doing?” Brynn yelped.
Picking the astonished Eldress up, Bruno set her aside.
“TAKE HER,” he told Sara, “AND GO BACK TO YOUR MUM.”
“Bruno-”
“PLEASE! STAY SAFE, YEAH?”
“Get away from her, you abomination!” Brynn growled, throwing aside what was left of the wire. “Sara, run! Ah’ll hold him off.”
“Och, shut up!”
“He could kill you with a touch!”
“Aye, and you any time, but he didn’t!”
Bruno looked to Brynn, then cupped an enormous iron-clad paw to Sara’s little cheek. “EVERYTHING’LL BE ALL RIGHT.”
Despite her trepidation, Sara wrapped her arms around Bruno’s unyielding metallic body. “Be careful, Eisenwolf.”
“I WILL.”
Tossing aside the last securing chains, Josef started the ALPHA van with a shudder and a honk. “Rafe, get in!” he hissed out the window.
With a casual salute at Sara and Brynn, Rafe clomped round to the back of the van and leapt inside with surprising grace. The moment the van doors slammed, Josef turned the steering wheel hard over and shunted straight through the boxes and barrels that had served mostly as a disguise.
As the van passed Sara, she saw Olivia rise up in the passenger seat and wave!
“Olivia!” Sara called, giving chase. “Oliviaaa!”
The van screeched down the carriage’s ramp and pulled away amidst a pall of ash, leaving Sara coughing in its wake. It sped across the station and down a cobblestone ramp onto the road, pursuing the fleeing Elder Train via the nearest street through Hummelton.
“Don’t forget me, Bruno Claybourne,” Sara said, watching the van disappear over a bridge. “Nae yourself.”
Chapter 54
Chakaa Nurka stroked the white moth hanging on his shoulder as he scrutinised Montague and Penny Buttle working the Nimbus’ controls. Monty gently turned the wheel, increasing thrust to the left or right engine as appropriate to maintain course; Penny, meanwhile, played the controls like a strange musical instrument, pulling wire cords that in their turn inflated felitium bags or dropped ballast.
Nurka had studied the blueprints and felt he had a grasp of the workings, enough to spot signs of sabotage. “Why are you dropping so much ballast?” he rasped, grabbing Penny’s paw.
She turned to him and replied primly, “Because, Mr. Nurka, we’re losing lift. The Howlers probably put some holes in us as we took off.”
“Is it serious?” Nurka interrogated further.
Monty took that one. “No,” he said proudly, turning the shining durametal wheel; the rolling Everdor landscape beyond the tremulous windows shifted as the ship turned. “In previous ships maybe, they had just a dozen or so big lifting bags, but Nimbus here has over a hundred. Takes a lot longer to pop a hundred balloons than twelve, eh? Haha!” The hostage winked at his captor, “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll drop your bally leaflets, though not if you stop me wife from keeping us airborne! Paws off the merchandise, if you please.”
Nurka looked sideways at the semi-jolly and always polite Monty. It was almost as if the cat was on side! His wife’s face, however, was remained thunderous.
“Reg?” Nurka said, turning to the rat.
“Sounds right to me,” he replied.
Satisfied he was not being tricked, Nurka released his iron grasp and Penny continued her work.
“Held hostage by a hyena twice in twelve months,” she complained, tugging a cord and watching a dial spin. The airship noticeably rose, Nurka could feel it. “If this is how you hyenas conduct yourselves, Mister Nurka,” Penny went on, “you’ll receive no sympathy from me.”
“I do not expect sympathy from a spoilt catess raised in luxury, nor do I seek it.”
Monty huffed, “This ‘spoilt catess’ could help you; she has influence with her cousin the Queen of Felicia, after all.”
“Does she?” Nurka said, incredulous. “Yet your Queen does not let you fly your ‘infernal contraptions’ over her city.”
“Well no.”
“So not very much influence!” Nurka surmised.
Penny asked, “You hyenas have leaders too, don’t you?”
“Yes. The Matriarchs, and our Queen.”
“And sometimes they are swayed by misguided council from jealous and ambitious sorts, are they not?”
Nurka sighed, “Perhaps.”
“Well, the same has occurred to my cousin regarding Monty’s balloons. But as Queen, and what’s more Empress of many foreign lands and races who are not cats, she’s well-used to local customs and complex territorial issues. She’s always sympathetic to the plight of the natives.”
“Natives, Madam?” Nurka growled in offence.
“Yes, local conquered folk.”
“Oh I see! Spear-chucking barbarians like me, is that it?”
Penny wouldn’t be drawn on semantics. “Sir, if the hyenas had sent a delegation to Felicia with such evidence as you have shown me, my cousin would have pressured Lupa to treat your people fairly. If such… such appalling things as is on those papers are truly occurring then I do sympathise, and wholly, but kidnapping and terrorism and all that THORN has done is no way to go about winning hearts and minds-”
“By the Wind, just fly your ship, madam!”
“We could end this now and sensibly. We’ll turn right around and fly straight to Queens Town. You’ll be under Felician law there and quite safe. We can then sail to Felicia and present a case-”
“Madam cat, do I look like a fool?” Nurka rasped, his purple eyes alight. “Yo
ur cousin and her council would not interfere in Wolfen affairs even if I took them on a tour of the disgusting conditions in the Reservations myself! The trade links between Lupa and Felicia are too valuable to disturb over some ‘natives’. Now I will not say it again; be silent and fly, or you will shortly be put out a window and I will pull those cords myself!”
“If you believe that then why are we dropping your pamphlets at all? What good will they do?”
“Just do as he says, Sweetpea,” Monty advised calmly.
“But Monty-”
“Penelope Buttle, be quiet! Please!”
Penny tugged on a cable extra hard, venting both gas and her fury. “Humph!”
The mighty, labyrinthine-cloaked Themba trudged into the gondola with his kristahl hammer. “Chief.”
“Themba, have you prepared the… the leaflets?” Nurka asked, sliding a paw under his hyena-skull-shaped helmet to nurse his head.
A nod, as Themba equated leaflets as code for black-imperium. “You all right, chief?” he whispered, glancing at the cats, then at his fellow hyenas standing guard. “I heard shouting.”
“Fine. Fine. Just… tired.”
After a moment’s thought, Themba leant close. “You should rest. Let me take over.”
Nurka grunted negatively and clapped a paw on Themba’s huge spotty arm. “The Howler,” he said, focusing. “Did they find him?”
“That’s what I came for; Madou’s got him.”
“Dead?”
Themba shook his head and beckoned through the door.
The stocky Madou escorted a similarly-built, blonde-furred Howler down the main walkway. The wolf’s arms were bound with wire, and so infirm was he from his many grievous injuries that Madou had to help him stumble painfully into the Gondola, whereupon he balanced on one leg, his other foot barely touching the floor. Despite his lack of stature and crippling wounds, the Howler stood chin up and chest out, as nobly and proudly as he could.
