The Clouds Above the Wing

by Derrek White

  At some point Lampwick had drifted off to sleep. He had managed to eat almost his entire stash before doing so, even though he knew it wasn't a good idea. He awoke suddenly to a sound that was very loud and reminded him of thunder.

  He had no way of telling how long he had slept or what time it was currently. The hallway outside of Mr. Winterbottom's trophy room was lit, which allowed some light to pass through the cracked closet door. The thunder sounds came again from overhead, then he heard a muffled scream and a thud against the ceiling of his hiding place.

  Maybe he hadn't slept for too long—perhaps only a few minutes and that was Mrs. Winterbottom realizing he was gone and had left the table a mess. If she was mad enough to scream like that, then she would probably give him the beating of his life when she found him. He decided to keep as quiet as possible.

  Suddenly the light in the closet flickered as if someone ran through it. He could hear movement inside of the trophy room; heavy breathing and someone stumbling about. He looked out the crack of the door, trying hard to see who it was and what was going on, but he couldn't see much.

  “Where the devil is it?” It was Mr. Winterbottom, and he was muttering to himself as he searched for something. Things were being tossed around the room as he searched frantically. Suddenly, a second voice pierced the air, making the hair on the back of Lampwick's neck rise.

  “Where is it?”

  “I'm warning you,” Mr. Winterbottom stammered, “Come any closer and I'll let you have it.”

  The other person's voice was very strange. It was very deep and seemed to be modulated so that two voices that were slightly off pitch from each other were speaking at once.

  “Of course you would have a gun. You rich idiots think you're so safe with them. I won't ask again. You saw what happened to your wife....”

  There was a gunshot and Lampwick heard multiple impacts on the wall.

  “You'll regret that.”

  Mr. Winterbottom shrieked and fired another shot, then there was a swishing sound followed by a loud thud. Lampwick's heart caught in his throat; he knew something horrible was happening. His hands were trembling, so he clasped them together to steady himself. He couldn't betray his spot in the closet.

  “Did he tell you where it was?” asked another modulated voice from the hallway.

  “No. It has to be around here somewhere.”

  The speaker walked past the door and Lampwick caught a glimpse. He was covered from head to foot in dark garments, his face hidden behind a veil. He was very tall and slender and moved quickly in and out of view as he searched for the object of his desire.

  “Don't you think you should have gotten the specifics before disposing of him?”

  The second figure was now in the room and had joined in the search. Lampwick noticed that he was dressed in identical clothing to the first, but was a little shorter.

  “We'll take some of this stuff; it'll be quite useful,” said the first being. “But it isn't in this room. Let's check the others.”

  As quickly as they had arrived, they were gone. Lampwick's heart was trying its level best to beat right out of his chest, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to call out to Mr. Winterbottom, but he knew he wouldn't answer. Who were those people and what did they want? He had been told stories of strange humans called Shadowfiends by the older servant boys when they wanted to scare the younger children. The Shadowfiends, however, lived in the Outer Edge and rarely made it beyond the Vanishing Mountains. At least that's what the elder servants would tell them to calm their fears before bed.

  “The Shadowfiends killed off most of the humans a long time ago,” he remembered Martin telling them one night during the rainy season. “Overnight thousands of Lunarians disappeared. The Shadowfiends eliminated them and then took over Lunaris. They were driven to the Outer Edge by an alliance of Doggons, Felites, and Badgerines not long after. Legend says they still sneak into Lanternum to murder and pillage, and they always do it at night when it rains.”

  Lampwick shivered at the memory. He hated when the older boys would try to scare them. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he was very easily frightened. Now, though, Lampwick began to doubt they were only stories. What he saw seemed exactly like he had imagined Shadowfiends to be.

  Minutes passed that felt like hours. Occasionally more booming noises came from outside; he was sure it wasn't thunder, but something far more sinister. Soon the sounds died away and there was only an eerie silence. He felt like the world may have ended and he was the only one left, stuck inside a small, stupid closet.

  He wasn't sure how long it had been since the attack, but he guessed at least two days. His food supply had long run out, he had drifted in and out of sleep several times, and the hunger pangs he was feeling in his stomach were unbearable. He knew that he was slowly starving to death. Who was going to come down looking for him? Nobody had been down to check on Mr. Winterbottom, so the odds of anyone finding him were low. Nobody but Martin and Tobias knew he was in the closet. The situation seemed hopeless.

  Then his luck changed.

  To pass the time, Lampwick would look out the crack in the door and count the pictures that he could see on the wall. While he was counting the 37 pictures for the 142nd time, he noticed movement in the room. It surprised him so much that he almost shrieked, but he was able to stop himself in the nick of time. What if the Shadowfiends had returned?

  What should he do? Maybe if he called for help they would let him out. He could bargain with them, show them around the manor or something. Then he noticed that it wasn't a human he saw moving in the room, it was a Felite in a dark suit with a flowing cape.

  Short, with pointy ears at the top of its head, silhouetted against the hallway light, it was moving very cautiously, taking care not to make noise with any step. Lampwick decided that the Felite must be friendly, and even if it wasn't, it was far better than a Shadowfiend or death by starvation.

  “Help me!” Lampwick called out.

  The Felite jumped straight up into the air and screeched loudly. A great commotion erupted in the other room; apparently the Felite wasn't alone.

  “Where'd that noise come from captain?”

  “Over here! I think there's a door behind this bookcase. Bruiser!”

  Lampwick could hear the case being moved aside and the door was wrenched open. Light flooded the closet and his hands went instinctively to his face, shielding his eyes. Two sets of paws grabbed him by the arms and tugged him out of the closet. A orange tabby Felite with an eye patch over his left eye stood in front of him, his arms crossed.

  “Are you armed?”

  “No...of course not!”

  The Felite nodded to an associate who was standing to the left of the closet door. “Check him, Snookums.”

  Snookums frisked Lampwick up and down, then stepped back. “He's clear, sir.”

  “Mind telling me what you were doing in that closet?”

  “Two other servants trapped me in there. I couldn't get out.”

  “Well, you're damn lucky then.” He looked casually around the room. “What happened here?”

  “I...I don't know. I got trapped in there and then I heard loud booms, almost like thunder but not coming from outside. There were screams from above me, then Mr. Winterbottom came into the room and he was being chased by something. He shot at it twice...”

  “What was chasing him? Who did this?”

  “I'm not sure...it almost looked human, but I don't think it was at all.” He paused for a second, then said, “I think it was a Shadowfiend.”

  The Felite frowned. “A Shadowfiend? The odds of that are slim to none, kid. The Doggon Sentinels are guarding the only route into Lanternum from The Outer Edge. There's no way enough of them could have gotten through to cause this much damage.”

  “I said I wasn't sure. I'm just telling you what I saw.”

/>   “You said it looked human. Sounds to me like that's what it was.”

  Lampwick shook his head. “He talked funny. I've never heard a human speak like that. I think he got shot too, but it didn't even slow him down.”

  “There's no sign of anyone being shot in here. Either the person you saw is impervious to bullets or Mr. Winterbottom there was a bad shot.” He pointed to a blanket laying on the ground covering the form of a human body.

  It was shocking for Lampwick to see Mr. Winterbottom's body. He knew that Mr. Winterbottom was dead, but there was something very strange about having it confirmed. He looked away, not wanting to see him anymore.

  “He hunted all the time. Didn't you see all the trophies he has?” Lampwick replied, gesturing to the mounts on the walls. “He must've been a good shot.”

  “What's your name, kid?”

  “Lampwick.”

  “That's a funny name,” the Felite said, pulling out a small flask from beneath his cloak and taking a swig. “My name is Captain Digger. My team of Stealthcats and I have been sent up here to investigate.”

  “I'm glad you were; I would have starved to death in there!”

  “You could have probably lasted a year or more,” snickered the one of the Felites who had him by the arms. The rest of the Felites in the room began to laugh as well.

  Captain Digger looked unimpressed. “Enough of that, Bruiser. I know it's tempting, but practice some self control. This is a serious situation.”

  “Sorry, Captain.” Bruiser no doubt earned his name because of his immense size. He was easily twice as big as every other Felite in the room and probably the largest Felite that Lampwick had ever seen. He also had one heck of a grip.

  “So you're a servant here, yes?”

  Lampwick nodded. “For as long as I can remember.”

  Captain Digger put his paw to his mouth and began tracing it, narrowing his eye as he did. “I hate to be the one to have to break this to you then,” he said finally. “The servants quarters are completely destroyed.”

  “What? How is that possible?”

  “We suspect the Angtol are to blame. It appears that most of the destruction was done with a combination of boulders and clubs, both of which are favored weapons of Angtol. That would probably explain the sound of thunder you heard.”

  The Angtol were massive creatures with gigantic noses peeking out from the wild tangles of hair that draped over their faces. They often stood over ten feet tall and were at least half as wide. Their tempers were legendary throughout the land and they usually kept to themselves. Like the Shadowfiends, Angtol were often the villains in the scary bed time stories told by the older children.

  “It is raining out,” one of the Felites said from near the entrance of the room. “Isn't it possible that he heard real thunder?”

  “Have you heard any since we've been here?” Captain Digger asked him angrily. “No? Then pipe down. Well kid, we've gotta figure out what we're gonna do with you.”

  “Where's Coldwater? Maybe I can go to Kibbleshire with him.”

  “Who?”

  “Coldwater. He's the Winterbottom's chef. He's a Doggon with black fur. He's about this tall.” Lampwick stretched his arm above his head. “I'm sure he'll take me home with him.”

  “Oh...” Captain Digger said quietly, looking away from Lampwick. “Look...kid...you're the only one we've found here.”

  “That's okay, maybe he went off somewhere and hid after the attack? I wouldn't have stayed here at the manor if I wasn't locked in that closet.”

  “I don't think you really understand...you're the only one we found in Leetshire. Everyone else we found has been...well...” His gaze traveled to the body of Mr. Winterbottom as he let the words trail off.

  Lampwick's legs gave out at the thought that the closest person he had to a friend, Coldwater, was dead. Coldwater was the only person who had ever been nice to Lampwick and now he was gone. The two Felites strained to keep him upright as the grief overtook him, but Captain Digger motioned for them to let him go. He slumped to the floor and began to cry, suddenly realizing the depth of the situation in which he now found himself. Captain Digger walked over to him and put a paw on his shoulder.

  “Listen, kid...we didn't find any Doggons here. Maybe he made it out and is long gone by now.”

  “You think?” Lampwick sniffed, wiping his nose as he looked up at Captain Digger.

  “Sure. Now, do you have any family elsewhere that you know of?”

  Lampwick shook his head. “I don't have any parents. I've been a servant all of my life. Everyone kinda raised me I guess.”

  “Sounds like you got a new roommate, boss!” Bruiser said jovially.

  Captain Digger flashed him a dangerous look, then turned back to Lampwick. “You don't have an aunt or an uncle or anything?”

  “No.”

  Captain Digger sighed. “Well, it looks like you're coming with us then.”

  “Where are we going?” Lampwick asked, a hint of excitement rising in his voice because he had never left Leetshire before.

  “To the best city in all of the world: Nipton,” said the gray and black furred Felite who had held Lampwick's arms before.

  “Thanks for that, Slinger.”

  “Nipton? The Felite capital? Some of the servants who've served Felites have talked about it.”

  “There's no place like it in the world,” Slinger said excitedly. Lampwick noticed for the first time that his fur was fashioned into a mohawk at the top of his head, an unlikely hairstyle for a Felite. “It sits atop a mighty hill,” Slinger continued amorously, “crafted among the branches and trunks of beautiful hardwood trees. Mousekin and other game run wild through the surrounding forests. It's paradise.”

  “Where will I stay?”

  “With me, unfortunately,” lamented Captain Digger. “Felite law states that if we find any orphans of war that the highest ranking officer present must take responsibility for said orphan. That particular law never really made that much sense to me—now more than ever—but it's a law just the same.”

  “I'm not too much trouble, really!”

  “Don't worry about getting too comfortable kid. As soon as I can find a foster family for you, you'll be on your way. As great as Nipton is, I think you'll find it's not really suited for humans. The buildings are smaller and many of them are built high off the ground. You should fit fine for now, but boys tend to grow. We need to find you some more humans.”

  “Good luck with that!”

  “Bruiser...”

  “Sorry boss.”

 

  The Felites surrounded Lampwick as they made their way cautiously out of the mansion. When they reached the outdoors, Lampwick was stunned by what he saw. Many of the statues that lined the yard of the Winterbottom estate were completely destroyed. Smoke could be seen climbing above the trees in the direction of Leetshire. It was still raining, and many of the Felites made sure that nobody was ignorant to that fact.

  “C'mon kid, we gotta move a bit quicker,” Captain Digger exclaimed, putting his paw to Lampwick's back and pushing him along.

  “I hate the rain,” grumbled another Felite.

  “Where'd the transport go?” Slinger asked, quite puzzled as they arrived at the end of the driveway and looked in both directions down the road.

  “Something don't smell right about this situation,” concluded Bruiser. “Patches knew we were going to meet him here.”

  “Let's not get too excited,” Captain Digger interceded. “He's probably in town. Looks like we'll have to hoof it for awhile.”

  “Can we at least run?” Slinger asked, holding his cape over his head to keep the rain out of his face.

  Captain Digger gave Lampwick a scrutinizing look. “I dunno...what do you think kid? Can you keep up if we run?”

  Lampwick liked running about as much as the Felites liked g
etting wet. On the other hand, he also found that he was becoming tired of all the incessant whining about the rain. “Let's do it.”

  The group of Felites burst into a run without hesitation. Lampwick pumped his legs as fast as he could, trying to keep up.

  Now, it was well known throughout Lanternum that a human in good shape would have trouble keeping up with even an average Felite in a foot race. Lampwick was a far cry from being in good shape and, to add insult to injury, he was trying to keep up with Felites who were in fantastic shape and hellbent on trying to avoid getting soaked.

  “C'mon kid! Pick up the pace!” Captain Digger shouted back at him.

  “I'm trying,” puffed Lampwick, but he was already tiring. Soon he wasn't able to run anymore and began walking, a large stitch growing in his side and a pool of spit collecting in his mouth.

  “Are you kidding me? We've only gone 45 yards!” Captain Digger exclaimed as he came back for him.

  “I...can't...run anymore.”

  Captain Digger motioned for the rest of the group to keep going, then pulled the end of his cape up over his head. “Walk fast then. My fur is going to be such a mess.”

  The rest of the group disappeared over a hill as Lampwick and Captain Digger walked slowly towards town. The rain seemed to fall harder as they walked. Then, a loud snapping sound came from the trees on the side of the road in front of them. Captain Digger stopped dead in his tracks and motioned for Lampwick to do the same.

  “Stay behind me,” he hissed, drawing a saber from a scabbard which hung from his belt.

  “W-what was that?”

  “Shh!”

  More branches snapped, then, as suddenly as the noises began, they stopped. Captain Digger began to creep forward, his eye trained steadily on the patch of trees. Suddenly a large, screaming gray squirrel jumped from the trees.

  “You'll never take me alive, Felite!”

  Captain Digger jumped out of the way of its courageous charge, spitting and yowling. “You stupid Scurrier!”

  The squirrel circled around and stood on its hind legs, launching taunts and obscenities at Captain Digger.

  “What's his problem?” Lampwick asked.

  “He's nuts!”

  “I'm not nuts, you low down bag of fur!”

  Captain Digger pointed the saber at the squirrel. “That's about enough out of you!”

  “Ha! Empty words from a coward! Have at you!”

  The squirrel charged Captain Digger again. This time Captain Digger didn't jump out of the way, but instead hopped to the side and swiped at the squirrel with his paw, hitting him hard and knocking him off balance.

  “Had enough?” he asked, putting his saber away.

  The squirrel got back to its feet, sputtering a little. “Me? It looks like you've had enough! Putting away your blade? Face me and fight like a man!”

  “I don't need my saber to defeat a crazed Scurrier like you! Listen, just go run off into the forest. Go back to Van's Hollow or wherever it is you hail from. I've no qualms with you.”

  “You should have thought of that before drawing your sword upon me!”

  “Look around! Did you not see what happened to this place? Of course I drew my sword! I didn't know if you were a Scurrier or a Shadowfiend; lurking around in the bushes like that, what the hell's the matter with you anyways?”

  The squirrel flashed him a mischievous grin. “Yeah, I saw what happened to this place. The pickins' are ripe.”

  Captain Digger shook his head. “Go on, get out of here...before I change my mind.”

  The squirrel let fly one more insult at Captain Digger, then retreated back into the bushes. Captain Digger watched him go, then motioned for Lampwick to follow.

  “Now I'm really soaked,” he remarked miserably. “How about we try running again?”

  Lampwick groaned loudly, but began running to keep up with Captain Digger, who didn't wait for his reply. As they crested the hill and began to descend, Lampwick could see a large carriage pulled by five ponies approaching.

  “Looks like your lucky day kid,” Captain Digger said, as he slowed his pace and began walking. “That'll be our ride.”

  The carriage pulled up next to them and the door swung open. “C'mon in fellas!” Bruiser bellowed from inside.

  They both climbed in, then the carriage pulled away quickly, carrying Lampwick away from the home he'd known all of his life. He watched out the small window as it disappeared behind them, feeling a little sad to be leaving the only home he had ever known. One thing was certain: He actually made it out, and much sooner than he'd ever dreamed.