Snowcastle. Tundratown. She was born not far from here in a Tundratown Hospital, on a dark summer night. Snow fell that day like it did now, but far outside the chamber Canidae found herself in when she awoke.
As faded splotches of brown paint and grey concrete came into view, she began to piece together what she could remember happening last; an alleyway, Andrea, a cold iron muzzle jammed into her spine. The darkness of a windowless van and the rough bleating of angry sheep as they covered her face and bound her wrists.
The basement was a freezer. Any central heating didn't push its air down this deep. Canidae felt frozen by the pall of fear that hung over her. The lost time sat in her mind like a brick that she tried to calculate around – in vain. Could she call for help here? Where was she, and why hadn't she seen more? Who had put her here? She guessed she had fainted from shock.
She squirmed. Her clothing was still on, though it was uncomfortably bunched where cuffs pressed into her wrists and ankles. The chair on which she sat creaked as she leaned forward and let out a barking sob. Her hair fell over her eyes, cutting dark slivers through the dim orange light emanating from a recessed bulb in the ceiling.
"You…" She told herself, her teeth chattering in the mist of her exhaling breath. "You are a city councilwoman. This is just a… difficult occasion." Her voice quivered as she spoke to herself. She pushed the words through her teeth and shivered. "Rise to it." Any approximation of grit wasn't a trait of Canidae's. She was verbally tenacious on the council floor, but when it came to strenuous physical exertion, she was a pushover.
Fortunately, the chair was a pushover too.
With a subtle rocking of her weight, Canidae sent the chair to the floor and came crashing down onto her shoulder with it. A wail caught in her throat as she reminded herself that her captors might still be near. She swallowed it and rolled from her aching side onto her back. It was painful – her weight pressed down on her paws and the metal cuffs pinched them.
"Sit up, girl."
She tried and failed. Instead, she rolled onto her side, panting and gasping and finally getting a glimpse of the door. It was tall, made for mammals larger than her, and had a window plate blacked out by a coat of dark paint. There was no way anyone had left it unlocked, but wouldn't it be foolish of her not to try?
It felt like minutes before she was able to struggle to her knees. She shimmied toward the wall and collapsed against it when she was near enough. For a moment, she lay there and attempted to catch her breath.
Stay calm. Find a phone. Call Andrea.
When she opened her eyes, the handle on the door in front of her was turning.
It opened a quick jolt of several inches, then flung the entire way to the wall. A ram marched in, immediately spotting Canidae crouched against the wall to his left. His wool was orange-toned in the basement's solitary, buzzing light, and his eyes flickered with casual malice when he reached out to grab Canidae by the scruff of her neck.
Canidae screeched reflexively, but hung there like a slab of meat. She was cuffed on each limb. Even if she had the mentality of a fighter, even if she had the mind of the noble predator she was expected to be, she would be helpless. She didn't have either of those things, and she never would. The one thing she had were her senses.
She sniffed at him as he pulled her from the wall and pushed her to the ground. He smelled of cigars and gunpowder. He kicked the chair out of the way and she stole a quick glance at him before ducking her head back down. A black vest laden with pouches, armored pants, a watch.
"Won't waste time. Ultimatum." The sheep's voice was deep and gruff. "Concede early on election day. Live to see Swinton's second term."
Canidae balked, but knew better than to answer. An answer informed by her mood, at the moment, might set him off. This, whatever it was – an interrogation? A blackmailing? – would only be to her benefit if she treated it like the council floor, where she could talk circles around her peers. Not that it ever did her any good when the one holding the veto pen was her honorable opponent.
But here? In this basement, it might do her some good.
"Answer, yes or no."
Canidae jumped at the chance. "If I'm to say yes, I'm going to need some assurances, Mister…?"
"I've been instructed not to strike you, but I wager I could get away with one or two." His voice changed, gruff instructions becoming grave threats.
Canidae's felt her stomach lurch, and she nearly doubled over sobbing. If she had cried on the council floor, she'd have been laughed out of her seat. Now crying felt like all she could do. Sniffling and drooling, she tried to find a useful response.
"Whoever hired you is intelligent, as are you. I will concede… If I am beaten. Otherwise I would be dishonoring the mammals who vote for me."
"Then beaten you shall be."
Canidae's eyes were already cast down. She yelped and winced, tucking in her shoulders as the ram shifted, raising his fist above his shoulder.
"Albert, you wouldn't deface a ram's canvas before the brush has been applied, would you?" A smoother second voice asserted itself.
"A-ah." The other ram straightened, facing the door stiffly.
"Mister Woolliwell. I was trying to get her to accept the terms. Why are you even here? I thought you were painting upstairs."
"I'm here for pleasure."
"What?"
"I don't usually get paid to talk, but I couldn't miss the opportunity. Take your leave – you know her word can't be trusted anyway."
The ram who had been poised to strike Canidae left the room wordlessly, leaving her alone with this Woolliwell.
"I know a lot about you, Miss." Woolliwell announced, closing the door behind him very methodically. He pushed at it to be sure of the seal.
"And to think I don't know anything but your name." Canidae responded to the floor.
"Yes. That's all right. You haven't taken the offer? It's not a particularly good one. Not for a woman who was nursed on pride."
"Pride has nothing to do with it. It's dedication. I am a servant to those who elected me to city office and to those who believe in my campaign for mayor."
"We both know that isn't true." Woolliwell paced the room. There wasn't much space, and he occasionally brushed against her. He was wearing a suit, black, with yellow rubber gloves over his hooves. "Voters are stairs. You climb them and then you're done. Elected leaders are poor leaders."
"I don't know what you're trying to convince me of… but it's so cold in here I'll accept whatever it is you want if you'll simply let me get warm."
Canidae could see her breath through every word. Hunched there with her paws behind her back, she wanted to believe there was a warm hallway outside that door, maybe even a toasty sitting room with a roaring fireplace.
"I want to be sure that you understand why conceding is important. That you'll be powerless even if you win."
"You're going to all this trouble so that I can identify you in a police line-up?"
"Who will believe you? The prey police? The prey councilmembers? You're outnumbered. You don't have the votes to pass your bills and you never will. You're an afterthought. You're a kindness granted by prey to their predator charges. We are your stewards, and we decide whether you live, or whether, in just a few generations, you cease to exist."
"You keep saying we…"
"Even well-meaning prey contribute. Unknowing apathy and willful ignorance are our greatest weapons against the status quo."
"I'm having a conversation with a poet of statecraft. Couldn't I do so without cuffs?"
Woolliwell stopped pacing suddenly.
Canidae expected anything – a hit to the back of her head, a kick to her ribs. In some small way, she thought this mammal civilized enough to let her speak unbound. She looked up at him, his face unmarred by expression, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. She didn't know what he would do.
Woolliwell was reaching into his coat.
In a moment of macabre clarity, Canidae realized the room had never been painted.
"I-I heard him say your name. I'll tell the police. " She said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
Woolliwell retrieved a watch from his inside pocket to briefly check the time. As he did so, Canidae thought she briefly spied something colored a deep, azure blue.
"And that's all you know. All you ever will know. You're nothing but a dog. A mongrel, even. We could go public with your heritage, if you don't want to concede? Then you won't have to. You'll be run out of office, if not by the general public, then surely by your supporters."
Canidae's blood froze as solid as the ice beyond the basement walls. Woolliwell seemed to realize this – he put his hoof on her shoulder.
"I've been very kind. Very understanding. I am usually not so talkative with a canvas."
Canidae remained silent.
"I've… enjoyed this conversation. I do wish you have too. I'm afraid I have to be going – I have an appointment to work on a commission for my most generous patrons. As a politician, I'm sure you understand."
His hoof lingered on her shoulder for a moment longer before he stepped toward the door.
"And remember, the sword of Ramocles is hanging now. Don't let it fall. Concede."
The police cruiser sped through Downtown Savanna Central, sirens off, but headlights blaring. Downtown never seemed to sleep, and Judy knew pedestrian traffic would be more of a problem than vehicles. In her time as an officer, she had dealt with more than a few drunken mammals stumbling out of downtown clubs and into the street. Streetlamps and enormous, brightly lit advertisements dotted every building.
All three of the cruiser's occupants were on edge. Nick didn't show it, relaxing back into his seat, but his mind was racing. What were they driving into? A kitnapped city councilmammal, some hyena who could have been a gang enforcer for all he knew…
"What are we driving into?" He blurted out.
Judy, for once, didn't have an answer. She glanced up into the rear-view mirror and saw Andrea's reflection behind the wire mesh normally used to keep criminals at bay.
"Ma'am?"
"Like I said. Three or more. Armed. If things get hot-"
"We'll call backup." Judy assured. "Her life is more important than her job. And we're putting ourselves in danger going in without SWAT."
"I appreciate your assistance."
Something else weighed on Judy's mind, and, following Nick's example, she decided to bring it out. "Respectfully, ma'am, I never thought anyone could get Bogo to break protocol."
Andrea exhaled a snort. "Mansa is a very sweet buffalo."
Nick turned his body to look into the back seat. "We talking about the same chief?"
Andrea stared out the window as the cruiser turned onto Fruit Market toward the Mogul Street pass. "Mmmhmm. Used to go out drinking with him. Me, my husband, Bogo, and whoever else wanted to tag along."
Judy reached to the dash to turn the heater on as they neared the mountains and steep roads. Snow started to pixelate the view ahead.
Nick scoffed and rested his elbow on the edge of the door near the window. "Chief No-go let liquor touch his lips? I can't imagine. Must have been a different buffalo then."
"Well, he wasn't the chief. Weller was – ah, before your time. He's since passed."
"You ever heard of a Weller, Fluff?"
Judy shook her head – she was barely listening, all focus on the road and the task ahead.
"I… did have a question for the two of you."
"Shoot."
Andrea's eyes drifted back toward the front of the cruiser and the two, relatively small mammals. "You broke the missing mammals case and brought down two corrupt mayors. I'm sure you've been asked all about that, but… What was it like, seeing the savage mammals up close?"
Nick put his left paw on the back of his neck and rolled his head. "Like seeing a million years of evolution going out the window and for your throat."
There was beat of heavy silence between them.
"I was surprised when the details came to light. All it takes is one little plant to rob us of everything that makes us mammals…"
"We don't have to worry. It's over." Judy muttered with uncharacteristic terseness. She glowered at the road ahead, both paws on the steering wheel.
"Now that Doug's under arrest, sure."
"There are things other than plants that can put us in that place. When you've got no other choice, especially in our line of work, sometimes you have to use what you have."
Nick and Judy glanced in each other's direction.
"Look, there's the street. Tire tracks are even fresh."
Judy flicked the cruiser's headlights off and slowed to a crawl. She eased the front tires over an embankment of snow, following the tracks into a thick, murky wood. The falling snow deposited heavy loads of snow onto the branches of trees overhead, and occasionally some would fall onto the windshield.
"Nothing more welcoming than Tundra Town at night." Nick muttered, reaching his paws out toward the cruiser's heating vents. When the car stopped abruptly, his fingers hit against the plastic covers. "Carrots!" He grunted.
"Shhhh. Look."
Nick peered out the window toward a dim set of lights in the distance, and a plume of smoke.
"Is that.. a house? Out here?" Judy asked as she narrowed her eyes. The darkness and the distance didn't make visibility any easier in the snow.
Andrea unbuckled her seatbelt and unholstered one of her pistols. "It's not uncommon. Wealthy mammals build fortresses out here all the time. A refuge from the rest of us, I guess."
"You think that's where they took her?"
"Let's get closer. The tracks continue out. Are you prepared?"
"I don't want any more cases here for the next few years." Nick commented as he pushed his door open. His ears tucked down at the sudden rush of cold.
Judy followed, and into the snow they went.
The three of them all but disappeared into the white expanse. They moved in a tight formation, ducking their ears and heads down. One by one they neared the edge of a frozen garden and hedges that had overgrown their original shapes. There, towering above them all, sat the stone chateau. A host of yellow-lit windows glared down at them, while the chimney steadily gushed its pillar of thick, dark smoke.
"How are we getting in?"
"Most of these places are old." Andrea had to raise her voice to be heard over the snow and the wind in the trees. "There might be a service entrance in the back."
Judy took point, her small stature making her the perfect scout. She circled around the hedges and continued for a few yards further before she held up her paw in a 'stop' motion.
"Tracks…" She whispered, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
The tracks were large, and messy, as if whoever made them had been trudging haphazardly through the snow. Perhaps they were signs of a struggle?
"This is it. Come on."
Andrea had been right. They came across a side door, smaller, and surrounded by windows that emanated no light. It was dark on this side of the house, and as Judy put her paw on the doorhandle, she felt Andrea behind her, putting a paw on her shoulder.
"I'll go first. She's my boss. You two take my flanks. Let's go in slow, silent, and armed. Weapons up."
Nick was already priming his Taser. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Andrea took a breath with her paw on the door handle, pushing it lightly to ensure it was unlocked. It was. She exhaled and pushed it in with a smooth motion, ducking her head down and through the crack and letting her night vision do the work. Judy followed with her tranquilizer gun raised ready.
The smell was first. Charcoal, ash, and metal – and the unmistakable scent of sheep's wool. Before them, an empty kitchen gave way to a long service hallway leading to a lit room. A greatroom, from the size of it.
Nick positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with Judy and continued on after Andrea toward the open doorway. The only sounds any of them could detect were the cracklings of a fireplace just inside. The entered in formation, Judy watched their flank as Andrea and Nick ducked in and aimed toward the corners and walls.
"Clear." Nick called under his breath. His eyes swept the center of the room and widened as they focused on the tableau in the center. His jaw fell open before he covered it. "Oh, no..."
Andrea's whole body wanted to shake. She wanted to drop her pistol and run to the center of the room where the tarp lay. She wanted to yell and roar and smash her fists against the walls for all the futile effort that lay before her. A body, strewn on the floor like emptied luggage. Unzipped and open. A life, laid out for the maggots.
But Andrea kept her composure. She marched toward and past the body as Nick and Judy watched her flank. The floorboards creaked as she passed over them and stuck her head out another door. One by one checked she doors as she paced the perimeter of the room. Methodically, she closed each door behind her while averting her eyes from the grisly distraction just steps away.
Judy kept her tranquilizer raised, but she couldn't help herself. She bounded over to the center of the room, keeping low and watching Andrea's motions as she worked the perimeter. When it seemed safe enough, she lowered her gaze to the floor to the body in front of her. It was enormous to her, with dark fur, completely naked. All around it, a white tarp glistened with collected blood.
"It's… It's not her." Judy said aloud.
Andrea snapped her head toward Judy and shoved the last door shut, using the momentum to push herself toward her. She half-jogged and stopped just before the tarp. In another moment, Nick was at her side.
"If it's not her, then who is it?" Nick tersely questioned, looking away. He looked at Judy instead. He wished they were somewhere else – somewhere safer. This close, he could smell the blood as clearly as if he was covered in it.
"It's Urswald." Andrea spoke plainly. She buried her emotions, her worries. She focused on the task, and the task was to find her employer. "I'm moving on. Call your back up. Call whoever you want. This election is over now, and I want her home safe." Andrea moved toward the far door, one that lead to another hallway, before a crash startled all three of them.
"Get down!" Judy ordered, lowering herself and putting a hand on Nick to pull him low. She crept toward another door as Andrea made her way across the room to act as support. It was an unassuming door near the fireplace, and in its disrepair, it creaked when Judy inched it open. She winced at the sound, but her ears stood on end at the response.
A shriek coming from the other room.
"ZPD, on the ground!" Judy shouted, kicking the door the rest of the way open and sliding to the side. She felt Nick press next to her on the other side. She saw his Taser above her as he pointed it toward the door. Even with his proximity, every second they waited for a response felt like a slow drip from a faucet. Out of the corner of her eye, Judy saw Andrea reach one arm into the room and feel around the wall for a light switch. A moment later, the room illuminated.
It was some sort of library with another door leading elsewhere. That door was open, and in the middle of the room lie another figure.
Councilwoman Canidae.
She was on her knees, bent forward, with her paws out in front of her and her head down. She was completely prone, as if prostrating herself for prayer. Her clothes looked tousled, but she didn't appear to be any worse for the wear.
"Please," She begged, "Take me out of here."
Andrea looked across the open door to Judy and nodded once when their eyes met. She holstered her gun and moved into the room, standing over Canidae and frowning at her cuffed wrists and ankles.
"You can't walk like that."
"Andrea!" Canidae stuttered, lifting her head up and squinting. The light in this room seemed so much brighter than the basement.
"This whole estate is a crime scene. You two, call it in. I'll get her out." As Andrea spoke, she leaned down and picked up Canidae with one arm under her knees and another supporting her back. She could feel the councilwoman shaking in her arms and couldn't imagine what was going through her mind. "It's going to be okay." Andrea assured her. Her voice was soft and low, tone the same one she used to calm her sons when they had scraped their knees or encountered the more discouraging hardships of life.
"Central, this is Wilde with Hopps and Sarchus. Calling in for 11-44 off Snowcastle way. I'll lay down some flares. Send backup for possible suspects – building has not been fully cleared. Also, 10-57, mammal has been recovered, send a bus."
There was a pause before the radio replied. Nick looked up at Judy as she kept her focus on the doors and the possibility of danger.
"Copy, Wilde. Help's on the way. Did you say Sarchus?"
"Yeah. Advise the others."
"Copy."
"Alright, called in." Nick pushed his radio back onto his belt and stepped back from the door as Andrea brought Canidae in.
"Close your eyes." Andrea whispered, and Canidae did.
"Nick and I will follow you to the exit, but we're going to stay and wait for backup. It might take some time to clear this place. We can't take any chances with the victim. An ambulance is taking her to Saint Antelise. You're either going with her or you're coming with us."
"Yes, Officer." Andrea's reply betrayed her respect for Judy, but she didn't mind. "Did you hear all that?" She asked down to Canidae, who had tucked her head down and against Andrea's chest.
"I'm fine, I don't need a-"
"Good, I'll insist that the hospital staff make the visit as brief as possible. Come on, let's get you somewhere warmer."
"Is that a fire I hear? Why not here?"
"Miss Canidae, please… close your eyes. We can't stay here."