Chapter 11: Ashes to Ashes
The shop smelled like a mother's kitchen. Warm vanilla, sharp cinnamon, baked bread. A row of cakes posed behind the glass case like models. One dressed in creamy oak mousse and chocolate shavings sprinkled the crown tier.
Another cake wore decadent frosting that straddled the sides like a gown, and a strawberry sat on a bed icing at the midriff.
Fulcan stared at the cakes. He had skin the color of the badlands. A thin scar marked his bottom lip. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, slouched, and peeked over the counter.
Minerva followed him behind a baker's rack. She peeked between cream puffs and petit fours. Her eyes narrowed.
Minerva shuffled and tripped on her feet.
Fulcan swiveled on his heels, but he was too late.
Minerva pounced and threw her arms around his neck.
"You're home!" Minerva squeezed him.
Fulcan gasped and patted her arm, "-choking."
Minerva released him and stood beside him. Her elbow rested on the glass case. She twisted a stray lock of hair around her forefinger and tousled her bun loose.
Fulcan's cheeks reddened, and the blood flowed up to his neck, and he laughed, "who's the sad sap you've been practicing that choke hold on?"
"The Lentil brothers," Minerva smirked.
Fulcan paced the bakery and its familiar tan wallpaper. Photographs hung from wire threads on the wall. A picture of him and his sister side by side in Toad Town's streets tickled a smile from his lips.
"Where's dad?" Fulcan straightened the picture.
"He went to the market," Minerva said, her voice like a smile, "we were running low on vanilla extract."
Fulcan stood beside Minerva and his eyes and his heart set on a chocolate mousse cake, "if that's all he's getting," an exaggerated sigh puffed his chest, "guess I'll have to buy my homecoming gift."
"I wouldn't," Minerva said.
"Oh? And why not?" Fulcan quirked his brow. She took the bait.
Minerva bit her bottom lip and rolled her eyes, "it's supposed to be a surprise."
Fulcan smiled and tapped her shoulder, "a surprise? Details, please."
Minerva rolled her eyes. "I've said too much."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear anything," Fulcan crossed his arms, and he leaned against the wall.
"Yeah right, I-"
A bell chimed.
The front door swung open. Minerva's father stepped inside. He huffed and hauled armfuls of paper bags. They crinkled and warped and shifted.
"What happened?" Minerva said.
"Markets were packed. It was slim pickings, damn tourists," her father set a bottle of vanilla extract on the front counter, and he dabbed the sweat from his brow.
Fulcan cleared his throat and reached to help.
"Thanks," father mumbled. He stopped mid-step.
"Hey dad," Fulcan peeked over the bag.
"I thought you weren't arriving 'til tonight?" Father gasped.
"Ran into a caravan out of the Dry-Dry Province. Some mouse named Sheek showed me a short cut." Fulcan carried the bags around the counter.
"You remembered to check your pockets when you parted ways, right?"
"Not all mice are thieves dad," Fulcan tapped his foot.
"The ones out that way are," Father grunted and he clapped his hands of dust, "especially ones from the Outpost."
"That reminds me," Fulcan placed a ratty paper on the counter and pushed it toward his father, "I might've talked up your lemon delight. Sheek wanted to try some in return for getting me home."
Father grumbled, "I suppose I can repay him for your safety."
Minerva flipped the sign on the door to 'closed.' She skirted toward the kitchen. A pair of toads rinsed dishes and dried plates.
"Store's closed early, boys," Minerva's father said, and he yawned.
The taller toad, Laird Lentil, nodded at Fulcan and spoke, "you sure? We can help run the front counter."
The shorter brother, Masoor, frowned and elbowed the taller one.
"That's quite alright, it's a special occasion, think of it as a holiday," father patted the taller one's shoulder, "don't worry you'll get paid."
Masoor threw off his apron and hung it on a wall hook.
Laird yawned, "alright boss, you open tomorrow?"
"Same time as usual."
The doorbell chimed, and the brothers left.
All that remained was the family. Minerva paced the kitchen island and washed her hands clean of flour at the sink. Her blond bangs tickled her nose.
"How was the capital?" Their father spoke first, his hand on his hip.
"Busy," Fulcan rubbed his eye, "and you were right, all they eat are those stupid mushrooms. Mushrooms in cakes, in stews, in medicine."
"There's a reason they call 'em super 'shrooms." Father set bags on a counter.
Minerva grabbed an armful of carrots. She carried them to the pantry. She palmed the sweat from her temple and loaded carrots in a box.
Fulcan licked his lips. Carrot cake sounded heavenly.
"Did you get to meet Mario?" Minerva's head perked up.
Fulcan sputtered into a chuckle, "got to see him at a distance with the princess, but other than that, no. Castle guards scooped him up for 'official business.' "
"Wonder how he stays sane with all that attention." Minerva shook her head. "I'd have pulled my hair out three days in his position."
"He seems like a nice guy, though," Fulcan shrugged, "greeted everyone like they were his neighbor or something. All smiles and handshakes."
"Sounds like any MK bigwig," Father grunted, and he loaded a cabinet with canned peaches.
"He was different somehow, like, alien almost," Fulcan helped Minerva pour a sack of flour into a jar.
"That's because he's from The Otherside," Minerva scoffed.
"Oh please, that's just propaganda to scare the Koopas," Father grunted, "speaking of which, how did your meeting with the royal court go?"
Fulcan's head lowered and he sighed, "Minerva mentioned you had a surprise for me?"
"Did she?" Father cast her a short glance.
Minerva's shoulders slumped, and she scowled at Fulcan.
Father reached into the icebox and pulled out a tall bottle of sparkling wine. The bottle glimmered like blue topaz and cast bubbling refractions on the counter. He twisted a corkscrew.
"Winterwing," Fulcan whistled, "how'd you get ahold of that?"
Father thumbed the bottle's label, "wasn't easy, but I do have some connections up in Snowcap still. Old war buddy owed me."
Father poured his family a few glasses and a fine tide of bubbles rose to the surface. The drinks hissed, and the family gathered close.
"Welcome home, son." Father tipped the glass in Fulcan's direction.
"Good to be back." He clicked his glass against his father's and downed a sip. He exhaled a cloud of breath.
Minerva tested the drink. It tasted vaguely of raspberries. She swished the fermented ice flower on her tongue. A winter breeze shot down her throat. A shiver traveled her bones, and she enjoyed the respite from the heat.
The front doorbell chimed again. Minerva's father groaned. He set his drink on the counter. "Sign says we're closed."
The Lentil brothers were back in the shop. Laird's chest heaved, his head bowed, he cleared his throat. "Koopas, lots of Koopas," he gasped.
Shadows of soldiers marched in the canvas window. Blades clashed. A hammer smashed the window. City Guards laid out in the streets.
Minerva covered her mouth and stepped back.
"Upstairs," her father whispered, "upstairs, now."
X-X-X
Mario eased his way through the crowd with Minerva in tow. He tightened his facial wrappings.
Kaspar weaved through the outpost crowds.
Mario held a cooler by a red handle. Its contents sloshed. He watched for unwanted attention and followed Kaspar.
"You're certain this is a good idea?" Minerva said.
"This guy and I go way back," Mario patted the cooler.
"This place is a den of thieves," Minerva brushed her sword.
"Stay calm and don't stand out, if you look local they won't touch you, trust me," Mario moved closer to Kaspar.
"It's not me I'm worried about." Minerva said. "You tend to stand out in a crowd, your majesty. Disguise or not."
Kaspar lead them to a long complex of adobe buildings. The buildings towered over Mario and lush gardens burgeoned over the rooftops. Smatterings of green and blue flowers and curly vines cascaded the ledges.
Kaspar lead them to a door at the end of the complex. Another nomadimouse awaited them. A cloak obscured all but his yellow eyes.
"This is the one who called in the favor," Kaspar leaned close, and his nose twitched.
"As if you don't know me," Mario said.
Sheek tilted his head.
"I thought you said-" Minerva started, but Mario raised his finger to his lips.
"C'mon, Moustafa, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Mario put a hand on his hip.
"That is a dangerous name to speak so casually."
Mario lifted a plump lemon from the cooler; its water-slicked dimples glistened.
The nomadimouse's eyes trained on the lemon. Sheek snatched the lemon from Mario's hand and nudged open a nearby door. "Be quick, please."
Mario tailed Sheek up a flight of stairs. He raced past apartment doors. Mario's knees ached.
Sheek dashed from rooftop to rooftop, vaulting every obstacle, clearing every gap. He disappeared inside a dense rooftop garden.
"Follow me, your highness," Kaspar jogged forward, "rumor has it you can put our Tracers to shame," Kaspar approached a rooftop ledge and peeked back at Mario.
Kaspar strolled a few paces back for a running start. He leaped the gap arms first. Kaspar snagged the opposite ledge and mantled up.
Mario rolled his shoulders. He jogged backward a few steps and charged forward. Mario kicked off the ledge. He soared over the gap and landed paces beyond Kaspar.
Kaspar's nose twitched. "Now that's almost unfair."
Minerva leaned over the gap. Her fingers twitched. She leaped forward, arms stretched out, and her fingers missed the opposite ledge.
Mario grabbed Minerva's forearm and dragged her to safety.
"You alright?" Mario said.
Minerva stepped past him and said nothing.
Kaspar ventured through a rooftop garden. Sprinklers misted the plants and soaked his clothes. Kaspar lead them to a rotunda hidden in the garden.
Sheek awaited beside the rotund, his arms tucked behind his back. He drew a dagger from his cloak. The white blade rippled in the midday sun.
Minerva drew her sword and put herself between Mario and Sheek.
Mario yelped and staggered back, his arms flailed, "no, no, Minerva wait."
Sheek cocked his head. He faced the rotunda and inserted the dagger inside a narrow slit. He twisted the hilt.
A door clicked open.
Minerva sheathed her sword. Her stance relaxed.
Once inside, Mario unraveled his wrappings, and he crossed his arms.
"I apologize for being so short with you down there," Sheek cast off his cloak, and he placed the lemon on a tabletop and his eyes trained on Minerva, "I did not mean to alert your bodyguard."
"No, no, I'm sorry, she's just doing her job," Mario held his hands up.
"Don't you fret," he approached Minerva and extended his paw, "a friend of Mario's is a friend of mine."
Minerva shook his hand.
"Such a firm grip!" The mouse chuckled, "Kaspar, they must be parched, please get some drinks."
"Right away." Kaspar shuffled outside and left them alone.
"I am Moustafa," he said to Minerva, "'the king of thieves' if you ask the rabble outside."
Minerva said nothing.
"This is the new captain of the guard," Mario stepped in, "Minerva. She's the, er, strong and silent type."
"Ah, yes," Moustafa grinned, "I can appreciate someone who listens before they speak."
Mario sighed and his shoulders relaxed.
The door creaked open. Kaspar returned with a pitcher of water and a few glasses. Mario took one, and he sipped it gingerly. There was the faintest hint of lemon.
"I need your help again," Mario said.
"Ah, can't it just be for a visit? You never visit unless you need something." Mosutafa downed a gulp of water.
Mario opened his mouth to apologize, but Moustafa laughed.
"Relax, I am only kidding," he sat on a cushion and let his body sink into the velvet expanse, "what can the great Moustafa do for you, my friend?"
"We need help getting to Lapiston. Let's just say I don't have the means to mount an official expedition."
"Lapiston?" Moustafa sipped his drink and smacked his tongue. "Why would you want to go to such a wretched place?"
"It's a long story," Mario sat on a cushion opposite Moustafa, he crossed his legs and balanced his elbows on his knees.
Minerva chose to stand beside the door. Her hand hovered beside her blade.
"Can you get us there?" Mario said.
"I can get you anywhere in the Koophari, friend, but Lapiston is a tall order."
"All I need is transportation and supplies. I promise I'll pay it all back when this is over."
"You still haven't told me why."
Mario sighed. "There are supposedly five artifacts hidden there, important and powerful ones."
Moustafa's whiskers twitched. He stroked his chin, "this will not be an easy task. That's Bluecoat territory. They will not take kindly to intrusions from my mice."
"We can handle bandits," Minerva said.
"Hornets are no issue when they are away from the hive, but when you kick the nest, well," Moustafa shook his head, "but you knew this didn't you? I presume you requested my big trucks for a reason."
"We've got a few of Bowser's kids with us," Mario sat straighter, " as I said, it's a long story, but they're helping us."
Moustafa's yellow eyes twinkled. "I see. So was this Roy Koopa's doing? Settling an old score perhaps?"
"No. Ludwig Von Koopa's convinced everyone we need some serious firepower."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the coup in the Darklands?" Moustafa's expression tightened.
"Excuse me?"
"So you haven't heard," Moustafa cleared his throat, "some of my mice east of the border have brought news of an attack from within Castle Koopa. Your dear queen has been busy rallying up a rebellion."
"That's not Peach," Mario set his glass between his legs.
"I see," Moustafa scratched his chin, "and what's so dangerous about this 'not Peach.'"
Minerva hid her face.
Mario curled his lips, "she has Agaricus's sword."
Moustafa squinted, "ah that is a problem." Moustafa sat up straighter. "Have you been to Lapiston since the Koopa's invasion?"
Mario shook his head.
"Nor have I, it is not a friendly place," Moustafa scratched his chin, and there was a slight tremble in his voice, "I hear rumors from my braver smugglers."
Mario leaned closer to hear Moustfa better.
"They say there is a black aura there. The sand itself is slaked with hatred. Something more than bandits await you, something much worse."
"Please, I've dealt ghosts and 'something worse' before," Mario smirked.
"If not for those greencaps, I fear you would have died years ago," Moustafa smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He grabbed Mario's arm and leaned close. "I will provide you with as much as I can give, but I cannot spare too much."
"Thank you."
"Stay safe, old friend," Moustafa's smile disappeared, he whistled, "Kaspar! You know what to do."
Mario looked at the mouse and nodded.
Kaspar hopped to his feet, and he ran to the door, "right, right. This way."
Mario and Minerva stood to follow him.
"Lapiston here we come."
X-X-X
The truck hissed. Roy and his brothers swayed as the vehicle jolted to a halt. Roy steadied himself and put his ear to the wall. He heard a Yoshi's sing-song language and whispery toad and hushed mouse squeaks.
The secret door screeched open. Kaspar cast a long shadow. "We're safe, come on out," Kaspar bowed.
The room was dark save for the electric lights that dangled from the highest point of the ceiling. A generator trundled in the distance. A pulsating cluster of swooping-bats gathered where the light did not touch.
Kaspar sinewed between the trucks and the other nomadimice.
"Where are we?" Roy said.
"It's a secret to everyone," Kaspar mumbled, "make yourselves at home. It will be some time before we leave again."
Ludwig rubbed the back of his neck, "any chance there's something to eat?"
Cheatsy's eyes lit up.
"How'd I know that was gonna be the first thing you'd ask?" Roy sniggered.
"I don't blame him, I even see another mushroom I might keel over dead," Larry mumbled.
Kaspar walked past Ludwig. "There's cafeteria of sorts that'd be happy to oblige. If you have some coin on you, of course."
Ludwig scratched his chest, a small pocket of jangling coins rattled.
"You got enough for your loyal crew and pals?" Cheatsy put on his best puppy eyes.
"I hope." Ludwig sighed.
"It's called portion control," Roy patted Ludwig's back.
"Yeah, yeah," Ludwig brushed off Roy's hand. "You'll know where to find me."
Ludwig, Larry, and Cheatsy wandered off through the underground den.
Roy and Junior approached the next truck. Luigi stood beside the back of the cargo truck and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Vine sat on the lip of the truck bed beside Rocky, and they whispered to each other.
"How'd you get involved with this family, anyway?" Vine said.
"My father," Rocky cleared his throat, "was recruited by the old king Koopa to build the first Castle Koopa."
"No kidding, the moles?" Vine snorted.
"Engineered the first lava pumps too!" Rocky nodded sagely. "Now I never met old Furic, but the way my dah talked about him, you'd never hear him speak more pious in church."
Vine tilted his head, "but why stay with his son? Bowser's an awful ruler."
Rocky snorted, "typical of a Mushroomer not to understand. The Koopa Royal family gave the Moles a fighting chance against the other Darkland Tribes. Without Furic or Bowser, we'd be Hammer or Firebrand Tribe flunkies." Rocky's claws flexed. "Or extinct."
Junior trotted toward Vine and Rocky, his eyes alight with questions and his face bright.
"Wait, your dad met my grandpa?" Junior said.
"I'd hope so, he was the royal engineer," Rocky jostled his utility belt.
Roy bit his bottom lip. Bowser, or any Koopa for that matter, never deserved such loyalty. He left Junior and Rocky and approached Luigi.
"Where's Mario?" Roy said.
Luigi shrugged, "what am I, his keeper?"
Roy rolled his eyes. He decided to explore the cave complex himself. Motorbikes, small autos, carriages, and of course the cargo trucks docked and awaited resupply.
Nomadimice swarms gathered as one. They hoisted boxes twice their size and moved them between transports.
A foreman of sorts tweeted a tin whistle and the mice scattered to the next job. Loaded vehicles rumbled and ascended a ramp to the infinite desert sun.
Roy slid off his goggles. He squinted and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. A makeshift cafeteria lay beyond the docking garage. Fried foodstuff spoke in its heavy scent. Roy's stomach rumbled in response.
Larry, Cheatsy, and Ludwig sat before at plate of scorpions. Fried breading speckled their black exoskeletons. Their tails were bare of stingers.
Roy grimaced.
"I'll try it if you try it," Cheatsy sniffed at the fried arachnids.
"Next time I'll ask for something else," Larry pouted.
Ludwig pinched a scorpion's middle, raised it to his lips, and he bit off its head. Black bits of shell crumbled and flecked his beard. He contemplated the flavor then popped the rest in his mouth. "Could use a sauce or something, but it tastes like a potato chip."
Larry and Cheasty looked at each other.
Roy disregarded the bug eating and abandoned his appetite. He followed the cafeteria to its end and found a network of catwalks that spiraled deeper inward.
Mario and Minerva walked on opposite sides of Kaspar.
Bingo.
"Hey, Mario!" Roy's voice echoed off the cavern ceiling. A cluster of bats squeaked in response.
Mario lifted his hat and smoothed back his hair as Roy jogged close.
Minerva went rigid and faced Roy. Her sword arm twitched.
"Finally found you," Roy exhaled, "listen, I need to tell you something."
"Roy? What's the matter?" Mario cocked his head.
"Mario, really this-"
"It can wait." Minerva scowled. "We've wasted enough time on you Koopas as it is."
Mario quirked his brow and turned toward Roy. "We'll talk later, alright?"
"This can't wait," Roy snapped, the bats squeaked louder, "listen, we can just take the supplies and get across the desert, no problem, I'll deal with Ludwig."
Minerva stood between Mario and Roy, her head leaned back and her hard pale eyes sharp with anger, "you think you can get out of this?"
Roy's eyes were wet with shame, and he loosed a shaking sigh.
"In case you haven't noticed," Mario grabbed Minerva's arm and yanked her back, "most of us plan on going. The last thing I need is for our group to split up," Mario glanced over his shoulder and looked the trucks where Luigi and Vine sat, "I don't want anyone getting hurt because I was too stubborn."
Roy bit his bottom lip.
"If this is what happened," Mario sighed, "it's not your fault. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Minerva scoffed, and she stormed off. Her boots clacked the ground. Mario cocked his head. "Was it something I said?"
Roy watched her leave, and he felt his ribs grow tight around his heart.
"Excuse me, but we are pressed for time, are we not?" Kaspar jumped.
Mario followed the mouse, "Hey Roy, know anything about logistics?"
Roy bobbed his head.
"Good, maybe you can help with the resupply instead," Mario beckoned. Roy remained close behind.
X-X-X
A pair of cargo trucks coasted the horizon. They trundled up the dunes and carved a wedge through the Koophari. A motorized kart snaked the vehicles and leaped off a tall sandy ridge.
Mario hooted and hollered after cresting the Koophari's dunes. Luigi held his cap to his head and screamed. Daisy cheered and hugged Luigi. The engine drowned their voices.
Mario flicked the radio, "Kaspar, I want one of these."
"You keep that Dunerider in one piece, you can take it home," Kaspar said.
Mario shifted gears and followed beside the lead car. Round stacks of cacti cast oblong shadows on the sand. Mario drifted past the waxy crowd of plants.
One stack trembled and a pair of eyes stretched open. The heaps of cacti slithered beside the tire tracks before tiring and returning to dormancy. Their red eyes followed the horizon.
The makeup of the desert changed. No longer sandy dunes but pale pumice. No scraggly desert weeds grew in the cracked miles of radiant stone.
The tread on the trucks rattled on the pumice and crushed pebbles. Plumes of dust gathered behind them like coattails. The furious sunrays beat upon them.
Hazy cloaked figures watched from the safety of a hill. Their teal-garbed leader put a spyglass to his eye. He followed the caravan.
The leader made a motion with his hand, and the bandits leaped atop motorized bikes.
X-X-X
Larry's tail swiveled, and he watched the dashboard. Gauges clicked and sputtered. Kaspar sang along with the radio.
Larry sighed. Still, it beat being locked up in the cargo hold.
"You are so silent," Kaspar turned the radio down a pinch, "a good co-pilot should not be so silent."
"Sorry, I'm thinking," Larry pressed his cheek against the warm window.
"Might I pry?"
"It's nothing interesting," Larry shrugged, "do you have brothers?"
"All Moustafa's clan are my brothers."
"Your poor mother."
Kaspar chuckled, "you're a funny guy, I like funny guys."
"But do you?"
"I have many brothers, as I said," Kaspar cleared his throat, "we are brothers in purpose."
"Do you ever fear for one?" Larry cocked his head.
"Life is too short to dwell on fear," Kaspar said, "we all know that death is coming for us, and we wish to face it with our boots on, so to speak."
"I guess you wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"My oldest brother, I guess he's adopted, since I don't know who our real mom or dad is, but," Larry shook his head, "that's beside the point. My older brother wanted to kill himself."
"Do you have any idea why he might want that?" Kaspar flicked the radio down until only a faint rumble in the speakers remained. His whiskers twitched, and he watched the pumice flats.
"I'm not sure," Larry angled the air conditioning toward his face. He sat up straight. His mohawk brushed the ceiling. He smoothed his hair back.
Kaspar jerked the gear shift, and the car sped up, "we all want a reason to keep on going, to feel important in the grand scheme of things. When we lose sight of that goal, sometimes it is easier to stop going instead of facing the unknown."
"Sounds like you've put some thought into this."
"Before I joined Moustafa I felt much the same," Kaspar said, "why keep on going when tomorrow is no different than today, and every day after that is the same? Perhaps your brother is grappling with his sense of purpose in the world."
Larry latched onto the words, "how do you fix it?"
Kaspar shrugged, "only he can find out for himself."
Larry's eyes were hot with the start of tears, and he turned so Kaspar could not see.
"You are a strange crowd," Kaspar mumbled, "you all try to be so hard faced and cruel looking, but it is not you. Or, at least, it does not suit you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Kaspar hummed. He glanced at the mirrors. Dust clouds swirled in the distance. His nose twitched, "I smell trouble." Kaspar flicked his two-way radio. "We've got trouble, regroup." His truck rumbled to a slower pace.
Mario drove closer to investigate.
Kaspar unrolled the driverside window upon the Dunerider's approach. "Bluecoats on the horizon, these folk attack on sight and aren't keen on leaving survivors."
Mario looked at the trucks. He pursed his lips, "well, can't say we didn't know this was coming."
The thick dust clouds swirled. Larry could make out the silhouettes of drivers in the distance. "Better figure it out quick," Larry shouted.
There was rumbling behind Larry. The vent behind his head jerked open. Roy's muzzle appeared in the grate. "What's going on out there?"
"Bandits," Larry said.
"Finally, some action," Roy popped his knuckles, and he shuffled away.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Larry called back to him.
The back of the truck rolled open and heavy footsteps sounded from outside. Larry pushed the passenger door open, and he saw Roy beside Mario's car.
"Here," Roy threw an armful of javelins into the back of the Dunecrawler, he leaned over and flicked on Mario's two-way, "Rocky. Get the supply car towards the front. Kaspar'll tail you. When the jerks get close, I'll throw open the back and hold them off," he raised a javelin for emphasis, "and Mario you'll hang around the front and take on the ones that slip through the cracks."
"Roger that," Rocky's voice crackled.
"But what if someone gets past both of you?" Larry shouted over the wind. "Rocky's driving and Konrad can't fight. They're sitting ducks."
"On it," Vine leaped from his seat in the Dunecrawler, and he broke into a dead sprint.
Junior barreled from the smugglers truck, arm full of javelins, his breathing wild. "Wait up!"
Mario buffed the dust from his mustache and turned toward Kaspar, "you heard the guy, get a move on."
Kaspar bounced from Mario's Dunecrawler and pointed at the other supply truck and then twisted his fingers in a swirling motion.
Rocky held his thumbs up. Konrad braced himself. The engine roared.
Larry climbed from his seat and made a move toward Roy.
Roy grabbed Larry's shoulders. "Hold on, where are you going."
"I can help," Larry weaseled out of Roy's grip.
Roy sighed, "fine, but stay outta my way."
The rear truck lurched into motion and rolled to the front of the caravan. Roy steadied himself and locked the smuggler door open.
Ludwig wobbled to the edge of the truck.
"Get off your feet," Roy pointed to the corner, "you're in no condition for this."
Cheatsy peeked around Ludwig, "is there anything I can do?"
"Yeah, make sure this one," Roy prodded Ludwig's chest with his claw, "doesn't do anything stupid. No more Embers."
Ludwig's throat rumbled, and he stepped toward the back of the car.
The desert horizon shifted. The truck rumbled into motion. Kaspar floored the gas. Larry grabbed the wall.
A roiling duststorm blotted the horizon. Blue cloaked bandits emerged. Larry covered his face.
"Where'd that come from?" Larry coughed.
The bandits doubled up on motorbikes; the drivers leaned forward. The rear-seat bandits waved crude clubs with razors hammered into the head and slings and jars of boiling yellow smoke.
The air reeked of exhaust and oil and a pair of bandits closed on Roy.
Roy hurled a javelin into the front wheel's spokes. The tire locked. Metal shrieked. The bike flipped. Both bandits crashed into the sand.
Two other bikes raced past Roy toward the supply truck. Larry grabbed a javelin and tried to stop them. His spears missed and vanished into the hungry clouds.
"Stop wasting spears," Roy snarled.
Larry flinched.
Three bikes closed in on Roy and Larry.
Two bandits wielded slings. They hurled spiked balls and punctured the cargo truck's outer shell.
Roy ducked and a crimson spiny-ball embedded itself in the wall. He blocked his face, and another ball lodged in his arm.
Roy roared and ripped the ball free. Hot blood trickled down his biceps, "I just fixed this fu-"
Larry tackled his older brother to the ground, and another spiked ball dented the inside of the car.
Larry grabbed a javelin and held the thickest end upward. He squinted at the nearest sling bearer.
A ball twirled toward Larry. He swatted it with the butt of the javelin. The ball smacked the driver's forehead. The bike flew out of control and crashed into another pair of bandits.
Another bandit swerved onto the pumice flats. He waved a glass jar. Yellow smoke burgeoned from the neck. The bandit tossed the bomb.
Larry drew a breath through his nose and he counted back from ten. His eyes narrowed. He envisioned the bottle flying into his hand. He snatched the jar from the air. Larry threw the jar, and it twisted in a twirling arc.
Miasmic fog and blue fire exploded from the bottle and engulfed the bike.
Roy looked at Larry and nodded. "Not bad kid."
"Guys, guys," Cheatsy ran, "the mouse dude says hold on!"
The truck bounced. Cheatsy flew off his feet and smacked the wall. Roy lost his footing, he grabbed door flap and twisted out the entrance. He skipped on the sand like a pebble on a lake.
A lump of blue cloth and a crushed bike zoomed from beneath the truck. Roy twisted and narrowly avoided the wreckage.
"Roy!" Larry dove on his stomach, and he reached out to his brother.
A thick 'thrip' noise set Larry's heart racing.
Roy jerked, and he inched further and further away.
Larry grasped the curtain right as it gave.
Larry slammed the ground. His chin struck the metal floor, and he tasted blood. He screamed. Hot tears streamed down his face.
Another pair of hands brushed past him and grabbed the torn tarp. Ludwig snarled and his legs spread into a wide stance. He yanked it back. His teeth gnashed, and he pulled Roy closer.
Roy clawed his way through the sand.
A spiked ball whizzed through the air and struck Ludwig's arm. The eldest koopaling gasped. His brow tightened into a murderous scowl, and he pulled harder.
Another bike whizzed into view. The driver was alone. He swirled a sling with one hand and held the handlebars with the other. The driver hurled another ball at Ludwig.
The ball punctured Ludwig's chest. His grip faltered for less than second. He nearly lost control.
Larry scrambled to his feet. He hurled a javelin. Everything moved in slow motion. His heart pounded in his ears. He watched the trajectory, the arc, the spin on shaft.
The driver dropped his sling. He slumped to the side and landed in the dirt. The spear bulged from his ribs.
Roy reached the edge of the truck. He jumped and snagged the lip of the bumper. His claws sunk into the metal with a horrible screeching sound. Ludwig slipped and fell on his back, his legs kicked in the air.
Cheatsy and Larry grabbed Roy's arms and hoisted him back to safety.
They all slumped on the floor beside Ludwig.
Larry and Roy looked at each other and laughed softly. The thrill of living filled their resolve.
Ludwig pulled the spiked balls from his arm and chest and he snarled. "Ff-" he bit his bottom lip.
"You're alright Luddy," Roy examined the wounds, "the needles didn't sink in as deep. That extra fluff's good for something after all."
Ludwig propped himself on the wall. "Speak for yourself. I think I dislocated my shoulder trying to drag you back."
"It's all muscle baby," Roy flexed, blood trickled down his arm, and he gasped.
"Is everyone alright back there?" Kaspar shouted Larry ran to the vent.
"What the hell was that all about?" Larry pressed his face to the grate.
"I had to engage in vehicular combat," Kaspar said, "I think I overdid it."
Roy's knees ached. The scales on his shins pulled raw. He smoothed them, and he winced. "How many others are there?"
"Hold that thought." Kaspar turned from the grate. The cargo hold lurched. Metal clanged on truck raced past a laid out bike.
Toom! Larry flinched and stepped away from the walls. Someone boarded. They were moving along the edges of the truck. Their boots clattered against the side.
Roy covered his arm and moved to the back of the truck, he tested his grip and tried to hoist himself onto the roof, but the gash in his arm proved too painful to bear. He hissed through his teeth, dropped on the ground, and roared.
"Give me a boost," Larry grabbed a javelin.
Ludwig and Roy looked at him.
"Stop staring; they're gonna get Kaspar!" Larry ran to the end of the truck.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Roy shook his head, he got on his knee and allowed Larry purchase on his back.
"Roy, he's gonna get himself killed," Ludwig snapped.
"You're not climbing up there, not in your condition," Roy grunted, and he hoisted Larry onto his shoulders, "and I'm not going far with my arm."
Ludwig's nostril twitched, "you have a point," he took Larry's opposite arm.
"Wait!" Cheatsy stood beside Roy. "Get me up there, too."
The truck lurched, and Cheatsy flopped on his back.
"Now or never," Roy grunted and hoisted Larry.
Ludwig grit his teeth and the brothers lifted Larry.
Larry hooked his claws on the roof, and he mantled the truck's roof.
Larry dug his claws into the tarp, and he crawled his way across the top of the truck. His fingers hooked the metal frame, hot wind blasted his face and his eyes teared up. "Oh Stars, this was a terrible idea."
Larry dragged himself claw by agonizing claw.
A pair of bandits dangled from the side, their coats waved like flags. He swatted one hand with the flat of the javelin and sent the bandit to his doom. The other bandit's white mask peaked above the lip of the truck, and he raised a spiked club.
Larry jabbed the bandit's mask.
The bandit swatted the javelin's tip aside, and he crawled toward Larry.
Sweat pearled on Larry's brow, his lips pulled taught, and he thrust the javelin.
The bandit dodged and grabbed Larry's mohawk and raised the club to strike.
Larry's moved to block. His claws unhooked from the truck. Larry threw his arms forward and snatched the bandit's cloak.
The two of them hurtled off the truck. Roy and Ludwig screamed his name. His stomach turned cartwheels inside him.
Larry's leg crunched upon hitting the ground. Searing pain shot up his shin through his thigh and needled his groin.
Larry lay still. His hair was huge with sand. His hands trembled.
The bandit was even less fortunate. His body bent in half at the hips. His legs twitched.
Larry crawled in the sand. His leg ached, and hot tears trickled down his cheeks and smeared the sand into mud. His rubber-hose leg flailed. Sand filled his shell between a crack. He looked at the trucks and saw them shrink, further and further, his eyes grew heavy.
X-X
Ludwig grabbed Roy's neck and shook him, "you idiot, what did you do to him?"
Roy tore himself free of Ludwig's grip. He ran to the front of the car. "Kaspar, turn it around, Larry's out there."
"They'll surround us if I stop."
Roy punched a dent in the grate.
"I would appreciate you not destroying my equipment." Kaspar snapped.
Roy rubbed his temples, and he grabbed a javelin.
Ludwig reached out and saw Roy climb off the back of the truck.
Roy tucked and rolled on the ground. His shell left spiked imprints in the sand. Roy broke into a dead sprint, and his head ducked forward.
Ludwig looked at Cheatsy, "he's gonna need help."
"Right, let's all get ourselves killed and leave Kaspar defenseless," Cheatsy trembled.
Ludwig clenched his fists. He bounded to the edge of the truck, and he hopped off. Cheatsy inched toward the lip of the car, he looked back over his shoulder and then beyond at the desert.
Meanwhile, a bike mounted bandit closed in on Roy. The bandit raised his razored club.
"Roy, down!" Ludwig out shouted the wind.
Roy dove beneath the broad stroke and stabbed the bike's rear tire with the javelin. The rubber wheel deflated, and the bandit tumbled over the handlebars.
The bandit hit the ground and gasped.
Roy wobbled to his feet and stomped on the bandit's back until it cracked.
Ludwig bent over his knees. His bad eye throbbed. Sharp pains tickled his brain. He shook the pain away and pressed on.
A squad of bandits surrounded Larry. They lifted him onto the back of a bike and fastened ropes around his middle. The teal-clad leader paced them.
The dust storm swirled into a cyclone. Ludwig's hair blasted into a blue cloud of sweat and dirt. His eyes watered and he coughed up sand soaked phlegm.
Roy bared his teeth and raised his spear. The sand flecked harmlessly off his goggles. He skewered the first bandit he encountered and kneed the next.
The teal-clad bandit smacked the back of Roy's head. Razors cut deep, and warmth trickled down the nape of his neck. He saw pulsing lights. His temples throbbed.
Cheatsy ducked between Roy's legs and sprinted toward Larry. The onslaught paused a moment. A few bandits broke off from the horde and chased Cheatsy.
The teal bandit cornered Roy. The bandit swiped. Roy blinked through the pain and steadied himself and juked.
Roy grabbed club's head, the razors bit into his fingers, and his flesh screamed. He wrestled the weapon from his opponent. The bandit staggered backward.
More bandits surrounded Roy.
Roy grit his teeth. He beat the hordes back with the bloody club. Roy stumbled backward, limp piles of blue surrounded him.
Cheatsy sprinted toward the Teal leader; he scooped up a discarded club off the ground. Cheatsy dropped to his knees and swung for the bandit leader's calves.
The Teal bandit leaped over the strike and kicked Cheatsy's nose.
The Mock-koopalings eyes crossed and Cheatsy flipped on his back. Blood trickled down his nostrils.
Roy grunted, and he charged toward the dark shapes of Cheatsy, Larry, and the bandit leader.
The Bluecoats emerged en masse from the clouds like sand effigies. Their white faces glowed in the shadows of the storm.
Roy stood there, bleeding, a dull hum growled in his ears. He squinted. The buzzing sound grew louder until it roared.
Mario's Dunecrawler raced past and flattened a pair of bandits. Minerva jumped from the vehicle and plunged her sword into another bandit.
The impaled bandit squirmed, she kicked him and yanked the weapon free.
Minerva moved stance to stance. A Bluecoat swung overhead. Minerva caught the club on her hilt, parried the club off her blade, and stabbed the bandit's face. The sword punched through a mask and out the other end of the bandit's head. He slid off the blade and lay motionless.
Roy limped toward Larry. The teal bandit stood still. His white mask glared. Roy squeezed his razor club.
The teal bandit swung his club and exposed his right flank.
Roy smashed the teal bandit's face with a horizontal swipe.
The bandit's mask shattered and the pieces scattered the sand. He dropped to his knees. His teal cloak stained red.
Roy swung overhead, teeth bared.
The bandit rolled beneath the strike and escaped inside the sandstorm.
Roy charged. A shrill whistle tone echoed off the horizon. Then, sudden as it had arrived, the storm disappeared.
The koophari's pumice vastness surrounded Roy. The teal bandit was gone. A trail of broken motorbikes and lumps of blue fabric stretched lengthwise across the horizon.
Sand brushed the tops of his feet. He dropped the bloody club. It landed on the pumice with a 'whump' and his blood-slicked hand burned. He traced his steps back to Larry and saw that his brother was on the ground, motionless.
Roy dropped to his knees and shook Larry, "please be alive, please be alive."
Larry spit up sand, and he rolled onto his side.
Roy inspected the damage. The most apparent wound was Larry's left leg. It was limp below the knee and swollen twice as thick. Shards of busted shell shanked an exposed section of his younger brother's back.
"Damn," Roy mumbled, "where do I even start?"
A long shadow approached the brothers.
Roy tensed, and he seized a discarded club.
"Put that down if you know what's good for you," Minerva said and sheathed her weapon.
"Larry?" Ludwig jogged and looked his brother up and down. "Come on, help me move him," Ludwig gestured towards Larry.
X-X-X
Larry gasped. He hunched over, v-legged, and his awkward limbs spasmed, and he yowled curses.
"I know, I know, it hurts, hang in there," Ludwig whispered. He steadied his forceps. He lifted his eye-patch, and his bloodshot eye was exposed for all to see.
Roy held a metal pan and Ludwig discarded the bloody shards.
Ludwig rubbed his brow on his forearm.
He held his breath as he extracted more bits of broken shell. Junior studied Ludwig and his careful maneuvers. Precise and practiced hands applied topical medicine to the cuts and foam sealed them.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Junior mumbled. His tone was almost accusatory.
"Lemmy and Roy used to get hurt a lot, so I read books and bugged Kamek to teach me," Ludwig grunted and pressed a gauze pad on Larry's punctures, "I got a lot of practice that way."
Ludwig checked Larry's splint and Larry shivered.
Mario hummed. His mustache wrinkled with his lips as he smiled, "guess you're a handy guy to have around."
"Depends on who you're asking." Ludwig rummaged through the crate of medical supplies. He lifted a wrapped bundle of vials. "MK medicines are a little foreign to me, though."
Mario reached around Ludwig's arm and picked a vial of rose liquid. A heart sticker marked the jar. He plucked the cork and handed it to Larry. "That should do it."
Larry sighed, "here goes nothing." He downed the vial and gagged. His eyelids drooped.
"Rose-cap extract is great for this sort of thing, it's like a less potent green-cap, granted it doesn't pick you up quite as fast, and there're still side effects," Mario stretched his legs and sat back.
"What sort of side effects are we looking at here?" Ludwig frowned.
"Drowsiness, hallucinations, pain in the afflicted region," Mario counted on his fingers.
"Goody." Larry slumped on his back. His eyelids eased shut.
Roy blinked a few times, and he tenderly rubbed the bandages that wrapped his head. He put his back to the wall of the truck. Roy stared at his feet.
"Bowser's not going to recognize us by the time we get home," Ludwig covered his afflicted eye.
"I hardly recognize us right now," Larry mumbled.
Ludwig packed the medical supplies. Ludwig and Mario climbed from the back of the truck and braced for desert heart. The sun was furious red, and the sky was blue at its end.
Minerva and Vine squatted beside a pile of blue cloth. Vine prodded it with his sword. Kaspar sniffed the fabric, and his whiskers twitched.
"What did you find out?" Mario reached for the blue cloak.
Minerva scooped a handful of white dust, and it trickled between her fingers, "I've seen this once before. Amanita's clones turned to ash upon death."
"So these guys were with Amanita?" Mario cocked his head.
"No. I'm sure we would have seen other members of her crew by now," Ludwig rubbed his chin, "this is someone else's merry band of clones."
Kaspar's tail flicked left to right. "Clones? The Bluecoats have always been peculiar, but I never suspected this."
Vine sneezed, and a cloud of white blasted the others. Minerva covered her face. Kaspar backed off, hacking and coughing and spitting. Mario flicked his mustache clean, his eyes watered. Ludwig dusted the powder from his stomach.
Vine wiped his lips clean of residue. "Sorry, sorry," Vine's eyes watered, "ugh, it tastes like burnt toast."
Mario squinted. A folded paper hid in the folds of the cloak. He pinched the yellowed paper and yanked it free from the sand. He shook it free of dust and thumbed the corners back.
"Oh boy," Mario mumbled, he angled the page for others to see.
Ludwig recognized the washed out black and white photos. Bits and pieces of Castle Koopa's great hall were visible in the background.
The words 'Wanted: Alive' headed the page. Their faces were stern and clipped from a larger photo. Ludwig saw a ten thousand coin reward stamped beneath his frowning visage.
"By decree of the Darkland Liberation Front the Koopa Royal family has been convicted of treason and must serve trial for their crimes," Mario looked at Ludwig.
"This complicates things," Ludwig raked his claws through his hair, and he breathed softly as a whisper.
"I dunno, maybe we can cash the bounty for a few of you guys and use the reward to buy some proper gear," Vine said.
Ludwig glared at him.
"I'm kidding." Vine scoffed.
Ludwig rolled his eyes and examined the pictures once more. Ludwig, Larry, Junior, and Roy. The numerical values were all circled in red, save for Roy's. A thick red 'X' crossed his face.
"Guess they figured he's easier to kill than to capture," Ludwig looked at the truck that housed the injured.
Minerva studied the discarded blue coat, and she stroked the fabric, "or they'd rather see him dead."
"What would a bunch of strangers have against my brother?"
"I don't think they're strangers," Minerva brushed her thumb along the cloak's stitched seams.
The cloak was crafted from a long lost silk dress and the coarse material of a militiaman's coat. Burlap patches affixed the holes, and stolen pockets lined the inner jacket.
The others cast nervous glances toward the horizon.
Ludwig straightened his back, and he stepped backward toward the truck.
Minerva ignored him and made way for the Dunecrawler.
Ludwig boarded the truck again; he saw Cheatsy and Roy sitting side by side. Ludwig knelt beside Roy, "we need to talk."
Roy snorted.
"What happened to Lapiston?" Ludwig said.
Roy flinched.
Ludwig sighed, and he drew a breath. "This is important. These guys want you dead."
Roy's muzzle scrunched.
"Ludwig, I don't remember what happened here," Roy said plainly.
"Oh yeah, I bet it's effortless to forget the impetus of some mass tragedy."
Roy removed his goggles, and his lips trembled. "Ludwig. I'm serious."
Ludwig's brow tightened. "So, what, you repressed it or something?"
"I'm not sure," Roy bit his bottom lip, "it twists me up inside when I try to think too hard about it."
Ludwig rubbed his temples and dropped beside Roy. Ludwig bumped his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He covered his eyes with his forearm.
"Having second thoughts about this whole thing?" Roy said.
"Partially," Ludwig sighed, "but there's some news about home that worries me."
Roy cocked his head.
"There's a bounty on our heads," Ludwig tapped his finger on the ground, "suddenly there are a million golden reasons why no one should help us."
Roy rubbed the back of his head.
"It's not us versus Amanita or Mario," Ludwig said, his voice dipped below Larry's snoring, "it's us against the world now, and your loser of a big brother is going to get you all killed."
"We're all losers," Roy shrugged.
Ludwig's head bowed.
"But you know what," Roy smirked, "nothing's killed us yet. For all of our screw ups, we've survived this long, and we know more for the next we're gonna screw up. We're the best losers out there."
Ludwig snorted, "that's simultaneously the most pessimistic and optimistic thing you've ever said."
"It's called being realistic," Roy tucked his hands behind his head, "we drew the short end of the stick just by being Koopas, but that doesn't mean we get to back down and stop fighting."
"That means you're done running from Lapiston?" Ludwig rolled his eyes.
Roy's smile faded.
Ludwig exhaled softly and patted Roy's back, "whatever you did, I've got your back if you've got mine. That's what brothers do, right?"
Roy nodded once.
Ludwig popped his knuckles. "Let's dig up some treasure."