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Chapter 19. Bullet With Butterfly Wings

by Quincy

Jolice led Quincy to the third floor of the castle. "Here is your room, Quincy. I heard Lady Rhea will be staying right next to you; a wildcat named Kima and a stoat named Nallmian will be just across the hall."

"Sounds good to me," said Quincy, dropping his satchel on the bed, though he couldn't help feeling a tad nervous at the mention of the last two occupants. He'd never actually spent any quality time around a wildcat or a stoat before, or any of the species labeled as "vermin" for that matter. He kept telling himself that everything would be perfectly all right; certainly the Order of Armistice was prepared for any sort of mutiny or uprising, though with their reputation that didn't seem necessary. Indeed, even in the time it took for Jolice and Quincy to walk up to the third floor they had passed a rat, a weasel, and a ferret, all of whom nodded and gave amicable greetings as they passed.

"Where are you staying, Joli?" Quincy asked.

"Oh, probably in my mother's old room," Jolice replied. "We should get back downstairs, Quincy. Dinner should be served soon."

Sure enough, they had no sooner rounded the corner to the stairwell when a vixen appeared at the top of it.

"Marie," said Jolice politely as the two hares reached her.

"Jolice," said Marie. "Is this Quincy Tulep?"

"I am," Quincy answered.

"Follow me, Quincy. Dinner is served." Marie turned to head back down the stairs.

"Wait, what about Jolice?"

The vixen paused. "Oh."

"Oh!" Jolice said quickly. "I've got to have a meeting with Jeremy first and get situated. Don't worry about me, Quincy, I'll be around."

"All right," said Quincy, though the hare was somewhat crestfallen at this turn of events. Jolice had been his guide for the past week or so and forging ahead without her in a castle full of strangers felt a little intimidating.

The haremaid smiled and Quincy smiled wanly back before turning and following the vixen downstairs.

How could he have been so stupid?

The decrepit barn owl's voice sounded out like a death knell, and Quincy buried his face in his paws. Shock and outrage sounded all around him, but the young hare was quiet and still, too dumbfounded to add his voice to the chaotic cacophony of noise. How could he possibly have forgotten the vole?

It seemed the others were just now remembering him, too.

"There was a vole visiting Salamandastron, not long after I had handed in my notice. I was black-balled by everyone else, even most visitors. But this vole, he kept talking to me, asking me things. I had wondered why he was so interested, but he never answered," Quincy said slowly, though he was thinking aloud more than anything else.

He fell silent again as the Professor continued. There was no Order of Armistice, no organization of hope to reconcile vermin and woodlanders. He had left the warlike mountain to seek peace and had instead walked right back into hatred and distrust.

"Only one of you will be permitted to leave this castle, but not until the other nine are dead."

Quincy lifted his head from his paws, ears shooting up straight as ramrods. He was just opening his mouth to speak but Raine beat him to it. The Professor explained to them all the gruesome way in which nine of them were to die: at the paws of each other. That was preposterous; just because some old owl locked them in together didn't mean that they'd immediately start killing each other.

"But suppose we don't kill one another, eh? What if we just live and let live?"

Professor Falliss chuckled. "Oh, I think there will be intentional killing sooner or later, Mr. Tulep. For if you don't take it into your own paws, I will order the death of one of you at random. And remember, I have no bias as to how this turns out, so my choice could be any one of you. Well, there you have it. You know the game, and you know the rules. I wish you all the best of luck. Oh, and I will be watching, so make sure to make it entertaining. Good evening."

The owl hobbled slowly from the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Everyone jumped when a bowl flew at the door, falling just short and shattering on the stone floor. Saveaux gurgled something incomprehensible and looked for more things to throw, his large eyes bulging angrily, but Biara rushed to his side to calm him before he could hurl anything else.

To Quincy's surprise, the wildcat called Kima snorted. "This is some sort of joke, right? Some sick joke?" But a trace of fear flashed in her eyes.

"Are you deaf, cat?" the otter growled. "He means for us to kill one another."

"Why are you so angry, Flynn?" Nallmian smirked. "I thought you'd jump at the chance to have a go at someone like Kima."

"That's if I didn't get to you first!" Flynn retorted.

"Ooh!" The stoat clasped a paw to his mouth in feigned surprise. "Hey everyone, it looks as if I'm to be the first victim!"

"How dare you make light of this," said Rhea sternly.

"Well, seeing as my room is across the hall from a Salamandastron badger I might as well make light of it while I've still got the chance. I guess I don't have to worry much about the hare, at least."

"Stop it." Quincy's voice was quiet yet firm.

Nallmian chuckled. "Excuse me? I don't take orders from hares, least of all ones that are just peace-loving bumpkins living in an all too painfully unrealistic dreamland."

Quincy stood, and so did the stoat. Nallmian was taller, older, and most likely infinitely more experienced, but by now the hare's survival instincts had kicked in, the same instincts that had gotten him through his first and only battle unscathed, and he was not about to back down. He'd faced bigger specimens with his blade and had won, and weapons weren't even an issue here.

"I said stop it," he repeated, as the two of them stood leering at each other across the table, Nallmian's sharp eyes narrowed to slits, and Quincy's jaw clenched determinedly.

"Just what are you planning to do to me, hare?" the stoat breathed dangerously.

"I'm not going to do a thing," Quincy said, "and neither are you, and neither is anyone else."

"Anyone seen the pepper?"

Nine heads swiveled in Sootpaws's direction. The fox looked up at them all earnestly. "Well, where is it? This food is rather bland."

No one quite knew how to answer, though whether that was because they couldn't find suitable curses or because they genuinely didn't know where the pepper was is uncertain.

Unfortunately the fox's distraction had only diffused the situation momentarily. A few moments later it was Desmond and not Nallmian that rounded on Quincy.

"So you're proposing we just sit on our tails and let the professor decide the order in which we are doomed to die? I hardly believe we should let that lunatic decide anything!"

"Well, who does get to decide then?" Raine chimed in. "These are our lives at stake!"

"I'm not saying we shouldn't do anything," Quincy said. "All I'm saying is that we need to find a way out of this castle before we get so bleeding angry that we do end up killing each other."

"Great plan," Flynn smirked. "Though I think you're overlooking just one minor detail. Remember how the professor said we were locked in?"

Rhea stood up next to Quincy. "Well, we can still try, can't we? I mean, maybe there is some way out, but Falliss thinks we'll all be too busy killing each other to try and look for it."

"I'm sure he's thought of everything," said Nallmian. "He's too smart for that."

"Well...he's still deranged," Rhea said.

"He was smart enough to get us all here without suspecting anything, wasn't he?" added Raine.

"He's no better than a conniving vermin," Flynn growled.

"And we're back to this now, are we?" Nallmian laughed mirthlessly. Biara made a soft huffing noise and shot a glare at Flynn.

The conversation was quickly escalating into an argument once more, but at that moment Quincy was no longer listening. A group of servants had just entered the room to clear some dishes. As they filed out, Quincy noticed one of them was a haremaid that looked awfully familiar...

"Excuse me," he said, but no one heard him above the sounds of their own quarreling.

Pushing his chair back, Quincy slipped out of the dining hall. He looked around the deserted entrance hall and noticed a pair of long ears whipping out of sight around the corner to his right.

"Jolice! Joli, wait!"

Quincy gave chase, charging down the stairs after her, but she had already disappeared into the basement. Quincy felt the temperature drop with each step. It wasn't as cold as it was outside, certainly, though it was a good deal colder and gloomier than the rest of the castle. The basement also seemed fairly stark in comparison to the ornate upper floors, though the hare supposed this was where most of the food supplies were stored, as was the case in the lower floors of Salamandastron. He peered into the open door of the kitchen as he passed, but caught no sight of Jolice.

Walking past the kitchen, Quincy wandered to the adjacent room, pushing the heavy door open and peering in. It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim light, and he saw from the rows upon rows of barrels that it must be the cellar.

"Joli?"

He strode toward a dark silhouette in the middle of the room. The haremaid loomed out of the darkness, standing with her back to Quincy and staring intently at the labels on the barrels before her. Stopping just short of her, he put a tentative paw on her shoulder.

Jolice slowly turned, and Quincy took a step back in surprise at the utterly deadpan look in her eyes. "Hello," she said in an emotionless tone.

"Joli?" he said again. "What's happened to you?"

"Professor Falliss requires a nightcap," she intoned.

"Would you stop it, Joli? Why are you acting like one of those servant nutters? It's not funny."

"I must bring the Professor his nightcap..."

Jolice grasped a bottle and tried to walk past Quincy, but the hare grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and spun her around to face him, his face mere inches from hers.

"What is this?" he snarled, hot anger and frustration masking his normally calm features. "Who did this to you? Was it Jeremy? Did he make you act like this?"

A solitary tear leaked unbidden from Quincy's eye and rolled down his cheek. The haremaid's countenance was in stark contrast; completely nonplussed, she blinked slowly and said, "My duty was carried out successfully. You are here now. It was the will of the Professor. I live to do his will."

"Your what? Your duty? It was your duty to bring me here?"

"Please let me go, Quincy Tulep, or I will have to summon help."

There was no trace of pleading in the haremaid's voice and her expression never altered a flicker.

"I get it," he said, pushing her away disdainfully. "This is some sort of disgusting joke. You and Rockleap came up with this one, no doubt. I bet you knew all about what that vole was doing and knew I'd never take the invitation without some persuading. Well ha ha, I'm jolly well dying of laughter."

Jolice stumbled backward but swiftly regained her composure. She stared at Quincy for a few moments. "Good night, Quincy Tulep. Sleep well."

Pivoting slowly on the spot, Jolice walked to the door.

"Go on then!" Quincy shouted, letting all the pent up frustration and despair he'd sustained during dinner finally course through him. "Leave me alone in this fates forsaken castle, walk away from me like every beast at Salamandastron. You're just as pathetically predictable as the lot of them!"

Jolice disappeared through the doorway. Quincy angrily swept his paw across a row of bottles on the nearest shelf, sending them tumbling to the floor where they shattered, sending dark wine and glass shards everywhere. The hare sank into a crouch, burying his face in his paws and sobbing brokenly.

"Trapped," he whimpered. "Trapped like a bloody rat."

"Is someone there?"

Quincy started at the unfamiliar voice, standing upright and quickly scrubbing at his eyes. He picked his way carefully through the aftermath of his rage, silently cursing himself for losing his temper. Of all the places in the land to lose one's composure, this was certainly the worst.

The hare emerged from the cellar and was rather surprised to see the fox from dinner standing there, looking at him curiously.

"Oh, I see you've had as much luck with drinks as I have tonight," he said.

"What?" Quincy followed the fox's pointing paw and saw that a good deal of wine had splashed on his footpaws, the crimson speckles standing out clearly against his snowy winter coat. "Oh. Yes, I suppose so. Wait, what are you doing down here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, I could!" sniffed the fox, picking absently at his teeth with a greasy claw. "I was just finished with me dinner and thought I'd come down here and kip for a bit. Then I heard you and I hoped maybe I'd have some company. Er, I mean, I thought someone might be staying down here too!"

"In the basement? Why would Professor Falliss have anyone stay down here? Well, besides the fact he's completely off his bally rocker."

The fox looked rather venomous. "I didn't choose it! It's just..." he trailed off. "Nah, it's stupid. 'Sides, I don't feel like sharing it with the likes of you. I mean, I did choose it. I mean, er, it's the best room in the place. I mean, er, um..."

The fox was clearly looking for an adequate excuse, even though this display was quite possibly the worst attempt at lying that Quincy had ever seen. A wave of sympathy swept over the hare. For some reason, for all the fox's blustering standoffishness, the hare didn't feel all that threatened by him, as he had with Nallmian. One thing was clear: the fox had been forced to stay down in this dank, dismal place against his will. He had been outcast.

"You know what, my dear fox?" Quincy said, cutting across the fox's murmurs. "I'll bet it's the finest room in the entire castle. I'm positively dying to see it. In the meantime, you can tell me just how you came about acquiring it."

The fox grinned, obviously pleased with his own cunning (or lack thereof). "Right! Er, the room! I'll take you there..."

Quincy followed the fox, smiling inwardly. He shoved Jolice from his mind for now. He would deal with all of that later. Perhaps it would be possible to find another friend in this dark place.