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Chapter 24. Brink of Disaster
by Soriss
They finally stopped running when their footpaws burned and Kriley's proudly straight spine dipped into an undignified slouch.
Soriss collapsed against a stone wall. He could have just topped any skipper of otters worth his salt in a hotroot soup-slurping contest, the way his chest was burning. Sal slid down beside him, her panting nearly overshadowing his.
The monitor flickered his tongue at her. "Let'sss never run again, sshall we?"
She couldn't answer, just bobbed her head and cradled it in her paws.
Soriss closed his eyes. He tried to listen to what the remarkably-not-out-of-breath Wazzock was saying to Kriley and Jibfang, but he could only think of a single warm, oily biscuit, seasoned with grasshopper wings and fresh black pepper, floating in a sea of comfortable darkness.
Come to the light, the biscuit said, in a crumb-filled voice. Follow me. Just let go...
"Soriss! Soriss, wake up!"
Soriss grumbled and swatted lazily at the offender. Whoever was shaking him and trying to roll him over sounded like Sal -- but that was much less delicious than the biscuit. He tried to return to the floaty sea of warmth and insect-bread.
She finally cuffed him across the mug. "Wake up, ya big oaf! Th' Captain says it's important-like!"
He grudgingly lifted his head from his chest and scanned the area. Wazzock and the crew were discussing something in excited tones, and now that the good dream was gone anyway, Soriss didn't want to miss out. He rolled over onto his protrusion of a stomach, and after a few back-and-forth wobbles, he was unsteadily on his feet.
"Coming?" he asked Sal.
She shook her head, hugging herself. "'S too cold away from th' fire." The rat ducked her head; Soriss heard a grin in her next words. "'Sides, I want t' jist watch. Th' Captain, I mean. An' there's th' other one too, with th' glasses." She wriggled her whiskers and gave him a look. "Don't ya dare tell 'em!"
"I...won't?" He had no idea what she meant. Femalesss. "Be back ssoon."
Waddling to the cluster of crewbeasts, he slipped between Jibfang and the ferret messenger they'd picked up from the Bilge, who still had sizable lumps on the back and front of his head where he'd been hit with a bucket and a mop, respectively.
"It's the most logical thing to do at this juncture," Wazzock was saying. He pointed at the ferret. "Mossbeard here says he can get us into the mansion..."
Soriss moved his eyes left. The ferret most certainly did not have a beard, nor was there anything moss-like about him except for the color of his uniform. A false name? But then the monitor thought of moss again, and the idea of a moist moss salad with hazelnut slices, and he started drooling.
"...and if we can exchange pleasantries and then team up with Miss Gloria...I mean, Captain Rusty, I daresay it would be a beneficial arrangement. Ahh! Soriss, mate, come to join us?"
Twitching with ill-concealed surprise, Soriss nodded at Wazzock. "Yesss, ssir."
"Well, good. You're part of the crew too, daresay. A valuable member. And a right smashing job in your assignment. Got right into the very infrastructure of the Southern Army operations. From what Miss Sal told me, you've been a right courageous beastie."
Jibfang gave Soriss a not-so-friendly elbow in the ribs. "Gonna get us some food, lizard?"
"Aye! That would be most excellent!" Holding his tricorn against his head, Wazzock came over to clap Soriss on the shoulder. "I'll send a few with you, just to see what you can obtain from these sundry abandoned dwellings. There should be plenty of food -- maybe even a spot of fine drink. Like tea or strawberry fizz..." He paused, then added, "...or grog." This raised a cheer from the crew. The rat captain's eyes glazed over as he smiled beatifically. "Ahhh, what I wouldn't give for a few crisp crusts and a good honey to dip 'em in."
Get food; that was simple enough. Soriss shrugged away from all the physical contact, bowing a little. "Any requesstsss?"
Chaos ensued:
"Grog an' fish!"
"Sumfin' wot 'as carrots! Ah miss carrots!"
"Biscuits! Right quick!"
"Pie! Pie! Pie!"
He skittered away, not waiting for Jibfang, Sunyl, and Sasha the wildcat to follow him. Rough paws clutched at his arm, and he glanced down to see Sal.
"Can I come with ya? Iffen they start askin' me things, I'd be of a mind t' run straight into th' nearest wall!"
Still confused, but glad to have Sal's familiarity along, Soriss nodded. They progressed cautiously back the way they'd come, with Jibfang and Sasha providing protection on either side of the little party and outside of any house they entered. Sunyl found a house with sufficient bounty to take back, and Sasha went with her, so soon the party was down to three.
Soriss's blood felt colder than usual as they approached the next house -- the windows were chipped or completely missing, the door listed on its hinges, and the whole place had an air of death around it. The monitor was sure it wasn't the fault of the fires.
He kept close to Sal as they crept up to the door. Jibfang nudged it open, glanced around inside, and nodded. "Arright. Yer good. I'll be out here if'n ye need me."
Soriss gulped. He felt Sal's paws clutch his elbow tighter as together they shuffled in. Sal let out a squeak. "Ouch!"
"What'sss wronggggahhh!"
Sal had jumped onto one of his footclaws with all her weight, whimpering. "There's glass in m' footpaw!"
Soriss looked down. What little moonlight there was caught the colors of a thousand colorful pieces of glass, scattered like a tiny vicious rainbow across the floor. Liquid oozed in the cracks between them. The lizard's heart skipped as he saw the dark figure in the shadows ahead of them, and he pushed Sal behind him.
"Sstay here," he said. Squaring his shoulders, he approached what he now saw was a bed.
The figure sprawled across the bed did not move; still, Soriss's whole body was prepared to whirl and run. He reached out a shaking claw and poked the creature on the shoulder.
It slithered into a furry heap at the foot of the bed. Soriss jumped, the breath startled out of his lungs; then, he saw the creature's face in the moonlight.
----
Jibfang seemed excited about the prospect of Nemik's death -- he even agreed to carry the stoat's dead body back while Soriss and Sal soberly carried armfuls of plundered food. The monitor tried to distract himself by planning how he would make the meal with only his knives (which he would need to retrieve from Kriley) and a fire.
His mind kept wandering to the corpse in Jibfang's paws, however. Why was Nemik dead? There was no mark on him -- nobeast had stabbed him or broken his neck. It was probably poison. He sniffed at the food in his arms, but his well-trained nostrils detected no hint of ill will.
At leasst one good thing came out of that sstinking poisson-tesster'sss job, he thought. Then, with a wry smile: The Emperor would be sso proud.
Wazzock took the news with a glint of sadness in his beady eyes. "Well, chaps -- and chappesses, it appears that Mister Allan has left our complement to chat with the Dark Lord Vulpuz," he said, removing his hat and doing a half-bow towards Sunyl and Sal. "But, as we are in a war, and we can't do without a foundation of leadership, I suppose the time has come to appoint a new first mate." He swept the gathered creatures with a flourish of one paw. "I aim to choose somebeast who will serve me loyally. Mister Allan, I believe, was as loyal a beast that I ever would run into in this old Imperium. Steady chap, not afraid to say what was on his mind -- though admittedly a little grim about the whiskers at times. Anyway. I want a loyal crewbeast, a stalwart chap who isn't afraid to stick his neck out for his crew, but who knows when to retreat. He's got to have brains, agility of the mind, you see. Leadership skills, a bit of fight in him...mmm, what else. I...want somebeast who...has a different viewpoint than my soggy one."
Jibfang was standing a little taller as the captain surveyed the potential candidates. Soriss glanced around at the others. Most seemed disinterested -- probably certain that they were not getting the promotion. But where was Kriley?
Soriss spotted the rat, whose head was completely immersed in what appeared to be a bucket of water. The monitor rolled his eyes. Doessn't know what'sss coming for him.
"Where's Kriley? I know I saw him about just lately. Ah well, I know that he is a fantastic bosun, and I would hate to jar anybeast from their disposition. In that case, I choose...Soriss."
Eager to start the cooking he was inevitably assigned, the monitor turned and saluted. "Yesss, capta -- what?"
Every crew member was staring at him, many with jaws slack. Soriss's claws went numb. "S-s-s-ssir?" he managed to gasp out.
"Indeed! Congratulations, my fine lizard friend, you are now the first mate of the Stormchaser, and in charge of her fine crew when I am otherwise occupied." Wazzock was positively beaming.
Three long, slow blinks later, Soriss sat down hard in the mud. The malevolent whispers began immediately.
Wazzock knelt beside him. "You can handle this, right?"
For the first time in his life, Soriss said what he knew someone did not want to hear. "No, ssir."
"Excellent!" The rat jumped to his footpaws. "That's what I wanted to hear. Means I've chosen well, see."
He left Soriss sitting in the soggy, cruel slush and waved for the Stormchaser's crew to follow him. "Let's go find Captain Rusty!"
Soriss stifled a sob. This would kill him. No more cooking? Ordering others around? Taking charge? He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped it was a bad dream. A nightmare. To top it all off, Wazzock trusted him. Expected things of him.
The monitor shuddered, feeling eyes on him. He looked up to see Kriley standing alone, paws loose at his side, glasses askew, and water still dripping from his muzzle.
Soriss didn't wait to hear what the rat had to say to him. He gathered himself up and stumbled after the crew, which was trailing Mossbeard inland.
"Wait for me! Beetlesss! Waaaait!"