Twelve
Once Judy had established that "death" wasn't coming for them in the next hour, she brought Fru Fru up to her apartment to talk.
"Tea?" asked Judy.
"Only if it's spiked," said the shrew.
When Judy started to obliged, Fru Fru held out her paw and said, "Never mind, just give me the bottle."
The decanter of scotch was shrew-sized. Judy kept it tucked away in her cabinet just for her friend, along with a small chintz armchair and side table, a rodent-sized set of drinking glasses, plates, bowls, and cutlery.
She watched Fru Fru drink. The shrew stuck to small sips, but it was the short time between those sips that was troubling. She kept looking around the place as if it was her first time there and she trusted nothing about it. Her eyes lingered on things like the shadows in the corner, the ceiling beams, the vent, the kitchen sink, even the hole in the drywall where Nick had gotten too enthusiastic trying to hang Christmas decorations.
"'Fru, I need you to talk to me," said Judy. "Is it your family? Are they safe?"
"Oh, yes, very safe," Fru Fru assured her, seeming to recall herself a bit. "Daddy was not happy when I insisted on coming back here. But I already felt horrible leaving like we did, and when I heard you had visited Eirwen and Charlie, I knew I had to come and warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
When the shrew looked down at her glass and didn't answer, Judy took a shot in the dark. "Does it have to do with the Natural Order?"
Fru Fru jolted in her seat. "You've heard of it?"
"Nick and I—" Judy stopped. Saying his name was like inviting back all the worry and pain she had managed to shove down upon seeing her friend. She swallowed and tried again. "We've been looking into it for a while now. Do you know something about it?"
"Not like you're probably thinking. I don't know any of their plans or who's involved. I just know that if they are gathering in Zootopia, then it is already too late."
Judy contemplated her friend. "You're not usually this pessimistic, Fru Fru. I understand they're a dangerous organization. But even if it takes time, I have faith the ZPD can track them all down."
"You don't understand. The Order isn't some petty gang. It's old. Older than Zootopia itself. With a philosophy that can ensnare even the best intentioned mammals. And its leader—"
"You know who the leader is?" The shrew shrank back in her seat, and Judy realized she had leaned in too close. She straightened up quickly. "Sorry. You were saying?"
Fru Fru didn't bother sipping her drink this time. She finished it off in one big gulp. "I-I don't know who it is. I only know what."
"You know what species they are?" Even that would help immensely.
Fru Fru nodded but didn't speak. Her gaze flicked again to the shadows, the ceiling, the vent.
"Fru Fru, please," said Judy, "I need to know."
"We don't like speaking of it. To name it is to call it to you, they say."
"Who says that?"
The shrew licked her lips. "You know how, back in the day, when prey parents used to use certain predator species to scare their kits into listening? I know, that kind of thing is frowned upon these days, but there's a reason why it worked so well. For certain mammals, the fear is ingrained. It's irrational, sure. But centuries of our ancestors hunting and hiding from each other is hard to shake. Sheep fear the wolf, antelope fear the lion, bunnies fear the fox—" Fru Fru shot Judy an apologetic look. "Most prey grow out of it by their early teens. But for us rodents, there's one predator that we always fear. And it never goes away, no matter how old we get, no matter how many generations pass."
"But I've never seen you act scared around anyone before," said Judy.
"That's because it doesn't live in Zootopia. It wasn't supposed to live anywhere anymore. We told ourselves they had all died out. That we were safe."
"What was it?"
Her friend beckoned her closer. Judy leaned in, close enough for Fru Fru to grip the edges of her ear as she whispered, "Snake."
She said it like she expected terror to immediately grip Judy. In truth, Judy couldn't remember what a snake looked like at first. They were long and scaly, weren't they? She could just recall an old black and white movie that her great gran-rabbi liked to watch that had a monster snake in it. It had clearly been a sock puppet stuck on the end of some mammal's tail.
"They're extinct, though," said Judy.
"No," said Fru Fru. "Not all of them. A snake slithers through this city. We rodents can sense it. Daddy thinks we're so attuned to it because we were their prey before anyone else. Other animals stood a chance of getting away, but when the cobra kings ruled, we lived at their mercy."
"Cobra kings?"
"Snakes, they say, that could grow longer than the tallest trees and were faster than the swiftest cheetah, with fangs filled with deadly poison. They moved in silence and could scale a tree just as easily as they could cut through grass. All animals feared them but rodents most of all. We would build elaborate underground tunnel systems to try and hide from them, but even that didn't always work."
"These kings can't be ruling anymore though," said Judy. "I've never even heard of them."
"The story goes that a group of mammals rose up, led by a brave and cunning beast. They slew the cobra kings and freed the land from their reign of terror. After that, time passed in peace. Eventually, cities like Zootopia were built. Animals moved on and forgot, but not the mice, or shrews, or rats, or voles, or any other rodent. We remembered. And the fear stayed with us.
"The Natural Order was what the cobra kings used to justify themselves," explained Fru Fru. "And they had a lot of followers who agreed with their 'might makes right' lifestyle. When Daddy heard there was a group growing in the underground, it only confirmed the unsettled feeling we had all been having for weeks. The cobra kings are back. They will rise again, and we rodents will be the first ones to suffer."
"Is that why all the mice have been running?" asked Judy. "Are they all at the same place as Mr. Big?"
"Some of them, but not all. Some have gone on to hide at their own secret places."
Judy nibbled on her lower lip as she took it all in. It answered some questions, but brought up a bunch more. A thought struck her. "What about a couple of young mice? They would have been alone. No parents. Have you seen or heard anything about them?"
Fru Fru shook her head. "I haven't heard about anyone like that, no."
So much for that.
"I'm so sorry for taking off like I did," said Fru Fru. "When Daddy called me he was so distressed, but I didn't think it was something like this. And then when he told me—I was panicked. My husband and kits would be the first the Order went after. All I could think about was getting my family away to someplace safe. It was only after we had left that I started thinking clearly again, and then Daddy kept telling me it was too risky to come back. He said you wouldn't believe me anyway."
"I believe you," said Judy, and watched the relief that broke out across her friend's face.
"Thank goodness. You'll come with me then, you and Nick? Our burrow is too small for you to stay in, but you could dig out your own easy enough close by, and it'll be safer than being in the city—"
"I can't go hide, Fru Fru. I have a duty to protect this city. If the danger is as bad as you say, I'lll need to warn everyone. And Nick…" Judy's voice cracked. "He went missing. Looking for someone in the Natural Order."
Fru Fru's tiny paws flew to her mouth. "Oh my gosh, Judy, I'm so sorry!"
Her open distress pricked Judy's own, and she had to blink back tears. "It'll be okay. I'm going to find him. I think, maybe, they want him as collateral for something…"
But her friend was shaking her head with such pity that Judy couldn't go on. "Snakes don't leave bodies, Judy."
"What do you mean? Even a poisonous snake would leave—" But then it hit her what the shrew was trying to say. She felt the blood drain from her face. "They wouldn't. That's—" Barbaric. Revolting.
"I don't think an ancient reptile that lives by the natural order of things can be counted on to act like a modern mammal," Fru Fru said softly.
Judy couldn't breathe. The room went fuzzy around the edges and she dropped her head into her paws, sucking in air.
Not Nick. Not her fox.
Little paws pressed against her head, trying to offer comfort. But there was no comfort to be had when all Judy could picture was an enormous scaly monster, opening its mouth wide to swallow Nick whole.
Her phone started to ring. It was with a dazed sort of detachment that Judy managed to answer. "Hello?"
"Hopps, I'm sorry for having to ask this of you right now when I know you've got other pressing matters, but I need you in Tundratown ASAP." Commander Stelmaria sounded as close to harried as Judy had ever heard her.
"What's happened, Commander?"
"Someone has gone and torn apart our main drainage system. Looks like they've set off some kind of small charges. They've completely collapsed the pipelines. With the Climate Wall still on the fritz like it is Tundratown has just become a level five flood zone. We're expecting half the main square to be under water in the next five hours. We're talking polar temperatures and dangerously sharp ice sheets. I need every officer I can get to help with emergency evacuations before that happens."
"Of course," said Judy. "I'll be right over."
"Head to the Downtown precinct. Chief Bogo is sending over a few others as well. You'll be going by chopper since so much of the roadways are already jammed or in dangerous conditions."
Judy promised she would leave immediately.
"What's going on?" asked Fru Fru as Judy rushed to grab her ZPD winterwear.
"I'm not sure," said Judy. "But I think the Natural Order is starting to make their move."
Snake. The leader of the Natural Order was a snake.
As far as Nick had been aware, most reptiles had gone the way of the birds centuries ago. Only a pawful of tortoises remained in Zootopia, and they were rare and aging creatures. Nick remembered reading an article once that said the last of them were expected to die out in the next fifty years. They were National Treasures. Some mammals even believed they were direct decedents of the Great Turtle itself. They certainly weren't going around organizing underground fighting rings and establishing secret bases outside the city.
But a snake? When Nick thought of snakes he pictured something like an oversized worm with scales. Something slow, weak, dim—possibly poisonous but fairly unimpressive-looking. At least that was how they had been depicted in his middle school history textbook under the chapter on extinct creatures. There had been no photographs of course, so it was just sketch drawings and bad computer recreations, none of which did justice to the creature looming over Nick now. Silos was sixteen feet of solid muscle thicker than an elephant's trunk. No paws, no ears. Just smooth, sleek scales from nose to tail, with a dark hood flaring out from his head like a natural cowl. The complete lack of any fur or limbs gave Nick the heebie jeebies. And the way the snake swayed gently back and forth like an upside-down pendulum made him feel woozy and strangely pinned to the spot, as if safety could only be maintained so long as he stayed perfectly still and kept eye contact with the predator in front of him—a sense Nick was pretty sure was both false and fatal.
He took a couple stumbling steps backwards, just to confirm that he still could. After another moment he managed to find his voice again too. "You really do have a taste for the dramatic, don't you?"
That lipless smile stretched sickeningly wide, and Nick remembered that in his old textbook there had been a section on how snakes could unhinge their jaw in order to consume food many times bigger than themselves. Because this had been in middle school, the explanation of what constituted "food" had been kept pretty vague, but the students could infer what wasn't being said, and there were those ghoulish enough to take delight in pointing out which of them could or couldn't be eaten.
As a fox, Nick had no doubt which category he fell into. "So is this the part where we fight to the death or…"
It would be a short fight since Nick could barely turn his head right now without tipping over. He didn't know why he was rushing certain death like this, besides the fact that facing down such a terrible unknown was nearly as painful as the fast drumbeat currently going on inside his skull.
Silos gave a hissing laugh that gave Nick chills. "I do not kill useful allies, Nicholas. Do not fear."
That this snake saw him as an ally was frankly horrifying. "You mentioned that before, me being useful to you. I gotta say, I don't see how. If you think I'll play assassin for you the way you got Tibor to, you can think again."
"Tibor…" Silos pondered the name for a second. "Ah. You refer to the hyena."
"You brainwashed him into killing for you, and then you had him murdered." Old anger made Nick forget his fear for a moment. "That rhino was sent by you, wasn't he?"
"Luther? Yes, he was sent by me. But I did not tell the hyena to kill those animals. He came up with that idea all on his own as a way to prove his worth. The fool. He was misrepresenting everything the Natural Order stands for. We had to correct it."
"By murdering him."
"By making it clear he was not one of us," said Silos. "The Natural Order isn't about subjugation or making others follow your beliefs. It's about freedom. It's about reclaiming the power within yourself that places like Zootopia would suppress."
"That's quite the company line," said Nick.
"If it sounds impressive it is because you feel the truth of it. Do you believe that Natural Order is something I invented? I no more created it than I built the animal kingdom. It has always been there. Since dawn first broke over the Great Turtle's back. It is part of our very being. It is what drives us forward, leading us onward to evolutionary perfection, if only we take the time to listen, to feel it in our gut, our bones, that tiny space in the corner of our minds that says all the rest of it—the social strictures forced upon us by the watchful eye of the ignorant flock—are all designed to keep us from unleashing our full potential and realizing our true selves. My ancestors were the ones who first grasped this concept and learned to master it. And now, it has fallen to me to carry the teachings on and recruit those I believe have the potential."
Like a certain thieving fox, perhaps? Nick wondered what Robin would have thought of this snake's spiel. The fox's sense of morals was warped, true, but Nick didn't believe he would've bought into this malarkey.
"And by recruiting, you mean luring in innocent kits to use as blackmail? You know most animals just stick to flyers."
"You refer to our newest member, Craven. He searched us out all on his own. As soon as he heard of the Order he was begging to join."
"He's just a kit who's been through a lot. He's not thinking clearly."
"On the contrary, he's thinking clearly enough to know which side he should be on."
"You need to let him go."
"But he came willingly. He wanted a chance to prove himself. Wouldn't you like the chance to prove yourself, Nicholas?" asked Silos. "To stand up and declare yourself worthy, and make others see it? You're smart, fast, strong. You have the power to show others if only you chose to."
"That all just sounds to me like an excuse for you to reestablish predator dominance," said Nick.
"Not at all. Prey have just as much ability. It's about being the best at what you are. The bunny you run with, for example. She has so much potential. She could achieve so much more if only she broke free from society's rules."
Hearing the snake talk about Judy made Nick's stomach turn. "She's doing just fine as she is," he said curtly.
"'Fine.'" Silos said it as if the word tasted disgusting on his forked tongue. "You don't even realize the mediocrity to which you are chained to. I will free you of this mindset. I will free all of Zootopia. It will be my last gift to a thankless animal kingdom, right after I have my revenge."
Nick did a double-take. "I'm sorry, what was that last bit?"
"My family used to rule as kings. Now I am the last. But I will take back our rightful place. I will reinstate the Natural Order on all animals. And I will destroy the ruler of Zootopia who's ancestors destroyed my line so utterly. In this, we shall be allies, Nicholas."
"Wait. Wait a minute. You can't just march into a city, kill its leader, and take over. That's not how things work anymore."
"Those are society's rules that are blinding you to possibility. You will learn in time."
"But the ZPD—"
"Will not be able to stand against us." Silos looked up at the opening in the ceiling. The sunlight shone down on his scaly back, turning the yellow to gold and giving the black an oily sheen. "The Natural Order has been there for years, unseen, growing, learning, preparing. Zootopia has already fallen. They just don't know it yet."
He looked down at Nick. "You will join our Order. And then you will stay with us until it is time to go."
"And if I say no?"
"That is your choice. But make sure you are confident in your abilities to back up such a choice, or brave enough to face the consequences of it."
Silos slipped around him, curving his body close enough that Nick could feel the slide of the snake's warm, scaly body against his back. He moved slowly, but Nick had already seen how whip-fast he could be. If Nick didn't agree, those fangs would be biting down faster than Nick could turn and fall over.
"Well? What is your choice, Nicholas Wilde?"
There was a time and a place to take a moral stand. As far as Nick was concerned, this wasn't one of them.
He forced a grin that he hoped didn't look as sick as he felt. "Got a pen?"
All things considered, it was quite painless to sign away his allegiance. The black-tusked warthog let Nick out of the temple and took hm to a smaller side building where he was given an old-fashioned fountain pen and directed to put his signature at the bottom of the same contract pledge that Craven had.
Nick supposed he should have felt more shame in signing it—death before dishonor and all that. But if scribbling his name onto some silly piece of paper kept him alive for another day in this crazy cult full of brainwashed animals, then he considered that an easy win; pride be damned. He sure as heck wouldn't lose sleep over it.
And if he managed to survive this whole ordeal long enough to face some actual legal ramifications, well then, a little jail time never hurt anyone. He might even try to convince Robin's hot-shot lawyer Will to represent him. Why not? If this nightmare had given Nick nothing else, it was a greater perspective on things. And Swift's band of merry mammals and their misadventures in Zootopia had just dropped to the bottom of Nick's list of Things I Give a Rat's Tail About.
After signing his name, the contract was whisked away and the warthog led Nick back through the jungle path to another crumbling building. This one was longer, with open sides and rows of pillars wrapped in vines. Most of the roof had collapsed. Big chunks of stone were still piled around outside. Inside, long wood tables and benches had been set out in a way that made Nick think medieval cafeteria. Three dozen or so animals congregated here, eating and drinking and talking. More than one card game was happening around the room, and there was a fight happening over in the corner between two weasels that no one was paying much attention to.
The warthog grunted and pointed to an empty spot on the bench. Nick took this to mean he was supposed to sit. He did, and a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread the size of his head was shoved in front of him.
Steam wafted off the top of the bowl. It had a thick consistency that coated the other bits and turned everything an orangey-brown color. It smelled spicy, with an undernote of something… Nick wanted to say "rotten" but that wasn't quite right; it didn't smell like food that had gone bad. If anything it smelled really fresh. Probably some stinky vegetable that only grew in the Wildlands.
Nick's stomach still wasn't feeling great, but he was so thirsty, and he didn't see the warthog returning anytime soon with a drink for him. A glance around revealed that a few other animals held wooden flagons. Nick very much doubted any of them contained water, nor did he know where they had gotten the flagons or if he'd be allowed to have one if he asked. The few animals who deigned to acknowledge his presence were either smirking maliciously at him or shooting him outright hostile glares, neither of which boded well for Nick's survival rate. Safer to just stick with the stew for now. At least it was mostly a liquid.
He took a tentative taste of it. Definitely spicy, with that strange smell coming out twice as strong as a flavor. He coughed and his stomach gave an unhappy gurgle.
A hush fell at the far end of the room as a part of the floor lifted away and Silos emerged. First his head, and then stripe after stripe of his long body. It reminded Nick of a magic trick he had seen at a kit's birthday party once. A bunny magician had pulled a length of knotted multicolored scarfs from out of his mouth. He had pulled and pulled, and still the scarves kept coming, longer than anything the magician could have conceivably fit inside him. Seeing Silos slither up out of the floor was like seeing a grotesque version of that magic trick. The snake could have wrapped itself around a bull elephant three times, easy.
Silos wound himself into a tall coil around his little escape tunnel. His tongue flicked out as he looked about the room. He spotted Nick and smiled.
Nick looked away and went back to his stew.
For the next half hour, Silos held court. Animals would approach, always bowed low or on all fours. Some gave him information about the happenings in Zootopia: What was covered on last night's ZNN or the latest top searches on Zoogle. Others came with gifts—diamonds and gems and jewelry of all types: necklaces and rings, watches and tiaras. Nick recognized brands such as Prey Jewelers, Snales, Angora, Bullgari, Giraffe Diamonds, and Hairy Winston. The bigger and gaudier the happier it made Silos.
"Is he a snake or a dragon?" Nick muttered, pushing the chunkier bits of stew around in his bowl. Upon reassessment, the funny taste had to be some kind of Wildland insect, not a vegetable. Even the worst cook couldn't make a vegetable this tough and chewy.
A rhino approached. Even before Nick saw the missing ear, he recognized Tibor's killer.
Silos rose higher, that spooky grin lighting his face. "Ah, Luther. You've returned with news. Tell me, how goes their little search?"
The rhino dropped a broken mess of metal and plastic down in front of the snake. Bits of wire were sticking out everywhere; a snapped propeller hung limply down the side. "Found their drone. Got as close as the tree line, two miles out on the south side."
"Impressive. For them. Does this mean we can expect more visitors soon?" Silos looked over at Nick as he said this, a vicious glee in his eyes, and Nick's stew-filled stomach churned in apprehension. What visitors were they talking about? And why did Silos think he should care? Nick looked at the twisted metal body of the destroyed drone and saw, half-covered by mud, the ZPD logo stamped on the side.
Judy.
Nick was out of his seat before he knew what he was doing. The black spots that danced in his vision could have been from his headache or from sheer panic. He had no idea what his plan was—to fight? Try to run? He had to warn her. He couldn't let Judy come here. He couldn't let her get within a mile of this monster's deadly fangs.
The rhino shook his head. "It looks like they've gone back."
"Such a shame." Silos was still smiling at Nick. "I fear your pack has already given up on you."
He said it to hurt. But all Nick felt was a bone-deep relief. Thank goodness. The farther away Judy was from this place, the better. She would be safe in the city.
Please just let her stay safe.
Silos had clearly been looking for different reaction. When he didn't get it, his expression shifted into something craftier. He flicked his tongue as Nick's empty bowl. "Enjoyed your food, did you?"
Nick had no qualms about being rude to a host who deserved it, but the snake was obviously looking for a fight and Nick would be stupid to give it to him.
"It was filling enough."
"Good! It's a specialty of ours here. We call it the winner's meal."
"Let me guess, because you feel like a winner after eating it?"
Snickering from all around him. Those smirks he had spotted earlier tripled in number.
Silos's grin widened; those rapier fangs flashed. "Because the winner isn't the one who goes in it."
Nick made it as far as the bushes outside before he couldn't hold back any longer. He collapsed onto his paws and knees, casting up everything and then some. He had never been so violently ill in his life. His stomach seized as if invisible paws were squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste, forcing out every last bit. And then when his stomach would finally start to settle, the knowledge of what he had just consumed would strike Nick again and send him doubling back over.
He wanted to scrub out his insides, his memory. He felt tainted, and betrayed in a way that cost him his very identity. Even as a con artist, he had always held on to the belief that he was still better than the animals who judged him. But now, Silos had managed to make Nick do something that surpassed every false accusation that had ever been thrown at him, and he'd done it all with just a bowl and a spoon.
Eventually, the pain in Nick's stomach overrided the sick horror of what he had done, and he collapsed back onto the dirt path. His throat burned and his middle felt like it had been stomped on by multiple elephants. His headache had ratcheted back up to a pulse-pounding throb. The green canopy above him was doing a slow spin that made him think of garden pinwheels and fair carousels, dizzying and lulling at the same time, and it was so tempting to close his eyes and just let go. Maybe he was fooling himself that there was still a chance to fix this. Maybe the best thing he could do was give up now before Silos decided to put him to use for his own nefarious purposes. Maybe. Maybe...
Something wet dripped onto his nose. Nick peeled open one eye to see a tin cup hovering above him. He turned his head a few painful inches to see Craven standing there. The kit's face was solemn, his eyes downcast as he held out the drink. "It's water with mint. It'll help."
Nick reached up and took the cup. Cool, sweet water filled his mouth, with just the faintest aftertaste of mint. Nick made himself drink slowly. Inside, the laughter at Nick's expense had finally died down, leaving only the murmur of quiet conversation and the rustle of wind though the dense canopy above.
When he was done, Craven offered his paw and Nick took it. The fox pulled him to his feet, then grabbed Nick's arm to steady him when the world spun and he stumbled.
"I'm supposed to bring you back to your room now." The statement was said in quiet apology.
Nick looked at him, but the kit refused to meet his eyes. So, now Silos was making Craven play the part of Nick's jailer? Nick had to give it to him, the snake knew how to strike fast and deep.
Nick barked out a humorless laugh and the kit flinched. "Sorry. I think the rock they hit me with must have scrambled my sense of humor a bit. Go on, lead the way then. I'll try not to pass out on you."
With Craven supporting him, they made their way back down the trail. Neither made any effort to talk. Craven seemed to be trying his hardest to pretend Nick wasn't there, and Nick was focused on keeping himself mostly upright and walking.
Back in his cell—or room, as Craven liked to call it—someone had cleaned up the floor and added a small, lumpy mattress and a stool with a basin of water and a cloth.
"Looks like I've been upgraded," said Nick.
Craven helped him down onto the mattress, then retrieved the bowl and cloth. Nick eyed him. "And what do you think you're doing with that?"
Craven gestured to Nick's head with the cloth. He still wouldn't look higher than Nick's chin. "Your wound needs to be cleaned. Infection sets in fast out here, and they don't believe in using medicine."
"I can take care of it myself, thanks."
"You can barely stay conscious."
Nick's temper flared. "You think offering a little first aid will make up for all the trouble you've caused?"
For the first time, Craven met Nick's eyes, his expression mulish. "You also signed the contract. I saw it."
"I didn't have much of a choice."
"Well neither did I."
Touché.
Nick sighed and turned his head. Craven crouched down next to him and began wiping at the blood encrusted fur. There was a lot of it.
"Just tell me one thing," said Nick. "Why the Order?"
He didn't think the kit would answer him. For a few minutes there was only silence as Craven rinsed the bloodied cloth then raised it again. When he spoke, his voice had that flat inflection that spoke of suppressed emotions Nick recognized from personal experience. "I was in that hospital room for days after getting separated from my family. I didn't know where they were; if they were dead or alive. I could hear the doctors and nurses whispering about how my sister and brothers were criminals. They wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain. The police who guarded me didn't want to hear it either. Even the nicer ones told me I was better off waiting to talk to a lawyer. I could tell they didn't believe my family was innocent. I could tell it was because we were foxes. It wasn't fair." He dabbed too hard at the cut and Nick hissed. Craven pulled back. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Nick wasn't sure what he was referring to. Nothing was okay.
Craven started in again, more gently. "Even when the court cleared us, there were still animals who gave us dirty looks on the street or told us that we should have gone to jail, even though we did our community service. Even though the truth had been in the papers and the news. They didn't care. They blamed us anyway. So when I heard about the fighting ring, I thought it would be a good way to get stronger, and maybe find some allies."
"You already had Robin and his crew watching out for all of you. Why befriend thugs?"
"Because…" Craven seemed to be struggling with how to explain. "Robin is his own mammal. And his friends work for him. I wanted protection I controlled. I wanted to be able to do something besides sit around and wait for help that might not come."
He wanted to not feel powerless. Nick understood the feeling all too well.
"I get that part," said Nick. "But still, this Natural Order is bad news. You have to know that, kit."
"It felt the same to me."
"Same as what?"
"Before I was trying to join so I'd have the ability to protect my family from Zootopia. Then I found out the truth, and I joined so I could protect them from the Order. At least this way, if the worst happens and the Order does take over Zootopia, I'll be in a position to better ensure my family's safety."
"And if this Order fails?"
Craven gave a half-shrug. "Then maybe I won't make it. But Marian and Reynard and Todd still will. That's all that matters."
Nick wanted to shake the kit and hug him at the same time. He realized why this kit got under his fur so badly now. It was because Craven was too much like himself.
He wondered if Craven was aware he was being used as bait to lure Robin. He didn't appear to. He had gone this far to keep his family safe from the Order's clutches.
"And you never thought at any point that maybe it would be smarter to go to someone else about this? Even to the ZPD?"
Craven's mouth twisted. "Since when has the ZPD ever cared about foxes?"
Something inside Nick snapped. He turned and snarled at the kit, making him jerk back. "Since me. Since Judy. Does saving your family's tails from a snowy mountaintop or rescuing you from a room full of killer fighters count for nothing? The ZPD has its flaws, yes; Zootopia has its problems. But there are good mammals out there too. And Robin's friend's might work for him, but they would all move the Earth for you if you needed them to. We all would. You think joining this disgusting Order is the only answer? Bull crap. I know what this is, and I understand how you feel. The urge to just sink into the bad reputation other animals give you is hard to resist when it already feels like you're in the mud. Trust me, been there, done that. But you can't make positive changes through negative actions. Nothing good will come from siding with these beasts. If you believe nothing else I tell you, believe that."
For a moment the kit looked like he would continue to argue. Then his face crumbled. "It doesn't matter, it's too late anyway. I'm here now. They won't let me leave."
"It's not." Nick took the kit by the arms. "Look at me. It's not too late. I will get you out of here and back to your family."
"But what if they hate me now? After everything I've put them through—"
"Marian has been inconsolable waiting to hear word about you, Reynard has been scouring the city for days, and Robin was ready to sell his soul away to get you back. Trust me, they're going to be so happy to see you you could tell them you were joining the Mystic Springs Oasis as a full time nudist and they still wouldn't care."
Craven gave a wet laugh.
Nick relaxed back. Exhaustion swept over him like a tide and he closed his eyes, willing it to recede.
"You should rest," said Craven.
Nick didn't know if it would be an option for much longer. Just finding the energy to open his eyes took a herculean effort. "I think you're right. Are you staying here or were you ordered to go somewhere else after seeing me back?"
"I was just told to bring you here."
"Think I can rely on you to stand guard for a little while?"
Craven gave a determined nod. "You can count on me."
Nick reached out and ruffled the fur between the fox's ears. The kit made a face and pulled back. Nick smiled. "All right. I leave it to you then." And after, Nick would come up with a way out of this. For both of them.