After a day of ice cream and leisure, the kits return home to some rather heavy news.

"Tata's in jail?" Charles bursts out. "But this doesn't make sense! Auntie Anne couldn't… She wouldn't…" He starts to hyperventilate.

Junior puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. I mean, she works the night shift, right? Maybe someone saw her passing by and got the wrong idea."

"She won't be gone for long," his father adds. "There's no evidence to convict her for anything, and she has an alibi for last night. She'll be out before you know it!" His anxiety quelled for the moment, Charles gives a tiny smile. "Oh, by the way, your aunt asked me to bring your things over." He hands him his backpack, stuffed to the brim with his most essential possessions.

Charles, relieved, slings the bag over his shoulder. "Merci, Mr. Pussycat. It's been a long day, so I'd like to take a bath, if you don't mind."

Inside the bathroom, Charles opens the bag and sifts through its contents. Amidst the school books and spare clothes are small, cylindrical containers with prescription labels. Antidepressants, anti-psychotics, anxiety relief, and so on. More medications than any child his age should be taking. More than his aunt can afford. His secret burden, his greatest shame.

I should tell Sylvester.

He removes the clothes and zips the bag up.

No, I can't let him know. If he finds out how broken I am…

His mind flashes back to the incident at Cheese E. Sneezer's, when he set off his spray and drove the entire establishment into chaos.

I need to tell him, for his sake.


Under the light of the antique table lamp, Wile sits on the bed, reading through his Ancient Egypt reference in search of the elusive hound deity. Anubis, Wepwawet, and Duamutef are here in Acme City, which narrows the list down to a mere two: Sed and Anput.

Here he runs into some problems. Sed had little to say about himself, as his role and existence were later absorbed by Wepwawet, implying they might be one and the same. Anput also suffers from a lack of information, but if she ever existed, Anubis–her purported consort and masculine counterpart–has not cared enough to mention her.

He tosses the book aside in frustration. I'm wasting too much time on this. And yet, he cannot separate his thoughts from the subject entirely. Maybe if he calls Duane, he can get a proper answer out of him.

Wile checks his phone. 11:55. At this time, Ralph is out drinking with friends, and Pepé is nowhere in sight. The apartment is still and quiet, an atmosphere to which he is accustomed. Alone with his thoughts, he realizes how, for the first time in his life, he cannot stand the silence. He speed-dials the number for Lycopolis, and his heart jolts when he hears someone on the line.

"Hey, Wile, didn't think I'd catch you calling this late," Wyatt's voice, muted from fatigue, greets him. "So what's on your mind?"

Unsure where to start, he answers, "A lot of things, I guess. I was expecting Duane to answer. Didn't think you took calls, Wyatt."

"Well, you're not wrong. I'm not exactly the most sociable person."

This piques the coyote's interest. "But you always appear so…"

"Confident? Outgoing? Boisterous, even? I get that a lot. I can pull it off for show, but it gets exhausting after a while. Hell, if Duane wasn't around to drag me out every now and then, I would have stayed home in Asyut the night of the Fête."

"Guess me and Ralph could count us as lucky, having you here." They both have a good chuckle.

A wistful tone in his voice, he goes on. "During the Ancient Times, I was considered part of the Pesedjet under the name of Shu. Leading and guiding the gods of Iunu was a great undertaking, even for a divine guardian of the Pharaoh, and the stress got to me. Then Set offered to stand in my place, and the rest is history."

Wile's ears stand up. He doesn't seriously mean that Set. God of chaos, storms, and deserts, murderer of Osiris and nemesis of Horus. "It sounds like you know him quite well. But how did you know about him? You two don't seem to have any connection, based on what I read."

Wyatt does not answer right away. The faint noises coming from the phone's speaker give the impression of someone deep in thought, or–more likely–in deep anguish. "I know you're a stubborn one, so I'll tell it to you straight. Set and I have a history, one that's not written in any history book or scroll. We were lovers once, and we loved like no other did. We both also served under Amun-Re, and were among the early pharaohs' most cherished companions. But when our land was invaded by foreign enemies, people began to blame Set for bringing them misfortune. Once an outsider, always an outsider, so their logic went. Then the Colony turned on him, with Heru and the Pesedjet leading the mob. I tried to escort Set out of Kemet safely, but then Anpu found him, and…"

The story trails off into a sorrowful silence. Breaking through the quiet, Wile asks, "This is going to sound strange, but what kind of creature was Set?"

With slow, deliberate phrasing, he answers, "The most beautiful dog I've ever seen."


Midnight in the Acme City Police Station, trapped in a holding cell, Anne anxiously awaits her fate. Across from her, separated by the barred entrance, Deputy Sheepdog sits vigilant. She knows exactly why she's here, but she's not going to stay for long. After all, the only evidence they have is the testimony of a gullible mongrel, and–

"We found skunk hairs in the alley where Mr. Coyote claimed he found you," he says bluntly. "They matched the ones we found near Ms. Silk's body."

Outraged, she blurts out, "What? It's surely a coincidence. Skunks are common in this city, non? Any one of them could have done it!"

"Acme City has about a dozen skunks as registered citizens, and a small fraction of those are non-striped species. Most of them are situated in the Northeast, and many of the recent murders and disappearances were set in or close to the Northwest. Unless they decide to risk taking public transport, it's unlikely they could have gone to the crime scene, the Underground, and back without being spotted. As you were."

"By who? A coyote who panics at the sight of blood? What a stupid and pitiful creature!"

The fur veiling his eyes hide his curious expression. "Not just him. We have an anonymous witness who found you crossing Northwest Square. Said you were singing in French. More importantly, we acquired records of your organ sales from your buyers."

Backed into a corner, she responds calmly, "'Alouette'. That was the song. My favorite song as a child. A fitting one, too, for Madame Sophia."

"So you confess to the crime?"

She cracks a smile. "Does it look like I have any choice? Cop or not, I know when I am bested. But I can't help but ask: how did you get a hold of those records?"


Days earlier, at the station…

Gathered around the deputy's desk were Herman Blakesley the mortician and Daffy Duck the private investigator. Duck side-eyed Blakesley with suspicion as Sam explained the objective.

"I brought you here because you two have the most experience with the Underground. I need one of you to travel down there and come back with information on the vendors and their purchases." He looked at Blakesley. "I suspect you have an idea of your own, Herman?"

A gleeful grin slashed across his face, Herman replied, "But of course, Deputy Sam." He unpocketed a glass vial and handed it to the drake. "If you can hold onto this, please." Duck reluctantly did so. Then the wolf dragged a claw across his left wrist and let the black blood flow and drip into the vial. Once filled and covered in his ichor, he took a cork from his pocket and sealed it tight. "One order of Tears of Isis, free to go."

Duck, trembling slightly but attempting to put on a brave front, wiped the vial clean with a handkerchief and hid it in his trench coat. "With an offer as tempting as this, one of them's bound to crack. And I know just the one to do so."


Herman's plan wasn't the most appealing, but it proved the most effective. Dr. Viper, a quack doctor who sold the Tears at extortionate prices, was, as Daffy predicted, the first to fall for the bribe. He outed Anne immediately and revealed his inventory and sales records from every last buyer and seller that dealt business with him.

Needless to say, Sam was impressed.

"That damn snake," Anne hisses. "Fine, I accept my fate. I'll tell you everything I know. Just promise that Charles will be safe."

"No need to worry. We're already making arrangements. A relative volunteered to be his new legal guardian, but wishes to see you first." He calls into his comm, "Bring him in when he's ready."

Sam steps out to allow the visitor and her some privacy. She quickly realizes the meaning of his words when a familiar face approaches her cell. "Henri?"

"Henrietta," he replies in turn. "I've come to pay my debt. Charles will be under my care in due time. But first…" From his shoulder bag, he takes out a worn leather journal with a damaged lock. "…tell me about the pages you tore out."

Her brows shift in confusion. "Pages? What pages? I'll confess that I broke the lock to access your journal, but I never removed anything."

"Then who did?"

"I cannot say for sure, but I can tell you one thing. Shortly after you disappeared, a grey hare arrived at my door. He told me you worked for him once, and went to your house directly when you weren't at the lab."

"Bugs Bunny."

"Oui, him. He gave me your journal, calling it your most valued possession. He then lent me his business card and left. Of course, ma curiosité got the best of me, and I had to see what you wrote in your final days. But as I was flipping through it, I noticed there were pages missing."

"I see…" His eyes turn downward, barely hiding the burning anger inside. "That's all I need for now. Adieu, ma sœur." He turns and walks away, leaving his twin sister's cries behind him.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Yo, back again with a new chapter of W&C! I am on a ROLL! Maybe too much of a roll, cus I'm struggling a bit with plot stuff again, lol.

I was tempted to expand this to make it a similar length to the last few chapters, but I decided not to. I felt like if I were to add more, it would end up going in too many tangents, so I just cut it off at a point that seemed most appropriate. End of a chapter, end of a day, as per my internal logic at the time. Consider this a light appetizer that goes before the main course.

While I don't often bring up my personal life into these ANs, I do want to bring up one small fact. Recently I started going to the library for the first time in years, and I'm enjoying it quite a bit. Not only do I get to read for free, but I can also access various resources for research and write in relative peace. I do seem to have overestimated my reading ability, though, as I keep checking out more books than I can finish in the allotted time. I also can't find every book I want to read in my usual library, so I have to find them elsewhere. But the pros outweigh the cons overall, so I might make a habit out of it in the future.

Anywho, I'm gonna take a short break before continuing work on this. (I'm not even halfway through August and I'm already feeling the effects of burnout.) As usual, I hope you're enjoying the story so far and I'll see you later. :)