Everything had changed and nothing had.

It was the differences almost too subtle to notice that mattered, though. Judy was still walking through the ruins of Quimichpatlan Barony, Nick still at her side. It was almost the same as it had been. But he was closer to her now than he had been before, and sometimes his tail brushed up against her waist. It was nice.

That seemed like a horribly inadequate way of saying it, almost as though being next to the mammal she loved—and who loved her back—was no more than a sunny day or a tasty pastry. But it was nice, and if Judy didn't have the words to express it any better it'd have to do. Seeing the affection in his eyes when he looked over at her made her heart melt and wish they hadn't had to press on. It hadn't been easy to break that kiss, and the thought of what could have happened next seemed to do funny things to all the blood in her body.

Then again, neither of them was in any shape to do anything but walk. No matter how much Nick's eyes sparkled, their lids drooped more than usual and there was a weariness to the very way in which he moved. Saving her life had clearly taken much more out of him than either the bit of alchemy he had performed in their cell or during their sparring match, and she didn't know how much longer he could last before he'd have to rest again.

The thought of resting brought with it the wonderful image of burying her fingers into the magnificent fluff of Nick's tail and she pushed it aside, her ears burning. Judy might need to rest herself sooner rather than later, though; her entire body still ached, except for her new arm and paw.

It was with that paw that she caught Nick's and gave it a gentle squeeze. The feeling that it wasn't quite right had receded somewhat, but Judy didn't know if it'd ever completely go away. Sometimes it felt as if it wasn't a part of her, and sometimes it did. Grasping Nick's paw, her new pads made it feel almost as though she was wearing a glove, the sensation somewhat dulled.

He squeezed back. "New arm still doing alright, Carrots?" he asked lightly.

There was the familiar teasing tone to his voice, but with something deeper to it. No matter how he had phrased the question, Judy knew his concern was genuine. "It's the only part of me that doesn't hurt," she said, and Nick nodded.

They walked in silence a while longer, but it was companionable rather than awkward. There was still plenty that they had to discuss, but for the moment it was enough to simply have each other as they continued through the ruins. The twin lights of Nick's lantern remained steady, and here and there the ghostly light of ancient and failing alchemical torches stood out against the darkness. There was a certain sameness to the tunnels, so Judy had no idea how much distance Nick had covered while carrying her in her venom-induced haze, but she got the feeling they were proceeding far off the path treasure hunters followed. Thick layers of dust on the tiled floors absorbed the sounds of their footsteps, and thick cobwebs hanging from the ceiling brushed unpleasantly against the tips of her ears until she let them droop down.

As they were coming to a junction point, Judy heard a low grumbling sound that instantly set her ears up and had her heart pounding as she prepared to deal with whatever had made the noise, a sense of calm focus washing over her as she let go of Nick's paw and drew her sword.

And then she realized it had been Nick's stomach.

"Sounds like we need to stop," Nick said, a slow smile spreading across his face; he had obviously seen her reaction.

"It does," Judy agreed, and she poked at his stomach playfully.

Nick yelped and brushed her fingers aside. "Trust me, you don't want to get between a fox and his food," he said, still smiling.

While Nick started rummaging through his pack, Judy sheathed her sword carefully, treating it with the respect it deserved as her only defense. Nick had apparently been more concerned with saving her life than her weapons and her spear was probably still on the floor of the chamber the Ehecatls had been in. As she was taking her paw away from the hilt, a question suddenly struck her. "Am I going to have to eat the same kinds of food you do?" she asked.

He had said that he had copied some of his own organs over into her—which seemed to be a bigger change than her arm even if she hadn't noticed any difference yet—and it occurred to her that it might mean something for her diet. Nick seemed to consider the question thoughtfully for a moment. "You shouldn't need to eat fish if you don't want to," he said at last, answering the unspoken question hidden in the one she had actually asked, "Foxes can eat just about anything."

His usual smirk widened into a grin as he placed one paw, fingers tented, against his chest. "The gods made us perfect like that."

Judy laughed, and he offered her the food he had pulled from his bag. There were indeed strips of dried fish, but he also had dried berries, nuts, and some rather crumbly looking hardtack with the seal of the City Guard stamped into it. Judy took a pawful of nuts and berries, and after a moment's hesitation grabbed one of the fish strips. Nick didn't say anything, just cocking his eyebrow, and watched as she sniffed it. It smelled, unsurprisingly, rather fishy, and Judy took a hesitant nibble.

She gagged at the taste, her face wrinkling in disgust; it seemed that whatever other changes might have happened to her body her sense of taste was unchanged. She gave the piece of fish back to Nick, grabbing his canteen and taking a long swig of water to get the harsh and oily taste out of her mouth. "So I'm guessing you didn't like it," Nick said, completely deadpan.

Judy didn't want to say she found it disgusting and couldn't imagine how anyone could actually enjoy fish, since that seemed more than a little rude, so she settled on, "I guess I don't like fish."

Thankfully, her taste for nuts and berries remained unchanged, and the sweetness of the dried berries was just the same as ever. Nick's appetite seemed to be enormous, and Judy idly wondered if alchemy worked just as well as exercise; it'd certainly explain how slim he was. When at last he had finished, Nick stood, offering a paw to help her stand. "No rest for the wicked," he said, smiling slightly, and Judy used him to pull herself upright.

"There's something we need to talk about," she said, and it was remarkable how Nick reacted.

The slight smile didn't leave his face, and Judy would be hard-pressed to say that anything was different about him. But through his paw she could have sworn she felt him stiffen for an instant even if his expression didn't change. "Ah," he said lightly, "It's not too late for you to change your mind about arresting me, you know."

There was a carelessness to the words that Judy refused to believe was true. He had hidden his thoughts well, and Judy doubted anyone else would have spotted what she did. But there was a sense of despair that had come into him, a sort of pessimistic doubt that she'd actually stay with him if she knew more about him. "It is, actually," Judy replied, and she put her other paw against his, "I love you, Nick."

Before he had a chance to react, Judy let go of his paw and pulled herself close to him, squeezing him into a hug. He stiffened again, for a moment, and then he was hugging her back. "Then it sounds like I'm stuck with you," he said, his voice slightly thicker than normal.

"Nick..." she said, cuddling her head against his chest, just below the hollow formed by his neck and the underside of his muzzle, "I know you're a good mammal."

He bent a little until his muzzle was in the space between her ears, and it felt as though the two of them had been made for each other, they fit together so well. "I do need to hear about what you did for Tlatoani, but whatever you say isn't going to change anything."

"How can you be so sure?" Nick asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I've seen who you are when no one's watching," she said, and Nick chuckled.

Still holding Nick tight, Judy could feel it against her, starting from deep within his chest. "That doesn't sound like it should be possible," he said, and Judy could hear the smile in his voice, "But if you're sure..."

They had broken apart to start walking again, and every time Nick tried distancing himself Judy pulled closer. It took him some time to recount his days of being employed by Tlatoani, and he kept breaking off from his story to glance at Judy as though he was still afraid she'd change her mind about him. But as she patiently encouraged him on, the story did come out, and it was about what she would have expected. Tlatoani had cultivated Nick's services slowly, with a careful deliberation that seemed to Judy as though he had been testing the limits of Nick's skills while trying not to scare him off. It had been simple jobs at first, perfectly legal things any alchemist could have done, and he had rewarded Nick with what the fox wanted most—old books on alchemy. And, although Nick didn't say it directly and Judy guessed the crime lord had never put it so bluntly, respect. The shrew sounded as though he had genuinely appreciated Nick's talents, and it seemed to Judy a terrible waste that the Alchemist Guild didn't accept predators; how much stronger might Nick be if he had been formally taught and had access to the guild's private libraries?

The secret of making fake torcs might not be in those libraries—although it might; from everything she had seen herself and from hearing the story of Nick's youth, Judy didn't have high expectations for the guild—but if Nick could figure it out on his own she had no doubt that other alchemists could. From what Nick said, it wasn't something he had done very often, and not for any mammals who sounded as though they could be involved in either whatever had happened in Phoenix or in the attack on the princess.

Judy's paw brushed against her own torc, currently useless though it was, as she considered the pieces of the puzzle she had. Perhaps Cencerro had been lying when he said it, but he had claimed that if a different member of the City Guard had accompanied Nick, they would have been better able to frame Nick for the murder he had been arrested for.

Judy frowned. No, that wasn't right. Cencerro had said only that the other guardsmammal could have framed Nick before he even set foot in Phoenix, not that he would have framed Nick for that specific crime. But why? Did Cencerro know about Nick's connection to Tlatoani, and want to use it to somehow link them to his apparent coup in Phoenix?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she might have ran right into a hole in a partially collapsed tunnel if Nick hadn't gently pulled her off her path. "Careful, there," he said cheerfully, "I've only got one of you."

"I was thinking," Judy said, and Nick nodded sagely.

"I thought I smelled smoke," he said, "What about?"

"I just don't understand what Cencerro's plan is," Judy said, and she was sure her frustration was evident in her voice, "Why did he want us there? Where did he get his army? What—"

"He didn't want us there," Nick interrupted, "He wanted me there. He said it wasn't supposed to be you who ended up in Phoenix. Were you a last-minute replacement for someone?"

"That's right!" Judy said, and she couldn't believe she hadn't seen the connection before.

She had been so concerned with trying to figure out what Cencerro had wanted with Nick and what he was trying to accomplish that she hadn't even considered her own role in it. "There was another guard who was supposed to do the mission but he got sick right before he could leave. Lieutenant... Lieutenant..."

Judy sucked at her teeth as she tried to remember the mammal's name. He had only graduated from the academy a year or two before she had, and as she recalled he had been at the top of his class. She had never spoken to him before, though, and she didn't have Nick's apparently perfect recall for names and faces. She thought she might not be able to remember it after all, and then suddenly she could. "Lieutenant Sakatl," she said, and she could picture the deer's face.

"What do you know about him?" Nick asked, and Judy considered the question.

Sakatl was large for a deer, but it was mostly height, not bulk; he looked to have the elegant grace his species was known for, as well as a rack of antlers larger than Judy was. Sakatl was, Judy had heard, particularly proud of those antlers, but whether he did actually become sullen when he shed them every year or if that was just a rumor that got spread about him she didn't know. Considering how he had distinguished himself walking a beat, Judy was more inclined to believe the rumor was spread by jealous mammals.

"He's a good officer, or so I've heard," Judy said slowly, "I don't really know anything else about him."

"That's not much to go on," Nick said, but his tone was thoughtful rather than discouraging, "Do you know what he was sick with?"

Judy frowned, trying to remember. She thought she knew the lines Nick's mind was working along; it might be possible that Sakatl hadn't gotten sick at all, but what that could mean only raised more questions. Cencerro's claim that Sakatl could have framed Nick while they were traveling to Phoenix certainly made it sound as though the deer was involved in the sheep's conspiracy, but perhaps his cooperation hadn't been willing. Had the lieutenant found his conscience and refused to help? If so, perhaps he had been poisoned as punishment, or he had simply claimed to be sick to get out of escorting Nick.

"No, I don't," Judy admitted at last; no matter how she had scoured her memory she didn't think anyone had ever told her what Sakatl was suffering from.

"Something to follow up on once we get back, then," Nick said, and Judy nodded.

She wasn't able to set the puzzle aside, though, and she kept trying to figure out the extent of Cencerro's plans all the way up until the point that they came to the gorge formed by the destruction of Quimichpatlan Barony. Judy heard the sound of running water long before they reached the crack in the earth, but at last they were there. She was surprised at how deep underground they had traveled as they made their way to the limits of Phoenix; there was a narrow and jagged patch of lightness far overhead that was the only sign of daylight.

Where they stood, though, was near a blistered and cracked wall of rock, thickly coated with vividly green moss. The spray from the waterfall made everything damp and earthy smelling, and the long years that had passed since it had formed were clear in the rock. The elaborate mosaics and tiling of the tunnel they were in were badly eroded where they hadn't melted and run with the heat of whatever bit of magic had split the ground, the details blurred away into a vague fuzziness. The gap from one side of the tunnel to the other, across the gorge, was even wider than Judy would have guessed from her time on the surface; it was perhaps five hundred feet from one side to the other.

There was no visible path; some columns of stone had collapsed and protruded from the walls on either side like uneven teeth in a yawning mouth, but the irregular protrusions didn't even come close to meeting up. Looking down, the gorge descended into such pitch-black darkness that it was impossible to tell how much deeper the ruins went. Nick studied the gap with a serious eye, and Judy noted that he was studiously avoiding looking down. "Would it be easier if we kept going down?" she asked, "Cross the gap at the bottom?"

Nick shook his head. "The lower levels are all flooded, and there are more things down there we don't want to meet."

The memory of the Ehetcatl tearing at her arm was suddenly painfully vivid. "You can make a bridge across this gap?" she asked, and Nick shot her a sidelong glance.

"You don't think I can?" he asked, "Do you still doubt my skills?"

His tone was teasing and playful, but Judy pulled his paw into her own. "You're exhausted," she said, "I can tell. If making a bridge now might... might kill you I—"

"It won't kill me, Judy," he interrupted, but his expression had softened, "It'll probably give me the worst headache the gods ever cursed a mammal with, but I'll live."

"You promise?"

"I promise," Nick said, and that was that.

It took him nearly an hour to draw out a complicated diagram with a nub of chalk, which he did with a precision that made his previous alchemical transmutations look sloppy. Several times he stopped, erased a line, and replaced it with one that didn't look any different to Judy. He muttered to himself as he worked, and Judy watched in silence until he was done. The pattern he had drawn had a certain almost mathematical beauty to it, a series of spiraling triangles within a circle that seemed to be spinning to infinity or receding into it depending on how Judy looked at it. Nick set his focuses with exquisite care, and then set his paws against the circle, his eyes squeezed firmly shut.

Judy had expected a bridge to simply start growing out from the eroded edge of the tunnel, but that wasn't what happened. Instead, what seemed like thousands of black filaments, no wider than a spider's web, sprouted from it, growing longer and longer as they did. They waved crazily in air currents Judy had barely felt, the incredibly fine lines vanishing from view as they grew ever longer. After perhaps fifteen minutes of this, the only sound Nick made his steady breathing, the filaments suddenly burst with light, drawing patterns through the air like bolts of lightning and sharply illuminating the gorge and waterfall.

As Judy threw up a paw to cover her dazzled eyes, the light faded out nearly as quickly as it had appeared, but Judy could still see the afterimages of the threads burning in her field of view. She wasn't sure how many there had been total—it seemed like at least ten thousand—or how many had successfully crossed the gap. It seemed like most of the threads had become interwoven, or simply drooped downwards, but a dozen or more had anchored themselves against the far wall.

Nick opened his eyes, his chest heaving with exertion, and caught sight of Judy blinking out the remnants of the light show. "I should have warned you not to look," he managed to say between deep panting breaths, falling over onto his side.

"I should have remembered," Judy replied, feeling somewhat chagrined; she had seen him perform alchemy frequently enough to know that whatever he transmuted would burn briefly and intensely with its own light, "How do you feel?"

"Wishing I had some of my philosopher's stones left, to be honest," he said.

Judy knelt beside him, rubbing a paw across his shoulder. He looked weak and used up, his eyes blearily regarding her. She felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he could have at least eased his own pain if he hadn't used all of his stones to heal her. "I can't thank you enough for saving me," she said, and Nick managed a weak laugh.

"Maybe not, but I wouldn't mind if you tried," Nick said.

Judy gave him a quick peck, kissing him between his ears, and Nick slowly rolled from his side onto his back when she pulled her head back. "I can't say you're not grateful," he said at last, "Just give me a few minutes."

When ten minutes had passed, he forced himself to his knees and carefully drew another series of patterns across the drawing he had already made. When he applied effort again, Judy couldn't help but look despite knowing that she'd be blinking spots out of her eyes for minutes afterwards. Connections began growing between the filaments as they thickened, and the resemblance to a spider's web became truly uncanny before it started looking more like a bridge. A somewhat twisted bridge with an incredible number of dangling supports that looked as though it had grown naturally more than that it had been built. It was, to be perfectly honest, quite ugly, but it did seem to span the entire gap.

As soon as he was done, while Judy's vision was still full of painfully bright lines, Nick collapsed. "Nick!" Judy shouted, and her heart was in her throat as she rushed over to him.

Some part of her was convinced that he had been lying, that creating a bridge while already exhausted would be enough to kill him, and for a moment Judy couldn't feel the beat of his heart. But then one of his paws lifted and brushed feebly against her. "S'fine," he murmured as Judy lifted his head into her lap, "Just need a few..."

He trailed off, and his breathing became more regular. He had apparently passed out. Judy wasn't sure how long she sat there, cradling his head, and feeling relief wash over her as he continued to breath. She stroked at the fur of his head, marveling at how peaceful he seemed when at rest and enjoying the sensation of simply touching him. As she ran the fingers of her left paw through his fur, she paid closer attention to her altered fingers. There was a small scar on her thumb, shaped a bit like a ragged letter "c," and she supposed it was a perfect replica of a scar Nick had at a slightly smaller scale. A quick check of his own paw, which felt quite warm in her own, confirmed that she was right. Judy wondered how he had gotten his, and what it meant for her that she had its twin. Before she could think about it too deeply, though, her thoughts turned again to Cencerro and whatever he had been planning.

She still had no satisfying answers to her questions, although she hoped that Captain General Bogo would find what little she did have useful. Judy sincerely hoped that he would, at least; the idea of him being either involved in Cencerro's plot or simply incapable of figuring out the solution refused to fit how she saw the world. And yet, she had already seen plenty of proof that things weren't quite as black and white as she had once thought. A seemingly loyal and decorated member of the City Guard had tried killing her, and had done something to the entire population of Phoenix to make them vanish even if she didn't know what it was. Vanish just as an army had shown up...

When Nick finally awakened, Judy could barely contain her excitement at sharing her new theory, but she did her best. He was still obviously weak, and no matter how exciting her idea was her concern for him was too great to ignore. If anything, though, his exhaustion (and what was, he assured her, the worst headache he had ever had) seemed to dull his fear of heights, although he had crawled across the bridge with his eyes screwed shut and his body trembling. She supposed he had simply been too tired to be afraid, and once he was across Judy positioned herself under his arm and let him use her as a crutch.

When he had finally recovered enough that it seemed he might be capable of actually listening to her, Judy asked the question that had been turning over in her mind for what felt like hours. "What if the reason everyone in Phoenix disappeared right as an army showed up is because they are the army?" she asked.

Nick had blinked wearily at her for a moment before speaking. "So everyone in Phoenix really was out to get me?" he asked, "How could Cencerro make everyone play along?"

"Isn't there some kind of blood magic or alchemy or, I don't know, some kind of artifact from Quimichpatlan Barony that—"

Nick cut her off with an exhausted shake of his head that made his head brush up against hers. "Mind control, you mean," he said.

"Yes, exactly!" Judy said triumphantly, glad that even as tired as he was he got her point, "Is it possible?"

"No idea," Nick said, "But it's a thought."

Judy tried to rein in her disappointment, but she must not have been successful because Nick observed, "Your ears are drooping again."

"I just really want to figure it out," Judy said softly, and Nick nodded again.

"I know," he said, "But let's get out of here first."

Although Judy would have loved to have picked his brain further for ideas, she let the topic drop and continued to support Nick as he guided them through the tunnels on the opposite side of the gorge. It occurred to her that while they might still be in the ruins of Quimichpatlan Barony, they had left behind the borders of Phoenix, and it was a strange thought. They had successfully escaped the settlement; now all they had to do was reach the surface.

That took several more hours, and it was only with ever more effort that Judy didn't say anything. Nick was clearly too exhausted to manage a conversation, and so Judy kept trying to figure out patterns in her own mind. It didn't quite seem fair; she had lost an arm and was already feeling more or less normal, while he hadn't suffered any injuries at all and was obviously in far more miserable shape. Eventually, though, Nick brought them to a shaft about ten feet wide with a spiraling staircase circling it. It was dusty and had a disused air to it, but it seemed to be entirely intact. Nick groaned when he saw it, though, speaking for the first time in hours. "I was hoping for a lift," he said with a sigh, "This is going to take me a while."

"I'm here for however long it takes," Judy replied, and she was as good as her word.

It wasn't easy, making her way up the stairs with Nick leaning so heavily against her, and the stairs themselves seemed to spiral endlessly upwards. At long last, they came to a hatch and Judy threw herself at it, pushing as hard as she could. For a moment, she thought that it might not open, that Nick would either have to transmute an opening or that they'd have to walk all the way back down and find another way out. But the hatch did give way, showering the two of them with dirt and fine pebbles. The sunlight was just as dazzling as the light of Nick's alchemy after so much time underground, and Judy squinted as she pulled herself out onto the pock-marked and barren ground of the wastelands. Looking down at Nick, the natural light made him appear more ragged and frail than the glare of an alchemical torch. His fur was matted with dirt and cobwebs, and the weariness in his eyes appeared even more pronounced. Despite it all, though, Judy thought he was more handsome than he had ever been.

"Come on," Judy said, "I'll pull you up."

Nick reached up, Judy grabbing his paw and pulling him into the light of day.

Author's Notes:

Judy dropped her spear to draw her sword when fighting the monsters back in chapter 31, and I figured that it made sense that Nick wouldn't have bothered to pick it up when he was carrying her.

Foxes are indeed omnivores, rather than obligate carnivores like some predators. Then again, considering that Judy's insides are a blend of rabbit and fox at this point, her dietary needs might not be quite as simple as Nick suggests; he's certainly not a doctor.

Hardtack has been made for hundreds of years, particularly for use by soldiers and sailors as cheap and relatively non-perishable calories. In the real world, hardtack was sometimes stamped with identifying information before it was baked, as it was here.

Sakatl's name is derived from the Nahuatl word for "grass," which seemed appropriate as a surname for an herbivore. Male deer do indeed shed their antlers every year, but whether that's something that would actually make a sentient deer moody is beyond me. It certainly seems like the sort of gossip that might be a self-fulfilling prophecy, though; if people treat you differently because they expect you to be acting in a certain way, it might irritate you enough to make you act that way.

The bridge Nick builds starts with one of the applications modern science would find quite difficult but alchemy as described here would have better luck with. Carbon nanotubes, although a frequently mentioned material in modern science fiction, are a real material with incredible properties, including fantastic strength. Creating usable lengths of nanotubes is a tremendous challenge, but if you could create lengths of arbitrary size you could do a lot with them.

Otherwise, I don't have too much to say about this chapter. I do hope you enjoyed it, and if you're so inclined as to leave a comment I'd love to know what you thought!