Chapter Three
Woeful Will
"So you've never even TOUCHED an explosive?" Bean asked; his voice was wrought with disbelief. Stella shrugged, lightly pushing aside the unlit bomb that was shoved in her face. Nack had chosen to shove the fox in Bean's sidecar of the Marvelous Queen, primarily because she wouldn't fit in Bark's compartment. And Nack didn't want the little snot climbing all over him while he was trying to drive—like hell he was going to risk the safety of his precious bike, even for the sake of a fifty million dollar pink diamond. The Marvelous Queen simply was worth more than that.
They were coasting above the icy plains of the Aurora Icefield, sprays of snow flying behind them and burning up in the heat of the Marvelous Queen's jet engines. There wasn't much to be seen here; just an assortment of massive glaciers submerged deeply into the seemingly endless plane of frozen ice. A light dusting of snow seemed to line the entire expanse, piled up from a recent flurry.
"You sure this guy lives here?! It seems like we ain't getting anywhere fast, shortstack!" Nack yelled over the engine. Stella nodded briskly in reply. "Bark! You're from here, right? You ever heard of this Dr. William Piniford?"
The polar bear simply shook his head slowly and shrugged; Nack groaned, pulling down hard on the accelerator. The bike jumped a bit, then rocketed forward through the icy plains with little effort. The weasel grinned; some would insult the control power on his magnificent Marvelous Queen, but they were just too stupid to drive it right. She was a thing of beauty in the hands of someone who knew how to actually USE her.
Despite the thrill of the ride, Nack couldn't help but be concerned about the reply he got from Bark regarding the so-called doctor. The weasel couldn't claim to know much about his teammates but he did know that Bark had been born and raised in the Aurora Icefields. It seemed like it would be a natural fact that if someone supposedly so important lived there, the polar bear would've had at least a passing knowledge of him—then again, Bark seemed to be naïve to the Frost family as well, so it was questionable if his being from Aurora meant that he actually knew anyone in the area. It seemed pretty spread out…
"Damn lot of help these two are." Nack muttered in irritation, shifting gears with a rough tug. "Kid! Exactly how far are we from this nimrod doctor's house?!"
"About twenty minutes north!" She shouted over the roar of the engine. "It's easy to miss, though, cuz it was designed to look like the local flora and fauna! But there should be a bunch of tech junk behind a gate in the front of the glacier—he likes to work in the front yard a lot, so he might even be out in the yard!"
"Oh good, we get to find one glacier out of a hundred. Sounds like a real great mission." Nack snapped, veering the Marvelous Queen on course north. "Exactly why did you have to drag us way the hell out to the middle of NOWHERE for your little playtime mission?!"
"It was your idea, Knick Knack." Bean piped in. "You said he might know something since he was the weirdo that her parents were going to visit."
"….Thanks for the reminder, idiot. Is that his place there?" Nack growled, gesturing loosely in front of them. In the far distance was the dimmest outline of what appeared to be a wooden fence, circling around a fairly unassuming looking glacier. As they closed in the weasel caught sight of various mechanical parts lying both within and inside the wooden gates. Shifting his foot, he slid the airbike to a stop alongside the round barrier. Stella immediately jumped out.
"Yep, you found it!" Stella exclaimed as she tugged at the lock on the gate. A frown quickly crossed her muzzle as she pulled harder, to no avail. "Why's there a lock on his gate? There wasn't a lock last time I came here."
"Because there are just some nasty, awful types who might break in and do bad stuff on his property." Nack said dryly, pulling out his gun. A sharp banging rang out and the metal lock fell uselessly to be buried in the snow below. The three mercenaries strode through the now open gate, Bean rushing forward to slam his fists against the block of ice serving as a door. Bark pulled him back momentarily, but looked up when the jangles of an inner lock sounded—large yellow eyes were peering out from the other side.
"Who are you three?" The voice from the other side of the ice was low and tired. "I assure you, there is nothing more I have to give. I'm completely strapped of the information that you seek. All I want is for you miscreants to leave me in peace so I can do my research."
"We typically go by 'Hooligans', actually." Nack replied, placing his foot on the door and pushing it forward. The old man fell backwards, the light revealing him to be a rather large musk ox adorned with scholarly robes. "Thankfully for you, we ain't here on a mission to take your trash from you. Matter a fact, lucky you! We're here to drop some trash off instead."
"Hey! I'm still paying you, conman! You can't talk like that about me when I've got a contract with you!" Stella snapped, stepping in front of the weasel to shove him backwards. Nack didn't move an inch—he wasn't exactly known for his strength but he sure as hell wasn't going to get taken down by a seven-year old girl.
"Miss Stella?" The girl looked away from her escort, over to the musk ox struggling to his feet with the help of a cane. The scholarly beast hobbled over to the fox, tussling her hair with one hand. The hoof drifted down from her hair to her face, running over the girl's features—she did nothing aside from pursing her lips into a concerned frown. "Yes…yes, it is you, isn't it? It's been such a long time."
"Your sight has gotten worse, Dr. Piniford."
"Sadly yes." The ox sighed. He pulled a small pair of spectacles out of his breast pocket to place over his grey eyes. "Nowadays even these do very little to help me see. You may stand in front of me now but all I see is a small grey blob…but it is not of importance. I am an old man and my sight is just bound to go. More importantly, child, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn't you be at Frost Manor with your aunt? The staff has been calling around nonstop to find you…"
"I ran away." Stella huffed—Piniford had surprisingly little reaction to that. "I'm gonna find mom and dad, no matter what it takes! So—"
"Yeah, long story short, Shiela here thinks you might know something about this bull since you were the last person to see them alive." Nack interrupted. The musk ox fixed his broken gaze on the weasel—even knowing that the doctor couldn't see him, the look in his eyes was somewhat discomforting. "…So, can you tell us anything? We kinda ain't got time for screwing around and there's a pretty nice reward on the line."
"Such unsavory men you have recruited to do your quest, Stella." Piniford stated calmly as he hobbled away to settle himself in a nearby chair, nearly missing the seat in the process. Bark strode across the room quickly to push the chair into the old man's trajectory and the ox smiled to himself. "Mostly unsavory, I suppose. Are you really so desperate that you would hire such sleaze?"
"Hey, Professor Eyesight, you got a lot of books in here!" Bean cried out—he had scaled one of the bookshelves to begin throwing the tomes on the ground. Bark was attempting to grab the duck and bring him down, but he couldn't quick reach the height Bean had scaled to. "But you don't got anything INTERESTING! It needs more treasure, more explosions, more SHINY! Like this one, this one has a shiny cover!"
"….sleaze, and lunatics…" Piniford sighed. Stella puffed up her cheeks in annoyance. "I was aware that you were determined to find them, Stella, but I didn't realize you had reached the point of leaving your aunt's care for the company of questionable mercenaries."
"…Please, doctor, just…just don't. You…you're just tryin' to distract me. I know you know something, and I know you've been keeping it from me." Stella whispered. The ox bowed his head slightly. "I need to know. I won't go home until I know what happened."
"And until she goes home, we ain't getting paid, so I suggest you spill the beans." The doctor flinched slightly, feeling the cold touch of a gun pressed against his forehead. Nack had moved to crouch on one of the armrests of the chair Piniford sat on, his weapon situated straight between the temples of the old man's head. "What d'ya know about the kid's parents?"
"Nack!" Stella shrieked, rushing forward to knock the gun out of the weasel's hands. He jumped down from his post and fixated the fox with a glare. "Don't do that to Dr. Piniford! He's a friend, not an enemy!"
"Ain't nothin' of neither, just people who have the information that we need. How th' hell am I supposed to do this work if ya keep pulling crap like that?" Nack snapped under his breath; his complaints went ignored, overshadowed by a long sigh from the musk ox nestled in his massive chair.
"I am an old man, you miscreants, and as such I know many things. Many a knave has come to my abode in an attempt to swindle me out my knowledge, and for nothing more than their own gain of money. A paltry, silly thing that in the end gives a person nothing they truly desire." The ox closed his eyes. "But since your client is a family friend, and seeking something far more important, I am willing to share the private facts that I will eventually die by."
"D-die by?" Stella stuttered. The ox gave her a woeful, tired smile.
"It is of no importance. Don't bother yourself…it is just the exaggerations of an elderly scholar." Piniford reassured. Nack watched the musk ox closely; working in the line of business the weasel did, one came to know when someone wasn't telling the truth. And this old man was lying with the best of them. "You, the one who called himself a Hooligan. I will need your attention to assure you have the knowledge to protect this child."
"M'name is Nack. And I'll 'protect' the kid to the fully extent of the paycheck she's handin' to us." The sniper placed his foot on the side of the plush chair and leaned in, grinning menacingly—it was meaningless in action, and received only with a blank half-blind stare. "Which at the moment, hey, is shaping up to be pretty damn hefty. So present the hot info already."
"….Such a sleazy person." The musk ox sighed. "But what must be done, must be done. Her parents did indeed disappear last year, when they came to talk to me—but they never made it here. You see, they never intended to come here in the first place."
"Well that contradicts what Poof Tail said!" Bean remarked from the top of the book shelf.
"It contradicts what EVERYONE has said." Nack commented, glancing at the white fox; Stella was simply staring at the doctor with poorly masked confusion apparent in her eyes.
"That's because they didn't want anyone to know anything…and to be honest, I don't know the full story. All I know is that your parents had become wise to a plot by some unknown ne'er do well…to kill them." Piniford extended a hoof dramatically; both Stella and Bean gasped dramatically, although Bean's seemed more sarcastic. Nack rolled his eyes. "I know little about the plan itself. Neither of them would tell me much. They said they didn't want to put me in danger. Frankly, I believe they only let me in on what was happening because they needed a favor."
"A favor? What kind of favor would billionaires need from some old ox who lives in a block of ice?" Nack questioned. Piniford chuckled.
"They asked me to write an inheritance will."
"An inheritance will!" Stella cried. "The one back at the mansion with my aunt?!"
"The same, my dear. Although the one in your aunt's position might not be exactly the same as the one I originally penned for your parents." Piniford shook his head. "I haven't read the will since I wrote it but I do know that no one should possibly have it."
"Care to let us in on why that is?" Nack groaned, gesturing impatiently with his hand.
"So impatient. But I suppose impatience is the luxury of youth." Piniford chortled; Nack found his fingers itching for a trigger. This old man was nothing short of a nuisance. "The reason no one should have their inheritance will is because there was only one copy, and they had it with them when they disappeared. Ergo, when they disappeared, so did that will."
"So what's the one that Poof Tail's aunt has?" Bean questioned, scuttling to the corner of the bookshelf to avoid Bark's paws trying in vain to drag him off the top of the shelf.
"I'm not sure. I do know that Vanessa Frost was very close to her brother, so perhaps she did in fact manage to secure a copy of the will via Stella's father." Piniford contemplated. "…But more likely is the theory that the copy in her hands is a forgery, possibly given to her with malicious means by whomever our ne'er do wells are. If that's the case, the contents of that falsified document could bode poorly for the surviving Frost kin…especially Stella."
"Why her, exactly?" Nack leaned in. "Somethin' we need to know?"
"The original inheritance was split eighty-twenty between Stella and her aunt Vanessa, in Stella's favor. And even without the will present, the majority of the fortune would eventually go to Stella, as their only living child." Piniford explained. "I have no doubt that whoever was after the Frost family, they were after them in liu of their money—neither of them had any sort of lifelong enemies who would be after them for personal reasons. But if the person after them IS pursuing monetary gain and is doing so via a falsified will…"
"…then its probably pretty unlikely that the fake will is gonna tilt in the kid's favor." Nack mused. Piniford nodded.
"Precisely. It could very well leave the remaining Frost relatives out of money, and out of their home."
"An' you got no idea who these so called 'ne'er do wells' are." Nack groaned, dipping his head—they weren't getting anywhere with this verbose old bastard.
"Well, ultimately, the allure of a fortune could bring in many a money hungry individual. All it would take is for one of them to go the distance and commit to actually falsifying a will and removing the obstacles that were the current owners…and the current heiress, I beg to warn you." Piniford fixated his fading eyesight on the white fox child; a shiver ran down her spine at the ominous implications. "…but I will also tell you this: I do not think whoever did this successfully dispatched your parents. I believe they went into hiding, unaware that the fake will had been produced."
"I know hitmen, old man. I am one, after all. If a body didn't show up, then whoever was on the job of axing them off is still going at it." Nack interrupted. "Especially if the rewards are as big as this scam seems to be. Whoever they are, they're still hot on the tail of those rich bastards and will be until there's tangible evidence that they've been taken care of."
"…Yes, I was afraid of that…" Piniford sighed. Nack snickered, shaking his head.
"Don't be, old man musk—yer stupid ass finally did something worth a damn." The weasel pushed away from the arm of the couch, relaxing on his tail. "You gave me a new lead."
The musk ox watched from the gate of his yard as the Marvelous Queen sped away into the distant snowdrift. Piniford had always known that the Frost heiress was gung-ho, but to hire a bunch of clearly unbalanced mercenaries…he dipped his head in thought. She was so young, and so very desperate. It was difficult, he figured, being a child that age and losing parents. He almost regretted catching the child even further in the mess by telling her the scandal, but…
...well, he didn't trust the girl's new companions but it was clear that they were at least decently strong. Piniford figured he'd rather have Stella with someone who could protect her, even if they were only sticking around for the sake of the massive payout that would come from working for someone so rich. He sensed pure strength from the large and kindly one who had helped him with his chair, and pure unadulterated unpredictability from the bird that had been making a mess of his bookshelf. Creatures like that could be a true asset if utilized correctly.
The weasel, though…he seemed untrustworthy. He seemed almost like the type of person who would have created this scam in the first place. Money was purely on his mind all the time, that much was clear to Piniford. He seemed to be the leader to the brawler and the lunatic, to top it off. It was discontenting but he supposed it was better than leaving Stella in the hands of someone who couldn't do ANYTHING for her. And nowadays he wasn't so sure if the fox's aunt could provide the proper protection against the threat the Frost family had begun to face.
He shivered; always so cold out here. Old age was so fickle—great in knowledge, but low in defense against the will of nature. The musk ox turned around to hobble back inside to the warmth of his home, tucking his glasses back into his robe. Now seemed like a good time to take a fine nap in his favorite chair.
"You certainly are having of much knowledge, old man."
Piniford froze.
The voice came from his chair—a thick Russian accent, clearly that of a woman. It sounded almost familiar somehow, but when he searched his memories, the scholar desperately realized that he could not muster up the thoughts that contained such a voice. He cursed himself for ignoring the intricacy of the individuals outside of their appearance—if he had only been more attentive before his sight began to go, it would have been so much easier to identify people.
Whoever she was, though, she sounded unfriendly. Piniford could hear the loud click of a gun hammer. Hesitantly he reached for his spectacles, only to jump when a bullet lodged itself in the wall near his head.
"I do not wish to being known by you, old man. I just came because of the knowings that you are having." Her voice was slick, dishonest, full of malicious intent. "So MANY knowings that you are having. You are having so many knowings that it is become inconvenient. You are know that, of course?"
Piniford straightened up, ignoring the pain that jolted down his back. He refused to not stand proud in this hour—his final hour. "I knew that the lackeys of those ne'er do wells would come for one day."
"You know, employer told me not to kill. To not be make evidence, you see. And that is the funny thing." A click, followed by the sharp banging sound of a bullet burying itself in the doctor's head. "No one will bother to check on you once you are dead, Mr. Piniford."
