In the cool castle study, Ian Death stood lent against a table, pen in hand as he jotted down various sums of money, his eyes sharp and his face a grimace of stress.
The towering form of the badger McGnab entered into the room and passed over to the Laird smartly, crossing his hands behind his back as he addressed him. "How much longer will they be staying, Mister Ian?" he asked, sternly.
Ian's head rose slowly. "You'll have to ask cousin, Angus," he said, bitterly, "they're his guests, Mister McGnab."
"We're short on money enough as it is," McGnab commented, "we cannae afford to have guests stay like this and keep the castle in working order too."
"You think I don't know that?" Ian shot over his shoulder.
McGnab opened his mouth, but then the figure of a red fox paced in through the door, making towards the open front door. "Morning," he said, smiling leisurely as he paced in, his russet fir lit warmly by the sun. "Beautiful day, ain't it? Couldn't resist a little fishing."
McGnab stood to block his path. "Have you finished making your notes?" he said, asking how much longer the fox was planning to stay for with about the subtlety of a hammer.
"Got it in my satchel," Wilde replied, slipping past the tall badger with foxy agility, not even needing to slow as he passed by. "I'll refer to it between bights."
The red fox walked smoothly from the room, not pausing to engage with either Ian or McGnab as he paced out through the front door with a fishing rod over his shoulder and a large, wicker bag tucked beneath his arm; the two badgers watching him grimly as he paced away.
The fox's smile fell as soon as his back was turned to them, the image he had woken up to - of a giant slab of rock descending towards him to crush him beneath its weight - still very much in the forefront in his mind.
Stepping out into the castle courtyard, he breathed the warm yet crisp Highland air, allowing his lungs to fill with the clenching breath. A genuine smile crossed his muzzle as he paced along the courtyard towards the mote. Well, the Highlands may not have all the fancy amenities and luxury items as the city has, he pondered, but the air sure is a heck of a lot cleaner.
He passed the outer gate, under the portcullis, and began to make his way down the soaping hill towards the mote which was lined on both sides by clumps of rushes and other shrubs and bushes. As he approached, the fox turned to admire the splendor of the castle. At least... that was the impression he wished to give. In truth, his was judging where behind these rushes he would need to sit, to be out of sight from a pare of binoculars tracking his movements.
He couldn't see the mammal and the binoculars themselves were to far away to be seen. What did have, however, was the glint of the sunlight reflecting off the lens, and the whits to know what that glint more than likely was.
He crossed to stand directly before the edge of the mote and began to set down his things, laying a blanket on the floor and sitting down behind the rushes.
Some meters away, the figure of a feline, Robert, tutted and huffed as the fox disappeared from view, lowering his binoculars as he moved from side to side as he sought for a way to put the fox back in his line of sight again.
Sat upon the green grass below, the fox glanced around his surroundings once more before opening his large, wicker basket. He smiled down at the contents. "Fishing indeed," he muttered, chuckling as he lifted out an aqualung and fox-sized breathing mask.
...
Out of the heat of day, in the gray light which shone through the tall windows, the small figures of a young rabbit sat upon a hard wooden chair beside a desk which was too tall for her, flicking through a thick book which was too big for her paws.
She turned another page, her amethyst eyes lingering on a basic diagram of the floor plans for the East Tower - the tower which had been bricked up with Black Jamie walled within it; the tower which appeared to be the source of that inexplicable bagpipe playing.
"How is it connected?" she muttered softly to herself, leaning back in the chair as she sought for an answer. "How does a long-dead Laird and some bagpipe playing connect to the disappearance of fish throughout the Highlands?"
The figure of Ian Death emerged from behind her. "Getting on well with your research, Miss Hopps?"
"Oh, err," she said quickly, turning the page away from the plans to the East tower. "Yeah, I'm just trying to get more of an idea of the history of this place. Have there been any major battles here at all?"
Ian considered for a moment. "There were one or two scraps here back in the Middle Ages - you know, before warrant prey united - but not anything enough to warrant any real interest from military historians."
"I see. Any famous people connected to this place? I heard the old Prince back then asked Laird William Wa-"
"Wild Willie," Ian cut in, his pride such as you might bounce rocks from it. "The rising of the clans was planned in the main hall here, and Wild Willie persuaded mammals who had been mortal enemies to sit side-by-side around that table over there. He brought them together to serve the pretender."
The rabbit raised a paw to her chin. "Now, if that moment were recreated."
"With dummies?"
"In traditional costume."
"It would be a moneymaker, hey Miss Hopps?"
"I was about to say it would be a moment in history everyone could share, thanks to you."
Ian snorted at her, an edge of contempt to his voice. "Like that's the real reason."
"And what does that mean?"
"You may sit here and talk about the honor and glory of clan De'ath, but when you get right down to the matter all you care about is how it might be best exploited. How can you possibly know what this means to me; what this castle means to me?"
"A castle which just happens to be on the verge of falling apart," she added, slyly.
"Young lady, do you have any idea how much it will cost to put all this into order? All this talk of moddels and dummies, recreations of the past and damned Son et lumière."
"I think it'd be worth it."
"And I think it'd be a waste of expense. The castle is already in need of heavy refurbishment work just to keep it together, and I am in no position to waste yet more money on frivolous experiences, just to make the place look pretty for the public eye."
Hopps looked at him, flatly. "And how do you expect to pay for all this refurbishment work if not by opening up to the public?"
The badger crossed his arms, slowly, turning and gazing off to the side. "I happen to have a small iron foundry in Edinburgh."
Judy's eyebrows raised. "I didn't know that."
"Well you do now, and I spend a great deal of my time there."
"And Angus De'ath is in Glasgow?"
"That's right."
"So who manages the castle?"
Ian turned back. "McGnab, with the McKern's... but McGnab's in charge."
...
Directly above the pare, on the roof outside, Robbert McKern gazed out towards where he could just about see the figure of Nick Wilde fishing. Behind him, the tall form of a badger approached.
"He's fishing in the mote, is he?" McGnab asked.
"Aye, take a look."
The badger took the binoculars and gazed down where Robert had been looking. "Well, I cannae see him."
"No, he's sat behind the rushes, but if you look carefully you can just see the point of his rod."
"Oh aye, I've got him," he said, gazing down at the point of a fishing rood he could see through the lens, keeping check of the bush the fox was assumedly behind. "Keep a close watch, Robbert. The Chief's gonna deal with him as soon as possible."
...
Below, in the library, Judy Hopps sat hunched over a map of the castle grounds. After Ian had left her, she had dug out a more comprehensive version of the floor plans and was now examining it closely.
Her brow furrowed as an idea slowly crawled into her mind. Returning to the bookshelf, she pulled another map out she had glimpsed earlier: a map of the dungeon. Placing it beside the larger map, she examined the dungeon against the layout of the East tower minutely.
She stood bolt upright as a thought struck her. Working sharply, she snapped closed her book and replaced it back on the shelf, folding the map and stowing it in her pocket, taking her pencil as she darted for the door.
She made her way down the corridor towards the dungeon, remembering how clearly the sound of bagpipe playing had been near the Iron Maiden that night - a fact she had all but forgotten until she spotted the narrow corridor which lead from the East Wing to that very same spot in the dungeons on the map she had examined.
Checking about herself, the rabbit crossed to the heavy, iron door to the basement and made to open the latch. It stuck. The door was locked. The rabbit frowned as she lowered herself onto her knees before the keyhole.
Now, Judy had learnt many things since being recruited by the SIS, one of them being that picking a lock was not merely a matter of jostling a paperclip in a lock for a couple of seconds as it was in the films. It took time, patience, practice, a high amount of dexterity and no small amount of technical understanding. Fortunately the lock on this door was about as old as the rest of the castle, and the rabbit picked it practically instantly with the butt end of her pencil.
Grinning as the latch cracked, she slid the door open and stepped inside. Checking about herself as she made her way down the slippery staircase, she checked she was completely alone this time. Reaching the cold ground at the base of the staircase, she walked directly towards the Iron Maiden against the far wall and examined the face of the crying, female badger painted upon it.
Easing back the door gradually, the rabbit examined the wall of large, pointed spikes which came out to greet her. The spikes were all on the door, she noticed, with none at all on the back.
She stepped a little further in, being very careful to make sure she had a firm hold on the door as it was weighted and tried to swing closed upon her - ending in a very sudden and very messy end.
She leaned in closer still to the back wall. Was that a hairline crack running up it? The rabbit reached out a paw softly and touched it upon the old wood. She traced her paw down the smooth crack, touching it delicately as she felt the line which ran all the way from the top to the floor.
Her ear sprang up light a lightning bolt as the door swung suddenly open and she heard the sound of a large badger entering the room.
"Robbert," she heard him cry, "get down here!"
She heard heavy footsteps descending the steps. She had to hide, but the only place she could reach in time was inside the Iron Maiden.
"Robbert!" McGnab cried again.
"Aye, McGnab?" Judy heard from the feline, panting heavily after running down from the roof.
Slipping inside the tall, wooden container, Judy pulled the heavy door closed just a little, just enough so that she wouldn't be spotted straight away if they came down.
"I thought I told you to lock this door!"
"I did, sir," Robber said, coming nearer.
Judy pulled the shut a little more until the door was only a crack open. Judy heard her breath, wincing at a number of sharp, pinpricks of pain across her body at the spikes which rested lightly upon her, her arms straining to hold the door perfectly still.
"Well it was not locked just now," storming close to the Maiden, "explain that!"
"Well, sir, I ~"
Backing fearfully against the wall as the voices approached, Judy's foot slipped on the wood. She lost her grip on the door, and it fell back upon her with a SLAM.
McGnab and Robbert McKern froze.
"Did you hear that?" McGnab said."
"Aye, sir, I did."
McGnab came closer to the Maiden; a paw reached out.
"McGnab, McGnab!" shouted Roderick McKern - Robbert's brother - as he burst into the room.
"What is it," McGnab demanded, turning from the Maiden.
"There's something in the mote."
"What do you mean there's something in the mote?"
"There's a distinct blip on the radar."
"Have you told the Chief?" asked Robbert.
"No, not yet," Roderick replied.
"Robert," McGnab said, turning to the other McKern, "you're sure MacWilde is still fishing in the mote?"
"Och," Robert said, "Wilde hasnae moved; probably dozed off."
"Right. Roderick, you get back to control. I'll tell the Chief and check on McWilde."
With that, Roderick and Robert hastened from the room. McGnab turned back to the Iron Maiden and gazed at it mistrustfully for a few moments... then turned likewise and followed suit.
...
Judy lay there - panting, panicked - as she tried to figure out why she wasn't dead. She sat upright slowly from lying flat on the floor, and gazed at the doorway in front of her.
Her breaths gasping, her heart rate rapid, she stood up shakily - very shakily - and gazed at the line of long, sharp spikes she should have been impaled upon. Then she looked upon the false back of the Iron Maiden which had opened up as she fell against it, allowing her to fall straight through the back into wherever it was she found herself now.
She turned and looked at the room. It was mostly bare but for a few crates, so she walked stealthily towards an unusually modern-looking door in the corner and opened it a crack. It was then when she realized exactly where she was: inside the apparently bricked-up East Wing.
She looked through the crack in the door and gazed upon a line of large, diesel generators. She pushed the door open a little more, checking the room was empty before she stepped inside.
The air was thick and greasy with the smell of the diesel, thick with the acrid fumes. She turned around slowly, listening to the dull hum of the generators. "Geez," she breathed out loud. There's gotta be enough generators in here to power a street! Wounder what all that power's being used for. I gotta tell Nick.
She turned swiftly and made back the way she came in. Carefully pushing the front of the Iron Maiden open and pulling the false back closed behind her, she darted swiftly across the dungeon floor, up the stares and pulled the door to the main corridor open a crack.
Wincing, the rabbit pulled the door closed again swiftly as the figure of McGnab walked straight past. Listening carefully, the rabbit waited as she heard him pace away up the staircase before slipping out.
Watching the badger as his feet disappeared up the steps, the rabbit considered her next step swiftly. She had to tell Nick they were onto him, whatever he was doing, but she also knew McGnab was now about to pay a visit to this, so called, 'Chief... and that knowing the identity of whoever was in charge here would be an enormous help.
Coming to a decision, she turned away from the front door and made quickly up the stares in persuade of the large form of McGnab.
She caught up enough for him to be in her sight just as he turned a corner. Judy knew that corridor: it was the one which used to lead towards the East Tower which had been blocked off; the one Angus had shown them after dinner the previous night. It was also the corridor which lead to the the rooms she and Nick had slept in.
The rabbit waited a moment longer at the turn of the corridor as she heard McGnab's footsteps disappear. She turned the corner and saw... nothing but empty space.
Her brow furrowing in confusion, she paced towards the spare guest room - the one Nick had slept in the first night - and found the room empty but for the bed. She checked in her room, then in Nick's, and it was the same story in each: no sign of the badger McGnab.
Absentmindedly, Judy paced back into the corridor as she thought, almost walking into Angus De'ath as he rounded the corner toads her.
"Och, sorry," he said, quickly.
"Oh, don't worry," Hopps replied, "I was just looking for someone."
"Mister McWilde?"
"Yes. Have you seen him?"
"Not since breakfast. I'll keep an eye out, though, and tell him you were looking."
"Thanks," Hopps said, smiling pleasantly as she paced back around the corner and down the staircase; the pleasant smile dropping the instant she was alone again.
...
Outside the castle walls, in amongst the weeds, bushes and shrubs, on the side of the bank where mote met earth, the figure of Nick Wilde emerged from below the water's surface.
Striped naked apart for his boxers, a breathing mask and an aqualung which was strapped across his back, the fox started to climb the slippery, muddy bank to get up on to dry land. As he did this, the towering frame of the badger McGnab rounded the hedges and saw him.
They both froze.
McGnab approached. Wilde rushed to try and stand but slipped upon the mud in his haste and fell again. On all fours, the fox made to bolt, but McGnab leaped for him and threw him to the ground.
Wilde struggled, but the weight of the hefty badger kept him pinned helpless to the floor as the badger knelled down upon him, taring the breathing tube away from Nick's mask and holding his large paw firmly upon the breathing apparatus. All happened in but a second and now, with the air no longer able to circulate, the visor of Wilde's breathing mask started to steam up, the fox suffocating within.
Desperate now, Nick drew his arm back, put his paw into a fist, and punched McGnab in the gut. The first punch hit hard, but it wasn't enough, and every punch thereafter had less and less strength behind at as the fox's air ran out - until the last - which faltered and failed to hit the badger at all.
Standing, the large frame of McGnab watched the limp body of the fox for a moment longer, grimaced as he threw the unconscious body of the fox across his shoulder, turning, and walking back towards the castle grounds.
...
Back inside, Judy hurried about from room to room, starting to seriously worry for her partner's health. She rounded the corner in the main hall and came face to face with a badger and the rabbit jerked to a halt.
"Miss Hopps," Ian said.
"Oh, erm... yes Ian?"
"Miss Hopps, I have come to a decision about the future of castle De'ath."
"...well?"
"Under no circumstance am I willing to allow this castle to be opened to the public."
"Oh, but-"
"The decision is made, Miss Hopps, so there's no point in any further discussion."
The rabbit paused. "I see."
"I think, to save any embarrassment, it would be best if you could leave Castle De'ath."
"What, now?"
"As soon as is convenient."
"I'll pack my things." She turned towards the guest bedrooms.
"Miss Hopps," Ian said, stopping her, "I do apologize for my apparent rudeness."
Judy stopped for a moment - "It's alright, I quite understand." - before pacing away down the corridor.
Ian watch as she disappeared out of sight, drawing in a long, slow breath. "...do you?"
