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Chapter 61. I Won't Back Down
by Zula

It is always a peculiar feeling waking up after a night of heavy weeping. Zula rubbed at her puffy eyes and sniffed at the awkward, icky feeling in her snout, before reaching around for her spectacles and accidentally grabbing Antonio's tail instead. She felt the stoat jump in surprise, and her head slipped off his leg, which she had been using as a pillow.

Zula sat up, blinking owlishly, to find Antonio giving her a curious look. "'M sorry f'r wakin' ye, mister 'Tonio."

"That is quite all right," the stoat said. "I was already awake."

The young vixen crossed her eyes. "Ah, would y' lookit that, m' glasses are right here on me muzzle. Must've slept with 'em on..."

Gericault was also already awake, pacing back and forth restlessly. "Er, I don't mean to interrupt, but shouldn't we...get a move on? It's past dawn, and we really shouldn't stay here."

"Certainly. That is, once Her Majesty wakes from her beauty sleep," Antonio said.

Zula crawled over to the neatly coiled pile that was Silisk and began tickling her cold scales. "Wakey, wakey, Silly snakey!"

Silisk slit open an eye, looking rather annoyed. "This is most undignified."

"Undignified or not, we must get going," said Antonio. "You can sleep on Zula's shoulders if you are still tired."

Even Zula caught the hint of playful mockery in the stoat's voice. The serpent raised her head off the ground, glaring regally at Antonio.

"Perish the thought, Master Antonio. I am most definitely fit for the journey. Let us be gone, hence."

With that, she slithered up Zula's outstretched arm and onto her shoulders, the young vixen giggling and squirming ticklishly as she did.

Unfortunately, the journey back to the Oasis was not a simple one. They had to hide from patrols at nearly every turn, in whatever abandoned building or piles of rubbish they could conceal themselves in.

"It's me they want," Zula heard Gericault whisper to Antonio as they crouched behind a particularly foul-smelling pile of filth, flies buzzing all around them. "Marcion must be in a horrible rage because I escaped. He's at least doubled the amount of patrols, by the looks of things. Possibly even tripled them."

"It shall take us all day to get anywhere at this rate," Antonio huffed, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

The last woodlander marched by, and soon the sounds of the patrol faded, leaving only the incessant buzzing of flies. Zula tried watching each of the bugs individually, but it soon made her dizzy. She had to envy the flies, though, with nothing to do with themselves but bumble around carelessly.

"What shall we do?" Silisk inquired, breaking through Zula's pondering of what a fly's life must be like.

"The sewers again, maybe?" Zula offered. "Worked last time with Mr. Sheriff."

"Oh, y' don't want t' be goin' down there, that's disgustin'," said a voice.

Everyone's heads whipped around to see a familiar one-eyed marten drop from one of the rooftops, landing smoothly on all fours.

Antonio nodded curtly. "Ms. Serpentcharmer."

Captain Kione Serpentcharmer straightened. "Mr. Calceterre."

"Pardon my intrusion, but what, pray tell, brings you to this particular location at this precise point in time?" Silisk demanded.

Zula screwed her face up, trying hard to make sense of the adder's roundabout mode of speech, but Kione seemed to understand.

"What'm I doin' 'ere?" she chortled. "Tryin' t' figure out what tha' brush-tailed bastard's up to. Or 'aven't ye noticed that th' streets're...crawlin' wid..." The aging marten paused when she noticed just who (or, rather, what) the fourth member of their party was. "What th' bleedin' 'ell is 'e doin' 'ere?"

"This is Mr. Geri, Miz Kione," Zula said, smiling disarmingly.

Gericault winced slightly at Zula's rather emasculating nickname. "Gericault," he corrected.

"I didn' ask yer name," the marten sniffed coldly, fixing the otter with her icy blue gaze. "I asked what th' 'ell yer doin' 'ere, thicktail. Spyin', no doubt. Yer kind're all alike."

Gericault growled, cracking his knuckles, and Captain Serpentcharmer whipped her cutlass from her belt. Zula flung herself between the angry mustelids, her paws stretched as wide as they could reach.

"No, Miz Kione, don't hurt 'im! He's on our side, he is!"

"Am I?" Gericault growled. "Am I? I'm not so certain if this is the reception I get. Threatening an unarmed beast, eh? How utterly brave of you."

"Want I sh'd give ye m' blade, otter? I'd still rip ye limb from treacherous limb, make no mistake!" Serpentcharmer spat.

"This really is not the time nor place for such discourse..." Silisk began.

"Go ahead and do it," Gericault barked, a single tear coursing down his cheek. "I've got nothing left, so there's no point to anything anymore."

Surprised at the otter's abrupt mood shift, Kione raised her eyebrow and snorted, "What's this nutter on about?"

"Althra," Gericault croaked. "My sister. Marcion used her for...for his pleasure. She was practically his slave. Then he tossed her aside like a dirty pawkerchief when he was done with her. He murdered her, and he made everyone think I did it."

Serpentcharmer had lowered her cutlass, an inscrutable expression on her face. "Why would 'e do that?"

Gericault shook his head slowly. "It's obvious, isn't it? After all the trouble you lot have given him, the Felldoh's Heirs have begun to mutter things amongst themselves about their purpose here. Framing me rallied them together, got them all riled up again. Marcion..." The otter's eyes hardened with rage. "He made me out to be a traitor."

"Well..." Kione coughed politely. "Are ye?"

Gericault looked from the captain, to Antonio, to Silisk, and finally to Zula, who stared up at him, her eyes wide and a claw scratching at a blob of something that had congealed on her spectacles.

"I suppose I am," he said finally. "It's true, I have long been of the thought that our presence here was unnecessary, and ever since Althra became involved with Marcion and I came to know him better, I have suspected something is very wrong with his mind. He needs to be stopped."

"Well then!" Serpentcharmer announced, sheathing her cutlass and clapping her paws. "We c'n work out th' details o' yer treachery later. Th' snake's right, this isn't th' place. I jist saw ye hidin' 'ere an' thought I c'd be of 'elp getting' ye across town. We Red Dusk've gotten pretty good at sneakin' about."

"That would be most appreciated," Antonio said.

"Well, I c'n get y' as far as Sarky's at least. I gotta make me report."

"Ah," Antonio, Silisk, and Zula all breathed together.

~

"So y' see, Sarky, they're goin' mad because o' this beast 'ere."

Captain Serpentcharmer had explained the entire situation with some help from Gericault.

"I see, I see," the affluent marten said, reclining at the desk in his study. Finally, he addressed Antonio, Silisk, and Zula. "It's wonderful to see you all again. I was beginning to wonder if the Felldoh's Heirs had gotten you."

Antonio and Silisk merely nodded in somewhat stony silence, but Zula smiled. "Sure an' it's nice seein' you again too, Mr. Sarky! Any chance o' gettin' some o' them wunnerful scones again?"

Antonio nudged Zula despairingly, but Sarkleyet chuckled. "Absolutely. Captain, see that these creatures are well-fed."

Eight or nine hot, buttery scones later, Zula left Antonio, Silisk and Gericault in the banquet hall to discuss the day's events and their plans once they reached the Oasis that evening. The little vixen trotted through the halls of the mansion. After all that had happened recently, she rather felt she needed to be on her own for a while, to explore. Rekkua's death still weighed heavily on her. Antonio's talk had helped, but only to an extent. One by one her friends were dying...Sybil, Dirano, Rea, Rekkua...and for what?

She passed shiny thing after shiny thing, but they weren't half as intriguing as they would have been normally. What was wrong with her? In the past her little solo expeditions made her forget all the horrible things her mother said and did to her, but for whatever reason...they just weren't making her forget any of this. The pain and emptiness she felt for her departed friends, Rekkua especially, lurked beneath her like a great, hungry maw waiting to swallow her whole.

Zula wandered into a room full of priceless vases and figurines, all displayed neatly on their own little plinths and tables. She grabbed a vase, hesitated the briefest of moments, and brought it crashing to the floor, half out of anger and half out of curiosity.

The pain did not go away.

A porcelain mouse was the next victim. Zula glared at the shards of what had moments before been the mouse's head, gritting her teeth so hard her jaws ached. Why did she still hurt?

Crash after crash resounded as she went on the rampage, toppling tables and hurling objects as hard as she could, growling and shrieking until she went hoarse. It wasn't after she'd destroyed what would take at least ten of her lifetimes to pay for that she threw herself prostrate, heedless of the shards that scraped and jabbed her as she did so. The vixen beat the floor with bloody paws, a whining sob escaping her throat. She realized she couldn't do anything to make the pain go away. She was just weak, small, vulnerable...breakable. As breakable as the objects she'd destroyed. This pain was breaking her, and no amount of distractions could stop it.

"Heavens!"

Zula raised her head slowly to see a mouse servant standing in the doorway with a feather duster, mouth agape at the debris that littered the floor.

"W-what happened?" he demanded.

For the first time in her life Zula felt incredibly foolish, lying there in the aftermath of her temper tantrum. She scrambled to her footpaws.

"Erm...tripped," she muttered, dodging the servant and tearing down the hall. She ran, horrified the mouse would catch her and punish her at any moment, until she no longer knew where she was in the massive building. A depressingly familiar voice halted her escape, and only then did she realize she was back in the hall outside Sarkleyet's study, and the mouse had not given chase.

"What are you really doing here, Nelda?" Sarkleyet's voice inquired.

She thought she'd heard her mother, but what was she doing here? Zula crept to the door, which stood slightly ajar, and peeped in through the narrow crack. Sarkleyet was still reclined at his desk, and Nelda stood opposite, paws folded across her chest as she swayed ever so slightly on her footpaws.

"Ye've no idea what tha' dried-up whore's place is like, Sarky, I can't take it anymore!"

The marten considered this over steepled paws. "Well, I suppose you could stay here for a few nights, I could have a spare room set up..."

Nelda slammed both paws down hard on the desk. "No, Sarky, I want th' Golden Brush fixed up. The villains ransacked the place. I need more...funding."

Sarkleyet shook his head. "Nelda, Nelda, you know I appreciate the services that you and Miss Pearl provide for lonely Evnaktans, but you do realize we are on the brink of a war, do you not? Spending time and money on the Golden Brush at this moment is simply out of the question. Perhaps after the Felldoh's Heirs are dealt with we can discuss it then."

"I'm no' crawlin' back t' tha' whore!" the vixen shrieked. "This is about her, isn't it? Ye've always favored her, I knew it!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sarkleyet said, rolling his eyes. "You know perfectly well what my relationship with Pearl is like. If she came in here demanding money right now I'd give her the exact same answer, and I would continue to give her the same answer once this war is over. Now, I have told you that I will help you after the war is over. Take it or leave it, Nelda."

Nelda looked livid, but she bit her lip, fighting back the curses that threatened to spill from it. Suddenly the vixen switched tactics, slinking around to Sarkleyet's side of the desk, she leaned on his chair.

"Oh Sarky, y' know how grateful I am that ye've helped me out all these years." She ran her paws across his chest, leaning in until their faces were just inches apart. "I'd do anythin' t' be back doing what I do best at th' Golden Brush. Anythin'," she whispered huskily in his ear.

Sarkleyet laughed. "You are so predictable. The answer is still no, Nelda."

The vixen tore her paws away from his chest, growling, "I knew it! You favor her. You'd have her right on this desk if she came in begging, I'll bet."

"You are insane, Nelda Higgins." The marten sniffed at the air, wrinkling his nose. "Drinking again, are we?"

"I'm no' drunk or crazy, y' ol' fool!" Nelda slurred madly, grabbing him by the lapels and shaking him violently. "It's always been her! I've just been that other whore, the one you throw your pity money at whenever you feel like it. Admit it! Admit it!"

"Let go of me, Nelda! You've gone mad!" Sarkleyet slapped the vixen, but instead of snapping her out of her drunken rage, it drove her absolutely ballistic. Nelda smacked him in the face, and Sarkleyet retaliated, half rising from his chair and twisting one of Nelda's arms agonizingly behind her back. With his free paw he reached for something hidden on the underside of his desk, but the vixen found something else first. A hefty copper paperweight smashed into Sarkleyet's head, and the marten slumped back in his chair, half-conscious, blood gushing from a terrific gash on his forehead. Nelda's paws found the marten's throat and she squeezed as hard as she could. Sarkleyet gasped for breath, his eyes bulging, tongue lolling, paws scrabbling to break her iron grip as she throttled the life from him. His struggles became weaker until finally, mercifully, they ceased. Nelda let his body drop back into the chair, staring at her paws in horrified realization of what she'd done.

"What have...Oh...my..." she wheezed. Then she turned and darted for the door.

Zula stood transfixed in horror, unable to react, unable to hide herself away. The door swung open and Nelda nearly ran into her daughter. She stopped, and when her eyes recognized the obstruction they widened in blood-shot rage.

"You! What're ye doing here, spawn?"

Tears streamed down Zula's face. "Same thing the day y' killed Pa. Wishin' I'd never stopped t' listen in!"

"How...how dare ye!" the vixen shrieked. "I won't stand for your lies anymore, worthless brat!"

Suddenly Zula felt two strange sensations. One, she was being hoisted off the ground, and two, she could no longer breathe. Her mother had her paws around her neck, just like she'd had Sarkleyet's, and she was squeezing mercilessly. Zula's survival instincts kicked in, and she reached into her vest pocket for her knife.

Nelda howled as the small blade gashed her forearm wide open.

"You dare...you dare..." she gibbered.

Nelda lunged, knocking Zula to the floor, her knife skittering away out of reach. Zula looked up at her mother, horrified.

"'M sorry, Mam, I had t'. Ye were gonna...I was gonna die..."

She yelped as Nelda's claws raked her face. The vixen struck her again and again, punctuating every word with a fresh blow. "Damn right ye're goin' t' die! Worthless child!"

Zula screamed for her mother to stop. She'd been beaten before, but she had always stopped eventually. This time was different. This time she wasn't going to stop.

And then the blows stopped, and there was another voice shouting in the corridor.

"Get off her! Get off!"

Zula's head reeled in agony, but she managed to look up and see Antonio struggling to restrain Nelda. The vixen was far too versed in dealing with rough males, however. She stomped on the stoat's footpaw, simultaneously driving her elbow into his stomach. Antonio stumbled backward, and Silisk attempted to trip up Nelda's footpaws, but she kicked her roughly aside, dodged Gericault, and made good her escape.

Zula's head lolled weakly. Something hot kept dripping into one of her eyes, so she closed it. She felt a paw lift her head and saw it was Antonio. She smiled at him, wincing as she did. Every movement seemed to hurt.

"Mr. Tonio," she groaned.

"Zula, what happened here?" Antonio asked.

"S...Sarky...She..." The fox raised a paw and pointed at the study.

Gericault darted into the study, though he came out moments later. "He's dead."

Captain Serpentcharmer hurried into the corridor, flanked by two of the Red Dusk. "What's goin' on? That Higgins whore jus' went tearin' out th' mansion, screamin' somethin' 'bout Marcion bein' a better leader than..."

"Sarkleyet's dead," Antonio said firmly, cutting across the marten's chatter.

"Dead?" Kione's single eye widened. "How?"

"Put two and two together, Ms. Serpentcharmer. It is not complicated."

"Y' mean...that whore..." Serpentcharmer snarled at the two Red Dusk with her. "Find 'er! Bring 'er t'me. I wanna kill 'er meself."

The marten marched into the study as her subordinates exited. She returned a minute later, stony-faced.

"'Fraid I won't be 'vailable t' take ye th' rest o' th' way," she said.

"You do what needs to be done," said Antonio. "Come, we need to get back to the Oasis and warn everyone they are no longer safe there."

"Why?" asked Silisk.

"Because it sounds like Nelda has just run off to Marcion, and it is no secret how much she hates Pearl's place."

He knelt to pick up Zula, but Gericault put a paw on his shoulder.

"I'll carry her. You get Silisk."

Despite everything that happened, Zula couldn't help but smile as the otter hefted her in his strong, battle-worn paws. They set out from the mansion, and Zula laid her head against Gericault's solid chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat soothing the aches and pains that jolted her every time the otter took a step.

"Zula, I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you earlier," the otter murmured.

"That's all right, Mr. Geri. Me mam is..." She trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate description.

Gericault shook his head. "Not just that. Last night, when you were crying. I was too busy crying on the inside to reach out to you."

"Cryin' on th' inside? I didn't know ye could do that, Mr. Geri."

The otter smiled. "I should've done something to help. I lost my sister, so I know exactly what you're feeling right now."

Zula's good eye widened. Somehow, the pain eased up a bit. Not the physical pain, but that agonized void she felt on the inside. A similar thing had happened when Antonio spoke to her last night. It was then that she realized that the key to getting rid of the pain was not to try and forget it, but to let others help share it.

"Thank you, Mr. Geri—er, Gericault."

They reached the Oasis unscathed, though Antonio grabbed every available beast he saw and told them what had happened.

"It's okay, y' can put me down now," Zula said to Gericault, as nice as it had been to be carried by him. The otter set her down, and though she was a bit wobbly on her footpaws at first, she felt much better. "I think I'll go see Miz Pearl. She'll get me all patched up."

A booming knock sounded at the door.

"Do not open it!" Antonio warned.

Zula scurried to the nearest window and pulled back the corner of the curtain. At least two dozen woodlanders stood at the front steps, armed to the teeth. The fox could see more of them arriving by the minute.

"Ah, crumbs."