Farewell from Afar

[Dusk Rainblade]

"Full to starboard!" Armina barked, bracing herself on the quarterdeck rail. Urel grunted, straining against the wheel. The Golden Hide slowly turned to face the narrow wave breakers of Bouillabaisse Harbor. The surf crashed against the hull, the white waves breaking on the bow as the bowsprit bobbed with the motion of the waves, the mervixen on the bow clutching her wooden post as if terrified of falling into the water and being crushed beneath the ram.

The Hide’s sails strained against the ropes as the wind caught in them, riding the ship full into port. The massive galleon caught in a swell as it raced through the gap in the rocky harbor walls, bowsprit pointing to the sky for a moment before the Hide crashed back into the calmer harbor water, the impact jarring the crew for a moment. Armina was nearly thrown from the quarterdeck; as it was, she was thrown against the rail with enough force to be winded.

Armina peeled herself off of the rail, wheezing as she tried to laugh. "Well, that was fun," she commented, gasping for breath. She turned and started for the wheel. "I’ll take her in, Urel."

The large fox looked at her with doubt written on his face. "Are you sure, Captain?" he asked, his low, modulated tones laced with concern.

"Aye," Armina said cheerfully, invigorated by the adventurous arrival in-port. "I can handle it."

"If you’re certain, Captain," Urel said, handing over the wheel to her. Armina grasped the spokes in her paws, centering herself behind the massive oaken circle. "Cut mizzens!" she called. "Trim the fores and mains, we don’t want too much speed!" Urel dutifully relayed these instructions to the rigging crew, his voice booming across the ship.

Everything seemed to be going well. They were going at a fair clip coming toward the Imperial Docks, maybe a little faster than was necessary. When they started to get within slowing distance of the docks, Urel leaned in toward her. "Shall I have the crew take in sails, Captain?"

"No, they’ll do it without needing to be told," Armina assured him. Up in the rigging, the searats glanced at each other. Normally they awaited the call to take in sails, since taking them in without synchronization on a windy day such as today could throw off the ship’s heading.

Urel spoke low and urgently in her ear. "Captain, we need to give the call to take in sails."

Armina realized that Urel was right- none of the crew had moved. "You’re right. Give the call."

The moment Urel bellowed the orders, the entire crew moved to act. At this moment, however, a strong gust of wind caught in the sails and started pushing the ship hard toward the docks. The crew struggled to bring in the sails against the wind, the strong force exerted on the massive sheets hindering their efforts. Armina felt the Hide surge forward under her and started to panic. "I can’t slow her!" she called to Urel. The ship started to turn slightly to starboard. Armina struggled to compensate, but it was too late; they were already upon the Imperial Docks.

The Hide scraped against the dock, sending a sound of wood crunching on wood across the harbor. Worse, the Hide continued forward another twenty meters and rammed into the back of an imperial postal carrier. The naval ram at the Hide’s bow punctured the hull of the low barque, wood splintering around it. Armina looked on in horror as water began to flood into the hull of the postal carrier and the ship began to sink.

"Oops."

---------------------------------------

It took all day to finish filling out report forms with the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Niceties, telling and retelling the events of the incident to a dozen different officials, and finally signing a document placing the full cost of repairing the half-sunk postal carrier on the Ministry of War. By the time that Armina was able to return to the Hide, she felt exhausted, irritated and humiliated.

None of the crew looked at her as she boarded the ship; each seemed to be very intently focused on tying and untying knots, checking the sails, and lighting the small lanterns along the main deck. That was just fine with Armina; she was not in the mood to talk anyway. Quietly she unlocked the door to her cabin and pushed her way inside.

It was dark inside, a small amount of light from the sunset finding its way in through the broad windows at the stern. Armina pulled a box of matches from her desk and struck one up, touching it to the wicks of several candles clustered on the desk, melted to a metal plate nailed into the wood. Armina waved out the match and dropped it on the plate beside several of its blackened fellows. She moved toward the broad, four-poster bed at the starboard side, beginning to unbutton her blouse. She suddenly stopped. She’d just noticed a box lying on her desk, small and unassuming. It was a little over a foot in length and half of that in height and width, wrapped in brown parcel paper.

Armina moved over to her desk and leaned over the back of the low chair. With a claw she poked a hole in the paper, using this to rip open the paper. The box inside was of a dark wood and as undistinguished as the paper lying around it. Turning it to face her, Armina opened the lid.

She stumbled back, blown away by what was inside. On a cushion of crimson velvet, their edges gleaming in even this low light, rested Tox’s dark judge brushes.

Armina stared at them for a moment before fainting.

------------------------------------------

Armina awoke to the sound of somebeast pounding on her door. She groaned, lifting her face from the floor. She felt stiff, her muscles protesting movement as she picked herself up. She stumbled to the door, still in a state of mild undress. She opened it to find a very determined-looking Julia at the door.

“Armina! It’s noon already and you’re not even dressed. We’ve had beasts from the Ministry of War coming by every half hour asking for your requisition forms, and all I can tell them is that our captain isn’t out of bed yet.”

“Sorry,” Armina apologized, rubbing at her eyes. “I guess I overslept.”

“That you did,” Julia noted. She scrutinized Armina’s face. “Did you sleep on the floor?”

“No,” Armina said defensively, moving back a bit into her cabin.

“Then why are there board patterns in your fur?”

“I told you I didn’t sleep on the floor!” Armina shut the door before Julia could argue the point further. She made sure that it was locked before allowing herself a slow exhalation. She turned to face the room at large. The wooden box was still on her desk, the lid open away from her. Armina moved around the desk to look inside. The dark judge brushes were still there. Armina picked one up to feel its weight. It felt right; granted, Tanya had never let Armina handle them much, but she did remember being surprised at how heavy they were for being so thin.

Armina carefully set it back down, her head swimming. She couldn’t think, she felt like she was going to faint again. She pulled her chair out with her footpaw and slumped into it, staring in shock at the small, metal blades. The brushes. Tanya’s brushes. Her signature weapon. How did they get here? Who sent them to her? Who would have had them in the first place? Even when Armina had handled the brushes, Tanya had hovered close by, a little unnerved and distrusting of letting the brushes fall into anyone else’s paws. They couldn’t have been in the fire, they’d already searched the whole level of the Ministry complex that had exploded and found Tanya’s nose ring, twisted out of shape by the heat. If the dark judge brushes had been there, they would surely have been deformed as well.

Had someone taken them from Tanya before she died? Impossible- Armina knew Tanya well enough that she could never be stolen from, for she would have hunted the thief to the grave. A horrible thought hit Armina- unless Tanya was dead before the explosion…

So there were really only two possible ways that the dark judge brushes could have found their way here. Either somebeast had killed Tanya, took the brushes from her, rigged an explosion across an entire level of the Ministry Barracks, and then sent them to Armina as some sort of perverse taunt…

Armina hardly allowed herself hope for the second one. It was impossible, it couldn’t be. It was just too implausible.

Because if Tanya’s killer hadn’t sent them, then that meant that Tanya was still alive.

--------------------------------------------

“I’m afraid that level is off-limits, Minister Rogue.”

The small, bespectacled ferret looked up at Armina from his desk, his eyes magnified to owlish proportions by the thick lenses. “The structural damage has made that level unsafe,” he explained. “Even the floors directly above and below it have been evacuated for safety’s sake.”

Armina wondered briefly if the clerk didn’t understand the meaning of the word Minister. “I don’t care if the whole bloody building is going to come down,” she retorted. “I need to get up there and see Tanya’s office.”

“Minister Rogue, a team of investigators from the Ministry of Misanthropy, as well as a Fogey crime scene investigation unit, have already been over the entire level. The fire cremated everyone on that level and destroyed most of the furniture and walls. That floor is under strict “Do Not Enter” orders from the Minister of Misanthropy, and I’m afraid on matters of criminal investigation her authority overrules your own,” the ferret explained.

“Did you not hear me? I. Don’t. Care. Let the Emperor himself come down here and order me out, I’m still going up there.”

The ferret sighed and set his quill back in the inkwell. “Minister Rogue,” he said in what he thought was a compassionate voice, “I understand that you miss your aunt. We all do.”

Bloody liar.

“But I’m afraid that seeing the scene of her death will bring you no peace,” he continued. “There is nothing left to be done for her. There is no body left to bury, and a fine monument has already been erected for her at the Imperial Cemetery. It is time to accept that she is g-“

“I KNOW SHE’S GONE!” Armina exploded. All the clerks in the room stopped scratching with their quills and looked up at her. “I WAS AT THE FUNERAL! NOW WILL YOU HAND OVER THOSE BLOODY KEYS OR DO I NEED TO TAKE THEM FROM YOU?”

The ferret sighed deeply before producing a set of keys. “I hope you find what peace you will, Minister Rogue,” he said simply, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh, go to the ‘Gates,” Armina grumped, starting for the main stairwell.

The fourth floor of the Ministry Barracks was quiet. Ash no longer drifted in the air, but Armina could smell the scent of burning and decay. Everything was blackened and charred. The wooden walls were either crumbling or completely gone, and the stone walls were dark as night. Armina ran her pawfinger along one and came away with a dark smudge on it, but the wall beneath was just as black, if not blacker. A thick layer of ash rested on the ground, and as Armina stepped into the room, the dust floated up around her ankle. Sunlight filtered in through the gaping, decimated windows, making everything seem even more derelict. Armina shivered, deciding that she didn’t like this place.

It took a while to find Tox’s office. It was strange, walking among these ruined shells of offices. She could remember walking down this hall before, on her way to visit Tanya. The image remained before her like a ghost, superimposed on the destruction. She could see the ghostly officials nodding at her from ghostly desks as she passed the remains of their rooms. ”Good evening, Miss Rogue.” “Pleasant day, Miss Rogue.” “Do enjoy your visit, Miss Rogue.” Armina wondered if they'd been here, caught in the same senseless blast that had killed her aunt, or if they'd been spared, relocated elsewhere in the complex. She wondered why she'd never thought to ask someone.

In the end, it wasn’t quite so difficult as Armina had expected. Tanya’s office was not only much larger than its fellows, but it was the only one made out of stone. Armina remembered the incident report by the Fogeys saying that Tanya would most likely have been protected from the blast except that she had her door open. Once inside, it turned the room into a veritable oven. Tox had no avenue of escape; she had always hated windows, paranoid that an assassin would climb in and attack her or that a marksbeast would shoot her as she worked. In the end that same paranoia was what trapped her in a fire so hot that nothing of her body remained.

Armina squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears as she walked through the now door-less doorway. The room was darker than its fellows, and it took Armina’s eyes a moment to adjust. Even then, it was still hard to tell where everything was. The ash shifted about her feet, and for a brief, paranoid moment Armina realized that she might be wading through and even breathing little specks of Tanya. Pushing that thought out of her mind, she started for the one thing that she could make out with any clarity: Tanya’s desk.

The massive, low-seated desk was the only thing in the room that hadn’t been totally destroyed. Armina remembered Tanya bragging about it once to her. ”’S ebony, a wood from righ’ near th’ other side o’ th’ world. G’won, scratch it. Y’ won’ pu’ a den’ innit fer all yer try.” Armina put her paw to the wood. It fell soft to her touch, and for a moment she worried that it would crumble under her paw. To her surprise, it held; it was merely charred, not actually burned out of existence.

Armina moved around and started pulling at drawers. Several of the handles snapped off under her paws and Armina was forced to pry them open with her claws. To her disappointment, she didn’t find anything of note in the drawers; most of the papers had curled and blackened to the point of illegibility under the heat. Ignoring the feeling of discouragement, Armina continued feeling around the desk. Surely Tox would have some sort of secret compartment, she reasoned.

Nothing. For all Armina tried, she could find no way into the desk. After feeling the leg space of the desk for some three minutes, Armina went to stand up. Whump! Her head collided with the underside of the desk. Armina cursed, holding a paw to her injury. ‘Gates, that was hard!

Suddenly it dawned on her. Hard. Armina crawled out from beneath the desk and examined the rim of it. Sure enough, the underside of the desk was about half an inch thicker than could be accounted for by the wood alone. Kneeling, Armina began to work her claws in around the rim of the desk’s underside. She tugged, and she felt it give slightly. Her hopes rising, Armina gave a mighty heave, but the desk stuck. She peered through the tiny crack between the desk and the secret compartment. Something was blocking it from coming out, but she couldn’t tell what.

Armina stood up and examined the desk from a distance. There was no way she could open that drawer, not if it was wedged shut. But maybe... Armina leaned in and ran her claw across the surface. While before its burning her claw had made barely a dent, now it left a sizable groove.

Armina glanced about the room. Nothing. She raced down the hallway, glancing into the remains of offices with the same result. It was downstairs, in a small armory, that she struck gold. She returned to Tox’s office, heaved the axe above her head, and brought it down on Tox’s precious desk.

The wood split in two, and after a moment of groaning in protest the desk split in half, the two sections sliding toward each other. Beneath the remains of the top, a thin drawer rested on the ground. Armina pushed aside the other sections and picked up this hidden segment. It was surprisingly heavy. Straining to lift it, she carried it out into the lighter offices and deposited it on the remains of a windowsill, now a rough level of stones. A metal plate rested almost like a second layer atop the drawer. Carefully Armina lifted this away to reveal-

Armina was almost disappointed. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a key. It was small, the same dullish-gray as the the metal plate below it. Armina tried to pick it up and was surprised to find it fused to the plate- probably from the heat, she reasoned.

Momentarily stumped, she sat back in the ashes. A key. A key to what? What secret of Tanya’s could this hide? There were a thousand things Tanya might keep locked, and a million places she might hide it. The chances of finding it in a city of this size were remote.

Armina picked up the drawer and carried it with her downstairs. At least she knew now that Tanya did have some secrets left behind. Discovering them would be something else entirely.


--------------

Armina sat back on her four-poster bed, twisting the key in her pawfingers. A blacksmith in town had separated it from the plate and repaired it for sixty gilders. Armina had paid him eighty to make sure he told no one of what she had found. If Tanya was dead, then Armina was just being paranoid. If she was alive, then it was best that she keep her discovery secret. After all, Tanya still had enemies.

A heavy pounding sounded at the door. Armina sat up, heart in her throat, and reached for the dagger at her side. "Who is it?" she called.

"'S Khan," came the slurred reply. "I need ter talk wit' ye, Adm'ral."

Great, the bloody fool is drunk, Armina thought disgustedly. "The Admiral's dead, Khan," she called. "Go to your bunk."

The obstinate veteran didn't seem to hear her. "Tanya, open up!" he demanded, pounding on the door with even more fury.

Armina swung her legs out of bed and went to the door, annoyed by the retiree's drunken performance. "Now look here, Khan-" she began.

She got no further. The drunken veteran toppled through the doorway, and Armina barely caught him. A large bottle of Ole Ironsides fell from his limp paw and rolled across the floor, the amber liquid spilling from the neck. Armina grunted as she tried to support the much-larger beast. "Somebeast help me!" she called out the open door, struggling to put her shoulder beneath Khan's chest.

Pawsteps pounded across the deck, and Urel appeared at the door. Immediately he seized the semi-conscious Khan and hauled him over his shoulder, grunting at the weight of the beast as heavy as he was. Armina followed her steersbeast as he carried Khan to his bunk. As gently as he could he deposited the veteran on the mattress, the old fox groaning incoherently. Armina touched Urel on the shoulder. "Tell Julia to keep an eye on him," she said softly.

She turned to go, but suddenly Khan's paw shot out and clamped around her wrist. Armina was surprised by the manic but coherent look in his eyes as he stared at her. Even more surprising was that there were tears running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispered, a deep, unspeakable anguish in his voice.

Urel gently peeled Khan's pawfingers away from Armina's wrist and softly pressed Khan back onto his bunk. The veteran's eyes rolled back up into his skull and he subsided into unconsciousness once more. Armina started at him in shock. "What was that about?" she whispered to Urel.

Urel shook his head. "The elderly often have many regrets," he whispered back. "Whatever transpired between him and Minister Ryalor clearly caused him great pain."

Armina nodded, wondering what on earth could have passed between two beasts who had barely even spoken. "Well, I hope he find his peace, she muttered. "I hope we all do."

-----------------

The next day, Armina visited the site of the second fire, where Jeshal was supposed to have perished. Like the clerk at the Ministry of War, the Commerce accountants did not seem to understand the authority that came with being a minister. Eventually Armina had to threaten to bring a Guard complement before they would allow her into the decimated Commerce offices.

This proved to be a waste of time. The Commerce offices, though equally charred compared to the Ministry of War, held absolutely no secrets. Nothing in Jeshal's office had survived the inferno, and the ashes had already been thoroughly combed by the investigators. If Jeshal was also alive, he was giving no signs of it.

By noon Armina was back aboard the Hide, trudging through the crew compartments on her way to the gallery. She suddenly stopped in the center aisle, ears perked. She could hear the soft sound of somebeast weeping in one of the little makeshift cabins. Curiosity piqued, she pushed open the door. Sokea was lying on her bed, her face pressed into her pillow as sobs racked her body.

Seeing her friend so upset instantly put Armina on alert. "Sokea, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

It took several seconds of soothingly stoking Sokea's back before the ferretess was coherent enough to answer. "Kiptooth is -hic!- going away, and he's -hic!- taking Lin with him!" She dissolved into a mess of tears and hiccups again.

Armina sat up, stunned. Kiptooth was leaving. A sudden thought hit her- if Kiptooth was leaving, then that meant...

She was running through the infirmary door before she even realized she had moved. Sure enough, black travel cases littered the narrow counters and the operating table, each in a varying state of fullness. Kiptooth was calmly placing his stethoscope inside one such bag as she walked in.

For some reason the deliberateness of the motion angered Armina. "You're leaving?" she demanded, advancing on him.

Kiptooth did not look up. Rather, he sighed and continued packing. "Yes, Armina, I am. With Tanya gone, I'm afraid it's time for me to move on as well."

"But Valdrisk and Aille-"

"-Will be coming with me, yes. Toby is seeing them to our ship now."

The anger rose up in Armina again. "You can't do that!" She shouted. “Custody falls to the closest living relative-"

"Which would be your Aunt Dusk." Kiptooth looked at Armina steadily over his spectacles. "You do remember Dusk, don't you? I think we can agree that she's not good parenting material. No, the kits are much safer with me. Besides which, Tanya had too many enemies in the harbor that would like nothing more than to end the Ryalor line right here."

Armina sighed and leaned against the door frame, trying to think of some way to counter Kiptooth's logic. She came up with nothing. "Where are you going?" she asked sullenly.

This time Kiptooth did not meet her gaze. "Fyador," he said in a tone than immediately made Armina suspect he was lying to her. "There are still some relatives of Falun there who will take us temporarily."

He immediately busied himself with packing his bags again. Armina noted that he put a pillbox in his syrups case and the bottle of cold medicine in with the pillboxes. She quietly stepped over to the table, reached across Kiptooth's arm and corrected his mistake. Kiptooth turned pink and mumbled a quiet thank you.

"What relatives?" Armina asked suddenly, her tone conversational.

"Sorry?"

"What relatives does Falun have in Fyador?" Kiptooth paused in gathering his things, and Armina pressed her advantage. "Alexei is dead, and the rest of the Fyadorian nobility were wiped out in the Purges. I saw the official documents. The entire line of Ryalor was wiped out as enemies of the state. There are no more relatives, Kiptooth, and you know it. So tell me, where are you going?”

Kiptooth sighed, clasping the bag before turning to Armina. “A safe house, someplace far from the Imperium. Tanya made me promise not to say where.”

Armina raised an eyebrow. “Not even to me?”

“Especially not to you. She was afraid you would insist on accompanying us if you knew.”

“Well, I should be going with you,” Armina declared. “The kits are my family. No offense, but Tanya should have made their safety my responsibility.”

“They’re not your responsibility, Armina,” Kiptooth reminded her, putting his bag with its fellows. “Tanya didn’t want them to be.”

This just irritated Armina even further. “Why not?” she snapped. “I’m their cousin! Why not give them to me?”

Kiptooth tilted his chin and looked at her over his glasses with sad, sad eyes. “Did you really not know Tanya at all, Armina?” he asked simply.

Armina felt as though she’d been slapped. “Don’t you dare tell me I didn’t know her,” she growled, her paws trembling in tight fists.

“I didn’t. I’m just saddened to see how little appreciated Tanya’s concern for you is.” Kiptooth brushed past her, picking up his bags and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway and turned back to look at her, a seriousness in his eyes. “I know you’ll likely ignore all I’ve said, Armina,” he said, his words weighted with emphasis, “but please try to remember that Tanya died that day, not you.”

Armina could not even speak in reply, her mouth flapping like a fish as she reeled under Kiptooth’s accusation. She stood there until long after the doctor was gone and the sunlight streaming through the porthole turned to twilight.

-------------------------------------------------

The Hide was a gloomy place the following morning. The crewbeasts went about their duties with little enthusiasm, weighed down by the prevailing sense that not all was well. Sokea would not emerge from her cabin, refusing food, drink and company. And as heartless as it was, Armina couldn’t have cared less about her friend’s mood at the moment. She was still furious at Kiptooth for both taking her only remaining cousins away from her and for the indignity of his comments. She even turned a cold shoulder on Julia for being Kiptooth’s most beloved student and therefore a partner in his crimes. She wandered about the decks like some skulking demon, glaring at every crewbeast within sight and wishing they would all go someplace very, very far away.

When the messenger from the Ministry of War arrived, Armina nearly bit his head off in her bad temper. When she heard the news he was carrying, however, all of her preoccupations fled. She almost flew across Bully Harbour in her haste to reach the Ministry Barracks, her mind entirely fixated on confirming the messenger’s words herself.

She reached the Barracks out of breath. A complement of Guardbeasts rushed to unlock and open the courtyard gates for her. “Where is he?” she wheezed, leaning on a sergeant for support.

“In th’ ‘oldin’ cells,” the sergeant informed her. “We caugh’ ‘im tryin’ ter boar’ a ship ter Alkamar. ‘Ere’s been an arres’ warran’ ou’ fer ‘im since th’ day’ve th’ explosion.” As Armina started for the door, he walked beside her, matching her brisk pace. “‘E was one’ve th’ las’ beas’s ter see th’ Minister, an’ ‘e escaped fr’m custody jus’ hours b’fore th’ Minister died. We foun’ these on ‘im as well.” They paused just inside the door, and the sergeant held up his paw. Eight canine teeth, stained yellow, rested in his palm. “‘Ey match ‘is guards, foun’ dead th’ nigh’ b’fore,” he informed her. “We alrea’y checked wit’ th’ coroner, an’ ‘e confirms ‘t.”

“Of course they would, he’s the only beast in the Imperium that takes trophies from his victims,” she countered, starting forward again. “The only question is why you didn’t tell me that he was a suspect in your investigation.”

“Misanthropy led th’ investigation, nah us,” the guardbeast protested. “We were under orders-”

“Never mind your bloody orders,” Armina snapped at him, grabbing a torch off its bracket and turning onto a steep, spiral stone staircase descending beneath the Barracks. “I just want to make sure this spawn of Asmodeus pays for what he did.”

The dungeons were dimly lit, torchlight dancing in the hallway and casting the cells into shadow. All the cells were empty, save for one at the very end of the hallway. Two Guardbeasts stood at attention at the opposite wall, watching the cell’s occupant carefully. They knew very well what he had done to their predecessors.

The Guards snapped to attention as Armina approached, but the vixen ignored them. She stared intently into the cell, her eyes slanted. “Is this him?”

“Aye, Min’ster,” the sergeant confirmed.

“What happened to his face?”

“‘E resist’d arres’, Min’ster,” the sergeant explained. “We ‘ad t’ subdue ‘im.”

“I resent that statement, officer.” The voice was childlike, high-pitched, but carried a note of amusement. The guards both stepped back and lowered their pikes as a small, kitten-like wildcat stepped into the light, his white fur almost yellow in the torchlight. The hint of sadism in his smile looked even creepier on his youthful face, despite the nasty gash on the left side of his brow.

“Had I truly resisted arrest, officer,” the cat continued in that oddly patronizing manner, “you would all be dead. No, I am incarcerated at my pleasure, and I leave at my pleasure.”

Despite herself, Armina felt a shiver run down her spine. Still, she kept her composure as she spoke. "Leave us. Bar the door behind me." The guards were all too eager to comply, abandoning their posts immediately and dashing for the stairs. A moment later, the heavy thud of the oak door shutting reverberated through the dungeon.

Armina approached the bars, her eyes glistening like hard, green pebbles in the torchlight. "Quilane," she breathed, looking deep into his face as if to verify it was indeed him. "All this time searching for the killer, and it was you. My own crewbeast. I should have known when you turned in your resignation and left."

Kerri shrugged lightly. "I commend you for recognizing your mistake after the fact," he commented. "Most beasts don't even get that far."

"Shut it," Armina commanded. She leaned in to the bars, glaring at Kerri across the small space. "You killed Tox. Admit it."

"With pleasure," Kerri said simply. "I'll even attest to it in court, if you so desire. Unless, of course," his eyes glittered knowingly, "you aren't planning to wait for a trial."

Armina stiffened at what Kerri was implying. "I could do it, you know," she threatened. "No one would even wonder what happened to you."

"Oh, I'm fairly certain that your old guardian, the honorable Judge Freedom, would have something to say about it," Kerri reminded her. "Besides, I know you won't do it. Minister Ryalor said you wouldn't have it in you."

Armina froze. "You spoke with Tanya?" she asked stiffly. "About me?"

"Oh yes," Kerri assured her. "You were a subject of a great many conversations for your Aunt, both with me and with Minister Ironclaw. I find it surprising that you never realized just how much you played into her plans."

"Plans? What plans?" Armina was leaning very close to the bars now.

Kerri shrugged again in that infuriating way. "I would hardly know," he reminded her. "I was only a mere Kreehold mercenary, doing the odd job for the Ironclaw. Whatever your aunt had planned most certainly died with her."

Armina was growing increasingly frustrated with Kerri's ever-shifting story. "Enough," she commanded. "Why did you send me Tanya's brushes?"

"I'm sorry?" Kerri asked, somewhat disinterestedly.

Armina reached inside her coat and pulled out one thin, dark dagger. The black, sharpened tip gleamed in the light. "Don't tell me you don't recognize this," she rebuked him.

Kerri examined it from behind the iron bars. "Yes, of course I recognize it," he told her, more intrigued now. "But I'm afraid I never sent you those. They were never even within my possession. Most curious," he mused.

"For 'Gates sake, stop lying!" Armina shouted, reaching through the bars and grabbing the tom by the throat. Surprisingly, Kerri did not even flinch. Armina's gaze bore into his eyes as she spoke, quietly and dangerously. "I want you to tell me, right now, without lying: did you actually kill Tanya?"

Kerri did not even blink at her. "I'm afraid that even if you heard the truth, you would not believe it," he told her. "No, I apologize Minister, but whatever truth you seek, you will have to find yourself."

Armina stared into his eyes for a moment before releasing him. She paced before the cell for a moment, running a paw through her headfur. She turned toward the cell once more, her paw fishing in her right pocket. "At least tell me what this is," she requested, holding up the key from Tanya's desk.

Kerri raised one eyebrow at her. "I do believe that it's a key."

"No kidding, Noir," Armina said sarcastically. "A key to what?"

Kerri shrugged. "I don't know," he told her. "If this is another mysterious inheritance from your aunt, then I would start asking myself what business she might need for me to finish. Barring that, I would ask myself if I had ever really known her at all."

Armina stepped back, stunned. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, struggling for a response, before turning and marching back up the dungeon. The guards unlocked the door for her and barred it again behind her.

"Send a gull to Judge Freedom," she told the sergeant. "Schedule the trial for this week. Tell him this is one he'll definitely want to see convicted."

With that she set out for the door, a question ringing in her mind: Did you ever really know Tox at all?

First Kiptooth, and now Kerri, she realized. Though she hated to even think it, she had to wonder: what if they were right?

------------------------

Armina paced her way through the crew quarters, wearing a hole in the boards as her thoughts wore a hole in her skull. She paused as she passed Sokea's cabin, distracted by the sounds of weeping, before shaking her head and moving on.

Had Kerri really killed Tanya? The evidence pointed that way- the Guard had raided his apartment in the Slups and found several explosive compounds, which a chemist from the Ministry of Innovation had already examined and declared to be a rare substance banned from the Imperium, and one which could have easily caused the explosions that decimated the Ministries of Commerce and War. Then there was Quilane's presence on the scene just hours beforehand and the collected canine teeth, which the Ministry of War attorney said would certainly be enough evidence to merit an execution. Armina had even received a gull from Anithias telling her that if the evidence was truly as convincing as she promised it was, he would see to it that Kerri hanged.

And yet part of Armina doubted. Kerri had been just a bit too smug, too open with his answers. He knew what he was in for and he could most certainly lie his way out of a situation. Yet he was admitting Tanya’s death as if he had nothing to fear. What truly confused her, though, was his answer to the question of whether he had actually killed Tanya. ”Whatever truth you seek, you will have to find yourself." What was that supposed to mean? Had he really killed her? Had he been part of one of Tanya’s ‘plots’ and helped her and Jeshal escape from she-knew-not-what? Or had he been playing her the entire time, confusing her either for his own amusement or to orchestrate his escape?

Armina’s train of thought was derailed as she passed Sokea’s door again and heard the loud sobbing inside. Suddenly irritated by the sound of self-pity, Armina flung open the door and stormed inside. “Stop it!” she shouted at the prone jill. “For ‘Gates sake, pull yourself together! Here,” she leaped upon the bed and tried to wrestle her friend’s face out of her pillow, earning her shrieks of protest, “stop mooning about already! It's not like you have any real problems, he was just a silly bo-"

Whap! Armina was caught by surprise as one of her friend's flailing paws caught her across the face, landing a solid blow. She fell of the bed, touching the mark on her cheek in shock. Sokea swung her legs off the bed and towered above her, tears streaming from her blind eyes and hiccuping in rage. Her voice came out shrill and accusatory, two tones Armina had never heard from Sokea before and thus shocked her all the more.

"Don't you dare -hic!- tell me I'm -hic!- just being a silly girl! You, -hic!- you go and -hic!- collect todds so you -hic!- feel important, but -hic!- Lin actually meant -hic!- something to me! -hic!- He was -hic!- kind, and sweet, -hic!- and he held -hic!- doors for me, and- -hic!- and he always listened -hic!- and he always -hic!- helped me, even -hic!- if I didn't need it, and- -hic!- and- -hic!-"

Sokea's words dissolved once more into an incomprehensible mess of sobs and hiccups, and she threw herself back on the bed. "And I loved him!" she wailed in agony. "I -hic!- loved him and I -hic!- never told him!" She buried her face in the pillows once more.

Armina was stunned. She had never seen anything of this magnitude from her friend before, and truthfully she had not considered the jill capable of it. Sokea 's admission of love for Lin caught her off guard as well. Sure, she'd teased Sokea plenty about falling for the scrawny jack, but she'd never thought she would actually do so.

Now that she thought about it, Armina realized just how blind she'd been to the importance of Lin to Sokea. Not only was he her very sight, the beast who guided her around the harbor, but he was also her closest companion. Armina had always assumed that she was Sokea's best friend by proxy, but now she realized that it had been Lin all along.

Armina felt like a monster as she picked herself up off the floor and cautiously put one paw on Sokea's arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "I didn't know." She sat down at Sokea's side, and began brushing the jill's long, faded blond headfur out of her face. "How long have you felt like this about him?" she asked.

Sokea sniffled and raised her head out of her pillow. "I don't know. I didn't realize it until he left."

"Don't you just hate that?" Armina commented, starting to braid Sokea's hair. "Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder," she quoted. "I imagine he's probably going nuts right now missing you."

"Oh no, I hope not!" Sokea moaned. "That would just make everything worse."

"Oh, cheer up, gloomytail!" Armina said teasingly, flicking her ear. "Look at it this way: you have a boyfriend now."

"I do not!" Sokea protested.

"Oh yes you do!" Armina teased, starting to tickle Sokea. "Lin and Sokea, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"

"Get off!" Sokea squealed, squirming under Armina's fingers. She grappled with Armina and the pair rolled off onto the floor, caught up in hysterics until they couldn't breathe.

Later that night, as she settled into bed, Armina allowed herself a smile. It had been good, exchanging femme talk with Sokea again. It was like old times, when it had been just them, talking late into the night and giggling over todds, Armina shocking Sokea with her inappropriate stories and Armina indignant at Sokea's rather tame 'type'. For just a little bit, they had been teenagers and immature again.

Armina closed her eyes and she could hear their two voices giggling before Armina tried to hush her friend.

"Shh, shh, listen! There's something I want to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Giggle... Alright, I promise."

"I'm serious, Sokea. This could land us in a lot of trouble."

Sokea took on a somber expression, and immediately Armina knew she could trust her. Sokea had no notion of how to fake facial expressions. "Alright, I promise on the Forest Gates."

"Good enough. Now listen closely." She scooted closer to the ferretess, putting her lips close to Sokea's ear. "I kissed Jeshal."

"Armina!"

"Shh!"

Armina clamped one paw over Sokea's mouth, holding it there until she was sure that Sokea was silent. When she released Sokea, the jill hissed at her, "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I'm sorry. Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, of course. But why?"

Armina shrugged. "I don't know."

"What happened?"

Armina glanced about, almost nervously, which was almost pointless since they knew they were alone. "Well," she whispered, "it was the day he took me shopping. I had suspected that he was up to something, and- Oh, but I can't tell you that either!"

"What? Honestly, Armina, I won't tell!"

"Alright. Well, do you remember that time I tripped on the stairs and hurt my head?"

"Of course."

"Well, I didn't trip."

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. "Jeshal?!"

"Yep."

"But... Why?"

"That's an even longer story. Let's just say that by the time of the shopping trip, I felt pretty betrayed."

"Alright, but how does that lead to you kissing him?"

Armina scooted a little closer. "Well, I wasn't planning on kissing him actually. I think I wanted to kill him, or at least force a confession. So, I went into a dressing room, waited a moment, and then called out for him to come in and help me."

Sokea giggled. "Oh, you are awful!"

"I know, right? I was kinda surprised that it worked. I mean, seriously, do males really think that would ever happen?"

"I guess they must. So, did he come in?"

"Yep. He just hadn't expected that I would hide myself above the door."

"Oh no!"

"Yep. Pounced on him as soon as he came through the door. He never saw it coming."

"And then you kissed him?"

“Well, not right away. First I held a knife to his neck and he nearly killed me with that claw of his. But then--I don’t know, I guess it was pent up in me--I just kissed him.”

“How did he react?”

“He seemed stunned at first. Then he put his paw on my hip, and at that point I slapped him and told him I hated him for what he did to me and my family, and especially for making me fall for him despite all of that.”

Sokea made a small ‘Oh’ with her lips. “And how did he take that?”

“He was quite smug about it. So I slapped him again...”

“I bet he loved that.”

“...and then I kissed him again.”

Sokea shook her head in wonder of her friend. “Honestly, Armina, you are so strange sometimes.” She lowered her voice again, this time to a whisper. “But nothing happened, right? Right? Armina!”

“No, of course not!” But there was something else in her voice, something which spoke of unfulfilled wishes and hidden regrets.

Armina fell asleep to the sound of conspiratorial whispers and a male’s triumphant laughter.

-------------------------------------------

The day of the trial, Armina was on edge. Not because of the possibility that Kerri might be acquitted; several defense barristers had refused the case before that obnoxious Celcus Hercen took up the post, and from what Armina had heard, Hercen didn’t have a leg to stand on. No, what put her on edge was the thought of Quilane hanging. Of standing in a crowd and watching as the little tom was led, still smiling that broad, remorseless smile, up to the stage to dance the gallows jig. Of seeing that smile etched on his face even when he had ceased to twitch.

Suddenly, Armina was no longer sure she had made the right call in not killing him in his cell.

The courtroom door opened, and a clerk beckoned to Armina. “You have a prime seat,” he whispered. “Right there, by the Judge.”

Armina looked and saw she was seated at the post of honor, just a few feet left and a foot or two short of the Judge’s post. A golden-furred fox in a ridiculous powdered wig was seated there, looking impatient for the proceedings to begin. Armina’s heart suddenly swelled into her throat, and she felt a strong inclination to run right back out of the courtroom. Still, today they were on the same side, were both there for the same reason. Maybe they could put the past behind them for just a few hours.

Armina made her way over to the chair as quietly as she could. Armina glanced over at Anithias, caught him watching her, and gave him a quick nod. He returned the gesture imperiously. Armina felt a strong desire to stick out her tongue at him.

Armina was surprised by how many beasts in the audience she knew. Granted, the Smelt had hyped it up to the point of being called ‘the trial of the century’, but she was still surprised at how many beasts she saw with that same expression of determined stoicism on their faces, the look of those who have come to see justice done and are trying very hard to not let it become personal. Even more than Tanya's funeral, a glum, sham affair where a minister who had never even known Tanya spoke of her dedication to the Imperium and beasts she didn't recognize offered her their sincerest condolences, the sight of so many who genuinely wanted to see Tanya's murderer brought to justice made Armina realize just how great of an impact Tanya had on the lives of so many.

The trial began with little fanfare. The bailiff gave the call to rise, and everyone stood, even Armina, to acknowledge Judge Freedom. Then they sat, and Anithias read out the particulars of the case. The crowd fidgeted in their seats, anticipating what was to come.

Judge Freedom did not disappoint. As soon as the charges were read, he glanced up at the bailiff. "Bring forth the accused," he ordered.

The entire crowd murmured as the bailiff pounded twice upon the floor with his staff. At first nothing could be heard over the low hum of conversation; but then even this died away as they heard the faint clink of chains.

They all watched the stand in anticipation as the sound of chains clinking together grew louder. Armina leaned forward, straining to see into the dark stairwell. For a few moments it was only that same sound of metal link upon metal link; then a pale-furred head, the large feline ears standing proud, appeared from the shadows. The entire crowd watched in silent hostility as he ascended to the stand. Armina felt a stab of loathing as she observed his upright posture, that marked pride in his stance.

Kerri turned to face the bench, that broad, kitlike smile on his face. The desire to split open his chest and gut him intensified as his smile widened at the sight of Armina. He even dared to give her a cheerful wink. Armina stiffened before turning away pointedly. She would not rise to his taunts.

"Kerri Quilane," Anithias stated, his voice ringing in the courtroom. "You stand accused of the assassinations of Minister of War Tanya Sabhal Rainblade-Ryalor and Minister of Commerce Jeshal Smith, alias The Ironclaw; the murders Antony Greene and Jasper Lewis, Guardbeasts in His Majesty's Service..." He listed the names of several MinoWar and MinoComm clerks. Armina tried her best to catch them in her mind, but they trickled out of her memory like sand through her paws. Anithias concluded his recitation of the charges with the question, "How do you answer these charges?"

"Not guilty, your Honor!" called Hercen quickly from the defense post.

The volume in the courtroom skyrocketed as the crowd began to shout angrily at Hercen. Anithias banged his gavel repeatedly, calling for order. "The audience will maintain order or else will be ejected from the courtroom," he warned. "Mr. Hercen, you will permit the defendant to answer the question or else risk being found in contempt of the court."

The room settled down, and Judge Freedom put the question to Kerri again. Kerri did not even hesitate. "Not guilty," he proclaimed. For a moment Armina's mind ground to a halt. Did he just say...? Suddenly she noticed the large smile on his face, and it all made sense. Of course. He wants to give them a show.

The audience, however, seemed delighted with his answer; that is to say, they hollered and shouted profanities at him until the Judge nearly snapped his gavel in two from pounding on it. "The prosecution may have the floor," Anithias directed once order was restored.

The attorney did a good job with his opening remarks, promising the jury that they would see indisputable proof of Kerri's involvement in the explosion that had killed so many beasts, including two of the Emperor's most important servants. The audience listened to him with rapt attention, and when he concluded his remarks, he was greeted with a thunderous round of applause. Armina had no doubt that he would be a hero at the Bilge that night.

Hercen, on the other paw, was something of a disappointment. Armina had heard Fogeys complain that Hercen could get a jury to proclaim themselves guilty and even tie their own nooses, but today he was somewhat lukewarm. He talked about how Kerri was a loyal crewbeast in the navy, had never once even received a misdemeanor, how he had served the Ministry of Commerce as a Kreehold Mercenary for these past few months. Most of his argument was made up of insinuations, some of which Armina found highly offensive. He inferred that the Ministry of War had no clue who had killed Tanya and was using Kerri as a scapegoat. He even made the slightest hint that the new MinoWar might be using a highly publicized trial to hide the skeletons in her closet. At that accusation Armina had wanted to strangle the weasel; fortunately Anithias immediately called the barrister out of order and rescinded his speaking time, which Armina decided would be punishment enough. If slander was the best he could come up with, then there was truly nothing to fear.

The trial really became interesting when the witness examinations began. The prosecution first called the arresting guardbeast, who testified to Kerri resisting arrest and to finding the two sets of canine teeth on his person. Immediately Armina could see where the prosecution was going with their argument. They were going to first point out everything Kerri had on him that indicted him in the crime, then how it matched up with the events of the murders. It was a very dramatic ploy, definitely in keeping with the ‘trial of the century’ theme. Hercen’s cross-examination of the guardbeast fared slightly better than his opening remarks. He criticized the use of force, stating that such a small cat surely could not present such a threat. He also criticized the search of Kerri’s belongings as unnecessary, though the jury seemed far from convinced on this.

The defense, lacking any other concrete witnesses, called Kerri to the stand as their first witness. Here Hercen seemed somewhat more confident as he strutted before the jury. “Tell me, Mr. Quilane,” he asked, “what was your relationship with Minister Ironclaw?”

“He was my employer,” the tom answered calmly. He seemed almost bored with the proceedings.

“Are you referring to his role as a captain or his role as a minister?”

“Both, of course.”

“And how was your relationship with him as a captain?”

“Amiable, I suppose. We never had any altercations.”

“And with him as a minister?”

“The same.”

And so it proceeded for several minutes. Armina felt her eyelids start to drift close as they spoke. If Hercen’s intention was to bore the audience to death, he was doing a good job at it. Several of the audience members, especially those in the crowded press box, were glancing out the windows and passing notes to each other.

Finally Hercen stepped down and allowed the MinoWar attorney his turn. “Mr. Quilane,” he asked, getting straight down to business, “were you in the Ministry of War Barracks on the night of Humidor the 12th?”

“Do you mean the night before the fire? Of course,” Kerri answered calmly. Armina noted that this time he seemed a bit more involved, his smile returning.

“And what were you doing in the Barracks?”

“I had been arrested by order of Minister Ryalor.”

The crowd began to murmur in interest. Several beasts nudged their neighbors awake.

“On what charge?”

“On charge of murder.”

Now the crowd was really coming awake. Anithias banged with his gavel a few times to control the noise level. Hercen was looking astonished, rifling through his notes. Armina had the feeling that this had not popped up in their interviews.

“And when did you leave the Barracks?”

“That night, when I slit the Guards’ throats and escaped.”

The conversation in the room rose to a din. Hercen looked absolutely mortified. Anithias pounded furiously with his gavel for silence.

“And did you return the next day?”

“Yes.”

“For what purpose?”

“To plant a bomb.”

The commotion at this point was so great that it took a full minute to restore order. Hercen had slumped back in his chair and apparently entered a catatonic state.

“Mr. Quilane, are you claiming responsibility for the explosion that killed Minister Ryalor and several other employees of the Ministry of War?”

“I would have thought that was obvious. Of course I am.”

From there the trial became a frenzy. In the next few minutes Kerri admitted to every single one of the crimes he was charged with, including several that had not been listed. The newsbeasts went absolutely wild, jotting down notes so furiously that Armina was sure their pens would break. After Quilane stepped down from the stand, the trial became rather tame. The MinoWar attorney brought forth all of the forensic evidence, along with calling a few Misanthropy crime-scene investigators to the stand, but the high point of the trial was definitely over. Hercen couldn’t even be roused to cross-examine the witnesses.

It took the jury less than five minutes to convene and come to a decision. The verdict was one of guilt. Kerri was dragged to the center of the courtroom to face the Judge. “Kerri Quilane,” Anithias said, his voice crisp and professional, “you have been found guilty of multiple counts of assassination and murder. Do you have any last words to the court?”

Kerri nodded. He took a deep breath, and then looked around the courtroom with that same steady smile. “You may kill me if you like,” he said simply. “However, it is you who will have to suffer, for in this era the graves do not hold their dead.” The courtroom erupted into a flurry of murmuring at this, while the newsbeasts looked gleeful at the introduction of a historical significant quote.

Anithias banged the gavel for silence. “Kerri Quilane,” he proclaimed, “the court hereby sentences you to hang by the neck until dead. Your execution shall be tomorrow at high noon. May the Forest Gates open to accept your soul.”

Bang. Just like that, the trial was over.

Armina sat there, stunned, as everybeast moved around her, clerks closing up their briefcases and compiling notes, the audience leaving to get lunch, and two medics in white carrying off a comatose Hercen. The image that stuck in her mind, though, was that of Kerri being led back down the stairwell. As he was marched down into the cellar, he glanced up at Armina and gave her his biggest, most triumphant smile.

Sken was right. Armina wasn’t satisfied with revenge, because Kerri’s death wasn’t vengeance. It was seeing him beg for his life that was vengeance, and that was denied to her, denied by that smug, knowing smile on his childlike face, that smile that would beam down at her from the end of a rope, taunting her forever.

----------------------------------------

Armina spent the following morning in Sokea’s cabin, braiding the jill’s headfur as she told her about the trial. “It just doesn’t feel right,” she complained to Sokea. “I mean, he killed so many beasts, and he didn’t even defend himself. It’s like he didn’t even care about being put to death. It was weird.”

"I don't know," Sokea observed. "Kerri never quite felt... right. It was strange, like his soul wasn't quite all there. I don't know how to explain it."

"Sounds accurate enough," muttered Armina.

"I'll bet Sorrona is upset, though. The trial can't have been easy on her."

"What?"

"Didn't you know? She and Kerri have been courting for months now. Surely she was at the trial."

Armina paused, a few strands of blond headfur in her paws. Now that she thought about it, she did remember seeing Sorrona at the trial. She'd been sitting up in the spectator's stands, wearing her typical black garb and threw same stoic expression as her fellow crewbeasts as she watched the trial. Or maybe not stoicism, Armina decided. It had been something different, as if she was merely waiting...

Abruptly Armina dropped the strands of Sokea's headfur and dashed from the room, not pausing to respond to Sokea's confused query. She climbed up the stairs to the main deck and flew to the forecastle, rushing inside. It took her a moment to figure out which room was Sorrona's.

When she threw open the door, her heart sank. The room was pristine. All of the cabinets had been cleared off, even dusted. Armina crossed to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. It was entirely empty save for a small glass bottle. Armina picked it up and examined it. Immediately she recognized it from the trial as the same contraband substance that Kerri had used to create the explosions. She tilted it forward and looked at the cap. Though it was somewhat dented, Armina immediately recognized, imprinted into the metal, the seal of the Minister of Commerce.

A light knock sounded on the door behind her. Armina didn't even turn around. She knew what the message was already. "Minister?" quaked the nervous guardbeast. "I'm afraid there's been an explosion in the dungeons. We're still investigating, but it would appear that the prisoner was killed."

"Of course it would," Armina muttered. She sat the bottle back in the drawer and slid it closed. "Well done Kerri. Well done."

------------------

The air was crisp and chilly, spurred on by a breeze that chased the leaves across the ground. The Imperial Cemetery was covered in the little flakes of orange and yellow, dancing about the tall, silent tombstones, unmoving, unchanging even in the face of the circle of life. There was nobeast else in the cemetery that day. It seemed Armina was the only beast who had any goodbyes to say.

Armina stood in front of one of the tallest tombstones, located at the top of the hill overlooking the Harbor. Here it was only ministers, tombstones to Sken and Mistofelees and all the other deceased leaders of the Harbor. And plenty of open space, of course. After all, there were ministers yet to bury. It felt strange to know that one day she would be buried up here. If she wasn't just another empty grave, of course.

The tombstone was at least ten feet tall, with most of that concentrated in an obelisk pointing to the sky. At the bottom, on a square, extended base, were written two epitaphs.

Here lieth Tanya Rainblade-Ryalor,
Beloved minister, wife, aunt and mother.

Here lieth Jeshal the Ironclaw,
Minister, husband, and captain above all.

Armina started at the grave, feeling as hollow as the coffins beneath it. "I can't do this anymore, Tox," she said listlessly. "I can't spend every waking moment wondering if you're alive or not. Maybe you're trying to communicate with me, I don't know, but it isn't working. If you’re alive, then why won’t you talk to me? And if you’re dead, then why aren’t you leaving me alone?” She sighed deeply and knelt, setting the bouquet of white carnations against the front of the grave. “I hope you and Jeshal are very happy wherever you are,” she whispered.

She knelt there for she knew not how long. Eventually, though, she became aware of a presence. Maybe it was something in the air or an aura, but she knew that she was no longer alone.

“Pretty,” observed Tanya. “But I never did care much fer white. Always ‘fraid that I’d spill summat on’t an’ ruin th’ color.”

Armina didn’t even look up. She didn’t know whether or not to trust her own mind anymore. “Are you really here?” she asked evenly.

Tanya shrugged, moving into Armina’s field of vision. “Are any of us really ‘ere? There ‘re days I like to think not. But even if I’m not ‘ere, ‘t can’ ‘urt ter talk. I’d be yer delusion, after all.”

Armina looked up at her aunt. She looked different. She had gained some weight, not in a bad way, but in a way that made her look something slightly more substantial than skin and bones. It looked like she might actually be getting at least one decent meal per day. Armina reached forward and tapped one sandled footpaw. It felt real enough. At that point Armina decided that the only alternative was that she’d completely cracked, in which case there was nothing she could do about it anyway.

She stood, but she didn’t make any movement toward Tox. She was too torn over whether she wanted to hug her, scream at her, or both. Eventually the two sides of her agreed on a compromise. “Why?” she asked, her heart lodged in her throat and her temper rising.

Tanya shrugged. “Why what? Why’d we leave? Why didn’ we tell y’ ‘bou’ it? Why’d I send yer th’ brushes?”

“All of it,” Armina clarified, none too politely.

Tanya sighed, taking a moment to hop onto the base of her own tombstone. She patted the surface next to her. “Pull up a seat. ‘Gates knows, I don’ mind beas’s sittin’ on me own grave.” There was a note of humor in it that fell on unwelcoming ears. Nonetheless, Armina sat.

Tanya chewed meditatively on her lip as she looked out over the Harbor. The sun was descending on it, turning the town to oranges and purples and setting the sky on fire. “Look at ‘t,” she commented, waving a paw at the vista. “A hundred thousan’ beas’s, all strugglin’ fer a living. An energy all ‘ts own. But it’s a big job, tryin’ ter take care of ‘em. Lots o’ beas’s needin’ ‘elp, an’ there’s never ‘nough t’ go around. Plus there’s bickerin’ wiv th’ other ministries an’ th’ constan’ threat of a knife in yer back. It wears y’ down, ‘Mina.”

There was a pause that hung in the air. For a moment they both watched the gulls circling over the Harbor. “So, eventually, we decided t’ get out,” she commented.

“We?”

“Ol’ Ironbum an’ me. We’ve been keepin’ in closer contact than yer fink. Well, we talked an’ we decided ter leave. Problem is, beas’s don’ stop ‘atin’ yer if y’ leave. Oh, if yer dead they don’ stop neither, but they get over ‘t quicker. So, we contacted Kerri an’ arranged fer ‘im ter fake our deaths. In exchange, we gave ‘im what ‘e wanted most.”

“And that is?”

“A new life,” said Tanya simply. “Y’d be surprised ‘ow many beas’s wan’ that ‘round ‘ere. I reckon yer know abou’ ‘im an’ Sorrona? Well, we gave ‘em lovebirds a fresh start. I jus’ ‘ope they take up a good ways ‘way from us.” She had a slight shiver at the thought.

Armina thought over everything carefully. “The whole trial was a farce.”

“An’ yer know ‘t. We ‘ad ter set it up so tha’ nobeas’ would go lookin’ for ‘im once ‘e was gone.”

“And Kiptooth and the kits?”

“Safe. No, I’m not tellin’ yer where either,” she rebuked gently. “I’m plannin’ ter drop in ‘round a week from now an’ give ‘em a righ’ surprise.”

Armina glared at her aunt. “They had to go to your funeral, Tox,” she said, the anger evident in her voice. “The kits cried the entire time. They thought that they had really lost their last parent.”

Tanya’s smile faded, and for the first time she looked guilt-stricken. “It was th’ safes’ way,” she said quietly, almost making an excuse to herself.

“That changes nothing. You put them through the ‘Gates, Tanya, and that I can’t forgive you for.”

For a moment the statement hung between them. Tanya fidgeted awkwardly on top of her own grave as Armina glared at her. Eventually she gave a feeble attempt at a smile. “Well, I didn’ ask fer forgiveness, did I? An’ I didn’ come ‘ere for it neither, though it sure doesn’ ‘urt. Well, someday you’ll find yerself faced wiv a tough choice, ‘Mina, an’ you’ll ‘ave ter decide ‘ow best ter ‘urt th’ ones yer love.”

Armina hardly felt satisfied with the answer, but the tone of prophecy in Tanya’s voice sent shivers down her spine. She decided to change the subject. “What about the brushes? Why did you send them to me?”

The corner of Tox’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Can’ an aunt give ‘er niece a belated ‘‘Appy Promotions’ present?” When Armina didn’t smile, Tox’s expression dropped into serious concern. “I was worried ‘bout yer, ‘Mina. Yer weren’ doin’ well wiv bein’ cap’n, an’ yer did worse as a minister. Aye, I’ve been watchin’ yer, I ‘ave me means of doin’ it. Well, I saw yer goin’ fer th’ drink real strong an’ lockin’ yerself away, an’ I was concerned. I did th’ same fing when yer dad passed on, couldn’ ‘andle it. I didn’ like seein’ yer makin’ me own mistakes.

“So, I sent yer th’ brushes ter put a bit of life in yer. I figured a message fr’m beyond th’ grave migh’ wake y’ up a bit. Granted, I didn’ fink y’d chase ‘t this far. I guess stubbornness does run in th’ family.”

A lull fell between them again. They watched as the sun dipped one edge into the ocean, turning it to gold. Armina spoke without looking at her aunt. “So what happens now?”

Tanya shrugged. “I dunno. I suppose that’s up t’ yer. Y’ coul’ come wiv me if yer like.” Armina glanced at Tox sharply, trying to see if she was serious. In the golden light of the sunset, Tanya’s face became doubly inscrutable.

“Do you really mean it?”

“Oh, aye.” She paused a moment before adding, “though I’d be disappointed in yer if y’ did.”

Armina was stunned. “What?” she asked, not sure she had heard correctly.

Tanya sighed, settling back on her tombstone some. Her kohl-stained eyes suddenly made her look incredibly weary. “‘Mina, I may not seem it, but I got beat by th’ game. I reached a poin’ where I didn’ fight anymore ‘cause I didn’ know what I was fightin’ for. Now I’m lookin’ ter find a better life. Maybe flower arrangin’,” she said humorously. This time Armina did smile. It had long been a joke between them that if Tanya hadn’t become an assassin, she would have made a wonderful flower arranger.

“But yer,” Tanya continued, “y’ve got a chance yet. Y’ ain’ like me an’ Sken, she was righ’ abou’ that- Oh, aye, I know y’ve met Sken,” she added. “Honestly, yer each remind me of th’ other one at times. But yer a better beas’ than either of us. I fink yer jus’ need somebeas’ ter tell yer it sometimes.” She put one paw on Armina’s shoulder, and surprisingly Armina did not fight it. Instead, driven by some deep, hidden yearning for affection, she scooted closer, draping Tanya’s arm about her and resting her head on her aunt’s shoulder. Tanya seemed surprised for a moment before wrapping her arm about the young vixen.

The sun dipped into the sea, and the golds, oranges and purples retreated to the horizon, leaving the world in blue shadows. They observed all this for a moment before Armina spoke.

“Tox?”

“Mmm?”

“Did you really marry Jeshal? I mean, actually marry him?”

Tox laughed, though it was high and a little uneasy. “‘Gates, th’ quest’ns yer ask sometimes!...” She stroked Armina’s back as she thought. “Don’ you fink abou’ that ol’ sourfox none,” she advised. “He weren’ ever any good fer y’ anyway. No, that isn’ yer life now, ‘Mina. Yer shoul’ go find yerself a better todd. Go find Bridger or Tomias, but fer ‘Gates sake, pick one an’ stick wiv ‘im!” Armina shook her head, marvelling at how Tox had managed to so thoroughly avoid answering the question.

At last, as the dusk fell upon them, Tanya gently released her niece and hopped down from her own tombstone. She patted the smooth stone affectionately. “Righ’ nice monumen’,” she observed. “I migh’ even consider takin’ it wiv me. Imagine th’ ruckus in town if it jus’ disappeared one night!” She smiled wickedly at the thought.

Armina gave her a smile in return, now more at ease. “Where will you go?”

“‘Ome,” Tanya said with finality. “It’s th’ only place worth goin’ ter now.”

Armina nodded, understanding. “Good luck, Tox,” she whispered. Suddenly she remembered something. “Oh, Tox?”

“Mmm?”

“Could you do me one little favor?”

“That depends on what ‘t is.”

Armina told her.

Tanya’s grin widened in response. “That won’ be a problem at all, Mina.”

Armina sighed in relief. “Thank you, Tox,” she said sincerely.

Tanya stepped forward, putting her paws on her niece’s shoulder. She examined Armina’s face affectionately. “Y’ll grow up strong an’ beautiful, ‘Mina, I know it,” she whispered, her eyes gazing into Armina’s own. “An’ even though yer won’ see me, I ‘ope yer remember that I’m there an’ I’m proud of yer.” They hung there for a moment, paused in the first and last moment of true communication between them.

Tanya clapped Armina’s shoulder once before turning away. “Take care of Khan fer me, woul’ yer?” she called over her shoulder. “Tha’ ol’ bear don’ even know ‘ow ter tie ‘is own shoes wivout ‘elp, an’ ‘e’ll need plenty of that.”

“Khan?” asked Armina, confused. “Wait,” she called after her aunt, “what does Khan have to do with anything?”

“More than yer fink!” was the called reply, and Armina knew she would get nothing further on the matter.

“Wait,” she suddenly remembered, digging in her pocket. She pulled out the iron key recovered from Tanya’s desk. “Tanya, what’s this key?!” she hollered, cupping her paw around her mouth.

Tanya turned, having just opened the gate to the forest path. In the twilight, Armina could have sworn she saw Tanya smile. “Honestly, ‘Mina,” she called back, her tone teasing, “did yer never know yer aunt at all?”

With that she turned and disappeared into the trees. Armina watched as the forest gates swung closed behind her, latching with a final, quiet click.

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Armina leaned on the doorway, rapping her knuckles against the open door.

Sokea glanced over her shoulder, more for politeness’s sake than anything. “Armina?” she asked.

Armina shook her head and chuckled. “I still have no clue how you do that.”

“Your breathing sounds different than others',” Sokea explained. She forced a dress into a small travel case. Armina noted the action.

“You’re leaving?”

“Kiptooth sent a letter. He said he was able to clear my travel visa with the Fyadorian authorities, so I can come and join him and the kits.” She was positively glowing with happiness at the thought.

Armina smiled, deciding not to mention that the jill wouldn’t be going to Fyador, and that Kiptooth had played little role in the arrangements. “And, of course, seeing a certain young jack again will be rather nice,” she teased.

Sokea blushed furiously. “Don’t -hic!- make fun of me!”

Armina laughed lightly. “Cheer up, I’m kidding.” She walked forward and placed her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “You two are lucky to have each other,” she said honestly. “I approve.”

Sokea blushed again, but this time not as furiously. “Oh, you are impossible,” she muttered without any real force.

Armina helped Sokea to carry her bags to her new ship. “So promise me you’ll write,” Armina asked.

“Oh, twice a day. How could I do anything less?”

“And don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

“Armina!”

“I’m kidding!”

“Honestly, I’ll make you and the bridesmaids wear puce for that.”

Armina laughed at this. “You have improved!” she commented delightedly. “But how would you know if we complied?”

“I’d ask the guests and have them pelt you with cake if you didn’t.”

“Oh, you are wicked!”

“I learn from the best.”

When Sokea set sail, Armina watched her go. Sokea stood at the stern and waved goodbye to her friend as the ship pulled out of the harbour. Even though she knew Sokea couldn’t see her, Armina waved back.

For the first time in a long time, Armina felt as if she’d done something right.

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“Armina! The clerks are here for your requisition slips.”

“They’re on the desk!” Armina called out. She was on her floor, picking up tiny map pins one by one. She had accidentally knocked a box off the desk, and now she was trying to recover them. The gentle sway of the ship was not helping matters.

From beneath the desk Armina saw Julia’s red footpaws enter the room. They paused for a moment as Julia rifled through the pages. When she was done, she knelt at looked at Armina from beside the desk. “Once you’re ready to rejoin the elevated world, please find me,” she said drily. “We still need a new cook, unless you’ve grown fond of Jeb’s Cockroach Surprise.”

Armina stuck her tongue out at Julia as the older vixen exited the room. She continued to pick up her pins, at last depositing the last of them in their tiny tin. Satisfied, she made to stand.

Whump!

Stars burst before Armina’s eyes. She cupped a paw to the back of her head, feeling it swelling. ‘Gates, who made these desks so hard?

Hard. Desk. Immediately Armina’s eyes shot open. She quickly scooted out from under the desk, peering along the strip of wood just below the surface itself. Yes, just like with the MinoWar desk, this desk was slightly thicker than could be accounted for. And in this one, embedded in cast iron, was a tiny keyhole.

Armina felt over her pockets for the key she had carried with her everywhere for the past week. When she at last got it, her pawfingers trembled so badly that she nearly dropped it. At last she managed to slide it in, the tumblers clicking around it. Her whole body trembling now, Armina forced her paw to turn the key clockwise. The tumblers rolled until she had turned the key in a full circle, and there they locked.

Clumsily Armina pulled at the tiny drawer, nearly yanking it from the whole desk. This one slid out much more easily. Armina lifted away the metal plate to reveal a small stack of documents. She pulled them out, blowing the dust from them before reading the title of the first one:

The Last Will and Testament of Tanya Sabhal Rainblade-Ryalor.

Armina closed her eyes, tears welling under her eyelids. Thank you, Tox. Thank you for everything. And in that moment, she knew that she would be alright.


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There are so many beasts who deserve thanks in this, but the top ones are definitely Tanya Rainblade-Ryalor and Jeshal the Ironclaw. Above all others, I cite you two as my top writing influences, and I can only try to match your magic. I don’t need to say you’ll be sorely missed; you two are already. Many happy voyages to you both.

Thanks also go to Sken/Zakim for an absolutely fantastic Sken and ‘Mina thread (that was a complete dream come true for me), and to Kaden for impacting my characters in so many ways. You two are wonderful. I hope there are many more threads in store for you both.

Of course, a big thanks goes to all the writers of the Vulpine Imperium. You guys make the VI such a wonderful place. It’s honestly my favorite location not on this earth thanks to you guys.

And, of course, a big thanks goes to Brian Jacques, the master whose vision started it all. May you be welcomed into the big red abbey in the sky.

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Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ):

Q: Jeshal and Tox already wrote a closing story for their two main characters. Why did you write this then?

A. Because the story wasn’t yet concluded. Though Tox and Jeshal had been removed from the picture, there was nothing said about what happened to all of their alts, or about the impact it would leave on the Imperium. I decided to tell that story myself.

Q. Why was Tox portrayed as being so edgy in the backstory?

A. I really wanted to explore a different side of Tox than was normally shown on the VI (at least on the Hide), especially the Last Quartermaster version of Tox. In my head, that part of Tox was very paranoid and scheming, as well she should be. I decided to reflect that in the treasure hunt for secrets and the convoluted nature of the scheme.

Q. What’s the story behind the Jeshal/Armina kiss?

A. Oh, that. Well, that was a development that I wanted to bring into Commercial Gain, but the thread died with Jeshal’s retirement from the site. Since it was so key to the whole Jeshal/Armina relationship, I asked Jeshal for permission and she graciously allowed me to put it in.

Q. What were all the hints about Khan’s involvement in the drama?

A. Ah, you’d like to know that, wouldn’t you? Just follow the Bridger/’Mina threads and it will become apparent :3

Q. Why did Kerri go through trial if Sorrona could have freed him at any moment?

A. Because I believe that Kerri has a flair for the dramatic. It amused him to put the Harbor in a flurry, knowing full well that his escape was all but assured. He was such a fun character to write, I have to hug Toxy for giving me permission.

Q. What’s with the disgustingly sentimental farewell to Sokea?

A. Don’t bash. In many ways she’s my favorite character because she’s not corrupted like the others. When Tanya left and took Lin with her, I knew it was time to give her a gentle goodbye. They’re much happier together than she would be with me.

Q. So, are Tox and Jeshal actually married?

A. [Redacted by order of the Minister of War]