The gang were a mean bunch who never would have tolerated each other, if it weren’t for Rutty’s cruel and strict rule over them. When the rat wasn’t around, the others would often attack each other, as they couldn’t quench their thirst for nastiness.
Frustrated that Letcho never reacted to his attacks, no matter how deep the barbed stinger stung, Scrapsie jumped atop Smelka instead. “Leave her alone!” Rutty said, and swatted him off. “I’ve told you before, Smelka is a sensitive skunklen who must to be dealt with carefully. We need her to handle the stink-bomb weaponry.”
“Come on, she won’t feel a thing. Just one pinch!” Scrapsie, a true sinister crustacean in its prime, didn’t want to give up. Smelka lifted her nose and tail ever so slightly. She caught Rutty’s stare from the corner of her eye, and lowered her stripe.
“Don’t have it in you to bomb one of us, Smelka?” Scrapsie taunted, hiding behind Letcho’s scales in case the skunklen unloaded by surprise. No one in the gang was never really sure of the other’s motives – or their own, for that matter.
“Lay off the orphan. Leave her be for now,” Rutty called out, knowing how much Smelka smarted when she was reminded she was an orphan. Letcho constantly teased her, telling her that she would never grow as tough as the others in the gang.
“Stop calling me that!” she blurted out in tears. But Letcho would never let her forget that no one except Rutty had ever cared about her, and that as an infant she had been wrapped in bark and abandoned in an alley outside the city. Rutty had found her and raised her in a pile of ashes behind the castle where they lived, feeding her toasted crawler crisps until she grew strong. It became her favorite snack.
Thus the skunklen had become part of Rutty’s dark and exciting world. How could she not idolize the strong and fearless rodent with his hypnotizing snicker and his scent like the fire that sometimes burned near the ash bed of her infancy?
She even cherished watching his moonlit shadow as it cast upon the walls above the grate, as he occasionally scurried out of the sewer on some secret business matters. But she never really understood the ways of her leader.
***
That is because Rutty was, like Meowlen, not from around these parts. He had another life with important responsibilities. During the daylight hours, he transformed into a respectable citizen of Kavalon, known as Rutland Ratkin, Advisor to Captain Daltoid Swaggelot, the present Ruler of Kavalon. In the daylight, Rutland meandered the city streets with an undeniable confidence. He was self-assured, smart and most certainly loathed by those who were jealous and didn’t like his arrogant manner.
Dressed impeccably and wearing stone-toed boots to hide his claw-like feet. He would shuffle along the streets of Kavalon saying to himself – or anyone one else who cared to listen – “No one can be slicker or slimier than I … In fact, I am always right, never wrong. That’s just the way it is!” Then he twisted his moustache until it hurt.
But when the clock chimed in the city square at dusk, he once again became the spineless rat, living the life he preferred – nasty and dirty, trolling the sewers and pipes while the city slept.
He yanked out one of his whiskers, admiring its wiry spring and length, and scaled his yellowing two front teeth with it, then licked his face clean. He took a minute to savor a comment he had overheard in the alleys off of Main Street. “Handsome!” That’s what those gossiping rodents said. “The rodent’s rodent, that rat is!” Rutty grinned and pulled hard on another whisker until it came out.
“Pain is so irritably tempting to a rat,” he spat.
***
Whinniston held strong, though near collapse, as sweat trickled down his flanks. He managed to slow from a trot to a walk without breaking stride, and then a complete stop, his knees aquiver. The ride was over, at least for now.
“Everyone OK?” Whinniston said. “I may not be polished to a sheen with ripped muscles, but I still exhibit definition, and know how to move fast when it matters most.”
He nuzzled his shoulder while flexing it to show the others he was still in his prime. “You should have seen me during my rodeo days. I could twist and turn, fast like this. Er ... not a good move,” he groaned, and stretched to rub his tender hindquarters against a post, causing Maximojo to slide off. He landed on two feet and gave Whinniston an appreciative pat.
“Well we made it this far, we must be close. Let’s see,” Maximojo said, flipping open his PolyMatrixor.
Woofster slowly dismounted. “It would have been better to do that after I was off!” he said panting, and wiped his nose. All that jostling made his bones ache even more, and he gave out a little woof. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He rubbed his hip, “Hard-working guards never feel a thing. I’m a tough-coated dog, no need to worry about me.”
Glitta helped Meowlen wriggle free out of the braided mane. The cat sprang over Whinniston’s side and landed elegantly on two feet. “That was a breath of fresh air,” she said. “A fast-footed Whinn. I should have packed a saddle. It’s just not my thing to ride bareback on a horse.” She caught herself swaying a little, and covered her wooziness by examining her nails. “Meowlowins! I broke another one!” she sniffed. “I should have used Venus Violet, then none of this would have happened. It doesn’t chip and it strengthens the nail bed.”
“I’ll make it up to you somehow,” Whinny told her.
“Someday you’ll understand the travel needs of a finicky feline,” she said, and retracted the remaining nails. “Quite the wild breeze back there,” she said, combing her hair. “Tremendous tunes, Glitta! You sure have a flair for celestial classics.”
Maximojo retrieved the map he was looking for on the PolyMatrixor. He transposed the hologram from the screen and projected it outward before his eyes. The map shimmered to the touch as he traced the assigned route.
“Looks like we have reached the outskirts of McFee’s estate,” he said. “Perhaps we might want to take a break first. We have a long hike inland.”
Meowlen led the troop to a stream by the side of the road where they took a cooling sip, and then piled alongside each other on the curb by the side of the road. Woofster passed around some of Madame Dewitt’s scrumptious biscuits that he had stored in his sack, explaining how he had snatched them from Madame Dewitt’s cupboard for this trip.
Woofster explained, “She didn’t even know that I could reach the jar in the cupboard. I stood on a chair on my hind legs.” He imitated his posture in the kitchen, but then decided to keep quiet and eat. Besides, he was the only one who was actually enjoying them. Even Glitta dimmed every time she flew past. “I have my own delights,” she flickered. Woofster got the hint that it just wasn’t her thing, and stopped waving them at her.
Whinniston meandered along on the grass, grazing to replenish his strength for another swift ride. “They haven’t seen nothing yet,” he thought. “Millicent and bridle-free at last!”
Maximojo’s sniffer went back on alert. “Could that possibly be spacecakes?”
Meowlen retrieved a few from her travel sack and waved them under his nose. “I whipped them up just for you!” she said, and pulled out her own nibbles. “Glazed wafers travel purrr-fectly.”
“There are spacecakes, and then there is celestial cuisine, Mojo!” Glitta said. “Celestial cuisine is your favorite, and it’s even tastier. I can get some from home and be back in no time!” She fueled up to rocket home, accidently emitting fireworks that rattled the treetops and sent a flock of birds into flight.
Meowlen dodged the falling branches around her and leapt onto Whinniston.
“Ease up on those fancy nails, Meowlen. Claws in. Make a fist. Whinny will take care of things.” His whole body was quivering. “She is fussy,” Whinniston thought.
“Remember when trouble stirs, you can always count on this dog to make things right,” Woofster said. He felt the urge to take charge. “Top dog after Maximojo. Move over. Make way. Hey Glitta! How about working things out with Meowlen?” She was busy throwing around a few
glow balls at a tree to calm herself, and then brushed past the cat’s shoulder.
“Sorry, Meowlen!” Glitta apologized. Meowlen turned the other cheek and jumped off Whinniston. “Accepted,” Meowlen said, dusting the glitter off the rim of her sunhat. She couldn’t blame Glitta from being jealous, after all she was the finest baker of spacecakes on this side of the galaxy.
Maximojo tossed the PolyMatrixor into his pack. “We’re ready to go, but we need to have a vote. Shall we walk from here?” Everyone agreed except Whinniston, who promised that he would take it slow, but Woofster reassured him they all needed the exercise. “I need to keep moving so my joints don’t seize up,” he said.
Everyone packed up. Glitta and Meowlen took the lead side by side. Maximojo knew better than to get between them. They turned a sharp bend and the road ended, forcing them to hike an overgrown dirt trail leading away from an eerie, dense forest whose swaying trees towered over the branches’ shadows in the distance. “Let’s get off the path and go through the bush,” Meowlen said. “I prefer the shortest route in these shoes.”
Maximojo agreed on the short cut to the McFee estate, as they were already late.
“A little spooky if you ask me,” Whinniston said, swishing his tail. His ears turned forward. “I heard some rustling in the woods. Listen!”
“It has to be scary to keep the unwanted away, Whinny,” Meowlen said. She led them into a patch of thick moss that got her velvet slippers wet, which she had chosen for comfort on long hikes. She took them off and crept forward cautiously. She spied a sign nearly hidden behind a bush that, at first glance, looked delicate. But beneath its flowers lay poisonous needles. Meowlen knew what her fate would be if she picked a bud, and her hair stood on end.
“This is where I take charge, when one of my lives are at stake of being poisoned,” she said. The moss began to spread fast over the words on the warning sign. Meowlen picked up a rock in her hind claw and threw it forcefully, almost shattering the sign. The moss retreated into the underbrush and revealed the sign.
PRIVATE PROPERTY. ESTATE OF MASTER MCFEE. UNAUTHORIZED TRESPASSERS WELCOME. NO TURNING BACK NOW. FEROCIOUS DOG ON PATROL.
Meowlen shrugged, examining her nails for casualties.
“Perfect back-claw pitch,” Woofster said. “I can take it from this point on.” He raised one ear. “I know the routine now step aside everyone.”
Amazed, Whinniston snorted and turned to Meowlen, impressed with her precision. “Good throw, Meowlen!” and thought, “That cat sure is a fast mover and shaker, but it’s her travel wear that stumps me. All she really needs is a good pair of shoes, like mine.”
“I can show you a few good moves, Whinny. Now steady yourself like this, then raise your back legs up in one swoop.” Meowlen did a handstand in her stylish sportswear. Whinniston attempted to imitate her, arched his back in a cat pose, flung his back hooves up, and almost pulled an essential muscle. “Er … maybe another time when we are not so busy.”
“Ahem! Stand aside. I’m coming through,” Woofster said. “Let me handle this. Stay clear, it might be dangerous. I’m top guard dog and I hear a noise.” He pushed the others aside and strutted to the fence, which began shaking violently before he even touched it. “Barbed wire. Good choice. Nice metal-weaving work.” Then he touched it and jumped. “It’s charged,” he said, putting his paw in his mouth to ease the sting. He crouched low, stretching out his neck and slowly crept along the fence. Then, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, he let out a lengthy howl and waited for a reply. The silence was broken with a sharp yodel.
A patrol dog appeared on the other side of the fence. “Well, you finally made. What took you so long? A little late are we?”
“You should have sniffed us out at the sign post,” Woofster said. “It’s your territory. Not on top of things?”
The other dog snorted, sniffer up. “Just doing my job. Doing my job. Yo! I heard you had a run in with the authorities in the Kingdom, if I got the story right. Created a commotion.”
“Your timing must be off,” Woofster said. “Just in and out of the city to the outskirts. and we weren’t trouble at all. Nothing is written across my forehead. See?”
“We should have stayed and shopped,” Meowlen exclaimed, feeling unappreciated for the sacrifice she had made in order to reach their destination on schedule.
“Let’s start from the top. I’m chief patrol dog. Manford – that’s me. You can call me Mannie – Double ‘N’. Remember that. Two N’s. Don’t forget.” Mannie was a sleek-legged canine from pedigree ancestry. He had big eyes, a long nose, drooping jowls and ears that came to a point. It was clear he was not an ordinary spotted short-haired purebred. He spoke smartly and swung his tail to the sound of his voice.
“My Master and the others have anxiously been awaiting your team. It appears you are a little late. Understandable.” He looked at Whinniston who side-kicked the fence. “I suppose you ran into lots of obstacles, traffic out of the city.” Whinniston assured him that had been the case and nothing else.
Let me introduce everyone,” Woofster said. “Maximojo, Meowlen and Whinniston, whom you just met. Maximojo is a cosmic canine, and my hero. Meowlen is accepting of us dogs – she hasn’t hissed at me once. Whinniston is a little irritable lately, but don’t be concerned. Oh, and that’s Glitta, a light wand. She enjoys flittering about. You’ll get used to her just as long as you keep the sparkles out of your eyes. Just to keep the record straight, Maximojo and the wand are from outer space – out there.” Woofster looked up to be sure Mannie got it. “And I am Woofster.” He wrinkled his brow to inspect the ground. “And by the looks of it we are probably related somehow in a galaxy once removed. Similar paw prints.”
Mannie’s rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen everything on duty, Woofster. Let’s get a move on.” He decided to keep a close eye on that cat, as he knew from experience, they were temperamental. Especially one that looked like her.
Glitta scattered glitter over the know-it-all guard to inspire a little playfulness. Mannie rubbed his eyes, turned off the alarm and unlatched the gate. It creaked open, ushering the guests in over the sponge-like undergrowth.
“This way. Now hurry up before we wake anything that is better not disturbed!” Mannie stumbled and quickly regained his strut.
“Loose-footed? Slip on something?” Woofster said.
Mannie paid no attention, and thought, “I’ve been exposed to visitors of every shape and size. Even our other visitors, the Starrings, the supposed society of solar flares positioned in the skies to keep gravity intact are quite odd-looking. I hear they are not tough enough for the ‘change’. The Master doesn’t like visitors. They’ll find out soon enough what’s in store for them. Nothing surprised Mannie anymore except perhaps that cat.” He was guarded, but taken by her mystique.
They followed Mannie along a path peppered with jagged rocks that pulsated as they passed. Maximojo took the lead with Glitta, who blasted anything that looked suspicious. “It’s best not to disturb anything!” Mannie warned. The rocks were interspersed with wild-looking plants whose thorns pointed in every direction and were festooned with furry-berries that burst at the seams, spurting juice everywhere.
“Such a smelly odor,” Meowlen said, pinching her nose and wiping off the splatter. “It stained!” she said, aghast, and quickly changed into another outfit.
As they walked along, spiked shrubs broke through the ground beside them, opening their blossoms. Snaky vines grew up all around them. “Be careful of those sliders,” Mannie warned. “They’ll trip you up if they had a chance.” Everyone quickened their pace to avoid the grabbing vines lashing out at them.
“I knew they couldn’t keep up with Mannie, especially that dog,” Mannie thought. He batted away a dense cloud of heavy-weighted stingers to clear the way for the newcomers. The lethal Waspstens’ mesh wings could hardly keep their scratchy fur-jacket bodies in the air, and bounced away crazily with each whack.
“Wouldn’t want our guests to get stung,” Mannie thought. “They are fair game, I suppose, when we’re in the stingers’ territory, but not while Mannie is on duty. My Master would be furious if I did not take precious care of the guests.” He knew better than to risk losing those invited to his Master’s estate, although some never left anyway for reasons other than the Waspstens’ vile attacks.
“This incline challenges my stride in this sudden blistering heat at night,” Whinniston said. The rocks lining the walkway began to glow a fiery hot and soon turned into coal and crackled. Mannie looked at the moon and led everyone onto an alternate path. “This way. It’s a shortcut. My Master must be getting impatient.” Mannie was not surprised.
The scenery changed with every step, and Whinniston, lagging far behind, kept comparing it to his farmland. Glitta sent out solar flares to light the way, which awakened unseen creatures that made noises. Even Mannie picked up his pace.
“Keep the lights low around the gardens,” Mannie said. He was beginning to get concerned in the dark of awakening the nameless Others.
Maximojo and the Wand of Light Page 5