by Adam Browne
Bvvvt!
Someone else hurriedly pushed their way into the crowded kitchen, an elegant, light brown wolfess in a fluffy pink dressing gown. She took in the devastation with her violet eyes, took in the honey-flecked Howler Linus.
“I see you’ve met our pet bee,” she chuckled.
Linus plucked uselessly at his sticky cloak, “It seems so, Miss… uh….”
“Olivia,” she sniffed, “Olivia Blake.”
*
The door opened, but Meryl Stroud ignored it and continued to read.
“I have rode the wind,” she said, “seen forests far below, met great beasts and small. I have kissed the sun, felt its warmth on my wings. I have known love with my mate and shared joy at their smile. And yet there is so much more beyond the horizon, so much yet to see and do! This pond is but a puddle in a great ocean of green. Alas, I cannot go on. My time is done.’
Slowly, the nurse closed the book and stood up from her stool. She hailed Janoah and Silvermane with the simple ALPHA paw-gesture.
“Prefects,” she said, with little enthusiasm.
“Miss Stroud,” Silvermane replied, stepping inside ahead of Janoah, as rank dictated. “Sorry to disturb your work, but Rafe has a guest.”
“He knows,” Meryl replied.
Rufus entered the room after Silvermane and Janoah. It was quite dark, the only light source being a stark imperium lamp mounted on the wall. As his eyes adjusted, Rufus saw a big comfy chair and a bed. Slumped in the chair, mighty, muscled shoulders wrapped in a blanket, was a huge, dark brown wolf, his eyes covered by a tidy blindfold. The young wolfen nurse standing by him wore a modest black dress and white apron, her neck cosseted in a tall collar and cravat. She had a kind, pure-grey face, etched with worry.
Silvermane turned his gaze on the wolf in the chair and enquired, “How are you, Rafe?”
Rafe cocked his head slightly, “Much better, sir.”
“You seem perkier, to be sure. Doctor Josef’s therapy must be paying off.”
“I think so, sir. Meryl’s been helping too.”
“Indeed, Miss Stroud is most assiduous in her care,” Silvermane agreed. “The Alpha himself sends his regards.”
Nodding, Rafe turned his head a little, “Jan?”
Janoah grinned with delight and approached. As the Prefect passed her, Nurse Meryl could hardly disguise the look of disgust – Rufus saw it, if nobody else.
Whether she noticed it or not, Janoah sat on the arm of Rafe’s chair and ran a paw round the back of his big head, stroking his muscled neck. “There’s a special Howler here to see you, Stenton,” she whispered.
“I know,” Rafe said, without eyes to see, “I felt him coming a mile away. Meryl didn’t believe me.”
Janoah tutted, “She doesn’t understand your power.”
Meryl dipped her chin to her cravat, and likely bit her tongue.
Rafe looked thoughtful. “It’s that… that red-furred wolf from the other day, ‘en it?”
“Yes.”
“He’s really strong, Jan.”
Janoah expected to see Rufus smile as he usually did when flattered, but he remained stony-faced. “Don’t take anything he says to you too seriously, will you?” she told Rafe.
With a sniff, Rufus stepped into the room, but instead of going straight to Rafe, as everyone expected, he veered towards Nurse Meryl.
“You care for this wolf, Miss Stroud?” he asked her.
“Yes, Howler,” Meryl replied, with a tiny curtsy.
Rufus nodded, “How long has he been averse to light?”
Surprised to be asked, Meryl said, “Ever since his induction,” adding dejectedly, “It’s gotten much worse since last week’s... overreaching. It comes and goes, but it’s never been this bad before.”
“The rot is an uphill struggle,” Rufus explained, “though it has its sunny vales on the way. I’m sure you’re one of those vales, Miss Stroud.”
Meryl smiled bashfully. “Are you…” she began, faltered a moment, then continued, “Grand Howler Rufus Valerio?”
A nod.
Meryl let out a tiny gasp of amazement and fought to hold back a giddy smile. “Oh! It’s an honour to meet you, sir. I-I-I’ve read all your works on the rot.”
Rufus winked. “As Janoah here says, you shouldn’t take anything I say too seriously.”
The youthful Meryl could but say, “You’re the reason I became a nurse, sir.”
“Then I’m the honoured one,” Rufus assured her.
He turned to Rafe, a giant of a wolf, even whilst seated, hunched like an old beast over a fire. He was wearing some breeches with silk coverings up to the knee, but nothing else besides that blanket and blindfold. His rippling hide was in poor condition, his paws bandaged from burns, a far cry from the handsome, well-groomed youth Rufus remembered from The Warren.
Rufus’s eyes strayed to Janoah, hovering over her creation, stroking his neck and smiling at her husband as if by snatching this prize she had won some great victory over him.
Without a word, Rufus turned away made for the exit. Janoah shot to her feet. “Is that it?” she spat.
“I’ve seen him, or what’s left of him,” Rufus huffed, leaning on the doorframe long enough to add, “When this is over, I… I never want to see you again,” Rufus told her, slipping into the corridor.
Glancing at the dumbstruck Janoah, Silvermane stormed after Rufus. “Where are you going?” he demanded, shouting down the stark, white corridor. “Howler!”
“Shame on you!” Rufus spat, turning and looking Silvermane up and down. “Both of you. You’ve destroyed that poor boy and for what? To further your own careers in this miserable pile the Den Fathers misnamed ‘ALPHA’?”
Silvermane visibly winced. “You’re upset, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he growled. “You need to understand what Rafe is-”
“Bruno!” Rufus barked, looking down. “He’s… he was called Bruno,” he said, fists trembling by his sides. “Such a nice young wolf, Silvermane; so kind and funny.”
Silvermane nodded sagely, “He remains so.”
Rufus snorted in disbelief.
“He bears his burden with grace,” Silver continued. “He’s a true pure-blood, an exceptional one. He must have come from two powerful Howlers. The chances of him even surviving to birth were a thousand to one, let alone without madness or deformity-”
“Remember who you’re talking to, Silver.”
“I’m well aware, sir! Likewise, don’t insult my intelligence by throwing a pique of moral outrage, as if you were after Rafe yourself for any other reason-”
“I would have inducted him gently!” Rufus protested. “Extended his life, not pushed him until he burnt out or went mad. Ulf have mercy on you if he ever does, you will be as ash in a gale before his might.” Stepping back, Red-mist shook his head, “Where were you during the war, eh? How ironic that it’s ALPHA who’s learnt nothing. When the Den Fathers realise what you’re doing they’ll stop you, if not disband you for good.”
Like a thundercloud skirting the horizon, Silvermane rumbled back, “If one Eisenwolf frightens them so much they can close the loophole during the Summit. They can shut down ALPHA too if they want. Until then, we will continue to fight for the Republic and give the packs the privilege of choice – Amael won’t. Janoah says he’s going to lift the Lupan Laws, bring back Howler marriage and all that goes with it, no doubt Eisenwolves included.”
The Grand Howler and the Grand Prefect stood in brooding silence.
Janoah entered the corridor. Closing Rafe’s door she walked halfway over and said to Rufus, “Finished, dearest?”
Red-mist composed himself, wiping his eyes, “Let’s just get this circus on the road shall we?”
Silvermane glanced between them. “You’re going to help us?” he asked Rufus.
“Though it turns my stomach to line up with ALPHA, I see no other choice.”
With a sigh of relief, Silvermane said, “This has to be con
vincing, Rufus.”
“I know.”
“Once we begin I can give nothing away, not even to save you.”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Remember, the fable is the code. Wait for-”
“Oh get on with it, wolf, before I change my mind!”
Clearing his throat and taking a nervous breath, Silvermane rolled his neck and shoulders. “Well, you’d better hit me, then. Just don’t kill me, Rufus.”
“It’s more likely your Eisenwolf’ll kill me, Silvermane.”
“You know him. You know he’s not that kind of wolf.”
“I knew him,” Rufus corrected pointedly.
Not wishing to be drawn into a second argument, Silvermane merely nodded. He spread his paws and grimaced, bearing himself to harm. “For Ulf’s sake, do it!” he snarled.
“Gladly.”
Pff-zzzt!!
With a whining snap of white-hot plasma, Rufus thumped Silvermane in the chest. The sizeable wolf left the floor behind and hit the wall, before flopping to the ground, his black cloak smoking from the blow.
He was out cold!
Rufus huffed, “My, that was satisfying.” Shaking his throbbing paw he looked down the corridor, at Janoah.
He nodded. She nodded.
“Help!” Janoah cried, drawing her rapier and striding down the corridor towards Rufus. “Stenton!”
Rafe shouted through the door, “Jan?”
Husband and wife met halfway, Janoah half-heartedly thrusting her imperium-laced rapier at Rufus, fully expecting him to avoid it. To her gasp of shock, he merely allowed the needle-like blade to skewer his left shoulder. He snarled in pain, but stood firm.
Janoah narrowed her green eyes. “Fool,” she chided.
“Just… making it convincing, Jan,” he laughed. Grasping her flexible kristahl sword-blade in his right paw, the wincing Rufus seethed, “Brace yourself, wife.”
“Stop showing off and do it.”
Rufus obliged. A spark of imperious plasma erupted from his paw and raced down Janoah’s conductive sword, blowing her down the hall and sending her weapon spiralling away. She slid to a halt at the feet of a huge brown wolf – Rafe.
“Jan!” he yelped, kneeling down and cradling her limp body. “Jan? You all right?”
No reply, save a groan.
With a whine and a growl, Rafe looked up with his blindfolded eyes, right where Rufus was standing, as if he could see him clear as day through the cloth.
Putting Janoah down and raising a fist, Rafe strode towards Rufus, a big, dark tower of muscle and sinew, overflowing with imperium and rage. With every step Rufus could feel the youth’s crackling corona growing, its coils penetrating his flesh down to the bone, such warmth, such strength.
Meryl stepped out into the corridor, “No Rafe!”
Undeterred, Rafe cast his paw at Rufus. The windows and imperium lamps between them exploded, the walls cracked and buckled, even the very air warped and twisted. Reaching Rufus in an instant, the twisting coronal tidal wave blew him off his feet and swept him down the corridor. Bouncing, rolling, whining and yelping, Rufus didn’t stop until he slammed into the door at the far end and fell on his side.
Silence.
The furious Rafe loomed over the dizzy Howler, his mighty body silhouetted by a flickering lamp, his right paw licked by imperious plasma. As he raised his right arm to finish the job and send Rufus out of the world, Meryl ran in and hugged him tight.
“Rafe stop it!” she wept, nuzzling into his stomach. “Please don’t kill him! Please!”
“Meryl?”
“Please! This isn’t you. You’re a good wolf. Don’t let the rot win.”
The plasma left Rafe’s paws and he held Meryl close.
That was the last Rufus saw.
Chapter 23
Rejoining the world of wakefulness, Linus watched dawn nuzzle into Professor Heath’s flat, its sunny rays splaying out above the thick velvety curtains like sheets of ephemeral gold. He listened to Lupa rising, to motor cars trundling by and newspaper sellers shouting headlines – it was impossible to make out what they were saying, muffled as they were by the window and doubtless thick, fresh snow.
Linus thought about last night; Heath, Sara, Toggle, getting splattered with honey. Heath had offered to wash the Howler’s cloak whilst Linus and the girls partook of a nightcap of hot chocolate. Not much was said, outside of humorous remarks about Toggle’s mischief and expressing worry over Rufus, for it was very late and everyone had elected to turn in, even Toggle. Plump with stolen honey, the great bee had put herself to bed in Sara and Olivia’s room, clinging to the wall of all places. Linus had settled for the sofa in the living room. The plush antique proved perfectly adequate, especially since Linus, being somewhat short for a wolf, fitted easily between the arms.
Yawning and stretching, Linus set aside his blanket and swung his legs off the sofa. He hastily dressed, legs into greaves, feet into boots, smart white gaiters clipped over both. Donning his many-buttoned tunic, he crept over to the living room’s hearth where his red mantle was drying by its warm glow. After checking the thick imperium-weave was dry, Linus went to fetch his Bloodfang brooch from the coffee table.
It was missing.
Glancing around his immediate space, Linus got down on all fours and peered underneath the table.
“It’s here,” someone volunteered.
Linus jumped up to find Olivia standing in the kitchen door, snug in a pink dressing gown and turning Linus’s brooch over in her brown paws.
“I was just looking at it,” she excused.
Clearing his throat, Linus hurriedly threw his hooded Howler mantle over his shoulders. He temporarily secured the final fold at his left shoulder with his fingers, pinching the fabric.
Smiling, Olivia walked over to him, proving taller by a head. The stocky Linus held out his left paw to receive his brooch, but this elegant wolfess boldly brushed aside both his paws and pinned his mantle for him.
“There,” she chirped, brushing a paw on Linus’s smartly-buttoned torso.
For a second the Howler could swear the red-imperium fang on his brooch had glowed rather brighter than normal. He quickly checked it. A trick of the light, perhaps?
“Did I pin it right?” Olivia asked, uncertain of Linus’s reaction.
“Yes,” he replied, twisting a little. “Thank you.”
“I hear they’re tricky, these mantles.”
“It’s fine, really.”
Raising her chin proudly, Olivia turned around and strolled into Professor Heath’s kitchen, as if she owned the place.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked, disappearing round the door. “I’m going to attempt waffles.”
Linus stayed where he was, “I-I-I should really be going. My Den will wonder where I am.”
“Surely you’ll have a cup of tea?” Olivia insisted.
“Well… I-I-I suppose so. Yes. Please.”
Walking over to one of Heath’s interesting photo-festooned walls, Linus glimpsed Olivia through the perspective-skewed doorway, taking big, bear-sized cups down from the cupboards. Most would think her very lovely, he supposed, tall, elegant and all that; Uther would be all over her like a wasp on jam.
“Rostsonne or Hummel?” Olivia blurted from the kitchen, interrupting Linus’s thoughts.
“Pardon?”
Olivia held up some tins, “What kind of tea? Rostsonne or Hummel?”
“E-either. I don’t mind.”
“Professor Heath has some Felician teas too, but they’re rather weak I think. Taste like dishwater-”
“Rostsonne’s fine,” Linus interjected, eager to be away.
With a sharp exhale at her own perceived lack of social dexterity, Olivia opened one of many tins and proceeded to make the tea, pouring in the hot water and all the rest. “You look like a Rostsonne wolf,” she observed, steam rising around her, “but you don’t have the horrible accent.”
‘Horrible?’ Linus t
hought, saying, “I-I-I was born there, but I’ve lived in Lupa since I was three or four.”
“I see,” Olivia hummed, adding, “Where’d you get those scars?”
“Scars?”
“On your back. Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice them. Very impressive.”
“Oh! That.”
“Am I being terribly nosy?”
“No, no, not at all,” Linus lied. “A hog did it.”
“Hog?”
“N-nnn-not a ‘normal’ hog. He was some… insane, imperium-fuelled, gang-leader, down on the Common. He gored me with his tusks.”
Olivia seethed in sympathy, “You poor beast!”
For once in his life Linus sailed dangerously close to boasting waters. “One tusk went right through me,” he claimed. “Josef said it was nothing short of a miracle that it missed all my vitals.”
At length, Olivia emerged from the kitchen with two hefty cups and saucers balanced in her paws. “Josef?” she said curiously, offering one to her Howler guest. “Not Josef Grau, the grey cat with the little black glasses?”
Linus took his tea, “The very beast. He used to be Riddle District’s pathologist, amongst… other duties. He works for ALPHA now.”
Olivia gasped, “Gosh, so that’s where he went.”
“Went?”
“He used to lecture at the Arkady. He was one of my imperiology teachers. One day he just disappeared.” At length, Olivia cocked her head, “He’s a bit strange, isn’t he?”
Linus sipped his tea, “I couldn’t say.”
“I could, but I’m not as polite as you,” Olivia hummed mischievously. “Grau’s a genius, obviously, but… not entirely with it. Still, goes with the territory I suppose. Rufus Valerio’s a bit strange too, don’t you think?”
Linus guffawed ambiguously and blew on his tea.
“Well, anyway,” Olivia said, “I’m glad that hog’s tusks missed your vitals and all.”
Howler Mills raised his cup to that, “Me too.”
There was an awkward break in the conversation as both wolves sipped their tea.
“I should see about those waffles,” Olivia said. “I want to surprise Sara and the Professor when they get up. Sure you don’t want any?”