He nodded.
“Plum stuffed stewed mouse.”
Roe smiled at her.
“Really? Where did you get them?”
“I snatched them from the back of Gremian's carriage when they first arrived at the Pits. I think Alodia saw me. To be honest, she looked pleased.”
“That poor Vixen. We are the same age you know. We grew up in the same burrow.”
“I know.” Roe responded.
“I was so sad for her. I suppose I should have been pleased. She'll be well looked after and all of their pups are of Sunniva. But there was such a sadness in her face on the wedding day. I think she would have preferred banishment.”
“I don't think anyone was more disappointed than Daegal.” Roe said looking across the valley below.
“You think he'll ever find anyone else?” she asked.
“No, he never will. He will wait forever for that vixen, even if he never admits it.” Roe smiled at her and huddled closer to her warm shape. “Let's eat these mice before they get cold.”
He unfolded the satchel and a sealed glass jar rolled out along with a bowl and wine bottle.
He set the bowl between them and untwisted the cork from the top of the bottle with his jaw. A sweet smell filled the air as he poured the dark liquid into the bowl. Mercia flipped a lever and the top of the jar popped open releasing a spicy steam.
“A toast to the pit and the palace,” Roe said lowering his head. “And to you Mercia, for crawling through the dead.”
“You will be careful, Sky,” she instructed him, before lowering her head and bumping his in the traditional meal toast. “Next time I go down there, I don't want to see you staring back at me.”
Roe laughed and they joked and chatted over their meal to the occasional accompaniment of shouting and scuffles coming from the drunken Hantsa below.
“Oh, I forgot,” Mercia began, gulping down the last mouthful of plum sauce, “you've been challenged to a fight in the upper arena. A professional duel to first blood.”
Roe only half listened to her, feeling the effect of the large meal and the sugary wine. Every other day there was another challenge he thought.
“Who is the challenger?” Roe asked, disinterested.
“Well that is the thing. No one knows him. What is disturbing is he knew how to use the entrance below the pillar. He found Daegal after you left to come up here. He was horribly dressed and incredibly old but he presented half the prize money so Daegal sent a runner to book it for tomorrow evening. ”
Roe sighed thinking he was never going to get a day off.
“Oh and he left something else,” she continued. “I don't know what it is but he seemed to think you would know.”
She dug into her own satchel, which lay on the ground next to her, then flung a shiny metal object with a clang onto the marble floor of the temple.
Roe looked down and saw half a pair of tailoring scissors.
Chapter Seven
By the time Roe had stumbled back to the barracks, the old fox had long since disappeared and the rest of the Inari were silent in bed.
Fleeing his frustration, he ran out of the burrow and into the Paw Maul where the still echoing void sent him into a panic. His legs wouldn't stop moving and he blindly threw himself along the tunnel. He ran the twenty trots to the main exit and up the Millennium Spiral; named for the thousand steps it took to reach the surface. Disrupting a pair of exit Guardians huddling over a game of dice, Roe brushed past their commands to stop and disregarded their pursuit. He dove into a long underground pool and swam. The guards gave up the chase with a growl at the waters edge. His ripples caused the gold-leafed cavern to shiver above him; the waves breaking as he reached the far wall. He took a deep breath, kicked to the bottom of the pool, pulled himself through a narrow algal passage and let his buoyant lungs pull him back to the surface. He burst out of the River Thames and landed like a dirty mop on the central stairs of Traitor's Gate. Jumping and climbing to the highest parapet he finally stopped. Unthinking, he stared at the Tower of London illuminating the night below and felt as empty as the moon above.
He managed to make his way back to Bemia's but exhaustion had erased any memory of his route. He collapsed outside her closed gate and curled up. Hours passed with images of Samson fighting and flying through a dark woodland. A scream choked him as he was pushed into the current of a river. It was late by the time a restless sleep grabbed hold of him and scrubbed him in iridescent dreams.
*
Sitting on a small stone island in a sea of red, his knees barely winning the battle with gravity, an old fox gazed lovingly at the multitude of foxes surrounding him. Roe hovered over the scene, invisibly floating in the air. He giggled and was flooded by a feeling impossible to place, yet familiar as if the forest of his soul had relinquished a secret. It was the sensation a pup feels being cradled in the warmth and comfort of his mother's soft coat.
A flag could be seen flapping in the breeze as it made its way from the fringes, through the throng, to the central figure of the old fox. Then another appeared, and another, until eight flags of different colours reached the stone and their bearers knelt at its base. Carried away in the wind, a song was lost to Roe and all he could see was the slowly undulating jaws of the old fox. Bright and white and clear, the light seemed to pass from the sun through the ground to illuminate the cavern undiminished.
Suddenly a great boom reverberated through the crowd sending the foxes into the air and sprawling onto the ground. Roe looked up to see a jagged crack grinding its way across the dome in which he was floating inside of. The light began to fade and a shout shifted Roe's attention back to the foxes below him. On a synchronized cue the eight standard bearers had rushed upon the old fox and and were lifting him into the air.
At first Roe thought they were saving him, but as they violently grasped at his limbs with their jaws he saw blood splatter across the stone. The old fox remained silent and just before the others tore him limb from limb he looked to the sky at Roe and smiled. It was his own face staring back at him.
*
Roe woke with a start, wide eyed, yet unable to see anything but the lingering stare of his own blue eyes. Panting, the vision of the dream still throbbing through him, he tried to focus on the waking world and remember where he was.
A great splash of water made him jump, yelp and take a fighting pose but it also served to wash away the dream and his remaining sleepiness.
He turned to see a concerned looking Bemia holding a bucket between her jaws.
“You were screaming so I opened up shop and ran out here before you sent all of the canines to barking. I couldn't wake you so I thought best to try a bucket of water. Have you been out here all night?”
“Yes, Bemia, thanks,” Roe responded slowly “It was a hard night.”
The last ten hours began to catch up with him and with it a gentle pounding started in his head. It quickly developed into a real hammering and, finally, a full blown headache.
“I imagine so, little pup. You look like the rag I use to wash out the kennels. You want something hot to drink and a bit of breakfast?”
“Yes, that would be lovely, thanks Bemia.”
Roe rubbed his snout and picked himself up from the ground.
The brisk, efficient, conversation Bemia delivered mixed with a cup of sharply brewed tea and the crunch of a partial rat was exactly what Roe needed. He left refreshed, his headache subsiding to a mild but constant pulse.
The bushy orange canine flopped after him giving his heels a lick when he stopped.
“You will be making a move to the palace tomorrow,” Bemia called after him. This little one seems to trust you so, as I said before, I think you should be the one to deliver her to Alodia. Seeing how the other half lives always leaves me feeling grubby and self conscious. Look at it as payment for the tea and rat, not to mention the stony night's sleep.”
Roe considered the small animal at his paws. “Yeah, okay, but she's
not coming with me now. I'll grab her on my way in the morning.”
“Of course! You think she looks ready to be presented to the wife of the Supreme Councillor?”
The canine had clearly been lying in a dingy corner of Bemia's small kennel. Her coat had a layer of some sticky substance which in turn had an icing of dirt and gravel.
“She's far better than the palace deserves, Bemia!” Roe replied. “Off you go little canine. I'll see you tomorrow morning.” He indicated with his snout back towards Bemia.
Puzzled for a moment, or perhaps just making sure, the animal cocked its head then turned and bounded back towards the shop. It stopped, heeling at Bemia's side, and watched Roe go.
Roe had stayed longer than intended and the work day was well under way. A long line of foxes stood in the main rotunda of Orva's Spear outside the Burrow Hall. It was towards this line that Roe headed. Cheers went up as he passed and a few jovial boos. For everyone that won money on his fights, an equal number lost it. Loyalty is easily spent at the bank of quick wealth.
Frozen at eight fifty-one a.m., the village clock was a constant reminder that time equalled wealth at one time and that foxes valued their moment in time most of all. He wondered who had made it, who had kept it, who had appreciated its tick and most of all what had happened to make it stop mid-tock. He passed below as the hall guards waved him past the long line.
Like all of the other government buildings in London, Orva's town Hall was old, beautifully constructed, but in horrible disrepair. He needed to leap over a few crumbling steps on his way to the Governor's chamber. He felt bad for those foxes forced to wait and wondered if the stairs would collapse completely under their weight.
“Morning, Sky,” another pair of guards said, waving him into the chamber. “Great fight yesterday. I've never seen you take a fall.”
They were the final steps before the foxes were allowed in for an audience with the Governor. Many foxes were turned away if the guards didn't feel whatever issue they were bringing to the Hall was worthy of the Governor's attention.
Roe could see they clearly enjoyed their slice of power and held it with a haughty pretence. He passed by without comment.
An expanse of chequered tiles spread between him and the Governor who sat at the far end of the room, his head dwarfed behind an imposing bronze desk, with a pair of old foxes arguing in short barks at its base. He was a young fox for such a position and kept himself incredibly tidy. His official robes were always clean even though they were well worn and his fur clipped neatly with a slight exotic scent hinting at a fox who bathed and perfumed himself daily. He was barely paying attention to whatever issue these other foxes were arguing about.
As Roe approached, the Governor indicated towards the exit and the two foxes turned to leave, giving him a disappointed nod as they passed.
“Warian, good morning. Busy day for you, it looks like,” Roe said.
“It's like this every day, Sky,” the Governor responded, a nervous irritation creeping into his voice. “I was happier running the protection rounds. This is punishment, not promotion.”
“It is a great honour, Warian and a great service to the Inari. How many have you let through so far?”
“Only a pair of Shadow Foxes, actually.”
Roe stopped mid trot and stared at the fox above him.
“Sky, don't give me that look. I was going to turn them away but Daegal came out for some tea, heard me read a bit of what they had scraped on a piece of parchment, and stopped me before I could. They are in there now.”
“All right,” Roe said, continuing past him. “Send some more tea through, would you, I have a headache,” he added over his shoulder.
Roe trotted through a low door into the Governor's office. Daegal sat behind a table, the two Shadow Foxes standing in front of him and a vixen Roe had never seen before sat on his side.
“Sky! Where have you been? I think I have something for you. Possibly of extreme importance.” He glanced at the vixen before continuing.
“You have a fight tonight, by the way. In the professional pits.”
“Yes, I heard,” Roe responded, instantly thinking of Samson.
“Sorry about that, I'm sure you'd like a day off, but you can earn a final maulfull of cash before getting fat and lazy at the palace. This other bit of business will be your last official Inari assignment. Come over here, there are a few foxes I want you to meet.”
Roe crossed towards Daegal, the Shadow Foxes looking away from his gaze as he passed. Roe wondered what it must be like. Born fully self-aware but without the ability to speak. He was conflicted about the Shadow Foxes. Most viewed them as a lower form of life even though they were generally larger and quicker; a belief which was perpetuated by the training they were given. From birth most were encouraged to embrace their innate beastliness making them fighting machines that were easy to control. They seemed to be naturally more violent but Roe wondered if that was just a result of the circumstances of their upbringing.
“You look terrible, Sky. Were you out all night with Mercia? She'll be here soon to add her expertise to this little dilemma.” Roe looked across Daegal towards the vixen who stared coldly back at him. She wore a slim hooded red velvet coat so close to the face that all he could see were her eyes.
“As far as I can tell this is Riverborn and the other is called Fireson,” Daegal said, indicating towards the two Shadow Foxes, the latter of which wore a patchwork of burns across his back and legs.
Messily scribbled scraps of paper were scattered across the desk and Roe saw ink dripping from the Shadow Fox's claws. He was surprised. Not many Shadow Foxes knew how to read let alone had the dexterity of paw to write.
“They lead a group of Shadow Foxes in a small unnamed burrow which the Palace had thought was empty and of no use. Last week, however, while they were trying to make room for their ever growing community, they knocked through a bricked up wall and discovered a side chamber. One of their pregnant Shadow Vixens moved in and gave birth to a pair of Foxes of the Light.”
Roe's jaw tightened. A few times in the past Shadow Foxes had given birth in the Light. Usually by accident and never registered with the council as all births within the Light were meant to be. What was really surprising, however, was that a new space rich in the Light hadn't been discovered for at least a decade.
“Does the palace know?” Roe asked
“As far as we can tell, no. But that isn't likely to be the case for long. Something like this will only remain a secret for a few days. That is why they have come to us. They know that once the palace finds out they will be removed and the space will be registered.”
“So, what is the plan?”
“I've decided we need some support on this one so I sent for a specialist.” He looked towards the vixen and smiled. Roe tried to see the branding on her leg but whatever was there was covered by a tight leg wrap.
“This is Shade. The first thing you need to know is that you never met her and she was never here.”
“I see.” Roe knew that meant she was an exile coming to Greater London at risk of death.
“Good to meet you,” he continued, offering her a paw.
With an impatient thrust she patted his paw with hers in the typical formal greeting.
“We don't have much time,” Shade began. “Daegal and these two have come to an agreement. Normally the Inari have never needed to offer their services to the Shadow Foxes. Indeed, it is not something we have ever considered.”
Roe noticed her use of the word 'we' and looked at Daegal, who kept his focus turned.
“The Inari and those under our protection will be allowed to use this portion of Light for a small fee. In exchange for this opportunity, the Inari will suppress knowledge of its existence and will extend their service to this group of Shadow Foxes. Now, you told me you have an explosives expert.”
“That's me,” Mercia said, boldly striding into the room. “Who are you?”
“Yes, this i
s Mercia. She is equally skilled at blowing great holes in foxes as she is in stitching them back up,” Daegal said, disrupting the challenging stare Mercia had entered with.
“That's right! I like to fix what I break! Even if it is only a peaceful night out!” she yelled, staring at Roe.
“Mercia, this is Shade. She wasn't here and you never met.”
“Oh, well it is good to have you,” Mercia said with a wary respect.
“Shade came up with the idea of blowing up their burrow and of spreading misinformation about the reason.”
This brought a questioning growl from the two Shadow Foxes. The Shadow Foxes did have a system of language, viewed as extremely archaic to a fox of the Light, mostly consisting of a single growl which varied its tone and tempo. As far as Roe knew there were no Foxes who could speak it or would lower themselves to try. Besides, all Shadow Foxes could understand spoken Anglish.
The one called Fireson quickly dipped his clawquill into the ink pot and scribbled in broken letters: Do Not Destroy Our Home.
Shade looked at them and growled briefly with an enchanting melody. Roe and Mercia shared an incredulous look. It had worked and the Shadow Foxes had settled back into silence.
“Don't worry. We are not going to 'blow up' the entire burrow,” she said, while passing an annoyed glance towards Daegal. “We are going to re-close the area, under the guise of an explosion, and create a separate entrance. The explanation for this explosion will be a savage fight between the Shadow Foxes within the burrow. The palace has little patience or respect especially for independent Shadow Foxes and this story will be an easy sell.”
“Gather whatever materials you need.” Daegal said with an air of finality. “Riverborn and Fireson will show you the way. This is the priority of the day so get it done. Don't wear out Sky, though. I don't want to send him to the Palace all banged up.”
Daegal considered the two Shadow Foxes for a moment, then offered them his paw. It was a sign of respect seldom given to the Shadow Foxes. They were paying clients now, however, and anyone who paid deserved his respect. They patted his paw in turns and the five of them looked at each other for a moment before the two Shadow Foxes sheepishly started out of the room followed by Shade, Mercia and Roe.
The Progeny of Able (The Burrow of London Series Book 1) Page 12