Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
Part EIGHTY-TWO
The next morning, Toby woke up in an unfamiliar bed with very little memory of the previous evening. He struggled out from beneath heavy construct-fur blankets. There was a mirror beside the bed. He stared at it till his eyes were able to focus. 'Oh good, I both feel and look like reheated leftovers.'
A horse came through the doorway. "I hope your outlook has improved this morning, Sire Toby."
"'llo, George. Sorta." He grabbed the bedpost for support to stand up, then looked around. A cozy, compact room. Lots of flowery patterns and a few war axes. Definitely still Rhinolith. "How'd I get here?"
A sympathetic chuckle. "I let you rest for a while after our final encounter with our captive."
Toby winced at the memory's return.
"You attempted to return to work, but, to put it gently, you were ineffective. At the point when I held a large unit of imaginite under your nose and you stared past it without recognition, I decided it might be wise to seek an early bedtime."
Toby mustered a smile. He wobbled over and patted his friend. "Good decision."
"Do you feel rested?"
Toby shifted and stretched. "I guess so." His body felt allright, but he was more worried about his mind. Sifting through his feelings, he was glad to discover that a good night's sleep had reduced the all-encompassing numbness from yesterday. He didn't feel so broken. Though there was still a blank spot at his core. A feeling of pointlessness. Toby hoped it would fade soon. Though he worried it might be caused by something his deep heart knew, and his conscious self had yet to face.
That thought made him sigh, and the inhale brought an interesting smell. "Did you make breakfast?"
"Yes! I am attempting to learn cooking!" George sounded very pleased with himself, and at Toby for noticing. "It would have been devilishly difficult with only my hooves, but today I am exceeding my own expectations!" George nudged his friend out of the bedroom.
Toby remembered their previous breakfast of roast hypena leg. Delicious, certainly, but he wondered if it meant George had killed something, dragged it into this stranger's house, and barbecued it in the sink.
Expecting a massive mess when he turned the corner, Toby instead found a tidy kitchen with ingredients all neatly sorted on the counter. George was making omelets. The stallion trotted to the stove, checked the burners, then picked up a half-full carton of biteranodon eggs with his teeth. "Your meal will be ready in a moment."
Toby took a seat and gaped at George's preparation. The stallion had retracted the cartilage between the bones of his wings, and now reached around to utilize them as a giant, spindly pair of hands. Toby watched him delicately select an egg, crack it into a mixing bowl, then set the shell aside. The precision was machine-perfect.
"There was a recipe book lying out," George said. "I would not have had the confidence to experiment otherwise. And, it is my educated guess, the shells are not to be included, correct?"
"Spot-on, George. I'm seriously impressed."
George fidgeted, pleased as punch. "Thank you, Sire Toby! Though you may wish to withhold judgment until after partaking. I am unaware how much my palate differs from yours, and my first attempt came out... wrong." He nodded towards the trash. Something blobby and black was on top.
"I think you overcooked it."
George nodded bashfully. "The instructions said to cook until 'done'. That seemed 'done' to my best estimation."
Toby snickered. "I could help you out if you like."
"I would appreciate that very much!"
***
Toby did his best to only offer help when asked, and mostly let George figure things out on his own. Seeing how excited the construct was to try something that normally would have been impossible for his kind, the excitement rubbed off a little. Toby found himself feeling better.
He also congratulated George on the brilliant repurposing of his new wingtips. He'd had the new appendages for less than a week and was already taking them beyond what they were meant for. George was tickled pink at the praise. He asked with giddy glee for Toby to watch him open a spice jar.
And the omelets turned out fine. Biteranodon eggs are pretty big, and when all the skilleting was done, George plopped a small mountain down in front of Toby. As the mouse raised the first forkful to his muzzle, he worried a little what George might have seasoned it with. A can of drain cleaner might look like a saltshaker, after all. But George had deferred to the recipe exactly. Toby 'Mmmm!'ed at the flavor. Then George began to badger him with endless questions of how he could improve for next time.
Stuffed with eggs, the duo later emerged once more onto the streets of Rhinolith. Toby felt the weight of worry fall upon him again. It was easy to forget all the bad crap in the quiet little kitchen, enjoying George's surprise breakfast. Now here he was again, surrounded by strands of taut, beige plastic. A life-sucking spiderweb. He wasn't finished with his work here.
He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to calm his mind. "Allright, George. Let's pick up where we left off yesterday."
After a short flight, they landed in a place that seemed to Toby like a barely-remembered dream. They'd obviously been to this apartment complex before. Scaphis had ripped the whole north face of the building off, and a third of the rooms showed signs of a mouse and horse snooping around. In the first one George led him to, there was a bright chunk of mineral waiting on the bed for him. Toby gave a queasy sigh and did to it what he'd been doing with all the rest so far. The first bite of the morning always tasted the worst.
The work progressed from there uneventfully. Toby opened the drawers, had George crack the safes, and together they collected all the iridescent rocks they found. Toby was careful, as always, to put other valuables and mementos back just the way he'd found them. He worried that after Scaphis' hold on this place was broken, there might be plagues of looters. He hated the thought that he might be helping thieves steal other people's most treasured belongings. 'But if that happens, it happens. As much as the idea hurts, it's still a better outcome than these poor people staying cocooned forever.'
He thought again about the sniper in the arena. Normally he would be bringing her breakfast. But today, the decision not to didn't sting his conscience much. She could figure out how to dumbfound some water if she got thirsty enough. There was no point in wasting more time letting her pummel him with insults.
As Toby searched and chewed, his thoughts drifted back in time. His fight with Junella after Rither's ambush. His musings in the backseat about comic book heroes versus real world morality. Toby was coming to understand that he'd already taken an important step when he'd made Rhinolith's imaginite a part of his plan. In that moment, he accepted that he'd have to compromise his morals in pursuit of a greater goal. And that was weighing on him now. The marten sure as hell had her finger on that open sore. Though he decided it was okay to feel some guilt from that. It meant his heart hadn't frozen over. He could feel the guilt, but not let it stop him. Because Scaphis was more important. Nothing mattered more than her. And if that meant he had to feel bad, or make others feel bad... He didn't like it. But he didn't have to like it. It needed to be done.
Toby pried a locked cabinet door off its hinges. Inside were trophies, framed photos, and other keepsakes. He snatched the pebbles of imaginite beside them without hesitation.
'This isn't about me anymore. I'm not on some fairytale hero quest. This is about Scaphis. She'll hurt everyone unless somebody stops her. And it looks like I'm it. I didn't ask to be. Fate just put me in the best position to know how to fight her. It's not a matter of what I want, it's a matter of, that's how the dice rolled and here I am. So it's not fair. And that means it's okay if I'm not fair either. If I have to cheat to win against her, oh well. If it means I'll hate myself after everything's done, oh well. What's the alternative? How much worse would I feel if I did nothing? What if I sat on my tail and waited to find some perfect solution where I don't ever have to do anything the slightest bit dirty? While I was waiting for perfect, she'd take over. Because 'perfect' doesn't exist.' The full depth of the realization was finally hitting his heart. 'There is no perfect plan. Not anywhere.'
Toby thought about the market stalls in Lalochezia that had gotten torched in his battle with George. He thought about stealing from Gilla-Gilla. He thought about his choice to leave the sniper to her hatred.
He thought about hammer-bashing all those innocent mall guards in Ectopia Cordis, to give Zinc time to destroy the supports and save the city.
'Junella, you were right.'
It felt strange to come to that conclusion. It hurt. There was a tearing ache inside his chest as he fully let go of his ideals. That a hero was someone of unblemished courage and purity and kindness. 'Or maybe that is what a hero is ...and I'm just not one.' That idea sucked. A bit liberating, yes, but it also felt kind of skeevy. He'd always thought of himself as a good furson. Maybe not a hero, but someone who looked up to them. And now he'd walked away from that path. Though he wasn't really a villain either. He was something in between. Something without an easy label. He felt adrift.
He wished Junella were here and he could talk with her about this. Ask if she was ever unsure if she was still on the side of the good guys.
His inner voice butted in. 'If you ever want to have that talk, you know exactly how to get there.'
'Right. Keep on eating imaginite.'
Toby thought about the plan. It was not heroic. It was not evil either. It was simply practical. All considerations of morals aside, it was something he thought had a better-than-luck chance of working.
He comforted himself with that. Maybe it wasn't even up to him whether he was good or bad, or some weird hybrid between the two. Maybe other people would decide that in the afterwards. Possibly based on nothing more than whether he succeeded or failed. Maybe that was all that ever separated heroes from villains.
'Okay, that's getting a bit too cynical,' he warned himself. Then he chuckled silently at how much he'd changed, that such an idea could even occur to him now.
He thought back to his first moments in Phobiopolis. Appearing in a field, running, with a big red rustbeast chasing him. He thought about the Blackdamp. The Mushroom Woman. The cave. Piffle.
It seemed like years had passed.
Hours certainly did. Toby and George finished searching the apartments. They moved on to the building next door. The work was steady. They did not talk much. They kept to their own thoughts. George tried humming to lighten the mood, but was not very good at it. They searched more buildings. They found more imaginite. They searched more buildings. They found more imaginite.
Time blurred.
And then, sometime around mid-afternoon, out of a clear grey sky came the universally-recognizable sound of a car horn playing La Cucaracha.
An amplified voice echoed across the city, "HEY!!! DID SOMEBODY ORDER A PIZZA!?!?"
Toby's head shot up. His ears pinpointed the sound. He knew that voice. "They're here! They're here!!"
Within seconds he was on George's back. Then they were airborne, zooming like a rocket towards the edge of Rhinolith's walls. Toby's heart was beating in his throat. The waiting was over. Days and days of work. It was finally over. He hadn't found 100% of the imaginite yet, but he honestly didn't care. The cavalry was here.
Relief and happiness burst out of him like fireworks when a boxy, oxidized behemoth came into view.
Luxy Bleeder was standing on top of Red's colossal noggin, waving and wielding a megaphone. "ARE WE LATE, EARLY, OR RIGHT ON TIME?" Red showed obvious excitement at seeing George again, nearly bucking the raccoon off in his enthusiasm.
Toby's head was spinning with relief. It seemed like this moment would never come. He kept expecting to blink away this dream and find himself back in the city with another chunk of rock in his paws.
Luxy stepped back to allow George plenty of landing space. "FIRST WHEELS NOW WINGS? NICE! CUSTOMIZABLE, AINTCHA?"
As soon as George's hooves were planted firmly, Toby leapt off and waved a warning at the lanky raccoon. "Shhhh!! Cut it out with the megaphone! I'm glad to see you, but we can't risk waking up Scaphis! Sound vibrations or something!!"
Luxy gave the mouse a reassuring smirk. "Negative problemo, tovarich. The old bitch's deaf as a road toad in this form. I could holler into this thing all day." He held it to his lips. "MADEMOISELLE TARARRE HAS A FAT FARTY ASS." He tossed it over his shoulder, letting it bonk off Red's cranium and tumble to the writhing vines. "See?"
Toby's tension lessened. "Good to know, but you almost gave me a heart attack!"
The raccoon seemed to enjoy causing such reactions. Today Ectopia's mayor-king was dressed in an outfit befitting the solemnity of the expedition. A sharply-tailored cream-white suit. Ample pockets for concealed weaponry. Gold accents on the hem, cuffs, and epaulettes. The jacket was unbuttoned to reveal a raspberry-red t-shirt underneath. On Luxy's feet were heavy-duty waffle-stomper hiking boots. "We actually know quite a bit about Dear Scrappy by now. Mucho opportunities to experiment on her along the way."
Toby wondered if that was why they'd taken longer than expected to get here. "Geez... How far along is she by now?"
"About halfway to EC," he said blithely.
Toby recoiled. "No!! That's awful!"
A chuckle. "No, that's good."
"What? Why!?"
The wily coon crouched down to eye level with the younger mouse. His grin was already tasting victory. "Remember what you wrote me about her reaction time? It's half that now. We chucked all sorts of constructs at her. Terrorbunnies, eraserheads, you name it. One of them almost got away. Do I need to elucidate the significance of that? The more she stretches, the more victims she snags, the more tasks she has to keep track of. I don't care how smart she thinks she is, you can only multitask for so long before you start to lose focus."
The heavy iron chains of worry that had been wrapped around Toby's heart began to crack. "That is the BEST news I've heard in a month! You hear that, George?"
Toby turned around and saw that his construct friend had his wings folded away and was down on his knees, ululating to Red in their shared tongue. "I have been paying attention, Sire Toby, but also saying hello to a very enthusiastic compatriot!"
Toby felt a sudden pang of guilt at overlooking Red. Luxy was just about to speak, but Toby held up a finger and gave him a 'just a moment' look. Then he dropped down, spread his arms wide and hugged the gentle crimson nightmare as hard as he could. "I am so glad to see you again," he said softly and sincerely. "You brought them, just like I asked. You did great. I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Red. You did a great job. You are just completely wonderful." He rubbed his cheek against the rusty metal and kissed it.
Red was overwhelmed with joy. His construct friend was back! His smallone friend was back! Everyone was praising him! This was the best day EVER!!!
Luxy Bleeder watched Toby completely ignoring him, nuzzling and snuggling the rustbeast instead. Far from being offended, he was amused. Here he was, the most important furson in Ectopia Cordis (possibly the world), and this mouse had turned his back to him without a thought. To give a squeeze to a skyscraper. 'The balls on this kid! Out-fucking-standing!' He was so glad he hadn't brushed off Toby's message. Not just due to the warning about Scaphis, but because Toby deLeon was presenting himself as someone to keep an eye on. The unassuming little pipsqueak had been dropping clues left and right and left that here was a potential titan in the making. An untapped vein of unpredictable power. And the rodent himself was too humble to notice. He was an atom on the verge of splitting, poised to unleash a limitless blast that would crater the status quo of this realm. Luxy couldn't wait to watch it happen.
He let the mouse and pony dote on the big red rustbeast for a few more moments until he could no longer stand not being the center of attention. "Yeah, hey, Red's just swell ain't he? But is there anyone else standing here deserving of accolades? Perhaps your own personal Jesus, hmm?" He spread his arms and struck a saintly pose.
Toby snerked and got to his feet, but not before giving Red a last pat. "Yes, Mr. Bleeder, I am very glad to see you too." He approached for a hug or handshake, whichever the raccoon would be more comfortable with.
Instead Luxy hissed and flinched back. "I am wearing white and you are bright orange right now!"
Toby looked down. His cheeks, chest, vest, shorts, and knees were all covered in rust. Looking over his shoulder, George also looked like he'd been swimming in cheese puffs. "Whoops."
"Just give yourself a second to forget yourselves clean again. Then you can kiss my feet or whatever you like."
Toby chuckled. He looked up at the handsome, grinning mayor and felt a shiver of unreality. "You're actually here," he said breathlessly. "I've been losing my mind waiting. I kinda half-think I'm dreaming right now."
"People do tend to feel that way when I show up," Luxy deadpanned. "Sorry to keep you on the line, chum. I try to make sure my presence rewards patience. How've you been since our last chat? You're both looking well." He turned to George, "I meant it about the wings; they're metal as fuck."
George deduced from the inflection that this was a compliment. "Thank you, Sir Bleeder."
"Did you have 'em before? I can't remember. Then again, you were just a collared head for most of the trial."
George gave them a flutter. "Your first assumption was correct. They are brand new additions, courtesy of a potion from Sir L'roon."
Luxy's expression went unreadable for a moment. "Ah. Him." He quickly changed the subject back to Toby. "And you, kid! You've lost weight!"
"Huh?" Toby looked down at himself again, this time past the rust stains. He'd completely forgotten that he was still pretty much a walking stick with a pelt draped over it. Though, considering what had caused it, he was surprised he'd gained back any weight at all. "Yeah, well, Logdorbhok took a chunk outta me a while ago."
Luxy blanched, and for the first time in Toby's presence, actually looked unsettled. "Ha ha. That's, uh, not something people usually joke about, kid."
"Oh, I'm not!" Toby said, thinking the raccoon was disbelieving him. "We barely got through Dysphoria to Anasarca! I was a wreck. That poopthing had his microbes chew on me for a while before my friends shocked me out of there."
The mayor was biting his lower lip and badly concealing his sense of alarm. "Well golly gee. That's sure interesting. We are VERY going to have a little talk about that soon. But for now, um, hey, how's things been going here? The prep you wrote me about? All that fun stuff?"
Toby shook his head. "It's been... tiring, I guess. I mean, I've found plenty of imaginite: don't worry about that. But it's hard knowing I'm stealing from people. It's hard spending all my time around statues that used to be people, knowing they're watching me. And there was a survivor too. She was not happy to see me." He laughed mirthlessly. "George and I locked her up in the arena after she tried to transform him and torture me."
Luxy became highly interested. "Really?"
A nod. "Yes. I still can't quite figure out what to feel about doing that to her."
"I think," Luxy tapped on his own pursed lips, "that she might be an interesting furson to talk to."
Toby grimaced. "If you do, brace yourself! Get ready for a lot of foul language and violence. She shot George, darted me, and hit me in the face with a snot-sock."
The raccoon's brow furrowed. His grin darkened, showing off slightly more of his clenched teeth. "Oh she did, did she?"
George nodded. "I can attest partially to Sire Toby's account. I did not see the sock being thrown, but I witnessed this individual injuring and threatening to further injure my companion."
Luxy pressed his fingertips together. "Ah so."
"In her defense," Toby felt he needed to add, "what would you do if you lost everything, and thought the furson who did it was standing right in front of you?"
Without hesitation he replied, "I'd ask them questions until I was sure."
'That's pretty close to what George said too,' Toby thought.
"Don't forget, I'm a licensed judge. Grief makes people stupid. I've seen too many cases where one loss causes another and another. People think with their tears and their rage, not their heads. It pisses me off. I think I will go visit your caged pal. I'll hear her side with an open mind, but I'm no fan of excuses."
Toby found himself worried for the marten, even despite how much she'd done to him. A pissed-off Luxy was a force to be reckoned with. Toby remembered Cleanup Crew, but still couldn't remember the man's original name. "I guess I could take you over there."
Luxy was about to reply, then paused and gave Toby a good, long look. "Sorry for asking, but have you slept lately?"
"Well, yeah," Toby said, a little surprised by the question. "Not very well though"
"You look tired."
Toby was taken aback by the sudden, complete sincerity of the statement. No flourishes, smirks, or sarcasm. "I probably do, I guess."
Luxy crouched again, and put a hand on the mouse's head, swiveling it back and forth under his inspection. "More than that, you look burnt out, if not a little shell-shocked. I saw how your muscles tensed when you talked about this prisoner of yours. That's how people act when they're covering for someone who's hurt them."
Toby backed away from the raccoon's paw. "I didn't..." he started to protest. "I... Maybe. I understand her reasons why, but... yes. She got to me pretty bad."
An unsurprised nod. "And now you're holding it in like a mouthful of poison you won't spit out." Luxy crossed his arms. "Kid, here's a better idea. How 'bout I borrow your horse for a while? Not just because riding on a flying nightmare sounds so fucking cool I can't even deal with it, but because you need a break." He lightly poked Toby's sternum. "Why don't you go up top and meet the rest of the platoon? I think you even know a few of 'em. I did like you suggested and rounded up the most dangerous bunch of has-been ass-kickers I could find. People like me who've tangled with Li'l Miss Scaphy T. before. Go mingle. Being around people always cheers me up. Plus, we actually do have pizza."
Toby was surprised by the suggestion. He didn't really want to split up from George, yet he also did not want anything more to do with the marten sniper. Luxy handling her by himself sounded A-OK. Plus, they had pizza. "I literally can't remember the last time I had a slice."
"Christ, you poor thing!!"
Toby turned to George. "What do you think?"
The construct gently nuzzled his master's ear. "I think Sir Bleeder's observations are all accurate. You are more tired than I've had the temerity to say, and I think my silence has done you a disservice. I believe that a pleasant interlude among friendly faces would do you good, and another confrontation with that woman in the cage would do nothing but harm. Sir Bleeder is correct that he and I can handle it by ourselves. And also correct that it is very cool to ride on me."
Toby smiled and hugged his friend. "Completely true."
Luxy marveled for a moment at seeing such genuine friendship between a soul and a construct. He glanced at Red. Even with all the rustbeast's help so far, Luxy knew he hadn't really been treating him as anything more than a taxi. He pressed his palm against the red metal. "Thanks, by the way," he said quietly.
Red heard him, and growl-hummed an appreciative response.
Luxy chuckled. Then he looked upwards: a ten-foot wall of metal between the top of Red's head and the flat of the construct's back. Luxy squatted, then sproinged, pivoting himself on his palm and landing with both feet at the edge.
Toby gawked. "Wow!"
"Do your exercises every day, boys and girls, and you'll grow up to be a lithe, supple specimen of ultimate masculinity just like me." He knelt down to offer Toby a hand up.
Toby looked at George again, realizing this would be the first time they'd be going in separate directions since Lalochezia. But that was allright really. It would only be for a short while. And both of them would be in good company. Toby nodded to George, then reached up on tiptoes to grab Luxy's hand.
He was instantly whisked up, like he weighed no more than a shopping bag. He cradled his hand as soon as it was released. "Your grip's like a vice!"
"Danke schoen," said Luxy.
Toby was about to add another comment, when he actually got a look at Red's back.
He fell dumbstruck.
He blinked, yet everything he'd seen was still there. "Damn... I saw a big bunch of stuff when I flew in, but I didn't have time to... How'd you get all this junk UP here!?"
Luxy smirked. "Well jimminy jeepers, it's not like I live in a city that's primarily focused around transporting things vertically."
Toby rolled his eyes and felt a bit foolish.
There was practically a mansion on Red's back. An embroidered multicolored rug the size of an airplane hangar covered almost all of the square footage, and on top of it was a warehouse's worth of luxury furniture. Couches, canopy beds, armchairs, a big-screen TV. A kitchen nook complete with oven and refrigerator. A pool table. Decorative lamps and palm trees. And a truly foreboding stockpile of weaponry. Ornate wooden racks of assault rifles, sci-fi blasters, painlaunchers, and hand cannons. Plus, far at the back were six humongous rectangular tanks of unknown contents. Each was about the size of a boxcar.
"Oh yes," Luxy said at Toby's awed expression, "I travel well-stocked."
In addition to the accommodations, Toby also spotted a half-dozen other passengers. Some were up and stretching their legs after the long journey. Some were carrying supplies. Some looked asleep. But a few were familiar. Specifically, one disfigured fox, one biomechanical gorilla (currently visible), one energetic simian, and one bifurcated, tattoo-shaped feline.
Luxy was glad to see some recognition on the kid's face, and took that as his cue to exit. He was actually itching to debrief the lad, but in the state he was in, that would be cruel. Let him rest his poor mousey brain first.
George 'Oof!'ed as a tall raccoon suddenly dropped out of the sky onto his back.
"Hyaah! Giddyap!" Luxy shouted, lightly kicking his heels against George's ribcage.
George craned his neck around slowly. "Sir Bleeder, you could achieve much more effective results by simply asking me."
The coon grinned. "I'm just yankin' yer chain." He patted around the stallion's withers. "So where's the steering wheel on this thing?"
George had no eyes to roll. Still, he couldn't be too annoyed at the raccoon's shenanigans. It mattered more that a living soul he'd barely met was comfortable enough in his presence to hop on without hesitation. And even joke with him. "I steer," he said with his own smirk, and unfolded his wings.
Toby heard the rustling and turned. "Goodbye, George! I'll see you later!"
"Let's hope we can reckon with her expediently!" he called back. "Hold on tight, Sir Bleeder. I am faster than you dare imagine!"
The raccoon's face lit up. "Great!"
Toby enjoyed the first good laugh he'd had in days as George took off at top speed and all he heard was Luxy's fading scream of "FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuucckkkk..."
***
Footsteps behind him. One pair large and one pair small.
"Draght! I'g hopefd we couwd geh a wuhd in wigfh hihm befauw he lehghft!" said Mr. Rippingbean.
"Oh, sorry!" Toby spun around to find the two businessfurs right behind him. "He and I were kinda discussing stuff, and he went off to see this sniper I captured and-"
Mr. Woofingbutter shook his head and removed his monocle. "No, no, my boy! We have spoken at length with Mr. Bleeder on our journey." The gorilla leaned in and stage whispered, "In fact it is hard to shut the rascal up." He and Rippingbean shared a guffaw. "My colleague actually meant your horse."
Toby blinked. "George? Why?"
The fox with the half-melted face was about to launch into a detailed explanation, but his partner held up a finger, forestalling him. "Ah. Yesh. Mehbbe yuo'd betuhh. Yuh do 'ahve thhe finuh vuhcabbawewwy."
Both the fox and gorilla were dressed in gorgeous, gleaming, silver-gray suits, complete with top hats and umbrella canes. They looked like splendid gentlemen. Well, except for the bit of unfortunate drool on RB's lapel, and WB's monstrous contraption of a medical exoskeleton. The ape expounded, "We were hoping to give him some thanks. You see, his exit from our garage in his vehicular state got quite a few tongues wagging. People thought it was a publicity stunt. A construct-powered car! We were flooded with customers asking how we did it!"
"Bizhgnessh dubbled!" Rippingbean added.
Toby smiled. "I'm sure he'll be really happy to hear that."
Woofingbutter steepled his large fingers. "I'm a tad surprised he's had more alteration done. We'd been planning to offer him a contract as a showroom model."
Toby's eyebrows went up. "Um, I think he'd be honored, but he might also get bored. Plus, he and the Fearsleigher kinda got separated. The car's up on Anasarca as far as I know. Assuming Scaphis hasn't chucked it into space just to be a jerk."
Rippingbean 'tsk'ed. "Shahme. Shtill, ougr Andymahn couwd buiwd 'im anozher."
Woofingbutter tittered at the pun. "He certainly could! And if wings are his new fad, a fuselage might look good on him too. Pass it on then, will you?" he asked Toby.
A crisp nod from the mouse. "I'll remember. So, I assume you two are in charge of supplies here?"
Rippingbean doffed his hat towards the gun racks. "Indeeghfd."
"What's in those big tanks?" Toby asked.
"Actually, Mr. Bleeder procured those from a wholesaler," said Woofingbutter. "Some kind of fiendish industrial solvent. I dare say Madame Tarrare is going to have her feathers ruffled."
Toby winced, his thoughts filling with sounds of hissing acid. "I hope it doesn't burn a hole in her and give her an escape from the plastic."
Two head-shakes from both of them. "Ohnononononooo," Woofingbutter said. "If Aldridge's magic put it on her, it's her own soul that'll keep it on." He sighed wistfully. "He was the greatest of the age. A pity he retired."
Rippingbean made sounds of agreement.
Toby was just about to ask what WB had meant by Scaphis' soul keeping her curse in place, when a withered hand clutched his shoulder and whipped him around with surprising strength. Toby found himself face-to-face with two wild eyes, a grin full of crooked teeth, and a beard that swept the ground. His paw was shook so intensely it felt like it was being ground into powder.
"There's the boy! By gum and by cracky, it's good to see you at last! Or is it again? Yes, yes! We met at the hotel once! A pleasure if I do say so! You sounded the alarm and brought us all out of mothballs again! Gettin' in a brand new scrap with this buncha dusty bastards again is a treat! A true treat! And to get another swing at that screwy old bag Scaphis? Crackerjack!"
"You are breaking all the bones in my hand!!" Toby wailed.
The excitable marmoset looked down at the paw he was crushing. "What's that you say? Well shoot, I apologize fer that. Let myself get a bit carried away there, by golly."
Lady Xenoiko swooped in to disentangle her husband from the discombobulated mouse. "Ignatius! Stop mangling the poor child!"
The miniature simian huffed and puffed bashfully. He dusted off Toby's paw. "Looks allright to me. He'll be fine in a jiffy or two."
All of Toby's fingertips had gone white. He recalled that, despite the marmoset being shorter than him by four inches and old as the hills, Mr. Xenoiko had once been a prominent demonslayer. "Um, good to see you two again."
Lady Xenoiko's smile stretched wide across the cat and tiger halves of her face. The living tattoo gave Toby a courtly nod instead of another handshake, then looked to Rippingbean and Woofingbutter. "Apologies for interrupting, but do you mind if I borrow this mouse for a while? I'd like to give him the tour."
"Thaght wuld beh phhhine wi'h meh, Muhddahme."
"And I as well."
They both reached out to kiss her hands. The fox took the larger and the gorilla took the smaller. Lady Xenoiko blushed appreciatively at their manners.
Mr. Xenoiko squinted at the two fancy-pants businessfurs puttin' lips on his woman.
A slender, ivory-furred paw fell on Toby's shoulder. "If you would be so kind as to follow?"
"Sure," Toby said. It felt like ages since his stay at the Tatterdemalion. He was happy to catch up with the friendly innkeeper again.
"Ta-ra, sirrah! We shall speak more at a later time!" Woofingbutter called out, waving his hanky.
Mr. Rippingbean attempted to say 'Indubitably'. The results were untranscribable.
Toby tried not to laugh. "Okay, see you later!" He had just turned to follow the Xenoikos when another memory leapt into mind. "Oh! And if you guys ever go to Lalochezia, you should check out Poubelle & After's diner! I think you'd like them!"
Neither had heard the names before, but they gave each other looks of, 'Might as well.'
Toby walked away with a grin. He thought back to the kind words and free dessert that had brought him out of his blackest depression. 'I hope that pays it back, you two,' he thought towards the bat and blueberry squirrel.
Mr. Xenoiko's waterfall beard nearly obscured his khaki safari suit. He was carrying a gold walking stick with a pearl at the tip so big he couldn't fully wrap his hand around it. Toby suspected it was used primarily for head-bashing. Meanwhile, Lady Mia had left her kimono behind, choosing instead a kind of battle dress. It was satiny pink and gold with an emerald sash tying it together. Quite beautiful, but also leaving her arms and legs unhindered for swift movement. 'I'd like to see her fight,' Toby thought, wondering how she compensated for having one side of her body so massively overpowered.
Together they led Toby towards the center of the carpet. He was once again stunned at the finery. Marble, velvet, silver, and silk. This was beyond first class traveling. More like 0.01st class.
"Hungry?" Lady Xenoiko asked, and directed Toby's attention to a buffet table.
There was the pizza, as promised. As well as fancier dishes and a few examples of Phobiopolan cuisine the mouse couldn't even guess at. "Yes, thank you! I've been doing almost nothing but eating since I got here, but it's been... unpleasant. Looks like my food-luck's changing though." First George's tasty breakfast, now this. Toby grabbed a plate and started filling it up, sampling a bit of everything.
The plan had been passed on through Luxy, so Lady Xenoiko didn't have to ask what the boy had been choking down. "I think you've shown rare courage out here all alone," she told him.
"Damn tootin'!" Ignatius agreed.
"Aw, I... George was with me anyway, and..." Toby blushed, then crammed a truffle in his mouth so he wouldn't have to continue.
Mr. Xenoiko smirked. He tapped Toby very lightly on the noggin with his walking stick. "Heh. I like a man who'd rather keep his mouth shut than crow about hisself."
Toby smiled at that.
"Rest assured, I didn't lead you over here just to fatten you up and fluff your ego," Lady Xenoiko said. The housecatiger moved in closer, placed a paw on Toby's shoulder, and her voice lowered. "To be honest, Junella and Zinc are two very good customers. Perhaps even friends. I have heard worrying things. I was hoping you could give me news, good or bad?"
Toby's ears drooped. "I can, but it's nothing good."
She closed her eyes, conveying that she was prepared for that. "I would like to hear the story anyway, if you are willing to tell it."
Toby nodded.
She reflected for a moment on the mouse who was now filling his plate. Everything about his body language had changed since her first impression. There was caution in him still, but no longer any trace of cowardice. "How about I introduce the others to you? Then we can all have a seat, share a lunch, and you can spin your tale."
"That sounds nice," Toby said.
"Actually, my little kittyhawk," Ignatius said to Mia, "how 'bout you fill me in on th' kid's report later? Now that this big beastie's stopped movin' I'm eager to begin preparations for the upcomin' ballyhoo."
She gave him a nod and a kiss on his old balding head. "I know you like to keep busy, my lion tamer."
"You betcher boots," he said with a wink. He leapt onto her for a quick hug, barely able to wrap both arms around his powerhouse of a bride, then plopped down and offered another parting handshake to Toby.
The mouse had never been so glad to be holding a plate of food. "Oh look, my paws seem to be occupied!"
"Too bad, sonny. You've got a man's handshake. I like that." He gave the mouse a quick salute instead, then turned towards a pile of crates near the six solvent tanks. "Don't smooch m'wife too much or I'll hafta whop you on the head with this here whackin' stick!" Before Toby could react to that, the marmoset sproinged away.
Lady Xenoiko had a giggle behind her paw. "We like to play that I'm his delicate flower in need of protection. He's so adorable when his blood's hot."
"I get the feeling you can probably take care of yourself," Toby said.
A sly smile. "He's fiercer and far more dangerous than he looks," she said. "On the other hand..." With her housecat hand, she reached down to the buffet and selected a walnut. Placing it delicately in the center of her tiger palm, she squeezed. Then she opened her paw and nothing but dust came out.
Toby suddenly remembered her punching through Piffle's exoskeleton. "Yow."
His wide-eyed reaction tickled her. "I will take your plate if you like," she offered.
Toby passed it to her. "Don't do the walnut thing to it."
They both laughed.
"Let us locate the other expeditioners. Aldridge and Tarrare's contemporaries. You may have heard their names. It was a time long ago when all the world was a magic stage."
Toby nodded. "The big war. I've heard a bit about it."
Mia led him past the buffet, along a hallway of trunks, suitcases, and potted palms. "The fact that we are all here in one place shows how true the saying is, 'time heals all wounds'. A century ago, I was a tyrant monstrosity. Our assembled magicians were bitter, bloody rivals. Years pass. Old hates seem silly in reflection. Murderous vendettas become humorous recollections over shared drinks." She shook her head. "I cannot imagine Scaphis' will, to hold onto old grudges for so long. To keep her venom fresh and boiling."
Toby made a disgusted sound. "Let's not talk about her."
Mia's hostess instincts berated her for allowing a guest to become uncomfortable. "I understand." Then her ears perked at the sound of paws rustling through a suitcase.
The feline steered the mouse around a mahogany wardrobe and they came upon an unassuming hyena unpacking his belongings onto a glass coffee table. He looked up as the duo approached.
Toby was a bit surprised. If he was one of the old-timey wizards, he sure didn't look it. He seemed to be in his early twenties. Handsome. Movements were relaxed yet precise. He had the usual hyena spots, dark muzzle and paws, with carefully-combed headfur. The only thing suggestive of his true age was his outfit: tan vest, red tie, black trousers, and spats. Looked pretty sharp on him.
Lady Xenoiko flourished her paw. "It is my pleasure to introduce Ike Fanshaw, The Loudest Man In The World."
Toby tensed at that. Even more so when the guy walked over for a handshake (it was blessedly gentle compared to Mr. Xenoiko's). "Hi," Toby said, expecting a cannon blast for a reply.
Instead, "Hey, yo, what's up? Toby, right? Bleeder says you're the one who blew the horn about Scaphis. Good on you, man."
Toby was pleasantly baffled. The hyena's voice was sweetly smooth as honey. "Uh..."
Ike knew exactly what the mouse was about to ask. He grinned. "I can turn my volume up and down, no sweat and no worries. I'd be a pretty lonely guy if I couldn't."
"Oh, okay." Toby relaxed and smiled too.
"Maybe you'll see me in action someday. Just, y'know, keep some distance. And bring your earmuffs."
"You've certainly got me curious what exactly-" Toby's sentence was overpowered by a sudden screech.
"IKE, YOU LECH! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY FUCKING OPAL NECKLACE!?"
The hyena winced hard.
Xenoiko bit her lip. "That would be the voice of Janie Jing, Goddess Of Dumbfounding."
They did not have to wait long for the voice to make an entrance. Shoving boxes out of her way, a white hurricane approached. "I have told you time upon time to keep OUT of my belongings, Fanshaw! This is really the last of my patience!!"
Ike rolled his eyes so high they scraped the Veil Of Tears. "I ain't touched your shit, Janie."
The outraged bunny stormed over to waggle her finger in his face. "You can't fool me, you shifty-eyed beast! My favorite opal necklace has gone missing! All throughout this accursed trip you've been deliberately provoking me! It's unconscionable!"
This continued on for many more sentences. Toby stared. The most noticeable aspect of Miss Jing was the voluminous white dress she wore. It looked almost like she was on her way to a wedding. It also looked like the dress had been stuffed in a closet for the past century, as it was riddled with holes and wrinkles. Same for her bonnet, which had lost most of its embroidered flowers. But Janie herself was interesting in that she didn't actually have fur, or skin, or possibly even bones. Her body seemed to be hollow white plastic. Thin enough to allow the multicolored, shifting lights inside her to shine through. 'Reminds me of George,' Toby thought. He wondered if the rabbit might be an ascended construct as well. Or transformed, like Junella. She looked like an Easter nightlight.
Janie continued reprimanding Ike, making everyone else uncomfortable. "First the daisies, then the incident with my hat, then your horrid whistling, and now this! You are a cad, Ike Fanshaw! I demand you return my personal property immediately or I shall be forced to inform Mr. Luxy!!"
The hyena looked completely unintimidated, like he'd weathered her outbursts many, many times before. "Oh no, the bigmouthed tattletale's gonna rat me out. For something I didn't do."
Her cheeks shone red, literally. "BIG MOUTH!? Good lord, the hypocrisy of such a statement! You fresh bastard!"
Ike went back to sorting through his suitcase. "My parents were happily married, thanks."
Janie slammed the suitcase lid down, nearly crimping his paws. "WHAT ABOUT MY NECKLACE!?"
Toby jumped back when a halo of guns suddenly popped into existence around her head. Half a dozen oversized pistols held aloft by floating fireballs, all of them pointed at Ike.
The hyena put his hands on his hips. He flicked a glance at the pistols. "Really?"
Janie growled as viciously as a bunny was capable of. The fireballs flamed brighter. Six pistols moved in closer. Six hammers cocked.
Toby tucked himself behind Lady Xenoiko, just to be safe.
Ike reached up to nudge one of the guns away. "It's been a few centuries, but I remember your stage show just as well as you remember mine. This doesn't impress me. So put a sock in it, Sunday."
She glared at him through slitted eyes a moment longer, pouting her mightiest. Then as abruptly as they had appeared, the guns all vanished. Janie stepped back and crossed her arms. "I'll find my necklace, Fanshaw! And when I do, you will be in so much trouble!"
A goofy smile arose on Ike's face. "Is it the one you're wearing?"
Janie looked down at her bosom. A silver chain and an oval opal. She clapped her paws over it. Her inner lights spun wildly. "What!? That's impossi- Oh! YOU PUT THAT THERE, YOU SNAKE!!!"
The hyena fell over the coffee table laughing.
Janie made little bloviating grunts for a moment, trying to construct a last word to get in. When nothing came to mind, she stuck her nose in the air, lifted the hem of her skirt, then departed in a huff. Ike was still chortling.
'I don't think she noticed me the entire time,' Toby thought. He crept out from behind Lady Xenoiko. "Are you sure she's not the loudest furson in the world?"
A polite titter from the housecatiger. "I do not like to speak ill of my comrades. But no, even with that little performance just now, she cannot hold a candle to Ike when he is in full voice." She crouched to whisper in his ear, "And yes, before you ask, they have been like this the whole journey."
Toby blinked. "I'm guessing they have some... history together."
Ike wiped a tear from his eye, still wobbly from the giggles. "You could say that. Our shows used to go head to head for ticket sales."
"She's still pissed at you over that?"
His grin widened. "Oh hell naw, she wants it back again! Some people are only at their happiest when they're hating their best enemy."
Toby felt his mind boggle at that. "I... don't think I understand."
Ike fished a silver dollar out of his vest pocket and flipped it in the air. "A thin line between love and hate, kid. A mighty thin line."
Lady Xenoiko could see Toby struggling to understand things that were well beyond his years. "Let's move on to meet some other friends, shall we?"
Toby did not mind the paw at his back leading him away. He waved to Ike as Lady Xenoiko ushered him around the corner.
The hyena tossed him a 'see ya round' nod and went back to unpacking.
There was something cooking nearby. It smelled spicy and alluring. Though they'd have to wait to find out what it was, as Toby and Mia came upon two very old men seated in the lotus position across from one another. They seemed to be praying. Both were dressed in rumpled robes, looking like mirrored piles of dirty laundry. They were both so smothered in wrinkles, dust, and overgrown facial fur that their species were hard to tell. One was maybe a cervine and the other was maybe a rodent, but they looked more like each other than anything else.
When Toby got a little closer, he heard tinny music. He realized they didn't have their paws clasped together in prayer: they were playing handheld video games. A cable connected their devices. The two ancient bodies were motionless as statues, but their thumbs blazed quick as hummingbirds.
Lady Xenoiko bowed. "This is Waxacada and Driuwej, Masters Of Meditation And Telekinesis."
Toby took a cue from the respect she showed them and bowed as well. "Um, hello, sirs."
No response. Their eyes stayed glued to their games.
Lady Xenoiko patted Toby's shoulder. "They've achieved enlightenment, so they're fairly boring now."
Toby snerked. That seemed a bit rude, but neither of the wizards seemed to mind, or notice.
Mia chuckled. "Hard to believe, but those two used to be worse than Ike and Janie."
Toby looked between them. The two men were essentially one another's reflection. They looked like they'd progressed past best friends to a state of oneness. 'Hard to believe indeed.'
A potato chip floated away from Toby's plate. "Hey-"
It drifted through the air to a point between the duo. There it split in half perfectly, and both halves swooped down beneath the old men's mustaches and out of sight. Chomp chomp chomp.
Toby couldn't help but be amused. "Allright, that was kinda cool."
The sound of two games pausing. Two wrinkly old heads turned towards him incrementally, like stone statues rotating. Two slow winks. Then Driuwej and Waxacada returned to their shared game.
Toby felt like he'd been granted an honor. He asked Xenoiko, "I get the feeling these two are heavy hitters?"
A definitive nod, as if the mouse had no idea just how heavy. "They are resting now. Testing their minds against one another. Saving their energy for the fight. But once they get started..." Xenoiko's expression showed awe and perhaps a bit of fear. "Alone, they moved mountains. Together? I imagine they could tear the world in half if they so chose."
One of them grunted. As if to say, 'Child's play.'
Toby's eyes got big. "Let's not disturb their game then."
A laugh. "If Janie can't disturb them, nothing will. But you is nonetheless thoughtful. Let's go meet our chef."
If that meant finding out what that yummy smell was, Toby was all for it.
Xenoiko led him further towards Red's rump where the six gigantic tankers were stacked. There was a little kitchen there, and at the center of it, a roly-poly woman who looked like the quintessential grandma.
She was singing a waltzlike melody to herself as she stirred a bubbling pot. The liquid inside was a spicy deep umber. The coyote wore a simple black dress, elegant reading glasses, and, somehow, a spice rack across her shoulders. Toby saw her reach back and the shelves shuffled themselves to meet her paw. She took a little canister, gave it a sniff, smiled warmly, and dumped a few shakes into her concoction.
"The esteemed Tía Lopez," Lady Xenoiko introduced, "Peerless Practitioner Of Potioncraft."
"Pleased to peet you," Toby said, then winced. "...meet you."
She turned and beamed at him. "Our little family grows! Another soul to cook for! Lovely!"
Toby chuckled. Tía Lopez had the body of comfortable middle age, the easy confidence of a lifetime's experience, and the mischievous eyes of a child. Naturally, she came out from behind the counter to give him a hug. The wizened coyote was almost perfectly round. Toby felt like he was being swallowed by couch cushions. "Thank you," he said, muffled.
"De nada," she replied, and returned to her cooking after a thorough squeeze.
"How's it progressing?" Xenoiko asked her.
"We will see." She swirled her wooden spoon around, then lifted out a sample and let it cool for a bit. She took a sip. Pure joy touched her face. She dipped out another spoonful. Holding her paw below it, she held it out to Toby. "Try some."
The scent was like summertime in October. Toby sipped. His eyes closed. Warmth caressed him head to toe. His muscles relaxed and his tongue sighed happily. "Mmmm..."
The coyote's tail wagged.
Toby blinked, feeling like he'd been napping on a sunny hill among dandelions. "What is it?"
A swish of the spoon. "It's Tía Lopez' love potion, little grandson mouse."
Toby was mildly alarmed. "Um, who's it supposed to make me fall in love with?"
She pointed to the pot. "The soup, of course."
"Oh! Well, that's okay," he said, chuckling. "And it worked."
She nodded, as if there was no doubt. "May I pour you both a bowl?"
Toby was about to say he didn't think he could eat his whole plate of buffet food plus a bowl of soup, but then his tummy decided, no, he absolutely could. "Yes, thank you."
His politeness pleased her. "Rapido." Two bowls appeared in her palms and she scooped them through the soup. "Now... think of how it made you feel. Imagine the exact opposite. That is what I will brew for Miss Scaphis."
Toby's eyebrows went up.
"Among other things." The coyote grinned toothily.
Soon both Toby's and Mia's paws were warmed by big ceramic mugs full of wonderful soup. "Gracias, Tía Lopez," Xenoiko said. "Your cooking has been the best part of the journey."
She made an 'oh, stop' gesture. "The best part of any journey ought to be one's companions."
Toby nodded deep agreement.
Lady Xenoiko indicated a fat maroon sofa nearby where they could sit. Toby nodded to Mrs. Lopez. "I'll see you later. Thanks for the soup." He gave it another sniff and felt his heart melt a little.
Then a hand was on his wrist.
Toby's head popped up. Tía Lopez was looking directly at him.
She lifted away her glasses. Her eyes probed his.
When she spoke, it was a soft whisper, yet filled with such confident sincerity it froze him to the spot.
"You will do just fine."
Toby was shaken for a moment. The words traveled through him much like the soup had, giving him an all-over feeling. This time it was like a cool washcloth on his forehead. An easing of buried tension. His breath had caught in his throat, and now it relaxed. "Th-thank you."
A nod. "It's true. And you needed to hear it. Now, go eat."
Toby walked away from the smiling curandera, tingling all over. He really couldn't explain it. It didn't seem like Tía Lopez had read his fortune or anything like that. She just knew what to say. Maybe it wasn't even magic, but simple experience.
He sat down on the couch beside Lady Xenoiko, staring into space for a few moments.
"She is wise as she is kind," the feline said. "We would be lucky to have her even without her abilities. Any army needs morale."
"Makes sense," he mumbled absently.
Lady Xenoiko sipped her soup and purred.
Toby tried another spoonful as well. In an instant, he was somewhere far away.
They sat together quietly for a while, just enjoying their meal. Somewhere nearby they could hear Janie and Ike arguing again, but it didn't matter. The day was bright, their paws were warm, and their bellies were filled with good food.
Once Toby had finished his bowl (and licked it clean) he started in on his other tidbits. Most of it had cooled off, but still tasted good. Toby didn't bother to ask what some of the stranger items were. It was interesting to try new things.
And as he chewed, his story began to tumble out. Lady Xenoiko sat with her paws in her lap and listened attentively. Toby skipped a few details for brevity, but told her all he could about the furson who had been Doll for a while. He told her what had happened to Junella, Zinc, and Piffle. And to George. And himself. He told her about his plan, and she agreed it was a good one.
She was sorry to hear what had happened to their mutual friends. She said it made the fire inside her burn hotter. This time, Scaphis was through. She admitted they had once been friends. Scaphis' silver tongue drew in many, many admirers and acquaintances. Everyone loved her, or at least respected her abilities. But in the end, she herself loved no one. Xenoiko's deal with Scaphis had eventually led to her dual-natured body and her marriage to Ignatius. But it was a bloody, painful path along the way. Something it had taken her decades to make amends for.
"Scaphis has poisoned everything her hands have ever touched."
The peaceful mood the soup had brought them had grown somber. Toby felt like the day's warmth had chilled. He noticed the empty bowl in front of Lady Xenoiko. He was done with his tray as well. That gave him an idea.
"Hey, um, I ate more than you. That's not fair, don't you think?"
Lost in her thoughts, it took her a second to respond. "Hm? Oh, no. Think nothing of it. I am satisfied."
Toby leaned back against the couch. He opened his vest wider, showing off his bare chest. "You sure? Cuz, if you like, you could have dessert."
She raised an eyebrow, thinking momentarily this was a come-on. Then she smelled his beating heart. Her eyes widened. "...You remembered."
Toby nodded.
She put a paw to her mouth, shocked by his generosity. "You'd... Really? You were so afraid before! I teased you, but I wasn't serious."
Toby remembered her feasting on his friends. Piffle's excitement. Zinc's blissfully dazed grin. "I've been through a lot since then. The idea doesn't scare me anymore. So, yeah. If you need hearts," he patted his ribs, "one's right here."
A tear came to her eye. "Normally I acquire them in trade. Strictly a business transaction. Only friends I have known for a very long time will offer them freely. You and I... we have only met twice."
Toby shrugged. "I like to make my friends happy."
She gave him a deep, genuine smile in return. "Your generosity honors me."
Toby blushed. He found he was actually looking forward to this now. Not just the good feeling of generosity, but also to confront a previous fear. "So how do we...?"
She motioned for him to turn around with his back against the armrest, facing her. She leaned in close, drawing in the scent of his flowing blood. She began to purr again. "As I recall, I told your companion Piffle what a delight it is to taste a heart I've never harvested before. Thank you for this moment, Toby."
"You're welcome." She put her tiger paw against his shoulder to steady him. It felt as big and leathery as a baseball glove.
Her smile gained a pixyish edge. "Let us make this a challenge. Mister deLeon, I dare you to stay alive for as long as you can. Are you game?"
"Uh..." He was a bit surprised, but why not? "Allright." She loomed over him. Toby felt a dainty white palm press against his chest. His heart beat against it.
"It will happen quickly. There will be pain, but less than you expect. I have years of skill on my side."
Toby was starting to sweat a bit. "I t-trust you."
She nodded. "Then, itadakimasu. A phrase which can mean, 'I humbly receive'."
Toby remembered that from a book he'd read. And then a gunshot hit him in the chest.
SPLUNCH
He gasped a rattling croak.
"Shhh," she said.
He tasted blood in his mouth. The pain had filled his world for a second, a blinding lightning strike. But soon it faded, replaced by a strange, dancing numbness. Oddly familiar. Four of his ribs were smashed to splinters. His brain was probably dumping out gallons of endorphins to counter the shock.
Xenoiko purred. "I have my fingers around your red apple, little mouse."
Toby glanced down. Her paw was inside his chest up to the wrist. She'd made a surprisingly tiny hole. There was blood painted all the way up to her elbow like a red silk glove.
"No, no, little mouse. Don't look at that. Look at me." Her voice was hypnotic. Her eyes met his and held them in place. "Stay here. Relax yourself. There is nothing at all to fear."
A bit hard to believe, but that voice of hers could've persuaded him of just about anything. Toby's body had never felt sensations like this before. The pain had changed into something... good. His skin tingled like falling raindrops. His hearing dimmed. His toes and tail grew cold. Her amber eyes cradled him.
He flinched as he felt her hand moving around his insides. Then there was a swift little twist.
"Keep your eyes on me. Stay awake, my mouse."
Toby obeyed. He saw a wet, red jewel emerge into his field of vision.
"See? See your gift that you have so generously given? It feels liberating to give of yourself, doesn't it? It feels good. You are not afraid. You are in no pain. You will stay awake with me because it is pleasant to."
"I'll... try..." he gurgled. He tasted copper. A line of red traced down his cheek from the corner of his mouth.
Lady Xenoiko held his gaze with the same assuredness as she cupped his still-beating heart. She brought it to her lips for a kiss.
Toby was starting to feel light-headed. From the impossible sight, and also because his brain was losing oxygen. He watched his heart twitch back and forth in her hand like a little soft metronome. 'Leftover electrical impulses,' he thought. She licked it like a strawberry popsicle. Then he watched as she opened wide, gasped in pleasure, and bit down.
Her expression of joy made him happy.
A wave hit his brain and seemed to wash his balance away. His flopping head nearly hit the armrest, but Xenoiko caught and cradled it in her tiger paw.
"Mama's got you..."
She wasn't really his mama, Toby's soupy mind recalled. His real mama was mean. But if Lady X wanted to play pretend for a moment, then that was oooo-kay. Better than okay.
His eyes started to get funny then. He kept them open and tried to hold onto consciousness, but it was a foregone battle. Dark curtains began to sweep the sides of his vision, followed by nifty colorful sparkles. Euphoric. Weightless. Giggly. He smiled at the pretty lady who was drinking his heartsblood.
She smiled at him too. He was nearly deaf by now, but two of her words made it through. "...so sweet..."
Toby thought that was an awful nice thing for her to say. His neck felt wobbly. He couldn't feel his arms and legs. Maybe they ran away? His heart turned pale pink as Xenoiko sucked it dry. Fascinating. He really wanted to stay awake for the rest of the show, but his brain wasn't being cooperative. His vision grew fuzzier, more indistinct, until the sparkles became fireworks and took over. Everything else shut off.
Toby felt his head fall backwards against the armrest.
'That was fun...'
-***-