Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
Chapter 83
"You seem to have kept yourself busy, Sire Toby."
"George!" Toby put down the crates he'd been carrying and nearly tripped over Ike's tail in his haste for a hug. He squeezed the old dry skeleton and felt an ashy jawbone nuzzle behind his ear. "Yeah! I had a great lunch, and Lady Xenoiko did too, and I met the rest of the group, and I've been helping them get ready. How'd it go with Luxy?"
The stallion snickered schadenfreudally. "Our captive presented him no trouble at all! Despite speaking malodorous untruths to him the likes of which I would never repeat to you, Sir Bleeder is no fool. He offered her the chance to prove to him that zealous rage trumps calm reason. He let her out of the cage."
Toby was about to ask how, but figured, if anyone was likely to have tools for the job in his pockets, it was Luxy. "Did they fight?" he asked (knowing the answer already, but really asking 'How bad was it?')
A guffaw. "It was a ballet, Sire Toby. I have never seen such grace. As she charged at him with teeth and claws bared, Sir Bleeder withdrew a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his suit. He tossed both items into the air, then caught a lit cigarette in his mouth and the packet on top of his head. He left them balanced there, and kept his hands in his jacket pockets for the entirety of the brawl."
Toby's eyes widened. At first he thought this was yet another example of a showman's arrogance. But no. "...He was handicapping himself, wasn't he? So she'd have a fair chance."
"Exactly so. But her swings and lunges were feral. Easily dodged. With naught but the soles of his shoes, he wore her down to panting. She lay in the sand, begging for mercy, yet without ever ceasing her stream of venomous insults."
"Does not surprise me," Toby said. "So where're they now?"
George motioned over to the edge of Red. "He has requested to meet with you."
Toby walked towards the precipice of the giant construct's back. Everything outside the city's walls was normally choked by a living carpet of bloodsucking greenery. Down below though, there was a bald spot. Every vine in a hundred foot radius was shriveled to a husk. Luxy Bleeder sat on a rectangular tank of Phobiopolan weed killer, still smoking, and still with the cigarette packet resting between his ears. He spotted Toby and waved.
"I've wanted to go over the details with him anyway." Toby turned around to where the other members of the expedition were boxing up furniture and unboxing implements of destruction. Waxacada and Driuwej were simply glancing at crates and conscripting them to move. Janie was directing a wheelbarrow, its handles held by two of her fireballs. Toby called out to everyone, "I'm gonna go talk to Luxy! Will you guys be okay without me?"
Lady Xenoiko smiled. She reached down to the box he'd been lugging before and picked it up between two fingers of her tiger paw.
Ike quipped, "We'll manage somehow."
Toby laughed. "Allright, see you later everyone!" He walked back to George and patted his flank. "What'll you be doing?"
"I believe, if I am not immediately needed, that it would be pleasant to spend some time in the company of my fellow construct."
A smile. "I think both you and Red are pretty lucky to have met each other."
"Very much agreed."
Toby touched his forehead to George's. "Go have fun then."
"Call out if you need me, Sire Toby," George replied, then trotted towards Red's noggin. Toby heard him hop down, and then came the skin-crawling scrape of hooves on rusted metal. A scalp massage.
Wincing, Toby decided that this was a good cue to exit. He looked towards the grey clouds beyond the edge of the rustbeast. For a moment he wished he'd asked George for an elevator ride. 'But I really don't need one,' he thought. Let the two constructs hobnob. There was still a bit of Coral left in him.
Toby ran towards the edge, remembering the cliffs of Scarlatina.
The rust disappeared from beneath his feet. Only air carried him. Then it let him go. Eyes closed, Toby tumbled, unafraid.
Well, maybe a little. But manageable.
Toby hit the ground headfirst and his skull shattered. Dead again. Business as usual.
***
When Toby opened his eyes, the face of a pine marten was looking back at him.
"EEEYAH!!!" he yelped.
A silver hammer emerged by reflex and cleaved her head down the middle.
Luxy started laughing his ass off.
Vienna's corpse tilted backwards like a fallen tree. Before it hit dirt, Toby scrambled to his feet again, hammer at the ready, eyes peeled for wherever her next reanimation would appear.
"Relax, rodent!" Luxy called out. "The cagey dame's neutralized."
Toby still flinched when Vienna popped into existence a few feet away. The sniper turned and recognized him. Her eyes blazed. Unholy hatred gushed from her glare. Her lips curled, showing teeth.
Toby backed up a step. Gripped his hammer tight.
Luxy leaned forward nonchalantly, chin resting on hand. "Kurushimeru..."
The marten swiveled towards him, suddenly stricken with panic. "Please! No!"
He considered her plea. Rejected it. But felt slightly merciful. "...twelve seconds."
She dropped to the ground like a rock. Her back arched in an almost completed circle. Vienna started clawing at her body like she was trying to rip her own veins out. She wasn't even able to scream.
And then the whatever-it-was ended, leaving her shuddering in the dirt, saliva dripping from her cheeks.
Horrified, Toby shuffled away from her. "What was that!?"
The mayor beamed proudly. He flicked his cigarette away into the vines. Then he tossed his head, letting the pack glide down into his jacket pocket. "I told her I infected her with a well-trained virus I keep in a box. But really, it's nothing more than a post-hypnotic suggestion. I'm priddy decent at thems."
The mouse looked back. The marten was slowly and shakily getting to her feet. It was hard to believe mere words could do that to a furson. "...Really?"
Luxy snorted at the lad's skepticism. "What's Cleanup Crew's original name?" he asked.
Toby drew a blank. "Touché."
"Mmm, I love hearing that word." Luxy patted the tank he was seated on. It sounded like a bongo beat. "C'mere, Slick. We got bizz-nizz to hash out."
As he took his seat, Toby noticed the tank had a speckled texture that felt odd on his bare legs. It also jiggled slightly from the liquid inside. Toby didn't like being so close to whatever this stuff was, but figured, if Luxy wasn't afraid of it... He cast another glance at the marten woman. He could see she was staggering a bit from the aftershocks.
"Keep killin' them weeds, Vienna!!" Luxy shouted. "And buck up! I could do so much worse to you than community service!"
She fumed for a moment, then limped over to her previous body. It was wearing a plastic backpack which she roughly wrestled off. Putting it on, she took the attached wand and started spraying the vines that had already grown closer in an attempt to feast on her corpse. Whatever liquid was in the backpack, it knocked them out quick.
Toby felt kind of uneasy at seeing her reduced to slave labor. But then he remembered the sock full of snot. And he didn't say a word more about her.
Luxy looked around at the countryside. "Rhinolith ain't a bad place for a picnic if you salt the earth first. You've met the wily Ignatius D. Xenoiko, I presume? He and I camped out here once. Scoutin' potential species for a construct-powered transportation system. Big old hamster wheels in generators. Boy did that end up a clusterfuck!"
Toby opened his mouth to remark on that, when something he'd been seeing since his landing suddenly clicked. He gawked at Red's legs. "I'd been wondering how the heck he showed up here without making a sound!"
Luxy nodded, glad the kid had finally noticed. "The Ectopian Corps Of Engineers knows by now I come up with some pretty loopy shit. So when their god-king asks 'em outta the blue for the six biggest rollerskates in all the universe, those magnificent fuckers follow through."
Toby had thought it was just because of his own shoddy memory that Red seemed taller. But no, the construct was currently balanced on six brontosaurus-sized sets of furniture casters. Thick metal slabs slotted over his square feet. Underneath each was a huge black cylinder, like a steamroller. Toby wasn't sure whether to be more impressed that someone had built these insane things, or that Red had learned to use them so well in such a short time. "They seem a little... cartoony."
Luxy shrugged, not contesting the accusation. "Maybe. But sometimes goofy works. Stealth and speed, plus the sheer giddiness of riding a rollerskating nightmare across a sea of broken glass. We made great time when we weren't dicking around doin' science to Scaphis. Heck, worth the price alone just to bypass those goddam loops on the highway. They make me urk." He mimed a gagging gesture.
Toby was glad to hear that he wasn't the only furson not fond of them.
"Hey, there's a smile on ya! Lovely! When I got here, you looked like an armada of unruly rugrats'd been using you for a piñata. And you know how I feel about people not having a good time!" His famous silver pistols slid out of his wrist holsters into his palms.
Toby jumped. "You don't have to shoot me! I remember!"
A giggle. "Nah. I just like holdin' em." He rubbed them against his cheekfur, moaning, "GOD, they're so perfectly weighted!" He blinked, then cast an envious peek at the mouse's hammer. Luxy nibbled his lip. "You, uh... mind if we swap for a second? I just wanna touch it! Promise!"
Toby tilted his head, then realized what he was still clutching. The marten had spooked him enough he'd forgotten to put it back. "I guess?" He was still uneasy about guns, but figured Luxy probably didn't let just anyone touch his personal pistols, so this was probably an opportunity any other Phobiopolan wouldn't be caught dead passing up. He sat his hammer on the tank between them.
Luxy snatched it up like any stereotypical raccoon with a shiny object. In the same motion, he uncaringly flicked his guns at Toby, trusting the mouse to catch them.
"Yeek!!" Toby nearly fumbled, but managed to get his hands around both of them before they hit the ground. 'And I didn't shoot my feet off!'
The raccoon appraised the hammer, licking his lips. "God, I'm so shamelessly a kid around weapons. I gotta play with 'em." He gave the tool a few practice swishes. "A little small for my hand, but, yeah, I can feel the quality."
Toby realized the pistols were way lighter than he'd been expecting. When he turned them upright and slid the grips into his palms, their weight seemed to vanish entirely. They seemed to almost have a life of their own. "Jesus..."
"Not quite, but close: Red Velvet. He make this little number too?" He laughed at his own stupid question. "No, dipshit! Velv' wouldn't have," he scolded himself. "Dorster, right?"
"Uh-huh." Toby handed the pistols back, a bit overwhelmed by their aura of effortless power. "You know him too?"
"Sure. Same as I know she's Vienna Tusk and you're Toby deLeon. I know everyone. Part of my job." Before giving the hammer back, a glint of curiosity came to Luxy's eye. He reholstered one pistol, held the other to his ear, then gave it a soft tap with the hammer. The sound made him nod. "I thought so. They're both dream-steel. They like each other."
Toby accepted his hammer back and let it slide home into his arm. "That makes sense. Dorster said it came from Phobiopolis itself, not from imaginite. That makes it stronger, I guess."
"Not just stronger, more real," Luxy said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Maybe it's the demented conspiracy theories of a lunatic raccoon, but I figure, just maybe, every time one of these babies shows up, it's for a reason. The dead god we're sitting on vomited quite a lot in the beginning, but ever since then it's been more sporadic. So, maybe it... I dunno, 'feels' us walking around on its back. Like Red. And it wants to help. So it dreams us something we need. Some people walk right past theirs. You, Toby, were lucky or smart enough to be observant."
The mouse was a bit thunderstruck. The compliment passed right by him. "You know about the star-being too!?"
A solemn nod. "I know a lot of things. But, eh, the thing about your hammer and my pea-shooters is just wild speculation. Probably just... what I'd like to believe."
Toby became aware then that Luxy was calmer than he'd ever seen him before. Maybe this was the 'real' Luxy. Or maybe the manic side never really left. Toby noticed, even as the raccoon gazed thoughtfully towards the horizon, his leg was jittering up and down impatiently.
"I think I get it," Toby ventured. "Aldridge told me about the star-being, but it took a while to really process it and understand Logdorbhok's not all there is. There's all this ugly stuff on the surface of Phobiopolis, and that's easy to see. But underneath there's something that keeps the ugliness from taking over."
As Toby spoke, Luxy slowly brushed his hands over his scalp, staring at nothing. "You speak his name without a flinch..."
"What?"
The raccoon suddenly sat up straight and painted on a breezy smile, as if he hadn't said anything at all. "You're right, you're totally right! The glass is just as half-full as it is half-empty. For me though? Ha! This world's always been a paradise." He ticked reasons off on his fingers. "You never starve, you never grow old, you can murder people to your heart's content and at most they're mildly annoyed. Plus you're never broke so long as you have enough will!" He sighed happily and drew in a deep breath of fresh air.
"I hadn't thought of it like that before. Those are some pretty good points." Toby looked away for a moment, not sure if it was wise to press the issue. "...You said something else though."
Luxy groused at being caught. "Nosy, nosy." He stood up suddenly and began to pace around the tank and Toby. The mouse had to rotate his head to follow him. "This'd look so much better with a cape," Luxy mumbled to himself, then reluctantly confided, "I know about The Cruelest One too."
Toby nodded, not too surprised. Luxy knew everyone, after all.
"I don't like to discuss him though. It weirds me out just knowing I'm sitting next to someone who survived his taint firsthand. That... joggles my worldview a bit. All we know of him otherwise is myths and glimpses."
Toby listened to the raccoon's voice circle around him like a surround-sound demo. "I'm fine with not talking about him. Though I can if you want me to later."
Luxy stopped. "You're talking now. Your brain's not chowderized. That oughtn't be possible. This is good. But it's also information that upsets a lot of previous theories I had. It's going to take a while to reset them."
"We can talk about Scaphis instead," Toby offered. "Figure out what we're going to do about her."
Luxy took off, rapidly circled, then stopped again in the same spot. "Let's be honest. We don't really need to."
Toby was taken aback. "We don't!?"
A shake of the head, 'nuh-uh'. "We went over the plan in your letters. I still have 'em. It's solid. It'll work. The only question mark is you." He paused long enough to dramatically point at the mouse, then resumed pacing.
"Me?" Toby's ears drooped. He felt suddenly heavier. A long-expected dread settled over him. "I guess this was inevitable," he said quietly. "This is the part where you take over, isn't it?"
Luxy skidded to a halt. Tilted his head. "Why would you think that!?"
Toby's hands made an 'isn't it obvious?' gesture. "You're stronger and smarter than me! Plus you've fought her before. It didn't really click until now, but of course that was the flaw in my plan. I put you on second string and me on the front line. It ought to be reversed."
Luxy walked back a few steps to stand directly in front of Toby. And to the mouse's surprise, the raccoon looked offended to the point of heartbreak. "Kid... do you really think so little of me?"
Toby gave him a blank look. "Huh...?"
The mayor snarled a sigh and ran his fingers through his headfur. "Do you actually think I'd steal your revenge like that?"
"Well, I didn't mean it like that," Toby said in a small voice. "It's just, you’re more suited for..."
Flat and matter-of-fact: "No, I'm not."
Toby was utterly befuddled. "How can you NOT be!? You're the freakin' god-king of Ectopia Cordis! I'm just some mouse!"
Luxy gave him a dirty glare, like his offense had switched targets. "That's the talk of someone trying to wiggle off the path he's on."
"No!" Toby protested, starting to panic a little. "Honestly, I do want to fight her! It feels like my responsibility. I'm just trying to put myself aside and think logically about the plan and what'll work best. That's what I've done this whole time! It's why I called on you and the others instead of just barging in on her like some stupid fairytale knight. I'm trying to be humble."
Luxy's expression didn't soften. "There's humble, and then there's bullshit. Toby, this is exactly why I just called you a question mark."
The young mouse's paws curled into fists. His brows drew down. "What do you want from me then!? I don't get it! Why are we suddenly mad at each other?"
"I'm not mad," Luxy said firmly. "I'm just thinking of the plan as well. I can see the board, I can see the pieces. But one of them keeps... flickering." He placed one padded fingertip in the center of Toby's forehead.
Toby jerked back from it. "Then what do you want me to say?"
Luxy rotated the finger into a 'wait a moment' gesture. "For now, listen. First: understand that I would never take this away from you. I understand vendettas. They're personal. Maybe even sacred. You and Scaphis have conflict now; I settled mine. This is the sequel, with a brand new cast for the returning villain. So my team's gonna be on mop-up work. That's fine. That is fine."
"Allright," Toby acknowledged.
Luxy turned away and began to pace again. Toby wished he'd stop that. "Secondly: you're being less logical than you think. I'm not gonna disagree that I'm stronger and smarter. Though that's no knock against you, cadet. Same's true for everyone else on the face of this floating space scab."
Toby rolled his eyes. Luxy's ego could not stay penned for long.
A wriggling, pointed finger passed by Toby's nose. "Think. What advantage do you have over me? Or even Aldridge?"
"I..." Toby blinked. "I wasn't aware I had any. Unless you're about to say something sappy like, 'because I care about my friends, and true caring always beats a cold, mean heart'?"
Luxy nearly choked laughing. "HAAA! No, kid, no! Evil triumphs frequently! I'm not gonna be a cryptic asshole about this and make you waste more time playing a guessing game. It's this:" He circled around til he was facing Toby again. "I beat her my way. Aldridge beat her his way. She will be expecting those."
Toby hadn't thought to calculate for that. But it slotted perfectly into place as soon as he did. "I have a different mind."
Again with the pacing. "More than that, my little chickadee, you have a new mind. Phobiopolis is a closed system, remember? Every new soul brings in a little more information from the mortal world. Something that wasn't here before. And you, Toby, might as well be a space alien compared to the majority. Don't ask me why because I dunno. Maybe Earth's just changed that much in the past few decades. But kid, one of your greatest strengths is, you have no fucking idea what you're doing!!"
"Well, thanks," Toby said sourly.
Luxy strangled the air in front of him. "That was a COMPLIMENT, you asshole!! Do you effing realize that people here have been trying, for eons, to do stuff that you've zoomed through like a goddamned rocket sled? You had help, yes. Every generation of new souls brings us all a little closer. But the fates fucking lined up for you like someone held a gun to their heads. You lucked out into the perfect combination: getting the gist of how crap here works without all the baggage that comes from centuries of being stuck in a rut." He stopped and clutched the mouse's shoulders from behind, making him squeak. "You aren't chained to our patterns, Toby. You've got the big picture but none of the nitpicky details. You don't know what won't work, so it does."
Toby froze up. "I hit the moon with a paint can once," he remembered.
"I don't even know what that means! But I'm sure it was equal parts brilliant and stupid! Which is the napalm of combinations! The URANIUM of combinations!!"
Toby started to sweat. "Does this mean my plan won't work, now that you've told me it won't?"
Luxy whirled around the tank in a heartbeat, sitting down and gripping Toby by the snout to drill his words in deep. "It will. Because the only thing that'd stop it from working if oldies like me tried it is because WE know it wouldn't."
Toby thought he understood the subtle distinction there. When Luxy let go of his nose, the mouse said, "The whole thing runs on willpower."
A nod. A very, very pleased nod. "Exactly. Nothing in this world truly exists beyond the perceptions of those perceiving it. What you see, is what you get."
Toby nodded too. "Allright." He had a feeling that even talking about this was dangerous. Will was the power of action minus doubt. Perfect faith in one's self. Believing in something so completely that the world relented and made it so. Toby worried that dwelling on it might cause him to lose the ability.
But he brought that worry to a halt. His plans were logical. Even if they were his own constructed logic, not present anywhere in Phobiopolis before his arrival, they made sense to him. And he could feel a confidence in his calculations far above his confidence in himself.
"You haven't asked me what your other strength is yet," Luxy pointed out, noticing that the kid was starting to drift.
"Huh? What is it?"
Luxy folded his arms behind the small of his back and resumed pacing. Toby growled a little. "Lemme go back to that little chat we had when I first arrived. You said you crossed Dysphoria, right?"
Toby craned his neck over his shoulder, trying to pinpoint the raccoon. "Yeah."
From another direction: "And you've seen Ol' Floaty McShitcranium."
"Yes. Whatever his name is, I've seen him."
A crisp nod, as if this was a simple matter of putting the facts in order. "And you have also tread foot upon yonder mountain Anasarca?"
Toby already felt like he was being grilled by Sherlock Holmes, but that put it over the top. "Yes. I sat in Aldridge's living room."
Toby felt hot breath.
Luxy's snout was now a whisker away from his ear.
Whispered, plainly: "That's three things I haven't done."
Toby spun around, but the raccoon was already in motion again. "Seriously!? But you're the illustrious Luxy Bleeder! I kinda thought you'd done... well, everything!"
Luxy stopped in front of the mouse to reply, then his expression blanked for a moment. "Illustrious Luxy... Illuxstrious?" he tucked that thought away for later, returning to himself. "No, kid. For one, I've never had a reason to fuck around with Dysphoria. And Whats-His-Ugly even less. I like it here! Why would I wanna follow the yellow brick road to the exit?"
"I thought you and Aldridge knew each other though."
A shoulder-hunching shrug. "Well yeah, but we weren't buddies! He sure as hell never invited me back to his place for tea and Twister." His demeanor seemed halfway between petulant offense and regret for what might have been. Luxy scowled and wrenched the topic back to Toby. "Point is..." he spoke his next words with an unexpected tremble in his voice. "you might actually be the toughest thing in the world."
Toby's mouth fell open. He gawked as if the biggest pile of horseshit in the universe had just cascaded out of Luxy's mouth. "You're KIDDING! Don't lie to me like that!"
The raccoon's jaw twitched. He did not like the L-word. "I'm not," he enunciated firmly.
Toby seemed about to jump up in outrage, then sat back down awkwardly. "No! I don't need my self-esteem pumped up with a bunch of hot air! Look at me! I'm tough? Are you out of your mind!?"
Without warning, the mayor lifted his leg and planted a door-breaking kick dead center in Toby's chest.
It would have snapped a half-dozen ribs if Luxy hadn't held back. As it was, the mouse definitely went flying off the tank and thudded into the dirt. Pain shot through his spine from the clumsy impact. His eyes popped open. His breath had been literally knocked out of him. He looked towards Luxy, hurt and confused.
With his long, lean legs, the raccoon stepped up onto the chemical tank. His eyes were fixed on Toby's like a hawk. All mirth and mercy were gone from his face. Cold as stone.
Toby dragged air into his lungs, then was back on his feet. Still gasping. Staring wildly. Twitching like a nonev.
The raccoon was looming above him, glaring daggers into Toby's soul with eyes like burning embers. Using the full force of his presence, he bore down upon the small mouse like the crushing fist of God. He commanded, "STAY DOWN!!!"
It wasn't even a matter of disobeying: Toby's hammer melted into his hand on pure reflex. The mouse's eyes were wide in panic, but he set his stance automatically. Frightened out of his mind, but instantly tensed to fight.
Seeing that, Luxy's rage melted. The mask of anger fell away, and he could hardly speak above a whisper. "Unbelievable. Without even hesitating..."
Toby gulped down enough breath to shriek, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!?"
Luxy's slack mouth began to curl at the edges into a stupefied smile. "When we first met, you could barely meet my gaze. White as a sheet. But look at you now. Weapon at the ready. And if I came at you, you'd swing."
Toby glanced down at his hammer, but then quickly back at the raccoon who'd attacked him out of nowhere. Though, from the change in Luxy's body language, Toby was starting to understand this had all been a test. A really goddam mean one. And somehow, he'd passed. "Yes?"
The smile turned into a full-fledged grin. Luxy shrugged and giggled. "You just proved my point."
"What!?"
"You got back up, Toby," the raccoon said reverently. "You get back up. It's what you keep doing. That's toughness."
Softer now, still disbelieving. "...What?"
"You've seen me fight. I kill crowds. I could end you in a snap. You knew that. But when I acted like a bully, you stood up to me. That simple. No thought to whether you'd lose; you were willing to try. You are unbreakable."
Toby exhaled and inhaled, still feeling his ribs throb in the shape of Luxy's boot. He was kind of infuriated, but also kind of impressed. The proof was clutched in his own right hand.
Still looking at Toby with the fondness of a mentor seeing his protégé's emergence from the cocoon, Luxy called over his shoulder, "Of course I hear your footsteps, idiot. You only think you're stealthy. Kurushimeru, two minutes."
Vienna Tusk gurgled in agony and thrashed around in the dirt for a bit.
Toby looked behind them. The marten had gotten within thirty feet. He felt a bit embarrassed about that. "I should've been paying attention."
Luxy made a 'no biggie' gesture. "You've got a lot on your mind. Sorry about trampling your sternum. No hard feelings?" He walked over and offered his hand.
Toby narrowed his eyes at it. Then glared at Luxy for a few seconds. Then shook the hand. "Fine. Point made. Thanks, I guess."
"I play rough," the raccoon said apologetically. "Plus, I'm an impatient bastard who'd much rather perform a hands-on demonstration if I think it'll shortcut-GYEEEIIAHHH!!"
That was the sound Luxy made when Toby surreptitiously shot out his hammer against the coon's kneecap. Not very hard. Just enough.
The mouse smirked rather sadistically. "There. Now there's no hard feelings."
Luxy cradled his poor knee and stared in utter shock at the mouse. "I didn't think you'd do that! I mean, I saw your fingers flex, but I didn't think you'd do it. And not that HARD! Fuckaroonie!" He hissed in pain. "Sweet hot scrotums, I like you, kid!!" His pained rictus turned into a highly-amused grin.
Toby looked slightly chagrined. "Maybe I'm surprising both of us today."
Giggling now, Luxy flexed his leg and checked for bone splinters.
Toby sighed, then sat back down on the tank with his chin resting in his open palms. Even if the raccoon approved, he still felt a surge of guilt about the petty trick. The pre-Phobiopolis Toby never could have done that, or even thought it up. "You wanna know something? I'll be honest, after this whole past week, or month, or whatever... I've changed so much I hardly recognize myself. You were right to call me a question mark."
"Nah, that was about your willingness to fight. I don't doubt that now," Luxy corrected. He limped over and sat beside him. "I'm fully convinced you're capable of putting on your Junior Bastard League cap whenever you choose. But the inner conflict jazz? Pfft. It's normal. Your conscience's having growing pains. In fact, if there ever comes a point where you're making all your decisions with 100% moral certainty, THAT's the time to start worrying about yourself."
Toby mulled that over and gave it a 'fair point' sound. "But you're a judge. And you seem so certain about all your decisions."
"I seem to, yes," Luxy agreed. "Only 'cuz my process is three-quarters reflex and too quick to see. Practice creates the illusion of ease. Really, until I get the facts, I'm always seeing every side of every problem simultaneously. A living prism. That's why I always prefer to steer people into making my job easier by showing me their guilt or innocence. It's pathetically easy once you get good at it."
Toby thought about that. He swayed his tail back and forth, making patterns in the dirt. He watched Vienna finally unclench herself and scurry over to kill more weeds lest Luxy become displeased with her again.
Finally Toby asked the question that had been on his mind the longest. From between his hands he mumbled, "How did you beat Scaphis the first time?"
Luxy nodded, having anticipated it'd be asked. "You mean me and Aldridge. I can't take sole credit. Much as I'd like to." He leaned back and braced himself against the tank with his flat palms, looking up to the sky, possibly to Anasarca. "Short version: I riled her up and he took the shot. It took a long time, but I got close to her through a lot of lies and flattery. Some of it was even sincere. There's something to admire in someone that skilled at getting what they want." His eyes glazed, wondering how things might have been if... "Anyway, I feigned weakness. Then when the time was right, I backstabbed her right up the tailpipe. ...Figuratively, not literally."
Toby was kind of glad he'd clarified.
Luxy was about to continue, then remembered what Toby had said had befallen his friends. "Sorry if I put that idea in her head, 'do unto others before they do unto you'."
Toby closed his eyes.
A sigh. "I took everything I could from her in one snap of my fingers. Had to. Knew I'd never have time for anything else. Besides escaping, I mean. The plan was simply to get her out of her mind with rage, because a clear-headed Scaphis is a Scaphis you are screwed against. That's a big reason I like your plan so much; you figured that out on your own. For me, once I had her fuming at full steam, Aldridge stepped in and cast a whammy on her." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, you don't have that in your arsenal this time. In fact, with her having absorbed the wand, it's almost like you'll be fighting a Scaphis-Aldridge hybrid." He made a 'sheesh' face. "Sucks to be you."
"Oh, that makes me feel great," Toby snarked.
"It gets even worse!" Luxy said cheerfully. "Because, you know why she's scarfing up whole towns, right? I've seen her do this before with her cult buddies. The plastic's a new thing, and gotta give her credit for turning a curse into an advantage-"
"I thought she was engulfing people to preemptively stop anyone from opposing her?"
A shake of the head. "Nonono, that's just part of it. Why's she keeping them alive then? Why's she not just chucking handfuls of 'em into Dysphoria like she used to? That was practically her favorite sport."
Toby pondered it. "She's using them somehow?"
Luxy's smile did not conceal the horror he felt at the true breadth of the revelation. "They're willpower-batteries."
The fur on Toby's neck stood up and his pupils shrank to dots. "Oh CRAP, that makes so much SENSE!!"
"You really didn't know?" Luxy asked, surprised. "I thought you'd figured that out at least partway."
"No! Although I guess I should have." He chewed his fingernails. "God, it explains a lot! Why would someone who doesn't care about anyone else not just destroy them utterly? My best guess was that she wanted the feeling of having them in her control."
"You were not wrong about that," Luxy said, patting his shoulder. "That's part of every decision she makes."
Toby felt a bit better. "I just wanted you and everyone else here because, if you succeed, suddenly you'll have all of Rhinolith fighting alongside you, mad as hell."
Luxy nodded. "Perfectly good reasoning all on its own. And they'll make good allies when the time comes. We won't even have to ask them to fight. Guaranteed, their first instinct will be to fuck her up with anything they can grab."
Toby could not fathom the pent-up rage of spending weeks upon weeks locked up in the palm of your worst enemy's hand.
"But what it also means," Luxy said, "izzat the more souls we free, the weaker she gets."
Toby's ears perked.
"I mean, she'll still be a nigh-invincible boss monster with that goddamn wand anyway, but it oughtta make some difference, right?"
Sarcasm aside, Toby did derive quite a bit of comfort from the idea. Maybe he'd have something to gauge how well the fight was going once he was in the thick of it. A countdown timer.
The mouse leaned back so he was looking at the sky too. "Maybe it is practically nothing, but at least it's good news. I've been knee-deep in bad for a while now. And I think I've also been doubting, deep down inside, whether or not I'm just insane. Whether I really can do anything at all."
"You got back up when I ordered you not to," Luxy offered.
"Yes," Toby acknowledged, and rubbed where his chest still felt sore. "But endurance is only part of it. I can only get back up so many times. And if she can just keep knocking me back down forever, it won't matter."
The raccoon crossed one leg over the other and kicked it back and forth. "What is it you're really worried about, kid?"
Toby let his eyes drift to the clouds, and then let his mind drift deeper inwards. He tossed the idea back and forth, wanting to be sure he was choosing the right words to express it. "...I'm worried that her cruelty will outlast my will," he finally said. Then he thought of an even simpler way to put it. "I'm worried that I can't hate her enough to beat her."
Luxy closed his eyes, remembering his own past. He nodded. Then smiled. "Why do you think you need to hate her at all?"
"Isn't that obvious!?" Toby sputtered. "She's got this boiling volcano of wretchedness in her gut. And I'm just... sad. How can I hope to go head-to-head with her? Won't it be like opening up a furnace door and jumping inside, naked?"
Luxy chuckled at the image. "Y'wanna know a terrific way to lose a fight? Take what your opponent is best at, and try to beat them at that. Works like a charm!" he grinned.
Toby snorted. "Okay, I'm an idiot. Ha ha."
Luxy rolled his eyes at the poor rodent, then stretched his arm around his shoulders, pulled him close, and noogied him with his chin. "You're not an idiot. Just not as experienced at the fine art of revenge as I am. It's like watching an Olympic runner and wondering why you're not as fast. Prac-fuckin'-tice. Ever notice how there's tons of overused aphorisms about how vengeance leads folks to ruin, or about the abyss staring back into you? It's not because revenge is inherently futile, it's because nearly everyone is SHITTY at it!"
Toby was slightly uncomfortable in Luxy's embrace. The raccoon's bones were poky right through his suit and his smell was... difficult to describe. "So how do I get... un-shitty?"
"Didja read that quote I had engraved above my courtroom?"
He blinked. "I did, but I don't remember it now."
"Short version: People with hearts of gold or hearts of wormwood tend to self-destruct when they try to fix the world. Pure evil and pure good both fail, because they lack essential understanding of the other. It takes a well-balanced mixture of compassion and corruption. You need enough warmth to genuinely empathize, but enough cold to shut it off when the time comes. You have to be able to comfort the innocent AND pummel the guilty. You, Toby, are actually further along the path to balance than I ever would have guessed when I first met you."
It was meant as a compliment, but somehow it made the mouse's guts knot up. "I know I need to be this way to face Scaphis... but it hurts to. I feel awful."
Luxy was quiet for a few moments, then said, "Yes."
Toby looked up to meet Luxy's eyes. "Are you saying you feel this way too?"
A knee-slap. "Me? Haw. Hell no!"
Toby grimaced. "You have a way of being almost-profound for a moment, then popping that moment with a pin."
A gleeful nod. "People who take themselves too seriously become insufferable pricklords. And let me be clearer: I know exactly how you're feeling right now because I used to. You're looking at a Luxy that bears no resemblance to the one who plopped into Phobiopolis a jillion years back. I keep saying that word: practice. I've done the whole justice thing long enough to develop a thick callus of confidence. I can trust that my decisions have brought about more 'better' than 'worse'. I've learned to believe it when people say I'm great. Because I am. Not because I think I am, but because I've got a whole city of people who are happier than just about anywhere else on this rock. Should I not bask in that accomplishment?"
"Doesn't, like, pride goeth before a fall or something?"
"Stupid pride," Luxy corrected with a wagging finger. "Unearned pride. There's no reason not to delight in how awesome you are if you've actually worked that hard to be that goddamned awesome."
Toby's memory flashed to Junella, wielding her confidence as a weapon. "Can't disagree with that, I've seen it in action. So then, I need to..." He drew a blank. "I'm sorry. How does this connect back to me beating Scaphis?"
A shrug. "Probly doesn't. If you get me talking long enough, the subject's always gonna come back to me performing self-flattery-fellatio." He mimed a sucking motion.
"Bleagh!" Toby scooted away from the hug.
Luxy guffawed at his reaction. "Seriously tho'," the raccoon said, "You were worried you couldn't hate Scaphis enough. And I said, 'don't try to be what your enemy's best at'. Find the opposite. Be that instead. The more emotional fighter is the one who usually loses."
Toby arched an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty emotional in the courtroom sometimes."
A dismissive wave of the hand. "That's TV, kiddo. It's controlled. It's an act. Unless I'm strung out on substances... which I'll admit can be not infrequent, I'm always 100% cognizant of how crazy I'm letting myself be. Because I can't just be Luxy Bleeder in front of that audience, y'dig? I have to be L*U*X*Y B*L*E*E*D*E*R!!!"
Toby chuckled. "You sounded like Loud Kevin there."
A titter. "Oh, we do each other's voices all the time! We get up to some hilarious shit. I miss him already, the li'l spud-shaped fuck. Wonder what he's doing right now? It's way less fun introducing myself."
Toby rather liked seeing this small moment of Luxy acknowledging a friendship.
"I'm talking about me again!!" Luxy roared, waving his arms as if swatting flies. He suddenly lunged sideways and ensnared Toby. He shoved his muzzle millimeters away from the mouse's ear. "You wanna know a secret? Like, a BIG one? The one I don't let anybody, anybody, anybody know?"
Toby gulped, tense as a bowstring. "I don't know... Is this something where you'll kill me if I tell?"
A breezy laugh. "Probably, but not any more than usual. No one'd believe you anyway."
Toby squeaked.
"Okay, Junior Luxster, you ready for it!?" The raccoon buried his nosepad in Toby's ear hairs. He cupped his paw around his muzzle. In the tiniest voice this side of audibility, he said, "I don't hate anyone."
He released Toby and sat back, arms spread, like the end of a magic trick.
The mouse was more than a little confused. "That's it?"
A giggling nod. "That's it!"
"Ummm..."
Luxy leaned forward, chin in hands, elbows on knees. The mouse didn't get it yet, but he would.
"Well. You're right that it seems unbelievable. You sure seemed to hate Cleanup Crew a lot. And that rapist guy"
Luxy shook his head. "Moments of anger. They aren't hate. Hate extends past the moment. It lingers. It keeps you aflame long past the point where it's doing you any good. It's unproductive. There's not a damn thing wrong with a flare of rage when it's appropriate, but I switch it off as soon as the problem's dealt with. I never let it be all of me. I am never more emotion than thought." He pointed in the air as if dictating a great wisdom: "Hatred, Toby, is for shitheads."
Toby was rather surprised to hear this, coming from someone to whom murder was pleasure. "Doesn't violence come from hatred?"
"Doesn't have to!" he said merrily. "Why can't it be art? Comedy? Something to keep the mind engaged, to prevent the complacency and slipups of boredom? Most of the time when I'm in that courtroom, I'm having fun. I'm playing a role. Enjoying the game. I don't let it get personal. I see thieves and killers and rapers and bigots and lie-tellers and other miscellaneous scum so ugly you don't even wanna spit on 'em. And I don't hate any of them." An open-handed shrug. "What good would it do? Are they any more or less stuck in The Pipe for me feeling nothing more than bemusedly gobsmacked at their reprehensible garbageyness?"
Toby thought he got it now. "You're detached."
A nod and a pat on the head for the attentive little pupil. "More than that, I know when to turn my faucets off. Or on full-blast. If I were to let myself feel the full empathy deserving of every act of savagery that happens in my city, I'd never sleep. I hardly do anyway, but that's just from being a Busy Bleeder Bee." For just a moment, he let Toby see the tired jitter in his eyes. "I've scraped and carved and molded myself into a furson capable of being mayor/judge/god/king/Bwana Dick of the hugest city in this world. Capable of being that, while not being a bully. It's not for everyone... but it has to be someone."
Toby felt an eerie deja vu. Hadn't he thought something similar about himself just this morning?
Luxy Bleeder reached over and took Toby's hand into his, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze. "You have been thrown in the deep end, kid. But you've taught yourself to swim in record time. You've faced the worst and the best this aborted afterlife has to offer. In days. You're tasked with becoming something like me in a fraction, a microscopic sliver, of the time it took me." Another squeeze of the paw. "It's going to gut you, Toby. You are going to be a walking shipwreck when this is over, if you don't feel that way already."
A nod. "I do."
A 'that's how it is' smile. "...But you'll fucking win."
Toby wanted to believe that. The words were convincing, and he felt awed that Luxy had shown him such kindness and deference. Though... "How?"
Luxy reached up to cup Toby's lower jaw in his hand, holding his gaze in place. "By being her opposite. Toby, amigo mio, I see in your eyes that you despise the thought of becoming a bully as much as I do, and that's commendable. It'll keep you from getting drawn into the endgame she wants. She wants your hate. She wants someone to fight against. She wants to be opposed, so she can have someone to crush, and feel the thrill of, 'I won'."
Toby had a flash: "Janie and Ike."
A small trace of a smile. "That, but dialed up so far the knob breaks off. It's fine to enjoy a rivalry. Competition. But Scaphis wants someone as ugly as she is so she doesn't feel alone. And she's not suicidal enough to seek it in Logdorbhok, unfortunately for us. So she creates enemies. She builds people to hate her. She sets up her game. You can only win, Toby, by setting down to the table, starting play, then refusing to follow her rules. She wants everything on her terms. Give her yours. Piss her off. Hate is for shitheads, remember? Let her hate you. And the more she does, the less you do."
Toby's voice cracked when he tried to respond. He felt a tear tugging at his eye. "How do I not hate someone who took my best friends from me?"
A steadying paw clapped his shoulder. "By keeping in your mind that hate doesn't help. Pity is so much more useful. When you hate someone, you are setting them up in the more powerful position. They made you angry. Except, they didn't. You are choosing to feel that way. So choose differently. Take control of yourself. When she slaps you in the face, you shrug. Or stare. Or flip her off. Or shove a power drill up her nostril. Whatever!" A finger poked the mouse's sternum, right where Luxy had kicked it. "The point is, no one makes your decisions but you."
Toby winced at the poke, but he was starting to feel hopeful. Even a bit energized.
"For all her strength," Luxy said, tossing a contemptuous glance towards Anasarca, "she has no power over your mind. She'll try to trick you into giving up control. She'll try to manipulate you. But if you can resist, and keep your power for yourself, then she's dead."
Toby was breathing a little faster. 'Like in Dysphoria...'
Luxy noticed the slow change in the kid and kept going. "Mindset's a neglected weapon in battle. Winners tend to keep winning and losers tend to keep losing. Because they've cast themselves in those roles and subconsciously act them out. You don't go in thinking, 'I'm going to win.' You go in knowing, 'This poor sonovabitch. I've already won and they still think they have a chance'."
The mouse was transfixed by the words, but managed a nod. "If... if everything I planned works out, then that'll be true. I'll have won just by standing in front of her."
"Absolutely," Luxy encouraged. "And I can 99% guarantee she will be stupid enough to let you get that close. How can she resist the feeling of, 'Behold this pathetic little booger! The foolish hero come to save his doomed buddies. I can squeeze him like a pimple, just like that!'
Toby chuckled at the snippy voice Luxy had put on.
The mouse took a deep breath. He could feel his heart racing from the pep talk. He wanted to hold on to that feeling, but not let it overpower him. "So, if I can stay calm, then I win."
A nod. "You'll walk in there knowing the ending already. Then all you have to do is pull it towards you. Simple." His whiskers twitched as he remembered something. "Oh! This might help your confidence..." He began rustling in his pockets.
Toby looked over to see, then craned his neck down as Luxy reached over to pin something on his vest. It looked like a brass elevator button. "It's a thingy."
"A distress flare," the coon clarified. "Squeeze it; toss it. The explosion'll made a particular light that I'll recognize. I will keep out of the way and let you kick her ass however you choose, but if you run into heavy problems, you've got a lifeline. Not sure how, but I'll find a way to scoot my tail up the mountain to ya."
Toby traced the button with a fingertip. "I'm sure you'd find a way. Thank you."
"Wear it for a few days," Luxy counseled. "Just so it starts feeling like a part of your outfit and you won't lose it when you get killed. Of course," a nonchalant shrug, "you'll never use it."
That confused Toby for a moment, but then he smiled. "Because I won't need to."
Luxy's reply was his grin.
Toby grinned too.
Luxy suddenly slapped the mouse on the back almost hard enough to knock him over. "So! Feeling any better, you mopey, pink-eyed dishrag?"
Toby couldn't help a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so. You fine, upstanding citizen."
That got a giggle out of him. "The opposite of what I was expecting! See? You're good at this already!"
"Yeah." Toby let his muscles unclench. He dangled his arms at his sides, staring for a moment at the dirt. Just enjoying the pleasant, warm halo surrounding him from Luxy's encouragement. Like the feeling in his muscles after a good run. "I do feel better. Not to say I'm completely de-worried yet though," he added with a chuckle.
"A little's not bad. Keeps you on your toes. Adaptive."
Toby stood up, as if he was about to go running off towards the horizon. Then he stopped, hesitated, and sat back down again. "I guess the part I'm still worried about is trying to keep ahead of her." He leaned back completely, facing the sky, letting his arms droop over the side of the plastic tank. "You've told me a lot, and I've picked up clues here and there, but still... it's looking like I gotta psychoanalyze her to win, and I honestly don't know anything about her."
Luxy's body language conveyed that this was less of an issue than Toby was making it out to be. "A furson's actions in an unguarded moment will tell you more than their whole biography would."
Toby acknowledged the wisdom of that with a nod. "Still, I'd like to have more ammo. Some specifics. Some old secrets, or-" He suddenly froze.
Before he could let his brain tell him how stupid an idea it was, that they were undoubtedly shredded to smithereens, Toby darted his left paw to the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out a small stack of notebook sheets.
Luxy tilted his head: 'might I inquire?'
"Doll's notes," Toby said, as pleasantly stunned as the first time he'd produced an ace of spades. "I remembered just now. In the market, when I was lost in the desert, Doll and Junella got to talking. She told about her history. Who she'd been before her curse. She wrote it all down, and Junella gave me the notes to read later!" Toby shook the pages, his arm trembling in excitement. "Here they are! And whether they got torn up when Scaphis threw me off the mountain, or when L'roon ate me, or anything else, it doesn't matter because I remembered them and so here they are!"
Luxy licked his teeth. He eyed the scraps of paper in Toby's fist with a bit of unease. He wondered if he should say anything.
Toby sat up straight, delighted that he'd accomplished yet another bit of brilliant stupidity. "Of course they were long gone. But now they're not. And I've got her secrets right here! I can-"
His excitement died in a heartbeat.
Luxy leaned a little closer, still keeping quiet. But he smiled proudly when the kid folded the notebook sheets over and tore them in half.
The pieces fluttered to the ground like dandelion seeds.
There was a knowing lilt to Luxy's tone as he asked, "Why'd you do that, chum?"
Toby stared down at the scraps. Not allowing himself to feel stupid, but wanting to. "Because... why would she tell Junella the truth?"
A soft pat on the back.
Toby acknowledged it with a quick, grateful glance. "It'd be lies. All of it. Probably some sob story engineered for maximum sympathy. She was probably tickled pink to get Junella, who hated her guts, to finally let her in. She would've come up with some BS right on the spot to make anyone who read it go, 'Awww, you poor thing!'"
'And this kid was worried he wouldn't be any good at psychoanalysis,' Luxy thought with a satisfied smirk. As bait, he offered, "You know, she and I got pretty tight together. I could fill you in on some stories. Are ya kidding? Me, having the chance to run my mouth gossiping?"
Toby didn't crack a smile at that. He stared straight ahead with his brow furrowed, thinking hard. "Actually... no. I'm sorry to be so back-and-forth on this, but no. I just realized... I don't need it."
'Yessss!' Luxy thought to himself. 'Keep going!' he silently cheered.
"I was just... stalling, I guess. Like, I remember going grocery shopping. Mom and I would both stand around near the checkouts like big dummies, thinking for sure we'd forgotten that One Last Thing. But I haven't this time. I'm pretty sure of that. I don't need one more thing for her. I've got my plan. I've got George. And I think I'm getting my motivation back. Maybe there's some private secret I could deploy to make her blow her top. But how would I know it? And how would I know she wouldn't just laugh it off? It's unreliable. And..."
Toby hesitated. Knowing what he was about to say was a little coldhearted. But maybe that was okay.
"Maybe I don't want to know anything more about her. Who she was before, I mean. I'm sure it really would be a tragic story, because how else could someone end up so mean? But I don't want to know. Because it'd make her more of a furson to me. I'd feel sympathy. And I don't want to. I want to think about how she tore my best friends' faces off."
Luxy's claws were digging into the sides of the tank with the effort it took to keep his goddamn mouth shut. Toby was on a roll.
The mouse narrowed his coral eyes. His gut felt like a lava rock was splashing around inside. It hurt, but it also made him eager to get off his tail and start doing something. "I remember when Gilla-Gilla was teaching me how to kill constructs, I ran into a bonecuddy. And he reminded me of George. For just a second I felt like, 'I can't hurt this thing. It reminds me of my friend.' And then it killed the hell out of me. Stomped my guts out. Because I hesitated. I don't want to hesitate when I'm facing Scaphis."
Luxy nodded ferociously.
Toby didn't even notice. "You're right, Mr. Bleeder. I don't have to hate her. But I don't have to care about her either. Not a bit. She hurt my friends. She hurt me. She's hurt a lot of good people. And it doesn't make me a bad guy for not caring how much I hurt her back. I won't hate her. I don't think I can pity her. But is disgust okay? Like, if I'm looking at some nasty parasite on the sidewalk that does nothing but suck blood and spread disease, and I wanna just stamp it out like a cigarette butt? Is that okay?"
Luxy clapped a paw across his muzzle to keep from cackling in delight. With his free hand he jostled Toby's shoulder joyously. "Holy shit, kid. I think you just graduated!"
Toby took in a deep breath through his nose. He let it out through his mouth. He stood up. His face was calm. Cold, but calm. Quietly he decided, "I think I should go now."
The raccoon hopped to his feet. "Not a bad idea."
Toby looked towards Red. Way up high, he could still see little people skittering to and fro across the construct's back. Sadness touched his expression for a moment. Regret. "I barely got to meet them. I feel bad about just taking off like this. Part of me wants to stay a few more days. Help you set up camp. Eat some more of Tía Lopez' soup."
"It is friggin' excellent," Luxy conceded.
Toby shut his eyes. This part hurt. "But your talk helped, Luxy. I think I need to go now. Right now. So I can hold onto how this feels."
A brown paw patted his shoulder. "Smart."
Toby turned suddenly and hugged him, hard. Squeezing without holding back. "Thank you."
Luxy stiffened like he'd been electroshocked. Not just because the bony little shrimp's grip was deceptively strong, but because he simply wasn't used to this. "Heh. Welcome. Y'know, I don't get many of these. I'm not sure what to do with it."
Toby had his head resting against the mayor's burgundy shirt. "You can just stand there and do nothing if you want."
"Allright." His whole body was stiff as a barber pole. "Kisses, stabbing, fucking, sure. Lots more familiar with those."
Toby nodded, his cheek sliding against the fabric. "I just need this. For a moment. Something that feels good before I gotta go all Terminator robot. I'll have George, but he doesn't have any skin. So I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but it kinda feels like, once I let go, I'll be a different furson. And I'll be letting go of more of me than you."
Luxy stood quietly for several moments, letting the poor battered little rodent have some peace. "That was well-said."
"I used to read a lot of books."
They stayed like that for nearly a minute. Like moss growing on a tree. Luxy started to feel sweaty. His tail twitched like a cat's. "Hey, you maybe want me to kill you a little bit? Just some friendly knifeplay?"
Toby couldn't hold back a laugh. "I'd rather not." He let go then, and stepped back a bit to look at Luxy again. He didn't seem like this imposing, all-powerful figure now. He just seemed like a friendly, interesting, smart, busy guy. Toby liked how that felt. He held out his paw for a final shake.
Luxy accepted, and rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. "Sorry if I spoiled the ambiance. It's hard for me to express affection without a li'l violence mixed in. Got some wires crossed in my attic."
"It's fine," Toby said. "I've just had enough of that for one day already."
Luxy put two and two together. "OHHH, so THAT'S it! You'll let HER rip your heart out for snacktime, but not ME? I'm not GOOD enough for you!? What a snobby little pissant you are!"
Toby laughed so hard he saw stars for a moment. "Stop! You're wearing me out, Luxy!"
"Eh. I'm like dessert. So damn sweet, but easy to get sick of quick."
Toby attempted to squeeze the last of his giggles out. He felt like he'd really needed the catharsis.
"Ready now?" Luxy asked.
Toby hesitated a moment more. Like those last few minutes snoozing before getting up and facing a test at school. "I guess so." He turned towards Red, cupped his muzzle, and called George's name as loud as he could.
Luxy swirled a finger in his ear, wincing.
"Tell them I'm sorry," Toby asked. "Tell them goodbye, and that I know I'm kind of a jerk for running off so soon. Especially Red. The big sweetheart did just what I asked. Tell him I wish I could give him a last hug." He looked back and could see the gargantuan construct was looking his way, as a black speck departed from his shoulder and flew closer.
"I'll tell them," Luxy promised.
Toby watched George's wings come into focus.
"One more thing," Luxy said.
"Better make it quick. My taxi's about to land."
A chuckle. "I'll make it quick." He skootched in closer and knelt down to Toby's ear. "You've got the drift that hate's no good. But ya wanna good tip on how to flush it out of your system? Burn your tanks dry. Get it all out before the moment. Sometimes in my office before trials, if it's a bad one, I'll look at the evidence and let myself go. I'll throw shit around the room. Scream. Punch my lovely plastic assistants til my knuckles are dust."
Toby winced.
George had made a nimble landing a few feet away, but kept to himself till Sire Toby and Sir Bleeder had concluded their business.
"I'll hate the P.O.S. until I've run out of hatred, til the whole idea seems ludicrous. Like saying a word over and over til it doesn't mean anything anymore." He squeezed Toby's shoulder. "You've got a few miles between here and the mountain. Ample time. Go squeak your head off. Be a complete bastard to some poor, innocent cactusyotes or something."
Toby nodded. "Seems a bit silly, but it might not be a bad idea."
George took a step forward and bowed acknowledgment. "Sir Bleeder."
"Well met, noble steed." Luxy extended his paw and shook George's hoof.
"I have been summoned?" he asked Sire Toby. "Am I needed perhaps for clearing away more of these verminous vines? I am certain I would be a more efficient worker than..." he cast a black glance at the marten sniper, spraying as far away from them as possible. "...that."
Toby chuckled at the undisguised contempt. "Actually, George, I'm sorry if you were having fun with Red back there, but, well... it's time to go."
A flick of his spectral ears. "So soon? I had been under the assumption we would stay and help our newly-arrived allies make camp."
"We're a pack of ageless demigods," Luxy interjected. "I think we can deal with a few tents."
"If that is your choice," George acknowledged. Then he looked a little flustered. "Although, in truth... I am somewhat grateful you pulled me away, Sire Toby."
The mouse looked concerned. "Why? Were they, like, giving you dirty looks for being a construct?"
"Quite the opposite! I was treated as a fascinating novelty and fawned over. Sirs Woofingbutter and Rippingbean were especially overflowing with goodwill. And it is always a treat to chat with Red! However, when I inquired into the lights visible beneath the surface of Madam Jing, and if perchance she might be of similar kin to myself..."
Toby grimaced.
Luxy imagined the look on her face and giggled shamelessly.
George shuffled from hoof to hoof. "I am honestly surprised you did not hear her reaction to my question, even from a distance this far. You have rescued me from an awkward position, Sire Toby."
The mouse patted the stallion's leg consolingly. "I'm sure you asked very politely anyway."
"I tried to!"
Toby was just about to climb up into the saddle.
"Actually!" Luxy shouted.
The mouse turned back. "One more thing?"
"It'll only take a sec." Luxy turned around and whistled, ear-splittingly, in the direction of Vienna Tusk. When she looked up, he made a 'getcher ass over here' gesture.
Toby made an unpleasant face. "Why would you-"
"A coda," the raccoon said simply.
The weed-killer wand dangled and dragged on the ground behind her. Deep hatred throbbed in her tight-shut face. She didn't say a damn word as she approached the tyrant judge, and the thief, and his fucking pet horsie.
Luxy tucked his arms behind his back. He didn't say anything either. He just looked at Vienna with a placid, neutral expression, and let her ask first.
She glared at him for a moment, then realized he was playing some kinda dumbass cat-and-mouse game. "...What!?" she spat.
He said nothing. Made her come a little closer.
With a begrudging snarl, she did.
Toby reflexively grabbed one of George's ribs. Whether to hold back his friend or steady himself, he wasn't sure.
When Vienna was just close enough, Luxy swung round a kick to the back of her shin. He didn't mean to knock her down in the dirt, but it accomplished what he was hoping for anyway.
Her claws sank deep in the ground, tendons taut in the backs of her hands. She hefted herself up, breath ragged from anger and humiliation. Still though, she kept her mouth shut. Lest he open his and say that word again. The one that made all the bugs in the world start eating her alive from the inside out.
Still keeping proper decorum, Luxy took a step closer and lightly swatted the back of her head, towards Toby's direction. He spoke in a pleasant tone but without any ambiguity that he was giving an order: "Apologize."
Toby saw her eyes rise to meet his. Saw her jaw set in a feral rictus. Saw how tense her muscles were, bulging beneath her skin. She was absolutely livid. Smoldering with anger. But she feared Luxy. That was even more obvious. He'd tamed her.
Vienna shut her eyes for a moment to build up the will to go through with it. Unable to make eye contact with the ratthief, she kept her gaze down in the dirt. "I'm sorry," she rasped out. "Please forgive me."
Toby's face showed sympathy. The marten was on her hands and knees in the dirt. Literally groveling before him. Asking for forgiveness. After losing everything else, her dignity was taken too. This was probably the most humiliating moment of her life. Toby took a step forward, his hand reaching out to...
He stopped.
His hand dropped to his side, and his expression changed. The concern left his face, cycled through pity, and then became as neutral as Luxy's.
"No," he said.
Her head jerked up. She hadn't heard that right. When you said you were sorry, the other person was supposed to say 'that's fine' and then it was fucking over with! "Why!?"
Toby took another step forward, until his shadow covered her face. His eyes were perfectly clear.
"Because you wouldn't have said anything if he hadn't forced you."
He saw her mouth move, about to lash out with angry protest. But he didn't care to hear it. He turned away from her without another glance and walked back to George.
Luxy looked at the mouse with a conflicted, multilayered expression. Not sure if he'd said the right things. Not sure if he'd been using this kid, turning him into a walking hand grenade against his old enemy. But he didn't think so. He thought Toby had made this choice himself.
The mayor-king of Ectopia Cordis cast a quick glance at the ascended construct the mouse was approaching. He gave him a nod towards Toby: 'You'll take care of him.'
George saw, and nodded back: 'Without question.'
Vienna Tusk knelt with her head down. Wordless. Chest rattling with seething, repressed bile.
Toby had a firm grip on George's vertebrae, pulling himself up to the bony spine, feeling the familiar fat emerge beneath him into a saddle shape. His face was still calm. He looked forward, taking his time scanning the sky until he could make out the peak of Anasarca. When George placed leathery reins into his hands, he gave them a soft tug in the right direction. George pointed himself, and Toby gave him a pat.
The mouse and construct took their first steps away from Rhinolith.
Toby looked back over his shoulder at Vienna. "I don't know if you'll ever see me again. But you'll get your city back. I promise you that."
Not caring about her response, if any, he cracked the reins like he'd seen in cowboy shows and George took off like a shooting star. There was just enough time for Toby to give one last nod of appreciation to Luxy.
Hands in his pockets, the raccoon watched the kid ride off. George was fast enough that soon they were no more than a black and white speck against the green. Luxy turned his head back to Rhinolith. A city entombed in spiteful threads. A long, long road of beige plastic snaked from the city in both directions: towards new conquests, and towards the mountain where its consciousness sat in wait. Not a hard trail to follow.
Luxy watched George get smaller and smaller as he and Toby headed towards his former arch-nemesis. He felt like he had fired a pistol, and was watching the lone bullet fly.
'They're going to shatter her. And this world is going to change.'
He couldn't wait.
He turned back around to see a certain marten slinking away. He strolled over to tailgate. "Y'see, that's the fundamental difference between us."
She swiveled around, no clue what the bastard was talking about now.
"At heart, Toby's a real nice kid. And I'm not." His boot swung back, then kicked her butt. Not too hard.
Vienna yelped.
"Got about eight hundred more acres of vines to wipe out before nightfall," he observed. "We don't even need that much space. I'm just gonna make you do it because I'm a sadistic monster. Tee hee!"
She looked back over her shoulder with a glower that could split steel.
"Awww, cheer up! Another few days and you'll have your family back." He mimed sticking a finger down his throat. "Lucky them!"
-***-