Updated: 1/24/13

Gardenia: The Furry Roleplaying Game - "Brotherhood of Cordero"
(Nightshade), Page 2

    Nightshade awoke at the sound of someone making odd musical noises.
    He sat up and looked around. Everyone else was asleep except for him and...someone else. He squinted in the dark and saw the sheep kneeling at Starflower's side, softly crooning to him in a foreign language as he brushed his fuzzy head.
    Nightshade saw the owl chick's chest rising and falling.
    The sheep smiled, then kissed the owl's head. He looked up and smiled at the hybrid. "Hello, Nightshade. It's good that you're awake." He gestured at a path leading into the darkness. "Come. We have much to discuss."
    Nightshade furrowed his brow. He'd given that area a sonic scan before. He thought he'd detected a mine entrance that way, but wasn't sure.
    "I have information about Darren Black. And other things about the world you came from." He walked a few steps in that direction, holding out his hand.
    "You bet your fluffy butt we have 'much to discuss'," Nightsade said, standing abruptly and extending his arm. "First of which, why am I growing scales? Secondly, your gardening power has done all of diddly $#!^ for me so far. And third, how the hell do you know Darren? And don't try to pass it off as being 'all knowing', 'cause I've talked to idiots like that before, and simple logic says that's impossible."
    "One question at a time," Cordero said in a near whisper, walking a few steps further.
    Nightshade could still hear him, but decided to follow to get a better listen to make sure he could understand well. He hurriedly marched after the sheep.
    They crossed a stretch of rocky, dusty ground. The moon seemed a bit brighter now. He could see the sheep and the general shape of the rocks, the rotting tool boxes and useless work belts.
    "You and your friends have been infected with a disease," the sheep said as he walked. "Its name is unimportant. Someone will surely invent one later." He stopped, turning to face the winged figure. "What matters is that you're infected, and you don't have much longer to live."
    Nightshade glared at him, clenching his fists. He opened his mouth.
    "I am not the cause of this plague, but I intend to bring an end to it." Cordero raised his arms. "My blood stream contains the necessary antibodies. I will soon go to the source and do everything within my power to heal my people." He marched on, speaking in low tones, almost muttering. "As for the power I've given you...sometimes great strength can only be revealed through weakness."
    "If that's even remotely true - which I sincerely doubt - then maybe you should've given this power to Templeton," Nightshade retorted. "If he's as weak-hearted as he acts, then I'm sure he'd be able to come up with a use for it."
    Cordero shrugged. "I choose who I choose. Besides, he has been given a greater gift."
    Before Nightshade could interject, they came to the mine entrance. Nightshade's eyes widened. A few feet past the wooden support lay a carpeted staircase with lights that led down to a pair of burgandy doors with rounded handles and circular windows. A big plastic garbage can stood next to one side of the door.
    "Of course," Cordero said as he padded down the staircase. "The effectiveness of a power depends largely on its application. If you'd excuse the anachronism, a rifle is no good if you point the stock at the enemy."
    "Pray forgive me, King Cryptic," the hybrid said sarcastically. "But I don't believe that, either. Once you run out bullets, your rifle stock is plenty good; it's called a club."
    Cordero chuckled. "That is very true. But you did not use it as a club. However, what you did was an excellent attempt. If you had not made that structure, you and all your friends would have died." He folded his paws behind his back. "I will send someone to teach you how to use your gift. Regretfully, I must be elsewhere soon." He opened the door and stepped in the threshold, gesturing into the darkened room beyond. "After you."
    Nightshade just stood there, eyeing him with suspicion. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"
    "You don't," Cordero shrugged. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll go in first." He walked inside and the door shut.
    Nightshade pulled it open, following him.
    Inside he saw a dimly lit narrow hallway with crazily patterned carpeting. A faint light could be seen at the end, accompanied with muffled strains of music.
    He walked that way, scanning his surroundings for danger.
    He found himself in a movie theater. He stared at his surroundings in shock, the one hundred or so unoccupied padded seats, the glowing projectionist's booth, the fake curtains covering the walls and framing the stage. The giant screen flashed messages about silencing cel phones and buying popcorn and soda in the lobby.
    The sheep was seated in the front row. He gestured to a chair. "Have a seat. The show's about to start."
    Nightshade hesitated and sat down.
    The screen went black.
    The next thing he saw was a dead black jaguar female, bleeding from bullet wounds on a sidewalk. A white unicorn creature with a flaming mane lay on the ground beside it, letting out its last breaths. The flames on its head and neck shrunk like someone had turned the pilot light down, then puffed out in fine wisps of smoke.
    The camera cut to a view inside the posh back seat of a limousine, where a fuzzy gray hand tuned a dial on a police scanner.
    A muffled female voice came through the speaker. "10-200, 3835 West Glenduck and Ratdor. Shots have been fired. 10-45 and 10-38. 3835 West Glenduck. Repeat, 10-45 and 10-38. 3835 West Glenduck. 10-45 and 10-38."
    "Lars," said a low, gravelly voice. "Take me up by Chung's."
    The scene changed to a view of a dark brick alleyway, where a tiny bat winged feline aimlessly stumbled. The toddler alternated between crawling and waddling around the discarded beer cans, the pools of slime, the smelly trash.
    It sat down and cried loudly.
    When no one came, it crawled past a beat up metal door marked with the spray painted words `deliveries only.'
    It let out a piercing scream. It screamed and screamed for several minutes.
    A gray-black figure marched up to the tot, stooping down to its level. "Hey there, little guy!" said the rough sounding voice. "How'd you get down here?"
    The toddler stared up at the stripy badger face, and cried.
    "Hey there..." The figure reached toward the little creature's face. "It's okay. Uncle Mel's here."
    The toddler let in several shallow breaths, then cried again.
    `Mel' touched the cub's chin with a finger. "C'mon, boy! Cheer up!"
    The cub opened its mouth, sinking its teeth in his hand.
    "Ow!" He tried to shake the cub loose, but it refused to let go, its fangs clamped tightly in the meat above his fingers.
    "Let go!" Mel roared. When the cub would not, he gave it a heavy slap with the back of his hand.
    The cub opened its mouth and the badger snatched his hand free.
    "You're a feisty little pup, aren't you?" Mel muttered, rummaging in the pocket of his suit. His other hand dangled limp. He slipped on a pair of black leather gloves. He knelt down, picking up the small creature. The moment he had it in his arms, the cub went ballistic, clawing and squirming and biting as if rabid. He held it away from him, wincing as it bit into his gloves again and again. "Woah!" he chuckled. "Looks like we got ourselves a fighter! This is gonna be interesting!"
    He carried the wild cub clawing and screaming to the black limousine alongside the sidewalk. The rear passenger door opened and the badger brought his discovery into the rear compartment.
    The door closed.
    Nightshade stood up, glaring at the sheep. "What is this!"
    "Your past."
    "You... brought me down here..." Nightshade hissed, "To look at home movies?"
    "Not exactly." He gestured to the screen, which was now showing a repeat of the previous sequence. "Does any of this look familiar to you? See anyone you recognize?"
    "Well, I don't see how that's any of your business," Nightshade said hotly. "But since you asked so nicely, yeah. I know that badger. He's the cold-blooded murderer who turned me into an animal." Bringing a hand up in front of his chest, he extended his claws. "Want a demo? Or are you going to get to the point?"
    "Did you recognize the jaguar?"
    Nightshade blinked.
    "It was a long time ago, wasn't it." The sheep raised a remote control, pointing it at the screen. The picture changed to that same female creature in a nightgown, leaning over a crib, smiling as she softly crooned to the winged infant. "Where red light breaks on mountain high, and arrows shower down, the secret of your existence lay concealed within the ground. They seek to train your mind to kill, and train your paws for war, but, my son, you must resist, you're born for so much more. Seek the river from the Misty Seas to help you on your way, and sail between the Golani, through Musugona Bay."
    Nightshade's mouth fell open. The song was often on the tip of his tongue, the words lost to conscious memory, the tune nagging at him like a persistent itch. And there it was on the screen.
    A humanoid bat creature in a polo shirt walked up to her, putting his arm around her shoulder. They smiled at each other, then gazed lovingly at the cubling.
    The sheep pushed a button on the remote and the scene froze. "There." He got up, pointing at the bat. "That is Darren."
    Nightshade snatched the remote away, pushing what he presumed to be the rewind button.
    The screen went black. He heard a booming voice say something incomprehensible, then a glowing red ball appeared. The voice spoke again and it exploded.
    The next minute, the screen filled with stars.
    Confused, he furrowed his brow, pushing another button.
    The screen now showed a view of a motorboat on a lake.
    The badger sat on a cushioned back seat, holding a fishing rod, staring out at the water. The cub sat across from him, looking calmer and a few years older than it was in the previous segment. It cranked the handle of the rod it held, drawing the line in.
    "Easy. Not too fast. You'll scare them away."
    The cub set the rod in a holding socket. "How did you find me?"
    The badger's eyes widened. "What?"
    "How did you find me?"
    "I found you in bed. Then I said we were going fishing."
    "No, Mel! Where'd I come from? Where'd you find me before you picked me up? Where'd you take me from?"
    The badger furrowed his brow, eyeing the cub with concern. "Who says I took you from anywhere? Can't I just be your father?"
    "Look, Mel. I know. We don't exactly have a family resemblance."
    "You've studied a little bit about genetics, right Tyrone?"
    The cub nodded.
    "Well, it skips a generation."
    Tyrone screwed up his face. He sat there thinking about it for a long time.
    The two stared at the water.
    "You made that up! I don't look like anyone in your whole family!"
    The badger sighed. "All right. Fine. You win. I ordered a mix from the store."
    Tyrone laughed despite himself. He shook his head. "C'mon! I'm serious!"
    "Hi Serious, I'm Melasco!"
    The cub sighed, looking away. His shoulders lowered.
    After a long silence, Melasco said, "I should've known there'd be no fooling you, cub." He took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm not your blood father. But I am your godfather. I was asked to take you under my wing if anything happened to your blood parents."
    "What did happen to them? And please don't try to protect me; I want to know everything."
    "Then I'll be blunt," the badger replied. "Someone gunned down your mother when you were just a cubling. I don't know where your father is now."
    "Did you know my parents?"
    "Not very well, I'm afraid. By now I've long forgotten their names. I'm sorry."
    "Who killed my mom?"
    "I don't know. But I promise you I'm going to find out. In the meantime, you just keep getting stronger. When I do get a name for you, it'll be up to you to avenge her."
    "You had a chance," said Cordero. "But you didn't take it. I respect that."
    "Are you going to tell me what you know, or should I save you the trouble of meaninglessly beating around the bush, take my share of the cure in your blood, and be on my way?"
    "Darren Black was working with genetics." The sheep silently stared at a picture of a young Nightshade flinching as he pulled the trigger on a 45 Magnum, trying to hit a paper target on a range. "He wanted very badly to have a cub of his own." He didn't say anything more.
    The screen displayed a picture of a black room with wall panels painted with palm trees, art deco furniture and a large oak desk. The badger stood in front of a cushy leather chair, opening the bottom right desk drawer.
    He took out a brown shipping container, handing it to the dark winged shape seated in the chair across from him. "High time you had a taste of the real world, cub."
    The hybrid glanced at the shipping label, then tore it open. Inside he found a pair of gauntlets with long curving blades, a black flight suit, and a photo of a persian with a wart on the side of his muzzle. The name `Catalioni' had been scrawled on the top of the photo.
    Tyrone held up the photo. "This the one who killed my mom?"
    "I've had the best investigators I could find working the case, and all of them said this guy gave the order."
    "Why'd he do it?"
    "You can ask him that when we get there."
    "Works for me," Tyrone smirked. "What's the plan?"
    "Even now, I'm working on getting us in."
    He let out a frustrated sigh, absently pushing a number button.
    The screen displayed a platypus and an otter walking around in what appeared to be the Roost, but with pink skies and something like a blotchy marble in the sky.
    He shook his head, glaring at the sheep. "Tell me what that song means. The song my mother was singing."
    "The meaning of her song is a secret that will unfold over time. She sings of things that have not yet come to pass. The most important thing to be taken from it at present is that they loved you and did not want you to grow up to be a killer." The sheep snapped his fingers and the jaguar female was singing her song over the crib again.
    "Well it's a little late for that, isn't it?" Nightshade asked. "I've already killed, several dozen times, and eaten from every kill I've made. Nothing you can say or do will change that."
    "Late?" said the sheep. "If it that were truly too late, I would not be showing you all this. If it were too late, I would not have granted you power, and I certainly would not have brought you into this movie." He reached into his sleeve, pulling out a clear vial filled with a green liquid. "Here. Your father wants you to have this."
    Nightshade glanced at the vial for a brief second before returning his gaze to the sheep's face. "What is this to me? And more to the point, how do I know I can trust you?"
    "I'm not asking you to drink it." Cordero held it out. "This vial holds a secret to your past. And your future." When Nightshade didn't take it, he placed it on the stage. "It's yours. Take it or leave it here. It is ultimately your choice."
    The sheep walked around him, across the row of seats, then casually strolled up the middle aisle.
    Nightshade growled impatiently. "Tell me something, Fluff-butt. Are you incapable of giving clear answers, or do you just get off on watching people jump through hoops?"
    The sheep stopped and turned around to look at him. "If there are any hoops, I never forced you to jump them. The path was always open for you to walk away, or choose differently." His floppy ear twitched. "I perceive that you are a strong willed individual, relying on no one. You prefer to figure out things for yourself. A determined, resourceful, and clever individual as yourself should have no trouble in finding a lab with which to examine the vial with. The materials your father left should be more than sufficient in helping you understand his research and the importance of the vial...and yourself."
    "Take a look at this," Nightshade growled, lifting a hand in front of his face. "Right now, at this moment, I'm so stressed that I can't even sheathe my claws. They won't retract. And you know why? Because I've just realized...It's hopeless asking you anything. In all the time we've been here, I've gotten maybe three words out of you that I can understand. Now, don't get me wrong. I've seen this story before, and I imagine I'd get it eventually. Just one trouble...I do not, and I may never, have that kind of time."
    The sheep just nodded, seeming to be unphased by the comment.
    Nightshade took a breath before continuing. "You have to understand something. For the past three years of my life, I've been one step away from death. I've fought, hunted, and even bargained for my survival, with no margin for error. And through it all, even though it was pointless and sometimes even harmful to do so...Somehow, I've held on to my honor. I've never hit anyone who didn't deserve it, I never killed anything that I wasn't willing to eat, I never broke a promise, and I never left a debt unpaid. Because I knew that I'd never be able to live with myself otherwise."
    The sheep's eyes reflected a note of sadness. He still said nothing.
    His eyes took on a feral gleam. "So when I tell you that I'm seriously thinking about killing you here and now, and honor be fragged... I want you to understand exactly what that means."
    Cordero's expression changed to that of amusement, like a parent might look at a toddler attempting calculus.
    He lowered his hand. "Still, I'm not without my self-control, and whatever semblance of a mind that I have works. So I'm going to ask you one more question, straight up. And just so we're clear, I have no patience for anything but a straight answer. I don't know where you've gotten all this stuff on me from, but from what I've been able to gather, you're offering me just about everything that I've ever wanted for myself, and nothing that big comes without a price of some kind."
    Cordero frowned and shook his head.
    "So, that being said... what is it that you hope to gain by helping me? Are you going to need a dedicated fighter at your back, or what?"
    "I do not need anything from you. If I needed something, I would have asked directly. I only seek to help you because I care for all Quaro's creations, no matter who they are or where they come from. You are not the only recipient of my gifts. I ask for nothing in return. I only seek to please Quaro with my giving."
    Nightshade's fingers relaxed, and his claws slowly retreated. "Fine, then. If you've got it in your head to give, tell me this: Why am I turning into a Bulbasaur?"
    Cordero just chuckled and patted the hybrid on the head. "Sorry, I must now go to heal my people, and bring an end to this plague. Someday you will find the answer."
    He turned and walked away.
    Everything got hazy.
    Nightshade awoke on his back, with his wings in the dirt. The sun was out above the campsite, and the watch fire was now only a faint wisp of smoke. He saw the shape of the frog crouching over it, apparently lost in silent contemplation.
    The hybrid rolled over and heard something clinking on the ground. He picked it up, staring at it. The vial had been made of some durable plastic material, with a bar code and a serial number etched along the side. 48863959596918. The green liquid sloshed around some sort of rectangular rod, which he could just barely see.
    As he pocketed the tube, he noticed something else unusual. The wood and iron treasure chest had somehow been placed on the ground only a few yards away from him.
    He heard pattering, then two avian shapes descended, bearing firewood, mushrooms, and small dead creatures. He sat up, staring in disbelief as a moving, breathing chick owl set down his items and gutted the creature it had procured.
    Miracles, Nightshade thought to himself, shaking his head. Okay. Not just a dream, then. Fine. I'll go with it. But if you're listening, Fluffy, you've already told me I don't owe you anything, so don't expect any gushing gratitude.
    "He's awake."
    "I wonder if he's had dreams as I had," said Starflower.
    Dreamcloud cleared his throat several times.
    "What?"
    "Nothing. There is liquid in my throat."
    The gorilla frowned at the food. Grunt, grunt.
    "Well I'm sorry it's not to your liking."
    Nightshade noticed a quantity of feathers lying about on the ground. He stared at them, briefly wondering what they were doing there.
    "Hey look! A skull!" a voice cried.
    The hybrid craned his neck to see Melissa marching toward the campsite, a round gray object held aloft in her paw.
    "I told you there wasn't any gold!"
    "You didn't actually check!" She stomped up to the rat. "Besides, I was looking for diamonds."
    "Well, did you find any?"
    "Um...maybe?" She reached in her pouch, taking out a crystal the size of a soda can.
    "Let me see that."
    "I don't think so. If this is worth money, you're not touching it."
    "I don't think it's worth money. At least, not much." The rat broke into a coughing fit.
    "Yeah. And you'll swipe it and get rich at my expense!"
    "Fine. Scratch it with your sword."
    "And ruin a perfectly good diamond?"
    "It shouldn't be that easy to scratch a diamond."
    Bongo suddenly started making wheezing noises. Templeton shot him a worried glance.
    "We must not have the same definition of what a diamond is because they can get scratched."
    "Don't come crying to me if it turns out to be quartz!"
    "What? Are you a geologist or something?"
    "No, but I do know it's generally difficult to find a diamond unless it's industrial."
    "Hello! We're in Magic Land! Anything could happen!"
    "I still don't think so. That doesn't look very diamond-like."
    Melissa sighed, holding it out to him. "If you swipe it, I'm clobbering you."
    With a shrug, the rat took it. He picked up a rock, then struck it with the crystal. The crystal broke in half, scattering powder everywhere.
    "Hey! You broke it!" She stared at the mess, furrowing her brow.
    The rat put a chunk up to his mouth and licked it.
    "Are you sure that's safe?"
    "It's salt."
    "Well," Melissa sighed. "I guess we've got something to sprinkle on our food."
    "Are you sure? I'd hate to steal something so valuable from you."
    "Shut up."
    "Have a good nap?"
    Nightshade stared at the snowy owl for a minute, then said, "No." He sat up.
    Melissa was snorting and wiping her nose. He tried to ignore it.
    The frog piled wood on the fire, glaring angrily at the flames. "This is a fool mission," he snarled. "The Mudepa could be on the move, and we would never know. They could be in danger. Dying. And by the time we get there, they will be gone."
    "Are the Mudepa not strong?" said Starflower.
    "The Gaku were strong!" Dreamcloud shouted. "If our clan can be destroyed so easily, the Mudepa are nothing."
    Nightshade shuddered with the chills of fever, wrapping his wings around himself for warmth. Even the protective leather armor didn't help. He coughed.
    "But what can we do, Dreamcloud?"
    "Leave! If we go now, we might save the Mudepa!"
    "We don't even know if they need saving. For all we know, they could be suffering from the disease, and following the map could be the best thing for them!" The owl sneezed.
    Dreamcloud fell silent, his expression sullen as he cooked the meat on the end of a broken pickaxe.
    "What is this doing here?" said Melissa.
    Nightshade turned and saw her standing over the chest. He shrugged.
    "Hey, rat! Did your big buddy bring this chest over here?"
    The ape grunted something.
    "He says no. But it's nothing to complain about."
    "I know. It's just weird, that's all."
    "Quaro does what he wishes," said Amo.
    "Oh! So you and your feathery boyfriend moved it."
    "No." The snowy owl reddened. "He's...not my boyfriend either."
    The mink just laughed. She leaned over the chest, examining the latch. "Well, it's still locked, so everything should be in there." She sat down on the lid, watching the frog and chick owl preparing the food.
    Nightshade noticed the snowy female approaching the fire with something square and heavy in her paws. She set it down next to the firewood.
    "What's that?" Starflower asked.
    "It's...I think it's a plate from a cart."
    "What are you doing with that?"
    "We can eat off it instead of the ground."
    "But it's dirty."
    "So's the ground." With a shrug, she ran her feathers over the surface a few times. "Better?"
    "I suppose. But you left some feathers behind."
    "Are you molting?"
    Amo shook her head. "I don't usually molt until late February...and not this much." She frowned.
    Ten minutes later, Dreamcloud finished cooking the meat, placing it next to the cooling roasted mushrooms and odd miniature gourds.
    Nightshade heard a horrible loud retching sound. He turned just in time to see Bongo tossing his cookies. The ape let out a string of grumbling noises.
    "I don't know, Bongo! Why did you throw up on yourself?"
    "Ungh ungh oop umble!"
    "We're not exactly close to water, Bongo!"
    "Oople google bumba numble!"
    "Well maybe that will teach you to take baths more often! I don't know!"
    Disgusted, Nightshade looked away, preferring to glance at Melissa instead. He thought the mink seemed troubled about something. She had a worried look on her face and she kept glancing at him, then at Amo and someone else, then back at him again. When he stared back with an expression of confusion, she looked away, pretending to stare at a rock.
    Amo said a prayer and they ate. Nightshade found the meat to taste like beef jerky mixed with liver. He took that and the mushrooms with salt, then tried one of the pods, which had a flavor like bread and sauerkraut. They didn't have any water, so Dreamcloud resorted to mashing various plants and draining their juices into a gourd, and that's what they drank.
    Nightshade roared. It was a spontaneous outburst, almost like he'd somehow contracted Tourettes, only it sounded like a Hurut.
    The others stared at him. He just shrugged.
    Once they finished eating, Dreamcloud stood up, gesturing to Starflower in sign language. The chick owl got to his feet and the two walked away from the campsite.
    "What are they doing?" said Melissa.
    "I don't know." But, as they marched a few yards away, Nightshade's ears picked up their conversation.
    "Let us leave here and seek the Mudepa," said Dreamcloud. "The others can find out on their own what sort of idiot quest this is once they get to where they're going."
    "I...don't know, Dreamcloud. They have become my friends. And the female...I feel I am finally with my own kind!"
    "You will find others. We are seeking the greater good, Starflower. The Gaku must live again. It cannot die with us."
    The Gaku walked further.
    Nightshade felt hot, sweaty. It felt uncomfortably warm, but nobody else seemed to be complaining.
    "I don't know, Dreamcloud. This disease could spread even to the Mudepa. I think we can help them the best by finding these Kapacuda and bringing some to the tribe."
    "Bah! The Mudepa are not as helpless as you think. The will doubtless have cures for this disease, ones far better than those pathetic plants."
    "If that's so, Dreamcloud, they don't need our help! We can go visit them anytime!"
    "Yes, but how will we find them! They are not ones to leave trails!"
    "In that case, maybe they're too smart for maps, and we won't be able to find them anyway."
    "Their plan is no better!" Dreamcloud shouted. "What makes you so certain that that plant will have any use curing anything! For all we know, it could be nothing more than a stew herb, or something to sprinkle on maize bread! This quest is a pointless Toji hunt!" He sighed. "I'm sorely tempted to leave you here and seek out the Mudepa on my own."
    "You wouldn't! You can't!"
    "You are all that is left of our tribe. That is why I ask you to come with me, to seek out the Mudepa. Leave them to find their Kapacuda. We don't even know if that map is reliable. What if it's all just a story? But the Mudepa...we can ask them to join us, to rebuild our once great tribe, and destroy those cursed Huruts once and for all!" He broke into a coughing fit.
    "You sound like you're sick, Dreamcloud."
    "It is nothing. I ask you again, will you come with me?"
    "I...what about Shade?"
    "The demon can take care of himself. You saw how he can use sorcery for his own protection. He and the others can find that weed on their own."
    Starflower stared at the frog, then turned to face the campsite. "I can't do it, Dreamcloud. These animals are my friends. I feel like they're part of our tribe. I can't just leave them like this. Perhaps we can convince them that finding the Kapacuda isn't going to do anything?"
    The frog shook his head. "They would not understand. It is like playing the Rakoheq for a Naugha." He sighed and said nothing else.
    "What are they doing?" said Melissa.
    "Not sure. Maybe re-establishing their tribal pecking order?"
    Amo pointed her beak at the sky, eyeballing the sun. "I hope they get done soon."
    "What do you care? You're an owl!"
    "I'm just worried about my friends back at home. The longer we dally, the worse things could get."
    "Now that you mention it, I've got a few managers that are probably cheesed off about my attendance right now..."
    Starflower slowly strolled back to the campsite. Dreamcloud just stood there.
    "Let's go," the chick owl said.
    "Which way?"
    Amo lifted the board, tilting it at various angles as she squinted at the markings. She pointed to the northeast. "That way."
    With a grunt, Bongo picked up the chest and waddled ahead in that direction. Nightshade and the others picked up their possessions and followed, except for Dreamcloud, who remained in an angry sulk.
    They crossed the dry, cracked soil, marching past the broken mining carts and corroded implements.
    Nightshade looked back and saw the frog following at a distance, webbed hand pressed against his forehead as if he had a headache.
    The ground rose in steps, spreading shelves of rock pitted with cracks where scraggly weeds grew. A well-like structure had been set up on one of the shelves, but it had been designed to lift salt out of the depths. No water could be seen.
    The shelves turned to boulders which they had to climb to traverse, until they flattened out again.
    They came to a grade leading up a hill surrounded with pine trees. The ground was mostly needles and pathetic little plants, the soil being rather loose. He could see something like a cliff or a mountain peak between the trees. The gorilla reeked. He tried to avoid walking next to it if at all possible.
    The hill became steeper and steeper, and they came to a series of boulders, which they had to navigate by squeezing between or climbing around on steps.
    Past that was a shelf, and a rock wall.
    "Are we still following the map?" Melissa asked.
    "It says to go northeast from the mines. It was right about them being there, so..."
    "It's just I didn't think I'd need climbing equipment for this."
    Bongo stared at the rock face, looked up, then looked at the chest. The next moment, he was hefting it up like he were about to play shot-put.
    "No." Nightshade growled. "Don't you dare." He'd since put the vial inside the chest, and was unsure how it and other things would do under that circumstance.
    "We can air lift it," said Amo.
    Starflower shot her an annoyed glance, then nodded.
    "Great," said Melissa, scratching herself. "Did I brush poison ivy or get bitten by something?"
    Bongo set down the chest.
    "Which way do we take it?" said Starflower.
    The snowy owl consulted the map, then pointed at an outcrop. "Somewhere in that area."
    Starflower sighed, picking up one end of the chest. Amo grabbed the other, and they took off in the air.
    Everything went black.
    "What are you doing!" Melissa cried.
    Nightshade looked around in bewilderment. He was at the edge of a cliff looking over a wooded hillside, his feet resting in a pile of fallen pine needles. He could see the mountain, and presumably the rock wall, about twenty yards behind him.
    "I..." He rubbed his head. "I don't know. How did I get here?"
    "You walked for part of the time, then flew for awhile. When anyone asked you where you were going, you didn't say anything. You just kept going."
    He swallowed.
    The mink took a deep breath. "I didn't want to say anything, but...something happened to me this morning, and it was just like this." She sighed, looking worried. "I was in the mine. You know, just looking around. And then, suddenly I'm down in some cave with all the skeletons and salt crystals. I didn't know how I got there. It was lucky I could even find my way out." She came closer. "I should think this is cool, but I don't. This is not punk. I...I'm scared. Hold me."
    "On terrain like this, I'm not sure that's the safest option," Nightshade said. "But if you need a teddy bear that much, fine."
    They weren't that close to the edge. Ignoring the comment, she threw her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He reluctantly returned the embrace. Melissa let out a couple short sobs, then became silent, just standing there, staring over his back. After a few awkward moments, she stepped back.
    "I guess we should go."
    The hybrid nodded.
    They returned to the rock face.
    "He's okay!" Melissa shouted. "We're okay!"
    Templeton nodded, waving back to her. He shouted for them to climb up, though the hybrid found it very faint. Sound didn't travel very well around there.
    Melissa smiled at Nightshade. "Care to carry me up?"
    Nightshade gave an impatient sigh, with a hint of growling underneath it. "Even if I were strong enough for a passenger, I would only help. There's no excuse for laziness, and I don't carry living dead weight."
    "Gee, thanks, Romeo." She shook her head in annoyance, sighed, and faced the rock. The wall wasn't that sheer, so she had no trouble traversing the first six feet.
    Satisfied that she was in no danger of falling, the hybrid flapped to the top, to a wide spreading shelf looking out over an immense forested valley framed with mountain ranges. The view was picture perfect, but the air was thin.
    "It's about time!" said Dreamcloud.
    The rat peered at him with curiosity, whiskers twitching. "What was that all about?"
    Starflower stared at the hybrid. "Did you go on a dream quest?"
    Nightshade didn't respond.
    The frog smugly crossed his arms. "See? Even he thinks this mission is foolishness. He's seeking guidance in dreams."
    Nightshade shook his head in protest.
    "We waste time," said Dreamcloud. "Unless Shade wishes to share his plans, we need to be going. I want this over with."
    Templeton let out a roar like a Hurut. He cupped his paws over his mouth, his eyes wide in shock.
    "Well," said Amo. "Let's go." She led Nightshade and the others across the shelf.
    Melissa paused to put her paws on her knees and take several deep breaths.
    "You're going to hyperventilate," said Templeton.
    She shook her head. "Are we any closer?"
    "It says it's straight ahead. I think after that we should be there."
    Nightshade broke into a coughing fit so bad that he wondered if he'd contracted TB.
    "And not a moment too soon, I guess."
    They came to an edge of the shelf. Nightshade could see a vast field of yellow stretching out below, framed by the greens of grasses and pine trees, with a wide river feeding through it from a waterfall.
    "Dreamcloud! Is that Kapacuda down there?"
    The frog leaned over the cliff, staring at it. "I...cannot tell. I must examine the leaves." He found a foothold, climbing down to a shelf below.
    Their trip down was just as slow as the one they took to go up. There weren't many places for feet and hands. Dreamcloud had sticky frog hands, Nightshade and the owls could fly (even Bongo was skilled at brachiation), but Templeton and Melissa had a bit of trouble with the gaps being too large or the steps being too low. They had to be assisted by the winged individuals, and Melissa kept having coughing fits which caused her to lose her grip.
    At last they reached the ground, in the middle of another wooded area. The group traveled through brush, pushing aside pine branches as they made their way toward their destination. A yard down, they came across a group of small sized reptilian creatures with head fins and rigid dinosaur tails. The feline ears on their heads turned quizzically as Nightshade's group approached. As they came closer, the creatures darted off into the brush.
    The woodland opened up into a green meadow, the yellow plants teasing them from the distance.
    Nightshade felt cold again. The sun beat upon him with its warm rays, and he had the armor, but it didn't seem to be enough. He kept walking, wrapping his wings about himself tightly.
    They soon arrived at the yellow plants. They were like flowers with long, red, tongue-like stems, with bumpy seed growths all around the petals. Dreamcloud plucked one of them, staring at the leaves. He removed a petal, chewing it. "These are Kapacuda, for whatever they're worth." He commenced plucking them.
    "Everyone, start gathering," said Amo.
    The others gave their assent and the harvesting began.
    About halfway through with a bundle, Melissa set it down. "I'm going into the woods. I'll be right back."
    Templeton looked at her like she was crazy. "Why do you need to go back there?"
    "I gotta go, okay!"
    "Oh."
    She ran off into the woods.
    "Is that an airplane?" Templeton asked.
    Nightshade furrowed his brow. "Airplane?" He walked over to where the rat was standing, looking out across the field. Sure enough, a gray, cigar shaped object with a fin stood out amidst the plants.
    "Whatcha doing?" said a female voice. "Planning to open a shop?"
    Hearing the strange voice, the hybrid turned around. He was shocked to see a squat little opossum in a robe standing there.
    "Who are you?"
    "I'm Kara. I live here. What are you doing?"
    "My friends are sick. They need this Kapacuda to cure them."
    "What are they ailing from?"
    "I...don't know. They turn green. They get really sick."
    "It's not going to work."
    "What? How do you know? You don't even know what they're ailing from!"
    "I can see you're molting, your friend has the shivers, and someone was coughing nonstop while I was picking berries. There are few diseases that literally turn you green, and I know for a fact that Kapacuda doesn't cure any of them. I tried it."
    Nightshade cleared his throat, trying to clear up his breathing.
    "I don't believe you."
    "Go ahead and try it. I lost a husband to the disease. He turned into some kind of beast and tried to attack me before running off to the mountains."
    Amo put a paw on her hip. "Then why did someone make a map of this place?"
    "Map?"
    She handed the opossum the board.
    The opossum studied it carefully, then gave it back. "That's my uncle's house."
    Amo dropped her bundle. "Now what do we do?"
    "I don't know."
    A long, awkward silence.
    "Is that your airplane?"
    "What's an airplane?"
    Templeton pointed to the gray object.
    "That's my house!"
    "Does it fly?"
    "Um, no. Why would it do that?"
    The rat looked at her like she was insane.
    Nightshade approached the oppossum. "Do you have any idea, anything at all, that might cure the disease that took your husband?"
    "No," she said with a look of mild irritation. "As I said before, he ran off. He was clearly out of his mind, and he still was in a horrible condition. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong and fast for me. I lost him in the dark."
    Sighing irritably, the hybrid absently rubbed his arm, where some of his fur had already molted away. "Then we have wasted two days for nothing." He looked back and forth from Amo to Dreamcloud. "So what do we do next? Get this 'house' running again?"
    "What do you mean `again'?" said the opossum.
    "I don't think any of us know anything about aircraft mechanics," said Templeton. "Or how to fly one." He squinted at the plane. "From where I'm standing, it doesn't look so hot. At the very least we'd need an industrial size bottle of airplane glue to get that left wing back up."
    Nightshade shook his head.
    "We should go back to where we came and seek the Mudepa."
    Starflower sighed and nodded. "There's nothing for us here. We might as well."
    Amo frowned, putting a paw on her hip. "Who's this `uncle' you're referring to?"
    "Feeb." She pointed to the northwest. "He's a doctor. He knows a few things about medicine, but when I asked him to help my husband, he kept rambling about ewe's blood. I think he was delirious."
    Amo sighed, furrowing her brow. "Does this Kapacuda stuff do anything at all?"
    "It cures cuts and bruises, headaches, rheumatism, and eases upset stomachs. That's about all, I should think."
    "I guess they're still useful, then."
    Templeton shrugged. "Kind of like Flu Buddy."
    "You want some tea?" Kara asked. "I can brew you a few pots if you want. There's plenty of this stuff to go around."
    "I'm sorry, but Starflower is right," Nightshade said seriously. "We've already lost too much time, with quite literally nothing to show for it. As it stands, it's past time we headed back."
    "Good!" said Dreamcloud. "Let us go while there is still daylight!"
    Amo shot Nightshade a hard look. "You're just going to leave?"
    "There's no cure here. Why do I need to stay?"
    "How do you know there isn't a cure here? We haven't spoken to that uncle of hers yet."
    "We don't need to. Kara's already told us what her uncle said; there's a cure to be found in sheep's blood. This confirms what Cordero told me about his own blood being viable, when he invaded my dreams last night. So if you don't believe me, feel free to ask him when we get back."
    Amo sighed, staring at the Kapacuda. She turned her gaze to Templeton. "You'll come along with me, won't you?"
    The rat swallowed. "I...er, that is..." He shuffled his feet. "It's just, it, we just don't have that much to go on at the moment. I mean, I'd like to talk to this uncle guy, but I also want to go home, and make sure my friends get home. So we can't exactly split up. And Nightshade, well, he's the boss. He's not a guy I'd want to get on the bad side of."
    "So you're afraid to stand up to him? Is that it?"
    "No, I..." he stammered. "I'm just afraid of, of, not getting home."
    "I can fly you home. Where do you live?"
    "It's not like that. I'm from another world."
    "I'm willing to fly across oceans."
    "I appreciate the offer. I really do. But you don't understand. Magic was involved. No one can fly us to where we need to go." He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I just want to go home!"
    "Sweetie, you can always have a home with me! You can stay at the Roost for as long as you like. We might even be able to build you a place next to mine. Please, Templeton. Say you'll come with me!"
    He swallowed, giving Nightshade a nervous glance. "I...can't you, I dunno, check on this guy and fly back to us with your findings?"
    She sighed. "So you're not coming."
    "I can't. Really. Like I said, I appreciate the offer, but..."
    She glanced at Dreamcloud, then marched up to the chick owl.
    "Come with me," she said to him. "I heard you were related to the builders. Maybe you have more family somewhere."
    "I cannot leave Dreamcloud. The Gaku tribe is the only family I've
    ever known." He gestured to Templeton. "The rat is right. You can fly to us with your answer, if you find it."
    She eyed Bongo for a second, then looked back at Nightshade with a glare. "Fine. Go then. I'll go seek the answer on my own." She frowned, pointing her beak at the opossum. "Can you please take me to your uncle?"
    Kara gave her a grim nod. "Follow me." And she pushed northward through the Kapacuda.
    Amo cast Templeton a sidelong glance, then marched on after her.
    "Well," said the rat. "As long as we're here, we might as well gather some of this stuff just in case it proves to be useful." He unlocked the chest, cracking open the lid. "Well hello! How did that get in here?" He waved Nightshade over, pointing at the contents.
    CONTENTS
    "What?"
    "I know. I don't know what this stuff is doing here. I distinctly remember being attacked by Huruts and having everything stolen from us."
    Nightshade shook his head.
    "I guess not everything is in there, but the good stuff is." He shrugged. "Well, anyways, I'd better hurry up and stuff this stuff in the trunk." He grabbed the bundle Amo had discarded, threw it in, then set about pulling more of them out of the ground. Bongo grunted and pulled a few himself, tossing them in with generous quantities of dirt.
    Nightshade's ears detected a loud beeping sound coming from the chest, but nothing happened.
    With a nod, Dreamcloud turned his back to the mountains, marching south. Nightshade and Starflower followed.
    Noting that he was being left behind, the rat slammed the trunk shut and gestured to Bongo, who grudgingly hefted it on a shoulder.
    Templeton jogged up to Nightshade, his eyes scanning back and forth across the field. "Where's Melissa?"
    Nightshade shrugged. "She said she had to go."
    They kept walking, eventually reaching the edge of the forest.
    He saw the mink coming out of the woods, hitching up her pants.
    "Gross," she muttered, cinching her belt. "And I bet nobody in this place has heard of Pink Bismuth."
    They walked on, reaching the side of the cliff they'd come down.
    Melissa scratched herself, then stared at the handful of fur in her hand. "No! I'm too young to be balding!" She stared at Nightshade a minute, then sighed.
    Bongo approached the rock wall, glared at it a minute, then grunted something to Templeton.
    "Bongo, I really don't think throwing it is a good idea. I understand we've lost one of our...carriers, but..."
    The ape grunted angrily, dropping the chest on the ground.
    Templeton poked Nightshade's side. "Hey, buddy. We've got a problem. Since our lady friend flew off, we're lacking, er, air service, so to speak. Now, Bongo wants to play shot put with it, which might not be good for the frame, and probably its contents. And you can see we can't exactly lug it up a wall like that. I'm not sure you want to leave it behind, so..."
    With a grumpy expression, the hybrid grabbed an end of the chest. Starflower grabbed the other, and they flew it to the top of the cliff.
    Impatient with the slow progress, Nightshade was picking up the chest again before Starflower had time to catch his breath. Fortunately, it was easier to glide down than it was to fly up. The hybrid flew back up top to supervise, leaving the chick owl panting for breath at the base of the cliff.
    He sat down at the edge of the cliff, watching everyone slowly make their way up the handholds, outcroppings, and footholds. He was surprised to see Melissa reach the top of the cliff first. She sat down on the shelf, catching her breath. "It's a good thing I used to climb those rock walls at Caballo's!"
    About ten minutes later, Templeton reached the top, watching the gorilla scrambling up the rocks.
    Nightshade heard the sound of rocks breaking, then a roar.
    "Bongo!"
    He leaned over the edge to see what the rat was looking at. About two yards below him, the gorilla was hanging onto a tiny jutting rock for dear life. Apparently he'd stepped on a rock that had since given way under his weight. He had nothing within arm's length to grab upon, and only the puniest of rocks lay below him. The distance was such that if he fell, it could cause broken bones. He stared up at the rat in terror, immobilized with fear. He shot Nightshade a pleading look.
    Nightshade dropped to his belly over the ledge, stretching his arms toward Bongo. "Grab hold, now."
    In a panic, the gorilla flailed at the outstretched hand, but he found it not close enough.
    With a grunt, the hybrid extended his arm to the point where it could reach no further. Fearing the worst, he drove the claws of his other paw into the ground, bracing himself.
    Without warning, the big leathery hand clamped down on his, and his body went scraping forward, chest dangling over the edge. His claws had gouged a long set of furrows in the thin soil, only now stopped by pebbles caught in their path.
    He gasped, staring down at the overweight simian in horror.
    As the gravel popped up and his small chips broke off his claws, someone grabbed his feet, pulling back. Someone else grabbed his legs, and he felt his chances had improved.
    Nightshade heard a loud flapping sound, then saw something like a gray blur zoom around the ape.
    The chick owl had positioned himself beneath Bongo's feet, frantically batting his wings as he pushed upwards. His versatile bird feet bent at an angle, their claws digging into tiny cracks and holes in the rock face.
    All of a sudden, Nightshade felt the paws that held him slip and his stomach jerked over the edge. His chipped claws sat buried in gravel only a foot or so behind. He considered spreading his wings, but feared it would hit someone in the face and cause them to let go.
    The chick owl was tiring. The gorilla's weight caused the hybrid to inch forward once again.
    His chest burned with the friction. Even with the vest, it reawakened old injuries.
    Whump. He felt a pair of steely hands clamp down on his ankles like a vice, and his body scratched back up on the rocky shelf, with the gorilla in tow.
    A second later, the hands slipped and he was skidding forward again.
    "Ridiculous fashion statements!" he heard a deep scratchy sounding voice growling. "Why do they think this will protect anything!"
    One of Bongo's hands clapped higher on Nightshade's arm. The weight and added force thrust the hybrid's chest back over the edge. A big hand moved to his shoulder, pulling him further over the edge.
    The gorilla caught hold of the cliff, and he swung himself back up top.
    At last free of the enormous weight, Nightshade went flying back, bowling his friends over in the process.
    Bongo cowered in the middle of the plateau, laying low against the rock. He sat gasping for air, seeming to be working himself up to the point of hyperventilation.
    Nightshade brushed himself off, still smarting from the rough treatment. "There," he said to the gorilla. "Now we're even. And don't make me do this again."
    The gorilla let out a low growl, but it was half-hearted, and he was content to just slouch on the rock and rest.
    Melissa, the frog, and Templeton sat on the ground, catching their breath.
    Nightshade noticed a stranger standing in front of them, the black horned owl with the crooked beak. It stared at him with a stern expression on its beak, stone silent except for its periodic racking coughs.
    Nightshade heard pattering sounds, and Starflower landed on the rock, gasping and panting for breath.
    The stranger's eyes narrowed. "I should have let you drop."
    With that, the stranger took off.
    "Well that was a pleasant fellow," said Templeton.
    Everyone else was too tired to comment. For some time, the group lay there panting for air.
    The sun had lowered in the sky, changing to a golden orange.
    "There will not be many hours of daylight left." Dreamcloud stood up. "We must go."
    The others resignedly got to their feet. Bongo, apparently eager to get down to solid soil again, hurried down the opposite side of the cliff.
    They all reached bottom without event, the way being less steeply inclined, with slightly easier transitions between levels, and nothing significant breaking away.
    Melissa was brushing herself off and catching her breath when Templeton attacked her. He simply let out a gutteral roar, charged, and slammed her fists into her, again and again.
    "Templeton!" Melissa shouted. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
    The rat just growled and punched her in the stomach and anything he could reach.
    "Ow!" she said. "Stop it!"
    Nightshade opened his mouth, letting out a high pitched frequency. The vibrations from the sound wave knocked the rat to the ground.
    Melissa stepped over Templeton's body. Then, as he roared and tried to get up, she knelt on his stomach, pinning his arms down.
    For several tense moments, the rodent struggled, roaring and growling and snapping his teeth, until, after a few minutes of struggling, he appeared to calm down, either due to fatigue or resignation.
    He gave her a wild look, hissing and panting in shallow breaths through his teeth.
    Melissa leaned closer, a triumphant grin spreading across her muzzle. "Minks are known to eat rodents, you know."
    Templeton panted, hissing through his teeth. Then his head flopped back and his whole body fell limp.
    He blinked, staring at her. "What am I doing on the ground?"
    Melissa climbed off him. "You tried to attack me. `Try' being the operative word. It felt like a baby was punching me."
    Nightshade thought she was exaggerating because he'd seen her wincing a few times. He almost thought she'd been wiping tears out of her eyes once or twice.
    "I did?"
    "Duh!" she said with indignance.
    The rat looked heart sick. "I...I'm sorry. I...don't know what got into me."
    "It is the bad spirit," said Dreamcloud.
    Melissa stared at him. "You mean he's possessed?"
    "Yes. Spirits can cause headaches and vomiting and many other things."
    "He means it's a disease," said Templeton. "It's like `bad spirit need heap good medicine.' That sort of thing."
    Melissa frowned.
    "Well!" Templeton said, sitting up. "Unless Mr. Frog wants to do an evil spirit dance, I guess we should get going."
    "Refresh my memory. Where are we supposed to be going again?"
    "We seek the Mudepa tribe. They live in a village southeast from here."
    "More of your kind, huh?" She lowered her eyebrows. "Isn't this like dropping a bunch of cowpox blankets into a reservation?"
    "I do not understand," said Dreamcloud.
    "We're like Typhoid Toby, aren't we? I mean, what happens if we go down there and the disease spreads and we wipe everybody out?"
    "The Mudepa will have a cure," said Dreamcloud.
    "Our tribe had a wigwam outside the encampment," said Starflower. "Whenever someone had a bad spirit, they would go there until they were well."
    "So who's going to run in and tell them we're there?"
    "There are other methods."
    "What? Smoke signals?"
    "You know of such things?" Dreamcloud smiled. "It seems we are not so different after all."
    The rat groaned.
    "Let us go." The frog marched ahead, across the broad rock shelf.
    The gorilla picked up the chest, and the group started off in the direction they'd came, down the large boulders, to the steep grade beneath.
    As they entered the forest, a tiny brown chinchilla creature with a jagged tail darted through the scrubby bushes beneath the shedding cedars. A burst of blue light shot from the bushes, and arc lightning shot across the trail. A clump of pine needles caught fire.
    Dreamcloud stopped, raising a hand. When nothing else happened, he said, "It was frightened." And he kept walking.
    "So," said Melissa. "When are we going to set up camp and cook up these plants?"
    "I don't know," said Templeton. "That opossum told us that they didn't work."
    She stopped. "What do you mean `they didn't work'!"
    The rat shrugged. "She says they're fine for the stomach and for headaches, and maybe cuts. That's about it. She had a husband or something who had the disease, and it didn't work."
    She sighed. "Unbelievable." She shool her head. "So now what are we doing?"
    "We're trying to find some Indian tribe."
    "And how's that going to help us?"
    "Um..."
    "Yeah. This is great."
     Their trek continued, around the scrubby saplings, and around the hill.
     Melissa stopped. "You said that stuff works on the stomach, right?"
     "That's what she said!"
     "Okay, well I've got diarrhea. When are we going to stop?"
     "I don't know. In a little while."
     "All right. Hand me one of those things. I'll just chew it."
     "Bongo!"
     The ape grunted and put the chest down. Templeton opened it, handing her a flower and stalk.
     She chewed the petals for a few seconds, then screwed up her face in disgust, spitting them out.
     "This is horrible! It tastes...it tastes like...I don't know, old soggy French fries or overripe bananas or something."
     Bongo let out a surprised grunt, digging out one of the plants. He munched the top off, chewing it for a couple minutes before swallowing it. He then stuck out his tongue in displeasure. "Oop omble eegle ump!"
     "Bongo says it doesn't taste anything remotely close to a banana."
     Melissa laughed. "Well how would you describe it?"
     "Ump ooger ooble yoo google dumble ump."
     "He says he doesn't know, but it doesn't taste like bananas."
     She shook her head. "Maybe it'll taste better when it's boiled...and we add something to it for flavor." She put the rest of the plant away.
     Templeton closed up the trunk and they rejoined the group.
     They came to the weather beaten flat stones outside the mine, traveling past the well, their campsite, to the blackened land beyond.
     Fires had reduced the fields to ash and stubble scattered with Zaidnipe carcasses, the trees nothing more than dark skeletons with blistered bark.
     They came to the edge of the field, where the dead grass ended and a green meadow started. As they stepped into it, Nightshade's ears perked at the sound of something shuffling in the grass. Not again!
     His blood pressure increased, his pulse escalating as memories of the previous day's events came rushing back. Extending his claws, he let out a scream and leapt at the nearest one, spreading his wings.
     As he was ripping his claws into the creature's body, he heard a strange squealing war cry.
     Templeton had the dagger in his paw, charging at the second Zaidnipe. He ended up burying it in the ground.
     The gorilla grunted and casually smashed the bug between its paws.
     Nightshade looked around carefully, but didn't find any more of the creatures. Just two, both dead. He stared at Templeton. He could have stabbed her. He swallowed. Why didn't he? Shaking his head, he marched to the river bank.
     Dreamcloud hurriedly waded in, while Starflower flew to a large rock in the middle of the water.
     Melissa removed her pouch, handing it to Templeton. "Here. Put this in that chest. I don't want to ruin the cel phone."
     The rat nodded and put it away.
     Melissa shot Nightshade a sidelong glance, then frowned. She shivered, hurrying to the other side, Bongo and Templeton following. Nightshade flew after them.
     The sun had turned red, becoming lower in the sky.
     "I do not wish to stay here," said Dreamcloud. "We should keep moving."
     Dreamcloud led them up the shore, up and through the weeds, passing beneath The Roost.
     Black smoke billowed through the brush. The smell of burning wood and fabric lay thick in the air. The hybrid looked up and saw bright tongues of fire licking out from the edges of the structure, orange embers showing between the cracks in the boards.
     Nightshade heard a scuttling sound. He turned and saw a koala bear scrambling down a tree at a remarkably un-koala-like speed. Looking exhausted, he loped over to Nightshade, caught his breath, and cried, "Listen! You guys have got to help me! The Huruts set the Roost on fire and we need to get everybody to safety!"
     Templeton stared at him. "We need to rescue...everybody?"
     "Okay, not everybody. Trajan and Cephas and Nateela are safe, and they're trying to rescue everybody else. If you could go up there and try to find who's left or at least fetch some buckets of water from the river, I'd be grateful."
    Once he heard the words "get everybody to safety", Nightshade launched himself into the air with a huge flying leap, flapping up to Roost level. Even before he got there, his sonic eye was already sweeping the place, scanning for survivors.
    He spread his wings, hovering on updrafts of heat, staring down into the inferno. The structures were mostly intact, but with blazing roofs, doors, and side panels. The roof of the building below him had collapsed inward, consuming its contents.
    A cloud of hot steam drifted over the conflagration, apparently pouring from water barrels consumed in the blaze. The moisture did nothing to quench the flames. Being hot vapor, it quickly dissipated, and a black cloud smelling of burning meats took its place.
    He could sense seven bodies lying about in the flames, five of them seeming to be Hurut, two appearing to be animals.
    A third animal body lay underneath a heavy tree branch. As he hovered closer, he sensed movement. Thinking it to be the flames playing tricks with his eyes, he squinted and watched it again. The motion was feeble, but it was motion nonetheless. A scan confirmed...whatever it was was still alive. Barely.
    A large snowy owl zoomed past him, carrying a white cat away to safety.
    As he was hovering in closer to the victim below, he noticed motion out of the corner of his eye. He looked and saw a group of Huruts carrying a wiggling and struggling kangaroo, bound in ropes, to the edge of the platform, where ropes had been tied.
    He flew closer to the tree branch, launching a continuous sonic beam at it as he approached.
    The large tree branch cracked into pieces, falling around the victim.
    The hybrid dropped down amidst the flames, grabbing the body by the armpits. The smoke hung thick around the area, preventing him from breathing much without coughing.
    Not wishing to stay put much longer, he flapped his wings, catching the updrafts until he made it over the edge, gliding to the ground.
    The area seemed largely empty, with most of his companions gone. He saw Templeton carrying a woven bag full of tools purposefully through the weeds, but the others were nowhere to be found.
    That koala probably got them to help out, he thought. That left him with an injured victim, apparently a two tailed fox, suffering from smoke inhalation, and a kidnapped kangaroo that was rapidly disappearing into the foliage.
    Assuming the victim was well enough to recover from the fumes and start breathing on his own, Nightshade left him, chasing after the kangaroo.
    The Huruts had already gained some distance since he'd rescued the fox, marching hurriedly down the path. He spread his wings and swooped after them, stopping at a safe stalking distance.
    He suddenly heard a female sounding yell, and a white shape burst out from the bushes, waving around a broadsword.
    Nightshade crept closer, watching as the figure planted a boot in a Hurut's stomach, clobbering another over the head with the hilt of her sword.
    He saw her bring back the sword, shoving it right through one creature's chest.
    The kangaroo fell to the ground in the commotion.
    The next moment, a Hurut had its hands on the female's neck, squeezing the wind out of her. She grabbed the hands, trying to pry them off, but wasn't strong enough.
    One of the other Huruts, the one that wasn't bleeding, turned back to the captive, picking it back up.
    Gathering his breath, Nightshade unleashed the loudest screech he could muster, sustaining it for as long as he could while he stepped closer.
    The Hurut stopped in mid-stride, staring at him.
    The monster holding the white one turned its head to look. The female took the opportunity to drive her boot into his crotch. While this may have worked on some other world, it didn't work there. She struggled in the Hurut's grip, kicking and punching in efforts to escape. Her arms were pinned down.
    The one nearest to Nightshade dropped his captive, stomping closer, its claws bared.
    The monster holding the white one turned its head to look. The female took the opportunity to drive her boot into his crotch. While this may have worked on some other world, it didn't work there. She struggled in the Hurut's grip, kicking and punching in efforts to escape. Her arms were pinned down.
    The one nearest to Nightshade dropped his captive, stomping closer, its claws bared.
    The hybrid stepped into a fighting stance, preparing for whatever came next.
    With a growl, the Hurut charged at him.
    Nightshade waited until it got close, then stepped aside, clawing it in the stomach. As it doubled over, he slammed his claws in its back. He tried to sweep its feet out from under it, but the feet were too unyielding, so he ended up just pushing it down.
    The thing popped back up, roared and grabbed him around the throat.
    After driving his claws into its forearms, Nightshade grabbed them, kicked the Hurut several times in the stomach, and butted heads with it.
    The Hurut released its grip and toppled over.
    Nightshade looked up and saw the other Huruts had been dispatched, one apparently with an arrow.
    The female stood on the back of another one, leaning on the hilt of a blade driven deeply into its back. "I should be in a rock video."
    The kangaroo got up, brushing itself off. "Thank you, noble sir. I am certain I did not want to go where they were taking me."
    Nightshade nodded. He looked back and saw a feathery form crouching over the fox he'd rescued, doing something that looked like mouth to mouth resuscitation. Considering the fact the victim had inhaled smoke, he wasn't too surprised.
    The mink pulled out the sword and sheathed it. "Well, I guess I need to get back to the bucket brigade. Sure would like to get out of the stone age sometime." She stomped around in the bushes, pushing plants aside until she brought out a bucket. "What's Q stand for?"
    Nightshade squinted at her.
    She pointed to a tree where the letter had been carved in big flamboyant swoops.
    The hybrid shrugged.
    "Are we still filming?" said a voice behind him.
    He turned around and saw the kangaroo on the ground, brushing himself off. "Filming?"
    The kangaroo glanced back and forth at the trees above him. "Where's the bloody cameras? I'm not going to stay in character if nobody's filming us!"
    Stay in character? Filming? Nightshade shook his head. "Forget the cameras; where's the fox that was supposed to be the star of this show? I've been here for a week and I haven't seen him."
    "A week? Seriously?" The kangaroo laughed. "How much are they paying you?"
    "I haven't seen a cent."
    "You poor devil." The kangaroo shook its head. "And if there aren't any cameras, I bet you'll be really sore!" He put his paws on his hips. "For what it's worth, Rocky's training with his Curling team. He'll be in tomorrow."
    Nightshade sighed.
    The kangaroo offered a paw. "My name is Gordon. What's yours?"
    The hybrid introduced himself. "If you'll excuse me, I have animals to rescue." He shot up into the air again, scanning the inferno for victims with his bat senses.
    His ears could detect a faint scream. He swooped through a cloud of smoke, thinking it came from the fire, but then he saw the hole. There was someone below the blaze calling out for help.
    Since the fires were quite hot, and he didn't need to go through them, he dove away from the platform, swinging beneath. He scanned again. The individual in distress seemed to be a few yards in. He flapped his wings, moving closer.
    KRAM! Part of the upper platform caved in, flaming logs tumbling into the second floor. He winced as hot ash blew into his hair.
    A Siamese cat in a jacket and leggings hung from a weak looking branch connected to part of the platform, looking quite afraid.
    The branch cracked, dropping a foot. The creature mewled and cried for help.
    As soon as he saw the cat, Nightshade caught her, gliding to the ground.
    "I am so grateful to you for your rescue." The cat said in an Asian sounding voice. "I was very dangerously on branch! I could have deadly! I think so!"
    "Uhhh... yeah." Nightshade took a quick look around, setting her on the grass. "I'm just going to set you down now."
    "Stop! Get away from me! You're insane!"
    Nightshade heard fluttering. He looked up and saw Starflower digging his claws into a tree, seemingly afraid of something on the ground. The owl's legs and arms were bleeding, though the cuts looked superficial. Nightshade looked down and saw a rat with a dagger.
    "Stop! You're not in your right mind!"
    Templeton just growled.
    And he didn't think he had the heart for battle. Swooping down, Nightshade latched onto the tree, near Starflower's perch. How many times is he going to lose his temper before that load of crap slaps him in the face?
    "You all right?" he asked the owl.
    Starflower shook his beak. "I do not wish to kill my allies, but this rodent is giving me reason to reconsider."
    "You and me both."
    
    Figuring the owl could take care of himself, Nightshade took off for the treeline again.
    As he hovered over the flames, a large gray shape flapped toward him. He recognized it to be Nateela, covered in ash.
    "The Roost is clear! Everyone is out of harm's way!"
    Not willing to take it on faith, Nightshade launched another volley of sonar, making certain of the truth of the situation.
    He found nothing in the immediate area.
    He noticed the overall blaze had decreased in size from when he'd seen it last. He'd figured some of it would have been put out by the bucket brigade, but seeing an entire section of the faraway trees doused surprised him. That and whatever that was that resembled fireman's foam.
    Deciding he could investigate it later, he scanned the area again.
    He sensed something alive in the hut below him. Barely alive.
    The problem was, the hut was on fire.
    Here goes nothing. Using his sonic eye, Nightshade scanned for a weak point in the walls of the hut.
    He noticed the hinges on the front door were weakened by the fire, but the main portion happened to be sturdy enough to present a worthy obstacle to the victim's exit, especially when ablaze.
    Figuring that he couldn't make the victim's condition any worse, he opened his mouth, blasting the door with a sonic burst.
    The fire damaged fibers shattered into toothpick sized splinters, falling to the floor.
    A female looking Black-Faced Apalis lay curled up on the floor within, unconscious. Apparently it had been thwarted by flames on all sides and had just resigned to curling into a ball and waiting for the fire to die down. The walls were not thatched and quite thick, so it wasn't like she could have just jumped through it.
    Nightshade kicked aside the burning timbers, carefully reaching under the bird's legs and torso. She was light, being an avian and narrow of figure, so he had no trouble lifting her. He hurried outside and took to the air just as the roof of the small structure collapsed.
    A few moments later, he was on the ground, setting her on the grass. The bird was still unconscious, and not breathing.
    He looked around, checking to see who was available to help.
    He didn't see anyone around. "Hello!" he shouted. "I've got someone who isn't breathing! A little help!"
    Nothing. He cursed himself for his foolishness, staring down at the victim. What am I supposed to do? He considered how it might possibly help to jolt her with electricity, but doubted its effectiveness.
    He knelt down, staring at the creature's beak.
    Flap flap flap flutter flutter.
    He blinked and the dark horned owl was leaning over the unconscious body, giving it rescue breathing. It was odd to see it done with an avian, since a beak doesn't trap air that well. The owl had its feathery digits cupped around the gaps, puffing as forcefully as it could muster. He stopped to give chest compressions, then returned to rescue breathing.
    He looked as if he were about to faint. He went back to pushing on the victim's diaphragm, looking a bit dizzy from hyperventilation.
    He glanced up at the hybrid, gesturing at the victim's beak.
    Nightshade stepped closer. "Just so you know, I never took a formal lesson in this."
    The owl just grunted.
    Nightshade shrugged, then planted his muzzle on the bird beak. He filled her chest with air, and the owl did chest compressions.
    "Breathe."
    The hybrid shook his head, and repeated the process. He figured that owls could do CPR on animals with lips better than their own kind due to a lack of a seal. He continued this for a few reps, but couldn't help wondering if it were an exercise in futility, the bird being too far gone. Not only that, but he was becoming light headed. He wasn't feeling too well, and having breathing problems didn't help things.
    The owl pressed on her chest again, grunting at Nightshade.
    Nightshade just frowned at him. "It's too late!"
    "Again! Once more!"
    Growling, he turned his head back to the beak.
    She coughed in his face, her eyes wide in shock.
    She wheezed, sitting up, her eyes darting back and forth. "Where am I?"
    "You're safe," said the horned owl. "You were in a fire."
    "Where is my daughter?"
    "Away from the fire. The last I saw her, she was carrying tools."
    "Well," said Nightshade. "It seems things are under control here."
    The owl nodded, making a dismissive gesture with his hand.
    Nightshade stood up, stretching his wings. He felt exhausted, but pushed himself to continue, taking off in the air.
    He scanned a tree dwelling for life and found none, so moved on to the next.
    He scanned the center platform for victims, but found none. The bucket brigade had been putting out fires around the trees at the far edge of the Roost, and it looked like they only needed to put out the other half and they'd be finished.
    After scanning ten trees from their tip to the lower platform, he came to the conclusion that Nateela was now correct. The only form of life he could find was a battle pet, safely enclosed in its square container. He tried to pick it up and move it, but the outside had become red hot, so he just left it there.
    It'll be all right. They don't need air holes, and they turn into energy when they're being put away.
    Having done all he could, he decided to check with the bucket brigade.
    He found a group of bucket dumpers at the edge of the complex, working in assembly line fashion.
    The platform was extinguished and water buckets had been set up around the perimeter. Hadrian was at the front of the line, flying buckets across the gap between their platform and a hut whose bridges had burned away.
    Melissa was at the edge, passing buckets from a goat on a rope to Starflower, who looked a bit exhausted.
    Nightshade saw the rabbit passing water across a rope bridge (it looked like someone had re-tied it a few times), and he saw a bat and a deer taking buckets to a fire across the way.
    The moment he landed, a female bat thrust a heavy bucket into his hand, pointing at the isolated hut. The hybrid nodded, carrying it over.
    What followed was a long, tedious process. He dumped buckets on fires, someone brought more up from down below, lather, rinse, repeat.
    As he was dumping a bucket on one of the rooftops, he heard a startled cry and growling sounds.
    It came from a lower platform, around the area with the fireman's foam. He spread his wings and swooped down, scanning the area to see what was happening.
    He found a group of six Huruts standing in front of a wall of flame, one with a five foot parakeet slung over its shoulder, all growling and ready to clobber the relatively smaller green otter that stood in front of them.
    Nightshade landed next to the otter, flashing a feral grin. "Looks like my kind of party."
    "You're welcome to join in if you like," the otter replied. "My name's Damien."
    "Call me Nightshade." The hybrid extended his claws. "And thank you, I will."
    One of the Huruts leaned over the edge of the platform, letting out a loud growling sound.
    A pair of their allies, this time with wings, swooped down on the platform.
    This is going to be interesting, he thought with gritted teeth.
    He watched as the otter waved its hands and muttered, gathering a fine mist around himself.
    "D'you do that often?" Nightshade asked, mildly surprised.
    "Only when there's water about to work with." The otter grimaced slightly, but kept moving his hands as the mist compacted itself around him. "Not so much around here."
    One of the Huruts in the lead, one without wings, charged at the otter.
    Tensing his leg muscles, Nightshade launched himself claws first at the charging beast's neck.
    As his claws ripped into the rough hide of the one in front, someone hit him in the side of his stomach, causing him to double over, and he was punched in the face.
    He spun one full circle and gave the opponent a severe clawing from the other side.
    When the Hurut turned to face him, the hybrid tripped him and threw him into the fire. The creature screamed in agony, then, to escape the flames, stumbled and fell to the forest below. A Hurut with the face of a bulldog caught a corner of his wing, pulling him into the fire.
    Nightshade let out a cry of outrage as the flames scorched his clothing and set his fur on fire. The next moment, he was throwing the Hurut off the platform.
    He heard the sounds of a fight behind him. When he looked back, he saw a winged Hurut grab the otter and carry him off.
    He considered following him and trying to break the Hurut's grip, but he realized he wouldn't be able to stay airborne carrying someone that big. Instead, he shoved the nearest Hurut into the fire in attempts to clear a path to the captive.
    The other Hurut that still had its hands free tried to attack him, but he dodged out of the way, knocking the creature through the hole in the floor.
    At this point, the remaining monster panicked, growling something to the second winged Hurut. Nightshade saw the scaly green wings snap open, and the two were airborne, with the avian hostage in arm.
    Nightshade leapt off the platform, flapping his wings as he fell. He rose in the air, chasing after the two Huruts. Once he got in range, he let out a burst of ultra high pitched sound.
    The force of the vibrations caused the flying Hurut to let go of his comrade, who dropped like a stone. In a panic, it let go of the bird, who ended up doing an aerial somersault as she fell through the air.
    Before he could dive in to rescue her, the winged Hurut flew at him with a roar, swiping at him with its claws.
    The hybrid countered with another sonic burst and a fist to the face. His enemy dropped from the air, and he saw the bird was still falling.
    He dove, folding his wings for maximum speed, but it didn't help. She was still too far ahead, the ground far too close.
    He did notice, however, that she had been sawing at her bonds with the serrated edges of her beak.
    He dropped faster, steering himself closer. The bird was now only a few yards away from the ground. And pain. Still not close enough.
    Snap. About a yard from the ground, the ropes came off, and a fan of yellow feathers exploded out from her body.
    She flapped her wings and took off for the trees.
    Relieved, Nightshade slowed his descent, winging his way back up to the bucket brigade.
    They'd just put two more trees out when one at the opposite end of the Roost leaned sideways.
    Part of the trunk collapsed and fell, bringing one of the tree houses down with it.
    Nightshade heard confused shouts from the ground, then yelling and the sounds of a bucket brigade putting things out.
    "There goes Nateela's home!" said the bat, shaking her head.
    Nightshade felt frustrated that he couldn't do anything, but it was a huge tree.
    Starflower flew over the area to check, but he said nobody was harmed, they were just putting out the fire.
    Night fell before they had put the last of the fires out. The only one that remained happened to be the bonfire someone was using to cook dinner.
    Worn out by the day's events, Nightshade decided to stay and rest until daybreak.
    More of the fish ended up being served. Being suspicious of it, he opted for the game that Starflower and Dreamcloud caught.
    Dreamcloud had acquired a persistent cough, sounding like he was coughing up half a lung all through dinner, and Bongo was scratching like he'd found a huge colony of fleas somewhere in the forest. Nightshade tried to ignore it.
    After he'd eaten, he found some leaves and made himself a spot to lay on. There had been talk of going back up top to rest, but the fire damage would have been a problem, so the other Roost inhabitants settled on the ground as well.
    As he was lying down, Nightshade heard rustling. He rolled over and saw Melissa lying on a pile of leaves adjacent to his, smiling at him.
    "You're like a knight in shining armor or something," she purred. "I didn't know you had such a big heart!"
    A faint glow rose through the hybrid's fur, quite visible in the semi-darkness.
    "Aw! I made you glow!" She put a paw to her muzzle. "I wonder what will make you glow more?"
    Being dead tired, he was not in the mood for this. "Later," he grunted. He rolled over and went to sleep.
    He awoke to the sound of snapping twigs. It came from somewhere past his feet where he couldn't get a good look, and there was a white arm wrapped around him. It seemed the mink had been using him as a teddy bear.
    He got himself disentangled and sat up.
    Dreamcloud was staring at the fire, apparently in a deep broody funk. Starflower, who had been poking at the cinders, muttered something and the frog turned to look at him.
    "Good. You are awake. we must go soon."
    Although aching all over, Nightshade said, "I couldn't agree with you more."
    They had more of the tough, cow-catfish tasting game they'd ingested the previous night, and then got ready to go.
    The gorilla had taken up coughing, and was quite a distraction due to his volume. He seemed to have a bad habit of coughing on the hybrid's shoulder. Nightshade made it a point to avoid him.
    And so the group continued their trek through the woods, in the direction of the rising sun. They crossed through a field of scorched brush and weeds, stepping around ash clods and smouldering boards and blackened logs with dying embers staring out of their cracked surfaces like eyes.
    The Roost passed behind them and they came to a field of weeds untouched by the fire. Nightshade entered a wooded area, crested a hill, and...BLIP!
    It was like reality was a film, and someone in the projection booth had just cut a huge section of the film off and taped the loose ends together.
    Suddenly he was standing on a taller hill, looking down at a cave on the side of a small mountain. A big black river poured out from a cleft in the nearby rocks, flowing on down to somewhere in the far distance behind him.
    He saw a sea of green surrounding the mountain. At first he thought it was plants, but as he squinted, he noticed something unsettling. He was staring at an encampment of Huruts, about a thousand strong.
    "Where are we?" said Melissa.
    "Got me." The rat squinted, then let out a gasp. "Huruts!" He dropped to his stomach. "Everyone! Get down!"
    Bongo started dancing.
    "No! You fool! Lay on your stomach!"
    Everyone laid flat on the ground, staring at the crowd.
    "We are not in the right place," said Dreamcloud. "This is Mount Warrikri. We are in the heart of Hurut land. We must go, and go now!"
    "Wait!" Templeton pointed at the crowd. "Isn't that that sheep fellow from the Roost?"
    Nightshade squinted and saw a white wooly figure being pushed along through the crowd by armed Huruts, who kicked and beat upon him as they went along.
    One of them tore his robes off, and he stood naked among them. Then he got hit in the stomach.
    Feeling a familiar anger rising within him, a rage that demanded action, Nightshade stood tall, giving a gutteral roar as he spread his wings high. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the rat fearfully asking him to stay down, but for all the hybrid's usual caution, he gave no thought to stealth as he kicked off the mountain.
    Flying down to the crowd, he launched a barrage of sound waves from the air, flattening Huruts left and right. A few who were bound by gravity tried to leap at him, to stop him somehow. Some of the stronger jumpers even got close, but none could touch him as he swept away from their approach, grabbing the air with his wings and throwing himself sideways.
    He could see the sheep up ahead, at a distance of something like twenty yards, maybe more.
    As he flew closer, he heard a loud noise, like the sound of hundreds of umbrellas opening. The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by a cloud of winged Huruts. The fast moving beasts swarmed above him, pressing in on all sides with their maces, clubs and assorted weaponry, forcing him to descend. He flew at only a height of a couple feet above the horned and helmeted heads of the Hurut horde, eyes focused on the sheep.
    Something grabbed him, and he faced a one eyed creature with a misshapen face and half a beak. The thing tried to beat him, but Nightshade made short work of him, taking to the air just as one of them lunged at him.
    He flew straight into a winged Hurut. The monster had warts covering every centimeter of its face, which wrinkled into a scowl when he saw the hybrid. It dove at him, knocking him down into the mob.
    Jumping to his feet, Nightshade bashed it in the side of the head and it fell unconscious.
    He thought he heard a familiar sounding war cry, but could not tell for certain in such a din of roaring.
    As he was spreading his wings to take flight, something slammed into his stomach, throwing him backwards.
    When he stood up, he saw a seven foot tall brute wielding a club.
    In a blind rage caused by intense pain, he let out a sonic burst, leaping and clawing at the Goliath until he drew blood. He continued tearing until the creature fell backwards onto the ground with a heavy thud. The crowd scattered, retreating to a safer distance.
    The hybrid spread his wings, scanning ahead for a clear spot.
    It was then that he heard strains of Lumpy Gravy. He recognized the tune from Melissa's cel phone.
    He looked back and saw the mink staggering towards him, her chain mail ragged, blood soaking through her tunic. Her bloody paws clutched the broadsword like a vice, even as red liquid poured down her white pelt.
    "I'm comma rescues yeh," she muttered with ragged breath. "Crazy bat."
    "You should've stayed behind." The hybrid stared at her bloodstained clothes, wondering whose blood it was covering her. Upon closer examination, he was saddened to discover the majority belonged to her. "I can't protect two people."
    "Then who would protect you?" she slurred.
    He shook his head.
    "Tyrone!" A gravelly sounding voice shouted.
    Catching the ring of familiarity, the hybrid's fur bristled, his hackles raised. He whirled around, clenching his fists.
    That was when he saw the smoking cat pulling back the hammer on a gun.
    "Long time, no see!"
    BLAM!
    The bullet went straight through the hybrid's damaged armor, shattering bone and causing blood to splurt out.
    Nightshade stumbled backwards, clutching his chest as everything spun around him.
    "Nightshade!" a female voice screamed.
    The last thing he saw was the cat's face leering at him like the Cheshire cat as everything else faded from view.
    ***
    River felt something opening on his neck. Air came in. It seemed that he could inhale with his mouth shut, and despite being deep beneath a maelstrom, he found he could breathe.
    He felt his body being dragged along for what seemed like a mile, away from any useful climbing surface, passing through cramped little tunnels and seemingly bottomless channels.
    The tunnel widened.
    Something hit his head.
    As he faded from consciousness, he noticed a soft green glow moving toward him.
    He awoke lying face down on the smooth surface of a broad, flat rock. It was dark, the only light coming from something green and glowing to his left. He heard the soft churning of water, and faint pattering sounds coming from above. He lifted his head.
    "So you're awake," said Epin. "Good. I was worried."
    River moaned, sitting up. He rubbed his head. "What happened?"
    "I have no idea, mate. There was dry lightning, the wind picked up, we hit a tree, and then the ground opened up. I'm guessing we hit a sinkhole or something. I don't have the foggiest idea where we are. All I know is we're in a cave. Don't know which way is up or where we came in."
    River frowned. He looked over the west edge of the rock.
    Epin moved to that side, giving him more light.
    The shore could be seen a short distance across the bubbling water. He looked over the north side and saw a giant lake leading somewhere in the darkness. To the south, a row of massive rocks formed a path in the water, like islands or stepping stones. A cave tunnel lay to the east, leading into darkness. The northeastern edge of their rock also yielded a narrow foot bridge leading in a northerly direction into the dark.
    "Well," said Epin. "We should choose a direction, I suppose. What do you think?"
    Something let out a loud, moaning noise, like a barge.
    "What was that?"
    "I dunno, Damien, but I don't intend to stay and find out!"
    River looked at Epin. "Me either, come to think of it."
    "Right." The platypus pointed a webbed hand north. "How about we swim up ahead, then? I think I hear air rushing in through there."
    "Then that's probably our best shot," the otter replied. "I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life pushing stale water through my gills."
    "Right," said Epin. "Let's go."
    River coughed several times.
    "Are you okay, Damien?"
    River nodded, wiping his nose.
    The two jumped into the water. It rushed around his ears in a muted roar, the cold seeping through his fur to his hide. He paddled after Epin through the dark liquid, seeing nothing but the green glow and vague indistinct shapes.
    After a few seconds of paddling, he heard a low moaning sound, like that of a whale. It rose up from beneath him, sounding angry.
    In the dim light, he could see a cluster of thick sucker tipped tentacles unfurling from the depths.
    The otter heard his friend gurgling, then the light dimmed.
    A moment afterwards, he felt something sticky and muscular wrapping around him, slowly tightening around his body.
    Without taking the time to think about it, River sank his teeth into the nearest tentacle.
    The tentacle tasted of rotten tuna and grease, and when his teeth sank in deeper, inky blood that tasted of bread mold oozed into his mouth. He blanched.
    The tentacle snapped away from him in an involuntary spasm of pain.
    River quickly swam ahead, searching for his friend.
    He spotted the dim glow several yards below him, the tentacles curling around the shape, dragging it into the depths.
    All right, River, this is just like doing the dishes, the otter thought to himself, spreading his arms wide. It's just on a larger scale. No problem.
    A firey red and gold light spiraled down each of his arms, gathering in his palms. Bringing his hands together in front of him, he launched a powerful jet of boiling water at the creature.
    The depths became clouded in a sea of boiling effervescence. The creature flinched, but did not release its prey.
    River coughed with his mouth shut, making his chest hurt.
    A tentacle curled its way in front of him. He swam away from it, paddling blindly into the dark.
    A minute later, he was awash in thick, oozing fluid. He tried to swim out, but couldn't tell which way was up.
    He felt one of the tentacles brush against his pelt. He swam away and found another sucker tipped appendage curling around his legs. He tried to escape, but the tentacle tightened, holding him fast. He tried to blast the tentacle with his heat power, but it didn't respond.
    The warm fluid poured around him and he felt himself sinking lower. The darkness deepened.
    As he descended into the void, small flecks of light appeared in places, but they could easily have been created by water pressure on his optic nerves.
    He tried biting the tentacle, but it did nothing but leave a bad taste in his mouth, and the water pressed down on him like a vise.
    He dropped past a rock formation, then something like a cloud passed in front of his eyes, and he found himself staring at a massive set of shark's teeth, glowing with some kind of unearthly bioluminescence.
    The maw opened and the water around him poured into the vacuous opening.
    Summoning a reserve of energy, the otter directed it outward from his body. His skin began glowing fiercely, shining with a pale blue, almost white light.
    Wherever the light pierced the water, the temperature suddenly dropped to freezing cold. Small sections of ice bobbed through the illuminated depths, growing larger with each passing second.
    River focused the light towards the behemoth, aiming the cold energy straight into the monster's open mouth. The ice spread out beyond his fingers in a spiderweb shaped crystalline formation reaching several feet.
    As the creature inhaled, the big chunk of ice hurtled into its mouth, along with all the other pieces of ice he had generated.
    The giant teeth turned downwards in a frown. River could hear it making grunting noises.
    The tentacles tightened around him. He tried to put the freeze on them as well, but he broke into a coughing fit. His light dimmed and went out, leaving nothing but the sharp teeth illuminating the dark.
    The tentacle curled closer to the toothy mouth. He struggled and beat against the thing with his claws, but it accomplished nothing.
    The tentacle closed tighter and the darkness around him deepened. He felt his ribs popping, the oxygen draining out of his body.
    His vision blurred and faded into the indecipherable darkness around him.
    As he drifted into unconsciousness, he saw a faint green glow pass in front of him, then a thick oozing cloud obscured it from view. He blacked out.
    He awoke lying on his back, atop a broad flat rock.
    The platypus knelt by his side, pointing his beak down at him. "Blimey, I thought I lost `ya." He shook his head. "Almost was done for myself `til I found that pointy chunk of rock!"
    River coughed and spat up water.
    "Yikes. I thought the Zith technique would get most the water out. I guess not."
    The otter shivered and sat up. In his friend's dim light, he could only see parts of the area around him. The shape of a tunnel up a head, a couple rock walls, and a large hole in the floor.
    Epin stood up. "We should go. We'll probably get sick sitting around in the cold with wet clothes like this." He grabbed River's paw, lifting him up.
    River staggered a few steps, coughing and shivering.
    Thunderous splashing sounds. River slowly turned his head.
    In the dim light, he saw the creature rising out of the water, an imposing mass of rippling muscles and sucker tipped tentacles towering to the height of a small skyscraper.
    The toothy mouth opened.
    River waved his paws and chanted. A glowing blue light shot out, turning into a neon blue cloud that sucked in streamers of fog from all directions.
    The cloud condensed into a large, sharp edged diamonds of ice, floating high above the floor.
    River waved his hands, and the frozen flechettes whipped through the chamber.
    The ice stuck in the inky flesh like a staple in a steel belted radial. Useless, hard to detect surface damage.
    River sneezed. The surface of the water froze over, turning into a large sheet with jagged icicles sticking out.
    The thing let out a loud roaring noise, sounding like a lion and some sort of bird, with the volume of a semi truck horn. The sound shook the whole cavern, causing rocks and dirt to tumble down from the ceiling. It jostled the bats from their resting places, causing them to scatter, squeak and fly away.
    The creature slammed down a tentacle and the sheet broke apart like a tray of unfrozen ice cubes.
    "Go!" Epin shouted, pushing River forward.
    Shivering, the otter hurried away from the creature, scampering towards the cavern ahead.
    He heard a sound like a cracking glacier, then loud splashing sounds.
    River skirted the pit and broke into a run.
    He heard splashing, then slithering sounds behind him.
    "Don't slow down now!" Epin cried. "It's gaining on us!"
    Slap slap slither. Slither slap slap slap. The floor groaned in protest.
    River dashed up a slanting rock, reaching the wide, flat shelf at the top. He stopped with his paws on his knees, gasping and panting for breath.
    "Keep going!" Epin shouted. "It's still on the move!"
    River looked around. The cavern appeared to have been chiseled out by someone or something intelligent. The stalactites had been carved to look like pillars with cornices and fluting and ornate carvings along the top. Rows of archways lined walls carved with abstract reliefs and representations of trim. A number of sculptures shaped like muscular beasts stood sentry in the center of the chamber. Three passageways lay to his right, another three to his left. Two could be seen at the distant end of the room.
    Slap, slap, boom. He could hear the creature behind him.
    "Damien, man!" said Epin. "Do something and do it quick!"
    "What do you expect me to do?" River asked. Bounding to the nearest passageway, he searched the air with his whiskers, feeling for a stray gust of wind. "Every spell that I've tried tonight has either flared up out of control, or had no worthwhile effect. I'm running out of tricks, and if something doesn't work soon, I shall run out of energy as well."
    "Hush. Let's just get out of here."
    The otter stared down the tunnel. "Not this one. Let's find one where there's wind coming through. There's got to be an exit around here somewhere."
    "I'll go check on the right, then." He ran to the other side of the room.
    Disoriented by the low illumination, River huffed his way to the third entrance on the left. Stagnant.
    The monster slapped and banged noisily on the rocks, trying to get up on the shelf.
    "Over here!" Epin exclaimed.
    "Where are you?"
    The glowing light came over to him. "This way."
    Epin dragged him across the chamber to second archway on the right side. River hurried in, stumbling his way down a stone corridor decorated with carved reliefs of faceless, misshapen creatures, wrought with ornate interlaced patterns.
    He stopped, resting a green paw on the wall, catching his breath. Green. He stared at his paws. He wasn't sure if it was Epin's light or not, but they definitely had a greenish cast to them. And he was seeing bald patches, the hair having fallen away to reveal something slick and scaly. His chest suddenly felt tight. He pressed a paw to his breast, gasping for air.
    Epin put a paw on his shoulder. "Are you orright, mate?"
    His heartbeats sped to an uncomfortable rhythm. He felt like he were going to die. It occurred to him that his friend was completely useless to stop whatever was happening. For the next few seconds, he just wanted him to take that webbed hand off his shoulder and leave him alone.
    "River?"
    The next minute felt like an eternity. An eternity of staring at a worried platypus and its beak, thinking about how he was going to die staring at him.
    "River! Tell me what's going on!"
    River just gasped.
    Then life went back to normal. He straightened. "I'm okay. Let's get out of here."
    He pushed on, staggering five yards. The corridor yielded no doorways or wall sconces, only more carvings. He stopped, coughing and gasping for breath.
    "I think we're safe, mate," said Epin. "That thing's a mite too tall to get us now."
    River leaned against the wall and sighed, staring at the entrance. It was difficult to see anything that far away in the dark. He sighed, sliding to the floor. With chattering teeth, he clutched his body, shivering, trying to rest.
    Wham!
    He jolted back upright. "Where is it?"
    The platypus dashed up the tunnel a few feet. He came back. "Difficult to tell, but it's got to be too large for this tunnel."
    The beast let out a deafening roar. A blast of warm air smelling of rotten meat and Windex poured through the tunnel.
    Epin sat down next to River, catching his breath. "It'd be best if we got out of this cave as soon as we can."
    "No disagreement here!" he rubbed his paws together and clutched his arms for warmth. It didn't work so well. He trembled, shuddering at the decaying hamburger smell.
    "Are you really okay? You scared me back there."
    "I...don't know."
    Bang! Bang! The walls shook, echoing with the sounds of thunderous rumbling.
    "We'd best keep moving," said Epin. He got up, pulling River to his feet. The two ambled on, seeing nothing but carvings for several paces.
    Abruptly, the corridor stopped, reverting to a narrow tunnel of snaking rock formations slimy and wet from ceiling drainage. Here and there the walls opened up, but he could only see pockets, dead end enclosures, long crawl spaces that narrowed to the dimensions of a small infant on all fours, and shafts that dropped off into oblivion.
    They pushed onward. As the monster's thudding faded into the distance, River slowed his movements, trying to regain his energy. After going like that for a considerable distance, never finding a desirable path to the right or the left, they came to an end point. The tunnel opened up into a round cavern where a faint light streamed down from above.
    River raised his eyes. There seemed to be a roughly circular shaft leading upwards from his position, like the interior of a volcano. Something large and dark appeared to be blocking the opening at the top, reminding him vaguely of a solar eclipse. He stared at it, wondering where exactly the tunnel was on the outer countryside.
    He looked down. A gigantic curving stone gray object stood in the center of the cave, its surface marked with a series of striations.
    Epin tugged River's arm, pointing to it. "Whattaya reckon this is?"
    The thing resembled a nautilus shell, wrought so artfully that it almost seemed there had to be some sort of intelligence behind its manufacture. "Could be a rock formation that someone carved into like those carvings in the tunnel back there."
    "I dunno, Damien. It's not the right color." He went up to the object, knocking on it. It made a metallic clang. He yelped and pulled his paw back. "Ow! Hot!" He waved his pain frantically, stepping back. "What in blazes?"
    A pair of bumps on the shell flashed with a red light. Streamers of fog rolled over the object's surface.
    "What is that thing?"
    River didn't reply.
    The object suddenly lit up with an eerie glow which pulsated from somewhere in its depths. There was a sound like refrigerator switching on, then a long, low chirping sound in a "B" range. The muted noise droned on and on at a constant pitch, the low notes slipping into the subconscious. It let out a loud hiss.
    "If I had to guess," River said, backing out into the narrow corridor, "I'd say it's trouble."
    A circular hatch appeared on the side of the object.
    He heard a loud hiss, and the hatch cracked open, folding out into a sort of airplane staircase while steam poured around the edges. He backed up some more.
    Boom boom. The otter heard a thunderous noise behind him. He looked back and saw a cloud of dust rolling down the tunnel. "What was that!"
    "What was what?"
    "I heard something."
    "Maybe that thing's been banging around again."
    Epin crept closer to the craft, staring up into the hatch. He tilted his head, eyes scanning the area. For several long seconds, he walked back and forth around the stairs, peering inside every which way he could. Nothing happened.
    He walked back to River, leaning in close. "That thing looks as empty as the Smarmy Wenchhound when they found it adrift at sea. But looks can be decieving. What's the plan, mate?"
    The otter took a moment to consider the situation. Monster out there, seemingly empty house in here, and no indication of a way out, except for the wind we felt at the tunnel entrance. "What have we got to lose?" he asked, stepping forward. "Might as well take a look inside."
    The two crept up to the strange object.
    River watched as Epin slowly climbed the staircase, disappearing into the hatch. With caution, he followed him, creeping up the stairs.
    He saw an egg shaped tunnel at the top of the stairs. The walls curved into a perfect ovoid, its surfaces featureless, glowing with a faint, eerie luminescence.
    "What in blazes!"
    Concerned, River hurried to the top of the staircase, scampering through the hallway.
    Beyond, it was all crudely assembled plywood. He stared at his surroundings in disbelief. A pair of black and white television monitors had been set in one of the walls. Microphone headsets hung from nails driven into the boards. Cigarette ashes, papers, candy bar wrappers, and discarded soda cans lay scattered about the floor. On one end, he saw a square hatch with a handle. The word `exit' had been written on it in red spraypaint.
    He leaned close to one of the monitors, squinting at it. The picture seemed to be displaying a scene from a warehouse decorated to look like a cave, where big boxy camera machines stood like sentries between animals seated in collapsible chairs.
    He saw a Hurut pass in front of the screen. He gasped and backed away.
    When he saw the Hurut remove its head, he furrowed his brow, coming close for a better look.
    "What!" said Epin. "Those things are actually birds?"
    "Alien group two to costuming," said a voice coming out of the nearby headset. "Costuming, alien group two. Get your butts out there. We've only got fifteen minutes to shoot this spot."
    A gravelly voice popped in to say "get that barrel out of here before you start a fire! Camera three to position three!"
    "Can I get some more Jookie over here?" said a female voice. "Please?"
    "No soda. We'll never get this scene done if you keep going to the bathroom every five minutes."
    "How about I just not do the scene? How about that?"
    "Jane, we're paying you a thousand pogs a-" Sigh. "Greg, get her a Jookie."
    "What do you suppose a 'Jookie' is?" River wondered aloud.
    "I haven't the slightest." Epin wandered over to the hatch, staring at the saw marks. "Hey, mate. What say we try opening this thing marked `exit' and see what happens?"
    The platypus pushed against the panel a bit, but it didn't open, so he kicked it.
    Wham! The piece of plywood hit something below, and River was staring out at a stretch of fake stalagmites and a concrete wall.
    Epin jumped down out of view.
    River sneezed, wiped his nose, then cautiously followed him.
    "Hey! You two!" shouted the gravelly voice. "Stop screwing around! Get off the set and close that panel! You're wrecking the shot!"
    "Set?" said Epin.
    River blinked. "Panel?"
    He saw a fat raccoon in a ball cap climb out of a folding chair, marching up to them. "Guys! This isn't funny! If you want to play around, you can go over to Set B. We're not filming anything in there today."
    The two stared at him.
    "We're filming a cat food commercial. Big money. Big money. Shoo!" He waved his arms, making frantic motions toward the area by the wall.
    Looking baffled, Epin wandered forward, nearer to the boxy cameras and critters in strange spandex outfits. River followed him.
    The raccoon got between them, putting his arms around their shoulders. He looked at Epin and said, "Randy, baby. I love you. You did a great job yesterday. It's gonna make a mint. I'm just asking you and..." He stared at River, snapping his fingers. "I'm just asking the two of you to step out for a little bit while we do this shot. Go play on your race track. Take a bubble bath. Do whatever you feel like, but I can't have you on the set right now." He led them out of the cave set, behind the cameras, to a concrete floor covered in cables and wires strapped down with tape.
    A trash can shaped robot stood at a lopsided angle, one foot halfway up in the air. Someone had stuck a soda can in its mouth, depite there being a real trash can behind it. Ahead they found concrete walls with soundproofing with the giant words `Soundstage 7' painted on them. There was a fire extinguisher, an exit door with a little security glass window, and a long panel with rows of switches and buttons and levers on it. River looked left and saw a giant blue thing with rubbery tentacles. It made him feel slightly unsettled, but couldn't figure out why. He looked right and saw a box shaped little office with a wooden door.
    River blinked in confusion. "This is all too strange. If they're shooting something, why not just use a musket or a bow? And why did that raccoon call you 'Randy'?"
    Epin shrugged. "Beats me."
    The otter wiped his nose, and it seemed to stop running. For some reason he felt a lot more comfortable than he had felt just seconds before. He wasn't shivering, he wasn't cold, he wasn't coughing. He actually felt good.
    The platypus turned around, looking at the actors and actresses with curiousity. "I'm going to go chat with these blokes and see if I can learn a few things, maybe see if we can get you a doctor. Will you be okay here?"
    River shrugged. "Just fine! Don't worry about getting a doctor. I think I'm over...whatever that was." He held up his hands and didn't see any scales.
    "Orright, then." Epin strolled over to a lady possum in a fifties outfit, giving her a polite nod. "G'day. I'm Epin. What kind of place is this? What's goin' on here?"
    The possum rolled her eyes. "Please, Randy. I know how you like to get carried away with your roles, but you're not even scheduled today. Can you go bug someone else?"
    "Who's this Randy bloke that you keep going on about?"
    The possum sighed and shook her head. "I feel sorry for your girlfriend."
    Epin frowned. He turned his head, looking at a gekko dressed in a skirt and bobby socks. He tapped it on the shoulder. "Hey. Can you tell me what sort of place this is?"
    The green head tilted towards him, and a female voice said, "Yeah! It's this groooovy cave where me and my friends like to hang out and eat The Cat's Meow Cat Food! It's part of a complete balanced meal!"
    "We're not supposed to improvise, Cathy," the possum groaned.
    "That's why you'll end up as a B actress. You don't have the drive."
    "I'm going to drive this size seven heel right through your nostril if you say one more word!"
    The gekko stuck out her tongue.
    A pair of double doors on one side of the room opened, and four animals in silver costumes marched in, carrying large spherical objects under their arms.
    "We're ready to shoot, guys!" the raccoon called.
    The animals put the spheroids on their heads. River stared at them, not knowing what to think. The helmets had eyes shaped like giant teardrops, with thin slots for the nostrils and mouth. They marched toward the nautilus shell.
    The creatures in spandex, who had been sitting around the cameras in chairs, now donned helmets and rose to join them.
    The group of them opened the hatch and climbed into the shell. The hatch closed.
    "Chuck! Raise the UFO prop!"
    River watched as the spaceship slowly rose into the air, accompanied with a very mundane mechanical grinding sound. He looked up and saw that an electric winch had brought the object up to the level of a catwalk above the studio walls. A fruit bat in dirty overalls stood by a control box, finger on a button.
    The possum rose from her seat and grabbed a picnic basket, merrily skipping onto the cave set. The gekko hopped up, skipping after her.
    "Wow!" said Cathy. "This is the grooviest place to eat The Cat's Meow Cat Food, isn't it, Linda?"
    "Yeah," said the possum. "Now we can eat it in peace, without that cat and those silly aliens chasing us around!"
    "Louder!" shouted the director. "Just the last part!"
    "Without that cat and those silly aliens chasing us around!"
    The possum opened the basket, waving the box in the air.
    "Donna! Hold it up for the camera!"
    With a grin that clearly looked forced, the possum tilted the box.
    The raccoon leaned over a cameraman, peering at a blue monitor inside the camera frame. "A little more to the right, Donna!"
    The forced grin became even more forced.
    "No, that's too far right. Move it back to the left. We can almost read the logo."
    Donna sighed, frowned for a split second, then forced the cheesy grin back up as she moved the box into position.
    "Perfect! Now hold it there!"
    Sigh.
    "Now hold it up to your face and tell everyone how much you like it!"
    She followed the directions. "Yum yum wowie wowie wow. Let's enjoy our cat's meow!"
    The gekko leaned close to her. "A grooovy part of a complete meal!"
    "Cut!" The raccoon shook his head, sighed, then rubbed his temples. "Keep rolling." He leaned over his folding chair. "Chuck!"
    Epin wandered over to the otter. "This is a strange place, mate. Not one person seems interested in helping a feller that's lost." He shrugged.
    "Hey! Chuck!" the racoon shouted. "Bring the UFO prop down!"
    The platypus stared at the set of buttons and switches on the right side of the exit door, rubbing his beak.
    The raccoon got out of his chair, glaring at the catwalk. "Chuck! What are you doing up there!"
    "Señor! I dropped my cel phone!" called a latin voice.
    Epin pointed to a switch on the end. "What do you reckon this one does?"
    "I don't know," said River.
    "It looks like only four of `em are down. I think it'd make a prettier composition if they're all up, don't you?"
    "I'm...not so sure about that."
    "Oh what do you know about art!" Epin's fin finger toggled the switch. A distant churning sound could be heard coming from some far corner of the room.
    "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
    The platypus just shrugged, flipping another. River could hear a low humming noise somewhere nearby.
    "Forget the cel phone! I'll buy you another one!"
    "But señor! It's not okay! It has all my contacts in it! I lose e-mail address!"
    The director sighed. "I promise we'll get someone to find it later! Can we get this shot done first?"
    "See?" said Epin. "Nothing bad happened. They just make noises, that's all." He moved his paws to another switch. "Let's see what noise this one'll make!"
    Loud, eerie incidental music blared through the room. An orchestral composition punctuated by the therium.
    "Who's playing that music! I didn't ask for music yet!" The raccoon let out a frustrated growl, banging his forehead with his fists. "Never mind. Horjay! Bring that prop down! Now!"
    "IUno momento, directito!"
    River saw the fruit bat pushing a button on the control box. The nautilus shell lowered a few feet.
    Epin's finger hooked under another switch. Click.
    All the lights went out, accompanied by a loud mechanical sigh. The room went completely dark.
    "Great. Just great." A scooting sound, then the sound of something clattering around on the floor. "Tom! Can you go check the breakers!"
    "Utilities are paid for this month, right?"
    "That's a question for the building manager. Go check the breaker. I'll call Lars."
    "Now how will I find my phone!"
    "Get a flashlight! I don't know!"
    "I think we should get out of here," said Epin. "That exit door looks mighty good to me right about now. What do you think?"
    "Sounds like a plan."
    A square of light appeared in the dark. River saw the platypus walk through it, into a narrow concrete hallway. He followed him out.
    The hallway looked like it had been constructed of cinder blocks. Directly ahead of him, he saw a pay phone and a corkboard plastered with announcements.

CASTING CALL: Young, attractive models, all species, 14-29. Lot 3, studio 1B, 6/22/36 - 4:45p. No polar bears!     FOR SALE: Puke green Conveyor Coupe, @783, slightly used. Needs wheels. If interested, contact (x)9455-1029     NOTICE: DO NOT USE TOILET IN BACK CORNER OF MENS ROOM. DOES NOT FLUSH!     NEED ACTORS! Handsome 20-40 yr old animal. Lot 4, Studio 3, 6/15/36 12:00 PM. No polar bears.     NOTICIA: Cancionetta para Hija de Horjay Fritas, Empanada 12. Fiesta en biblioteca 240 w Wing ave. Musica! Musica! Poca Comidas! Yaah! Regalos, por favor!     2ndPaw Studios 401K: If you were enrolled in the 2ndPaw 401K prior to Distember 10, you need to resubmit your paperwork tomorrow or forfeit all gains on 401K.-QY.     WARNING: DEFECTIVE CATWALK IN STUDIO S6! Exercise extreme caution! Bolts are loose. Could give way at any time! Heed warning signs and tape! Do not cross! Will be fixed 4/11/36.     CASTING CALL: "WACKY NUNS" production. All applicants welcome except polar bears.     NOW HIRING: Sanitation Staff. Polar bears and other animals welcome. No elephants, please.

    River's eyes traveled over to a diagram taped on the wall.
    
    Epin squinted at it. "What do you suppose this is?"
    "I don't know. I reckon it's a map."
    "So which part of the map should we go to?"
    River stared at the map for a few moments. "'Cordero tree'... That could be the Roost I spent the night in before all of this happened. Maybe if we go there, we can find some way to make it back to our own world. This place is all just too strange."
    "What's this Roost thing you're talking about?"
    "It's a place in the trees. Some friends took me there."
    "Oh." Epin shrugged. "Sounds like as good an idea as any." He looked at the map. "If we're facing north..." He pointed right. "And this is east..." He looked left, down the narrow concrete hallway. "Then this is west. And that Roost thing is...somewhere on the left?"
    "I guess."
    They walked down the hallway, staring at the odd assortment of papers and diagrams taped to the walls. Casting calls and movie posters crowded around diagrams of box shaped robots and blueprints of fantasy landscapes. Rubber suits, thick cables and clunky equipment blocked their passage in parts, forcing them to walk around or step over to get through. A door passed by on their right.
    A few yards down they found a mummy, and a metal door. Epin opened it.
    River peered over his shoulder. In the darkness beyond the door, he could see the shape of the big blue thing with the tentacles.
    "Damien, that thing looks a lot like that monster we met in the cave, doesn't it?"
    "I was thinking the same thing. But why's it blue?"
    "Not sure."
    "Did you get that fuse in yet?" a voice shouted inside the room.
    "I find phone, directador! It was in my pocket!"
    "Well at least Horjay found his phone!" the voice said with sarcasm.
    "Señor! I think these animals are not happy! They are stuck inside spaceship! It is very cramped!"
    "That's why we're trying to get the power back on!"
    Epin shook his head. "This doesn't look like a tree."
    "Nope."
    The platypus walked around the mummy. River followed him through a column of blocky robots, around a tall statue covered in a black shroud. He arrived at the edge of a crowd of animals dressed in red costumes. They blocked the hallway and the left door, chattering to each other.
    Female birds of various species wore red dresses trimmed with white, with stocking caps and tights patterned like candy canes. A blue rabbit dressed like a Dickens character munched on a carrot while he read from a script. A pair of kangaroos dressed in suspenders and stripey shirts rested on their tails, looking exhausted. One smoked a cigarette. The other one fanned itself, drinking iced tea.
    "Why do we have to film this now? Christmas is five months away! We're wearing coats in the dead heat!"
    "Who knows. I can never figure out these production schedules. Maybe they don't know how to get their act together in time for the holidays."
    "Or maybe that's when they have their vacation," said a bird.
    "Whatever. I'm just grateful to have work."
    "That's the spirit," River chimed in. "Enjoy what you do, and you can't fail."
    Epin strolled up to a cockatiel in a red skirt, gesturing to the door. "Whatcha doin' in there?"
    "We're shooting a Christmas commercial. It's for some event in Rancid."
    The platypus tilted his head to the side. "What's Christmas?"
    "If I told you, it would cause a rift in space-time."
    "It's about Santa Claus and standing in long lines in toy stores," a sparrow grumbled, taking a drag on a cigarette.
    "Any reason why you'd shoot it?"
    "To make money."
    Epin shook his head. "You mind if we pass by?"
    "Go right ahead."
    River followed him up to the door where the critters stood. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of a large studio decorated with multicolored lights and giant pine trees covered in tinsel. They passed between a female King Charles Spaniel and a lady chimp in a festive outfit, going past fog machines and fans and giant rubber suits shaped like mongoloid guinea pigs.
    Around a yellow chemicals cabinet, Epin came to a door.
    River watched a bright light grow as he opened it. He saw a flash, then the central platform of the roost came into view.
    He squinted at it. While it lacked cameras, wires, or boom mikes, it looked strange. The sky was an unnatural shade of purple, at times bordering on a neon pink as the light changed. A slight breeze wafted his way, carrying with it the faint scent of oranges mingled with rotten eggs. Nothing could be seen moving on the platform.
    "What do you make of that, mate?"
    "So familiar, and yet so strange," River said. "And it smells icky."
    "No kidding." Epin shook his head. "Is this that Roost place you were talking about?"
    "It is, or it was yesterday. How it could have changed so much so quickly, I may never know. But I intend to find out."
    "You still want to go in there?"
    Looking resolute, River said, "The people who lived here are my friends. I'm not going to accept that they're gone without trying to learn what happened to them."
    "If you say so, Damien." The platypus wandered through the doorway. The next minute, he was gone.
    "Epin?" River frowned, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He felt unsettled, disquieted. "But I can't let that stop me," he said aloud. "Epin's in there now, and he might need my help."
    The otter stepped through the doorway, and out onto the planks, the boards making a hollow, strangely metallic sound as he walked on them.
    River saw the platypus standing by a wooden railing, gazing into the pink sky. He hurried over to him. "Epin!" he gasped. "I thought I lost you!"
    "Uh...Damien?" He pointed up into the sky. "Does that moon look right to you?"
    The otter looked up. A pale white and lavender polka dotted spheroid hung in the air, its features devoid of the usual craters, cracks and scarifications common to natural satellites, its surface smooth and polished as a ball bearing.
    "Dames. In all our years of sailing the ocean, under the night sky, under the stars, have you ever seen anything remotely like that?"
    "No, can't say that I have."
    "Mate, I don't think this is that Roost place you were talking about. In fact, I think it's high time we should go."
    "No words could properly express my agreement," River replied.
    He heard pattering sounds. He turned and saw a winged mud puppy perched on the rail. A large solitary eyeball blinked at them. It let out a sound that seemed to be a combination between a chirp and a croak. Its perpetually smiling mouth opened a crack, and it licked its eyeball with a long pink tongue.
    Epin swallowed. "Right. Let's go." He stepped back from the rail. The two of them hurried over to the place where they came in. Once they had found the doorway, they gladly bolted through, into the hallway beyond.
    There was a loud pop, then the strange smell vanished.
    River and Epin stared at each other, then looked back into the doorway.
    The sky was now the normal blue, the moon obscured by the sun and cloud cover. It all seemed ideal until River noticed the cameras, boom mikes, and lighting stands. The sky appeared to be a matte painting.
    Epin sighed. "Well, Damien. Now what should we do?"
    "What can we do?" the otter asked. "We know nothing of this world, and yet nobody here is surprised to see us. They all think we are some others who belong here. Until we find a way home, we can only hope that someone here will see we aren't who we look like."
    Epin shrugged. "Should we just stand here and wait for that to happen? Or should we go somewhere? Should we find an exit, or should we go looking in the other rooms? I haven't the foggiest what to do."
    Down the hallway, River could see a brachiosaurus in a red dress walking his way. She seemed indifferent to his presence, and kept glancing at a paper.
    Maybe I can use this to my advantage. The otter called for the brachiosaurus. "Excuse me, ma'am. I know you've got things to do, but could you help me with something?"
    The dinosaur put a foot on her hip. "Honey, I've got to do a shoot in five minutes. But if you want help, you can go to the information desk up at the front gate."
    "And where is that?" Epin asked.
    The dinosaur pointed down the hallway. "Go all the way to the end, through that desert set. There's a stairwell that'll take you out to the lot. You'll see the information desk next to the guard box." Seeing the blank looks, she sighed and added, "The guard box is that thing with the stripey thing on it." Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the paper, strolling down the hallway. "20% off all Scorcha Minerva dresses this Friday only! Note: This promotion applicable only to Baked Potato Brown only, select sizes...Oh. That's the denouncer line." She wandered further down the hallway, her voice fading to a low murmur.
    The otter turned to Epin. "We have our heading, matey; the front gate, and the information desk. Let's go."
    Epin nodded, marching the other way, back to where they came from, past the props, the equipment, around actors and actresses, through the Christmas crowd.
    River briefly cast the studio with the cave set a sidelong glance, then marched on.
    At this point, the hall seemed to empty out. They passed a pirate skeleton, a treasure chest, a pile of dead bodies (rubber), and a sleeping cowgirl rodent with a script clutched in her paw.
    After a janitor and a pile of cheap gladiator armor, they came to an arid wasteland.
    The area had no boom mikes, cameras, wires or electronic equipment. In the distance, River could see a castle built on an immense rock. He looked back at the studio hallway, then at the castle.
    The sky was blue, the air fresh, though tinged with the clouds of dust blowing over the cracked ground. Bits of scrub brush and tumbleweed grew in odd places, and he could see a very ordinary looking scorpion crawling in a direction away from him.
    "What do you make of this, Damien?"
    The otter broke into a coughing fit. A frigid chill spread through his body.
    "I'm not sure what to make of it," he said, between coughs. "I realize that castle is a castle, but I've never seen a land like this one."
    "The place seems normal enough. The sky looks all right and it was probably around daytime where we came from. The only odd thing about it is the place, but as a matter of fact, that castle over there reminds me of something I read about once. What do you think? Should we go in?"
    "No," Damien replied. "I doubt there's anything for us there, and nothing says we'd be able to get back if we took the time to find out. I suggest we keep looking for the 'information desk' that woman mentioned."
    "Mate. It's kind of hard going to a `desk' when we got this in the way. She did say go this way and the hallway is a straight line. If you know of another way to get to that thing, I'd be happy to hear it."
    "No," Damien replied. "I doubt there's anything for us there, and nothing says we'd be able to get back if we took the time to find out. I suggest we keep looking for the 'information desk' that woman mentioned."
    "Mate. It's kind of hard going to a `desk' when we got this in the way. She did say go this way and the hallway is a straight line. If you know of another way to get to that thing, I'd be happy to hear it."
    "There's always a way," the otter said, looking around for other doors off the hall. "It's just a matter of finding it."
    "So what's the plan, then?"
    The otter rubbed his whiskers, turning towards the hallway.
    "Damien! It's changed!"
    He turned back around, staring at the scene ahead of him.
    He was now looking at a clearing in the middle of a forest. The trees surrounding the clearing were blackened, and all around he saw ashes and crude burial mounds. Here and there, he could see the blackened sticks that once served as tipi poles, iron cooking implements and pots, and various iron tools.
    "What's this we're looking at?"
    "Not sure," said River.
    "Well, what's the plan then?"
    "Not sure," the otter repeated. "But if you really want to take your chances, I'm here for you. Just like shipmates should be."
    Epin nodded. Seeing a heavy looking bar with a clamp on the end, he picked it up, chucking it into the field ahead.
    It vanished.
    "That's not good."
    "You disappeared last time," said River. "And I found you on the other side."
    "I did?" He shrugged. "Well, then. I guess that tells us very little. I wonder why it didn't do that last time?" He rubbed his beak. "Bugger." He stared at the field, furrowing his brow. "I think I should watch this a minute and see what happens." He paused. "But then again, this might be our only way home and if we wait too long it'll change again, and we won't know for how long." Sigh.
    The view didn't change. It still looked like the charred remains of some camp.
    "You know, something seems familiar about that place, doesn't it?"
    The otter shrugged. It seemed vaguely familiar, but that was all.
    "Why, I think this was where that old tribe of natives used to camp. Now what was that called...Gabo?...Gamoo? Trouble is, where is everybody?" He took a deep breath. "We'd best check this out."
    With that, he stepped into the field and vanished.
    River followed him in.
    He saw a flash of light, then he found himself standing in an ordinary movie set, apparently a castle scene of some sort. A group of animals aimed cameras at a pair of fat wrinkly creatures with lifeless looking eye stalks on their heads. A gila monster with a French hat held a megaphone by its side, making gestures to the creatures. A female salamander in a peasant dress let out a fake scream.
    Suddenly everyone stopped moving. A female bat had been climbing upside down from an overhanging girder with a heavy piece of lighting equipment in one paw, but now she hung there motionless. A frog who had been walking toward a giant fan now stood statue-like with its legs bent in an uncomfortable mid-walking position. All sound stopped. River saw Epin standing next to the frozen director, waving a flipper in front of his face. No response. He looked at the otter and shrugged.
    He was about to respond, but he noticed a glowing light out of the corner of his eye, which got steadily brighter and brighter. He turned to look at it.
    A green budgie stood in front of a fog machine, surrounded in brilliant light. It wore sort of a polo shirt, in white, but with a ridiculously tall fan collar, which connected to something akin to a dress, made of a leather-like material, in a checkerboard pattern.
    "Greetings, Damien and Epin," it said in a female voice. "Cordero told me to find you here."
    "Then you can take us home?" The otter turned to Epin. "This is our chance, matey. I say we go for it."
    "Yes, but you may not like it." The budgiar picked up a yellow control box from the fog machine, pushing a red button.
    River heard a low grinding sound, then saw a gigantic matte painting descend on cables.
    As it came to the floor, he noticed that the scene depicted a platform at the Roost, and as it neared the floor, he could see flames licking up in the foreground.
    The huts were partially ablaze, the floorboards and railings pitted with fire. The painting smacked against the concrete and he could smell smoke.
    "Trajan! Anybody! Help! Get me out of here!"
    River squinted, trying to find the source of the sound. He guessed it was coming from one of the huts, but wasn't sure. Bodies lay scattered amid the fires, charcoal black. Any one of them could be still alive. It was hard to tell through the flames.
    He closed his eyes against the smoke and turned his mind inward. All my power is needed here, he thought. All the power of the sea and sky.
    His hands, then his whole body, began to glow with blue-green light. In the name of Zepher, my father, bring forth the power of the ocean storm. Let the rain fall over these flames, that they may cease their fury. Let the wind rise up through this smoke, that it may disperse.
    Nothing happened. The budgie shook her head and smiled.
    Damien shot her a frustrated glare.
    Without a word, she marched up to the painting and raised her palm, blowing on it.
    A cloud of ice showered outwards into the fire, which converted the crystals into steam and precipitation.
    She kept blowing, as if she were a machine rather than a creature with lungs. The fire surrounding the frame fizzled and went out.
    "Here." The budgie handed him a large red fire extinguisher. "This is an anachronism with a built in plot hole. Take it with you and use it to extinguish the flames."
    "I have no idea what you just said," the otter replied, taking hold of the strange object. "But I do know that you know what you're talking about. Just tell me how to use this."
    "It's not difficult." He picked it up to demonstrate. "Just aim the nozzle, pull the pin, and squeeze the handle, like so." She pointed the hose at the painting, clenching the `beak' above the gauge. It didn't spray because the pin was in.
    Damien frowned. "Another question. How can you summon an ice cloud when my ocean powers didn't even leave my body?"
    "Association doesn't always mean causation. I didn't summon anything. Quaro grants me great power. Your powers also come from Quaro, so calling upon your ancestors will do no good." She handed him the fire extinguisher. "This may not seem like much, but you can use its plot hole to your advantage."
    Hefting the heavy fire extinguisher, the otter stepped through the painting, searching for the source of the cries.
    The budgie had doused the fires in a large swath surrounding the painting (which he incidentally could no longer see).
    It appeared he was in a lower level of the Roost, somewhere below the central platform. The remains of a long rope bridge hung on either side of balconies above him, lit up like Roman candles. He could just barely see the area where the place he'd been taken on to his first night there.
    "Help! Someone!"
    River saw a rabbit chained to a tree. The fires around him had been extinguished, but he was still chained and unable to free himself. Damien marched up to him, examining the bonds.
    "Thank Quaro!" cried the rabbit. "I thought I was going to be Nauga roast!" He wiggled, struggling against the chains. "You've got to get me out of here. Find something. Anything!"
    "Tell me you sweated under that heat," the otter said. "And tell me there's something left of that water."
    "I'm not a well," said the rabbit. "If you want water, you'd best go down to the river. I doubt there's a drinkable thing in this whole place, unless you count jogetberry wine. And those casks probably look like bonfires right now. Now, would you mind freeing me before you go about slaking your thirst? I'll even join you for a sip if you get these chains off."
    "That's what I'm trying to do." Damien shook his head, staring at the puddles of water near where the painting was.
    The rabbit muttered something about drinking sweat, shaking his head.
    Damien chanted in an ancient tongue, waving a paw over a puddle. The water floated up, forming into a ball that bobbed and wriggled in the air like liquid dumped out in zero gravity. He moved to another puddle, and another, until the ball became larger. A fine mist of water particles rose up from the boards, gravitating toward the object, causing it to expand.
    Coughing and sneezing, the otter formed it into the shape of a snake, carrying it over to the captive. He chanted, squeezing the water into a tapered point.
    A pencil thin pressurized spray of water shot out, hitting the rabbit's chains like a sand blaster. As the water cut deeper, the first iron link chipped and broke off like it had been hit by an axe. The metal crumbled, falling away. He cut through a link on the second chain, then one on a third, and the rabbit's bonds fell off.
    "Thanks!" He shook the otter's paw vigorously. "I don't know what's going on. I just went out behind the building to have a smoke and somehow I ended up here." He shook his head and sighed. "I didn't see this in my contract. Does this have anything to do with the historical reinactment guild?...Did you get that thing from the scene shop?"
    Damien heard screaming somewhere nearby.
    Scene shop? The otter shook his head. "Whatever you may be thinking, this fire is very real. If you can help at all, do so. If not, run. Now."
    "I know the flames are real. I figured someone botched a pyrotechnics display." He shrugged. "Help, you said? What do you want me to do? I normally have stunt men to do the dangerous scenes, but I'm willing to method act if you think it'll make the scene better. I know how you directors like realism." He paused. "How long is Luke going to be gone?"
    The otter twisted his lip. "Luke?"
    "Stop kiddin' around. I know he said he'd let you do a couple scenes while his wife's in the hospital, but..."
    Damien grabbed the rabbit roughly by the shoulders and glared into his eyes. "Listen to me. This fire is out of control, and there is no-one to help us. So grab some water, or dirt, or sand, or something, and use it. Now."
    "Are you using that fire extinguisher?"
    "You know it; you can have it." Handing over the extinguisher, Damien collected the water he'd used and reformed the ball around his arm, freezing it in place to carry with him.
    "Right," said the rabbit. "Method act. Method act." He picked up the extinguisher. "I can't believe this was allowed in the script. It's a complete anachronism."
    Damien heard a scream. He turned, searching the area carefully.
    "I think it was coming from over there," the rabbit said, pointing to a platform across a wood bridge.
    The bridge itself was burning in places, with parts of its railing lit and ready to catch. Damien watched as the rabbit hefted the fire extinguisher to the edge, where a small bonfire had started. He pulled the pin on the device, squeezing the beak.
    A powerful blast of foam shot out in a cloud. The force of it knocked him backwards.
    The otter marched up to the bridge, staring at it. The bonfire was out, along with all the other small flames within the surrounding one yard area.
    The rabbit brushed himself and got up. He leaned over the edge of the platform, staring down. "They're expecting us to do this stunt without a net! This wasn't in the contract!"
    "Stunt?"
    "Oh like you didn't know. This is the same exact rig they had in Bone Hunter. You go halfway on the bridge, and it collapses! Gotta hang on for dear life to whatever little notches or footbars they got on the underside, and pray the director doesn't want to reshoot. We're supposed to have a net!"
    "I'm sorry," said Epin. "I still don't follow you."
    "Har har. Nice staying in character. Look. Remember that scene in Bone Hunter where there's these tribesmen that trap Scruffy on the bridge? And he sets fire to it and all the bad guys go plunging into the river full of piranha?"
    "Um..."
    "Never mind. Forget it. You guys are incorrigible. All I'm saying is, chances are one in twenty that that bridge collapses while we're going over it. I'd say tie yourself on with something, but it's not even a rope bridge."
    "Do you have any better ideas?"
    "As a matter of fact, I do. The props department should have a zip cord hooked up around here, with a chair and a rig for carrying equipment." He searched around a nearby tree, staring up into the branches. "There." He pointed up. "It looks funny, but that's probably it."
    Damien looked up and saw a long rope extending across the gap, with a pair of crude wooden handlebars hooked onto a platform at their end. The platform looked like one of those tree stands that hunters use. A set of pine handholds had been nailed on the side of the tree to allow for climbing. He stared at the handlebars, then at the platform attached to a tree at the other end.
    "Uh, I don't know, mate. This don't rightly look any safer than the other way. It's just a rope." He glanced at Damien.
    "Oh, for pity's sake." Charging his ice power, Damien walked toward the edge of the bridge. "Where is it meant to break, exactly?"
    "Honestly, I don't know where the weak points are. Like I said, it's not rope. If it's going straight across and all wood, it could break anywhere. But I guess I can follow you and make some suggestions if I notice anything, if I have to. You sure you don't want to use the zip cord?"
    Damien shook his head.
    He suddenly broke into a sneezing fit.
    "Are you okay?"
    The otter nodded. "I'm fine. Let's go."
    Epin stopped to gnaw at his arm before following. "Blasted bugs!" he muttered.
    The structure seemed steady enough. Damien made it to the halfway point before he encountered fire. The rabbit followed slowly behind him, his nervousness obvious to anyone looking his way.
    The otter blasted a fire with the ball of moisture he carried, freezing that section of the bridge for good measure. He doused another, and another. The rabbit seemed too nervous to do any fire fighting on his own, so he was unhelpful.
    Epin tapped him on the shoulder. "Say, if you're not gonna put out any fires with that thing, can I give it a go?"
    With a shrug, the rabbit handed him the extinguisher, and Epin lugged it over to a flame.
    He gave the beak a squeeze and a huge blast of foam came out, throwing him backwards.
    Pow! The platypus slammed into the railing, knocking the boards and support poles loose.
    The bridge let out an unpleasant groaning sound.
    "That...doesn't sound good," the rabbit muttered.
    "No," said Damien. "Not particularly."
    With a string of colorful invectives, the platypus brushed himself off and got to his feet. He picked up the extinguisher, heading down the bridge. "You're green," he muttered to the otter as he passed.
    Damien looked at his paws and noticed they were indeed a bit green. He frowned.
    "Let's keep moving, then," said Epin. "I don't reckon it'll get any safer if we just stand here."
    Damien nodded, hurrying down the planks. He put out two more fires before arriving at a raging bonfire.
    The platypus lugged the extinguisher up to the burning platform, giving the beak the slightest squeeze he could muster. He wasn't bowled over this time. A white cloud settled on the fire, and it was out. The two settled on the platform beyond.
    Crack. Damien looked back at the bridge. The rabbit stood frozen motionless near the middle, eyes darting back and forth wildly.The next moment, the bridge buckled in the middle, collapsing inward. The rabbit screamed, which sounded really weird by default.
    Damien stared at the critter scrambling to grab the planks and railing, hoping it wasn't completely helpless.
    "Doctor Bones!" the rabbit cried. "Doctor bones! Help! Grip! Tony! Jax!" He clawed his way up the rapidly descending boards, jabbering incoherently about contract re-negotiations and the fire department.
    As he got within a foot of the platform, the bridge broke away in one piece. With a cry of "Damn you, Lee Strasberg!" he took a great bunny hop ahead. His claws dug into the platform just as the bridge fell away, crashing into the forest below.
    Damien offered a paw, and he was back up on the platform, looking rather shaky. "Do I feel safe?" He gasped. "Do I feel safe?"
    "Poor bugger," Epin muttered. He cleared more flames from the area, looking around.
    Damien saw movement toward the end of the platform. In between the flames, he could see a yellow parakeet kicking and screaming as a group of Huruts dragged it toward a rope elevator.
    "May I?" Grabbing hold of the fire extinguisher, he pointed it at the flames and squeezed the beak carefully, as he had seen Epin do.
    Even with slight pressure, the force of the spray caused the otter to reel backwards. Fortunately, he didn't hit anything or fall backwards. The foam extinguished the entire area ahead of him, leaving the way free to pursue the captive.
    Unfortunately, the Huruts were already in the "elevator" and turning the crank.
    Coughing, the otter set down the heavy extinguisher, running after the parakeet.
    He used a spell to puff out a flame, and he was at the elevator right as it dropped below the platform.
    He looked down. The elevator was basically a wooden cage with a wooden roof. He grabbed the rope, dropping down on the wood. He felt an itching sensation work its way through his fur, but he tried to ignore it.
    He heard growling sounds. Splotchy green clawed hands reached up at him from below, attempting to grab him.
    The otter blurted out a small incantation. A blast of wind knocked the Hurut claws away, causing them to roar angrily.
    He heard sawing sounds, like a blade slicing through something thick and unyielding. The cage shook as it descended.
    As it reached the lower platform, Damien heard a snap, and the rope hit him in the face.
    A second rope snapped apart across the roof.
    He saw the Huruts jump out, and the cage went into free fall.
    The otter jumped off the elevator, chasing the Huruts into the platform. Behind him, he could hear the elevator whistling as it tumbled to the ground.
    He chased the beasts into a corner between a wall of flame and a missing section of floor.
    The six monsters turned around to face him, growling menacingly.
    He backed up, his mind sorting through possible plans.
    Just then, a black winged figure landed next to him, flashing a feral grin. "Looks like my kind of party."
    "You're welcome to join in if you like," the otter replied. "My name's Damien."
    "Call me Nightshade." The hybrid extended his claws. "And thank you, I will."
    One of the Huruts leaned over the edge of the platform, letting out a loud growling sound.
    A pair of their allies, this time with wings, swooped down on the platform.
    He waved hands and muttered, summoning the water molecules around himself.
    "D'you do that often?" the hybrid asked, looking surprised.
    "Only when there's water about to work with." The otter grimaced slightly, but kept moving his hands as the mist compacted itself around him. "Not so much around here."
    One of the Huruts in the lead, one without wings, charged at him.
    No! Not now! He still hadn't gathered enough to create a storm.
    The winged creature himself claws first at the charging beast's neck.
    As his claws ripped into the rough hide of the one in front, someone hit him in the side of his stomach, causing him to double over, and he was punched in the face.
    He spun one full circle and gave the opponent a severe clawing from the other side.
    When the Hurut turned to face him, the hybrid tripped him and threw him into the fire. The creature screamed in agony, then, to escape the flames, stumbled and fell to the forest below. A Hurut with the face of a bulldog caught a corner of his wing, pulling him into the fire.
    Nightshade let out a cry of outrage as the flames scorched his clothing and set his fur on fire. The next moment, he was throwing the Hurut off the platform.
    Abandoning his attempt at collecting water, the otter readied himself to call on the wind to protect him.
    However, he realized that one wrong move could possibly knock the bat creature and the hostage off the platform along with his target.
    Accelerating the air around his lower body, Damien launched himself into the air with the aid of a small, tornado force wind current rising beneath his feet.
    He almost hit his head on the platform that served as the ceiling, but a careful gesture stopped his ascent.
    He reversed the wind to accelerate himself, then steered himself toward the nearest Hurut, attempting to let himself fall feet first on top of the nearest unladen foe.
    Unfortunately, the Hurut noticed and darted out of the way.
    The one behind him, however, wasn't as bright. The otter slammed into him, and he fell backwards into the fire.
    Damien quickly hopped out of the fire just as something snapped and the creature went falling below.
    Before he could properly react, one of the winged beasts grabbed him, and he was being flown through the fire and then several feet above the ground.
    The first thing that came to the otter's mind was to cast the spell of Air Hammer. Once he had managed to utter the magic words, his fists lit up with energy, and he started wailing away at the winged beast.
    The dose of speed and the close proximity helped. His punches made contact, and with such force that it knocked the Hurut unconscious.
    Unfortunately, it hadn't let go of him, and he ended up falling through the air with basically a large weight attached to his midsection. He tried to pry the arms apart, but they were too strong.
    The otter tried to wiggle loose, figuring that the creature's muscles would relax due to it being unconscious. However, the thing had actually fallen into a sort of rigor. He summoned an updraft to slow his fall, fighting against the creature's grip with greater urgency.
    With a considerable amount of effort, the otter squeezed himself out of the Hurut's clutches and climbed up on its shoulders.
    Seeing the platform rushing up on one side of him, he cast a wind spell and jumped that way.
    A small tornado appeared in the air, swirling up to meet him. The whirlwind lifted him, carrying him over to the nearest platform.
    He sneezed and the wind went away and he landed hard on the wood floor.
    "Damien!" The platypus came running to him, his beak betraying his worriment. "I thought those things got you! Are you all right?"
    "Clearly you've forgotten... the depths of the... power I wield," the otter joked, using short bursts of wind magic to help fill his lungs. "It will take a lot more... than that to finish me off."
    Epin put his flippers on his hips. "Well, looks like things are settled around here. I saw some folks at the other end putting out fires. I just spoke to an owl who told me everybody has been rescued. How about we go down below and catch some grub?"
    He then leaned over the rail and puked.
    "On second thought, maybe not. I think I just caught something." He wiped his beak and said, "Anyway, let's go down and get some fresh air."
    The rabbit came up to them, lugging the extinguisher behind him.
    He lifted the heavy object, pointing at it. "I think I found what the plot hole is. I've been spraying this everywhere, and the gauge still says full."
    "That is very strange," Damien said. "I have seen many magics, but everyone knows that no mortal-made item could possibly hold an infinite supply of power. A tool of this size could hold enough energy for a week's worth of use, but even then, it should be half-depleted at least, if you have expended as much as you say. What manner of sorcery makes this any different?"
    The rabbit shrugged. "My guess is the gauge is broken, but it's only a guess."
    "Right, right," said Epin. "That's blooming amazing. Now let's go down and get us some fresh air."
    "I couldn't agree more," the otter said. Raising his hands, he called forth a light wind, hoping that the open airflow would dissipate the smoke as they moved.
    The smoke cleared, and he looked around for a way down.
    Having no elevator or rope, he eyed a series of boards nailed to one of the trees with thoughtfulness. They looked usable, but not one hundred percent safe.
    The otter climbed down, with Epin and the rabbit trailing behind. The rungs didn't break off, though one was a bit loose.
    They reached the ground, rested a bit, then searched the woods for friendly animals.
    He noticed movement in the brush. An orangutan came out, waving at them.
    "Hello!" it said. "Want to come help put out these fires?"
    "I've had enough of that," Epin said with a cough. "What do you say, Damien?"
    The otter shrugged and agreed to help. Epin grudgingly went along with it, as did the rabbit.
    He spent the next hours carrying buckets up to the bucket brigade and using his powers to put out the flames on a few platforms. Once their duties were concluded, a bat set up a bonfire for them, and they soon were being offered a dinner of fish and a gamey meat called `mince.'
    Damien chose mince, for obvious reasons. Once fed, he and the other animals told each other stories until, one by one, they nodded off.
    When he awoke, he was not himself. He felt like he were dreaming.
    He saw himself becoming more and more green, coated with a nasty scaly substance. An unseen force called to him, and he went wandering through the woods, against his own will.
    Epin tried to stop him, and so he cast a wind spell and knocked him against a tree, where he fell unconscious.
    A Hurut mounted on a great spider beast beckoned to him, and he climbed up.
    The spider carried him through the forest at lightning speed, then across hills and into a valley filled with loathesome creatures.
    He saw himself scaling the rocky cliff on his spider, joined by other members of his team. They reached a plateau with a castle, and they were attacked by rock lizards and chipmunks and Tasmanian devils with shields and armor and catapaults. Fireballs and arrows rained down, but the evil power took over, and Damien watched himself blast the army with wind and furious jets of water, which hurled a number of them over the cliffs. The ones who remained ended up bludgeoned by Huruts, captured, or fleeing for their lives.
    He entered the courtyard of a green-gray castle of stone and marble, then, with a surprising amount of power, he called forth a storm that brought the entire building to rubble.
    He blacked out after that.
    ***
    The hybrid awoke to see himself surrounded by a glowing bright light. Things came into focus and he saw Cordero kneeling in front of him, one glowing hoof hand pressed against his chest. The armor had apparently been removed while he was unconscious.
    The sheep looked badly injured, his still unclothed body bleeding from cuts and wounds all over his body, the blood crusted and matted on his wooly pelt.
    Nightshade saw he was in a cave, surrounded by dark figures, the only light coming from the sheep. He tried to breathe in, but it was difficult because his chest tingled unpleasantly.
    The sheep coughed up blood, then spat. Something metal clinked on the floor. He wiped his mouth and stood up, brushing himself off.
    "You can let these go. Your grudge is against me."
    "That will be Catalini's decision," said a reptilian sounding voice.
    "Catalioni!" the cat corrected.
    "Whatever," the other one snapped. "We have things to discuss."
    The two walked away.
    The hybrid tried to get up and follow, but his muscles felt too weak. He sat back down the moment he got up.
    "Nightshade?" he heard a female voice saying.
    He couldn't see much in the dark, but she didn't sound like she were in much pain.
    "I'm here." He let out a thick cough. "Are you okay?"
    "Okay enough. How about you?"
    "The sheep healed my wounds. I'm fine."
    He suddenly heard a strange strangled cry. It sounded like Melissa were doing an impression of a monster, but taking it too seriously.
    "Melissa! Stop!"
    "What?" Her tone indicated it was a sincere question.
    "Nothing."
    She fell silent.
    He heard the Lumpy Gravy song again.
    "That damn phone!"
    He heard her digging in a pouch, then saw a blue object light up her face.
    "Hello?...Yes. Uh-huh." She frowned. "I don't have my credit card! No! No checks." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Look! It's not like I have them memorized! Look, just get me out of here and I'll pay the entire balance! I'll empty the bank account! Anything! Just get me out of this place!...You can call me, so you can get me out of here! It only makes sense!...Look. I really don't have time to hold. Last time I held for someone, they got disconnected. And this really isn't the best time."
    Nightshade heard elevator music playing.
    Melissa sighed, closing the phone. "Are your hands free?"
    Nightshade lifted his paws. "Yes."
    "Do you have sonar or anything?"
    "Yeah."
    "Let's get out of here, then."
    As he was forcing himself to his feet, he heard the sound of something wooden hitting stone.
    The room flooded with sickly green light. Nightshade looked up and saw Catalioni dressed in a royal robe and crown. In one hand he clutched a wooden staff with a glowing crystal at the top. On the other paw he wore a blocky looking white glove with black detailing and buttons on it.
    "Don't leave yet, the party's just getting started!"
    With a growl, Nightshade gathered his strength and charged at the cat.
    Catalioni held up a gloved hand. The next moment, the hybrid was on the floor, puking his guts out.
    "The Power Glove," Catalioni grinned. He whistled the opening bars to the Super Mario game.
    Nightshade saw him leering at him, but felt too drained to move.
    "You're probably wondering why Sweater King wasn't able to get rid of that nasty hacking cough, or that fever, or, you know." He shrugged. "He's a weakling that can spit bullets."
    He clenched his gloved fist and Nightshade doubled over in pain.
    "You're infected with a disease. So is everyone in and around this cave." He put a gloved finger to his chin. "Hmmm...I wonder where those nasty goblins come from." With a look of mock surprise, he said, "You think this disease has something to do with them? Maybe that (gasp!) black slime that's in the river?" Mock frown. "Nah! It couldn't be, could it?"
    His joking manner abruptly dropped. He raised the staff, waving it at the crowd of misshapen figures surrounding them. "How many of them have you killed."
    Nightshade didn't respond. He broke into a coughing fit.
    "Let me guess. `A whole lot.'
    The cat leaned in close, almost to the point where his muzzle was touching Nightshade's.
    Nightshade tried to attack, but Catalioni waved the glove and he ended up flat on the floor.
    "Just think of how many grandmothers, wives, parents you murdered."
    "That's the way of the wilds, though, isn't it?" Nightshade asked, his voice calm. "Predators kill prey to eat. Doesn't matter what else the prey might be. The predator only knows that it's hungry, and that there's food to be had. Sometimes, the prey fights back, ends up killing the predator instead."
    The cat furrowed his brow. "Does this have something to do with me? Or are you just trying to bore me to death?"
    Ignoring him, Nightshade continued. "It doesn't matter if the predator had a mate, or cubs; the prey only knows that it fought for its life, and won. It all boils down to one simple truth, known by predator and prey alike: You kill... or you die."
    He raised his head to look Catalioni square in the eyes. "And I'm not about to let anyone choose how I die," he snarled, his voice hard.
    "Oooooh," the cat mocked.
    Nightshade bared his fangs and growled, spreading his claws. He raised his arm to strike, but Catalioni flexed his finger and he ended up getting sidetracked by a splitting headache.
    "If this glove were more precise, I'd figure out a way to attack the part of your brain that causes you to lecture about boring subjects."
    "I killed those Huruts because they would've killed me," Nightshade said. "I didn't assume that; I knew it. What did the Gaku do to you that made it worth killing them?"
    The cat looked around himself, acting like Nightshade were talking to someone else. He pointed to his chest, as if to say, `Who, me?'
    "I saw you. You sent in your thugs and torched the place."
    "Oh!" Catalioni laughed. "The property acquisition!" With a matter-of-fact tone, he added, "I'm building a casino there. I asked them to leave the premises several times. Nicely, I might add. But wouldn't you know it? They wouldn't listen. Pffft." He shrugged. "What do you do." He idly grabbed one of the hybrid's wings, extending it. He let go. "You see, it's ideal property. Right off the river, close to major roads, idyllic scenery..."
    Nightshade growled angrily.
    "I got big plans for this place! First I'm going to get someone to invent the automobile so I can get myself a fatass limo with gold rims. Then I'm going to build casinos..." He spread his arms expansively. "As far as the eye can see! (Actually, outside. This cave smells.) I'll get some breweries going, figure out where all the mind altering substances are, and start a cottage industry. Pretty sure I'll get some good residuals off of that. Anyways, I've got a great labor force so it's going to be a cake walk." He raised his gloved hand, making the shape of a claw.
    Nightshade let out an agonized growl as pain shot through his body. He felt himself jerk to his feet.
    "Which is the real reason I'm giving this lecture. I'm thinking out loud, trying to figure out what to do with you. You're not exactly a pack mule or a dumb thug, but you're not exactly a genius, either." He glanced around the cavern a minute. "To hell with it. I'll just make you fight your girlfriend."
    The cat set his staff against a wall, making puppeteering gestures with his paws.
    Nightshade felt an evil sort of energy coursing through his body. Less weak, but twice as ill.
    Without willing to, both Nightshade and Melissa found themselves marching up to each other with their fists clenched.
    The puppeteer moved his paws, and Nightshade hit the mink in the face with the back of his green fist.
    "Nightshade!" Melissa cried. "You don't have to do this!"
    "Oh yeah?" said the cat.
    A feminine looking monster claw raked across the hybrid's face, drawing blood. Nightshade shoved her to the ground.
    "Nightshade," she said with a stern expression. "We are stronger than this! This guy might have some kind of magic power over us, but true love is stronger-" She punched herself in the face.
    "Sorry." The cat shook his head. "I had to do that. That was really dumb. You really don't understand what this disease does to animals."
    Melissa turned her head, snarling at Catalioni. The cat just waved his paws and her head snapped back to glare at Nightshade.
    Her face was green now, her eyes changing to a nasty oil black color.
    Feeling an unknown rage build up inside him, Nightshade hit her in the head and kicked her. He felt disgusted at himself, but he'd lost control of his body. His warty, blister covered claws struck at Melissa, who in turn roared and attacked him with surprising force.
    "Now you're playing with power," the cat remarked dryly.
    Nightshade heard Lumpy Gravy playing.
    "What's that?" said the cat.
    The two stopped in mid-fight.
    Catalioni grabbed the glowing staff, strolling around the cave, looking for the sound.
    Nightshade, finding he had mobility, attempted to run at Catalioni and attack, but the cat raised the glove and the hybrid found himself lying on his back again.
    The cat grabbed a pouch off the floor, taking out a small silver object. He opened it, pushing a button. After listening to it for a moment, he said, "Yes, yes. She's right here." He handed it to Melissa. "Here. It's for you."
    She stared at the phone, then took it with a bewildered stare. "Hello?...I already told you guys once! I losy my credit card, I don't have my purse, ergo no check book, but if you'd get me out of here, I'd be happy to give you everything in the bank-" The elevator music began.
    She let out a bestial scream, throwing the phone at the wall. The casing shattered, its innards fragmented to useless pieces.
    "Well, back to business..."
    The cat clapped his paws and the mink slammed her body into the hybrid, knocking him backwards.
    The hybrid recovered quickly, deflecting a flurry of her punches.
    He slammed the mink's head into a stalactite and she fell to the floor unconscious.
    "Oops," Catalioni said with a fake pout. "Too bad!"
    Nightshade let out a gutteral roar, then staggered backward as he broke into a coughing fit.
    "Not to worry. That should clear up once the disease takes full effect."
    "Why aren't you sick!" Nightshade growled, fighting to retain his thought processes.
    The cat shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I'm immune or something. Of course, I am ballin', even in terms of medieval-esque currency, so I don't have to eat poisonous crap." With a wistful expression, he added, "I think...my last dinner was a sort of bird, imported from...some...place on the other side of the globe. It's not important, really. What's important is that it tasted good and I didn't get sick." He flicked a whisker. "Maybe I could make you a general sargeant third in command or something. Not too high on the totem pole, but not a complete waste of talent, either."
    Nightshade hit himself in the face. Several times.
    "That was satisfying."
    Nightshade rammed his head into a rock wall and blacked out.
    When he awoke again, he was standing in a huge cavern, amid a crowd of Huruts. The center of the cave held a large lake, whose streams rushed out through a mouth at one end of the cave.
    At the opposite end of the cave, at the foot of a waterfall, a monstrous green-gray thing covered in slime and tentacles sat on a rock, damming the stream of water to a narrow channel with its immense girth. Scores of baleful red eyes covered its surface, eyes that seemed to flick back and forth and glare at the room's inhabitants. Clouds of black smoke puffed out from holes in its back while its jellyfish body pumped out gallons of black slime from scaly, crusty orifices in its lower body. A beautiful waterfall mucked up and clouded by a seemingly endless supply of ooze. It reminded Nightshade of the illegal drainage pumps he'd seen on factories in his old neighborhood.
    Before he knew what was happening, someone shoved Cordero in front of him.
    "Take him to Lord Mokuhai."
    Still lacking control, he saw his arms grab the sheep, and he was pushing him forcefully through the cave, through crowds of Huruts, and up an inclined path in a dark tunnel.
    "I forgive you," said the sheep.
    Nightshade didn't respond. As if following an unseen road map, he pushed the sheep forward, up the incline. The tunnel narrowed, then opened to a smaller chamber, lit by torches, with a stream flowing through it.
    A horned creature in royal robes and a crown sat on a throne of rock carved with skulls and deformed faces. All around him stood Huruts armed with various sharp, finely crafted weapons.
    Nightshade pushed the sheep forward, up to the creature's throne.
    "So this is the proud ruler that keeps attacking our armies." The creature's voice was cold, with a rattling mucusy sound.
    Its eyes met Nighshade's. "Make him kneel."
    Without thinking, Nighshade shoved Cordero to the floor.
    "That's better."
    The creature marched forward, squatting down to look him in the eyes. "Not so proud now, are we?"
    Cordero said nothing.
    "I burned down your `Roost.' I destroyed your best warriors. I infected the others with The Vision. You've lost." He pulled the sheep's head back by the wool, turning his head for him. "Look around you! All of them were once your warriors. Now look at them!"
    Nightshade looked around. He recognized those beaks. Owls. He saw a Hurut shaped a squirrel, and a rabbit.
    "They've all caught The Vision!"
    "They have no vision," said Cordero. "They're all blind."
    "Ooooh!" Mokuhai tugged on Cordero's wool until a pained expression appeared on his features. "Blind or not, they're mine now."
    "Then you have become blind as well."
    "The blind calls others sightless! You are a fool!" Mokuhai shoved Cordero's head down violently. "No matter. You will drink the sepofe until you receive The Vision and lead my armies."
    "I will not."
    Mokuhai pulled on his head again. "You will. And you'll like it." He waved to Cephas, who brought out a large stone vase from beside the throne. Mokuhai grabbed a silver goblet from a stone table, and the Hurut-owl poured black liquid into the cup. Nightshade shuddered as he saw the liquid spilling over the evil eye engraved on the side.
    Mokuhai brought the cup up to the sheep's face. "You will drink this."
    Cordero turned his head away.
    Mokuhai followed his head with it, but Nightshade saw the cup spill on the floor.
    The next moment, Nightshade saw Mokuhai slamming his fist into the sheep's face. He felt anger boil within him, but the beastly part of himself refused to move. He felt the corners of his green face curling into a grin.
    Mokuhai ordered a couple thugs to hold his victim's head back, and he poured the liquid in.
    Cordero sputtered and gagged at first, but it went down, and the creature king worked the sheep's jaw like he were giving a dog a de-wormer.
    The sheep swallowed, then silently stared at the horned beast.
    The two stared at each other for several minutes.
    "Nothing?"
    Cordero lifted his head, saying nothing.
    "Boss," said Catalioni. "He must be immune."
    Suddenly Mokuhai let out a frustrated roar, lifting Cordero to his feet by the wool on his neck. "You're going to serve me, one way or another!"
    He dragged Cordero over to his throne, grabbing something glistening and sharp from the stone table. "If you can't serve me alive, you can serve as food for the Damat!"
    And so he dragged Cordero across the room, to the side of the stream.
    Somewhere along the trip, Cordero somehow slid free from his grip, but he only stood there, not doing anything.
    BANG! The cat shot him in the back.
    The sheep fell to the floor.
    Mokuhai didn't look pleased, but only gestured to the brutes.
    The sheep was dragged out into the shallows, where the evil king stood, blade ready.
    Nightshade followed them.
    He saw the glint of light as Mokuhai raised the blade, then the creature said something in a strange language, burying the weapon into the sheep's chest. He shoved it in deep, twisting it back and forth, until Cordero coughed up blood and fell limp.
    Nighshade saw the red streams diffusing in the water, feeling a sinking in the pit of his stomach.
    Mokuhai kicked him in the gut. No response. He cocked a thumb at the waterfall.
    The next moment, Nightshade saw the thugs casually tossing the lamb over the edge like so much garbage. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't.
    Well, he thought bitterly. Now I have his blood. When he noticed he didn't feel any different, he felt even worse.
    Compelled by curiosity, Nightshade waded to the edge of the waterfall, staring down.
    Below, he saw the ooze monster, with its tentacles wrapped around something.
    It moved, and he could see it engulfing a pair of hooves.
    It swallowed them up, and Cordero was no more.
    "You!" said a voice behind him. Nightshade turned around and faced the cat.
    "Gather you group together. I want you to capture the Mudepa tribe. Bring them back here alive so we can give them The Vision and feed a few of them to the Damat. Don't go crazy and kill them. Take the Paje bolos and Hukem company and bring them back alive. The Damat likes fresh game."
    "How do I find this place?"
    "Your amphibian friend is in the cave below. The Ridaks in Hukem are skilled riders and wing men. You should be able to take them quickly."
    Nightshade nodded, gesturing to Melissa and the owls. he led the group through the tunnel, down to the lake, where the hideous blob sat bloated and unphased by everything that just happened.
    He looked around, and there were his allies. A Hurut frog with pale skin and a skull-like visage. A hulking green and polka dotted scaly beast with a gorilla face. A gray-green rodent with warty ears and red eyes. A youthful avian Hurut with something like moss covering his body. The Hurut mink. A green-gray human boy with magically animated teddy bears. A duck with a Zorro mask. He made signs to them, and the group obediently marched out of the cave, out to a field where felinoid Huruts guarded black and purple red eyed spiders thesize of horses.
    Wordlessly, these Huruts untethered the arachnids, and Nightshade's team mounted up.
    Nightshade took wing, following Dreamcloud as he rode his bug out of the valley and over a hill.
    The spiders turned out to be surprisingly quick, as fast or faster than a horse or Kahodi. They crossed through an entire forest, a swamp, and a vast meadow in the course of only a few short hours.
    Nightshade flapped his wings, keeping pace behind them, watching as they crested a burial mound, descending on a valley containing a small collection of tipis, Kahodi and farm land.
    He heard a shout, and a group of animals burst out of the tents, firing volleys of arrows at Nightshade's team. Bongo plucked a couple out of his hide, behaving like he didn't even feel them. But the arrows killed two of the cat Huruts, and a lop eared Hurut with bunny teeth.
    Nateela hurled a bolo, knocking down a young canine.
    An iguana ran to help him and also got knocked down.
    Two of the Hurut owls flew down, hog tying them while the others threw more bolos.
    Bongo simply punched a female frog and a red panda unconscious and threw them over the back of a spider, unphased by the arrows puncturing his skin.
    Suddenly a white-gray shape dropped in front of Nightshade. "What are you doing!" the owl shouted. "What's wrong with you!"
    Without a thought, he batted Amo out of the way, and two winged Huruts carried her off.
    Soon half the tribe was either tied up or unconscious, slung over the backs of spiders, or being carried away by winged Huruts. Nightshade himself had a small female saurian in his arms, her pointy back plates chafing unpleasantly against him as he flew.
    About halfway through the meadow, the human boy fell under attack. Nightshade watched as he fell over with an arrow in his chest, a frilled lizard and a chihuaha grabbing a captive turtle, carrying it away.
    The Nateela ended up killing it, and they got the captive back.
    With increased haste, Hukem company rushed through the swamp, into the forest, its gnarled, forboding trees seeming to scowl at them as they went through.
    Upon reaching the end of the forest, two large chinchillas on fast Kahodi had caught up with them, knocking the koala-Hurut and the Hurut-dog off their rides with arrows and spears. Melissa and the Zorro duck were wounded.
    A gazelle was momentarily captured, but the cat-Hurut killed both the riders, and they got it back, continuing on.
    Nightshade's group crossed into the valley on the outskirts of camp, and reinforcements took care of the Mudepa hunters that followed.
    Nightshade watched as the beasts carried away the prisoners, becoming more and more disgusted at himself as they draw nearer and nearer to the cave. At least they hadn't killed that many. But it wasn't a great comfort.
    He followed them in, feeling worse as he saw them being dumped on the floor, tied up with rope, and force fed the black glop.
    All of a sudden, he felt a severe pain in his skull, like he were having a migraine headache.
    As he was clutching his temples, he noticed everyone else clutching their temples, too.
    He looked up at the waterfall. The bloated sludge monster, once intimidating as it complacently poured out slime, now had all its tentacles drawn back in recoil, looking much like a daddy longlegs under a lit match.
    It let out a nasty bellowing howl, then exploded in a spray of blue liquid.
    Trajan slumped to the floor like a limp rag doll. Everyone else in the cave followed suit. They fell wherever they stood, some in the water, some falling headlong over the waterfall. Then Nightshade himself found himself falling, where he lay on the cave floor, unable to move. And there he lay for several minutes.
    He stared helplessly at the pile of bodies, paralyzed, wondering if he were dead.
    After lying there a bit longer, he saw something move. Someone was moving around in the dark, pouring something in the immobilized Hurut mouths.
    He sighed, watching as the others gagged, let out surprised shouts, and sat up, scratching and peeling something off their bodies.
    And then he saw a glowing figure kneeling in front of him. A pair of hoof-like hands held the a goblet up to his mouth, an engraved silver goblet with an eye on it. He felt something warm pouring into his mouth, burning his throat on the way down.
    He sputtered, coughed, and rolled over.
    Once he'd laid there for a few more moments, he found energy coursing through his body, and he could move all his muscles again. He pushed himself off the ground and sat up, stretching his arms and wings.
    He felt like he'd never been injured. Ever. As his wings unfurled, green scales flew off like water being shaken from an umbrella. He scratched an itchy green arm and more scales peeled off, revealing a clean, oddly well groomed coat of silky black fur. Wanting to remove every trace of the curse from his person, he kept going, he kept going, his speed increasing to a frantic pace.
    After finishing with his torso, he considered doing the rest, below his waist, but he wasn't alone.
    He looked back at the figure that had handed him the cup. It now looked squatter, less wooly, with whiskers, large, velvety ears, and rodent teeth. He squinted at Templeton with a look of disbelief. The rat's gray coat almost glowed with its cleanliness.
    He saw Nateela was in good health, and the chick owl stood next to her, with his gray coat bright and shiny.
    He watched as the gorilla scratched himself and shook like a dog, becoming less and less goblin-like with every shake. When done, he was not only back to normal, but handsome for a gorilla.
    Some distance away, he noticed Dreamcloud. The frog's face no longer looked like a skull. In fact, it lacked the weathered, wrinkly appearance it once had.
    Feeling something tapping on his shoulder, Nightshade looked and saw the mink, who had similarly recovered, her coat now a brilliant white and seemingly manicured. "What's going on here? What happened?"
    Nightshade sighed as he looked at the mink. "No more excuses, Melissa," he said. "This is the kind of life I lead. I am a fighter. It's what I know, and it's all I ever expected to be. I've survived by keeping myself focused on the moment. And in this moment, while I have the chance..."
    Her ears perked up, her eyes wide in anticipation of the next statement.
    "...I want to thank you. For years now, I've never been able to really trust anyone. I wanted to, but every time I tried, my gut would always tell me that whoever it was this time, they'd turn on me sooner or later. And my gut was usually right."
    She snorted, a smile creeping up on the corners of her mouth.
    His fur began to shine brightly as he continued. "I won't lie to you; I didn't trust you at first, either. But when I saw you on that mountain, with your sword in your hands...I've always trusted my gut, Melissa, and right now, my gut's telling me that I really can trust you. So thank you for that. Thank you...for reminding me what real trust feels like."
    She stared at him like she were expecting more, or something else. When he didn't say anything else, she sighed, staring at him for a minute. She then threw her arms around him, crying on his shoulder. "That poor sheep!" she sobbed. "Those poor animals!"
    Nightshade patted her on the back.
    She cried some more. "What is this thing that can just turn you against your friends and hurt everyone you love like this?"
    "Not sure,' said Nightshade. "But the important thing is, it's gone now."
    She let go, sniffing. "Thanks."
    He suddenly heard murmuring.
    He looked and saw a group of animals crowded around something on the floor. He walked closer to investigate.
    Pushing his way in, he saw a rabbit sprawled dead on the rock. Next to him lay two cats, a koala, a dog, a female hyena, and several other creatures.
    Nateela and Amo stared down at Torgo's lifeless body with tears running down their feathered faces.
    "I'm going to miss him," Amo sobbed. "He was always so full of life! So fun loving and kind!"
    Nateela patted her on the shoulder.
    "And Meerka!" she sobbed. "Why did they both have to die on the same day? How could Quaro let this happen?"
    Nateela shook her head. "I...I don't know, sweetie."
    The dark horned owl stared down in brooding silence. Trajan sniffed. Cephas and Hadrian had their wings over their faces, probably hoping nobody would see them crying. They ended up weeping in each other's down.
    "We should take them to the forest of the elders for a proper ceremony and burial," said the horned owl. "Any others that wish to have burials there are welcome to it."
    "I was thinking we could place them on the backs of the spider beasts," said Trajan.
    The horned owl frowned. "Can any one of us control them?"
    "They are dead," said an opossum. "I saw them outside. They're on their backs, with their feet in the air."
    The horned owl shook his head. "Then we must fly them."
    "Our tribe have Kahodi," said Dreamcloud. "We can use them."
    "Why not let them walk there?" said someone.
    The crowd murmured angrily.
    "Who is that with such a poor definition of humor!" Trajan demanded.
    "I meant no jest. But why do they need to go there?"
    "Cordero!" Amo shouted.
    The group became hushed as all eyes turned to see a lamb with glowing wool stepped in.
    "Ooga umble oop op," said Bongo.
    "Well he isn't dead, is he?"
    "Umble erk?"
    "What do you think?"
    The ape shrugged. "Oooble gumble goombo."
    "It's certainly possible."
    Bongo settled on his knuckles, staring at Cordero.
    Nobody else said anything.
    He strolled over to Torgo, knelt down, and pulled an arrow out of his chest, as well as from other places. As the blood splurted out, he placed a hoof-like paw on the wound, and it sealed. The rabbit coughed several times and sat up, causing many to gasp in shock.
    He gestured to Templeton. "Take the arrows out of Meerka and place your hand on his wound."
    The rat touched his chest. "Me?"
    Cordero nodded.
    He stared at the lamb.
    Bongo scratched his head. "Ungle ump booloo?"
    Templeton furrowed his brow. "Uh...I guess...I guess he's the boss." His eyes scanned the area with a look of confusion. "Which one is Meerka?"
    At least four fingers pointed to the koala.
    He cautiously approached a body and sat next to it. With much nervousness, he pulled out the arrows and put his paw on a dry area.
    "On his wound."
    Nightshade saw the rat's squeamish reaction and chuckled.
    Suddenly Templeton's fur stuck out all over the place like he were touching an electrostatic generator. Meerka's wounds sealed and he slowly sat up.
    "Whoa!"
    Cordero gestured for Templeton to assist the next victim, then motioned to the dark horned owl urging him to imitate what had been done. He then moved on to heal a feline.
    Soon, with everyone's help, all Nightshade's friends and acquaintances, and every slain animal-turned-Hurut was alive and back to normal, including the little boy who had sold him teddy bears.
    Nightshade gazed at the waterfall, watching as a seemingly endless stream of dark blue liquid poured out of the bloated creature's corpse. The substance had the color of toilet bowl cleaner, and it cut through the pollutant like soap in a grease puddle.
    It seemed the mysterious black ooze would no longer be a problem for this world. The liquid was quickly erased by the blue, and in its wake moss and cave plants sprung to vibrant life.
    Sploop!
    Nightshade's ears pricked up. He looked in the water and saw a glowing object drifting beneath the surface. Something angular and bird-like.
    "Not to spoil the party or anything," he heard the rat saying. "But what about the fatcat and that creepy guy with the crown?"
    "They are but a passing shadow," said Cordero. "Any challenge you face will not be beyond what you can handle." He stood up. "I must leave now. There are others that need my help."
    He walked into the crowd and disappeared.
    Nightshade looked down toward the glow in the pool. He couldn't explain it even to himself, but something about that light was calling to him...
    Almost before he knew what he was doing, the hybrid warrior jumped into the water, swimming closer, and closer.... He didn't know what he expected to find; he only knew that he had to reach that light... closer... closer still... he was almost there... his hand reached out...
    The surface of the pond began to bubble violently, throwing water everywhere. A blur of red-purple burst from the center of the pool and exploded like a roman candle, shooting colored light everywhere.
    At the epicenter hovered Nightshade, his entire body covered with the same red-purple light, made solid by some mystic force; it almost looked like gems had been shaped into armor, except that every surface of the armor sparked with an electric charge, causing the dim light it gave off to flicker at random.
    Nightshade slowly descended, the light disappearing from his fur as his feet touched solid ground. "Yes," he said to no-one. "I understand."
    He heard splashing behind him. "Nightshade?"
    Nightshade turned around, looking at the rat.
    "Is that you, Nightshade?"
    Nightshade nodded.
    "Wow. It's like you've...turned into the Guyver or something."
    Splash, splash.
    "What are you talking about?" said Melissa. "What's going on over here?"
    "Nightshade's turned into the Guyver."
    "I always hated that show. I mean, it's cool you can turn a baked potato into a handgun, but the rest is boring."
    "Didn't you...? Never mind."
    The mink approached him, running her paws over his plating. "He's kinda like a robot. Or one of those Battle Pets."
    Splash, splash. Now Amo was staring at him.
    "What is this statue made of rubies doing here?"
    "Uh...my friend just kinda turned into it. Don't ask me why."
    "Cordero grants strange powers indeed."
    The crowd in the cave had quickly thinned out. Only a few from the Roost and Nightshade's companions remained.
    "Well," said Templeton. "This is a lovely place, but I think we should get out of here. Wouldn't you say that's a good idea?"
    THOOM!
    The entire cave shook like it were hit by an earthquake. Rocks thundered down from the roof, causing a swarm of tiny bat creatures to scatter.
    BOOM!
    A section of the cave wall exploded outward.
    When the shower of dust and cave moisture cleared, Nightshade saw a green otter shaped creature standing in the hole with its paws raised in the air. A green platypus stood behind him, fins clenched in fists.
    "I thought that blue stuff took care of all those guys," said Templeton.
    "Not sure," said the owl behind him. "He might have been on top of the waterfall at the time."
    "Ungh oople bump ump."
    "That's a great idea, Bongo!...But how are we going to get this guy immobilized long enough to pour it in his mouth?"
    Nightshade brought a hand up to his chest and concentrated, the purple-red electricity crackling over his knuckles. Sweeping his hand toward the otter, he launched a small electric burst that paralyzed the Hurut-to-be on contact.
    "That won't hold them forever," Nightshade said, doing the same to the platypus. "Whatever your intent, do it quickly."
    The rat stared at the immobilized figures in apprehension. "Uh...that guy just knocked down an entire section of a rock wall."
    "And he'll knock down more if we don't move fast. C'mon!"
    She splashed out of the water, searching the floor. "Where's that cup?"
    "What?"
    "I need a cup. A helmet. Anything that holds water."
    Templeton picked up part of a broken skull before realizing what it was and dropping it. "Yikes!"
    "Gimme that!" Melissa grabbed it, marching over to the water.
    Templeton found the goblet and grabbed it, following her.
    As they were splashing across the pool with the blue liquid in hand, Nightshade saw the cat pop out from behind a rock. Instead of attacking, Catalioni grabbed a small hammer from somewhere, striking a tiny glass box on the cave wall. The glass shattered and he reached in, pulling a lever.
    The sound of a blaring alarm filled the cavern. Nightshade heard a hissing sound and looked up just in time to see a series of fire sprinklers pop out of the rock.
    A shower of water sprayed down like a monsoon, obscuring his vision.
    When his vision cleared, he noticed that the cave looked funny, and the cat was running up a carpeted aisle between rows of plastic seats.
    Behind him, he heard someone calling his name, and evil cackling.
    Nightshade gave a final glance to the cat's retreating back. You won't escape next time, he promised, then turned his eyes the the sound of his name.
    Water sprayed through the projector screen, dampening the already soggy carpeting and side curtains. He squinted through the downpour of the fire sprinklers and saw the otter waving his paws in the air, creating lightning bolts and shooting ice spears across the cave. A chunk of ice slammed into Starflower and he fell over. He saw Dreamcloud get hit in the legs and topple over on his face.
    Jumping in front of one of the lightning bolts as it flew toward Templeton, Nightshade absorbed the electric charge into his fur.
    "You were supposed to give him the cure!" he shouted, shooting the bolt back at the otter. "I told you my electric stun blast wouldn't hold him for long!"
    "I'm sure that would have been a great idea," said the rat. "But there's a friggin' creepy guy in a robe shooting fire out of his fingertips!"
    Nightshade's eyes narrowed, scanning the area around the otter. A dark horned figure lurked beside the fire alarm, a pale green light emanating from its sleeves. Its glowing red eyes met his with an evil glare.
    "He's right," said Melissa. "He drove us back with his stupid pyrotechnics show, then he touched that otter on the back and he just hopped up on his feet like nothing happened."
    "Then it's time to up the ante."
    Looking within himself, Nightshade summoned up the feral fury of his fighting spirit, and the red-purple armor reformed over his fur. Then, as he focused that same anger onto the dark form, the crystalline armor over Nightshade's wings glowed brighter.
    Bracing his feet firmly to the ground, Nightshade leaned forward slightly and aimed the claws of his wings at his enemy; twin bursts of raw lightning formed around the claws and launched themselves toward the dark one as though fired from a missile turret.
    The bolts of electricity arced through the air, striking the shadowy figure, but it just stood there like nothing had happened. It chuckled, the light in its sleeves increasing slightly in intensity. It made no other move, which was unsurprising since the otter still had his paws raised, causing an ice storm.
    A huge icicle slammed into the hybrid's chest armor, knocking him backwards.
    A second, third and forth ice chunk slammed into him as the storm blew like a monsoon, obscuring his vision.
    The otter put his paws down, and the weather inside the cave changed to a light drizzle as he muttered under his breath. Nightshade could see the platypus' webbed feet twitching.
    All right, then. Nightshade ran toward the otter, the light emanating from his armor growing steadily brighter as he approached. I didn't want to have to do this, but now it's time to get up close and personal.
    Channeling the excess charge through his claws, he slashed at the otter several times; each strike sent a fresh wave of electricity through the otter's body.
    The otter fell backwards on the cave floor, blood pouring from his wounds.
    The storm stopped abruptly, the moisture in the cave dumping from the ceiling like someone had overturned a water bucket.
    Nightshade saw a flash, then felt a jolt run through his body. He looked up to see the shadowy figure shooting lightning out of his fingertips. Its amplitude was just as great as the one the hybrid had hit him with just seconds ago. His body locked up, his teeth clamping on his tongue.
    "Nightshade!"
    Mohukai laughed.
    Nightshade heard a fluttering sound, then the figure fell back with an arrow stuck in its chest. The lightning stopped.
    Mohukai growled, pulling the arrow out.
    Absorbing the residual charge of the electricity thrown at him, Nightshade turned the current inward on himself, stimulating his muscles to shake off the paralysis.
    Then, latching onto Bongo's back, Nightshade directed the same stimulating current through the gorilla's muscles, doubling his ally's physical strength.
    "Hit him, Bongo," the hybrid whispered as he released released the gorilla. "Hit him hard... Please?"
    With a growl, the gorilla stood upon its hind legs, beat his chest, and roared. After genuflecting, he bounded across the cave on his knuckles, swinging his lower body in a way that seemed almost comical.
    A few seconds later, the shadowy figure had been cuffed, knocked on the floor, and sat upon.
    "Good going, Bongo!" Templeton yelled. "Way to show him who's boss!"
    Nightshade could hear Mohukai uttering curses in low tones as he struggled to get out from under the hairy posterior.
    "Now let's take care of that platypus!"
    Nightshade heard a loud crack. Bongo's eyes and mouth opened wide in fright.
    The ape shot up on its feet, staring back at the creature in the robe.
    The creature held out a gnarled hand, and a burst of electricity shot out.
    Bongo let out a shriek, hurriedly loping back to where he came from. As he fled, the creature attempted a second burst, but nothing came out but a feeble crackling.
    Dreamcloud nocked an arrow and let it fly.
    Before the arrow could arrive at its target, Mohukai raised his fingers, and a ball of flame shot out. The arrow vaporized, leaving the head to clatter on the floor.
    After a brief second of thought, Nightshade channeled more electricity into himself, amplifying the strength of his own body.
    Taking in as big a breath as he could hold, he braced himself on all fours and released a sonic beam of such high pitch that not even Nightshade himself could hear it.
    The concentrated sound waves tore through the cave, knocked Mohukai from his place on the floor, slammed him into the wall behind him, and held him there as Nightshade kept the hypersonic blast sustained, slowly crushing the evil mage under the force of a jackhammer.
    The waves of ultrasonic vibration pressed him there, drilling his trunk against the rock. His arms, however, were free.
    Though apparently in excruciating pain, he was able to pull out a glass hourglass filled with some purple substance. He held it in front of his chest, allowing the sonic wave to do its work.
    The jar shattered, and the robed creature was engulfed in a brilliant yellow light. And then he was gone.
    "What was that?" said Melissa.
    "I think Nightshade just vaporized him!"
    "No, he had a jar. It looked like he, I dunno, made himself disappear or something."
    "Come to think of it, I did see something." Templeton shrugged. "But I have no idea what it was. Hopefully he's not hiding in this cave somewhere."
    "No, not here," said Dreamcloud. "I would have noticed his stench by now."
    "Outside?"
    "Got me. I hope not."
    "If he's not outside, and he's not in here, then I'll cease caring. I just want to go home."
    "I agree. We got rid of that blob thing, so I'd say our work here is done. Well, almost. Let me take care of these guys on the floor. Where's that cup?"
    Melissa handed it to him.
    Filling it with the blue liquid from the pool, he walked over to the platypus, who was now stirring. As it began to sit up, Templeton cried, "Oh no you don't!" forcing its head back down.
    The platypus growled, snapping its beak comically.
    Templeton splashed the liquid at the snapping mouth, and a quantity went down before it could snap shut.
    The platypus spasmed, then laid still. "Bloomin' heck?" He stared around his surroundings in confusion. "Where am I?"
    "Um...you're in a cave."
    "I got that much. But where?"
    "Um, some evil guy's cave? Snake Mountain? I don't know, it's a cave."
    Epin shook his head. "Fantastic." He looked to the side. "Damien, man! Damien! Speak to me!"
    "Um, I think he's..."
    "Pour the cup on him," said Amo.
    "Pour? Seriously? He's bleeding pretty bad some from really deep cuts! We're talking about major arteries and internal organs here!"
    "Templeton. You've done something like this before."
    "But that's only because the sheep told me to do it. I can't just magically touch someone and heal them!"
    "I didn't tell you to put your hands on him, I told you to pour the cup on him."
    "Honestly, I don't see how this can work. This stuff is only supposed to cure a disease."
    "I somehow know that Cordero's power is greater than that. Remember those you healed before this."
    "I see your point. Okay. Here goes nothing." He filled the cup again, pouring it on the otter's wounds. "Should I pour this in his mouth too, or you think it will work intravenously?"
    "What's int...int...?"
    "Um...you know, in the veins? In the tube thingies that carry blood?"
    "Use your own discretion."
    "Okay, my discretion is saying these veins are sliced open wide enough to make any nurse's day easy, so that should be enough." He set the cup down.
    Nothing happened.
    "Oh all right." He poured it in the otter's mouth.
    Still nothing.
    "Oh well. It was worth a shot."
    "Well now what should we do?"
    "That's fairly simple," Nightshade said, turning to the rat. "You try your healing trick again. Put your hands on his wounds, and pour your light into him like you did before. Yeah, the sheep told you to do it, and yeah, maybe he was just working his magic through you... or maybe he was showing you how to use your own magic."
    "No need, bloke. I think he's coming to. I see his eyes opening."
    The otter gasped loudly, then coughed several times. The coughing stopped and he sat up. "Where am I?"
    "I dunno. And these guys don't know much more than that."
    "All right," said Melissa. "Now that everything's hunky dorey, how do we get out of here?" She glanced at Starflower. "And by here I mean out of this giant renaissance festival."
    "Well, it could have been an illusion," Nightshade said. "But for a moment during the fight, I thought we were back in the theater. This place obviously has some magic to it, and if we find the source of that magic, we might be able to use it to get out of here. That's what logic tells me, anyway."
    Then he smirked. "But since we're in a movie, I think we have to consider the rules of storytelling as well. And they suggest we have to find the guy who just vanished, and finish him off first, before we can get home."
    "Well, it could have been an illusion," Nightshade said. "But for a moment during the fight, I thought we were back in the theater. This place obviously has some magic to it, and if we find the source of that magic, we might be able to use it to get out of here. That's what logic tells me, anyway." Then he smirked. "But since we're in a movie, I think we have to consider the rules of storytelling as well. And they suggest we have to find the guy who just vanished, and finish him off first, before we can get home."
    "No way," said Melissa. "I saw a cartoon like that once, and the show got canceled before they ever could get home." She marched up to the fire alarm, flicking the lever up and down. Nothing happened. She flicked it a few more times and it came off the wall. "What's this thing doing here anyway?"
    "It's a movie," said Templeton. "It doesn't have to make sense."
    "That may be true, but writers are supposed to be consistent with a story's interior logic."
    "Supposed to."
    "Ungh ungh bebop thumba pumba."
    "Well I suppose that creepy guy could have used his magic to do that, but I dunno."
    Melissa pointed to a rock. "I saw him go through that wall. Maybe we could..." She walked over to the slab of limestone, pushing against the surface.
    It didn't budge, so she knocked at it.
    Then she kicked it.
    She kicked it harder. "Ow!"
    Frustrated, she screamed at the rock, yelling all kinds of obscenities at it.
    "I don't think that's helping somehow,"
    "Dumpy tumble bump bump bumble ump oop urgle eep."
    "Um, Bongo, I don't think anyone on this planet even knows what a weirding module is, let alone how to build one."
    The gorilla sighed and sat back on his haunches.
    "Well, what do we do now?"
    "We could go back to the Roost and have supper?" The squat female shrugged her wings.
    "Where is the Shade?" Starflower asked.
    Templeton pointed at the armor plated figure.
    Nightshade nodded.
    Amo backed away, staring at him. "How did he turn into a statue?"
    "It is sorcery," Dreamcloud said with a frown. "I always knew him to be either a demon or a witch."
    "At least he is an ally and not a foe."
    "That is true. Unless he has been scheming with us the whole time to catch us with our guards down."
    "He fights admirably on our behalf. I do not think he is a foe, Dreamcloud."
    "But what is this place he has brought us to! Is this not unlike a trap?"
    "What about his foes? The shrouded one with the magic?"
    "It could be a ruse. A show for our benefit."
    "He didn't do this," said Melissa. "He was under...whatever that was, like we all were. That disease."
    "She's right, Dreamcloud. we were all acting strange."
    "All the more reason to question his loyalty. How do we know he wasn't in full command of his senses when the rest of us were overwhelmed by evil spirits?"
    "More than once, he almost died to protect us."
    The frog sighed.
    "We should get going if we plan to return to the Roost," said Amo.
    Dreamcloud crossed his arms. "I am not returning to the Roost. I have found the Mudepa. We will be starting a new life on their land. The Hurut menace has ended, so we can all settle and start our families and farming there."
    "But what of the other sorceror? The one that shot lighting and fire from his hands?"
    "Is he any less safe than this sea rat that create storm clouds and ice spells? There is a Gaku proverb that says `Do not chase a fleeing hornet, for it returns to a nest full of stingers.' Besides..." He stared at Nightshade. "We have enough things to concern ourselves about." He inflated his air sac.
    "But I will not be blinded by slothfulness. I am joining the tribal guard. The fate of the Gaku must not happen to the Mudepa."
    Templeton shook his head. "I somehow don't think settling down and starting a family is the way out of this movie."
    Bongo grunted.
    "No, I really don't think that is the answer. Seriously."
    The ape blew a raspberry.
    Amo shrugged. "Me and my friends will be leaving soon. Anyone who wants a warm dinner should come with me."
    Dreamcloud shook his head. "Our tribe is also having a feast tonight."
    "Suit yourself. Anyone else want to come along?...Perhaps a small fuzzy gray morsel with a cute little pink tail?"
    "Ummm..." It seemed his face was turning a bit pink. He glanced at Nightshade. "Um, ah...what's the plan, big guy?"
    "How many different ways do I have to say it?" Nightshade said. "I got no answers for you. I got no rudder. Even with this lightning under my control, I'm still just a leaf on the wind; if there's anything to be gained by following me, it's only because I've been lucky so far."
    A moment's concentration, and the electrified crystalline armor receded into Nightshade's body, leaving him standing there in only his fur and leathers. "People are meant to follow someone who knows where they're going. That ain't me. All I've ever done is wing it."
    He looked at Templeton. "Right now, I'm inclined to wing toward food, but you don't need me to tell you when to eat."
    "So where are you going to eat? Both these guys say they have food, but they're going to two different places miles apart."
    Nightshade smirked. "Think I'll leave that to you."
    "Well..." The rat nervously wrung his tail. "I...uh, noticed that you're sort of...attached to those Indians...but I really don't think settling down and starting a family is going to help us get home."
    "Hmph!" said Amo.
    "Anyways, it sounds like the frog is taking a dislike to us, so we'd probably be better off at the Roost."
    "Ungh ung oop google boogle."
    "You're absolutely right. It is built into the title!"
    "Oh darn," said Melissa. "I was sooo getting a craving for Indian tacos!"
    Templeton slowly waddled up to the female owl with a bashful expression on his face. "We've, er...decided to take you up on your offer."
    "Were you serious about not wanting to settle down?"
    He swallowed. "I'm sorry. I...this isn't my world. I have parents and relatives back home, and I...I just can't. I mean, maybe if circumstances were different or something..." He bowed his head, but Nightshade could tell his expression was like `gee, I hope she buys this.'
    Amo sighed. "Oh all right. Let's get going before it gets dark."
    Nightshade heard the rat let out a surprised shout as a flurry of feathers swept him out of the cave.
    Hadrian and Cephas remained, looking at Melissa expectantly.
    She frowned, then put an arm around the hybrid's shoulders. "No thanks. I'm covered." She smiled at him. "Well? May I fly the friendly skies?...Or are they unfriendly today?"
    "We'll soon see." Taking her in his arms, he crouched low and kicked off, launching her into the air.
    The two owls took to wing, and he followed after them, rushing out the mouth of the cave. Outside, he could see Amo with Templeton in her arms. She moved with surprising rapidity, becoming a small blob in his field of vision.
    Hearing the sounds of screaming, his ears perked up, but as he flew closer to the source, he discovered it to be nothing more than Amo taking an acrophobic rat a little too high up in the air. She folded her wings into a dive, and the shrieking increased in volume, no harm being done. The owls were laughing, and so was Melissa. Seeing it to be a false alarm, he flew at a relaxed speed, keeping pace with the other owls.
    He looked below and saw Bongo trudging along on his feet and knuckles with the chest slung over his shoulder. The rabbit ran ahead of him, perpetually stopping and running back to check on his progress. He saw the otter floating in the air alongside them, like some sort of bizarre superhero, as the platypus waddled in the middle of the group. Now that he wasn't throwing ice shards, he viewed the otter as merely a curious oddity.
    Despite the added weight, Nightshade enjoyed the opportunity to stretch his wings again. The muscles and bones felt completely healed, and stronger than they'd ever been. Like a race horse feeling his oats, he was feeling his recovery. At her continual prodding, he took the mink high into the air, and dove, making her giggle and shout with delight.
    He followed the owls over a corn field, a lake, and over the treetops of a forest.
    About halfway through, the mink's weight got to him, and he stopped to rest on a thick branch.
    Cephas stopped, landing beside him. "We can carry her if you'd like. It's not like we're doing anything."
    "We asked around," said Hadrian. "But nobody wanted us to carry them. Trajan and Nateela already took care of that."
    "What say you, Melissa?" Nightshade asked, turning to the mink. "You can wait for me to recover my stamina enough to take you up again, or you can go back up with these guys now, or you can continue on foot. What'll it be?"
    "I'm fine," she said. "I seriously doubt we'll find a way home back at Ewok village."
    "Huh?" Cephas stared at her.
    Melissa shook her head. "Let's just rest awhile."
    The other owl shrugged and settled on a branch below them. Melissa flung her legs over the side, looking up at the hybrid. "So, handsome. What's the deal with this turning into a robot thing? Are you some kind of android or something?"
    "You are referring to my Phoenix Soul, I take it?" Nightshade raised a hand in plain view, as electric sparks jumped through the fur on his forearm. "I don't pretend to know how it works."
    The sparks quickly became stronger and more frequent until the entire half of his arm was swimming with them. Then, with a burst of light, all the sparks unified into a single plate, covering his arm in a crystalline gauntlet of solid electricity.
    "For the moment, it's enough to know that it does what I tell it to do," Nightshade concluded, as the electric energy faded from his fur.
    She sighed and shook her head. "So where do you come from?"
    "That..." he said finally, "is something that I myself have been wondering for quite some time. Tell you what; when I find out, you'll be the first to know."
    Melissa frowned and kicked her legs.
    They rested. Bongo and a group of animals from the Roost came to join them.
    Once Nightshade felt he had regained enough of his strength, he stood up, stretching his wings. "Let's go."
    Melissa brushed herself off and got up, eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck. Seeing the owls fluttering on, Nightshade scooped her up and took off after them.
    He followed them over a corn field, a lake, and over the treetops of a forest. His guides led him over a swamp filled with brown lotus pods and algae, a Kahodi pasture, farms, and a long, spreading weather cracked stretch of dirt interspersed with stubble.
    He could just barely see the dot that was the distant shape of Amo and her rodent passenger. His ears, however, could still pick up the sounds of his hollering.
    He followed the river, crossing field, rapid and forest, until they at last arrived at the familiar blackened wood surrounding the roost.
    The roost itself stood in shambles. Missing bridges, a missing tree, semi-collapsed cabins, sections of platform with huge holes in the flooring. Here and there, makeshift rope bridges had been constructed, crude things resembling Boy Scout pioneering projects more than something for everyday use. A number of dwellings had been cannibalized into the manufacture of slapdash lean-to structures, and the trees appeared scorched with barely any crown remaining.
    At last the owls set foot on one of the sturdier platforms, and Nightshade set down his heavy parcel.
    He looked around, but could see no sign of Templeton.
    The owls stretched, unperturbed.
    "Do you have any idea where my rodent friend is?"
    "He might be at the dining hall. Amo was supposed to help cook."
    Melissa stared at her surroundings. "Wait just one darn minute. How did this stuff get set up already?"
    Cephas shrugged. "Nateela and Trajan were carrying some animals. I also saw some riding on Kahodi and others were going on foot while you were fighting...whoever he was."
    "Oh." She twisted her lip. "Still...it's weird." She stared at Nightshade a second, then snapped her fingers. "That's it! I heard music!" She smacked her head. "It's a montage! I'm so stupid! Why didn't I think of that before!"
    "Huh?"
    "Never mind. Nightshade, do you remember hearing music?"
    Nightshade frowned. "I...think so."
    "That must be what it is, then."
    "Refresh my memory. What is a montage?"
    "It's a bit on a TV show or movie where they compress time into a music video to skip over a lot of boring parts in the plot."
    "Or..." Cephas offered. "Maybe it's not whatever or whoever you're describing, and animals just got here before you did and started setting up things? After all, it's not too difficult to make a handful of rope bridges and shelters." He shrugged. "Just a thought."
    Melissa blew a raspberry. "Whatever. I just want to go home."
    "You and me both," Nightshade said. "But how?"
    "I don't know." She frowned, staring at the fire cracked boards.
    "Well?" said Cephas. "Shall we go?"
    The mink shrugged and snapped her tail. "Sure. Why not."
    Hadrian strode across a few charred, uneven planks, waving a wing forward. Nightshade and Melissa followed, stepping over charred, warped, loose feeling boards. Due to a huge hole in the middle of the platform, their path went around a crudely hammered boardwalk set up at its edges, to a long rope bridge.
    Nightshade looked over the edge, where, to his surprise, he could see an ape lumbering around with a chest slung over one shoulder. He chalked it up to movie magic.
    The rope bridge, being what it was, didn't stay put very well, swaying unpredictably with the slightest wind or movement of the creature crossing it. Melissa took it well, and everyone else had wings, so they made it across without delay.
    A shadow of the former dining hall stood on the platform, a blackened, half collapsed structure with a hastily cobbled roof and assorted bits of discarded wood patching the holes in the walls.
    Nightshade suddenly heard a scream. Judging by what he'd heard previously, he knew it to be Templeton. His ears pricked up as he scanned the area for danger.
    A few seconds later, he saw the rat running towards him. His clothes were on backwards, damp, and partially torn, like some monster had gotten a hold on him.
    "N-Nightshade!" he cried with a look of wide eyed terror. "Y-you've g--g-got to help me! Quick!" His head and eyes darted back and forth in fear. "Hide me!" He hissed. And then he ducked under the hybrid's wings.
    "What happened?" Nightshade , his voice gruff. Not waiting for an answer, he quickly scanned the area with his sonar, and his fur crackled with static as he prepared to call forth his Phoenix Soul against the unknown threat.
    He only detected a snowy owl swooping down from above.
    She landed, padding up to the entrance of the dining hall. "Oh morsel!" she called in a sing-song voice. "Where are you?"
    The owl glanced at Nightshade, then at the mink. Her eyes traveled downwards.
    "There you are!" she giggled. "I see you!"
    Melissa stared at her. "What's going on?"
    "Oh nothing," Amo grinned.
    Templeton cowered behind the hybrid's leg. "She's trying to eat me!"
    Nightshade growled at the owl as the sparks crackling through his fur became stronger. "Is that true?"
    "Really, sir. I do not see how this concerns you. I mean your friend no harm." She cleared her throat, brushing down the feathers on her head. "But if you must know, yes, I intend to eat him. But it is the type of eating that brings...(ahem)pleasure to the one being eaten."
    Melissa's mouth dropped open in shock.
    "That very well may be," Templeton stammered. "But it's completely immoral!"
    "What is immoral about it?" Amo closed on him, pressing her feathers against his body. "We both love each other, don't we?"
    Templeton jumped back. He swallowed, then stammered, "There is a time and a place for such things, and that time is not now!"
    She hopped after him, invading his personal space once again. "And what is a good time?"
    "Well, one generally gets married first."
    Amo gasped. "You want to marry me?" She wrapped her wings around him in a crushing hug. "But I thought you wanted to get home!"
    "I do!"
    Before Templeton could voice his protest, she said, "So when would you like to have it?"
    "Amo, I was just explaining why we can't...you know. It's against my morals, especially since my friends plan to be leaving soon."
    The gleeful expression dropped off her beak.
    "Dear, what would happen if we summoned a stork? Who would take care of it? Surely not I! We would be gone by then!"
    "No! You would stay!" she said, shaking him. "You would love your hatchling and remain to take care of it!"
    "Amo," Templeton said with a stern expression. "My friends and I are leaving."
    The owl sniffed, turning away. Nightshade could hear her sobbing as she took off into the air.
    Templeton sighed as he watched her leave.
    "I'm not sure I want to ask," said Melissa.
    "You wouldn't believe it, Nightshade! First she's taking me up to her nest and telling me how she loves me and everything, and then I hear this soft music playing from who knows where, and she starts ripping my clothes off!"
    The mink shook her head. "I think this whole thing is TMI."
    Nightshade growled, the sparks vanishing from his fur. "That tears it," he said. "If we don't get out of here soon, I'm going to have to kill something."
    "Well," Melissa grumbled. "Let's see if there's any chow in there."
    This produced another heavy sigh from the rat.
    As soon as the hybrid set foot inside the dining hall, the noise of conversation ceased, and he found a crowd of animals staring at him.
    "Hi!" Melissa said with a wave. "We're the weirdoes! I'm pretty sure you remember us!"
    Nightshade stared at his surroundings. The fire had ruined much of the original decor. The walls were now barren and boarded up, the tables and seats lopsided, cracked, and charred. He could recognize most of the faces staring back, but it seemed a group of new ones had been added, including a squatty compsognathus near the kitchen door.
    The long moment of silence had passed and the adult snowy female came out. She did not speak until she stood before him, and only in a quiet tone. "Will Amo be all right?"
    Nightshade nodded.
    "It's nothing major. She just got dumped."
    "In what river?"
    Melissa smacked her head. "How do you describe rejection on this planet? What words do I need to describe the fact that the guy broke up with her? They split up? That he...separated the relationship?"
    "She's been wingdusted?"
    "Um...I guess?"
    "Oh!"
    Pockets of conversation started up, but Nightshade could not shake the gaze of the crowd.
    "Where is she?"
    "I...don't know," said Melissa.
    Templeton pointed to the trees. "She went that way."
    Nateela sighed. "I suppose she will need some time alone to recover from this." She took a deep breath. "Well! Take a seat! We'll be eating soon." She gestured to a table.
    Nightshade stared at the seated creatures, looking for an open spot. He saw one open stool at the far end, in between a dog and a pygmy appaloosa, and two open seats at the opposite end, between an orange-brown tabby and a squirrel.
    He grabbed one of the nearby stools, in between the cat and squirrel, and sat down, gesturing to Melissa.
    The mink gave the rat an apologetic shrug. "Sorry." She gestured to the open stool at the other end. "I think you can sit down there!"
    Templeton sighed. With his shoulders drooping, he shuffled his way to the end of the room, looking uncomfortable as he stared at the creatures seated there.
    The spotty horse pulled out a stool for him and he seated himself.
    Having seemingly adjusted to the guests, the crowd increased its volume, filling the air with jokes and lively conversation. They still stared, but it seemed they had mostly moved on to discuss other things.
    Nightshade felt a tap on his shoulder. The next moment, he held the cat's paw in his vice-like grip.
    "Reowwwr!" it exclaimed. "Easy there! I was just trying to get..." he stammered. "That is, I...I didn't mean any harm."
    He let go of the paw.
    The koala slowly next to the cat slowly leaned Nightshade's way. "My friend and I were just talking, and we were trying to figure out, among other things, what kind of animal you are. We've never seen your kind before."
    "My kind," he replied.
    "You're not a bat, are you? We were just saying your muzzle and such aren't very bat-like. Of course, we could be wrong."
    "You're not a bat, are you? We were just saying your muzzle and such aren't very bat-like. Of course, we could be wrong."
    Nightshade growled impatiently. "If you don't know, don't guess."
    Before they had a chance to respond, Nateela and the compy came out with pots of something that smelled like meat and vegetable matter. They set one down at each table, then brought out dishes, two pronged forks and other entrees.
    "I wonder what we're having," said the koala.
    "I think I smell beans."
    "Lovely."
    The food got passed around, and a yellow finch stood up, giving a blessing for the meal, and then everyone dug in.
    Nightshade noticed that there wasn't any fish this time around, which wasn't much of a surprise. He had been given a bowl of stew containing some unidentified meat, and a breaded leg of something, accompanied by beans and carrots and bread.
    "This is Sentret, isn't it?" the cat asked in between bites.
    "Couldn't be much of anything else, could it?" said the squirrel. "Poor things were already cooked once."
    Nightshade recalled seeing some raccoon tailed creatures cooped up in wooden cages around the Roost, and suddenly understood what they meant.
    Melissa shrugged and munched a leg.
    Indifferent, Nightshade tore into his own meal. Food was food, and after hunting for himself for three years, quality was second to quantity.
    The two animals closest to Nightshade were quiet for a few minutes, busy consuming their food.
    "Did you hear about Lulu?"
    The squirrel set down a spoonful of beans. "No, what happened?"
    "She said she ran into a group of robbers at the edge of the wood. A nasty fox, a cat, and a raccoon. She said they took her necklace, and were about to kidnap her before this big gorilla chased them off!"
    "Sounds like something he would do," Nightshade said between bites.
    "Who? The gorilla? Or the fox?"
    "Both, if that fox is who I think it is."
    The squirrel shrugged and they continued eating.
    All of a sudden, he heard a low humming sound. The noise was constant, repetitive, like the sound of some sort of machinery. It raised and lowered in pitch at regular intervals, increasing and decreasing in volume.
    Very few in the room seemed to notice, being busy with conversation and other things. A couple sharp eared critters perked up their ears, signs of confusion creeping up their faces, but the others didn't notice.
    If so few can hear it, Nightshade thought, it could be someone's sonic eye. To test the theory, he launched his own sonar into the mix, and listened for an answer.
    No reply. Whatever it was only continued humming uncaringly.
    "Did you hear something?" said Melissa.
    Nightshade didn't answer, being too busy trying to discern who it was.
    THOOM!
    All of a sudden, a section of the wall exploded, throwing a shower of splinters, nails, and wood fragments everywhere.
    Hearing screams and surprised shouts, he looked to the right to see a huge gray disk jutting out of the wall. The thing appeared to be made of metal, and as big as a gong or a medium sized table.
    Jumping away from the table, Nightshade called up his Phoenix Soul and took his stance, ready to fight whatever had thrown that thing into the wall.
    The humming continued. He saw nothing through the open doorway except trees, branches, and the skyline of the distant landscape.
    "What's going out there!" the dog cried.
    "I dunno!"
    "A giant?" Melissa scrunched up her face. "Are you kidding?"
    "I've never seen one myself," said the cat. "But legends are full of them."
    In the background, Nightshade could her animals murmuring plans about what should be done.
    "I say we fight it," said Go. "We don't need a giant trashing our already demolished homes."
    The squirrel shook his head. "Nonsense! I say we offer our terms of surrender! After all, none of us can hope to defeat something that can throw an object like that."
    Nateela grabbed the edge of the disk, trying to peer through the crack.
    "It could be a sort of cannonball," said the koala. "They might not be as tough as we think."
    "But what kind of army could load a cannon that size? And what's with that incessant humming?"
    The female owl marched to the center of the room. "I say we get someone to go out and investigate so we know what we're up against."
    "But what if he throws another one of those things? What then?"
    "We don't know if it's a he, even."
    "Still. It's dangerous. To be hit with a shield of that size..."
    Nateela sighed.
    "So what do you propose we do?"
    "I'd say wait in here-"
    "And get another shield thrown at us?"
    "We could use the escape chute!"
    "And flee like a bunch of cowards?" Go scoffed. "We are the warriors of Alalart! We can't let this thug evict us from our home! What are we-"
    "Please," said a small white rodent. "No mouse metaphors."
    He got stared at for a minute, then a female bushbaby with a Jamaican accent spoke. "He's right, ya know. This is our home!"
    "We can find other homes," said a kitsune.
    "This is true," a white cat said with bristling fur. "I bet that giant could kill us all with one swipe of his hand!"
    "I'll go and see what's out there," Nightshade said, as his Phoenix Soul Armor sparked and crackled with raw electric force. "You want someone to find out what's going on, I'll find out what's going on."
    "Be careful!" said Nateela. "We don't know what we're up against!"
    "He's using sorcery," said the white cat. "Perhaps it will be an even fight."
    Nightshade marched out the door, keeping his eyes and ears open for the nearest threat. Behind him, he heard footsteps, then Melissa murmuring to Templeton about how it can't be a giant and how giants didn't exist. Templeton tried to argue to the contrary, but Go shushed them both, saying they'd stir the giant up again.
    Nightshade peered around the corner, scanning the area with sonar.
    His ears detected something metallic about a foot below the platform.
    With caution he crept across the platform in that direction, uncertain as to what he'd be facing. Whatever it was had to be metallic in some form, be it a golem or a giant with a big helmet.
    As he got nearer, the thing rose into view, completely obliterating his previous assumptions.
    It wasn't a giant at all. He found himself staring at a massive silver object shaped like a walnut. Deep grooves ran down its streamlined, mirror-like surface, refracting the images of branches and tree tops as it bobbed and listed slightly in the air.
    It did nothing but idly hum as he stared at it. He noticed its bottom portion was missing, probably because it had been stuck in the wall of the dining hall.
    Gathering his voice in his throat, Nightshade bounced his sonar off the trees around the machine, using his sonic eye to scan it from every angle at once for a way inside.
    He could sense no openings anywhere. The object had no apparent weldings or joints, cracks or seams.
    As if responding to the sonar, its humming got louder.
    "This is awesome!" said Templeton. "I love that movie!"
    "What movie?" said Melissa.
    "You know, the one with the kid and the spaceship...of course, this one is bigger."
    "Is that the one where they made the spaceship out of trash cans and a chair?"
    "Um...no."
    "I don't think I saw that one, then."
    "If it's what I think it is, it's a nice spaceship with no toilet."
    "Oh...kay."
    The object drifted sideways, its hum changing pitch.
    Templeton hopped up and down, waving his arms. "Hi! Hello! Greetings from planet Urdh!"
    The object stopped, hovering in the air. The humming decreased in volume, and then, after a long pause, a loud booming voice echoed through the forest.
    "Ungh oop ungle boop pop ibble bumpy," it said.
    "Hi!" Templeton shouted. "Welcome to...Alalart!"
    The voice grunted politely.
    "You should meet my friend! He speaks your language!"
    "Oop umble?"
    "No. I said `he.'"
    "Umble gumble?"
    "Yes, I'm sure there's no females."
    Nightshade heard the voice sigh loudly.
    "Bongo, is that you?"
    "Uhgh-uh! Oople umble gump hoohah bumbkin."
    "You're a bad liar! Where are you?"
    "Ungh umpa!"
    The rat leaned over the side of the platform, staring down.
    "What have you got there?"
    "Umb umble ooh ooh boogle bumpy gub!"
    "Well don't push anything else! You could have killed someone!"
    "Umph horrey."
    "Hold on! We'll come down and take a look!"
    "Umphkay."
    The object's humming increased in volume, then, without any warning, it slammed into the dining hall, causing it to shake, threatening to collapse.
    "Oh, brilliant, Bongo." Stepping back inside the dining hall, Nightshade called to the rest of the furs inside, raising his voice above the rumble of the shaking walls. "Closing time, people! Everybody out of the pool! Let's go!"
    "You don't have to tell me twice!" the squirrel called, bolting through the doorway. A stampede of animals followed him, the remainder presumably opting for a secret exit hidden somewhere in the kitchen.
    "Bongo! Stop!" the rat shouted.
    The next moment, the silver thing popped out of the dining hall, taking the roof supports with it. More alarming still, Nightshade could see four creatures still inside, animals wearing little or no protection against falling debris.
    The roof sagged and creaked threateningly.
    Before Nightshade could jump in and rescue them, his entire field of vision filled with the image of a number 4 inside a circle, with a line rotating through its center, revealing a number 3. The image vanished just in time for him to see the ceiling collapse.
    The boards and thatch poured down from above, bouncing harmlessly off the animals' heads, making hollow sounds. To Nightshade's surprise, they bounced off the floor with a lightness unknown to any wood other than balsa.
    "Why does that stuff look like styrofoam?" Melissa asked.
    "Not sure."
    "Are we looking at a plot hole?"
    On cue, the boards flickered strangely, reverting to regular wood, and the victims moaned and clutched their heads like they'd been really hurt.
    "We'll deal with it later," Nightshade said. Keeping a sonic eye on the terrain in case of another collapse, the hybrid ran toward the nearest of the victims. "Can you still walk?"
    "I...think I broke my head..." a chow mongrel moaned.
    "Your head looks fine!" a chipmunk griped. "But my head is killing me!"
    "I think they can walk," said Melissa. "Ouch!"
    Nightshade turned his head to see Melissa waving her paw. She had touched his armor.
    "You could have warned me that that thing is electrified!" She blew on her palm. "Anyways..." She waved at the doorway. "You heard him! Everybody out!"
    The animals hurried out, grumbling about losing their suppers.
    The animals hurried out, grumbling about losing their suppers. Nightshade followed them out, fearing the collapse of the rest of the structure.
    A few seconds later, the weight of the gong shaped object caused the wall to collapse.
    Looking at Melissa, Nightshade let his armor fade away. "You asked me why I didn't warn you about the electric shock," he said. "Tell me this: Did you think it was a coincidence that whenever I summon the armor, it's preceded by a collection of electric currents visibly running through my fur? The Phoenix Soul is not the crystal it appears to be; it is raw lightning made solid. I did not tell you before, because I assumed you knew already."
    Melissa frowned and sucked her finger. "If we ever get out of here, I'm going to put you in a `how to treat a lady' class."
    Nightshade would have responded, but he heard Templeton shouting something. And then, "Bongo! No!"
    He heard a loud hum, then the entire platform shook like it were on a fault line. The crowd of assembled animals screamed and yelled, scrambling for the safety of other platforms.
    Shutting off his armor for a moment, Nightshade grabbed hold of Melissa, spread his wings, and jumped off the platform, flying to the nearest solid deck.
    "Is this better?" he quipped, setting her down on the platform.
    "Well, yeah. That was certainly nice of you," she grinned. "But shouldn't you be stopping that thing before it does more damage?"
    A beam of green light shot out of the object, creating a glowing blob in front of them. The blob solidified into the shape of a green bat-jaguar creature with enormous eyes and tentacle fingers. "Greetings!" it said. "I am Pluthar, captain of the Starship Zarg. If you are listening to this, our mission has failed, and the evil Mecikudu have destroyed our fleet. This ship is the last defense against this great assault, the only hope of the planet Turoluqu. Take care of this vehicle and its vast array of futuristic alien weaponry. The fate of the entire galaxy rests in your hands."
    A tiny ball of fluff with pointy ears and no eyes tugged on the alien's wing. "Tell him about the password!"
    "Oh. Right. I almost forgot. The password you need to get into the ship and open everything is `Cheese Doodles.'"
    The hologram and its buddy disappeared.
    "Great," Melissa sighed. "Another plot complication. At this rate we'll never get out of here."
    "Well, maybe the 'futuristic alien tech' can give us a shortcut." Flying up to the side of the ship, Nightshade called out the password the hologram had provided.
    Upon his command, the metal on the lower front section of the craft liquefied, revealing a round hole. Below it, a small staircase formed itself out of the material.
    Nightshade looked through the opening. The object's interior resembled that of a jet plane, with cramped passageways, complicated looking instrument panels, control yokes, gunnery turrets, and aircraft style seating. Everything had a dirty, rusted out appearance, with loose wires, dangling panels, and soldered together machinery, as if the seamless shiny exterior were only a facade. The ventilation system hissed quietly under the droning hum.
    He stepped into the cockpit, searching for an instruction book. It indeed appeared as if he would need one. In typical movie fashion, none of the buttons had labels, giving no clue as to what they did.
    He put a paw on an armrest, then jerked it away when he felt something wet and sticky. He looked down and saw a massive glob of slime occupying the copilot's chair, from headrest to seat cushion. The slime extended from the armrests to the control yoke, wrapping tightly around the handles.
    As he stared at it, a flap of slime shot out, stabbing a button. The top lump of slime turned and gurgled at him.
    "I have no idea what you just said," Nightshade replied. "Do you speak English?"
    The blob of slime opened a glove box, taking out an orange-white and black book, which it thrust into the hybrid's hands. The title read Glurgblurgle For Dummies. Though the book dribbled with ooze that smelled of cabbage, he opened it, examining the pages. After skipping the boring introduction, he came to the first informative page.
    PAGE 2
    Hello...Glurbgurlegurgle.
    How are you?...Blurgleglurbslumslurm
    I am fine...Slurleslurmle.
    Where is the bathroom?...Snurbleflurp?
    Please do not engulf me...Blurzle z'slurrrylslurrg.
    Stay away, I am contagious...Glarrr! Mbluragalurrslurp!
    I am a separate entity that wishes not to be absorbed...Blarrppplurrrghhurmmplrumppllumpsss
    Shaking his head, Nightshade put the book aside. "I don't have time to learn the finer points of your language. You can understand me; that will have to do for now. Look, I'm here because this ship projected an image of... someone... asking for help. Do you know how to pilot us there?"
    The blob let out something akin to a sigh, then gurgled some more, pointing behind him.
    Nightshade turned around just in time to see a boxy looking robot slowly lumbering up the corridor.
    Incredibly slowly.
    "HOSTILE LIFEFORM DETECTED IN COCKPIT," it said, reaching straight ahead in zombie-like fashion. Stomp, stomp, stomp. "HOSTILE LIFEFORM DETECTED IN COCKPIT."
    From what Nightshade could figure, it intended to slowly choke him to death with the giant red pinchers it kept waving about. But at the moment, he had the advantage. In fact, he figured he could probably microwave a cup of coffee and come back and it would only be a few feet closer than it was before.
    "HOSTILE LIFEFORM DETECTED IN COCKPIT." Yes, it also was a great conversationalist.
    The hybrid felt something wet on his head. He looked to the side and saw the slimy thing had put one of its slime tentacles on him, and it made his scalp tingle.
    As he felt the effect the goop was having on him, Nightshade's mind flashed back to the phrases he'd found in the translation book, and for the first time in years, he panicked.
    Ducking away from the tentacle, he backed away from the slime creature, the telltale electric sparks rising in his fur as he prepared to summon his Phoenix Soul Armor.
    "The universal translator is b-" a gurgling voice said inside his head. But then the electrical barrier vaporized the ooze. He'd switched it on by instinct.
    "HOSTILE LIFEFORM DETECTED IN COCKPIT." The robot tottered from leg to leg, which caused it to move forward a few inches.
    "Yeah, and when you get here, you'll learn just how hostile I can be," Nightshade said at the robot. "But in the meantime, shut up."
    He turned back toward the slime creature. "Sorry about vaping your ooze. I'm not particularly fond of being touched when I can't see it coming. You wanted to say something to me?"
    The creature only gurgled. Apparently, the slime had something to do with the communication he'd received.
    "The universal translator is b..." Nightshade muttered to himself. The universal translator is b... He thought. Obviously it doesn't mean `back on.' If it doesn't mean `bad', then maybe he's telling me to go in the back somewhere...
    "Hey!" Nightshade shouted. "What did you mean about the universal translator!"
    The blob gurgled incoherently, gesticulating at the cockpit. Well, he considered. If this is the only way to get the information... With caution, he walked up to the pilot's seat, leaning close to the blob.
    A tendril slurmed its way onto his scalp, and he heard the slimy voice in his head again.
    The universal translator is in the back corner on the shelf above the washing machine.
    "Thanks." He turned on his spirit armor again, frying the substance off his fur. In his head, he heard the creature yowl in pain, then it became quiet.
    "Washing machine," Nightshade muttered, staring back at the corridor. He marched down the tunnel, looking around for the `back.'
    He found a pair of gun turrets, an aclove containing a coffee machine, and then he was blocked by the boxy robot.
    "WARNING: INTRUDER MUST VACATE VEHICLE IN FIVE MINUTES OR BE PINCHED TO DEATH."
    "Cheese doodles," Nightshade said simply.
    "Oohhhhh," the robot sighed, slumping its shoulders. The LED lights that served for its eyeballs switched off, and it bent forward, limply dangling its vacuum hose arms.
    While this prevented him from getting slowly pinched to death, it didn't stop the bulk of the robot from obstructing his path.
    The robot's shoulders filled the narrow passageway, leaving a gap of only a few inches on either side. Its wide vacuum hose legs blocked the space below, and he only had a couple feet of clearance above the machine's blocky head.
    Figuring that the robot could have some potentual later on, he grabbed hold of its shoulders, climbing onto its back.
    The moment he put his weight on it, the robot tottered, collapsing to the floor with a deafening bang.
    "Now where's that washing machine?" He looked left and found a cramped bedroom. To the right he saw a doorway with a shower curtain pulled across it. He threw back the curtain only to find a bathroom with a shower, toilet and a water heater. "Some spaceship," he muttered.
    The corridor ended in a wide chamber containing a couch, a chess board, and closed hatches. In the corner he saw the washing machine and drier, with a cluttered shelf above it. There! He dashed over to it, examining the clutter.
    Drier sheets, screwdrivers, wrenches, a welding torch, keys, odd looking coins, chainsaw oil, a helmet, goggles, and an object resembling a small disco ball.
    Behind a plastic soft drink cup he found a small device that looked like a hearing aid. The word "Altavista UT822" had been printed on one side. He could see tiny letters reading `translator' protruding from the other side.
    The walls shook for a moment, and he heard a sound like someone twanging a radio station antennae.
    Dropping his armor, Nightshade placed the translator into his ear and went back to the cockpit.
    "What was that shaking?" he asked of the blob.
    The blob gurgled something.
    After a thirty second delay, he heard a voice in the earpiece. "It is beginning furnace."
    "The furnace. Is beginning."
    The blob nodded.
    "You mean it's coming on?"
    The blob nodded again.
    Nightshade frowned. "Yeah. Advanced alien technology." He stared at the blob.
    "You did arrive to correct toilet? It is badly inside repair necessity."
    Nightshade gave the blob a look. "Even with this thing on, I have no idea what you just said."
    "Aha. You there is no plumber. You know the word of code." A tentacle of slime pulled on a lever. "We they cut arith captain. I am the automatic accumulation. This ship is to steer it." It gestured to the steering yoke. "You."
    "I don't know how to pilot this thing."
    The blob shook its head. "I am the hut. You say to me where to go. You are captain. This is its ship."
    "Well..." Nightshade scratched his head. "I guess the first thing to do is pick up a few friends of mine. This ship could eventually be our way home, and if that's the case, I don't want to leave them behind... not to mention they'd all be useful in a fight."
    The blob pushed some buttons on the dashboard, causing topographic map with a grid overlay to appear on a screen. A scattering of red dots crawled around in various locations like little ants.
    "I discover 83 forms of life in the sector," said the blob. "Do you wish me to board everything get it?"
    A brief image of trees and Kahodi and various debris being beamed into the ship popped into his head. He shook his head violently. "No. Don't do that."
    "What want you me to take on board?"
    "What?"
    "Which need you take me for border?" The blob pointed to the dots. "Which?"
    "Is there any way to identify them more accurately?" Nightshade asked. "I'm looking for three specific life forms."
    The blob stretched its oozing body upwards, grabbing hold of a pair of glittery purple handlebars. It pulled down, and a big, awkward looking square contraption lowered into view.
    The blob adjusted two cranks, turned a dial, then pointed a slimy fin at a binocular-like eyepiece set in the center of the clunky machine. "It looks in the eye objective."
    Nightshade frowned. "That's how I see things on the ground?"
    A flap of slime nodded.
    "This is ridiculous."
    The blob pointed at the eyepiece.
    With a sigh, Nightshade poked his snout into the crevice between the lenses, looking through the aperture.
    He saw a dog gathering firewood.
    He fiddled with the knobs and levers, grinding his teeth in frustration as it did odd things like zoom in on the dog's earmites, blur out of focus, pull back for an extreme wide shot, and turn the entire view upside down.
    With the help of something slimy brushing against his paw, he managed to get a close-up shot of a termite colony in a tree near Melissa's head. "There! Down and to the lower left."
    It went lower right.
    "The other left."
    Squeak, squeak. He could now see her face.
    She is kinda pretty-- wait, where'd that come from? He shook his head.
    "There," he said. "Now bring her aboard."
    "Me let's look at."
    "But then you'll get slime all over everything."
    "I do not have none another way to look at."
    Nightshade sighed and let the blob look.
    The blob pressed a blob of slime against the eyepiece. "Here. I see," it said, pushing a series of buttons.
    Nightshade felt the vehicle shift, then heard a rumbly grinding sound. A few minutes later, he heard the faint sounds of a female voice shouting.
    "You have got to be kidding me!"
    Confused, Nightshade walked down the hallway, looking into the entry corridor. He saw an open hatch, and the staircase. Why is this open? he thought, creeping closer.
    He looked out and saw the longest narrow staircase he'd ever seen. At the bottom steps, he saw a small white figure in armor marching angrily upwards.
    "What kind of crappy spaceship is this! Don't you have a molecular transporter or a shuttle or something! This staircase doesn't even have railings! What happens if I fall! Just because lawyers haven't been invented yet doesn't mean you're not going to get in trouble for this sorry excuse for a flying saucer! Can't you at least land this thing on the ground and give us less staircase to climb up!"
    "I expected a transporter or a shuttle!" Nightshade said, gliding down closer to her. "But this is what I got!"
    About five minutes later, he saw Melissa at the middle of the staircase.
    "Don't think I don't see you up there! Help me up!"
    With a sigh, the hybrid jumped down, gliding to a spot one step above her. Scooping her up, he flapped his wings, and they touched down in the entry corridor.
    One down, two to go.
    "What kind of flying saucer is this? It looks like a junky airplane."
    Nightshade shrugged. "If this can get us all where we want to go quickly, I'm not going to complain." He marched back to the cockpit. "I need you to pick up two more passengers."
    "Do you have any way to beam someone up instead of making a really long staircase?"
    "What you means the beam somebody above?"
    Nightshade interpreted.
    "I mean, you take apart someone's atoms and you somehow transport them onto the ship and reassemble them here. Like on Star Drake."
    "Dismantling your molecules you would move to die. Us n'let us not have this technology. We can send down a double poppet, in order to waive the others, if you prefer."
    The hybrid frowned. "A double poppet? What does that mean?"
    "It is a ship that door the passengers."
    "Okay. Do that."
    "Where other passengers are its?" The blob gestured to the slime covered eyepiece.
    Disgusted, he wiped the lenses the best he could, peering through the lenses.
    He moved the viewer sideways and back, until he spotted a big hairy shape on a box. He twisted his lip at the strangeness, but moved on. With a few turns of the crank, the viewer came across a rat with its paws on its hips. The hybrid could see his things scattered all over the ground.
    "There. Send the...poppet down there."
    The blob poked some buttons, and the ship rumbled again. Through the viewfinder he could see a silver egg descend in front of the rat, a large hole opening on the larger end.
    The rat just stared at it.
    "What happens?"
    "He's not going in. How do I use your megaphone thing?"
    "What understands a (UNTRANSLATABLE MEGAPHONE) which I am not. Huuuh?"
    "The thing that amplifies your voice. How do I use that?"
    "Let me you strengthen."
    He heard buttons clicking.
    "Now it speaks."
    "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "Templeton!" Distracted by the booming echo of his voice sounding through the forest, he faltered a bit. "Uh, that thing is safe. Get in so we can go."
    He saw the rat waving his arms and yelling something, then he and the big hairy shape gesticulated at each other for a few minutes.
    Annoyed at hearing himself breathe, Nightshade poked the blob in attempts to get its attention. His finger went right in.
    "Hey," his voice boomed. "I'm done with the...speaker, whatever. Shut it off."
    The loud breathing stopped.
    He saw the rat bending over the grass, putting various items back in the chest. Once done, the ape hefted the box into the egg.
    The rat went in, but the ape balked at the entrance. More gesticulating.
    The rat pushed on the ape's butt, but it only sat down. Templeton crossed his arms, muttering something. He put a paw on his hips, searching the grass some more.
    Bongo covered his eyes with a large hand, stumbling into the egg. When the rat turned around and saw what had happened, the ape loped back out. More mad waving.
    After a brief staredown, Bongo turned around and got back in.
    The egg sealed up, zooming up into the air.
    Moments later, Nightshade heard the sounds of arguing and angry grunting.
    "CONTAMINATION HAZARD," he heard the robot saying. "POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS LIFEFORMS IN DOCKING CONTAINER. PLEASE PROGRAM SYSTEM WITH OWNER NAME. IT IS 12:00 AM, JANUARY FIRST, 2000. VERIFY IF CORRECT."
    "Can you shut that robot up?" Nightshade asked of the blob.
    The blob pushed a button and the robot became quiet.
    Wham!
    "Ung bungle."
    Looking back down the corridor, Nightshade could see the ape pushing the robot aside, into the wall. It squeezed past, with the rat following behind.
    "There he is!" Templeton exclaimed. "And it looks like everyone's here!" He scurried to the cockpit. Once he stood behind a seat, he held out the shiny device they'd found in the owls' armory. "Bongo was playing with this, in case you hadn't guessed. It seems to be some kind of remote control."
    The blob punched a button. "It is (untranslatable). It is the reason why I slumber of my weak. I enjoyed good hundred year rest in hole."
    "Gross!" said Templeton. "What is that thing?"
    "I think...he may have been sleeping in a cave for one hundred years."
    "Great. We're being piloted by cave slime."
    "Ungh ungh ook ook bumpy bunk."
    "I don't care if it's edible. I'm not going to eat it."
    "Gumble."
    Melissa picked a feather off the rat's shoulder. "Where'd this come from?"
    "I dunno. Maybe it was in the ship from before?"
    "Boogie oogie ump."
    "Right. We don't know what kind of creatures use this thing...Besides this lump of goo."
    The blob gurgled wordlessly in response.
    "Well, I guess we've got a spaceship. What's the plan now?"
    "Let's fly home," said Melissa.
    "Um, we came through a movie screen."
    "Not me. I climbed inside this box thingy."
    "Well we didn't. Anyways, I really don't think we can just `fly home.' We don't even know where home is."
    "But aren't we on another planet or something?"
    Templeton shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. This could be a parallel universe, or we might have traveled back in time. But then again, we're in a movie, so I'm not sure we can just go out in space or get in a time machine and zip on home. Frankly, if this thing can just take us places in seconds, I'll be happy with that...content, I mean."
    Melissa sighed, putting a paw on her hip.
    The blob's head flap turned to face Nightshade. "Waiting on your arrange, captain."
    Shaking his head slowly, Nightshade turned to the blob. "Okay, look. We came here from a city called Gardenia. Would you, by any whim of fate, happen to know where that is, in relation to this place?"
    "I weet what does not mean that," said the blob.
    "Great," Nightshade muttered.
    "Ask him if he can go to Gardenia State or Norfork."
    "I don' t know this."
    "Arch Town?"
    "No."
    "Flummox?"
    "No, galaxiakes coordinates I request."
    "I don't have any."
    "Spibanente, is a great galaxy. To me it is necessary more than information."
    "Goes to the place the green monkey is spoken which concerning," said Bongo.
    "What green monkey?" Nightshade and Templeton said at the same time.
    The rat gawked at him. "You can understand him?"
    Nightshade shrugged. "I've got a universal translator."
    "Oh."
    "Where red light breaks on mountain high, and arrows shower down, the secret of your existence lay concealed within the ground." the ape grunted.
    Melissa stared at Nightshade. "What's he saying?"
    "It's just...a line from a nonsense poem someone told me a long time ago."
    "Enlighten us."
    Nightshade repeated the verse.
    "I remember to fly above d'a place which match this description." The blob pushed some buttons, bringing up a topographic map of a mountain. "I saw hunters pragdizerend with arrows and exploring indicated on a lot of arrow points."
    "we can come back here, right?" Templeton asked.
    "I imagine this thing can fly anywhere," said Melissa. "Why?"
    "...Just...curious."
    "Uh huh." The mink sounded skeptical.
    "Methinks you are a trifle above merely curious," said Bongo.
    Nightshade stared at him.
    "Be honest. We are both aware of what is transpiring."
    Nightshade raised an eyebrow.
    "Did I say something that disturbs you?"
    The hybrid shook his head. "No. Never mind." I guess it has an easier time translating gorilla speak.
    Melissa stomped up the console, clearing her throat. "Engage."
    A moment later, a white body slammed into Nightshade, and he into a big black one, which slid down the corridor.
    Once the sudden G forces lessened, Nightshade brushed himself off, standing up.
    "I didn't think that would actually work!"
    Nightshade hurried to the cockpit. "What just happened?"
    The blob pointed to the map of the mountain range. "We arrived."
    Concealed beneath the ground... Nightshade looked at the display, then at the blob. "Can you scan for caves?"
    "I do not have entrance to this functionality."
    "How can that be? You said you found arrowheads!"
    "I can do exploring the surface level only."
    "Then...explore the surface level...with your computer. Do a surface scan. Try to find a cave or a mine entrance. Anything."
    "Ask him to scan for anything unusual."
    The blob pushed a sequence of gray buttons next to the monitor. "Jan object in the detail 14068 have found." The blob pulled the viewer down, offering it to Nightshade.
    Looking through the eyepiece, the hybrid could see a group of muscular pointy eared purple creatures carrying firewood.
    "I don't see a cave."
    The blob adjusted the dials and lenses, and the viewer zoomed over to a circular copper colored object with a familiar honeycomb shaped logo etched into its rusting surface.
    "What is it? What are you looking at?"
    Nightshade let the rat take a look.
    "What is that? A dome? Some kind of lid?"
    "I should very much like to take a gander," said Bongo.
    "I'm sorry, bud. I really don't think there's room, and I don't want to mess up the settings."
    "That is most unfortunate. I am sorely disappointed.
    Funny, Nightshade thought. All I heard was a sigh before the translation.
    "Does that symbol mean anything to you?"
    "I don't know," Nightshade said. "Maybe nothing; maybe everything."
    He turned to the blob. "Set us down. We're going to talk to these people. And you're going to be our voice," he added, handing the translator to Templeton.
    "Approval." The blob pulled a lever, clicking a series of buttons on a nearby keyboard.
    Nightshade felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as mountains rushed past the window.
    "Uh..." The rat stared at the device. "What's this?"
    "A translator."
    "Okay?" After holding it up to his eye a second, he rubbed the earwax off on his shirt, sticking it in his own ear.
    Nightshade heard a crunch, then everything shook for a brief moment.
    The blob gurgled.
    Templeton stared at the hybrid. "Did you say something?"
    Nightshade shook his head.
    Gurgle, gurgle.
    "I think we'll be okay, Mr. Slimy."
    Blurb, blurblblurb.
    Templeton took a deep breath. "Well! Should we go?"
    Melissa hopped into the hallway. "Let's."
    Looking nervous, the rat scampered past the mink, wandering aimlessly.
    Melissa pointed an opening on the wall. "I think the door's over here."
    He turned around, scampering in that direction.
    Nightshade followed the two out the hole and into a dry, rocky plain covered in thin grass. He didn't see the dome.
    "That thing must be on the other side," said Templeton.
    "Ungh ungh oop oop ungh."
    The rat gawked at Bongo. "That was flawless! Since when did you go to grammar school?"
    "Gubble bump booloo?"
    "I think it must be this thing in my ear. I heard something different a second ago. No wonder he was staring at you."
    "Ooba?"
    "It's a translator. Kind of like what they have on Star Drake."
    "Oh."
    Templeton looked left. "Now where's this...ulp!"
    "What's she doing here?"
    The next moment, Nightshade saw feathers everywhere, and the rat was gone.
    "Where'd he go?"
    Melissa pointed left. "That way. I think she's going to try eating him again."
    Nightshade flapped his wings, scanning ahead with his sonar.
    He found the snowy owl crossing the plain, over a wide crater-like depression in the soil. She had the rat clutched to her chest, blubbering something to him.
    "I would but I can't!" Templeton cried. "I have a job! I have relatives! Someone will miss me!"
    She muttered something.
    "Well if that's the case, it shouldn't matter!"
    She muttered something else.
    "Look, if we find something that can really send us home, we'll talk about this! Right now we don't even know. It could be nothing! If it's nothing, we'll have plenty of time to, er, uh, actually be friends, and that sorta thing. But right now we want to check something out and see if we can, er, I mean, I want to at least see if I can get my friends home. We can talk about us once we get to that point." (Does Nightshade say something?)
    She kept flying.
    "C'mon. Take me back to that silver thing. I'll let you supervise, okay? You can watch and make sure I don't disappear!"
    Nightshade heard her sigh and blubber something, her voice taking on sort of a squeaky tone.
    "All right all right. I'll let you know every step of the way. Sheesh. It's like you really think we're going to find something and we're not even there yet."
    She sniffed and said all right. She banked left, turning back towards the spaceship.
    The hybrid found Melissa and the others standing around the opposite side of the craft, staring at a large rusted metal structure resembling a barracks. The mink stood in front of a rivet studded security door, hands on her hips. He flapped down next to her, searching for a handle. He saw none.
    "It's locked," said Melissa. "I think it needs a card key or something. Know any nursery rhymes about card keys? King Kong here tried to pull it off its hinges, but it wouldn't budge."
    "Did you say card keys?"
    Nightshade looked around to see Amo extending her neck, nuzzling her beak into the rodent's neck.
    "Stop it." He pushed her away. "Please."
    "You know you like it." But she let him go.
    "Ahem. There was a metal card glued to the bottom of that little box. Bongo must have knocked it loose when he scattered everything."
    "Foorey."
    "That diction is completely unnecessary."
    "Huh?"
    "Forget it. Forget it. Go get the chest."
    Angry grunting.
    "Okay, okay. Pretty please with sugar on top. `Bongo is the greatest gorilla in the universe.'"
    Bongo stomped back in the craft, coming back with the chest.
    After a big of rummaging, Templeton brought out the card, showing it to Nightshade. "See?"
    Nightshade stared at it. The card had the faded honeycomb logo, and a series of holes punched in it. With a shrug, he stuck it in the card slot.
    The slot, corroded with rust, refused to accept the card at first, but after he jiggled it around a little, it went in, where it got stuck. He tried pulling the card back out, but it wouldn't budge. In frustration, he hit it with his palm, driving it in further.
    "Well that's one way to do it!" said Melissa.
    Nothing happened.
    "Great," she sighed. "Now the door is locked and we've got a stuck key."
    Templeton groaned. Nightshade saw him resignedly letting Amo purr into his shoulder.
    "Plan B?" Melissa asked.
    He frowned, staring at the card slot.
    "Don't even mention Plan B. I'll never get her off me."
    "Other than settling down and raising a family?"
    "Now why'd you have to say that?"
    Behind him, Nightshade heard purring and flapping sounds. "Stay put!" he growled.
    "We're not going anywhere."
    "Not yet," Amo giggled.
    Nightshade sighed, tapping his claws on the metal wall.
    "Maybe we could stick a sword in the crack or something."
    "No. It'll probably bend the sword." He stared at the door for several minutes.
    Melissa sighed and shook her head. "Let's go."
    Nightshade didn't move.
    Heavy sigh. "C'mon!"
    "If you want to go, I won't stop you," Nightshade said, the telltale red-purple sparks beginning to arc through his pelt. "But I'm going to follow this trail until I'm sure it's ended; it'll just drive me mad if I don't."
    Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he threw them to his sides. His fur flashed with light, and the crystalline armor appeared over his body. "You can try to find something to help me, or you can stay out of my way, but I am opening this door, one way or the other."
    With that, he placed a palm against the door and sent an electric current into the lock.
    Click. The structure let out a groaning, grinding sound as the door slowly creeped open. It got stuck a quarter of the way up the track, refusing to go further. Nightshade frowned, staring at the sliver of darkness that lay beyond the door.
    "Well, it almost worked."
    Nightshade planted a foot in the crack, attempting to squeeze his way in. It turned out to be too narrow, even for someone without wings. He grabbed the edge, pushing with all his might. The door only gave an inch.
    "Ungh ungh."
    Nightshade looked up and saw the gorilla pointing to its chest. With a shrug, he got out of the way.
    Bongo gave the door a brutal tug. The wall of metal zoomed across the track, slamming into the opposite slot with a deafening clang.
    Nightshade stepped through the doorway, peering into the dark. Not much could be seen. He sensed a closed narrow space ahead, no windows or exits apparent. To his right, he saw a tiny glowing circle that seemed to stare at him from the blackness.
    He heard Melissa edging in behind him, then heard noises as her paws slid across something rough nearby. "Where's the friggin' light switch! What kind of stupid place is this that has steel hand rails and carpeting but no lights!"
    "It looks abandoned," said Templeton. "But I'm not sure why that thing in the corner is glowing."
    The hybrid concentrated, causing his forcefield to appear. The crackling electrical energy illuminated the area, revealing a gray compartment with carpeted walls and a shiny silver door on the opposite end.
    "It's an elevator." The mink walked to the back corner, staring at the button. "Or maybe it's one of those doors like they have in video games. But then the hand rails wouldn't make sense.
    Nightshade stepped up to the door, getting a closer look. It definitely seemed elevator-like.
    "It's okay, Bongo! There's nothing dangerous in here!"
    "Ungh oop umble ump."
    "This gorilla diction is really aggrivating!"
    "Ooop grrr!"
    "It's not you, it's this thing in my ear. Is there some way to disable this thing, Nightshade?"
    "Not sure. I didn't try to turn it off."
    "All right. I'll just put it in my pouch."
    Nightshade felt the room drop a few inches as the gorilla stomped in behind him.
    "This is definitely an elevator. I just hope it can hold Bongo and not drop us into the basement!"
    Nightshade pushed the button, and he felt his insides shift slightly.
    He felt a gentle bump from beneath his feet, then he heard a bell, and his insides shifted again, the room lightening.
    "We're back where we started," Melissa complained. "This elevator sucks."
    Templeton pushed the button again.
    The elevator dropped, and a bell sounded. The metal door opened a crack, and Nightshade could see light.
    Bongo grabbed the sides of the door, pulling it open.
    Nightshade saw a laboratory full of tables covered in scientific equipment. Books, beakers, flasks, Bunsen burners, oscilliscopes, giant lighted magnifiers, robot arms, microscopes, test tubes, and an assortment of other intellectual bric-a-brac, including a thorougly useless Jacob's ladder.
    "Well, now what?"
    Nightshade stepped out, staring at his surroundings. He stood on a tile walkway extending for several feet in either direction. The walkway connected to paths in between the lab tables at regular intervals. To his left, he could see something like an industrial oven with a pipe running up to the ceiling. It seemed to be the type of thing you'd bake motherboards in.
    Melissa let out a sigh of relief. "Finally! Electricity! Let's look for a vending machine!"
    "What kind of strange magic is this?" said Amo.
    "It's called `electricity.' See those tubes up there? Those are flourescents."
    Nightshade heard the owl sniffing.
    "No, no. They're light bulbs, okay? It uses...lightning to make glowing gases!"
    The hybrid looked back in time to see the owl flinching, holding up her wings as if to shield herself from the lightning.
    "Wow!"
    "Anyone see a drinking fountain or a Pepsi machine?"
    "Not yet."
    Templeton pointed to a corkboard on the wall. "Hey! Look! It's a map!"
    
    Melissa walked over to it. "That's no good. It's just fire exits."
    "Better than nothing!"
    Looking at the map, Nightshade pointed to the upper edge. "I have to wonder what's in this alcove," he said, "that it needs to have an easily-accessible escape route right near it."
    "Right," said Melissa. "Sounds like a plan. How about we go straight up the middle?"
    "I see a bunch of cubicles and dividers in the way. We might get turned around and lost. It might be better to follow the wall."
    "Right or left?"
    Templeton shrugged. "They both look the same. Flip a coin?"
    Instead of doing that, Melissa walked down the path to the right. With a shrug, Templeton followed. Nightshade trailed them, looking about. The white concrete wall to his left had been decorated with signs, posters and pictures. The standard equal opportunity employer/minimum wage poster ("IT'S THE LAW!"), a framed picture of a beach ("Pooka Island"), warnings to shred confidential documents, a bulletin board full of job offers, 401K details, a motivational poster depicting a x rowing team ("TEAMWORK"), a `Microwave In Use' sign, a `NO CEL PHONE' sign and a water cooler. On the right he saw rows of identical looking workstations loaded with electronics and scientific equipment.
    Melissa stopped, staring at a recess in the wall. "No way! An Apple IIe? Seriously?"
    Templeton poked his nose around the corner, staring at it. "I bet those unlabeled floppies don't even have any games."
    "What? Are you going to play Oregon Trail or something?"
    "No, actually I wanted to play Below the Root or that game where you're driving a truck."
    "Dork."
    "You're calling me a dork? How do you know about it?"
    She chortled and shook her head, putting a paw on her hip.
    "Let's keep going, I guess."
    Nighshade stared at the computer.
    "Wait," he said.
    Melissa stopped, turning around. "What."
    "I got an idea. I need the chest."
    Bongo made a series of grunts.
    "I know, I know," said Templeton. "But we've got to try! You want to get home, don't you?"
    "Ungh huh!"
    "So we need to go back up!"
    The ape sighed.
    Nightshade saw the rat and the owl glance at each other, making a wordless agreement.
    "I don't even know what we're going to find," Templeton said with a shrug. And he walked to the elevator.
    He and Bongo stepped in, followed by the owl. A few seconds later, the door closed and Nightshade heard machinery whining.
    Melissa sat down on the end of a static safe workstation, idly kicking her feet. She picked up a rack of test tubes, staring at them. "Someone must have been here recently. Why else would the power still be on?"
    "Good question." He dragged a stool away from the workstation, pushing it in front of the Apple.
    He flipped the on switch, beginning the characteristic startup rattle.
    NO DISK IN DRIVE, it said.
    He scratched his head. On the desk below the monitor stand, he found a box of floppy floppies. He stuck one in the drive, pushing down the closing latch. It didn't do anything, so he flipped the power switch again.
    Rattle, rattle. An image slowly appeared on the monitor, the processor taking more than a second to load each line.
    He saw a side view of the complex. It appeared to show five floors, but only three had titles.
    
    [1=L1][2=L2][3=L3]
    [P=PHONE LIST][N=NEW PLAN DETAILS][L=LEGAL][R=ENERGY CONSIDERATIONS][S=MSDS INFO]
    He pushed 1.
    
    [ESC=MAIN]
    He heard papers rustling behind him.
    "These Material Safety Data Sheets say there are Charmanders and Pikii being stored around here. That and atomic power, acids and explosive gas. What the hell are they making?"
    "That's what I'm trying to find out."
    He heard the elevator whining again. After the machinery groaned for a few minutes, Nightshade heard the bell, and the doors cracked open again. A pair of hairy hands shoved it open the rest of the way.
    The ape heaved the chest into the hallway, then shoved it across the tile floor with an unpleasant scraping sound, leaving scratch marks in its wake.
    Once the chest got near enough, Nightshade popped open the lid, digging around for the box. Finding it under a heap of kapacuda, he brushed off the leaves and pollen pods, opening it.
    Though it looked a bit battered, he carefully lifted it out from under the casette tape. He took the other floppy floppy out, locking the cover closed on the beat up disk. Rattle rattle beep.
    "Intruders!" He heard a slimy voice shout behind him. "What are you doing here!"
    Nightshade spun around to see a gang of five foot tall purple octopus tentacles pointing bulbous yellow gun weapons at him and his friends.
    Melissa laughed.
    "What is so funny!" one of the tentacles shouted. They seemed to quiver like Jell-O every time they spoke.
    The mink only laughed more.
    "Grrr..." The tip of the tentacle squeezed on the bulb weapon, causing a piece of wall to explode.
    Melisa swallowed, falling silent.
    "Now, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here!"
    "I'm looking for Dr. Darren Black," Nightshade said calmly. "I need to speak with him regarding a matter of utmost importance."
    Nightshade saw a tentacle with a splotchy looking hide pull the trigger on its weapon. Amo screamed, falling to the floor.
    "No!" Templeton shouted, but he stayed put, paws raised in the air.
    "Your friend will be unharmed," said the tentacle. "I was just testing it out."
    The hybrid saw them muttering to each other.
    "Darren Black?" he heard one saying. "Wasn't he working on the Tor-Ven project?"
    "That was years ago! In another dimension!"
    The tentacles stopped talking, seeming to stare at him. They didn't move or talk for at least a minute.
    Melissa waved her paw at them. They didn't react. "This is odd!" She waved her paw furiously, then marched up to one, poking it with her finger.
    Templeton put his paws down, running to Amo's side. Nightshade watched as he put his head to her chest, listening to her breathing.
    The rat sighed in relief. "He was right! She's just unconscious!"
    Nightshade turned his attention back to the monitor.
    11/04/19XX: Subject 7868 Diglett/Nidorino/Snow beast/frog birthed by volunteer (withheld). Infant born w/o head. Suspect Seq 3759-897-1706-9566-5476-9030 to blame. (Withheld) was compensated for the loss, but I fear the psychological damage cannot be undone. Now limiting experiments to battle pets only for ethical reasons. Will only resume if proven safe.
    "Um, Nightshade?" said Melissa. "There's still a bunch of purple guys with laser guns pointed at us."
    The hybrid looked over his shoulder. The creatures still stood like statues.
    Clearing his throat, Nightshade looked to the one who seemed to be the voice among the guards. "What will happen to the rest of us?"
    The tentacles did not respond.
    "This is seriously creeping me out. Why are they stuck like that?"
    "Quaro can do mysterious things," said Amo.
    "Maybe so, but I'd like an explanation that will keep us from being shot when they start moving again."
    Nightshade frowned, returning to his reading.
    11/03/19XX: Subject 7867 Combined cells of Magicarp, frog, Mesprit. Lived for four hours. Subject 3836 still alive. Was given go-ahead for test on (withheld) a 23 year old wombat female. Addendum: Subject 7864 has died. Since this test was unrelated to the current specimen, will continue with project.
    11/02/19XX: Subject 7866 Magicarp, frog, Mesprit. Lived for four hours.
    _[DETAILS] Subject 7861 has died.
    _[DETAILS]
    11/01/19XX: Subject 7865 Combined cells of Weedle, Moltres and toad. Did not survive infancy.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/29/19XX: Subject 7864 Cat, Pikachu, Slugma and XXXX. It has not died yet. Will monitor.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/28/19XX: Subject 7863 Clamperl, Parrot, Gallade. Dead upon delivery.
    _[DETAILS]
    Subject 7859 has died.
    10/27/19XX: Subject 7862 Porygon-Z, wolf, Grimer, Banette. Lived for 2 hours.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/26/19XX: Subject 7861 Lairon and ape. Will monitor.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/25/19XX: Subject 7860 Haunter, fruit bat, Elekid. Died once outside Battlepet mother.
    _[DETAILS]
    Subject 7832, combination of Igglypuff, Siberian Husky, Parakeet, Grimer has just expired. Surprisingly long lived.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/23/19XX: Subject 7859 Mightyena, whitetail deer.
    _[DETAILS]
    10/22/19XX: Subject 7858 Siamese Cat, Wailmer. Lived for 6 hours.
    _[DETAILS]
    At the bottom of the screen, Nightshade saw a message reading "N= NEXT PAGE/P=PREVIOUS." He found that pushing the up and down arrows allowed him to put a cursor on a "details" box or "protected entry" box. Curious as to what the most recent entry was, he pushed the up button.
    11/06/19XX ...
    _[PROTECTED ENTRY]
    11/05/19XX ...
    _[PROTECTED ENTRY]
    Pushing enter at the "protected entry" yielded this prompt:
    ENTER PASSCODE:
    "Passcode..?" Nightshade growled. After thinking about it for a moment, he realized that few things came to mind. Taking a few seconds to find each letter, he typed out the first.
    "L... I... F... E."
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    Scratching his head, he tried "LIFEFORALL".
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    PHOENIX
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    "Here," said Melissa. "You're doing it wrong."
    She'd been leaning over his shoulder watching him, but he had been too absorbed in figuring out the program.
    He scowled at her. "And how do you propose doing it right?"
    "Animals don't use passwords related to their jobs. That's too easy to guess. You have to type something related to their personal life." She leaned over the keyboard. "This is Apple, so it probably isn't going to lock up after three tries."
    AIRHOCKEY
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    She rubbed her muzzle with a finger. "Ummm..."
    NIGHTSHADE
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    "I didn't think that would work. But since you seem to know him..." She sighed. "What do you know about this guy, anyway? Does he have a wife or kids or something? Pets? I think if we typed in a specific name, it would probably work."
    "That's no help to me, I'm afraid." Nightshade said. "I know he had at least one son, but I've long forgotten the cub's name. That's really why I'm looking for Darren now; I want to know if his son still lives." Going on a gut feeling, he looked at the keyboard. "Try 'heartstone'."
    HEARTSTONE
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    Nightshade sighed, resting his chin on his fist as he tried to come up with a good passcode.
    The mink pulled a stool up to the computer, typing another word.
    FOOTBALL
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    PUPPY
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    WIFE
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    BABY
    ERROR. INVALID PASSCODE.
    LOVE
    Beep.
    "What! It worked?" She poked her cheek. "Either someone was overconfident that nobody would ever use this relic, or there's more than one level of security."
    "It's an Apple II," said Templeton. "On a floppy floppy. How secure can it be?"
    She shrugged. "The only other thing I can guess is that he wanted it to be found."
    Nightshade leaned close to the screen, staring at the green text.
    I have studied hybrid embryos of many different species, examining them from every angle, over every stage of development, slowly learning the common elements between different species that made each hybrid possible. The results we have gotten from current tests is heartening.
    ...
    C. is an overbearing, selfish prig. His aims are for war, greed and violence. I will not stand up for this. I have hidden keys to the hydrofoil in the HPA inside the painting. If things get worse, I will take Selene and flee to our meeting place.
    "'HPA'?" Nightshade turned to Melissa. "You've been making the best guesses so far; got any clever insight on that one?"
    "Uh..." she stammered. "Wasn't that on the map? Hazardous Protocols Arena or something?"
    Nightshade had already taken a step away from the computer when he stopped himself. "Hang on... I'm not thinking straight. If Darren's already gone, than it's no help knowing where his keys were hidden; I need to figure out where this meeting place was." Turning his eyes back toward the screen, he continued perusing the file.
    Nightshade had already taken a step away from the computer when he stopped himself. "Hang on... I'm not thinking straight. If Darren's already gone, than it's no help knowing where his keys were hidden; I need to figure out where this meeting place was." Turning his eyes back toward the screen, he continued perusing the file.
    11/06/XX: We got an early start
    We're gonna have a ball
    We're going to ride the surf
    Yeah, and that ain't all
    Nothing is greater than the sand surf and salt air
    Under our boards just as soon as we get there
    Stack them in the sand when they're breaking just right
    Yeah we're surfing all day and we're swinging all night
    Vacation is here, beach party tonight
    I hate it when animals read over my shoulder. I cannot work with all this spying and prying. He has left me alone for the moment because I guess he thinks Frankie Avalon has something to do with inspiring scientific progress.
    I have been re-reading my notes, double- and triple-checking both the hypothetical and actual results. I have begun to see a recurring theme, namely sequence 5571711-9418398-8757156-6435569-2316489. It seems that changes to this particular sequence have an adverse affect on all the other ones, but removing the sequence itself is fatal. No. That is not quite right. The formula can be changed with positive results, and this is where the chromosomes can be merged together safely. The question is where to connect the sequence.
    C is now whistling the song. It seems my ruse has worked.
    ...
    The access code is 4748957. I can never remember this.
    Nightshade clicked the next line.
    11/07/XX: December rapidly approaches. One month before this will end. One month before we'll lose our funding, and any hope of having a child. It seems you can easily find grants for cloning corn and soybeans for breakfast cereal, but the moment you suggest combining the genetics of two intelligent animals, nobody wants anything to do with it.
    ...
    4:00 P.M. C. has acquired a strange specimen. A feline creature with blue-pink splotched fur that glows at random intervals. The creature is badly wounded from thugs, requiring the type of medical treatment not available at this lab. But I was not allowed to remove it. I tried to suture it the best I could, but the gunshot wounds in the chest...The creature suffered enough without me making butcher work of its heart. Besides, the anatomical structure does not resemble the ones I am familiar with.
    ...
    5:00 P.M. It screams in agony from its wounds, bleeding profusely. I gave it something for the pain. As it fell unconscious, I heard it rasping a strange word over and over again. "Tor-Ven..."
    11/08/XX: It is possible for some pairs of species to produce hybrid offspring. It follows that if the genetic fusion of the hybrid DNA and the growth of the embryo could be studied, perhaps I could replicate it for the two of us with in vitro fertilization. But when I presented the theory to the board at the laboratory where I worked, it was gruffly dismissed as unethical. To artificially create new life that they believed was never meant to be... they wouldn't be a party to it. I was denied funding. When I made another request two months later, my tenure was rescinded; in the next round of lay-offs, my name was at the top of the list. I lost my job, my house, my social standing; Selene and I ended up in a cheap apartment on the outskirts of town. And for most people, that would be it. I still had Selene's love, and we still had our hope, no matter how far-fetched it was, that we would one day see our child.
    I still have this dream, and come January, C. will have to force me out of the building. I will not leave until this work is completed.
    ...
    C. Has been threatening violence against me, and against Selene. He awoke me while I slept hanging upside down on my perch, calling me a lazy good for nothing fruit bat and that he'd kill me if he didn't get results. I once thought I would stay here, but if things become intolerable, I will load the hydrofoil with enough equipment to carry out the studies. Obviously, this is not ideal, but...
    ...
    C. has requested (actually ordered) that I use this "Tor-Ven" specimen in my experiments.
    Just then, the screen turned blank.
    Frowning, Nightshade flipped the computer on, then switched it back on. It rattled, beeped, then this message appeared on the monitor:
    DISK NOT IN DRIVE
    He flipped the drive latch open, and the disk was still there.
    He stared at the screen.
    DISK NOT IN DRIVE
    INPUT ___
    Nightshade ejected the disk, then stuck it back in.
    DISK NOT IN DRIVE
    INPUT ___
    With an aggravated hiss, he flipped the power switch, then stuck the disk back in.
    DISK NOT IN DRIVE
    INPUT ___
    "We're hosed," said Melissa. "That disk is toast. The only way we're going to fix it now is to shrink down to the size of a bug and tell all the little people on the plastic thingy to behave."
    "It was being jostled around a bit," said Templeton. "We probably dragged it through all kinds of magnetism, and who knows what kind of radiation that spaceship puts out. That and it's been in that armory for who knows how long. I think we're lucky that it worked at all!"
    "I had a music CD like that once. After you played it a second time, the tracks started falling off."
    "That's what you get for bootlegging."
    "Bootleg nothing! This was Diamondhead Razor!"
    At the desk, Nightshade couldn't see the rat's expression, but he could imagine it being quite blank.
    "It's a punk band."
    "Does `punk' mean technically inept?"
    "I'd like to see you try to publish a single."
    "Well, (ahem) anyways, it looks like we're out of luck. But I did find an ink pen and an interoffice memo, so I jotted down some stuff."
    "Like what?"
    "Like this `access code' thing he couldn't remember. Not sure what it does, but it looks useful. I also jotted down the DNA sequence number. Who knows?"
    Out of the corner of his eye, Nightshade saw one of the tentacles silently moving.
    "Careful, guys." As the telltale electric sparks began to run through his fur, Nightshade glanced pointedly at the tentacles . "I think we might be about to have some trouble on our paws."
    He heard a squealing sound, then saw a flash.
    Templeton let out a yell, falling to the floor.
    The snowy owl cried in outrage, taking to the air, but only a second later he saw another flash and she fell to the floor.
    With a growl, he activated his armor, leaping from his chair. A laser blast missed him, but he didn't succeed in dodging the shots fired by the other tentacles. The beams bounced off his armor, leaving red and brown scorch marks on the desks, chairs and walls.
    He opened his mouth, preparing for a sonic attack, but he never got the chance. One of the tentacles snapped its suction cup covered tip sideways, and he heard a clicking sound. A second later, a set of golden prongs popped out of its laser gun, and the lights at the barrel changed color. It fired.
    When the blast hit him, Nightshade felt like he'd been electrocuted. Somehow, the beam had penetrated his armor and redirected the energy to his chest. He collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest as he gasped for air in attempts to control his irregular heartbeat.
    "Nightshade!"
    He saw a flash, then saw something white fall by his side.
    He felt his heart stop.
    "Excellent!" one of the tentacles gurgled. "The disruptor ray worked better than anticipated!"
    "I figured that since it can stop an electric battle pet, it can stop him."
    "Will he live?"
    ***
    The otter's dreaming became stranger still. As his consciousness faded in and out he had a horrible vision about attacking strangers with the powers of a storm in a cave. Then something like a jade statue flew at him, slashing him until he had been almost certain he'd died. But then he saw a bright light, and something wet and soothing pouring upon him. He awoke with a start, and much coughing, staring at a sea of strange faces in a cave.
    "Where am I?"
    "I dunno," Epin replied. All he knew was he was in a cave, and apparently no one else did, either. At least he felt better. The plague that had been ailing him seemed to have almost entirely dissipated. He felt more warm and comfortable than he had in ages, despite his ruined and soggy clothing.
    Ruined and soggy clothing. Damien chuckled inwardly. Isn't this where I came in the other day? Calling up his ocean magic, Damien lifted the water away from his clothes and let it fall to his sides, leaving his clothes as dry as the day they'd been made.
    The otter watched the happenings in the cave with a curiosity one might have about a stranger's phone call that was too loud. The most important details he gathered were about food and going back to the relative safety of the Roost. Since he could recognize the faces, it appeared he was in the right world, so he figured it best to go back to where his friends, and possibly memories, were.
    The rabbit hopped up to him, waving hello. "Well, don't you two look familiar! How would you like to come back with us for a dinner at the Roost?"
    Epin snorted through his beak. "Sounds lovely, whoever you are. But aren't you the same jester that says he's lost and doesn't know where he is?"
    Blank stare. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but my owl friends are offering to carry you and your friend that way, unless you prefer to hoof it with me. How about it?"
    "I will be no man's burden." Damien closed his eyes and raised his hands, summoning up his wind power to lift himself up, hovering a foot off the ground. "Not while I can carry myself. But any who wish it may fly with me. The winds know their friends."
    The rabbit stared at him. "All right?...Would you still like someone to show you how to get back?"
    Damien jerked his head toward the rabbit, and subsequently fell roughly back onto his feet; the question had caught him by surprise, and he'd lost his concentration as a result.
    "Um... yes," the otter chuckled, realizing that he had no idea which way the Roost was from here. "If... you could just... point me in the general direction of the place, I'd be so grateful."
    "Right then." The rabbit hopped toward the exit. "Let's be on our way."
    Damien followed the rabbit through the cave mouth, out into a valley, with Epin, a gorilla, and an assortment of other creatures trailing after.
    "So," the rabbi said as he crested a hill. "My name's Go. What's yours?"
    "...River. My friend's name is Epin."
    "Oh. Right. I seem to remember seeing you around the Roost." Go hopped down the opposite side of the hill. "A friendly sort, I should think. Remind me again what brought you to visit us?"
    "A shipwreck, initially." River said. "And I may be needed back there, now that I think about it. If nothing else, we can salvage what lumber survived, and use it in the restoration of the Roost."
    "I had an uncle who was a sailor. When his head wasn't stuck in barrels of grog, the captain was sticking his drunken head in barrels of brine to get him sober."
    Damien laughed. "That sounds very like..." The otter put a heavy hand over his temple as a memory returned to him.
    ***
    Damien's brass collar chilled his neck uncomfortably in the open air, but as an ocean mage's apprentice, he needed to practice controlling his magic at every opportunity, and so the otter stood dutifully on the deck, ready to use the power he had been given in the defense of his home(he would ask his master later about learning how to warm the air).
    When the first of other ship's boarding party swung across in front of the otter, he launched a quick burst of wind to knock the intruder off his rope and into the water, where a subsequent geyser blast shot him back onto his own boat.
    The older rabbit who was standing next to him looked over as the surface of the ocean sloshed back into place. "You've got a real talent for that, pup," he said.
    ***
    Damien put his hand down as the memory faded, yet remained. "What ship does your uncle serve on?" he asked.
    "Did. He's passed on. Fell overboard with a head full of rum. Sad, really."
    "Right. What ship did he serve on?"
    "The Watusi, I believe. Why?"
    "No particular reason," was the otter's reply. "He just reminded me of a guy I knew on my boat."
    "What ship were you on?"
    "...Can you give me a minute?" Closing his eyes, Damien concentrated on the image of his ship, letting his mind drift past the rigging and the deck to the nameplate on the side of the hull. For a brief moment, it showed the word "Tempest" in clear letters. Then a silver mist picked up, obscuring the nameplate. When the fog cleared, the name had changed to "Moonlight."
    "I can't remember," Damien said. Shaking his head to banish the confused image from his mind, he turned to the platypus. "Hey, Epin? What was the name of the ship we were on?"
    "Why, the Tautog, of course! You really took a knock somewhere, didn't you? Called it Tempestuous some times when we were feelin' a bit jaunty. Before that we sailed in the Blancmange, and the Drizzle, I believe. Wasn't much more than a raft. Not sure if you should count the Bottleneck. All we did was snag tuna day in and day out."
    Somewhere in the back of his mind, Damien had a feeling that Epin was lying, but there was another thought there that said if the platypus wasn't telling the truth, there must be a reason for it.
    Unsure what to believe, the otter chose his words with a neutral mindset. "I must have hit my head harder than I thought," he said. "None of those names are ringing any bells."
    "Poor bugger," Epin said, shaking his head. "There's no helping that, is there?"
    They skirted a sinkhole, marching through a patch of thick weeds.
    "I know what will help!" the platypus cleared his throat and sang. "From Defkin harbor we set sail, and the wind was blowin' the devil of a gale, with the ring-tail set all about the mizzen peak, and the dolphin striker plowin' up the deep..."
    The otter paused a moment, then sang, "With a big bow wow, tow row row, Fal dee rall dee di do day..."
    "Well! It looks like you remember something!"
    Damien raised a hand near his muzzle. "I remember sounding a lot better playing my ocarina than I do singing," he deadpanned.
    "Bullocks! Since when do you need talent to sing a sea chanty? C'mon, lad..." He slapped the otter on the back. "The up steps the skipper from down below, and he looks aloft, boys, and he looks alow..." And they tau rau raued their way onward.
    He followed the rabbit up a steep hill, which dipped and climbed again, then down to a flat field of wild grass. He looked back to check on the others progress and saw everyone accounted for. They traveled in silence.
    As he crossed another large hill, he heard a scream. Looking up, he saw a white owl diving from the sky with a rat in her clutches. She whipped across the field, then fluttered up high in the air, giving her passenger quite a fright.
    Behind them, he saw a bat thing and two other owls. They soon flew past and were gone from view.
    "Is this the right way to the studio exit?" said someone behind him.
    Damien looked back and saw the other rabbit.
    "Hold the phone! Who's that you're following?"
    "His name is Go."
    The rabbit fell silent as he stared at him.
    They approached a corn field. The pods seemed to be a bit small, apparently due to it being early in the season.
    The actor rabbit was still staring at Go's back. "You think he resembles me a little bit?"
    Go turned around.
    "He does! He looks exactly like me!"
    "Who are you?" said Go.
    "I'm...Charlie. Charlie Ruffbottom. What are you, a talking mirror?"
    "I was about to ask you the same thing."
    "At any rate, this sort of thing ought to tear a hole in the space-time continuum."
    "Beg pardon?"
    "Never mind. Let's just go, Go."
    Go shrugged and they were off, squishing through a marsh at the edge of a lake, swatting flies and pushing aside cattails and crusty dead lotus pods.
    Roughly an hour or so later, they arrived at a wooded place where the owls had stopped to rest.
    "Would either of you care for some water?" the otter asked politely. With a quick gesture, he pulled the moisture from the air and condensed it into a moderately-sized sphere.
    His companions stared at him.
    "I'm game," said Go. "But what do you want me to do, lick it?"
    Damien smiled. "I suppose, if that's how you want to go about it." Pulling a smaller ball of water from the sphere, he froze it in place to about the size of a golf ball. "Of course there are easier ways to do it," he added, then popped the little ice ball in his mouth. Melting the ice from there allowed the otter to swallow a quick mouthful of the cool liquid.
    "All right," Go said with a confused expression. "Let's have some ice."
    So the otter sent a few ice cubes his way. His companions had some, too.
    The rabbit found some nuts and berries, and they were passed around as a snack. As they ate, Damien could see him staring at his double. "Where did you come from?"
    "Movie Lot C."
    Before this could be discussed in greater detail, Go said, "Did you know father?"
    "I don't know who your father is. Do I look like I know who your father is?"
    Go gasped. "It's worse than I thought!"
    "What?"
    "There were other wives?"
    "I have no idea what you are referring to."
    "Who is your father?"
    "He's Silo Ruffbottom, of course. Don't you read the newspapers?"
    The other rabbit's eyes narrowed. "Where did you come from!"
    "I told you! I came across from Movie Lot C in the fraggin' 2nd Paw Studios Complex! I'm an actor! Just because Luke improved the special effects and expanded the studio doesn't mean you can get stuck in your role and lose touch with all reality and give me the third degree about something you should already know! Who hired you to replace me!"
    "I do not know about that which you speak."
    "You're an actor trying to get my job!"
    "I am not part of any performing troupe. I was born in Alalart and have lived in Alalart all my life!"
    "You're mad, but that's to be expected in this business."
    "No, you're the one that's mad, with all this nonsense about an acting troupe and gigantic theaters!"
    "What you are is disconnected from reality!"
    "No, you're the one that's delusional."
    "Does Tom Barker know you've been swiping his crazy pills?"
    "Witch!" Go shouted.
    "Scab!" Charlie shot back.
    "Demon imposter!"
    "Lunatic!"
    And the two leapt at each other, clawing and biting and punching one another.
    "Stop this!" Stretching his arms as far as they would go, Damien brought his hands together. With a noise like a thunderclap, he sent a wide gale through the air that knocked both of the rabbits off their feet. Then, while they were unbalanced, the otter separated his hands, splitting the wind in two to push the fighters apart.
    "Now, both of you will get a grip," Damien said forcefully, "or, so help me, I will shave you bald!"
    The two brushed themselves off, staring at the otter.
    After giving Damien a hateful sneer, Charlie directed his glare back at his double. They locked eyes, their fur bristling. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer," Charlie spat.
    Go shrugged. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I suppose we should be going." He straightened his back, leading the gang to the end of the forest.
    At its end end, they found a corn field full of green corn that hadn't fully ripened. While crossing it, Damien happened to look back and notice that the ape and Charlie were missing.
    "Where'd they go?"
    The rabbit stopped walking, turning around to face them. "What's going on?"
    "We're missing two," said a jackal.
    Go frowned. "Not good." He put his hands on his hips, twitching his whiskers. "Do we know where they are?"
    "The other rabbit decided to desert us. The ape, however..."
    "Well, I don't mean to sound cold," Damien said, looking at Go, "but we do have more immediate concerns. The restoration of the Roost, for one..." Here he shifted his gaze to Epin. "... and the safety of our shipmates, for another."
    He looked from one to the other, then spoke again. "The rest of the crew might be amenable to helping out at the Roost, once their safety is assured; with our ship destroyed, they'll all need new homes. So, for the sake of efficiency, I propose we see to our shipmates, and then use the lumber from the ship to rebuild the Roost. Do I have a second on that?"
    Go shrugged. "I don't think there's a rush. We're not missing anything but dinner. Rebuilding is going to take time. But thanks for the idea about the boat." He paused. "Are your shipmates in trouble? Or just lost like the ape?"
    "I'm not sure," Damien said. "And that's why I'm worried about them. Even if they're all safe, they still have nowhere else to go. That boat, whatever she was called, was the only home some or most of us had ever known."
    "I'm not sure," Damien said. "And that's why I'm worried about them. Even if they're all safe, they still have nowhere else to go. That boat, whatever she was called, was the only home some or most of us had ever known."
    "Wow!" Go shook his head. "That's terrible!" He gnawed on his lip. "But I hate to leave animals behind. That gorilla is someone's friend!" He pounded one foot on the ground impatiently. "And they'll say he was under my care when they come looking for him!"
    "It's a lost cause," said the jackal. "I saw him vanish into thin air."
    "You suppose if the air were thicker he wouldn't have vanished?" Epin quipped, but the jackal was not amused.
    "So there's sorcery afoot, you say?"
    The jackal shrugged.
    "Did you check around the place where he vanished to see if there's a sinkhole?"
    "I was not about to do anything that dangerous, but I tell you, I didn't see a hole."
    Go frowned. "Do you know exactly where you saw him last?"
    "Not completely."
    "Well, take me back to where you you saw him last."
    The jackal shrugged, marching back to the approximate spot. They spent about ten minutes searching the area before giving up.
    "Well, let's go back to the Roost and let whoever know," Go sighed. And he resumed marching.
    They came to a swampy marsh and were immediately assaulted by swarms of marsh flies.
    The platypus opened its beak and gobbled a few, then spat them out. "Bleah! I've tasted better bugs."
    Damien pushed past a cluster of dead lotus plants, rattling the seeds. A pair of dragonflies scattered at his approach. They squished through the wet ground, shoving aside cattails. He heard an animal letting out an indifferent bellow from somewhere nearby.
    "What's that?" said Damien.
    "Probably a Naugha. You'd be better off walking than riding something that slow."
    A calico cat to one side of him cursed the flies, swatting at them with his tail and extended claws, but it didn't accomplish much. A zebra with a thick Kenyan accent berated him for making such a fuss about it. A group of five others trailed behind them, silently batting the air clear as they hurried through.
    The swamp came to an and, and they trod upon a road lined with fenced in enclosures, Kahodi and rat faced Naugha chewing the cud. They passed the houses of their owners, more enclosures, barns, fields, houses.
    Then they came to a big stretch of dirt, a dusty land, cracked and crumbling from dehydration.
    About ten yards in, the jackal shouted "Stop!" He put his paws on his knees, gasping for breath. "Let's rest. We've been walking and walking for...forever and I'm tired and starved. I can't go any further. It's too far."
    Go put his paws on his hips, scowling at him. "You picked a fine time to speak up! We were out by the houses where we could have asked some strangers for food and drink and now that we're out in the middle of nowhere you want to stop?"
    "Please. I'm tired."
    The rabbit sighed and shook his head.
    "Look at that gut," Damien heard Epin whispering in his ear. "Looks to me like he could use a bit of starvation. And a bit more marching."
    Go stared at Damien with an expression that seemed to say "You too?"
    "Don't give me that look," Damien laughed. "I've been working on a boat since I was smart enough to understand what work was. I've got hours yet left in me." He raised his voice slightly, projecting it for all to hear. "And I can provide a soothing breeze and a drink of water to any who require it, at any time. You need only ask."
    "It's been a long trip and we're all a bit frustrated." Go sighed, staring at the ground. "This is a right miserable place to rest, but I suppose we've all become a bit cranky. We'll rest here." After the futile gesture of attempting to dust a spot clean, he sat down.
    "I'll take some of that water," said the jackal.
    Damien tossed him a few ice cubes.
    "Can you use your powers to make food?"
    "Nope. Sorry."
    "Darn."
    They rested for a few moments, not saying much of anything to each other.
    Damien saw the jackal's beady eyes staring at him. He smiled pleasantly.
    "So," the jackal said. "I'm Burger. What's your name?"
    "River."
    "Do you do any reading, River?"
    "A little bit, now and then. Does reading music count?"
    The jackal sighed. "I don't know how to read music. I just like reading stories. My favorite is Methuselon. It's a story about this mouse that lives in a castle and he has to save it from an army of cats. I bet you think I'm weird for reading it, but some of my best friends are mice." He sighed, then blew a raspberry. "Can you make some food with your magic or something? I'm really hungry."
    "Lead me to my namesake," the otter said, "and I can pull as many fish as you want from the water. That's the best I can offer you."
    "Unless your namesake is "A Lot Of Dirt," said the rabbit. "You'd be better off getting off your duff and walking some more."
    After a bit of coaxing, and a bit more coaxing, and a lot more coaxing after that, Burger was on his feet, and they were on the march once more, leaving behind the dirt for a more pleasant looking field of wildflowers. About a yard in, the weeds got to be head height, and a few in Damien's party didn't find it pleasant at all. The jackal and cat broke into sneezing fits, and Epin complained of itching. Another few yards and they heard the sound of gurgling water, then saw a white glimmer through the wildflowers.
    Beyond this lay some shallow rapids. The black contagion seemed to have left the water completely, replaced by ribbons of ultra blue liquid. Minnows and other tiny fish darted around Damien's ankles as he stepped in, the jagged rocks making muffled crunching sounds as they shifted under his calloused feet.
    The cat and jackal complained about getting cut, but Go just told them to be quiet and keep going and they'd be out of it.
    The water rose to their ankles, and then their knees. Burger fell over sideways, drifting downstream with the current. This turned out to be simultaneously comical and pathetic because the water was shallow and his girth caused him to get stuck in the crotch of a fallen log, something that took him at least two or three minutes to extricate himself from.
    Once that drama had concluded, they reached a shore of dagger sharp rocks, crunched painfully across, then became dirt magnets as they crossed into the soil of a wooded area.
    Damien followed Go over a hillside covered in loose soil and past a dry stream bed, coming to the forest with the blackened trees. As they neared the remains of the Roost, Damien saw the gorilla sitting on its treasure chest.
    "Ahoy!" the otter called cheerfully. "What have you been up to all this time?"
    "Ungh orp oop ock ock," the gorilla replied.
    "He's a great conversationalist," said Epin.
    The gorilla shrugged, then cracked open the chest, rummaging through its contents. After tossing out a number of odd looking plants, a casette tape, a brass ring, and a potion, it brought out a glowing vial, stared at it a few seconds, then threw it out as well.
    "Look at him throwing everything out! Not much of a boatswain is he? I bet someone's going to be angry!"
    Damien shrugged.
    The gorilla brought out a silvery, shiny object covered in colorful glistening buttons, which captivated his attention for more than a minute. It grunted softly, looked around as if to see if someone were looking, then pushed a button.
    Damien heard something like an earthquake in the distance.
    The ape grunted excitedly, pushing it again. More rumbling. He kept pushing it. Bang bang bang bang bang bang. And then a rushing wind blew through Damien's fur and he heard a loud humming sound. He looked up to see something like a silver walnut hovering in the air.
    The ape glanced up, then let out a gasp. "Oooh-oh!" He scratched his head, pushing more buttons.
    Suddenly a silver disk shot out of the object, slamming into the dining hall of the Roost.
    "Oop!"
    "Whoa!" Damien cried, stomping up to the gorilla. ""Say there, mister! That thing looks dangerous! Why don't you let me have it?"
    The ape shook his head. "Ungh. Bungle."
    The otter tried to grab the remote, but the gorilla just knocked him to the ground with a movement that seemed easy as brushing dirt off his shoulder.
    Well, you can't say I didn't ask first. Directing his gaze toward the silver box, Damien concentrated on the condensation that had gathered over the surface of it. projecting his will into the water, the otter crystalized it, freezing the buttons in place.
    "Ooh! Ooh!" The gorilla cried as the control froze up. It juggled the device from hand to hand, waving its frostbitten fingers until the object dropped on the ground.
    The otter dove for it, but the ape picked him up by the scruff of the neck, snatching it out of his paws. Fortunately, the buttons hadn't thawed, so once the ape had dropped him, it went about chipping the ice away with its fingernails.
    The air suddenly filled with the sound of feedback, like that from a concert microphone. When the ape grunted in annoyance, it found its voice had been amplified.
    "Hi!" someone called out from the trees. "Hello! Greetings from planet Urdh!"
    The ape chipped more ice off the control. The object stopped, hovering in the air. He shook the device a few times and the humming decreased in volume. "Ungh oop ungle boop pop ibble bumpy!"
    "Hi!" the voice called. "Welcome to...Alalart!"
    The ape grunted a response.
    "You should meet my friend! He speaks your language!"
    "Oop umble?"
    "No. I said `he.'"
    "Umble gumble?"
    "Yes, I'm sure there's no females."
    The ape sighed, putting a paw on his hip.
    "Bongo, is that you?"
    Damien thought the ape looked a bit flustered, but didn't understand enough of the conversation to know why.
    "Uhgh-uh! Oople umble gump hoohah bumbkin."
    "You're a bad liar! Where are you?"
    "Ungh umpa!"
    Damien looked up. He could just barely see a rodent's face hanging over the edge of the platform.
    The ape suddenly hid the device behind its back.
    "I know you're hiding something! What have you got there?"
    Bongo held up the device, pointing to it. "Umb umble ooh ooh boogle bumpy gub!"
    "Well don't push anything else! You could have killed someone!"
    The ape's shoulders slumped. "Umph horrey."
    "Hold on! We'll come down and take a look!"
    "Umphkay." Then the ape slapped the device face down on the lid of the chest.
    The object's humming increased in volume, then slammed into the dining hall. The structure wobbled, threatening to collapse.
    "Closing time, people!" someone shouted. "Everybody out of the pool! Let's go!"
    A crowd of animals hurried out of the structure.
    "Bongo! Stop!" the rodent shouted.
    Now really flustered, the ape started poking buttons again, as if in a desperate attempt to make things right.
    The silver object popped out of the dining hall, causing it to collapse.
    The animals fled the platform. Damien could see a bat-like figure carry something white to an adjacent platform.
    Bongo pushed another button, and a green light appeared on the side of the craft. The otter could hear someone muttering for a few seconds, then the light went off. The bat shaped figure then flew to the silver object, somehow making a hole in the front section. It then disappeared inside, and the hole vanished.
    Bongo grunted, his big fingers hovering over a shiny red button.
    "Oh, no you don't!" Sending a burst of wind toward the remote, Damien knocked it away from Bongo's hand. "Every time you try to fix it, the thing does something worse. You touch that, it might blow up."
    It seemed the device had landed face-first.
    A green light appeared on the side of the craft. The next moment, Damien saw a green gorilla creature standing in front of him, gazing at nothing with its quadruple eyes. Its beak opened.
    "Where red light breaks on mountain high, and arrows shower down, the secret of your existence lay concealed within the ground."
    "Okay, I'll bite," the otter said. "Who's he talking to?"
    Bongo just shrugged.
    A second later, the beaked gorilla had vanished.
    The gorilla cast him a sneaky look, creeping towards the spot where the control had fallen.
    Damien frowned at him.
    Bongo gave him a sheepish grin, then turned his back on the controller.
    Assuming he'd finally gotten through to the ape, Damien relaxed a little, thoughts returning to the shipwreck.
    But then the gorilla stepped backwards, a suspicious grin still plastered on his face.
    Calling up a miniature tornado from beneath the control box, Damien lifted it into the air and pulled it to his own hand.
    "Oh no you jolly well don't," he said, grabbing the silver out of the air. "This thing has caused enough problems as it is; no-one's using it again until we find someone who knows how."
    Calling up a miniature tornado from beneath the control box, Damien lifted it into the air and pulled it to his own hand.
    "Oh no you jolly well don't," he said, grabbing the silver out of the air. "This thing has caused enough problems as it is; no-one's using it again until we find someone who knows how."
    The ape sighed.
    Damien heard rattling. Looking up, he saw a rope ladder unfurling, clattering noisily as it rolled open and hit the ground. The ladder wiggled as a gray shape clambered down.
    The otter heaved a sigh of his own, turning toward the direction of the sea. "I've still got work to do," he reminded himself. "I need to get back to the shipwreck."
    "So!" said Epin. "What's the plan now?...And how are we to get supper?"
    "As I said earlier," Damien replied, "find me a river, and I can pull out some fish. In the meantime, my plan is to go back to the beach, and see if I can recruit some more workers to rebuild this place. After the fiasco just now, we need all the help we can get."
    "Right. Well, I guess the river's that way, isn't it?" Epin pointed at a cluster of trees. "Or is it over on the other side? I can't seem to tell with this infernal humming."
    "Give me a minute." Lowering his eyes, Damien crossed his arms over his chest. A faint blue light shone from his fur as he opened his arms and raised his head, growing steadily stronger and brighter until the haze obscured his body entirely.
    The distracting noise made getting a good lead a bit difficult, but after trying for a few minutes, he managed to see a neon blue fog around a cluster of blackened trees. "There!" he said, pointing to it.
    He marched through the weeds, crossing a dirt mound. He could now hear the gentle hiss of water. They passed through a densely matted mess of vines, brush and tree branches, then slid down a dirt slope, arriving at a sandy beach framed with jagged rocks.
    "Ya know," said Epin. "It's a little late, but I've been thinking we could have just as easily swam up here. But the whole bit with that nasty creature made me hesitant to get in the water." His webbed feet stomped onto the sharp chert, his beak peering into the water. "Looks clean enough," he said, rubbing his fins together. "I think I'll brave it, maybe see if I can noodle up some catfish." He looked back, giving the otter a shrug. "Care to join me?"
    "I don't think that will be necessary," Damien said. Pointing his hand downstream, the otter sent a beam of the same blue glow into the water that he had just used to find it, slowly sweeping the seeking spell upstream
    Then, with no warning, he raised his other arm toward the river, and then up, pulling loose a sphere of water. Within the center of the sphere, a fish was trying to swim away, but it had nowhere to go; Damien kept moving the orb with the fish, to keep it contained.
    Epin put his fins on his hips. "Well that's not very sportsmanlike!" Staring at the orb a minute, he shrugged. "I'll get a few more." And he dove into the water, splashing around.
    "Uh...Templeton!" a voice boomed from above.
    The platypus's head popped out of the water. "Did you hear something?"
    "Uh, that thing is safe," said the voice. "Get in so we can go."
    Surprised, the otter accidentally let go of the spell. The sphere exploded, water and fish flying everywhere. Out of their habitat, the fish flopped helplessly on the sand.
    "What do you reckon that is?"
    "Offhand, I reckon it's trouble," the otter said. "But I don't think there's any need to panic, long as it doesn't come after us."
    "I've had enough trouble to last me a spell. I just hope it doesn't come this way." And he dove into the water.
    Epin pulled a 36 inch catfish out of the water. "Now there's a catch!" He paused. "Given any thought to how we're gonna cook these?"
    "You must not be very good with fire magics, if you're asking me how to cook fish," Damien said. "So that's one idea down the drain already. The next idea involves a choice: Between the Roost and the wreck, which would you say is quicker or easier to get to?"
    "I'd say the wreck, from here."
    Once more than enough good sized fish were caught, the two laid their catches on the sand.
    "We'll have to clean them, and I haven't brought a blooming thing with me to cut these with."
    Damien looked at Epin, an eyebrow raised.
    After a moment, the otter asked, "You haven't been paying much attention, have you?" Drawing water from the nearby ocean, he froze it in the shape of a knife. "Is this to your satisfaction?"
    "Right," said Epin. "You clean, I'll go find something to cook with, and maybe a tinder box."
    "Good idea," said Damien. As the platypus waddled over a mound at one end of the beach, he dove into the water, eyes searching for signs of other animals (and possibly crew) in the immediate vicinity. He felt drops of moisture dropping down on his head as he swam.
    He saw nobody on the opposite shore. A basket had been left on the sand, with a cloth over the top. He wondered if anyone would be coming back to get it. Cicadas buzzed from somewhere in the rushes.
    Dots of water pattered down from the sky, making tiny ripples in the river.
    On the side of the beach opposite the mound, there stood a log, and a cluster of weeds. Beyond it, several yards down, he could see a wombat with a head of short blonde hair, dressed in a white doublet and purple leggings. Behind it, he saw a big shaggy blue thing with four eyes and a proboscis.
    At first, Damien became alarmed, thinking the wombat to be in danger, but then the wombat spoke to the creature, and the creature took a flute out of its thick coat, playing a lively tune.
    Since they seemed to be coming his way, he drifted in the water, eyes searching woods surrounding the beach.
    Off in the bushes, a tan deer with narrow eyes scooped berries off of a bush with its black gloved hands, popping them into its mouth.
    Taking a chance, Damien called out to the wombat and the blue flutist. "Ahoy there! Lovely bit of music, that!"
    The wombat padded over to the shore. The music stopped. "What's that?"
    "I said, nice music!"
    The blue thing nodded, making appreciative warbling sounds.
    "He says thank you!"
    Damien climbed onto the shore, dripping wet.
    "And isn't he handsome," she said with a smirk. "It's a shame I had you rigging up the mast and swabbing the deck all the time. I bet you're glad you don't have to do that anymore, aren't you?"
    "Not really," Damien said. "I mean, I'll grant you that it wasn't the most glamorous job, but it needed to be done. And it gave me a reason to feel useful; that's something, at least."
    Looking very pleased with herself, she said, "That's exactly what I wanted to hear!" She slapped him on the butt. "Now go get me some firewood!"
    "Excuse me?" Damien asked. There was no accusation in his voice as he turned toward her; only confusion. "Up until now, I have been simply listening, in the hopes that you could fill in some of the remaining gaps in my memory, but I do not recall such treatment as..." here, his hand strayed toward his hip "...that, accompanying a superior's order. And I would perhaps better understand if you were to remind me who you are."
    "I'm Wanda," she said. "I'm the captain." With an idle wave of her silver-brown paw, she caused a rock to fly up and skip across the water without even touching it.
    "Indeed?" Damien thought back. "Then perhaps you can tell me the meaning of the word 'skullsong'? I found it carved into one of the cabin walls while I was searching this wreck for survivors." He shuddered as he remembered the one female who'd spat the word at him with such sheer rage.
    "`Skulls sing no songs,'" Wanda shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
    However, the blue creature looked startled. It turned and ran away.
    "What's gotten into him?" said Wanda.
    "Methinks he knows more than he wants to say." Damien's fur began glowing green as he focused his energy into the air around him. "Sheathe these feet in the driving gale; make swift these legs o'er land I sail!" With the wind around him pushing him forward, Damien launched himself around the fleeing beast, cutting off his escape with ease.
    "Start talking," he said, stepping toward the creature. "I don't want to hurt you, but I do want that information."
    The creature only made frantic whistles, clicks and warbling sounds as it cowered in terror.
    "He's a Shrednik," said an Asian-American sounding female voice. "Good luck getting something coherent out of those noises."
    The creature made an offended clucking sound.
    Damien looked up from the creature to see a long horned gazelle in a silk robe standing next to a tree.
    "You might try talking to Burger. He is the only one I know who speaks his language."
    "Okay..." Damien took a brief moment to glance around. "So which one's Burger? Is he near?"
    "Not sure," said the gazelle. "But I know he's a fat slowpoke, so he shouldn't be too difficult to find. Just listen for someone whining and complaining."
    Damien's mind flashed back to the male who had protested against being rescued. "Would he happen to be a bulldog, by any chance?"
    "Bulldog? Well, he is a canine, but he's more like a jackal. A fat jackal." She paused. "I think he might still be back at that horrible cave."
    Despite wanting the information this creature had, the idea of going back to that place made Damien recoil, and he needed a moment to steel his resolve before he spoke. "Hold him here," he said. "I'll be back as soon as I can find the man."
    Damien concentrated, and his pelt glowed green, as he felt the familiar weightlessness of being lifted by the winds. "I shouldn't be long," he said, even as he rose into the sky for bird's-eye view of the terrain. To aid his search, he also called on passing zephyrs to carry sounds from the ground to his ears, listening for complaining as he'd been instructed to do.
    Catching an interesting sound, he passed over vacant shores scattered with weeds, driftwood, and the occasional chunk of boat, eventually arriving at a beach where a female bat and a Tasmanian Devil in a dress stood around a wooden boat carved out of a tree trunk.
    A couple humanoid creatures with no fur sat on the rocks next to the boat, discussing something with a fin headed dinosaur in a blouse and harem pants.
    Perhaps one of them has seen something of Burger. Concentrating on the winds, Damien called up a stream of air from below, carrying the sound of conversation from these two groups up to his own ears.
    "...I heard I could get help from the brotherhood of Cordero, so I went up to the Roost to find this lady named Nateela, but when I got there, these monsters had set fire to the place." The voice faded and came back in. "I saw the animals putting out the fire, then I saw the monsters dying everywhere...I climbed out of the cave, and that's when the beast saw me. I...tripped and the thing caught up with me and attacked me. It had unbelievable strength and, and, its eyes glowed with this cold red light. I've never seen anything like it. It nearly beat and clawed me to death. The next thing I know, I'm here with my old friend."
    The girl chuckled. Damien noticed she had on strange clothing, odd street clothes like he'd seen at the "movie studio" he'd seen. Unnaturally perfect looking blue pants made of something resembling mast material, colorful, shiny moccasins, and a tunic dyed with a bright color of a caliber reserved for kings. The boy had similarly fine clothing, though they seemed to have been ripped by some wild animal.
    "The Huruts are gone, honey," said the Tasmanian devil. "You must have been attacked by one of the last ones."
    "Ms. Freak is right" said the bat. "There's been a change in the water. We only had to drink it and we recovered from the sickness."
    "The sickness? Huruts? What are you talking about?"
    "Where have you been? Everyone around here has been getting sick! You start with these flu-like symptoms, then you completely lose your mind..."
    "I've seen the change happen," said the dinosaur. "They turn green, then they become deformed, horrible beasts. Huruts."
    "But the water has been curing them."
    "The simple fact of the matter is, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. Unless someone hasn't drunk the water."
    "Of course, I've never heard of them having glowing red eyes."
    "It wasn't green," the boy said. "It was brown and covered in hair, like a mammoth, but it walked on two legs."
    Ms. Freak frowned. "That's not good, honey. I don't know what you're talking about, but it scares me."
    Damien saw the bat glance up at him, so he hid himself behind a mist.
    "Okay!" said the girl. "So now we really do have to leave, when is a good time for us to leave?" She was glancing at her companions with a helpless look.
    "Honey, we don't have anywhere to go," said Ms. Freak. "Ever since the ship crashed, we've basically just been camping out by the shore. Many of us want to go out to the ocean again, but we'll have to find a new charter. The ship is nothing but a scattering of wood on the bottom of this river. We were going to take this boat up to a big sea city and find a new charter. Isn't that right, Peapod?"
    The bat nodded.
    The girl stared at them in silence. "How long will it take us to get there?"
    "More than likely, it should take us about a week, possibly four days if the waters are swift enough." Her tone was confident, but Damien thought she looked worried.
    "Then I'll will get food and enough water to last us three trips over!" The girl jumped up and shouted in triumph
    The boy jumped up too. "I'll help her, i mean two of us will get things done faster right?"
    Ms. Freak put her paws to her hips, looking frustrated. "I take it you two have never ridden in a canoe before. If we capsize, that food's going to be everywhere. The plan is to get to a town swiftly as we can, and that means reducing weight."
    The bat snorted.
    "Is there something funny, Miss I-Look-Like-An-Exploded-Pea-Pod-Body?"
    "Oh no." Peapod held her paw over her mouth. "I think I've come down with a cold."
    "That's what I thought!" She shifted her left paw higher. "What I'm saying, honey, is that we'll save time living off the land. Until someone invents some kind of white container made of a floaty cork-like substance that causes damage to the ozone layer, we're better off not loading the thing with mushrooms and fish and meat, and onions and, and..." She wiped drool off her mouth. "Is supper done yet?"
    "I'm not sure, Ms. Freakishly Large."
    The Tasmanian devil held out her paw, which began to glow and sparkle. "Would you like to get a `freak' jolt of lightning, Miss Can-I-Have-Some-More-Potatoes?"
    "Only if you want the camp to see a showing of your extra large bloomers!"
    Damien saw a flash, then heard the crackle of static. The next moment, the bat had an Afro of electrically charged hair.
    "Oh ouch." Peapod rolled her eyes. With a wave of her paw, she created a bubble at the base of Ms. Freak's dress, and a yard long hologram-like illusion appeared in the air, displaying an enlargement of the dull purple fabric.
    Ms. Freak self consciously pulled her dress taut to prevent any further invasion. "Don't you dare! I'll do you more than give static cling!"
    "Must you two behave like children?" the finned dinosaur harrumphed.
    "She gets like this when she misses a meal."
    "Look who's talking, fish monger!"
    "If you two don't settle down, I'll tell the captain and she'll come up with something worse than dangling you from the mast again!"
    The Tasmanian devil crossed her arms indignantly. So did the bat.
    "So who is coming on this trip?" The girl asked.
    "It's just going to be these two rotten apples, I'm afraid," said the dinosaur. "It's their boat."
    "But first, supper," said Ms. Freak. And so she hobbled her way up the beach with her paws on her hips. Peapod and the dinosaur followed her.
    At that moment, the boy belched fire. The girl turned just in time to see her sleeve catch fire. She let out a shout of surprise, waving it around, which only made the fire grow larger.
    "Sorry!" The boy pounded on her sleeve and the fire eventually went out. "They weren't kidding about the belching!"
    The girl stared at her sleeve, where there was now a big hole. "Wonderful."
    And then the group marched on up the beach.
    Further down the beach, in the opposite direction, he saw a large fat shape sitting on a log, two spotted flabby arms supporting a plump, spotty canine chin that scowled into the water.
    Letting himself drift to the ground, Damien approached the canid. "Something up, pup?"
    "Oh hi Damien," said the jackal. "Got any food?"
    The otter shrugged. "Not on me."
    "Well that sucks." He stopped staring at the ground, standing up. "Hold up! Why am I even talking to you!" He stood up, backing away. And then he cowered, raising his arms to shield himself. "Don't hurt me! Please! I'll do anything you want!"
    "What did I do?"
    "Is this some kind of joke? You know full well what you did!" He shielded himself as if preparing to receive a beating.
    "...No, I really don't," Damien said. "Look, I just need you to translate some creature's speech for me; that's all. I have no intention of hurting you."
    The jackal jumped over the log he'd been sitting on, running into the forest at a speed that seemed almost fast. Almost.
    Damien rolled his eyes, a subtle hint of boredom creeping into his voice as he spoke. "Sheathe these feet in the driving gale, make swift these legs o'er land I sail."
    Responding to his spell, the winds carried him quickly forward, setting him down in front of the fleeing jackal.
    Burger cowered again, holding up a shaking paw. A feeble blue glow spread out from his palm. "D-don't make me use my power! I-I'm warning you, I'll use it!"
    Unafraid, the otter stepped closer.
    A multicolored cloud of butterflies burst from the jackal's hand, obscuring Damien's vision. When they dispersed and vanished into smoke, he seemed to be gone. However, after a careful squinting into the bushes, he noticed a fat, lumpy shape hiding behind a cluster of weeds.
    He took to the air again, landing behind him. When the jackal saw him, he nearly jumped ten feet in the air. "Stay away from me!"
    "I'm not going to hurt you."
    "That's what you said last time!"
    "And what happened then?" Damien asked.
    "I dunno. It was some kind of spell, and it hurt me in places I don't even want to talk about. You should know. You cast it." He cowered again.
    A confused looked came over Damien's face. "I don't know any spells like that... Do I?"
    "All right," Burger sighed. "What do you want me to do now?"
    Shaking his head, he addressed the jackal. "I don't mean to be rude, but the information I require may yet prove vital to a creature's survival; there really is no time to waste."
    "Shoot, if you're here with me instead of over there, he should be safe!" And he walked no faster.
    Damien rolled his eyes. "Tell me something, Burger; have you thought this through? Clearly, you believe me to be dangerous, and yet you make no effort to aid me in keeping my patience. Given the level of sheer power at my command, do you really believe that's wise?"
    "Can't do any worse than you already did. Besides..." It looked like he were about to say something that would have gotten Damien further annoyed, but didn't say it. "I'm going as fast as I can!"
    "I saw you run pretty fast into those bushes a few moments ago."
    "That's because I was scared, and it really wore me out, okay?"
    "Well, in that case..." Damien's pelt glowed green as he concentrated. "I see in my mind a point of land; arise, oh wind, at my command."
     Answering his call, the wind grew suddenly stronger, blowing hard around Damien and Burger both. The otter had to raise his voice to finish the spell, shouting over the sound.
    "Tunnels and funnels and gales of air, take us now from here to there!"
    With this, the winds formed tornadoes around each of them, lifting them off the ground and carrying them swiftly forward along their intended path. They swooped through the air, past the shore where the rough canoe now stood abandoned, and down to the beach where the captain and the blue thing stood.
    "Alright, Burger," Damien said, gesturing lightly at the blue creature. "Translate this guy's speech for me, and you earn your freedom." The otter turned to blue thing. "Once again... what do you know of Skullsong?"
    In response, the creature let out a series of angry honks, bleats, growls and whistles.
    "What did he just say?" said Damien.
    Burger shrugged. "Just a lot of cussing and swearing."
    Damien smirked. "I suspected that, but is he giving any particular reason as to why I'm being cussed out, or is he just insulting me for its own sake?
    Burger shrugged. "I'm not a mind reader."
    The otter saw the creature's eyes narrow, then he heard it piping a tune through its proboscis. The next moment, Damien felt the ground rumble beneath his feet and all of a sudden he got blasted with a bowling ball sized clod of sand and rocks.
    When the dust cloud cleared, it looked like the creature had begun hyperventilating, and he heard it piping a tune that sounded like something from King Crimson.
    "What's he saying now?"
    "He's not communicating right now," said Burger. "He's just going to his happy place."
    "Grrrrr... I need that info..." Taking a moment to calm himself, Damien looked at Burger. "Perhaps you can talk to him; certainly nothing that I'm doing is getting me anywhere."
    With a shrug, the jackal let out a series of whistles and clicks.
    The creature merely replied with a couple angry music notes.
    The otter heard the sound of a thunderclap, then someone knocked him in the air, a pair of brown paws in sleeves that looked like his grabbing at his throat.
    Without stopping to think about it, Damien quickly shoved his own hands between those of his attacker and pushed outward, summoning forth a gust of wind to knock the assailant away.
    Although he pushed outward with all his might, his attacker didn't release his grip, and when he summoned the power of the wind, he found himself being blasted with a gale of equal force.
    The next moment, he found himself blasting backwards through the air like a misdirected rocket, then, after a few seconds of lightning fast free fall, a wall of icy cold water exploded around him.
    The pair of brown paws grabbed at his neck again, pinning him to the gravel bed beneath the river.
    Taking a chance with this strange foe, Damien centered his thoughts and pushed a hand outward, pointing upriver. Then he swung his hand forward, dousing the enemy with the same icy chill as he was now immersed in.
    His enemy mirrored his movements, pointing up the river, and when Damien swung his hand forward, his foe did the same, and he found himself being doused doubly.
    It's like fighting a mirror! Damien thought. Pushing the fear to the back of his mind, he concentrated on warming the water around him, then unsealed his gills and breathed deep of the river.
    His enemy sprouted gills in response, and the water temperature increased from a comfortable ninety eight to the feel of hot bath water.
    Altering his tactics, Damien cooled the water instead; not by much... just about half of what he normally would. If this opponent was the mirror that Damien had come to suspect, he would finish cooling the water to a more comfortable warmth; perhaps then Damien would be calm enough to think of something else.
    Strangely enough, the water cooled just like he thought. He stared at the fuzzy face above him, shocked by how disturbingly similar it looked to his own reflection.
    "Tag," it grinned. "You're it...Or should I say, `We're it?' Funny that we're having this discussion on a river bottom. Wonder what this heat does to the fish? Wonderful time for a warm bath, though."
    Damien didn't respond.
    "I'm getting prune hands," said the other otter. "Let's talk at my place."
    Before Damien could respond, the stranger grabbed him by the neck, and he found himself whirling through the air, over the treetops. Seconds later, he was being pulled through the entrance of an isolated tree hut in the middle of a forest.
    The place seemed oddly familiar, a spartan shack containing nothing more than a hammock, a wood stove, a locked chest and a pile of clothing.
    "Sit anywhere you like," the other otter said as he started a magical fire in the stove.
    Damien's paws glowed on their own accord as he watched him.
    Stunned, Damien allowed himself to sit on the hammock. For several moments, his thoughts were in such turmoil that he was unable to speak; then finally his voice returned as his fractured mind settled on a single question. "Who are you?"
    "The real question is, do we really love Peapod? Because if we don't, how are we going to break up after all that kissing? But if we do, what's the captain going to think?"
    "No, really, who are you?" Damien asked. "And more to the point, why do you keep saying 'we'?"
    "I was there, so, for all intents and purposes, you were there. Ergo, the use of `we.' As for who I am, take a wild guess."
    "Are you..." Damien hesitated. "Are you a manifestation of my fractured memories?"
    The other otter shrugged. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. What good will it do you to find out?"
    The other otter dropped tea leaves into a pot on the stove. "What would you do if you found out I was a fractured part of your personality?"
    "I would ask you exactly how I... we... got broken," Damien responded offhandedly. "After that would depend on whether I believed your answer."
    "Well," said the other otter. "Sometimes when folks go through a traumatic experience, or do something so terrible that they can't live with themselves, they may dissassociate parts of their personality and start talking to themselves. The obvious solution is acceptance, but where's the fun in that?" He shrugged.
    (Missing text)
    "When the masthead hit us during the storm," the stranger said as he stirred the pot. "We lost track of who we were."
    Damien frowned as he put more leaves in the boiling water. "Do you want sugar in your tea?" He stared at the empty hammock. "Of course I don't."
    "...I probably shouldn't, either," Damien replied. "If you are me, then it would follow we share the same tastes."
    He heard a knock at the door.
    "Damien? You in there mate?"
    He cracked the door open and saw a flat beak pointing back at him.
    "I thought you'd be here!" He snapped a fin to his head in salute. "Don't worry, I won't tell you a thing. Just as you ordered, sir. May I ask what the plan is for today?"
    Damien stared at the platypus in astonishment. "What plans? I don't have any plans!"
    "That's the beauty of it, eh? Right hand don't know what the left is doing?"
    The otter frowned.
    "Can I make a suggestion?" said a voice behind him.
    Damien looked up and saw a Persian cat with a pinstriped suit grinning at him. "How are you at spelunking?" He took a drag on his cigar, awaiting a response.
    Damien stared at him in shock, scarcely believing what was happening to him. He didn't make a move, caught between feelings of mistrust, hatred and self loathing.
    The cat dug a short rod out of his vest, waving it back and forth in front of his face. It glowed and flashed different colors, and he came to the sudden realization that he had been brainwashed. By that time, however, his vision got blurry and he found himself standing on the forest floor without knowing how he'd gotten down there.
    "You told me there was treasure onboard your ship," said the cat. "Where is it?"
    "I thought he was going spelunking," said Epin.
    "He is. He should have already brought the treasure back. Where is it?"
    ***
    When Nightshade opened his eyes, he found himself looking at a wooly face. His pulse had somehow returned to normal. He inhaled, taking in a foresty scent, and smells of fish as his lungs filled.
    He blinked and the face vanished.
    He discovered himself to be chained to a concrete wall in a laboratory containing rows of glass tanks filled with amber liquid, some occupied with dark objects shaped like bodies, and desks covered with test tubes, flasks, beakers and computerized machinery. An IV had been inserted in the soft part of his elbow, draining blood down to a rubbery translucent package on the floor. A tentacle stood nearby, seeming to be monitoring the process. It seemed they have drained him of roughly a cupful so far.
    He saw something in a lab coat mixing colored liquids in the flasks, the back of its shiny silver head silently rotating back and forth as it worked. A black and white spotted rex cat, also in a white coat, stood next to it, jotting notes on a clipboard.
    "Nightshade! Are you okay?" He heard a voice whisper.
    Nightshade looked left and saw the rat dangling by a pair of chains. He nodded. "Fine."
    "Why are they draining your blood?"
    He didn't answer, but he had guesses. He stared at the glass tanks, trying to figure out an escape. He counted three tanks to the left of the chemical table, and five to the right. The body in the second tank on the left seemed to be familiar. The curvy, pleasantly plump figure, the round feline ears, the bushy tail...
    Suddenly a roar echoed through the chamber. A familiar simian sounding roar. He knew it all too well.
    "Bongo!" Templeton shouted. "What are you doing to him!" The rat tugged on his manacles, but couldn't free himself.
    At the sound of his friends' suffering, Nightshade released a sharp, loud growl. I will not be held here, he promised himself, pulling hard against his own shackles. I have lived wild, totally alone... I have seen and done things that most creatures today could never think of... I have fought, and hunted, and killed for my survival, and I have survived, purely on my wits, for three solid years... in a world that would break most men, I have survived... "I am a warrior born..." he whispered, then raised his voice as he gathered his anger. "I am unbreakable. I am Nightshade! And I... will never... give up!" Turning his head, he focused all of his rage and pain onto the manacle that bound his wrist... and he opened his mouth, releasing the tightest and strongest sonic blast he had ever mustered. He could feel the shackle vibrating around his arm as his voice hammered against it, yet he had no fear; he knew he was in control. No sound-wave would stray from its path; not a single echo would reach even his own ears, not until the manacle crumbled.
    And crumble it did; within mere seconds, his hand was free of the confining metal, and he brought it forward to show those who dared to take him prisoner. "This is the power I wield," he growled, pulling the IV loose from his other arm. "With my voice alone, I can shatter even the metal that keeps me prisoner, with such precision as to leave myself completely unharmed. This is the power you have failed to contain. Release me... release my friends... NOW!!!"
    "Eeeee!" the tentacle cried, slithering away as fast as its slime could carry it.
    The one with the shiny head paid no mind to the commotion, methodically mixing vials. But the feline turned his head to look.
    He only shrugged and returned to notating.
    Silence.
    Nightshade's ears picked up flapping sounds. A second later, a shadowy winged creature stood in front of him. It folded its bat wings behind its back, the mismatched eyes on its jaguar face glaring coldly as it clenched its tumor covered fists. The corner of its furry black cheek lifted as it bared its misshapen fangs, drawing attention to the gaping patch of skinless meat on the left side of its face.
    "Well!" the creature growled. "Pretty boy is awake!" It cracked its knuckles. "The way I figure, you got one minute to make a choice. Either go back up on that wall, or I'll put you back up there myself!"
    "Good luck with that," Nightshade said, his voice dripping with sarcastic contempt. Opening his mouth in a feral snarl, he released a second sonic beam, directly into his captor's face.
    The creature's head exploded, spraying gobs of green-purple ooze everywhere. The body remained standing, motionless as globs of slime swelled and bubbled around its neck.
    Nightshade tried to walk past it, but a muscular arm with a vice-like grip caught him, refusing to let go. It shrugged its shoulders, then a tiny reptilian head popped out of its neck, dripping with slime.
    "Gotcha!" it laughed. The creature raised its other tumorous claw, spreading its fingers. The claw glowed, and a hexagonal pattern of blue light formed around it, taking the form of a gauntlet.
    No time to be fainthearted. Locking the claws of both hands into the arm that held him, Nightshade called forth his lightning and sent a bolt up through his opponent's shoulder, and straight into what he perceived to be the creature's heart.
    The slimy dinosaur head cracked a nasty grin, breathing slowly through its teeth. Nightshade felt a numbing heat rising up through his palm, up into his arm, and then something exploded with a crackle of electricity. He fell to the floor on his back.
    When he stood back up, he saw the creature had summoned its own electrical armor, looking like a blue glowing statue.
    "All right..." Nightshade growled, "...now I'm mad." His armor glowed brighter as he focused his rage, and Nightshade turned to the side, sweeping his left wing toward his foe. From the tip of his wing, a wave of electric energy sliced through the air between them.
    The arc of electricity erupted in sparks as it slammed into the creature's armor.
    The dinosaur headed thing stepped back, raised its glowing hands, and a red lightning bolt shot from the palms of its hands.
    The blast knocked Nightshade back against the wall, causing his armor to flicker, sputter and go out.
    Nightshade pushed himself to his feet with a growl, clenching his fists. He concentrated, but couldn't get the shield to come back up. Somehow the blast had short circuited something that generated the force field.
    The monster stomped forward, chuckling at Nightshade's misfortune.
    Nightshade growled. He didn't dare touch the thing, lest he get electrocuted. He stepped back, watching his foe for weaknesses.
    He let out a strong blast of sonar, but it only caused a cosmetic ripple in the electrified armor.
    He scanned the area for useful weapons or debris, but could see only beakers, flasks, vials, and heavy machinery bolted to the floor and tables. He briefly considered hitting the thing with a vial, but he didn't want to destroy vital information he might need later.
    The monster swung an electrified claw at him. He dodged it, but felt a jolt of electricity jolt through his body as a lightning bolt shot out of the other claw.
    The next moment, he saw a cloud of flapping brown-black feathers, and something like a lightning storm.
    Thud! A feathery body landed smoking at his feet, its horns reduced to blackened charcoal sticks.
    Nightshade had seen the owl before. A grumpy old sort who didn't talk much, stayed out of the public gatherings, but occasionally stopped to help rescue a falling gorilla. Now he was dead.
    He saw reptile head's armor flicker and disappear as he clutched his chest, gasping for breath.
    Nightshade balled his fists.
    Before he could pounce, the creature's armor reappeared. It raised its claws menacingly.
    Nightshade took a deep breath, forcing his mind to focus on visualizing a wall of protection. The armor reappeared, but only as a helmet.
    If I can't break his armor, then I'll just have to break him. Channeling the electricity from his own helmet back into his throat, Nightshade raised his wings around his head, forming a rough cone shape with the wide end pointed forward. Then, releasing his voice, he screamed as loud and long as he could, letting the sound rip free from his improvised megaphone toward the reptile.
    The blast cut large waves in the creature's armor, causing it to fade and vanish. The reptile swallowed, gasping for breath.
    As Nightshade hopped close to launch an attack, he heard someone shout at him.
    "Tyrone!"
    He turned his head and saw Catalioni holding a gun to a squirrel's head. "You want to see what color his brains are?...Or would you rather cooperate and hook those tubes back up?" Then, with an expression of mock surprise, he added, "Oh! Watch out!"
    A fist impacted Nightshade's face.
    Nightshade instinctively turned away from the punch to lessen the impact, crouching low and away from his attacker. Then, extending his claws, he sprang back up and swung hard, growling like his feral cousins as he tore at his foe unrelentingly, green-purple fluid spraying out from the cuts. Seconds later, scores of tumors sprouted from the wounds. Nightshade shuddered.
    He heard a ricochet behind him, then Catalioni saying, "Try that trick again and I'll really do it!"
    Exploiting the distraction, the reptile punched Nightshade in the stomach.
    Before he could get in another hit, the mutant staggered backwards, gasping for air as it clutched its chest.
    Letting out a raspy croak, it fell to the floor, apparently dead.
    "As you can see," said Catalioni. "These clones need work!" He stepped closer, with the barrel of his gun pressed against the squirrel's skull. "Which is why you're going to hook those IV tubes back up to your veins like a good boy. Otherwise, your buddy from the tree fort is going to get it."
    Nightshade made no move.
    The Persian shrugged. "It's up to you. Personally, I don't really care. He's a fictional character, and I'll get your blood one way or another. But I thought I'd try the easy way first."
    Gathering his voice in his throat, Nightshade looked to Catalioni's gun and released his sonic beam, hoping to blast the gun out of Catalioni's hand.
    He heard the hammer of the gun click down, but it flew out of the cat's hand without a sound.
    "But I just cleaned that thing!" he shouted.
    The squirrel bit him, kicked him, and knocked him to the floor.
    "Maximilllyonn!" Catalioni shouted.
    The next moment, Nightshade saw the figure with the shiny dome turn his toward the commotion, and a red laser shot out of its eyes. The squirrel collapsed like a rag doll, and the cat pushed him off.
    "Maximillion! Clobber bat boy over there and put him back on the IV!"
    "As you wish." The figure in the lab coat turned around, stomping loudly toward Nightshade.
    "Remain stationary," it said, extending its large hands. "Reconnection in progress."
    In the background, the hybrid's ears picked up sounds of someone tinkering with a gun.
    "Frag that." Leaping away, Nightshade bounded over to the wall. Spotting a three-pronged electrical outlet, he extended the claws of his first two fingers and thumb and slid them into the holes of the socket. Immediately, his fur lit up with the tell-tale sparks that preceded his armor.
    The room went black, illuminated only by the robot's red eyes and the arcing bolts of electricity running through the hybrid's body.
    Such immense power should have killed him, but the combination of the magic stone and the magic of cinema seemed to be preventing it.
    "Who did that!" he heard someone shout. It didn't sound like Catalioni. "Do you hear that silence? We've just lost life support to the testing containers!"
    With his claws still in the outlet, he raised his other hand, pointing the palm toward the thing that Catalioni had called Maximilian. The arcing power surges in Nightshade's pelt converged on his free hand, forming one of his gauntlets. A spherical burst of lightning formed in his palm, growing until it encased his hand, and Nightshade closed his fist, launching his thunder-ball toward the creature.
    Chrome Dome stepped backwards and stood still. Its shoulders drooped, and it let out a robotic moan. The red eyes went out, and Nightshade stood in a near total darkness lit only by his electrified armor.
    Focus... Patience... Control. With the robot beaten, Nightshade concentrated on the current running through him. Absorbing what he needed to recharge himself, he redirected the rest back into the building. Half-closing his eyes against the returning lights as he unplugged his claws, he used his sonar to see what would come at him next.
    The lights came back on, and so did the bubbling of the test containers.
    "Purple tentacles!" he heard Catalioni shouting from somewhere behind the machinery. "Get him before he exploits any more plot holes!"
    "Yes sir!" said a chorus of gurgling voices.
    "What's a plot hole?" he heard one of them ask.
    "It's where you plug in the power cords."
    "Cords? But those don't plug into anything! They're hooked up to cables connected directly to the transformer!"
    "Exactly! Stop him!"
    "What!"
    "Shut up! Just knock him out and put him back on the IV, okay?"
    "Sir yes sir!"
    Nightshade saw a crowd of tentacle creatures slurming their way around the glass tank at the end of the row, waving their bulb shaped weapons.
    He looked in the other direction, but saw a dark, muscular figure with crooked wings standing in the way.
    "Duhhh...Why you do the thing with the light and all the zapping sparklies? It make head hurt!" he heard a voice saying. Glancing upwards, he noticed that Chrome Dome had come back to life somehow. It stood rubbing its head, staring at him with its LED's. "Who are you?"
    "I'll have to get back to you on that." Deciding not to let the tentacles use his electric power against him a second time, Nightshade deactivated his armor and bounded erratically toward them, striking out at them with spread claws when he saw his chance, and otherwise jumping away from their attacks.
    He knocked three of them to the floor, but the degree of wounding was difficult to see due to the slime. His claws oozed with goop from his attempts.
    He landed on the floor a yard behind them, eyes daring around in search of possible danger.
    Beyond the glass tubes, he found a second series of containers. Rows of refrigerator sized computers winked at him from the rounded stone wall at the end of the chamber. To one side he could see a fire exit and a fire hose inside a glass box.
    "Don't move," he heard a voice gurgle.
    He looked to his side and found a green tentacle standing behind a machine only a couple feet away, aiming a bulb gun at him.
    "A little help?" he heard Templeton shout.
    "Don't..." Nightshade looked at the strange firearm. "...try and stop me!" Half-falling into a crouch, the dark warrior launched a burst of sonic force toward the gun, knocking it away before the creature wielding it could correct his aim. In the same instant, Nightshade pounced from where he was on the floor, easily clearing the distance with claws outstretched, ready to tear into this new threat.
    The tentacle hopped sideways, attempting to get a sucker on the gun. Nightshade blasted it aside again.
    "G-g-g-g-g-g-g-g!" the creature slimed its way across the floor like a child on a Slip N' Slide, slurming around a machine with helmets dangling from it. It dove behind a specimen tank, disappearing from view.
    At the end of the room, the hybrid could see an operating table where a pair of purple tentacles busied themselves on a large body covered in a sheet. A big pair of rough brown feet stuck out from the end, fat thunbs pointing at the ceiling.
    Arcs of electric current climbed Jacob's ladders on either side of the table. Wires and tubes of fluid crossed around them into machinery framing the table.
    A silver surgical tray stood at one side, from which one of the tentacles fed a spool of thread. "Hurry up! The sedative is wearing off!"
    "Then give it some more! We still have to operate on the brain!"
    "Oh, no, you jolly well don't!" Nightshade shouted, stepping forward. "You are not brainwashing the monkey!"
    "Hey Nightshade! Behind you!"
    He already knew he had foes behind him. He hadn't vanquished them all, so there had to be some behind him.
    "Stay where you are or we'll pull the plug on your friends," said a voice behind him. It sounded like the voice that had been shouting about the power earlier.
    "Do that," Nightshade growled, extending his claws as he turned toward the voice, "and you'll be the next to die."
    He saw the rex holding a small box shaped device, with an entourage of weapon bearing tentacles surrounding him. "Oh really?" he said with a bored expression. "It would seem you're outnumbered and outgunned."
    "Witty catchphrase here!" Nightshade heard someone shout. And then one of the tentacles exploded in a mess of bloody slime.
    He saw a double tailed fox in sneakers arise from the aftermath. Before Nightshade could figure out why he seemed familiar, a pair of tentacles slipped across the floor, sucker pinning him down.
    With a mock expression of fright, the cat, with trembling paws, brought his right index finger closer and closer to the button on the box, like that paw had been possessed and he were trying to fight it. "I...I...I can't...fight it much longer! Must...preserve specimens!" He dropped the facade. "Eggplant!" he yelled. "Your assistance is required!"
    Hearing the sound of feet stepping through slime, Nightshade turned around. He saw another clone stepping out from behind a test container.
    This clone had a hairless face, deformed, useless looking wings, and a body covered in gold feathers. Its massive bird feet stomped closer, then it settled into a fighting horse stance in front of him, raising its paws in knife hands. The three pointed orange comb on its head snapped straight up, and its beak clicked over sharp jaguar teeth. The creature's front hand beckoned at him like a Japanese person would beckon to a dog.
    Outgunned..? Nightshade thought, breathing deep. Never.
    Releasing his voice, he launched a sonic blast at the clone in front of him, knocking the abomination off its feet into the slime. Turning swiftly, Nightshade swept the same blast over the foes behind him, widening the beam to deafen and disable all of them at once.
    The cat with the remote slid back about five feet on the ooze, but managed to stay upright. Instead of being knocked over, the tentacles only stood stunned. He saw the fox crawl out from under his attackers.
    "Quick!" it shouted, digging in its backpack. "Take this!" It threw Nightshade a CD case.
    He stared at the cover. "Tentacle Mating Call?"
    "Trust me, it will work!"
    "I see a stereo on the table over here!" Templeton called from the wall.
    "No!" the cat shouted.
    Nightshade hurriedly jumped his way over the stunned tentacles, blasting a couple with sonar as they began to stir. Seeing a small, slime caked stereo next to an oscilliscope, he popped the lid open, trading the mating call for the Beethoven classics CD they had in there before, pushing play.
    EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
    Several test tubes shattered, then exploded. The tone pained his sensitive ears and made cracks appear on the surface of the testing tanks. The crowd of tentacles gurgled, let out their own high pitched noises, then fell to the floor in convulsions. "G-g-g-g-g-g!"
    Above the noise, Nightshade heard a gunshot, then the sound of glass cracking. The persian stood at the corner, aiming a .45 at him. "Take out that CD."
    As he looked at the gun, Nightshade's mind flashed back to three years ago. An old badger had entered his room... he'd been there to talk, but the talk had turned bad, and Nightshade - then Tyrone - was looking down the barrel of another gun. "After everything I gave you," the badger growled, "you failed... and failure has only one reward, freak..."
    Now, as then, Nightshade screamed, but this time he knew what he was doing. The impact of the first sound waves detonated the bullets inside the gun, making it easy for the gun to fall apart under the continuing volley of sonic force.
    At the same time, Nightshade allowed his voice to stray, concentrating the vibrations on the hand as well as the gun, to powder the bones and cripple the hand that his enemy dared to raise against him.
    The cat yowled as the gun flew out of his paws. A moment later, clutching his paw in shock, he made a hasty retreat behind a testing container.
    Nightshade saw a bright flash back there, but couldn't tell what it was. The tentacles continued gurgling on the floor. Behind him, he noticed even Chrome Dome was clutching its hands to the sides of its head.
    Nightshade suddenly noticed a feathery figure stomping through the quivering mass of purple. He still had a few yards on it.
    Looking directly at the feathered beast, Nightshade took a careful stance. "If you're anything like me, then you value your freedom. So what's it to be?"
    "If you're anything like me," said the chicken creature. "You'd know that our kind hunt alone!" It stomped closer, raising its comb.
    "Am I to be your prey, then?" Nightshade asked, standing his ground as he tensed his muscles, ready to fight.
    "Prey, rival, who cares?" The clone let out a loud squawk, then leapt up into the air, knocking back Nightshade with a chicken kick.
    Rolling with the blow, Nightshade cartwheeled away from his adversary, turning to face him as he returned to his feet. "Rivals don't have to be enemies. What did I do to deserve your fury?"
    "You have something I need." The clone hopped into the air, landing next to him. "And I intend to get it, one way or another."
    "And that is...?"
    "Your blood!" The clone distended its jaw, and a blast of fire came out.
    Nightshade quickly jumped away from the flame. "And you expect to get it by using fire?" he scoffed. "You're not very good at thinking things through, are you? The heat would seal the wound shut before any blood came out."
    "Yeah, like I'm going to drink it! Good thinking, clown!" The clone raised up one of its clawed feet, causing it to glow a bright blue. The next moment, Nightshade found himself under a barrage of kicks.
    The tentacles continued to thrash and squirm in convulsions as the high pitched noise played on the stereo. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a low, flat shape in a lab coat crawling on its belly toward the table.
    "Not so fast!" a childlike voice shouted, and Nightshade saw a fuzzy red-orange shape stomping on the labcoated figure's head. A fierce scuffle ensued, but he couldn't make out the details due to having to dodge another chicken kick at that precise moment.
    Timing the kicks, Nightshade grabbed hold of the foot and swung his arm downward, dragging the chicken to the floor. Wasting no time, he pounced quickly, claws outstretched as he struck.
    The moment the creature's head hit the floor, it became unconscious and stopped breathing.
    Crash! Nightshade looked up to see one of the testing containers explode in a shower of glass and pink liquid. An unclothed body covered in white fur and tubing collapsed to the floor.
    "Whenever you're done helping her," a voice shouted over the high pitched squealing. "I'd very much appreciate it if you could help me down!" After a pause, he added, "It's a little uncomfortable up here!"
    Nightshade glanced back at the area around the lab table. The fox had successfully incapacitated the mad scientist, either by killing him or knocking him unconscious, so now all that remained appeared to be the mindlessly squirming tentacles, and a robot, which stomped up to him, scratching its dome. "What is my program? I forgot."
    "Your program," said Nightshade. "Is to free my friends."
    "Does not compute. Does not compute. Does not compute." The robot stuck its arms out in rigid robotic fashion, waving them up and down as it stomped aimlessly in a circle. It stomped up to the test tubes, the oscilliscope, and other machinery, slamming its fists through the mess like it were cardboard and sugar glass. A disproportionate amount of colored smoke, ticker tape, and something like sparkly fireworks exploded from their innards.
    Another test container shattered, spilling fluid everywhere. An eyeless hairy thing with teeth fell to the floor.
    Well then, I'll just do it myself. Stepping around the lab stuff, Nightshade walked up to Templeton, examining his restraints for weak points.
    Locating the hinges of the manacles, he shot them with a burst of sonar, causing them to break apart. The rat tumbled to the floor, where he sat gasping and rubbing his arms.
    Hearing jingling sounds, Nightshade looked up and saw the fox waving a set of keys, more than likely the keys to the cuffs. He just shook his head.
    "I think that's your lady friend on the floor there," Templeton said, pointing towards the shattered tanks.
    The hybrid walked over to the white body, staring at the tubes and connectors.
    "In the meantime, I'll see what we can do with these slimy guys!"
    "Zip ties!"
    Nightshade looked up and saw that the fox had opened a cabinet at one end of the chamber, holding up a handful of translucent cords.
    "What good will that do?" Templeton protested. "They're all muscle!"
    "What if we tie them to something else?"
    "There's not enough places for all of them!"
    "Not to worry. I saw a jar of salt!" And so he dug a cylindrical container out of the cabinet. "It works on slugs, doesn't it?"
    "I guess!...Wait! That's not salt!"
    With a shrug, the fox dumped a generous quantity of whatever it was on one of the tentacles, causing it to shriek and squeal in pain as its flesh bubbled and effervesced into a puddle on the floor. He gave the creature a generous stomp, then moved on to the next one.
    Nightshade turned his attention back to the body. It was Melissa, all right. She seemed to be breathing, but shivering from the wet and cold. Her teeth chattered as she curled in a fetal ball, staring numbly ahead. With a tremble, she looked up at him, extending a shaven arm with an incoherent mumble. He noticed a word had been tattooed on her forearm. `Cliche,' it said.
    Nightshade opened a wing and looked at it for a brief second. If ever there was a time... Crouching down next to her, he wrapped his wings around her body and held her there. A careful application of his static force warmed the air around them; with any luck, that and his own heat would help her with her chills.
    The mild electric current caused the mink's fur to stand straight up and dry out, making her stop shivering and relax. "Admit it," she purred, pressing her unclothed body against him. "This is what you've wanted all along."
    His fur changed color for a brief instant before he heard shouting.
    "We're out of salt!"
    "Great! Now what?"
    Thoom! Nightshade looked up to see the fox pointing a laser gun at a puddle on the floor.
    "You know, I kinda wish you wouldn't do that." said Templeton. "I know they're trying to imprison or kill us, but they can talk and stuff..."
    "But you're okay with pouring salt on them."
    Templeton sighed. "All right. You win. But I'm not shooting them."
    "Suit yourself," said the fox, squeezing the trigger at another one. The tentacle burst like a water balloon, spraying them both with slime.
    "Its intestines went everywhere! That is so gross!" The rat wiped slime off his face, marching up to Nightshade.
    "Have you seen Amo anywhere? I can't see anything in these test tubes."
    "Just wait for the glass to shatter!" the fox shouted. "I'm sure she's in there somewhere!"
    Thoom!
    Awkward silence. Melissa sighed, climbing out of Nighshade's arms. She then proceeded to casually yank out tube connectors from various parts of her body. "Did you see my clothes?"
    Nightshade stood and turned, casting his sonar throughout the room in an attempt to locate them.
    He detected soft objects somewhere within a series of metal drawers below where Metal Head was smashing equipment. He hurried over to them, pulling each one open, examining their contents. After going through a drawer of papers and scientific supplies, and blasting open the locks of a few others containing more papers, computer disks, keys, a wallet, and an old sandwich, he came across Melissa's clothing, Templeton's remote control, Apple II disks, a small locked box and a locker key. He dug out the tunic, undergarments and pants, tossing them to her as he stared at the drawer contents. Hearing a low gurgle, he glanced about himself, but only saw the robot, Melissa getting dressed, and the hairy lump on the floor.
    Opening the wallet, he found 59 bills labelled "POG" on them, with the words Unified States of Gardenia running along the top in fancy script. Figuring it to be useful currency, he pocketed the money, then collected the keys, including the locker key, the box, the remote and some other objects that looked like they belonged to him.
    The hybrid's ears tracked the source of the gurgling to the hairy lump on the floor, which now shambled towards him on its belly, baring its fangs.
    He backed away, preparing to fight, but then it started mumbling. And then it kept on mumbling for about a minute straight.
    Melissa, now fully dressed, crouched on the floor, looking the creature in the face. "Cool!" She waved at it and said hi.
    Instead of responding, the creature flopped facefirst on the stone floor and a green ooze poured out of its body. "Gross!"
    "Bongo!" Templeton shouted. "What have they done to you!"
    Nightshade marched past the remaining glass tubes to investigate.
    He saw the gorilla sitting up on the lab table, his shaved stomach covered in stitches. "Larvar," Bongo said with a shrug.
    "It's like we don't speak the same language anymore."
    "Hooorey. Lar-" he covered his mouth.
    Thoom! The robot smashed up the oscilliscope thing, then knocked the stereo on the floor, stopping the high pitched sound. Fortunately for him, he had no more tentacles to contend with.
    "Well, the important thing is you're all right, whatever they did to you."
    "Unghumburgormumbojumho jimy tungo lar-" The ape hit himself in the head.
    "So you feel...powerful?"
    He shrugged. "Hairs hammo lar-" Smack.
    "Amo? I still don't see her..."
    Nightshade's sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone screaming in another room. "I hear her. C'mon."
    And he rushed to the metal door at the end of the chamber, throwing it open.
    On the other side, he found a large drum shaped stone chamber chamber filled with torture devices and chains.
    The female owl hung from a rack on one wall, her wings, paws and scaly ankles chained to the wall.
    Beneath her, Nightshade saw a dark, lumpy shape with gnarled claw hands. The thing breathed heavily as it raised something like a dentist's tool up to her leg. It pushed a button, and a red light came out, causing a spot on her leg to burn and smoke. She screamed as the beam cut its way across in a small arc. The figure responded with a burst of breathy laughter.
    As the figure raised the cutting tool again, Nightshade let out a burst of sound, knocking it out of its hand. The thing turned around, and Nightshade found himself staring at a skull with eyes.
    "I just started cutting," it laughed, gesturing to the owl. "You want to give it a try?"
    Nightshade considered shouting in this thing's face. He considered simply releasing another sonic attack and powdering its exposed skull. He considered a good many responses, each as excruciating as he could possibly make them, but in the end, he simply smiled. "Sure, why not?"
    Taking up the laser, he pointed it first at the captive owl...then whirled around and pointed it at Amo's tormentor.
    The laser turned ut to be more like a movie laser than a real laser, with a weird sound effect and a lightsaber-like beam. Despite this embellishment, it failed to operate like a gun or make the creature's head explode. It just made a red dot on the skull's forehead.
    The skull thing just raised its hands in front of its face defensively, receiving laser cust across its palms.
    One of its fingers fell off. It let out a shriek of pain, then ran out the door.
    "Amo!" Templeton shouted. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of there!" He snatched a key off a key rack at the other end of the room, unlocking her ankle cuffs. He stared at the cut on her scaly leg. "To ruin such a f-fine...surface."
    The owl laughed. "Only you could make me cheerful at a time like this!" She shifted uncomfortably against her arm restraints. "I would love to hang here and receive compliments all day, but my arms are tired."
    "Sorry." He jumped up and grabbed a chain, unlocking the top cuffs. She fell to the floor, rubbing her wings.
    Nightshade looked around, but didn't see anyone else in distress.
    "Well," said Melissa. "They dragged us off to who knows where. I have no idea where we are or how to get out of here. What's the plan, chief?"
    "Plan?" Nightshade asked. "The plan is to get out of here, and get us all back to where we belong. Anything beyond that, well... we'll just have to improvise."
    Looking around, he continued. "There must be some way out of here; there was a way IN, after all... It's just a matter of finding it."
    Launching his sonar around the room, he started listening for echoes of empty spaces behind the walls; if any could be found, these would reveal the locations of doors that had not been previously known.
    It didn't require any sonic powers to see the two steel security doors to the sides of the room, but his sonar did detect something unusual behind the wall between them. In that area, he could sense a walled off area the size of a bathroom, with a small humanoid shape inside. Although he couldn't tell if it were artificial or organic, he could tell it wasn't the kind of thing that had a pulse or a working power supply. Whatever it was didn't seem to have an exit, either.
    Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Templeton standing on a silver car battery, staring at a map of fire exits.
    "What's that say?" said Amo.
    "It shows how to get out of the building. There's an office over that way, and it looks like there's a route to the emergency exit through the other door."
    "Good find," Nightshade said. "I've got another one: Someone or something is being kept behind a secret door." He pointed toward the hidden room. "So, what do you all think we should do about this info? Do we try the longer but quieter way out, or face the alarms that come with emergency exits? And do we risk releasing what might turn out to be an ambush, in the hopes of perhaps rescuing a fellow prisoner?"
    With a shrug, the gorilla picked up a car battery, casually tossing it at the stone wall. Being of a lesser quality construction, the rocks and mortar in that area crumbled into a pile of dust and gravel, and Nightshade could see a bedroom covered from ceiling to floor with writing, done in pencil, ink, sharp instruments, and dried blood.
    "Project 8324 is a secret," read Melissa. "And it will die with me."
    "Sigma notation," said Templeton. "This is why I can never be a chemist."
    "You think it's about the energy in black holes, or the secret to the perfect key lime pie?"
    "It's all greek to me!"
    "Ungh umble ump."
    "Of course it isn't project 8324. Why would he say it would die with him if he carved it into the wall?"
    "He's probably trying to get them to clone key lime pie."
    "Stop. You're making me hungry."
    Nightshade kicked the waist high wall of rock in front of him, and it caved like wet sheet rock.
    "There sure are a lot of equations up here."
    The hybrid stepped through the opening, searching for signs of life. The only thing he found was the skeleton of a humanoid reptile in raggedy clothes.
    "You will all die down here," Melissa read. "High pitched frequency..."
    "What's that on the floor?"
    Nightshade walked to the center of the room, staring at an iron grating bolted firmly to the floor. Claw marks and splintered wood indicted that the skeleton had once attempted to pry this very same grate loose, but failed.
    "You think there might be something down there?"
    Grunting, Bongo stomped over to it, and with one big yank he pulled the grating out of the floor, taking the surrounding stone along with it.
    "Great job, Bongo! What's down there?"
    The ape glanced down at the hole, then backed away with a frightened screech.
    "This is no time to be clausterphobic!" the rat grumbled, marching into the room. He looked down the hole. "Wow! That's dark!"
    Bongo grunted something.
    "It's probably your imagination." Nightshade saw him waving to him. "Hey, Shade! Can you see down here?"
    Nightshade scanned the hole with his sonar and found it to be an open tunnel, one containing air. "Looks like he didn't suffocate," he muttered.
    "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," said Templeton. "We've got a perfectly good fire exit, and I think we've taken care of the security force."
    "If I'm thinkin' what you think I'm thinkin'," Nightshade said. "It's because you thought of it first, and put the thought in my head. But while you're thinkin' on that, think about this. Suppose you're wrong, and there are other security forces elsewhere?"
    "He's right," said Melissa. "There's a lot we don't know about this place. There could be another security force roaming the building."
    "I...I guess you've got a point." He leaned over the hole. "I just hope there's an exit. How are we getting down there, anyway?...And what's that smell?"
    Nightshade grabbed a pile of sheets from the bed, knotting them together like a rope. He tied one end to the bedpost, then climbed his makeshift rope down into the hole.
    Once everyone had safely made it down, he took in his surroundings. The place stank of industrial chemicals, probably violating every known EPA regulation, and his lungs. The stuff oozed down a channel below the grating he stood on, giving off a faint green glow. His sonar detected two ends on the section of tunnel they stood in, one where he could feel air currents, and one where he couldn't. Illuminated by the toxic waste and the dim light from the room above, he waved a paw at the tunnel with the air. "This feels like the way out. Follow the sound of my voice." And then he marched ahead, to the place where the tunnel got darker.
    About ten yards down, he came to a fork in the path, branching off in three sections. It seemed he could feel air coming from all three.
    "Are those gates locked?" said Amo.
    "Umph Larvar."
    "Gates?" Templeton shouted. "What are you talking about! I can't see a thing!"
    "Tsk, tsk. What kind of rat are you anyway?"
    "The nice kind that doesn't live in a sewer...Or a cave."
    The owl giggled.
    "Speaking of which," said Nightshade. "What exactly do you see?"
    "Three gates. All closed."
    "Ungh umble. Larvar."
    "I was wondering when that would Larvar stuff would start up again."
    "Larvar. Ungh umble. Larvar."
    "Well all right then. I suppose we've got a plan."
    "What's a Chakat?"
    "Where do you see that at?"
    "This wall says beware them."
    "I'd beware them, all right. Have you ever tried reading that crap?...Never mind. Be grateful you don't have computers."
    "What's a computer?"
    "That thing upstairs. You know, with the green text...writing and pictures?"
    "Umphumble umba. Larvar."
    "What did he say?"
    "I think it was something about being in the dark ages. Or being in the dark about technology."
    "Larvar."
    "All right, Bat Boy," said Melissa. "So which of these pitch black gates in this pitch black tunnel I can't see are we going into?"
    "Well, there's a trick to any labyrinth," Nightshade responded. "Pick a wall and follow it; sooner or later it always leads to a way out.
    "Everybody line up and stay together," he said. "I'll take point; Amo, you cover the rear, and keep an eye open for any of us straying, or anything else coming." Placing a hand on the left wall, he turned the corner, using his sonar to see what was ahead.
    He followed the first tunnel for about ten yards, eventually reaching a gate made of iron bars, like a prison cell. He pulled on the door, but it didn't open. "A little help?"
    "Larvar?"
    He felt the ape's big rough hand press up against his face as it reached aimlessly in the dark.
    "Do that again and I'll break it."
    "Huh hoorey. Lar."
    "It's down here," said Amo, and Nightshade sensed her guiding the ape's hand toward the door.
    The ape pulled hard, causing something to break, and he ducked just in time to avoid getting a big hairy elbow to the face.
    "Hey! Watch it!"
    "Oop! Horey. Larvar."
    "Yeah, yeah."
    The gate fell to the floor with a tremendous clang.
    "Well," said Templeton. "If anyone's down here, they know we're here now."
    Nightshade shrugged. "Let's keep going."
    He followed the wall down into the dark several feet, past giant open drain pipes that poured out unpleasant smelling waste. Noticing a bump in the floor, he stepped over it, muttering to the others to watch out.
    Click. Someone didn't heed his advice.
    "Hoorey. Larvar."
    He heard a loud clang, then a thud as someone fell on the floor.
    "Bongo!"
    "What's going on?" said Templeton. "I can't see anything."
    "Bongo just triggered a trap."
    Bang! Nightshade sensed a metal wall slam down ahead of him.
    "So much for following the wall."
    "I didn't hear you coming up with any ideas, rodent!" He sighed. "Never mind. I think Bongo can handle this."
    "Bongo's on the floor," said Amo. "He's not handling anything right now."
    "All right. I'll take care of this myself."
    "Amo! What happened to Bongo?"
    "He looks okay. I think he just got a bump on the head."
    The rat swallowed audibly. "How big a bump?"
    "He'll be fine. It's no fatal."
    "I'm glad someone can see down here."
    Nightshade heard a loud hissing sound. Before he realized what was happening, he got sleepy and fell to the floor.
    When he awoke, he found himself laying on a beanbag chair in a room lit with dim light bulbs and torches. He sat up with a growl, taking in his surroundings.
    His friends slept safely on beanbag chairs of different colors, on the floor of a dirty brick chamber, apparently part of a sewer. A group of odd centaur-like creatures stood guard around the exits, furry cat things with breasts and four legged lower torsoes.
    Melissa groaned and sat up. After staring for a minute, she pointed to a guard with a speckled pelt and a red halter top. "What is that thing?"
    "It's a Chakat," said Templeton. "I was hoping they didn't exist."
    The speckly one turned around, its tail snapping from side to side behind its elastic briefs. "Correction: shi is a Chakat."
    "Actually, no. I meant what I said the first time."
    The creature's feline face wrinkled into a frown. "I have the characteristics of both sexes, therefore I cannot be called male or female."
    "That's why I said `it'."
    "It's offensive to call anyone in my species an `it.'"
    "And it offends my sense of the English language to change a letter in an existing word and pretend it doesn't sound like the original word."
    "We do it that way because we have male and female phases. In male phase we're called hym and hyie."
    "But do you actually look any different in male phase?"
    "Well, no..."
    "I rest my case."
    "My empathic sense is detecting stupidity."
    "That's because I have the telepathic power to reflect your empathic sense back on you."
    "Why are you being rude?" Melissa said, marching up to the creature. "Hi. My name is Melissa. What's your name?"
    The Chakat raised its paw and said, "I Chakat Specklebutt sire of Shir Paiselyfur and Shir Plaidfur do greet thee." It then spread its arms. "Hug!"
    Melissa just stared at the creature. "No."
    "I have the traits of two different sexes. Want to see?"
    "Ugh. Not really."
    "What do you have? I'm curious to know."
    "Look," said Templeton. "We're just trying to find the exit. Can you show us the way out?"
    "Which one?" The Chakat pointed to a fire exit map.
    CLICK HERE FOR MAP
    Templeton stood on his tiptoes, pointing to the circular room on the very top. "Didn't you say that room looked interesting to you?" He dropped back down. "Wait. That was another floor."
    "Correct," said the Chakat. "This is a map of the first floor."
    "You clearly know your way around this place better than we do," Nightshade said calmly. "Can you show us to the safest way out?"
    "Depends on where you're planning to go." The Chakat poked a claw at the top room. "That's where the offices are. The elevator leads out into a cave, but only Shir Extraarm knows what's out there. You can meet hym if you want. Hyie knows about that other cave beyond the lake, too. I can take you to any exit you want to see."
    "And where is this Shir Extraarm?"
    "I'm not really sure. He likes to wander a lot."
    Nightshade sighed.
    "I could show you to an exit, though. It's possible you might find hym there...maybe."
    "I'm confused," said Melissa. "If we're in a big movie, why are these things from the internet down here?"
    "We're not things," said the Chakat.
    "I don't know," said Templeton. "I think James Catmoron plaigiarized it or something."
    Nightshade saw a pair of fins pop out of the creature's neck. "We are not things! We're Chakats!"
    "Sorry," Melissa blurted.
    "The large one is awake," Nightshade heard a voice say behind him. He turned around and saw a cyclopean cat face staring back at him. This one wore a blue halter, and its coat was patchy with mange.
    With a grin, this stranger raised its paw. "I Chakat Eyeclops, sire of shir-"
    "Nice to meet you," said Melissa. "No hugs, please."
    The cyclops sighed in disappointment.
    "So," said Specklebutt. "Which way are you heading?"
    "I sense confusion and frustration," said Eyeclops. "I'll take you to the north cave. This way." And the Chakat padded off to the tunnel on the opposite side of the room.
    Nightshade followed without a word, but he kept his warrior's senses open; in spite of the seeming friendliness of these creatures, he wasn't going to let himself fall into an ambush.
    Eyeclops led him through the archway and down another long dark tunnel. The creature had somehow jury rigged a bunch of computer LED's together into a flashlight, giving everything a red darkroom glow. "This reminds me of the jean wars," their guide said with no apparent provocation. "You see, our masters, the humans, forced us into life of oppression by making us wear pants. Bla bla bla bla..."
    "How does walking down a dark tunnel remind you of jean wars?"
    "It just does, okay? Bla bla bla bla..." And he went on talking for ten paragraphs. Whenever anyone asked a question, or tried to interrupt in any way, the creature would either ignore it, or respond in an unhelpful fashion before returning to its lecture.
    To summarize, the lecture consisted of a very dry description of a big bad evil religious group that enslaved and tortured humanoid animals and forced them to wear pants, emotionally neutral descriptions of bombings, clonings, and chemical tinkerings that brainwashed some of them into wearing pants, and then a very angry ramble about how, ten years ago, the furniture he ordered from Target.com arrived all busted up and broken, at which point he burst into tears and wouldn't move for several minutes.
    Nightshade treated the whole thing as background noise, preferring to focus on memorizing the layout of the building. The first portion of the lecture took him through a back corridor similar to the one they'd gotten trapped in, through a gate, and through a sewer identical to the one they'd originally climbed into, minus the hole in the ceiling. Then they marched down a staircase to a landing resembling a subway platform.
    By the time they reached the point in the lecture about the brainwashings and forced manufacture of denim (*uncomfortable* denim), they'd entered another long tunnel, passed through a hole in a rusty metal fence, squeezed by a giant broken fan, and crossed into a long concrete service tunnel.
    When they'd gotten to the point in the lecture about the furniture, they'd reached a cave tunnel with slick quartz walls that split into three tunnels. And this is where Eyeclops chose to sit on the floor and ball his eyes, er, "eye" out.
    "Great," said Templeton. "Just when we needed directions."
    "What a wimp!" said Melissa.
    "Mump umble ooga (larvar)," said Bongo.
    "That's brilliant!" Templeton sat down next to the creature. "Hey, uh, *shir*. How would you describe the way they dropped the furniture?"
    "Well, sloppily, of course," said the Chakat.
    "Would you say it fell apart messily?"
    Eyeclops hopped to its feet. "Yes! Despite how carefully I opened the packaging, the pieces fell easily to the ground, breaking eventually, frustratingly and cheaply!"
    "Chakats love adverbs," Templeton muttered to Nightshade. "Anything ending in LY. I think they spend all their time reading those Preppie Wizard School books." He made gagging motions.
    "We'll be through this tunnel quickly," said Eyeclops. "And then we'll be a the river shortly, and hopefully Threearm will be there readily."
    Melissa groaned.
    The creature led them down the far left tunnel a few yards, and soon they stood in front of a dock, where two motorboats had been tied. He saw gas cans, life rafts, oil, and other useful things stacked up nearby, as if the place had seen frequent use.
    A glass booth overlooked the place, through which he could see a radio, security cameras and some computers.
    As Nightshade wandered closer to the booth, he noticed two tiny letters scratched on the glass: D.B.
    Leaning forward, the hybrid looked more closely at the etching, making sure that it really was what it looked like, then he turned to the Chakat. "Do you know a bat named Darren Black?"
    "Bat?" Eyeclops blinked.
    "Yes, a bat."
    "Hmmm...sounds vaguely familiar..."
    "Would this help any?" Melissa held up a badge.
    Nightshade took the badge, staring at it for a minute. "Where'd you get this?"
    She shrugged. "For some reason I found it stuck up my sleeve."
    He showed it to Eyeclops.
    "Oh yeah. That guy. He's cool, but he doesn't understand the phrase `I want mine with anchovies.'"
    Melissa's mouth fell open. "He was a delivery boy?"
    The Chakat laughed. "If he was, he would have been fired a long time ago. The pizza was always cold, and it tasted funny. But you can't complain about free pizza. Sure would be nice to have some now!" The creature smacked its lips. "The new guy never brings us any. We mostly live on vending machine food and sewer vermin." It shrugged. "I'm so sick of grubbing change for Paydays and Snickers bars."
    "How long ago was it that you knew Darren Black?" Nightshade interjected. "What else can you tell me about him? Anything you can think of at all."
    "It's been a few years." Eyeclops shrugged. "I don't remember that much, unfortunately. I'm not the youngest Chakat, tragically, so my memory isn't that good. I remember it was good pizza, it just tasted a little funny. Maybe he sneakily put something in it."
    "If only we could buy things with adverbs," Templeton muttered.
    "So that's all you remember?"
    The Chakat nodded. "That was some good pizza."
    Melissa frowned, putting her paws on her hips. "It figures he doesn't know anything."
    Nightshade shook his head. "So you don't remember anything else?"
    "Hmmm..." That pretty much shut the Chakat down.
    "What's this?" said Templeton.
    Nightshade turned and saw the rat waving around a pill bottle. "I found this on a raft. The prescription looks funny, and there's paper stuffed inside." He threw the bottle to him.
    Nightshade stared at the label.
    DB PHARMACY
    9554 Ave W
    Wyse, Colorato 02715
    KCALBLIAG HATCH
    LOOK CAREFULLY 1 PLC BEFORE HOME

0	0	/	^	0	0
0	0	Y	L	-	*
\	v	^	[	]	0
0	I	0	0	0	0
0	1	0	0	0	0

    Store Phone 6559 RX#47915
    "Look carefully 1 PLC before home," he muttered.
    "Wait," said Templeton. "Let me see that again."
    He squinted at the label. "It's a map!" He held it up, pointing to the symbols. "If the number one is where we are now, the rest of this must be paths somewhere."
    Melissa snatched the bottle out of his paws. "It's a pretty crappy map if you ask me."
    "Maybe he was trying to hide it from someone." He snatched the bottle back. "Let's see...it's six units by six units..." He scratched the pattern out in the dirt, and it indeed resembled a map.
    "What's KCALBLIAG?"
    Templeton stared at the text. "It's Gail Black backwards."
    The name jarred something loose in Nightshade's mind, but he couldn't place where he heard it.
    "I wonder what that other stuff means."
    "I'm sure there's a hatch somewhere, but I'm not sure where. I guess it could be at the address."
    "That would be too simple. Someone just had too much fun with a label maker."
    "That bottom part looks like real contact information, if we can ever get out of here."
    "Well, this is apparently the way out...what's the paper say?"
    Templeton took the paper out. "To my son Gail..."
    A small photograph flopped to the ground.
    "You dropped something, honey." Then the owl picked it up, gasping as she stared at the image. "This paper contains a spirit! What evil sorcery is this!" She threw it to the ground.
    "Let me see that," Melissa grumbled, snatching it up. "`Gail Black. Age three.'" She stared at the picture, then at Nightshade, then at the picture again. "This kinda looks like you. He's sort of a bat, sorta feline, and..." She marched up to him, pulling on his ear. "Let me see something."
    "There had better be a good explanation for this," he growled.
    "Did you know you've got a blue spot on the inside of your ear?"
    "What?" He of course had, but the dot was so tiny that he didn't think anyone else did. She showed him the photograph, a picture of a hybrid child in the loving embrace of a female jaguar and male bat in a t-shirt.
    Stepping closer to Templeton, Nightshade quickly extended a hand toward the rat's wrist, using a deft strike meant to surprise rather than truly injure. Snatching the paper out of the air in the same motion, he brought it to his own gaze and began to silently scan the written words.

    To my son Gail.
    I wish I could have been a better father to you, but life does not often go according to plan. I had dreams of you using your natural gifts to pursue a career in sports or dance or law enforcement, or (perhaps if you really wanted to make me proud) use your gifts to gather scientific data in inaccessible places, but that cursed cat wants you for some evil purpose.
    I shouldn't have made that deal with him, but your mother and I cannot reproduce normally, and we had no other way of bringing you into the world. But you're strong, Gail. I have already seen the results of some of your temper tantrums, so I know someday you will be bigger than him. Someday you will overcome him. And when you do, I have a gift for you.
    I know this won't replace the time I wasn't there for you, but it's all I can do. You're being taken away from me. Already you have lost a mother, and now I fear for my life.
    I cannot say more here. If you wish to know more, go to the hiding place on this map and you should be able to find at least a few answers about who you are.
    With love,
    Your father.

    Nightshade flipped the paper over, but saw no map, only a blank surface showing the letter to be written on some sort of high quality textured paper. "Was there anything else in the bottle?"
    "No," said Templeton. That's it. Why?"
    "No reason." He frowned.
    "It looks like we should get in these rafts," said Templeton. "I think the guy left the note here for a reason."
    "Unghabunk! Larvar!" The ape protested.
    "Sorry, big guy. It's our best bet. There's two rafts. We can do this thing."
    "What do you think, `Gayle'?" Melissa chuckled.
    "It's the only lead I have to my father, and so I shall," Nightshade replied, taking hold of one of the rafts. "But nothing is forcing you to follow me."
    She shrugged. "How about my desire to get out of here?" She grabbed the raft, pushing it out on the water.
    The rat grabbed the other raft, gesturing for Bongo to climb aboard.
    "Ungh-unh."
    "C'mon! It's our only way out!"
    The ape crossed his burly arms, grunting something long and unintelligible, frequently involving the word larvar.
    "Bongo! Do you want to spend all your life down here with these creepy gay things, or do you want to go back home and eat store bought bananas and play SSX 3?"
    "Mmmm...hufannas (larvar)."
    Water exploded everywhere as the ape leapt into the raft, nearly capsizing it. The fact that it didn't seemed to be a feat that defied all physics.
    "Ahem."

Back to Gardenia Furry RPG