Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 69
69
Bethany kept throwing suspicious glances at that empty bed in the corner, almost daring it to show her that delusion again, the one with Rufio and all the... all the stuff that wasn't real. If she could see it again, she was positive she'd be able to shrug it off as just the product of an overworked, overstressed, overworried mind. Nothing more, nothing less.
But it simply stayed an empty bed, perfectly dry and devoid of blood, if a bit wrinkled.
And of course it would be! That's what it was, after all. Seeing something as anything other than what it actually was should be the cause for concern here, not the opposite.
"- to put this?"
Bethany jumped and almost dropped the tray of knives she was carrying. "What was that, Layla?"
"I asked where I should put these." She held up two pairs of pliers, a big one and a small one. Their teeth made nasty little clicking noises like the pincers of oversized insects.
"Just, um... Just put them with the scissors."
"Okay."
Bethany waited for the girl to turn around before letting out all her pent up breath in a silent, quivering sigh. She put down the knives, being very careful not to rattle them too badly. It was this atmosphere that's gotten her so jittery. How was she supposed to concentrate on anything with this pall hanging over her head? This heavy sense of impending doom was too much for anyone to handle, but now that all the prepwork was done, she didn't have anything to occupy her mind with, nothing to focus on. And with Kiana off decorating the woods with sputum due to her 'illness', she didn't even have any -
Wait a minute...
"Layla, how long has your sister been gone for?"
"Oh, um..." Layla gave it some thought. "I dunno. A while?"
Bethany looked around the empty tent, at the empty beds and all the tools neatly aligned on the tables, and the realization hit her all at once. "Oh... That sneaky... little... bint! If she's where I think she is!"
"Mother?"
"I'm going to kill her! 'Illness' be damned!" She stormed towards the exit, unable to believe how foolish she'd been, seizing on the thought of a disobedient daughter the same way a drowning Fox might grasp at a straw, anything to keep her mind away from the untold horrors that may or may not be waiting to pass under her operating knife in the coming hours. "What was the first thing I told you girls not to do!?"
"Um... don't go near the wall?" Layla ventured.
"Don't go near the wall!" Bethany untied the eyelets (wrenched them loose was more like it) and the wind nearly ripped the flaps clean out of her grasping fingers. Even though the woods were relatively thick here, the storm was still blowing through in strong gusts, howling through the trees and pushing drifts of snow up against the trunks.
She put one foot outside, squinting into the night, and the face of a tortured spectre suddenly loomed out of the white darkness of the storm, its eyes half-lidded and its fur covered in clumps of frost. Laboured breathing issued from its open mouth in plumes of mist, quickly snatched by the wind and ripped away. Dark spots of blood bloomed from its hands, the most colourful thing to be seen aside from the spluttering torches and campfires.
Bethany stumbled back inside and nearly screamed before realizing that this creature wasn't alone. It was accompanied by two others, supporting it beneath the arms like a trio of drunkards about town.
The one on the left raised his head and Bethany was shocked to see that it was Old Jon from the mill. "Hey, Betty. We could really use some help here."
"Jon?" she said, flummoxed. The one on the right gave a little wave, and Bethany was no less surprised to see that it was his son, Jonah. "What are you two-"
Oh dear gods, has it started already? Did Ander's plan fail? What's going on out there!?
Before she could ask any of these things, the one in the middle lifted his head and gave her the most exhausted smile she had ever seen. "Hello, Bethany-Kai," he croaked, clearly struggling to keep his voice even. "Now, I know this looks bad, but if you're going to murder me, can you at least do it by the fire? Because I'm not quite sure I remember what warmth feels like."
Layla jumped up and practically flew across the room in her excitement. "Dan!? Oh my word, what are you doing here?"
And then, to complete the quartet of stupidity, little Renna peeked out from behind Jonah's back like a lost little sheep, looking around the tent with big, shiny eyes.
"Oh, well, you know..." Danado began, shuffling his still recovering feet through the snow. "I was -"
Bethany didn't let him get any further than that. She seized him by the ear and yanked him inside, not caring in the least that he was two heads taller than her. "Get in here, you!"
"Ow, my ear!" he yelled, hobbling along as she yanked him towards the fire, bent over double.
"Sit! Down!"
Danado plopped down on one of the beds (it creaked alarmingly beneath his weight) and rubbed his ear with his stubby, mutilated fingers, suddenly looking a whole lot smaller than he actually was. No more than a naughty child, really. And speaking of naughty children... "You, too, Renna! Get in here before you freeze your tail off! Good gods! "
Renna came shuffling in, her hands folded tightly against her chest and her gaze firmly planted on the ground. She sat down next to Danado and carefully curled her tail into her lap. She still wouldn't look up.
"Just what... in the name... of all that is holy... do you think you're doing out here!?" Bethany shouted, perhaps a bit louder than intended.
Renna gave a little jump and grabbed her tail, squeezing it in a kind of deathgrip. Danado, however, only seemed grateful to be out of the cold, and was holding his hands up to the fire, turning them around and around with the stupidest grin on his face.
Layla giggled, and Bethany quickly silenced her with a single, furious sideways glance.
"'Scuze me, Betty?" Old Jon crackled his back with a grimace. "Ooourg, that's better... You have a minute?"
"Maybe after I'm done murdering this imbecile. And would somebody please shut that damn door!?"
Jonah grabbed the flaps and quickly tied them shut, but they were still making that horrid rippling noise. Well, nothing she could do about that. These two, on the other hand...
Bethany planted her hands on her hips. "I'm still waiting for an answer, Danado!"
"Er... well..." Danado glanced at Layla, then pretended to look down at his fingers. Oh, she knew exactly what he was doing here, all right.
"Please, Bathany-Kai, don't be mean to Dan," Renna suddenly piped up, wringing her tail between her hands like a dirty old washcloth. "He's only here because of me. He promised Sorrin he would look after me, but I was selfish and... and I didn't want to stay up on that hill when... when..."
"When Hezzi is down here, is what you're trying to say?"
She nodded, bit down on her lower lip, and said: "Could I... maybe go see...?"
"No you may not go see him!"
Gods up in heaven, please save me from all this lovesick teenager malarkey...
"Aw! I think it's sweet." Layla reached over and pinched Renna's cheek like some overbearing aunty, which only irritated Bethany even further.
"Excuse me, but it is most certainly not sweet! It's stupid!" She rounded on Danado again. "Did you forget that this place is soon going to turn into a battlefield? And you thought it was a good idea to bring a child here?"
"Mother! Don't be mean!" Layla seized Danado's hands with stars in her eyes, her tail swishing back and forth. "They braved the treacherous depths of the stormy night, injured, but resolute, stoically determined to fulfil their quest to be reunited with their loved ones, to stand with them in their time of peril, to face the darkness together! Oh my word it's so romantic I'm gonna die!"
"Bull pies! They're just randy!" She jerked a thumb at Jon and Jonah. "If they hadn't been there, who knows what would have happened? Dan might have lost what little he has left of his toes to frostbite! Does that still sound romantic to you?"
"Incredibly."
Bethany threw her hands in the air and turned to (hopefully) the only other sane individuals in this tent besides herself. "Jon, Jonah, thanks for helping these idiots out."
"'Twas no problem," Jon said. "But if I could trouble you for a bit of your time, Betty, there's something of deadly importance I need to discuss with you."
"And that would be?" Bethany expected him to say something about the wall, or perhaps this ungodly weather, but instead she got a blast from the past that nearly knocked her onto her tail.
"It's my brother. He's come back. Him and his kids."
"James?" Just the name was enough to send a hundred pleasant memories flashing through her mind, images of James and Rufio sitting on their unfinished roof, hammering nails into planks and telling dirty jokes while Bethany scolded them from down on the ground with two little girls clinging to her apron strings. "He's here? Where?" She looked over Jon's shoulder, half-expecting the long-lost Fox to come jumping out of his back pocket.
"Back at my house. I didn't dare move him, you see. He's in a bad way."
That instantly set the alarm bells ringing in her head, and Bethany was all business. "What happened?"
"He got stabbed."
"With a fireplace poker," Jonah added, pointing to the left side of his chest. "Right here, above the heart."
"Stabbed?" Bethany could hardly believe it. "When? And by whom?"
"Several days ago. Him and his kids had to walk through the woods to get here. It was all because of a big black Wolf named 'Banno'."
Everything changed in that moment. The wind still howled outside, rippling the tent, but it was as if all sounds had simply wilted away. The firepit still blazed, but it was as if all the warmth and light had bled out and disappeared, leaving them all in the dark.
I couldn't have heard that right, she thought. I couldn't have.
But as shocked as she felt, the Wolves in the room looked even worse. Renna froze in place like a doll, her mouth slightly open and her eyes open wide, and Danado looked like he had seen a ghost. All the strength ran out of his arms and they simply dropped to his sides, completely limp, and the strangest sound came from between his lips, a frightened little moan. It was the sound of a small child waking up from a terrible nightmare, unsure of whether he was really back in his bed or still stuck in whatever horror had roused him from his sleep.
"Flavour of Death?" he whispered, staring at Jon and slowly shaking his head. "No... You're lying, right? Tell me you're lying."
"I-" Jon looked around the tent at all the flabbergasted faces, perhaps only now beginning to understand the true magnitude of what he had said. "I don't know what else to tell you. It's the name James gave me."
Bethany pulled him aside. "Jon, this is very important. Did James mention any distinguishing characteristics? Any scars, or wounds, or...?"
"He got one foot and one eye. But that isn't the important thing right now! Ten to one that Wolf is long dead, and good riddance! It's James I'm worried about! I did the best I could, but... I dunno, Betty!"
An exceptionally large, black Wolf with a missing eye. That fit Ander's story exactly.
"Then it's him..." Danado muttered from his spot by the bed, sitting forward and running his hands through his hair. "It's really him... Oh Cora!"
"Banno is dead, one hundred percent, mark my words," Jon insisted. "According to James he got carved up like a Summerend ham, and he went galumphing off into the snow on one foot right after, and he's completely out of his mind to boot. If he didn't bleed to death after the first hour, then the cold got 'im after the second. Now, if you'd all refocus your attention on what's truly important, namely the brother I left at my house, sick and injured, possibly on the brink of death, with nobody to look after him but a trio of well-meaning, but ultimately powerless children, then maybe somebody could be so kind as to give us some help!? Just a thought!"
Bethany gave herself a mental slap in the face to clear the cobwebs. "All right, Jon. I'll do whatever I can. But first you need to tell me how bad it is and what you did."
"Okay..." Jon nodded and began to collect himself. "It was... pretty bad. Deep cut, 'bout so wide." He held his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. "He tried to cauterize it, but did a half-arsed job. I think it mighta got infected."
"What did the wound look like around the edges?"
"Reddish. Kinda puffy and swollen."
"Fever?"
"He was a little hot, yeah."
Bethany clicked her tongue. That was a classic case of infection. And all the time he had spent outside in the elements wouldn't do him any favours. If left like that, he could die.
"But I cleaned it up!" Jon added hastily, perhaps out of a sense of responsibility. "Musta poured half a bottle of brandy in there. And not the cheap stuff either!"
"That's all right, Jon. You did well." Brandy was indeed good for infections, but in his haste to find help, he had overlooked one crucial aspect.
How was she supposed to be in two places at once? She couldn't leave this place, and she certainly couldn't send Layla or Kiana. The blizzard was getting worse by the minute! It was all too easy to imagine them struggling through the snow, two hunchbacked shadows in a sea of white. What if they lost their way? What if they collapsed and froze to death in each other's arms, the snow slowly covering their bodies like a shroud? And that wasn't even the worst! What about Banno? If some gigantic, child-murdering Wolf was out there, wandering the wilds, then that was even more reason to stay put. That thing tried to kill Kiana once before, and it nearly succeeded.
You are a healer, Bethany, her mother's voice came floating out of the depths of her mind, like it almost always did when she got stuck. You promised to help people, no matter what.
But how!? There was an army matching towards their doorstep and a blizzard pouring down from the sky! She was needed here! She couldn't move even if she tried! Nobody could! They were all stuck!
"Y-You can help 'im out, right?" Jon asked, bending down slightly to look into her downcast eyes. "Right, Betty?"
Think, Beth, Think!
Bethany rubbed her temples. "Was James coherent when he spoke to you? Did he ramble at all? Maybe have conversations with Foxes that weren't there? Anything like that?"
"Nooo?" Jon glanced at Jonah, and Jonah shrugged. "No, he was pretty well done in, sure, but he knew where he was and who he was talkin' to. Talked quite a lot, actually. He did ramble a little bit, but I 'spect that was more of a 'fleeing for their lives' thing, rather than an 'infection's frying his brain' thing."
Bethany nodded. If James hadn't sunk into a delirium, then he should be fine for at least several hours. That was good. But how was she supposed to convince Jon of that?
"Listen, Jonathan..." she said, choosing her words very carefully. "You must realise we are all in a very difficult position right now."
"That bloody well goes without saying."
"Very soon, many Foxes might need my help. I pray they won't, but, if I'm going to be honest, I think that's very unlikely. I think there will be blood and death before this night is through, and my daughters and I are the only ones who can keep it to a minimum. And with the snow coming down the way it is, I... I'm very sorry, Jonathan, but I don't think there's anything I can do for you at this time."
Jonathan turned around and started walking in a big, slow circle, occasionally stopping to look at all the tools laid out on the tables, shining in the gloom. "How long can he last like that?" he asked without turning around.
"If you cleaned his wound properly, and if his bandages get changed regularly, then he should make a full recovery without any help from me. All he needs is food, water, and plenty of rest by a warm fire."
"And the worst case scenario?"
"If... If the infection becomes serious, then... Jonathan, I simply cannot make an accurate prediction without actually seeing the wound, so -"
"Worst case scenario, Betty. What is it?"
Bethany sighed. "Worst case... He might not make it till morning."
Jonathan nodded gravely. "I figured you'd say something like that."
"Jonathan, please, I'm sorry, But I can't -"
"I'm not mad at you, Betty. You're just looking out for as many as you can. It's those _things_I'm mad at! It was one of them that hurt my brother. It was one of them that tried to kill my nephews and my niece. And now there's more of them keeping you stuck here, the one vixen who can help. Well... the way I see it, the best way to solve a problem is to take it out at the source. That's what the wall is for, isn't it?"
A bitter coldness swept through the tent. Maybe it was just the wind forcing its way through every little gap and tear, but Bethany didn't think so. "Yes..." she said, unconsciously taking a step back. "That's what it's for..."
Jonathan nodded again. "Well then. The only thing to do now is to win this 'war' as fast as possible. Then there'll be nothing keeping you here, am I right?"
Bethany nodded, unable to find her voice. Had she ever seen Jonathan acting remotely like this? The grumpy old Fox who'd always crackle his back and complain about every little thing? The Fox who'd yell at all the 'young'uns' to put more backbone into whatever they were doing, all while he sat in the shade, nipping from his flask of brandy? This was the same Fox, now speaking about eradicating who knew how many lives in a single shot?
And on the heels of those thoughts, an even more disturbing one...
He is acting the exact same way I felt immediately after seeing Rufie lying in that bed, slowly bleeding to death. He is thinking that any amount of killing will be okay, as long as the one he loves can be spared.
And that _terrified_her.
Bethany sat down heavily on one of the beds, taking slow, deep breaths.
She was beginning to understand why Ander was so afraid.
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