Ander - Part 4: Subchapter 43
43
"Why hello there, Jitters. Guess who's back."
Jitters didn't say anything. Neither did she stomp or snort. Stupid animal must have gone back to sleep. It was dark as a cave in here, but he'd soon fix that.
He hobbled over to the giant pile of dry grass heaped up against the far wall, scooped up as much as he could carry with one arm, then hobbled back. He arranged the grass all around the sleeping critter's pen, then went back twice more to grow the circle nice and tall. Why the Foxes kept kindling like this inside with their animals was beyond him, but he would make good use of it.
Next, he made a shallow dip in his kindling ring, then took the fire-starting kit from his mouth, flipped it open, took out one of his miniature candles and placed it inside, just like an egg in a nest. How cute. He scraped some flint powder and sprinkled it on the wick, being very careful not to get any on the grass. That was very important, and might save him some precious time later.
Now for the sooty box thing.
He hobbled back to the door, lifted the candle-box off its hook and put it down on the ground. Then, after a moment's consideration, he plucked the hook from the wood like a berry and dropped it on top. Now for the final touch.
He pressed the tip of his crutch against the transparent material and pushed down. If this was some kind of warm, unmelting ice, then it should still behave like ice, and ice always cracks under pressure.
Tink!
Beautiful.
He pushed down a little harder and the whole thing buckled beneath his weight, sending big triangles of ice bursting out at the sides with a musical tingle. This step was probably unnecessary, but if this part of the building miraculously remained intact, and the candle-box was still hanging from this post when the smoke cleared, then how did the fire begin? No possibilities left except Banno, the big friendly Wolf.
For a Fox to leave two gates unlocked and then having the most lethargic animal in existence take flight all on the same night was going against the odds. But for a Fox to forget about one little candle? That didn't seem so unlikely at all. And he knew for a fact that they frequented this place quite often because he could sometimes hear their voices coming from this general direction, talking and bickering with each other. Not only that, their scents were quite fresh, too. No older than a few hours, at most. James, Tim, and that insufferable Luke. Valery's scent was here too, but not as strong. She usually stayed inside most of the time. He wondered what she did during the day when her brothers were working outside, besides drawing flowers and calling for Mommy dearest. He'd have to punish her for that. He'd make it so that she understood fully who was deserving of her love and who was not, who was real and who was not. He'd make her -
No! This is the not the time for pleasant daydreams! Focus!
Banno gave his head a brief shake and stepped back to survey the scene. It looked like the hook had failed and the candlebox had shattered to the floor. There were some loose bits of dry grass around, some feathers, some clumps of fur accumulated against the walls and in the corners, and then there was the wall itself, all quite flammable. It was totally possible for a fire to spread from there, and even more importantly, believable.
"Okay... " he mumbled and sprinkled some more flint powder over the remains of the candle, being careful not to use too much. If James or one of the brats noticed that the flint had shrunk the very same night their animal prison went up in flames, that would be bad. But they wouldn't notice. He was being careful. He was Banno. He would succeed.
Only one more to go, and then the preparations would be complete.
"Haaaahh..." Banno sighed. The exhilaration of first coming up with such an ingenious plan and then executing it step by step was beginning to wear off. His fatigue, his fever, and worst of all, the maddening itch in his stump were all starting to creep back in. He'd have to hurry, otherwise he might pass out right here, and he didn't know how he'd explain his way out of something like this come morning.
"Just one more, just one more..." he whispered to himself, pushing off the ground with his crutch, again and again, until he reached the big pile of dead grass once more. He put the firestarting kit back in his mouth, scooped up a big armful, and then clickety-clacked his way over to the big doors at the front.
He dumped the whole lot in front of the door and made another little candle nest, same as the one around Jitters's pen.
Almost done.
His constant back-and-forth had woken some of the animals. He could hear them moving around, snorting and grunting. The pitiful little things had no idea what was about to happen to them, but Banno did. It gave him a special kind of feeling, different from the intense rush of direct killing. This was more subtle, but he liked it. Their lives were in the palm of his hand, and he could curl his fingers around and crush them into bloodpaste without them ever knowing why. It gave him a sense of power, but it was a little sad, too. They wouldn't die inside of him. They'd simply cease to exist. But sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. In this case, that was their purpose. To die outside of him so that Valery could find her true place, existing inside his existence. Surely they could understand that? He had a duty to her, to all the Foxes and Wolves and any others that might have that spark of life in their eyes, that awareness that signalled their ultimate purpose. The deaths of these animals would ensure that he could continue his life's work. It was noble of them, actually.
Beautiful.
Jitters was awake, too. She pawed the ground and shook her head, the fringe of hair over her eyes whipping around wildly. She was clearly more intelligent than the rest of these critters, so maybe she knew what was about to happen. Maybe she was excited. Maybe she was happy to be of service, dying for her masters so that they could achieve what she could not.
"You're not so stupid after all, are you, Jitters?" Banno whispered, lovingly tracing his hand down the back of her neck. She pulled away and made that gasping scream again, her whole body shaking with happiness.
"Whoa, girl. No need to be so impatient." Banno bent down, put the flynt against the striker and showered the tiny candle in sparks. It took flame on the first try, a pretty little glow amidst the golden grasses. The candle was thin, so it would only take a few minutes to burn through and set it all alight. The flames would spread all around the horse's pen, trapping her inside a glorious ring of fire, ensuring her sacrifice even if the Foxes were quick to try and save her. She would be dead before they even realized what was happening.
Banno turned around and headed for the broken candle-box, lurching forward on his crutch, sweat pouring down his face. The timer has started. He needed to finish his plan and get back in bed before that first candle burnt through.
This would be close.
He bent down, struck the flint, and another flame whooshed up to engulf the wick. Banno only took a single moment to admire the way the light danced between the broken shards of ice like a swarm of fireflies before moving on to the last one, the breath rushing in and out of his burning, aching lungs.
He pushed open the door, stepped over the candle-nest and into the uncomfortably nippy early-winter air. He'd make the cold go away for a while, make the world a much better place. He glanced at the main house, at all the windows still pitch dark in the night, nodded his approval, and turned to face the final candle. This was the one that would (hopefully) keep the Foxes outside long enough for the fire to do its job and kill the horse. As long as the horse died and there was no evidence to link him to the crime, he would win. The fun parts of life for Banno could always be likened to a series of games. Most he won immediately, but others, well... some victories only came after many setbacks, many delays, but he would always win in the end, and it was the difficult victories that always tasted best. That's just the way the world works. That's the way the world is. If he wanted to win, he would. And if anything happened in the opposite vein, then that was just something that would make the final victory even sweeter. Because everything that has ever happened and everything that is yet to happen is all a part of his existence, and his existence is to win. His existence is to devour. In a way, the fire was a lot like him. He liked fire. It was definitely real.
He bent down, struck the flint, and the third and final candle came to life, adding its own light to the wondrous display that would take place here very shortly. He only wished he could have stuck around long enough to watch it all unfold, to see the flames spread out with perfect timing, each one patiently waiting its turn to grow past its restrictions and engulf everything that was not itself. The three would merge before long, become one, all to fulfil his desires, so beautiful. But this was only one step towards an even greater miracle, one that would set him on the path to his true destiny. It started with Vallah, and it would continue with Valery. The rest of her family too, but they were only an afterthought compared to her, merely the leaves and roots that support the stunning flower on top, the flower he would consume and make a part of himself forever. What came after that? Ander? Kiana? Who knows? It was all wonderful.
Banno took one last look inside. All three candles were burning merrily. The one next to Jitters was already dripping yellow beads of tallow onto the dead grass.
"Goodnight, Jitters," Banno whispered, pushing the door shut. "And thank you." He slid the bolt home, turned towards the house, and started to make his way back, finally getting used to the rhythm of the crutch.
He felt like he was walking on clouds.
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