Links - Chapter 27 - Coryn

The door to the Hathaway house flew open with a crash, the handle flying free from the frame. Before the knob even hit the ground, Mel thundered through the entrance, the evening light casting a long, dark shadow across her front hall. In her arms, she held a limp and bleeding Coryn.

"Lord's sake Mel!" Duke protested, following Mel into her house. "What's gotten into you?!"

Mel ignored her nephew, gently patting Coryn's face as the old cat drew shuddering breaths. "It's okay Coryn, it's okay, just hold on."

As quickly as she could, Mel carried Coryn up the stairs to her bedroom, doing her best to keep him steady in her arms.

"Just keep breathing," she whispered, stroking his face. "Just keep breathing, we're almost there."

The door broke with a splintering crash as she kicked it hard. As the ruins of the door swung open, Mel hurried over to her bed and gently set Coryn down.

Coryn shivered and moaned as Mel set about covering him with blankets and putting a pillow under his head.

"M...my apologies master... I didn't have... time to wash..."

"Shhh... it's okay."

"What's gotten into you?" Duke asked as he arrived in the doorway. "Mel, you're acting crazy."

Mel spun around, glaring at Duke. "Get out of my house! Now!"

Turning back to Coryn, Mel gently pushed a few strands of blood-matted fur away from his eyes.

"Just hang on Coryn. You're going to be fine, okay, just keep breathing, help is on the way."

"A-as you w-wish..."

"Go and get a doctor," Mel demanded, looking back over her shoulder. "Get Dr. Clarkson! Now!"

"It's just a pelt Mel, I don't see the big deal."

"I said, get the doctor, now!"

Duke's face flushed and his hands tightened into fists. "Hey! I am the chief justice of Lillyvale! You don't give me orders!"

"You did this." Mel barked, stalking forwards and putting her hand on the butt of her pistol. "How dare you! How dare you treat him this way!"

"He's a pelt!"

"Yes, MY pelt." Mel drew herself up in front of Duke, pulling her gun from its holster and holding it at her side. "Now go get a doctor, because so help me, cousin, if Coryn dies I will tear you a-fucking-sunder!"

As Duke opened his mouth to respond, another call rang out from the bottom of the stairs. "Sir, ma'am, is everything okay?"

"It's fine!" Duke shouted back. "Stay where you are!"

Mel leaned close, forcing Duke back against the doorframe. "Take your goons, get out of my house, and go get doctor Clarkson, now!"

Glaring back at Mel, Duke detached from the doorframe and turned to leave. As he did he glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Aunt, but this obsession you have with protecting these creatures is dangerous. If you make an enemy of Agent Baskerville, I won't be able to protect you! Remember whose side you are on."

As Duke left, Mel hurried over to her dressing table and tore open one of the drawers. Grabbing hold of a handful of bandages she turned back to her bed and knelt down beside Coryn.

The old cat's breathing was ragged and fast. His face was marked with bruises, one of his eyes swollen shut, with blood running from his muzzle.

"Coryn... I am so, so sorry... I swear to the Lord, I will make this right."

"M-master..." Coryn's voice was weak as he tried to speak. "Master... I... I'm..."

"It's okay," Mel said quietly, stroking Coryn's head. "It's okay, just rest and relax. You're home and safe. No one will touch you here, I promise."

The minutes passed by agonisingly slowly as Mel tried her best to tend to Coryn's wounds. His body was covered in bruises and scratches, the cuts covered in mud and filth. The sight of her old friend and caretaker so badly beaten filled Mel with a powerful, pulsing rage that made it hard for her to keep her hands steady.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when finally, Mel heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Moments later, a man in a long red coat appeared in the doorway, a thick leather bag in his left hand.

Mel clambered to her feet as fast as she was able. "Dr. Clarkson, thank the Lord."

"Ms. Hathaway, I heard there was trouble."

"Yes, yes indeed." Mel hurriedly wiped off her hands and gestured at Coryn. "Please, help him."

The doctor stepped forward, pulling on a pair of gloves until he noticed Coryn's furred face.

"Wait... this is the patient?"

"Yes. He's been beaten and I think he's bleeding inside. Please-"

"Ma'am... this is a pelt."

Mel paused. "Yes, and?"

"Madam, I treat humans, not animals."

"I... You..." Mel took a moment to pause and catch her breath before speaking again, her anger and frustration barely contained. "Listen, Doctor, I will pay whatever you want."

Dr. Clarkson simply shook his head. "It isn't a matter of money, it is a matter of morality."

"Morality?! He's hurt and needs help!"

"Be that as it may, to use my skills to treat a non-human... it would be blasphemy."

Mel was literally shaking with anger as she took a step forward. "Listen to me, I-"

"Do you see these hands?" Dr. Clarkson raised his hands, slowly testing his fingers. "These are instruments, tools that I honed to serve the Lord and her people. "

Despite a burning urge to shoot the doctor where he stood, Mel instead simply stood her ground. "What would you suggest then?" She asked through tightly gritted teeth.

***

"Gotta say, I weren't expecting a call this late from you Ms. Hathaway."

Mel nodded as she gestured for the man to step inside her house. Allec Darren was Lillyvale's resident riding hound expert, and a friend of the Hathaway family. He'd been visiting the Hathaway ranch for as long as Mel could remember, helping his father tend to the many hounds.

"Thank you for coming, Allec," Mel replied, hurriedly gesturing for him to follow. "Please, he's this way."

Suppressing a yawn and making an effort to fix his messy blonde hair, Allec followed along behind Mel. He'd been roused from his bed by Mel's messenger knocking on his door, and as a result, his appearance was somewhat dishevelled.

"Yeh know Emmit Gladston is the usual pelt doc," Allec called out as he struggled to keep up with Mel. "He'd most likely be better for this kind of-"

"He's eight miles out of town, and there is no guarantee he would come this late at night." Mel interrupted, leaping up the stairs three at a time. "Coryn can't wait and you are the only one I knew I could depend on!"

"Well, I suppose that's a good reputation to have." Allec shrugged, following Mel up the stairs and down the hall. As he reached the door to Mel's bedroom he paused.

"What's the matter?" Mel demanded.

"Well, miss... it's just, to enter a lady's bedroom in this manner-"

"Oh for Lord's sake!" Mel grabbed hold of Allec's coat and dragged him through the door.

The moment Allec stumbled into Mel's room he took one look at Coryn and his brow furrowed. "Lord's breath... they really did a number on him. Poor ol' Coryn..."

"Just save him, please," Mel begged.

"I'll... well I'll do what I can." Allec looked back at Mel. "Gotta be honest... kindest thing probably be a bullet though."

"Never."

Allec stepped forward and raised the blanket, peering over Coryn's body. After a moment he looked back at Mel, his expression grim. "Miss Hathaway.... Mel, this really doesn't look good. I got some essence of wolfsbane in my bag... couple drops on his tongue and he'll go quiet and painless-"

"We are not going to kill him. So either help him, or I'll find someone else!"

With a heavy sigh, Allec got back to his feet and crossed his arms. "Well... in that case, I'm going to need as much sugar as you can give me, the strongest alcohol you can find, some hot water, couple o' stalks of goldenrod or yarrow if you have it, and some needle and thread."

"I think we have yarrow in the garden, and my father had some old whisky he had been saving since he was a boy."

"Good." Allec rolled up his sleeves and knelt back down beside the bed, pulling his bag close. "Get me that and I'll do what I can."

Mel wasted no time rushing about, getting the materials that Allec had requested. She tore through her house like a whirlwind, throwing open cabinets and tearing drawers clean out of their sockets.

Every moment felt like a blur and a thousand years at the same time, every beat of her heart filled with more panic than the last.

'I have to save him... Coryn... Please hold on.'

After stumbling through the garden to grab as much yarrow and goldenrod as she could, and tossing all the sugar she could find into a leather bag, Mel headed to the cellar. The moment she arrived, she seized hold of a hammer hanging on the wall and began pounding on the floor. The floorboards splintered and cracked, giving way and revealing a safe buried in the floor.

Mel's hands were a blur as she pressed a sequence of runes.

"Come on!"

With a loud click the safe opened. Within were a number of leather-bound folders, a few books filled with family pictures and awards for service, and a modest stack of gold coins. On the left-hand side of the safe, in an elegantly carved box wrapped in a velvet cloth, was her goal.

Mel paused, only for an instant, as she reached for the bottle. Though she never drank herself, she had carefully cared for the whiskey that had been her father's her whole life. He had bestowed it upon her, with all the pomp and reverence of a king presenting a sword to his favoured knight when the doctors had diagnosed him with the illness that would take his life.

But her hesitation didn't last. Pulling the bottle free from its nest, she shoved it into the basket and took off back upstairs.

"Here it is." She announced as she reentered her room. "Sugar, yarrow, goldenrod, needle and thread, whisky."

"Hot water?"

Mel raised a bucket of steaming hot water.

"I put a heating rune in the bottom to keep it hot."

"Right, good thinkin'. Go on an' set it all on that table there."

Hurriedly Mel set the items down before going back to Coryn's side. In the meantime, Allec moved over to the table and began sorting through the items.

"Sugar, good... Needle and thread... Is this... by the Lord's holy bodice!" Allec froze as he caught sight of the bottle. " This is a Jameson Ten Fifty! This bottle's gotta be worth ten slaves!"

"Not to me!" Mel snarled, gripping Coryn's hand.

"Right right, got'er, just give me a sec." Popping the stopper off the bottle, Allec took a swig. With a woop he shook his head, all traces of fatigue gone. "Oh ho! That... that there is some good firewater."

"Allec!"

"Right." Allec cleared his throat. "Sorry, that swig alone was worth more than I make in a year... Alright, I'm gonna need you to get out."

Mel's eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look, ain't none of this gonna be pleasant, and I don't need you hopping about, askin' what I'm up to every time he twitches. Go downstairs, have a cuppa something, and I'll be down when I'm done."

"But-"

"Mel, I promise, I will do everything I can for him. He's a tough cat, I'll pull him through somehow."

For a long moment, Mel stood, unable to decide. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she nodded. "Alright... alright. Just... please, please save him."

"Try not to worry miss, I'll do all I can."

Mel gently squeezed Coryn's hand. "Live, that's an order. Please..."

Summoning up as much strength as he could, Coryn nodded once and managed a weak smile. "Y-yes ma'am."

Releasing Coryn's hand and glancing at Allec, Mel left the room.

With a deep breath, Allec put a hand on Coryn's shoulder. "Right ol boy, let's start by seein' if we can get you through the night."

***

As the bedroom door closed behind her, Mel felt an all-encompassing rage run through her. She drew back her fist to hit the wall across from her, but her anger swiftly faded, her arm falling limply back to her side.

She looked back as a whimpering moan sounded from the other side of the door. Every fibre of her body screaming at her to go back to Coryn's side.

With a shivering sigh, Mel turned and descended the stairs toward the kitchen.

***

By the time Allec arrived in the kitchen, Mel had already finished one pot of coffee and was working on making her second.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Allec!" Mel nearly dropped the pot as she noticed him. "Is Coryn alright?"

"Got him all patched up. I checked him thoroughly. It don't seem like he has any really bad internal injuries. Course they're all bad but..." Allec paused for a moment, "Well... either way, he's sleeping now, and if he makes it through the night, he should be okay."

"Makes it through the night?!"

Allec held up his hands. "Whoa whoa, calm down. Look, he's got every chance in the world. But he's old, and he's been through a pretty bad shock."

"Shouldn't we be with him?"

"He's sleeping now. Best thing to do is let him rest."

With a heavy sigh, Mel dropped into a chair, staring down at her empty cup. "He's been with me since the day I was born... If he dies.... if he dies..." Mel's hands bunched into fists. "If he dies, I'll take off Duke's head with Coryn's pruning shears!"

"Cripes... You really care for him, eh."

"That a problem?" Mel demanded, her tone sharper than she had intended.

Allec shook his head as he poured himself some coffee. "Not at all. Kinda nice actually, seeing someone treating 'em with a little respect. I've been to farms and such where the folks wouldn't dream of so much as raising a hand to their hounds, but will turn round and beat their slaves half to death."

"Coryn is different... he's special."

"Oh sure. I'm just saying."

Mel sighed again, staring down at her cup. "It's all my fault..."

"Ah come on, I doubt that. But speaking of... what damn well happened? How'd Coryn manage to run afoul of, what I can only assume, were some right bastards."

Mel was quiet for a moment, staring down into her cup. Eventually, she took a breath and looked up at Allec. "Well... it all started this morning."

***

As Mel stepped through the front door of the Order chapter house, she was surprised to see that the inside was just as busy as the outside. A scaffold covered one whole wall, while a small army of young slaves were working to paint the others. Even the floor wasn't spared, with a full third of the boards torn up already and stacks of replacements laid against one of the walls.

Stepping around a large ladder, Mel strode up to the front desk. "Where's Chief Justice Duke?"

The man behind the desk raised an eyebrow as Mel stepped closer. "Well, morning to you too Ms. Hathaway. Something on yer mind?"

Fighting back the urge to snap, Mel took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, just a... a stressful morning. How are you, Case?"

"Eh, not t'bad, though I gotta say I'll be right pleased once these damn repairs are done." He sighed as he looked around. "You know, I never liked the state of this place before, but Chief Duke and that agent fella have got folks run off their feet with all these improvements 'round town."

Mel nodded. "I hear you. But, to be fair, the Chapter house hasn't looked this good in years."

"Yeah, that's what the chief said."

"Speaking of Chief Duke..."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Last I heard he was down in the cells paying our little rebel a visit."

"The rebel? You mean... the lapine boy?"

"Yeah. Turns out the bishop's visit has been delayed, so the little fool's execution has been pushed back. Guess the chief figures he might still be able to wring something useful out of the little bugger."

"I see..." Mel's hand twitched as she stepped away from the desk. "Thank you Case."

Mel turned and made her way towards the staircase leading down to the lower levels of the Chapter House, ignoring Case's calls.

She didn't need to go far before she heard the sounds of agonised screaming and whimpering. Without thinking she broke into a run, pushing several local deputies out of the way as she ran toward the interrogation chamber. She had no idea what it was she intended to do, only that she needed to get there and fast.

The lower levels of the chapter house were built like a root cellar, with walls of thick rock, illuminated by a few limited lighting runes. Despite the heat outside, the air in the lower levels was bitterly cold and filled with the underlying scent of wet wood and dirt. It was a miserable place, and Mel did her best to avoid it whenever possible. With each step she took, the screams and whimpering drew louder and louder.

A pair of agents sat at a table outside the door leading to the interrogation chamber, a game of Regicide laid out between them. Neither paid any attention to the sounds of pain and terror coming from behind the door.

"I'll raise... four larics."

"Four larics... and nine bits."

One of the agents looked up as Mel approached. "Agent Hathaway, morning."

"Is the rebel in there?" Mel demanded.

"Yeah, Chief Duke is just warming up-"

Before the man could finish, Mel threw open the door and barged into the interrogation room.

Like the rest of the lower levels of the Chapter House, the interrogation room was a dark and gloomy place, the air musty and cold. The stone floor was well worn with frantic claw marks and stained with the blood of those unfortunate enough to have spent any time there. Horrible spiked chains and manacles hung from the ceiling and walls, stained with both rust and blood.

In the centre of the room, lit from above by a harshly bright light rune, was a strong chair made from solid wood, reinforced with heavy metal bars. Sitting in the chair, his wrists and ankles secured by metal shackles was Trip.

The young lapine's chest rose and fell in desperate panic as he fought against his restraints. His eyes were wide and staring, unable to see more than shifting outlines in the darkness beyond the harsh light shining down on him. Dallet Baskerville stood at the back of the room, casually munching on an apple. He glanced up for a moment as Mel entered the room, before turning back to the show in front of him.

Mel was frozen in place for a moment as she stared at the young lapine. Her heart felt as if it would stop as he looked up at her, squinting into the dark. An instant later a loud crack rang out and Trip let out a howling wail.

"How many rebels escaped the destruction of your hideout?" Duke demanded, pacing around the chair, a long strip of wetted leather wrapped around his right hand.

"I don't know..." Trip moaned.

"How many!"

"A thousand!"

"How. Many!"

"W-well... with your mother included, at least-"

Another loud snap rang out and Trip let out another agonised cry. A thin stream of blood ran down from a fresh cut above his eye as he slumped in the chair.

Leaning forward and seizing hold of Trip's ears, Duke forced the lapine to meet his eyes. "Where did the other survivors go? Where are they hiding?"

Instead of answering, Trip tried to bite Duke's face. With a snarl, Duke released Trip's ears and began striking him again and again with his fists.

***

"Ma'am? Miss Hathaway?"

Mel looked up from her cup with a start. "Yes?"

"You... just sort of... stopped."

"I'm sorry... I was just... a little lost."

"Must have been pretty deep in the swamp there."

"Yes... I suppose so."

"So they were beating this lad?" Allec shook his head. "I heard they caught a rebel... but they made it sound like he was some... crazy-eyed beast, not a child."

"It's not like he's harmless... he has a lot of spirit." Mel sighed heavily, staring out of the window. "At least... he did."

***

With each thud of Duke's fist against Trip's body, Mel felt a tight lump in her chest grow tighter and tighter. The boy was sobbing desperately, but refused to beg for mercy as Duke beat him.

After one particularly violent strike to Trip's jaw, Duke stepped back, nursing a cut on his knuckles from one of Trip's teeth.

"Sonofabitch!" He growled, taking hold of a stick leaning against the wall. "I'll have those teeth of yours as a necklace, pelt!"

As Duke advanced on Trip, Mel could no longer restrain herself. She took a step forward, drawing in a breath to call out for Duke to stop. Before she could speak, Dallet spoke up.

"I think we forgo this barbaric foolishness," Dallet said, tossing the core of his apple over his shoulder. "This is an Order interrogation, not a bar fight."

"Sir?"

Dallet glanced up at Mel. "You, woman, bring me that case over there."

The case he was nodding at sat atop a nearby barrel. It was as long as Mel's forearm, and as wide as her palm. The symbol of the Order was carved into the lid.

"A gift from the Bishop of Burleigh county," Dallet explained as Mel hesitantly took hold of the box and extended it to him. "The official name for them are 'Lord's Teeth', though I prefer to call them truth-picks.

Mel's chest tightened even further as Dallet opened the box, revealing a pair of long, sharp needles, each with a thick metal handle covered in runes. They looked rather like what Mel had envisioned a magician's wand might look, though their razor-sharp tips made them seem far more threatening and wicked.

As Dallet took hold of one of the devices, he triggered the largest rune, carved into a piece of crystal mounted on the pommel of the needle. Almost immediately the tip of the needle began to glow a bright yellow-orange.

Trip shivered in terror as Dallet turned to him, lazily bringing the glowing tip of the needle towards his leg. He desperately tried to shift away from the needle, but found he could not move any further.

"Raid.... please..." Trip whimpered.

"Your hero is dead," Dallet said, his voice soft as he drew the glowing needle closer and closer to Trip's leg. "All the rebels are dead, except for you. I'm the only one who can save you... if I were so inclined."

With a loud clatter, Trip's chair tumbled over, though it was still bound to the floor by a hinge.

Dallet knelt down, staring into Trip's eyes. "Just take a deep breath and try to relax, it won't last for very long." Again, he slowly brought the needle closer and closer to Trip's leg.

A howling wail rang out from Trip as Dallet suddenly shifted, driving the needle deep into Trip's thigh. The smell of burning fur and flesh filled the room, turning Mel's stomach. Even the other agents looked uncomfortable, though a handful of them chuckled and let out subtle sounds of approval.

"There there, it's okay," Dallet crooned, removing the needle slowly as Trip gritted his teeth. "Take a breath little one, it's over."

Tears ran down Trip's cheeks as he shuddered in terror and agony. A steaming pool spread across the floor as he lost control of his bladder, much to the jeering amusement of the other agents.

Dallet watched a few wisps of smoke vanish from the tip of the needle as the last traces of Trip's blood boiled away. "The best part about these, you won't bleed. I put them inside you, and they'll hurt certainly, but they won't bleed."

"Wh-what do you want?" Trip whimpered as Dallet started to bring the needle back towards his flesh, aiming for one of his bound hands this time.

"Just try and hold still."

"What do you want?!"

"No no, we're past that now," Dallet whispered, smiling as he noted the glowing tip of the needle reflected in Trip's wide eyes. "You had your chance to do this the easy way."

Trip's fur started to curl and smoke as Dallet brought the glowing needle closer to his hand. "P-please!"

Dallet didn't answer, nor did he stop.

Mel couldn't bear to watch, but as she started to turn away, Trip's eyes met hers.

"Please..." He whimpered, his fingers stretching towards her.

Mel was still staring into Trip's eyes when Dallet gently pushed the glowing red needle into the back of his hand. Trip howled as again the sound of sizzling flesh filled the interrogation room.

"Shhhhhh, it's almost over." Dallet crooned as he worked the needle around in a circle, burning deep. "Aaaaannnnd, there we are, done."

Dallet removed the needle, having burned a hole right through Trip's hand.

"You know, in some provinces, when a pelt earns a whipping, they like to hammer a nail through their hand to hold them still, rather than just tying them? I always thought that was a bit much, the chance for contamination and rot setting in would be colossal." Dallet got back to his feet, examining the glowing tip of the needle. "But with this? The corruption is burned away with the flesh, no contamination at all."

Trip could make no answer, instead, he simply stared at Mel, his eyes pleading with her.

"Get him up." Dallet commanded, gesturing to the other Order agents.

"Now, the bishop wants you alive, so he can watch your execution in person." Dallet explained as Trip's chair was hauled off the floor and set back on its feet. "And he wants you relatively intact. But... on the other hand, I want to know where the survivors of your rebel cell went, and who else they had contact with. And I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you until I believe you are telling the truth."

"I don't know!" Trip wailed as Dallet turned back towards him, both needles in his hands now.

"Then you are going to be hurt a lot I am afraid."

Gathering up what courage he could, Trip snarled at Dallet. "M-my p-people are going t-to k-kill you! You and t-the rest of the s-smooth sk-skins!"

"That's it, I need you to be brave." Dallet moved closer to Trip and grabbed hold of his hair. "This one is going to hurt a lot I'm afraid."

Trip quaked in terror as Dallet moved the point of the needle toward his left eye.

Unable to watch, Mel turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. She had only gone a few steps before she heard Trip's cry of agony from within the room. She froze midstep, her hands shaking as she fought hard not to be sick.

"Aunt Mel?"

Mel didn't look back as Duke stepped into the hallway and approached.

"Aunt Mel, are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright!" She snapped, rounding on Duke. "That... that was sick!"

Duke blinked in surprise. "He's a rebel."

"You think I don't know that?!" Mel snarled, trying desperately to hold back the tears stinging the edges of her eyes. "Interrogation is one thing, but that bastard wasn't even asking questions! He's torturing that child for fun!"

"Will you keep your voice down!" Duke hissed. "And so what if he is, he's sending a message!"

"To who exactly?!"

"Well... the pelts of course!"

"There are no pelts in that room! And even if there were, the only message we'd be sending would be that we are exactly the monsters they think we are!"

"Will you- You can't say things like that!" Duke hissed.

Mel took a shaking breath. "If I'd known you were going to do this sort of thing to him, I'd have let him escape! Just like-"

"Just like what?" Duke leaned closer, his voice a harsh whisper. "Did you... did you let other rebels escape?"

"Don't be absurd." Mel snapped back.

"You didn't answer my question!" Duke's eyes widened. "Aunt Mel... you didn't... By the Lord, how could you do that?!"

"They were children! Scared, helpless children! They weren't 'rebels' any more than that boy is!"

"You heard him, if he had a chance he'd kill us all!"

"Because you are torturing him, and for no good reason!" Mel grabbed hold of the Order pin and tore it free from her jacket and held it up to Duke's face. "We're supposed to protect our people, not-"

Mel's words were interrupted by another shriek of pain from the interrogation room, followed by the sound of Trip desperately calling for Raid to save him.

"If that... if this is what the Order really stands for, then I don't want any part in it."

Dropping the pin on the floor, Mel turned and stormed out of the lower levels.

***

"Lord..." Allec shook his head. "I'd heard that the Baskerville fella was a right bastard... but that... Lord..."

"Yeah..." Mel shuddered. She raised her cup to take another drink of coffee, but found that her stomach turned at the scent.

"So... Iffin I might ask... what about Coryn?"

Mel's jaw tightened. "After I left the Chapter house, I came back here. Coryn wasn't home, but I figured he was just out at the market. But... soon it started to get late, and I got worried. Coryn is old, but he's never late."

She took a deep breath, looking back down at her cup. "So I went looking for him..."

***

"A what Miss?"

Mel suppressed a sigh as she repeated herself to the old shopkeeper. Have you seen a pelt?"

"Oh I see lotsa pelts round here." The shopkeeper replied, straightening the pair of almost comically thick spectacles that sat upon his nose.

"Yes, but this one is a feline, very old, brown and black fur with white stripes. He would have had a wicker shopping basket."

"Eh, don't let no pelts in here 'less they got their masters with 'em," the man replied, shaking his head. "Sorry bout that miss."

"It's... fine, thank you."

Mel sighed as she turned and left the shop. The sun was hanging low in the horizon and the market square was beginning to empty. Only a few stalls remained open, and Mel had already checked all of them. Coryn seemed to have simply vanished.

'Could he have run away?' Mel shook her head quickly. 'No... no chance. He must be around somewhere...'

But as the market continued to empty, Mel's search became more panicked. Merchant after merchant shook their heads as Mel inquired.

"Nope, ain't seen a feline fer hours."

"Ain't seen him today, sorry miss."

"Old Feline? Sorry, don't ring a bell. But iffin yer lookin for fresh slaves, I have this strong canine specimen over here. Good stock, strong muscles, fit fer whatever work yeh might imagine."

Mr. Cale Roesetti was the last shopkeeper still working when Mel reached his stall at the end of the market.

"Apologies miss Hathaway, not seen Coryn since earlier this afternoon, few hours back."

Mel's eyes widened. "S-so he was here?"

"Oh yeah. Bought a couple of fish and taters. He said something about making a fish pie. Polite ol' pelt as always."

"Was he alright? Did he say anything strange?"

"Nah, not at all. Bought his things and then went and sat on the wall over yonder."

As Mel turned to leave, Mr. Rosettie called out. "Y-you know... there was... one rather strange thing."

Mel spun around. "Yes?"

"Well... an I'm not 'ere trying to get anyone in any sorta trouble you know..."

"Right, yes, I understand." Mel nodded, desperately trying to coax an answer out of the man.

"Well... couple seasons back I started selling these peppermint sweet sticks, fer the children you know. An yer pelt... well he... bought a few. Figured they were fer you, till he.... started in on one himself."

Mel blinked in surprise. "That.... that's it?"

"Well it was strange, yeh know, a pelt with the money to afford something like that. Figured he might have been... being a little generous with yer money, you know."

Immediately Mel's tone darkened. "And you reported him?"

"Well no, not my business you know... but a couple lads from the order asked me about it."

"And?"

"Well I told them of course. They said it was curious, but no big deal. Little later though I looked up and he was gone, figured he went home."

Without another word, Mel sprinted towards the low wall that Mr. Rosetti had indicated. As she drew closer, she heard squabbling from the other side of the wall. Peering over, she caught sight of three children, street urchins from the look of it, arguing over the remains of a peppermint stick. Between them, crushed and broken, was Coryn's shopping basket.

Before the urchins could react, Mel reached out and snatched the peppermint from their hands.

"Wha-hey! Give it back!" The oldest of the children protested, leaping to his feet.

"The pelt that these belonged to, what happened to him?" Mel shook the peppermint in front of the child's nose.

"What'll you give us if we tell you?"

The peppermint crackled as Mel's grip tightened. "I'll let you walk away with your bones intact. Tell me, now!"

"Some people took 'im away," one of the younger children spoke up. "They took a buncha pelts from round 'ere."

"What people?!"

Before the child could say anything else, the older boy smacked her on the back of her head.

"Ain't tellin' you no more 'less you pay us." the older boy growled, pushing the other children behind him.

"Pay you? Do you not know who I am?"

"Can't say we do ma'am. We got goods, you want 'em, so you pay. Fair's fair!"

Pulling a handful of coins from her pocket, Mel pressed them into the boy's hand. "Here, now tell me!"

The boy stared down at the money in his hands, his eyse wide. "They was Order folks." he breathed as if in a trance. "They been takin pelts from here fer their buildings."

Mel's eyes widened. "No... no no no!"

***

"They'd taken him to help them build that bloody gallows." Mel snarled, her hands shaking with rage as she stared down at her cup. "According to that bastard foreman... he was 'lollygagging in the market' so they picked him up to give him a job. By the time I got there... they'd beaten him almost half to death for dropping a paintbrush."

"Lord..." Allec shook his head. "Ms. Hathaway... that's awful."

Mel's eyes narrowed as tears began to well up in them. "It's all my fault."

"It... it really isn't"

"If I hadn't told him to buy something for himself... If that fucker Mr. Rosetti had kept his mouth shut... If I had kept him home and safe..." A single tear ran down Mel's cheek and dropped into her cup, rippling the coffee within. "I'll have them for this, if it's the last thing I do."

"Ma'am..."

"I watched them torture a child for no reason, a child I helped them capture, and then they fucking beat my... my friend, half to death because of me. I'm going to burn them to fucking ash for this!"

Allec cleared his throat. "Th-that is dangerous talk Miss Hathaway."

Fighting back the urge to bark back, Mel took a calming breath. "Yes... yes you're right of course... My apologies.

"No apology necessary miss. I just don't wanna see yeh gettin' into any trouble."

"Yes... I understand. Thank you."

"That... having been said... perhaps there is a way that one could... solve multiple problems at once, what with making the Order pay."

Mel looked up sharply as Allec shrugged. "Ever since Duke took over, he's been a right bastard. Scaring folks, riling up every thug from here to Bengard, killing pelts fer no reason. Then of course there was hanging ol' Ermit and displaying him down at the docks, pretending he was some Northern spy. Was never a friend of the man myself, but it seems to me iffin they're willing to kill a man over nonsense like that, then protectin' the people don't seem like it's their main concern."

"Agreed."

"Well... what if there was a way to solve a buncha these problems at once..."

Setting aside her cup, Mel leaned across the table. "I'm listening."

***

END OF CHAPTER 27