Up, Down, All Around

Grisha’s alchemy shop was bustling with activity, and not just from the various beasts that walked in to buy ingredients or seek aid from the blind hyena shaman and her apprentices: An odd group had currently taken up residence in the backrooms of her shop. 

The most noticeable one - a large reptiloid with dark scales, long horns and piercing yellow eyes - sat upon a cushion too small for his frame. His arms were folded as he spoke to a female meerkat who was transcribing everything he said to her leatherbound notebook.

“So you and this ‘Ylla’ were at the fields as this battle started, and that’s when you were enslaved by this Margot the Lynx,” the meerkat said trying to recap his story. 

“Correct, Amber,” the reptiloid replied.

Amber continued to work her quill. “And Margot is a servant of The Witch Queen of Vulane. Selthia, who effectively owned you and had you compete in the gladiator fights? Is that right, Draknor?” 

“Again, correct,” Draknor rumbled his large powerful tail thumping against the floor.

“But you busted out during a fight, and made your escape where you eventually met our dear Skreet Snickertooth, rat detective.” 

Amber said the last part in a sugary sweet tone of voice, as if to rib the rat investigator, even though he was absent. From the shadowy corner a ferret clad in leathers smirked at Amber’s tone. 

“Yes,” Draknor said, wearily. “And after we deal with our mutual adversary Margot, Skreet will help me find Ylla.”  

“I’m sure he will.” Amber replied as she finished jotting down her notes. “Then you met Farah over there,”

“The amazing Farah,” the ferret corrected. “The best thief in the world.”

Amber ignored her and continued her interview. “And then you met me after recovering your sword from those experiments being conducted upon it.” 

Draknor merely grunted in reply. 

“Quite the story already, and its still ongoing as we speak!” the meerkat beamed. 

Draknor regarded her with his piercing eyes. “It’s my turn to ask you a question.”

Intrigued, the meerkat’s ears shifted forward. “Oh, do go ahead!”

“Why do you talk to Snickertooth the way you do? Why do you speak to him the way you do. He is a rat of courage and integrity, and a keen mind.” 

Farah couldn’t help but make a snide comment. “Aw, that’s sweet. Look at you Drak, sticking up from ol’ Skreet.” 

Draknor snorted in response. 

 “Well, I wrote a few books about him and a few of his cases. Books that made him famous. He didn’t appreciate them, or me so I rib him from time to time.”

“Rib him?” Draknor asked.

“Yes, you know,” Amber said. “Poke him a little. Make sure he’s still alive.”

“I don’t understand.” Draknor grunted. “Is this a mammal thing?”

Amber ran her quill along her muzzle, trying to think of how best to explain it.

Farah broke into the conversation then, “Speaking of Skreet. Is no one going to say it?” 

“Say what?” Amber and Draknor both asked. 

“We should keep an eye on Skreet. He just left. By himself. After we’ve made a lot of enemies here.”

“I shall go,” Draknor rumbled.

Farah shook her head, “Nah, you better stay here,big guy.” 

Draknor growled. 

“She’s got a point,” Amber said, surprisingly siding with the ferret. “You do tend to draw attention to yourself.” 

Farah smirked. “Tell you what: You stay here, and then if we don’t come back soon you can go after us.” 

Draknor stood, his horns scraping the ceiling, “And how would I find you? This city is an ever-shifting maze.”

Farah thought about it for a second. “If you see or hear a phalanx of those silvermasks, follow them - from a distance, of course.”

“Why?” Draknor asked.

“Well, the way I figure it is that they follow paths around the city that they know because they’re...” Farah gesticulated, as if conjuring the correct word out of the air. 

“...They’re conditioned to,” Amber the wordsmith added. Farah acknowledged the help. “And eventually you’ll run into the House of the Moon, where we’ll try to rendezvous. Or, eventually, you’ll make a tour of the city and find us...” 

Farah spoke then: “...or the people who kidnapped us.”

“That doesn’t seem efficient at all,” Draknor grumbled.  

“It’s what we thieves use to navigate the city... although figuring out which platoon is which is quite the task. But it’s the best we’ve got. Besides, we'll be back soon. At least I probably will,” Farah said, giving Amber a side-eye glance. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amber asked. 

“Honey, you’ve got damsel in need of rescue written all over you.” 

“I resent that, you tart!” Amber hissed. 

Draknor thumped his sword against the floor, “Stop arguing and trail Skreet already! He’s probably long gone by now! GO!” 

The two hurried out of Grisha’s alchemy shop and into the fine rain of the ever-rainy city. The two quickly merged into the evening crowd of middle and upper class creatures and their families touring the marketplace before seeing Skreet. He had gone a ways down the street, but thankfully he hadn’t gone too far. Neither Farah nor Amber drew too close, they didn’t call out to him either. Best he didn’t know he was being followed. 

“I wonder how long it will take him to figure out we’re tailing him?” Farah asked. 

“Good question, he’s an experienced investigator,” Amber added. 

Just then something unexpected happened: a beautiful white mink was suddenly at Skreet’s side. 

“Who’s that?” Amber asked. 

“I don’t know, but I’m envious of her dress,” Farah replied. 

The two eavesdropped on the conversation, wondering just who this mink was. Friend or foe?  

“Rask? Rask, is that you? Oh, Rask! How wonderful to see you again!” 

‘Rask’? Skreet replied before he seemed to run with the name.  

“Spinrave isn’t it? Well, fancy meeting you here.” 

Spinrave smiled as she took his arm, “Fancy indeed. You’ve been making quite a name for yourself. I was hoping we would meet again. Come with me.” 

“A ‘name for myself’?”

“Yes, you and your little... and large... friends. Some very... interesting creatures wish to speak to you, but I think it best if you come out of the rain... If you trust me, that is.”

To Amber’s dismay she saw Skreet walking with Spinrave. 

“What’s he doing? Why is he going with her?” Amber questioned. 

Farah’s tail twitched, “She’s charming him, I can smell those intoxicating fumes from here. Smell that? That oh-too-sweet perfume smell?” 

“We should save him,” Amber said. 

“Or we can follow and see where she takes him. Come on. How’s that investigative instinct?” 

Amber scowled, “Fine you’ve got a point. It would make for a better story anyway. I think I’ll call it something like, ‘Seduced in the Rain.’”

“Might want to workshop that title, sounds more like those romance novels… Which I definitely don’t read, or keep under my pillow.”

Amber twitched an ear at that.

Skreet and ‘Spinrave’ walked directly into one of the thousands of taverns in the damp, dark city and into an interior that was even darker. Farah and Amber made their way through the throngs of creatures who were making their way to the Entertainment District and all of Selthia’s delights and dipped into the tavern. It was multiple stories, so perhaps they had rooms for the weary traveler.

The inside was raucous. Sea rats and weasels just off from working in the Docks district - which had a curfew - smoked pipes and drank ale while cats and various vermin massaged aching muscles - for a price. They got in just in time to see Skreet’s and the mink’s tails walking up the red-carpeted staircase to the upper levels.

“Let’s go.” Farah nodded to Amber.

They didn’t make it too far up the stairs till they paused. A large, female panther from the Southern continent, her burly arms crossed as she watched for any but paying customers from entering the second and third floors. 

“Well that complicates things,” Amber muttered. “Maybe we can bribe her?” 

“Don’t worry I’ve got a plan in my devious mind.” Farah said, rubbing her paws together. 

Skreet found himself smiling like an idiot as Spinrave continued to talk to him, her voice like a melody as she led him through the plush third floor of the inn-tavern. Part of the rat’s mind was still rational, though, wondering why he was going along with her so much... but the other part seemed to have hijacked his muscles and speech.

Spinrave had long solved the mystery of her friend - through wanted posters, rumors, and Margot. He was not ‘Rask,’ he was Skreet Snickertooth, and he and his friends were moving through Vulane like a whirlwind. It was no longer amusing.

“Corrupt him,” Selthia had said in her office, enchanted with the false night sky on her ceiling. “And if you really like him, keep him as a pet.”

Spinrave was fine with that arrangement. She served Margot, and by extension Selthia. If her mistress ordered it, it was as good as done. He would make a wonderful pet.

“I ordered some wine for the room,” Spinrave said softly.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Skreet muttered. 

“You can drink, and drink, and never have a hangover. We shall enjoy the time we have together… for a long time to come, my handsome rat,” Spinrave said, smiling shyly and holding his paw as she unlocked a large wooden door. 

But as they prepared to step through a voice called out to Spinrave as a female cat ran with a note in her paw.

“Spinrave! Spinrave… you’ve been called out.” 

Spinrave flattened her ears, “I don’t have time for that right now. Tell this challenger to tottle off.” 

The cat shook her head. “You know the ancient rites of the Entertainers’ Guild - This is a public challenge. With all the right words.” 

Spinrave dragged a paw across her muzzle, “Ugh, fine. My dear Rask, I must attend to... some upstart downstairs. Have some wine and wait for my return. Then the fun will really begin.” she winked flirtatiously. 

She practically shoved Skreet through the door before locking it and marching downstairs, the dress she wore would serve its purpose for a dance. Might even get her blood pumping for some more fun later. 

In the well-appointed room Skreet shook his head, his mind still slightly addled as he sat on the plush bed noticing the glass of wine on the nightstand. His mouth watered: something about that glass was very inviting. As if it were singing a song for his ears alone. 

Downstairs in the common room around the stage the crowd was already worked up in a frenzy, they let out an uproar as Spinrave made her appearance. 

“Who challenges me?” She demanded. 

“I do sweetie,” Farah stood on the stage arms folded across her chest. 

The room of half-drunk, licentious laborers nearly exploded.

“Damn I love this town,” a searat could be heard saying.

“I love and hate it,” someone else retorted.

She had had time since issuing the challenge to change into one of the many performer costumes, and had opted for a belly dancer ensemble. A shimmering skirt that showed a fair bit of leg, and a sparkly croptop. Bracelets adorned her arms, and anklets on her feet. 

“Cute outfit.” Spinrave said coldly as she tossed her coat aside revealing her short dress. 

“Musicians!”  Spinrave ordered. 

Meanwhile Skreet was just about to raise the glass to his muzzle when the door suddenly flew open. A familiar meerkat covered in scratches stumbled in, her fur disheveled as she carried Farah’s prized lockpicking set. 

“Oh, no! Not you,” Skreet muttered as Amber crossed to him and shook him by the shoulders causing the glass to fall and shatter upon the floor. 

“Snap out of it fool!” Amber cried out, but the dopey expression would not leave the rat’s face. 

“I’m waiting for her. The enchanting Spinrave.” 

Amber scowled. “Fine, you leave me no choice.”  

Grabbing a candle nearby, the meerkat jammed the lit wick into his arm eliciting a cry of pain. The smell of burned hair filled the room. 

“Gaaaah!” Skreet stood up. “Amber, what in the hells?” 

“Got control of your faculties yet?” the meerkat asked. 

Skreet blinked. “Yeah... oh, Gods. I let myself end up here?” 

He could remember everything, as though he’d awoken from a pleasant dream. Part of him - a quiet, less hard-boiled part - wanted to stay in that dream. 

“Let’s get out of here, rat!” Amber declared. 

Skreet nodded as his paws went to his pair of fighting sticks under his coat.

“Yeah.” 

Back in the common area two musilide ladies were having a fierce duel. Not with swords or fists, but in dance. Farah shimmied her hips, arms above her head as the crowd roared, Spinrave in response was performing an impressive set of spins - her specialty.

“Not bad sweetie,” Farah commented. “Not good enough to win.” 

Spinrave smiled sweetly. “Worry about yourself, thief.” 

The mink bowed low, her rear towards the crowd. Another explosion of claps and whistles.

Farah was unperturbed, or at least made it seem so, for deep down she was alarmed. She had been recognized? But she was so cautious. She was too good! How did someone recognize her? She wasn’t going to let Spinrave know she got to her.

“Oh, and what do thieves do, besides be good dancers?” Farah asked as she leaned backwards towards the crowd in a display of flexibility, her abs were still rolling as she did so. “Steal things. Like your fans. Your stuff. …Your date.”    

Spinrave clenched her muzzle shut, her focus off. “Oh, you clever… this is a distraction.” 

Her rhythm stopped and the crowd booed. 

“It’s too late by now. Might as well share.” Farah grinned. 

“Well done! Well danced.” Spinrave shouted as she gave Farah a forced hug, her muzzle inches from Farah’s ear.

“Mistress Selthia, and Mistress Margot, asked me to corrupt your rat friend’s mind. Your group has drawn the ire of some important people.”

“You work for Margot. Tell me where to find her. She won’t be happy you failed.” Farah hissed.

Spinrave drew Farah closer. “Losing one of Selthia’s prized treasures put her on the outs. It’s a race for your large, reptiloid friend. Margot’s in the Fogs, sending agents across the city.”

The two broke the embrace giving each other an almost genuine bow, before they parted ways, the crowd still cheering. 

Farah caught Amber and Skreet descending the staircase. There was much to be done.