Vulpine Summer

The open-backed truck trundled down the lumpy road, making Esme bounce on her set of hay. She was clutching her knees, watching the golden world go by. The sounds of sheep and goats bleating away mingled with the song of birds and broken now and then by the roar of a car zooming by.

She was tired. Fox and Esme had spent the best part of two hours by the roadside, trying to thumb a lift with anyone going towards Clockton. The farmer has been kind enough to give them lift after several failed attempts and now the borders of the Everwood had grown thin and distant. It tugged at her heart to see and made her become a little frightened. The Everwood was thick and plentiful, spreading out for miles and miles around Lakeside and Tranquil, covering the low mountain here like moss. And back in the Everwood were her only powerful allies. The God of the Everwood and the Spirits that lived there. Out here, it was just herself, her faithful Spirits, a begrudging thief and the unknown. The Everwood failed to reach out any further. Its safety was gone and it made her feel small and vulnerable.

She glanced at Fox who lay sprawled out beside her to take her mind away from the dwindling Spirit forest. He appeared content with his hat pulled down over his eyes so he could doze in the afternoon sun. She scowled softly at him. She wanted to sleep to but she was terrified that one of the cars that trailed lazily after the truck was filled with Hunters or police and she'd be shot where she sat. So she remained wide awake, watching the farms and field roll by behind old waist high walls and the trying to make out the faces of the people shielded by the car's windows and the glaring.

The truck lurched as it rumbled over the narrow bridge, forcing Esme to steady herself as she was nearly thrown into Fox and grabbed the bag before it fell off onto the road. Absolon squeaked behind her in sleepy surprise.

'It's okay Absolon.' She said softly.

He settled back down and fell back to sleep. She sighed as the truck shook over the cobbled road, shaking with every inch it took, and pulled her into the clustered and tiny Clockton. The place wasn't too big nor was it very tall. Hundreds of old, bunched buildings, adorned with flowers and white window shutters, rose and fell with the groves of the valley. The truck would stop and start as children played in the street and shoppers and villages not having much of a care of the cars sluggishly trying to drive by. Esme watched the people as she was driven by, noting that people here were far less rich than in Lakeside but, so far, didn't live in squalor like Fox did either.

As the truck pulled into the centre of town where market stands where set up and shop stood with their doors flung open, letting in and out a stream of customers, Fox woke. A couple of cars were honking madly and dogs were barking. The noise finally got to him in his dreamworld.

'We there?' He asked as he sat up sharply.

Esme nodded as the driver pulled open the back window.

'Get out. As far as I need to take you lot.' The farmer bellowed from his seat.

Esme hurriedly nudged Absolon, pushing him into the air from his nest, and slipped off the truck. She wobbled a little when her boots hit the cobbled floor but swiftly woke up as she hurried to the pavement and out of the way of the car behind, who was honking furiously. Esme stood there waiting as Fox left the truck without an ounce of urgency she felt. He dragged the bag onto his back and vanished as he went to go tip the driver. As he languidly walked towards her, Absolon drifted down aimlessly from the air and the truck creaked into gear and drove off, allowing the traffic to finally start moving once again.

Esme gazed at her new surroundings. The market square smelled strongly of baked goods, sugar and raw meat. It was alive with as much activity a village of three hundred could muster and every face was a blur. She recognised no one here and nothing. It was new to her and it hammered further that she was in the unknown and far from Lakeside.

'This way.' Fox grumbled as he went back down the road the truck had brought them.

Esme at first followed before turning back to grab Absolon's tiny foot after he sleepily stayed put, and hurried after Fox. She stuck to the pavement as it curved downwards, pulling Absolon like a balloon after her. Fox was sure-footed, showing how familiar he was with Clockton. He guided Esme down narrow curving streets, barely wide enough to allow two cars through which often had them vying for priority. Each house was cramped and small, with their windows flung open, letting out the sounds of radios, chatter and warmth, and their garden lawns varying in levels of tidiness. Places that had youngsters were obvious by the children tearing about the streets and the toys strewn in the lawn and the wealthy changed in every street with the houses appearing in various states of repair.

Esme gazed about her, often having to run up to Fox as he tore on ahead and not really paying much attention to her. After living within the sprawling city of Lakeside, with its massive districts, apartment and office buildings and huge shopping malls, Clockton was a welcome change of pace. The people were slow, unhurried in their business and the streets roared rarely with a car trundling by. Despite her situation, Esme was beginning to enjoy her journey outside Lakeside. It was only when she peered up a road they passed and saw the flash of white, she paled and became frightened again. Of course Hunters would be here. Clockton wasn't that far out from Lakeside.

Fox suddenly stopped at the top of a sloping hill, causing her to nearly bump into him. At first she felt anxious that a Hunter was there but he was relaxed, staring up at sign.

'What is it?' She asked and peered up at what grabbed his attention.

It was a rickety old shop with its black iron sign swinging sadly. The grubby windows were filled with clocks of various types; watches, grandfathers, pendulums and wind-up. Oddly, despite the shabby appearance of the shop itself, the clocks were immaculate. They shone beautifully, painted , varnished and cleaned to perfection.

'In.' Fox said sharply as he pointed at the old door. 'And you stay in. I'll go out later to see how many Hunters are about. So far, I've seen three.'

Esme frowned but nodded her head obediently. 'I'll stay in.'

Fox grunted and pushed open the door, rattling the bell. Esme had to dart forward to grab the door when he failed to hold it open. She didn't know why she expected he did. Fox so far hadn't shown any basic manners.

Inside was dark and very loud. Clocks were on every shelf and wall and most were alive, ticking away their cogs, swinging their pendulums and blaring out their bells or cuckoos. It made Esme's hands flutter to her eyes. Absolon seemed to like it. It woke him up and he began to sway with a large wooden grandfather clock's pendulum.

Fox waved at her to follow as he made his way through the noisy cluttered shop. He made his way passed the counter and opened the door on the other side. Instantly Esme paused. Why was he going round the back? She then remembered he was a thief. Was he stealing?

Esme stared at him unhappily, glaring softly, while Fox grew impatient.

'Hurry up.' He hissed.

She grabbed Absolon from his merry dance and sullenly went forward. Once again, barely caught the door as he let it close shut on her. It irritated her. She slipped into the back room and, while she didn't feel comfortable invading someone's private space, she did like that it was much quieter and cooler in here.

Absolon whistled in Esme's arms as she hovered by the closed door. She glanced about the room, noting the tools and machinery and half built clocks. It was like a tiny factory.

Fox scrabbled up the tiny set of crooked steps leading to the rooms above. He didn't instruct her to follow so she stayed put, deciding instead to roam the little factory curiously. There was a cuckoo clock half built. It's skeleton was carefully held up on a small apparatus and its cogs and mechanisms were still being put inside, cautiously placed together. She tried to understand how the clock was put together but couldn't see where it would even start. The whole thing was so complicated.

'You like the clock then.' A wizened voice said behind her.

Esme jumped and took a step away from the clock. An old man stood before her, his clothes ragged and his white hair wild. He smiled widely with his eyes enlarged massively behind his thick glasses.

'Yes.' Esme said. 'I find mechanisms fascinating.'

The old man seemed to grow confused at her responses. His thick black eyebrows furrowed and he glanced over her, trying to see something. She blushed a little.

'You have a very soft voice, boy.' The old man said.

Esme clamped her mouth shut, suddenly remembering Fox's demands to never speak. While Elenore may have managed to change her eyes and hair, she could do nothing for her features and voice. She could get away with looking like a pretty boy until she spoke.

The old man didn't say anything more on the subject however. 'What brings you and your Sprite round the back of my shop then?' He asked as he set small box beside his clock-in-progress.

Esme, before she she'd fall down the hole of not wanting to speak but already spoken, was saved by Fox. He lumbered down the stairs and came to a stop at the lowest one.

'There you are Cuckoo.'

The old man Cuckoo grinned brightly. 'Ah, young Reynard.'

'Fox.' Fox said stubbornly.

'Yes. Fox.' Cuckoo said laughing. 'Is this young man with you?'

'Yeah. He's with me.'

'Got a pretty voice don't he.' Cuckoo's eyes glimmered beneath his large glasses as Fox shot Esme a glare at already breaking on his rules. Never speak. 'Take it you're on a job for Doe.' Cuckoo continued after Fox's silence.

'Yeah. Told me to deliver.'

'Is this young man…' Cuckoo paused then smiled at Esme apologetically. 'I don't know your name, boy.'

Esme flushed further and clutched Absolon. She had no cover name. Esme was clearly female and Dupont was foreign but both together would alert everyone to the murder she was running from.

'Vix.' Fox said.

'Vix.' Cuckoo echoed.

'Victor if you want but we call him Vix. Showin' him the ropes.'

Cuckoo stared at him, clearly not fully believing him, but went with it anyway. Esme was impressed by how calm Fox was in coming up with the name. It didn't sound like he'd pulled it off the top of his head. If she hadn't spoken earlier, she wondered if Cuckoo would've believed him.

'Now, what can I do for you two?' Cuckoo asked.

'Can we stay for a day? I need to do some scoutin'. You know the police is a hive right now. Don't want them sniffin' me out. Got a task to do.'

'The Eye. I know. The newspaper covered that well. Even said the thief was a member of the Fingers.' Cuckoo chuckled. 'Doubt Doe was happy. Got to be careful, Reynard.'

'Fox.'

'Yes. Fox.' He said, correcting himself. 'Well I guess I have room for you two. Mr Vix here can clean the shop a little while you scout.' He gestured to the broom in the corner. 'But be careful out. Police aren't the only ones roaming about. Got some of them Wizard Police out. Maybe four. They mostly hang out at the train station. Lookin' for that Dupont murderess.'

Esme paled as her heart fluttered in fright but Cuckoo didn't seem to notice.

'Thanks. I'll be back soon.' Fox said as he hurried to the door. He paused as he gripped the handle and scowled at Esme. 'Don't leave Vix. Stay put.'

Esme nodded and he left without another word. Cuckoo sighed and went to open his box. Suddenly Esme felt very vulnerable and alone. Should she continue speaking to Cuckoo? He knew she wasn't a mute so that card was gone. What should she do?

'You can do some sweepin'. Cuckoo said as he examined a clock spring carefully. 'Don't worry about the front. Fox doesn't want you seen.' He smiled at her warmly. 'What is your Sprite anyway? Must be gifted with magic to have him followin' you about merrily.'

Esme kept her mouth shut. She was torn. It was rude to ignore him but she didn't want to make her situation anymore obvious.

Cuckoo laughed softly. 'Dear, I know you're hidin'. I ain't stupid. So speak up. I won't pry into your business. Reynard is vouchin' for you afterall.'

Only because I'm blackmailing him, Esme thought softly but Cuckoo seemed trustworthy. Fox wouldn't leave her with him otherwise. 'His name's Absolon. He takes care of me.' She said and jiggled the Sprite. He laughed.

'Strange things aren't they. We get many out here and a few often watch me workin' on that windowsill.'

'They're curious.'

'Very.' He said with a smile and held out his hand.

Esme at first hesitated before she released Absolon into the air and took his hand and shook.

'Name is Timothy Quintell. Or Cuckoo. I'm the Fence here for the Fingers.'

Esme raised her brow. She was surprised he was so open with her about his position in the Fingers. Cuckoo seemed to notice.

'Well you're a member to ain't you? Fox showin' you the ropes?'

She flushed. 'Yes.'

'Need to remember your own story, Vix. Stop lookin' confused about things you should know about.' He said with a laugh. 'Now get to it. I'll continue workin' on this clock of mine.' He moved over to his work station. 'Or you can watch if you like.'

The choice was easy. Esme watched, eager to learn how he put together the tiny cogs and mechanisms so the clock would tick and its hands would move. Absolon did too, although he often got in the way. Despite the worry about the Hunters roaming about Clockton, Esme enjoyed her afternoon with Cuckoo the clockmaker and Fence. So far, her journey hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be.

She wondered when that would change.