Vulpine Summer

Fox woke with a start and found himself in a bed he didn’t recognise. For a moment he didn’t remember a lot. His head hurt and everything was scraping against his ears; then he remembered. He was at Billy’s for the first time in years and the pair had drunk themselves under the table as they reminisced and caught up. He didn’t really remember getting into bed but here he was, splashed by dawn-light, beneath the thin blankets.

He felt movement and rubbed his eyes, turning to see Dupont sleeping beside him. He stiffened. He definitely had to have been incredibly drunk to climb into bed with her. Even as a vixen, he refused to be close to her when she was going to wake up naked. Didn’t want to risk her shouting at him

Even so, he didn’t move instantly. He found himself watching her instead. The blanket covered her naked body but still revealed the curves, length of her legs and her shape. It made her look fragile and intently reminded him she was female, something he sometimes forgot. Her face was facing him, peaceful and relaxed. She was always so wound up awake; her brow furrowed, her mouth frowning. She always looked better asleep with her lashes rested against her pale skin and her pink mouth slightly parted. That and she didn’t remind him of her annoying personality and snootiness.
Fox sighed sharply suddenly. Yes, she was pretty and her foreign features made her slightly exotic looking but he had to remember not to try anything. A potential murderess wasn’t someone he could dabble with; his own blackmailer even less.

Feeling a little annoyed that the woman who was dragging him through hell had to be the type he was interested in and he couldn’t stop at the local whore-houses, Fox rose from the bed and froze. His face twisted in pain while his head swam and his stomach churned like it was about the chuck up everything he had consumed last night.

‘Get on form.’ He thought sharply.

He couldn’t stay put for long. That Witch-Trapper was coming so he had to get out, assess the town, find Warbler and figure out where to go next, all in the space of a few hours or he was going to die some horrible death by magic. He sighed heavily when he glanced at Dupont sleeping peacefully in the bed. He hated magic so much. It was either frightening or annoyingly troublesome.

Fox made his way out of the room and into the living area. Billy had been up; signs of food and an empty cup was left strewn on the beer bottle cluttered table. His grandmother was asleep, conked out in the chair she never really left. The TV was on, babbling away and ready to occupy her old woman’s poor rotten mind.

Fox glanced about, looking for Billy. If he was out, he wouldn’t be long. Apparently he never left the apartment for long, forever attached to his grandmother, cleaning, feeding and caring for her until she finally died. It’s why, Fox found out, Billy never made any progress in the Fingers. He held himself back to do small jobs so he could take care of her, despite needing the money. A catch twenty-two.

Fox didn’t know whether Billy had only just gone out however and he couldn’t afford to hang about. Roaming about the messy apartment, he finally found some paper and a pen. He scrawled down one note for Billy and then another for Dupont, explaining to Billy he was visiting Warbler and to Dupont to not leave this apartment on pain of death. He scribbled out the last part after some thought. While his gut told him Dupont wasn’t much of a threat, he still hadn’t proved he was right.

Feeling happy Dupont wasn’t going to vanish when she woke up, Fox left. Outside the collapsing apartment building, the air could’ve been clean and fresh if it wasn’t for the smog that clung to it. The factories that belched out smoke stood not far from here with their chimneys up in arms, puffing away. Fox knew that rest of the town wasn’t going to be any better. Really only workers or the poor lived here. Everyone else enjoyed the vaguely cleaner air in the city a few miles away.

Fox roamed through town, passing by residential blocks and small clusters of shops, trying to hurry but also take his time. He needed to observe and spy out threats and not run into them as he went across town to Warbler’s. So far he spotted three White Wizard’s milling about; one outside a pub and two more in the small spaces of green with swings in that could barely be called parks. He expected more activity here as a large college and extension of the Ivory Tower stood proudly in the richest part of Havern.

Fox scuttled through town, moving through the hordes of grubby workers and hurrying over roads alive with battered vans and loaded trucks. The people he passed were dead-panned, exhausted and miserable, all hard worked and barely paid. Children played amongst rubbish and with old worn toys and the homeless here were in greater numbers than in his home district in Lakeside. He forgot how awful it was here. No wonder Billy spoke so forlornly last night about being stuck and unable to go anywhere. He decided to have a chat with the Doe about moving him. It was the least he could do for his friend in need.

Eventually he found what he believed was the main street. Shops, if he could call them that, lined either side, selling cheap food, second hand furniture and the lowest quality goods possible for unaffordable prices. It was here Warbler’s practice stood, somewhere amongst the people and run-down shops.

And, as Fox turned to make sure he wasn’t being follow, it was here Sodden turned up again.

Fox froze amongst the crowd, ignoring how he was pushed and jostled by irritated civilians. Sodden at the corner of the road behind him, his blind eyes covered by his glasses and his collar turned up. He didn’t move; just remained perfectly still.

He’s here, Fox thought numbly. How long had the witch-trapper been following him?

Quite suddenly, Sodden’s head snapped up. He stared directly at Fox.

Fox’s heart jumped to his mouth and he dove across the road. Sodden moved slowly, his head tilting eerily as he followed, no doubt sniffing out the scent of Absolon on him and figuring out Fox’s movements. Fox gazed ahead, trying not to make his movements too desperate to alert anyone. He kept his head down as his eyes flickered over the shop signs. Bakers, cobblers, antique, grocery; The Songbird Practice.

Fox sped up and he didn’t check to see if Sodden did too and dove inside. The bell tinkled and the door slammed behind him and Fox found himself in the waiting area of Warbler’s practice. It was filled with people and every chair was taken by the sick, elderly and pregnant. It was quiet and its silence only popped by the odd cough and the receptionist calling for the next patient.

Feeling frayed, Fox strode up to the spindly old receptionist with deep set wrinkles that sagged off her bony face. Here she had a phone to hand, many files and papers and oddly a bowl of burning incense that mingled with the sweat and smoke that clung to the hot air. She was currently talking to a man with a very unhealthy hacking cough. Fox didn’t wait for her to finish and spoke loudly, rudely interrupting the pair.

‘I need to see Warbler.’ Fox said meaningfully.

The woman turned her nose up haughtily, obviously used to being interrupted and spoken down on. She clearly wasn’t going to have it.

‘Wait your turn. I have a cue here of ten people.’ She snapped.

Fox turned to glance at the grubby windows. Sodden still hadn’t arrived but it was only a matter of seconds. He just needed Warbler. That old doctor was more powerful than the Doe when it came to magic. He could keep Sodden at bay.

‘Warbler, woman.’ Fox hissed.

That just seemed to make her worse and her mouth became a very thin pale line. ‘I won’t be spoken to like that now wait your turn.’

Fox sighed irritably. The receptionist were always Warbler’s trustees, people who could take information and packages down to him from the Finger’s members that swung by. Why wasn’t she sending him through?

He drummed his fingers on the desk, his eyes flickering between the old hag and the windows with increasing anger. Then his stomach dropped as Sodden came into view, head tilting, and grasped the handle of the practice. Fox’s breath hissed out between his teeth and he turned sharply to the receptionist again as she finished with the spluttering man.

‘Warbler. Now.’

The hag just raised a single finger and didn’t even give Fox a glance. ‘Nine more. Wait.’

Fox wanted to throttle the snobby old woman. She was going to kill him by being so stubborn.

But Fox began to calm when Sodden demeanour changed the moment the door was open. He hesitated when he entered the practice and no longer looked so confident. He looked lost.

Fox stepped aside, backing up until his back was against the wall, as Sodden came to the front desk.

‘Excuse me.’ He said politely.

The old woman, annoyed that so many people kept interrupting her job, held up a hand. ‘I have ten people to address. Wait your turn.’ She snarled.

Sodden looked taken aback but didn’t argue. He stood aside and waited obediently, his blind eyes staring at the wall right where Fox stood. Fox stared back, incredibly confused. Sodden clearly wasn’t picking up Absolon’s scent anymore. But why? Sodden had been following him up the road and had trailed after him into the Songbird Practice. Now it was as if Fox had become invisible to him. He didn’t get it.

All of a sudden, the large door leading into the hall of doctors’ rooms was wrenched open. Out came a portly man with a thick mane of black hair lining his chin and trailing down his back. With laughing eyes, he stared at Fox, smiled, then observed Sodden with a frown. This man was Warbler and Fox sighed in relief. He felt safe again.

Warbler came forward and addressed Sodden.

‘You are not a usual patient. Are you looking to sign up?’ Warbler said as gazed at Sodden.

Sodden smiled thinly. ‘I am not here as a patient.’

‘Then what brings you into my humble clinic?’

‘I was following someone. A friend. They came in here but I seem to have lost them.’

‘Can you tell me what they look like?’

Sodden smile remained as he briefly touched his glasses, showing his dead eyes. ‘No.’

‘Do you know if they are a regular here?’

‘They are not.’

‘Then I am afraid I can’t help you. Every face here is someone I know. They have all been coming here for years.’ Warbler smiled brightly as Fox watched curiously. ‘Do you need help? I can take you to the local police station. Maybe they can reunite you with your friend.’

‘No.’ Sodden said as he moved away. ‘I will wait outside. My friend will find me if I don’t move.’

Then Sodden left the practice and stood outside as promised, leaning against the window as still as a tree. Warbler grunted then turned to Fox.

‘Come.’ He said simply and guided Fox into the back of the clinic. Fox didn’t follow until he had at least caught the old hag’s eyes and gave her a rude gesture. She scowled and turned red but he was gone before she could bluster in outrage.

Fox didn’t breathe a word as he followed Warbler down a hall of doors, each filled with a nurse or doctor. Warbler came to the last door of the hall, one made of thick wood and had three different locks on it. He took his time unlocking each one, languidly inserting and turning each key, then pushed open the heavy door to revel a dark set of steps. A cold musty draft wafted into Fox’s face, reminding how warm today was.

Only once the lights had been switch on and both Fox and Warbler were making their way down the stone steps did Fox speak.

‘What was with the hag upstairs?’

‘Mrs Foyer? Oh she just gets a little cagey. It’s why I have here there. She is very good at keeping trouble from brewing and giving me time to react to a threat.’

Fox grunted. The woman nearly got Fox killed.

‘So what brings you into my neck of the woods then? And with a witch-trapper trailing after you.’

‘You know he was a witch-trapper?’

Warbler barked a laugh. ‘Of course! No normal man walks about without a stick when he’s blind and no normal man sends my magic alarms into a frenzy!’ He said as he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

Suddenly it was a little warmer and the room was carpeted red and painted white. Fox had been down here a few times before and little had changed in Warbler’s set up. The walls were still covered in books and files, the old telegraph sitting neatly in the corner and his desk still spotless.

‘Didn’t think you’d know so quick.’

‘Fox, I was raised within the Ivory Tower. Taught to be a Wizard. I know the signs. I am far from stupid.’

Fox wanted to point out he wasn’t calling Warbler stupid but Warbler was already changing the subject.

‘So, answer my question. What brings you to me?’

‘A job.’

‘What job?’

‘A grab and deliver. Expensive. Doe wanted me to do it.’

Warbler’s face wrinkled into a grin. ‘So you’re getting the name then. Soon Fox won’t just be a nickname but a title.’

Fox shrugged, not wanting to think how badly he had screwed up so far. Being spotted in his victim’s house and then having his task taken and used in black-mail wasn’t exactly title worthy.

‘Need to talk to Elenore. She’s helpin’ me get it over the border.’

Warbler hummed. ‘So why the trapper?’

Fox hesitated. ‘It’s a magic thing.’

‘I don’t sense anything on you.’

Fox scowled. ‘Hidden it, ain’t I? Not stupid.’

Warbler shrugged. Fox wasn’t sure whether Warbler believed the lie or just didn’t really care.

‘Why couldn’t he see me anyway?’

‘Incense. The stink upstairs muddles with their senses and inflicts blindness to magic. I have an awful lot of magic down here and not a lot of it legal. Being a Tower Wizard illegally teaching magic won’t go down well with my peers.’ He smiled at Fox’s bewilderment. ‘Well the telegraph is there. Try it out.’

Fox thanked him and shuffled over, plonking himself on the squishy chair. Despite being in one of the poorest towns Fox knew of, Warbler’s den was very cushy. Far cushier than the Doe’s. Then again, the Doe liked practicality. Warbler apparently didn’t.

As Fox pulled off his head, letting his red hair puff up freely, dread suddenly hit him square in the chest. Dupont! She was currently blissfully asleep, unaware that Sodden was already in town, sniffing them out. He could be on her trail right now.

Just as Warbler moved to the stairs, Fox whirled on his seat and shouted.

‘I need to get a message sent out!’ Fox said. He didn’t know why he felt quite so panicked but he couldn’t help it.

Warbler paused. ‘Who for?’

Fox hesitated. ‘Du-Vic and Billy.’

‘Du-Vic?’

Fox scowled at the mocking tone. ‘Just send a message to Billy. Tell ‘em about the trapper.’

‘So they’re looking after this magical thing for you.’ Fox nodded. Warbler accepted it. ‘I’ll warn them and send them some spare sticks of incense. It will help you keep that item smothered. I will also keep a close eye on that trapper myself. I don’t like Witches in my town, especially ones after my workers.’

Fox relaxed and thanked Warbler who moved upstairs in heavy steps. He slumped in the chair and touched his chest lightly, listening to how quickly his heart was beating. He didn’t know why but the thought of Dupont not being aware of the danger made him panic. He told himself it was because of the Eye. Lose Dupont and Absolon and he loses his name.

He shook his head sharply, yanked on the headphones and began to send out a message to Elenore. He hoped she knew something, anything, to get them out of here. Even with Warbler the Wizard and Fence watching his back, this town was too dangerous to stay in.