Weegee leaned out and rubbed her nose against his to get his attention. “We can’t just let them die like that, Mudge.”
“We didn’t make the choice on ’ow they’re goin’ to die, luv. They did that themselves. Wot about me and you then, eh?” He stood straight and kissed her, leaning over the gunwale to do so. Then he ran a finger over her whiskers. “I never met no one like you, lass. Never expected to. Never planned on settlin’ down because I never thought I’d ’ave a reason to. Now I’ve got me a reason an’ I ain’t blowin’ it because some nitwit of a ’uman from another world ’asn’t got the sense to know when to mind ’is own business. Jon-Tom’s been pullin’ idiotic stunts like this ever since I’ve known ’im, which is as long as ’e’s been in our world. I knew ’e’d pull one too many one day and that would be the end o’ an interestin’ friendship. Today’s that day. ’E’s made the choice. There’s no one else at risk in this. This time the fate o’ the world don’t ’ang in the balance. ’Tis just Jon-Tom, an’ fate’s decided ’is end ’as come.”
“Someone once told me that fate never decided anything.”
“Wot fool told you that?”
She leaned close. “You did, Mudge.”
He pulled away from her but he couldn’t get away from her eyes. “Damn all females to ’ell anyway. You ’ear me, Weegee? I say damn you!”
“I heard you.” She slipped over the side into the water. “We’ll have a nice long mutual cursing session later. Right now we’re wasting time.”
Together they swam for the village, easily outracing the startled fish that crossed their path.
Jon-Tom’s halting attempts at equine psychoanalysis were going nowhere fast when he was interrupted by the sound of a gate opening at the far end of the corral. At first he thought the cooks had come for them, but the opening was only to permit the injection of some new ingredients to the stew. These ingredients were unceremoniously tossed inside. The gate was slammed behind them.
He didn’t wave. “Hello, Mudge. Hi, Weegee.”
Teyva pawed the earth. “More of your friends? You certainly do have a number of foolish acquaintances, man.”
Mudge was brushing himself off. The expression on his face ought to have been sharp enough to cut through the pen all by itself. “You don’t know the ’alf o’ it, four-legs. I should’ve brought me longbow but the water would’ve ruined it. Should’ve brought it anyway an’ taken the chance. Too bleedin’ late now.” He ran back to the gate and bestowed some choice epithets on his captors.
“Very smart this bunch.” Cautious was cleaning his tail. “You got to be real quick or they drop down on you from trees.”
“I’ll keep that useful advice right where it’ll do the most good,” the otter growled. “Only trouble is ’tis about three minutes shy o’ bein’ of any use. I didn’t think to keep an eye on the trees. Didn’t see no monkeys livin’ ’ere.” He stared straight at Jon-Tom. “’Course they got one now.”
Weegee walked slowly up to Jon-Tom. “This is my fault. Mudge didn’t want to come. He was probably right, but I insisted.”
“Wot do you mean I didn’t want to come? Are you sayin’ I ’ad thoughts o’ abandonin’ me good mate ’ere to the cookpot without at least tryin’ to save ’im?”
Weegee turned on her paramour, stared at him for a moment, then looked quietly back up at Jon-Tom. “Everything you told me about him is true.” She strolled over to whisper something to Cautious. Meanwhile Jon-Tom, vaguely aware that he might be missing something, walked over to rejoin his brave friend.
“I appreciate the effort, Mudge. I’m just sorry you didn’t succeed.” He nodded toward the gate. “You bought us some time, anyway. They’re going to have to enlarge the firepit again.” Through the fence posts they could observe the delighted villagers doing just that.
“Why don’t they just cook us one at a time?” the otter muttered.
“That’s what I do not understand,” said Teyva.
“Maybe it’s some spiritual thing. The bigger the banquet and the more prey they cook at once the better it bodes for future hunting, or something.”
Mudge cocked an eye at him. His tone was bitter, resigned. “I knew if I just stuck with you long enough, mate, I’d wind up dead before me time. You know, at the end o’ every one o’ our previous little jaunts you’ve always clapped me on the shoulder an’ said ‘Well done, Mudge. Well done.’” He jerked a thumb toward the gate and the firepit beyond. “I’ll be well done for sure this time.” He turned his gaze on the flying horse.
“Wot ’ave you found out about the cause o’ all this distress? You were right about ’im bein’ big enough to carry all o’ us. So why don’t we just climb aboard and ’ave ’im fly us away?”
“He’s afraid of heights,” said Cautious.
Mudge’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the raccoon. “Wot’s that? I didn’t ’ear that.”
The disgruntled Cautious raised his voice. “I said he afraid of heights.”
Mudge was silent for a long moment as he digested this. Then he walked slowly up to the huge stallion until his black nose was barely inches from Teyva’s muzzle.
“Mudge, don’t…” Jon-Tom began, but he could no more keep the otter quiet than he could have halted a flood of biblical proportions.
“So you’re afraid o’ heights? With wings that’d shame a ’undred eagles an’ muscles like that?” He tried to kick the stallion in the chest but his short legs wouldn’t reach high enough. “You four-legged coward. You winged sissy. You namby-pampy cud-chewin’ pitiful excuse for a member o’ the equine persuasion! Wot use are you?” The otter continued to heap insults on the flying horse until Teyva buried his head beneath one of his wings. Only then did the thoroughly disgusted Mudge turn away.
“Thanks, Mudge.” Jon-Tom was shaking his head. “You really helped the situation, you know that? Here I’m trying to convince Teyva he can fly by building up his self-esteem a little and you—”
“Do wot, mate? Tell the truth? ’Tis a tough life and I ain’t one to coddle another bloke, especially when ’tis my life that’s at stake.” He sat down and rested his head in his paws. “I only ’ope that when they cook me they use plenty o’ sage. I always liked sage.”
Jon-Tom turned his attention back to the stallion and tried to peer beneath the concealing wing. “Come out of there, Teyva. That’s not helping anything.”
“Yes it is. I feel bad enough already and I’m going to die and you’re all going to die because you tried to help me. I don’t need any more shame.”
Weegee was standing next to the gate. “Time for last minute expressions of regret or whatever. They’re coming for us.”
Moving in solemn double file, a long line of villagers was approaching the corral. A dull chant rose from the rest, who were assembled around the firepit.
“Please come out of there,” Jon-Tom pleaded with the multicolored wing. A reluctant Teyva peeped out from behind the feathers.
“It is no use, man. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, but you’re wasting your time. It has been tried before,”
“Maybe we can fake them. Pretend like you’re going to fly away. Shock them into hesitating for a while at least.” He put one hand on the black leather strap that ran down the stallion’s spine. “Do you mind?”
“Better you should be composing yourself for the last moment, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead.”
Jon-Tom put a foot into the lower leather straps and swung himself up on the broad, muscular back. From his new height he had a different perspective on Teyva’s size and power. The stallion would have the wingspan of a small airplane.
