Tales of Zoolok #2: Night Life

Story by snorgatch on SoFurry

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A few months after the events of Sea of Blood, two escaped vampires--a blue jay and a hedgehog--are trying to live quietly in the slums of Nexasho. But when an attempted romance goes horribly wrong, they find themselves pursued not only by the Heroes of Zoolok, but others who seek to use the pair for their own nefarious ends.


Night Life

a story of the world of Zoolok

"How'd it go, Sparks?" Tedija Saethen asked from behind the reception desk as Sparks emerged from the transmitter room at the PYBR radio broadcast station.

"Huh?" the short, stocky hedgehog asked, his black, beady eyes staring through his round glasses at the female rat in a floral print dress. He wore blue coveralls whose back was made bumpy by his dorsal spines, and his clawed feet were bare. In his left hand, he held a worn leather satchel containing the tools of his trade.

"I asked you how it went," Tedija repeated. "Is the transmitter fixed?"

"Oh, yeah, it's fixed." said Sparks, nodding. "For now."

"For now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sparks shrugged. "It's old equipment. It's gonna keep breaking down. Some of those tubes could blow any minute. You need to either replace it with a newer model, or hire a full-time radio technician to keep it up and running."

The rat girl smirked. "That would mean spending real money. Mr. Shachek thinks it would be cheaper to just keep hiring you whenever it goes on the blink."

"And I appreciate the work," said Sparks, "but he's losing money every time his transmitter konks out. And then he has to pay me to fix it. Speaking of which . . ."

"Oh, yeah," Tedija said, taking a checkbook out of her desk. "What's your real name again? I keep forgetting."

"Ososi Dosco," Sparks said.

She repeated it to herself as she wrote out the check, and smiled at him as she handed it over, her big incisors gleaming. "That's a nice name. You know, you're awfully cute, Ososi. Like to go out and have a drink with me after work? I get off at nine."

Sparks stared at the rat girl as he stood there with the check in his small, clawed hand. "A drink? I . . . uh . . . gee . . . I dunno." He squirmed, looking uneasy.

She smiled at him. "Well, you don't have to decide right now. I'm sure you'll be back soon enough." Then her smile faded at the opening of the office door, which had the words "B. SHACHEK, STATION MANAGER" painted in black letters on its frosted glass window. A hulking, shaggy, brown figure in a white shirt, blue tie, black trousers, and red suspenders emerged and glanced down at the check in the hedgehog's hand.

"I see you've been paid, Sparks," the bear rumbled, not sounding especially happy about the idea. "I assume that means the transmitter is fixed."

"I don't take money for a job I haven't finished, sir," said Sparks. "But you should really just replace it. There are several newer models that are just as powerful and use less electricity. You might even be able to buy one secondhand from one of the big stations that's upgrading their equipment. You'd save money in the long run."

Shachek growled at him. "When I want your advice on how to run this station, I'll ask for it!"

Sparks trembled, biting his lip and clenching his fists as anger welled up inside him. "Yes, sir," he said, fighting to keep it under control.

The bear then shifted his gaze to his receptionist. "Don't you have some work to do, Miss Saethen?"

"Yes, Mr. Shachek!" the rat girl said, busying herself at her typewriter by hitting random keys, printing a line of gibberish on the sheet of paper in it. The bear nodded, apparently satisfied that she was being productive, and went back into his office, closing the door behind him. She stopped typing nonsense and glared at the door. "Pompous ass! He had no call speaking to you like that!"

"I should go," said Sparks as his anger began to subside, stuffing the check in his pocket and heading for the exit.

"See you later, Ososi!" Tedija said, winking at him.

Sparks left the station and paused on the stairs down to the street, his pointed features twisted into a dark scowl. If only that stupid bear knew what he was dealing with, Sparks thought. He smiled, licking his lips at the thought of the bear cowering before him, pleading for his life, eyes filled with terror. Then he sighed and descended the stairs to the street.

Station PYBR was located in the northern slums of the city of Nexasho. To the south, soaring skyscrapers loomed hazy in the distance. A rabbit boy, a badger boy, a deer girl, and a sparrow girl were playing stickball in front of the station, all of them dressed in dirty, ragged clothes. They shrieked and laughed as they skirted around the potholes in the street. Sparks watched them for a moment, then turned and walked away.

After a quick stop at a bank to cash the check, Sparks went to an ugly, run-down apartment building. He checked his mailbox, and smiled when he saw a new radio magazine among the bills and advertisements. He unlocked the front door and went inside.

The elevator was out of order again, so he climbed the stairs to the sixth floor. He wasn't even breathing hard when he got there. In fact, he wasn't breathing at all. He went inside his dingy little apartment, dumped all the mail save the magazine on the living room table, took off his glasses, threw himself onto a sagging couch whose stuffing was sticking out in several places, and eagerly began to read.

An hour later, the door to the apartment opened and a tall, slender blue jay came in, dressed in a peacoat, a white turtleneck sweater, and dark green trousers, all of which had seen better days. A black fisherman's cap perched atop his azure feathered head. The bird's face was horribly disfigured, the right side having been smashed in at some point. His black eyes were uneven, and his black beak was bent slightly to the right.

"Hey, Cyacit!" Sparks said excitedly, sitting up. "They're setting up a commercial television broadcasting station here in Nexasho! There've been experimental stations before, but this will be the first one intended for public use! Soon, everyone will be able to have television pictures beamed right into their homes!"

"That's nice," the blue jay replied, removing his cap and coat, tossing them onto the table atop the mail, and slumping into the broken-down easy chair facing the couch.

"Let me guess," said Sparks, noting the bird's morose tone. "The Delphinia docked today."

Cyacit looked at him, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"Because she docks in Nexasho every fourteen days like clockwork, and you get like this every time. You watch her sail into the harbor, all big and majestic, while you stand there on a grimy little tugboat, and it always depresses you."

The blue jay rested his ruined face in one scaley black hand, his elbow dug into the armrest of his chair. "It was worse this time. My tug was one of the ones that pushed her to her berth. Her hull was so close I could have reached out and touched it."

Sparks winced. "That must have been rough. I know how much you enjoyed serving on her . . . with Roazor."

Cyacit sighed. "I miss the open sea. I'm sick of puttering around a congested, polluted, stinking harbor."

"How would you sail on the open sea?" Sparks asked. "After a day or two, your craving for blood would overwhelm you! How could you get it without someone noticing?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Cyacit. "It wouldn't be practical."

Sparks lay back on the couch and gazed up at the ceiling. "I miss sex. All I can think of when I see a pretty girl is how good her blood would taste."

Cyacit nodded. "Me too."

"It's not even so much the sex I miss," Sparks continued. "Just to have a warm body next to me, holding me, kissing me . . ." He growled and clenched his fists. "It's not fair, damn it! We're nos! We're so much stronger than them! We should be able to do whatever we want! We should be living like kings, instead of hiding in a crappy little apartment. Today, the manager of the station whose transmitter I fixed mouthed off to me, and I wanted to rip his throat out. I wanted him to grovel and beg and know who his master was before I killed him!" The hedgehog's small black eyes began to glow like hot coals, and a pair of long, thin fangs emerged at the end of his pointed snout.

"And then they'd destroy us," said Cyacit. "The only way we'll survive is by not drawing attention to ourselves. It worked for the Contessa Batori for centuries. It can work for us, too."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sparks said bitterly. "Still, a guy can dream, can't he?"

Cyacit shook his head. "I haven't had a dream since I died."

"Neither have I," Sparks said, looking wistful. He glanced at the window. It was getting dark outside. "You hungry?"

"Starving," the blue jay replied.

"Then let's go get something to eat."

Cyacit nodded, and they both rose and left the apartment.

"Well, this is new!" Firefox remarked as Europa walked into the lounge at Heroes of Zoolok Headquarters.

"Indeed," said Ken-Jo of the Stone. "If I did not know better, I would say she was ready for a night on the town."

Europa regarded the pair with mild annoyance. "I am not exactly a recluse," she said. "I have been known to go out from time to time."

"Dressed like that?" asked Firefox, gesturing at her. The panda was wearing a flowing purple satin gown, cinched at the waist, with a fetching little choker around her neck, while Firefox and Ken-Jo were both in costume, the fox wearing a red leotard with a yellow collar and red boots, her arms and legs bare, the armadillo wearing only a brown kilt with a black sash belt, a curved sword hanging at his side.

"I am meeting someone," Europa said simply.

Firefox grinned. "That someone wouldn't happen to be a handsome otter in a smart, white uniform, would it? I seem to remember reading in the paper that the Delphinia was arriving today."

Europa shrugged. "What if it is? Am I not permitted a social life? Yours is certainly active enough."

"Is it ever!" said Volthawk, the bird sitting on a nearby couch, wearing a blue jerkin and boots and red gloves, tights, and goggles, his arms encased in segmented metallic sleeves. "There are pictures of her and Ken-Jo on the covers of all the tabloids! You should read some of the things they're saying about you, Datura! And they didn't say stuff this bad about Ken-Jo when he was a villain!"

Firefox regarded him scornfully. "Aren't you too young to be reading that sort of trash, Raoim?"

Volthawk looked indignant. "Hey, I have a girlfriend!"

"Yes," said Europa, smirking, "and at least they were not caught in a compromising position in the back of a movie theater. It would seem that even a pair of teenagers have more sense than you two." Firefox and Ken-Jo looked at each other and blushed and grinned sheepishly.

"I think it's great to see you finally loosen up a little and have some fun, Gemma!" said Volthawk, smiling at Europa.

The panda smiled back. "Thank you, Raoim. I shall try to comport myself with more dignity than certain other Heroes I could name—not that that would be difficult." She turned and left the room.

Firefox sighed. "You know, that holier-than-thou attitude of hers can become very tiresome."

"She does have a point," said Ken-Jo. "We have a responsibility to set a good example. Especially me."

Firefox smiled at him. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, my love." And she put her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. The armadillo responded in kind, arms around her waist, holding her close while they kissed.

"Geez!" said Volthawk, scowling. "Get a room, you two!"

"That sounds like a great idea!" said Firefox, grinning as she took Ken-Jo's clawed hand and ran out of the lounge, pulling him along.

As they exited, they passed a boar with green fur, red eyes, and long tusks curving upward on either side of his snout, wearing an olive-drab tank top, khaki trousers, and brown leather boots. He watched them go, then turned to Volthawk. "W-w-what's with th-th-them?" he asked.

"Don't you read the papers, Slash?" Volthawk asked, sounding annoyed.

Slash blinked. "Oh."

"I still can't get over seeing you dressed like that, Digby," said First Officer Keref Zibaeri as he and Digby Rasklin descended the gangplank to the pier from the ocean liner Delphinia. "That suit must have cost more than you made in a year as a stoker!"

The squat, powerfully-built platypus looked down at his outfit—a silk shirt, custom-tailored jacket, and slacks from one of the finest shops in Tatrolozu, a beautiful hand-weaved tie, and gold cufflinks—and then up at the high-end fedora atop his head. Then he looked at the slim otter beside him in his smart, white uniform, a bouquet of roses held in one webbed hand. "Actually, I'm scared to death of getting it dirty," Digby said.

Zibaeri laughed. "Afraid the Contessa will be angry with you?"

Digby shook his head. "Nah, she'd just buy me another one. It'd just seem, I dunno, wasteful. Like buying a big, expensive meal, then taking one bite and throwing the rest away."

Zibaeri shrugged. "Well, it's her money."

"Yeah," said Digby. "Hard to get used to this, traveling first-class aboard a ship I used to shovel coal on."

"You don't have to accept her generosity, you know," said Zibaeri.

"I know. Thing is, I'm kind of enjoying living the good life for a change. In the past few months, I've been places and seen things I only could've dreamed about before."

"Nothing wrong with indulging yourself a bit," said Zibaeri. "After all, you only live once."

The platypus looked at him. "We both know that's not true."

"Yeah," the otter said uneasily. "Look, I have to go meet someone. Nice seeing you again, Digby."

"Nice seeing you again too, sir," Digby replied.

Zibaeri chuckled as they stepped off the gangway onto the pier. "You don't have to call me 'sir,' Digby. You're not a crewman anymore."

"Sorry," said Digby. "Force of habit. See ya 'round, Officer."

Zibaeri watched the platypus leave, and then walked to the ticket office and stood leaning against the blue-painted wooden wall, waiting. He checked his watch to make sure of the time. A few minutes later, he smiled as he saw a familiar black-and-white-furred figure in a purple satin gown walking toward him. "Hello, Gemma," he said, smiling at her.

"Hello, Keref," Europa replied, smiling back. She gazed at the roses. "Those look lovely."

Zibaeri glanced down at them and shrugged. "They were on sale in the gift shop, so I figured, what the hell?" He handed them to her.

"That was very sweet of you," said Europa, sniffing the roses.

The otter chuckled. "Well, I'm a sweet guy. So, dinner at the usual place?"

"Actually, I thought we might go somewhere different for a change," said Europa.

"Lead on, then," said Zibaeri, smiling.

They walked through the gathering dusk to a late-model sedan in the parking lot, and Europa opened the driver-side door, got in, and opened the passenger door for Zibaeri, laying the roses carefully in the back seat as he climbed in. She fired up the car's steam engine, and a minute later it glided silently out of the parking lot.

"You'll never guess who I met on the ship," Zibaeri said as she drove.

"Digby Rasklin," Europa said immediately.

Zibaeri stared at her. "Did you just read my mind?"

She smiled. "I did not have to. It had to be someone we both know, which narrows it down considerably, and someone I would not expect, which rules out Roazor and Dr. Tesejoa, since they both serve on the Delphinia with you. The Contessa Batori's arrival would certainly have been mentioned in the paper, so that only leaves Digby. How is he?"

"Looking well," the otter replied, still slightly flustered. "Living in the lap of luxury appears to agree with him. How are Datura and Ken-Jo?"

"Being childish and irresponsible," said Europa.

"Yes, I read about the incident in the movie theater."

The panda rolled her eyes. "Honestly, would it kill them to show a little restraint?"

Zibaeri shrugged. "People do silly things when they're in love."

"Like forgetting that someone is allergic to roses?"

The otter's black eyes went wide. "Ye gods! How are you not having a sneezing fit?"

"I am suppressing it with superior willpower," Europa replied.

"Ah, the same way you can suppress pain, fear, and fatigue."

"Exactly." She turned her head toward him. "So, you are in love with me."

Zibaeri nodded. "I'm afraid so. How about you?"

"I do not know if I would call what I feel for you 'love.' However, I do feel a strong affection for you."

The otter smiled. "You have such a romantic way of putting things."

Europa sighed. "This is not an area where I have a great deal of experience, Keref. And in Janvia, it is considered improper to be intimate with someone of a different species."

"Ken-Jo is from Janvia, and he doesn't seem to have any problem being intimate with Firefox."

"Ken-Jo was also a criminal. And there is something else you should know. Not long after I joined the Heroes of Zoolok, I began to have romantic feelings toward our team's leader."

Zibaeri blinked. "Omega Mouse? Does he know?"

She shook her head. "No. My own inhibitions prevented me from telling him. Datura figured it out, though."

The otter looked relieved. "Well, that's something, anyway. I'm not sure I'd want to be in a romantic rivalry with someone who could snap my spine like a twig!"

Europa glanced at him. "Kesu would never do that."

"No, I don't suppose he would," said Zibaeri. "Still, it's a little intimidating for an ordinary sailor to be up against the world's greatest hero."

"You are not up against him, Keref. Kesu and I are friends, no more."

Zibaeri nodded. "And what about us?"

Europa smiled. "Let us discuss it over dinner."

Digby Rasklin walked into a seedy waterfront bar he used to frequent when he was a stoker, the smell of tobacco smoke and stale beer hitting his nostrils. "Digby!" the big, light gray horse bartender said, grinning widely at him. "Where've ya been? And where'd ya get that outfit?" He looked the platypus over admiringly.

Digby smiled at him as he walked up to the bar and seated himself on a stool. "Hello, Seril. I decided to get out of the belly of that ocean liner and see the world. Gimme a beer."

The horse chuckled as he filled a mug and passed it to him. "See it with what? The Digby I remember always blew his paycheck on gals and booze before the weekend was over!"

Digby lifted the mug to his rubbery black bill and took a gulp, then removed a silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket with one webbed hand and dabbed his mouth with it. "Yeah, well, I met someone."

Seril smirked. "Some rich lady on that boat took a fancy to ya, did she?"

Digby smiled, gazing down at the foam floating on the surface of his beer. "You could say that."

Seril chuckled. "Well, who could blame her, with muscles like yours? Hope you gave her her money's worth!"

Digby shook his head. "I could never give her as much as she's given me."

The horse peered at him curiously. "You okay, Digs?"

The platypus sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He took another gulp from his beer.

"If you've had a touch of good fortune," came a grandiloquent voice from behind him, "perhaps you could be persuaded to share the wealth with your old friends?"

Digby turned on his stool to see a plump rooster wearing a ragged pinstripe suit with a pink carnation in the lapel and a battered top hat. "Hi, Cloed," he said, smiling. "Buy you a drink?"

"Most kind of you," Cloed said, plopping his wide rump down on the stool next to Digby's. "A mug of whatever the well-dressed gentleman is having, good sir," he said to Seril, who grinned, filled a mug for the rooster, and passed it to him. Cloed picked up the mug in both his clawed, scaly hands and dipped his beak into it.

"How's the hobo business?" Digby asked the bird as he drank.

Cloed lifted his beak from his mug. "I fear my itinerant brethren are afflicted."

Digby chuckled. "By what? Cirrhosis?"

The rooster eyed the platypus solemnly. "By a pair of blood-sucking ghouls!"

Digby's smile melted away. "What?"

Cloed nodded. "Scores have been attacked by two crimson-eyed fiends who stalk the streets at night, seeking victims."

Seril smirked. "And I'm the emperor of Janvia."

Cloed glared at the horse. "You impeach my word, sir? I myself have been victimized by these monsters, who drank the red wine of life itself from my very throat!"

Seril peered at the rooster's feathered neck. "I don't see no scar there."

Cloed's clawed hand stroked his neck, and he looked embarrassed. "Yes, somehow, they left no mark. But I tell you, it did happen! I remember it clearly!"

The horse sneered at him. "You couldn't remember your own name after a pint of whiskey, you old sot!"

"The pair who attacked you," Digby asked urgently, "what species were they?"

"A blue jay and a hedgehog," Cloed replied.

Digby bit his lip. "Where did this happen?"

"On the north side of town."

Digby swallowed the rest of his beer in a single gulp, slapped some coins down on the counter, and bolted out of the bar, leaving Seril and Cloed staring after him in bewilderment.

Cyacit and Sparks walked together down a dark, gloomy street on Nexasho's north side, in the shadows of old, dilapidated buildings that were slowly crumbling into dust. They had the street to themselves, as most folks in this neighborhood had the good sense to stay indoors at night. The blue jay and the hedgehog moved from one streetlamp's yellow circle of light to the next, scanning the doorways and alleys for a likely target.

As they walked past an alley, they saw a group of teenagers crouching together and shooting dice. The teens looked up as Cyacit and Sparks went by, both pretending not to notice them. Malicious chuckles followed, and the two nos stopped and turned around as the teens emerged from the alley. There were five of them. The largest was a wildebeest boy, wearing shorts and a leather vest that hung open, exposing his chest fur. His followers included a brawny tiger boy, a lithe impala boy, a stocky groundhog boy, and a rather provocatively-dressed parrot girl.

"Hey, nice night!" said the wildebeest, grinning at the pair unpleasantly.

"What do you think?" Sparks asked Cyacit.

The blue jay shook his head. "Too many."

"Oh yeah, you better be scared!" the tiger sneered, smacking his fist into his palm.

The impala came forward, cloven hooves clacking on the sidewalk, and peered at Cyacit. "Pal, your face is ugly!"

"Thanks," said Cyacit, smirking. "I hadn't noticed."

"Maybe we can straighten it out for ya!" said the groundhog, his buck teeth shining.

"Get lost, you punks," Sparks muttered.

The wildebeest growled at the hedgehog. "Nobody talks to us like that on our own turf, shorty!"

"Tell you what," said the parrot girl, leaning on the wildebeest and stroking one of his curved horns. "Why don't you just give us all your money, and maybe my boyfriend here won't break your legs. That sounds fair, right?" She smiled at the two.

"Why don't you come take it?" asked Sparks, smiling back.

"All right, shrimp!" the wildebeest snorted. "You asked for it!" He strode toward Sparks, glaring down at the little hedgehog. Sparks hauled back and rammed his fist into the wildebeest's knee. There was the sound of cracking bone, and the boy screamed and fell to the pavement, clutching his shattered knee and writhing in agony as the others stared down at him in shock.

"What was that about breaking our legs?" asked Sparks, a wide grin on his pointed snout.

The tiger snarled and leaped at the hedgehog, claws outstretched. Sparks leaped as well, meeting the tiger in midair and bowling him over onto his back, causing the tiger to yelp in surprise. As the tiger lay there staring up at him, Sparks's eyes began to glow bright red, and long fangs extended down from his snout.

"No killing, Sparks!" Cyacit warned. Sparks growled and bopped the tiger lightly on the nose, breaking it. The tiger howled in pain, blood gushing from his nostrils, and clutched his muzzle in both hands as the groundog helped him to his feet, while the parrot knelt beside the sobbing wildebeest, cradling him in her arms.

"You're dead, ugly!" the impala said to Cyacit, drawing a switchblade from his pocket and flicking it open.

The blue jay glanced down at the weapon, then at its wielder, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You're right, I am," he said, spreading his arms and offering himself openly. The impala snarled and stabbed him in the gut. His eyes went wide when the blue jay failed to react in any way, just stood there gazing at him dispassionately with those uneven eyes. The impala let go of the knife and stepped back, mouth agape, as Cyacit reached down with one clawed hand, pulled the knife from his belly, and snapped it in two with both hands, tossing the broken halves away. Then he casually backhanded the astonished impala across his face, sending him staggering backward.

The tiger, the groundhog, the parrot, and the impala began backing away from Cyacit and Sparks, then turned and ran, leaving the wildebeest lying on the pavement, clutching his broken knee. "No, please, don't leave me!" the wildebeest begged, desperately crawling after his companions, looking back at the blue jay and the hedgehog in terror. Cyacit and Sparks just stood and watched him crawl away as the hedgehog's face returned to normal.

"Hee hee!" came a wheezing laugh from a nearby doorway. They both turned toward it. Sitting with his back against the door was a portly wombat in a filthy overcoat. He raised a half-full bottle to them with one hand. "You sure taught those hooligans a lesson!" he said with a gap-toothed grin.

Sparks looked at Cyacit. "How about this one?"

The blue jay nodded. "Perfect."

"Wow!" said Sparks, grinning as he and Cyacit walked home. "I'd swear I could actually taste the booze in that guy's blood! If I could still get drunk, I'd be flying right now!"

"Yeah," said Cyacit, nodding. "He sure was loaded."

"You know," said Sparks, "when I've got a belly full of blood, I almost feel like I'm alive again!"

"I know what you mean," said Cyacit. "It's like downing a whole pot of coffee."

They came to the entrance to their apartment building, and Cyacit went up the stairs and unlocked the door. Then he turned and looked back at Sparks. The hedgehog was still standing on the sidewalk. "You coming?" the blue jay asked.

"I think I'm gonna stay out for a while," said Sparks.

"And do what?" asked Cyacit.

"That's my business."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Sparks," Cyacit said.

Sparks glared up at him. "When I was alive, everyone pushed me around 'cause I was small. I don't have to take that now. No one tells me what to do anymore, Cyacit, not even you!"

The blue jay stared at him, caught off-guard by the hedgehog's belligerence. "All right, then. Just be careful, okay?"

Sparks smirked. "Like there's anything in this city that can hurt me."

Cyacit hmphed and went inside, the door closing behind him.

Sparks checked his wristwatch. It was 8:45. He grinned and ran off down the street as fast as his short legs could carry him.

Tedija Saethen emerged from the darkened PYBR radio station at nine o'clock and paused to lock the door behind her. The rat girl turned and blinked in surprise when she saw Sparks leaning against the wall beside the door, hands in his pockets, smiling at her. "Sparks!" she said. "I wasn't expecting you to be here!"

"I thought I'd take you up on that offer to have a drink after all," the hedgehog said, grinning.

She smiled. "Why, that's swell! There's a bar just down the street."

"Actually," said Sparks, pushing himself off the wall, "I was thinking maybe we could go to your place. After all, these streets can be dangerous at night."

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "I think I'd like that, Ososi."

Sparks took her hand in his, and they walked off together.

Officer Hopanga was walking along the dark, empty street beneath the glowing halos of the streetlamps, swinging her nightstick and whistling. She was a gray rabbit with violet eyes, wearing the blue uniform and cap of the Nexasho Police Department. Like most rabbits, she was not large, but what she lacked in size, she made up for in speed, agility, and exceptionally keen hearing. She knew this neighborhood well, having walked a beat here for several years now, and had seen everything it had to offer, both good and bad. It had been a quiet night so far, with no serious problems for her to deal with, and she hoped that it would remain so.

That hope was dashed as she heard a woman's scream from above her. Her head snapped up, and her eyes widened as she saw a hedgehog leap out the third-story window of a nearby apartment building. Oddly, he was naked. She watched in horror as he plummeted to the pavement, then gasped as he landed on his feet and stood up, apparently unharmed. Then he ran off down the street while the screaming from above continued.

Hopanga stared after the hedgehog, momentarily stunned, but then quickly recovered. While she could have caught up with him easily—the hedgehog hadn't been born who could outrun a rabbit—whoever was screaming might need help, and that was her first priority. She ran to the nearest lamppost and banged it four times with her nightstick. The metallic clangs echoing through the streets would alert any officers within earshot. Then she ran to the door of the apartment building and hammered on it with her fist, yelling, "Open up! Police!"

After a moment, the door opened, and an elderly female deer stood before her in a nightgown, blinking her bleary eyes. Hopanga darted past her without speaking and ran up the stairs to the third floor. She found the apartment where the screaming was coming from and pounded on the door, demanding entrance. When there was no response, she backed up to the opposite wall, hurled her body against the door as hard as she could, breaking it open, and looked for the source of the screams.

In the bedroom, a female rat was sitting up in her bed, clutching the covers and screaming hysterically. She, too, appeared to be naked. Hopanga ran up to the rat and placed her hands on her shoulders. "Miss! Are you hurt?" the rabbit asked.

The rat stopped screaming and stared at her. She didn't appear to be injured. There was no blood on her body. "I . . . I . . . I'm okay!" she stammered, swallowing.

"What happened, miss?" Hopanga asked, looking at her intently. "I saw a naked hedgehog fleeing your apartment. Did he try to rape you?"

The rat shook her head, trembling. "N-no! I invited him up! We . . . we were going to . . . well, you know." She looked away, embarrassed.

Hopanga nodded. "I understand. But why were you screaming?"

"Well, we were in bed, making love, but then he . . . couldn't."

"Couldn't?" asked Hopanga.

"The big couldn't."

"I see. But that still doesn't explain why you were screaming."

"When he couldn't, something happened to him. He . . . he changed!"

"Changed? You mean he became violent?"

"Yes! No! I mean . . ." The rat looked at her, biting her lip. "You're going to think I'm crazy!"

"I promise, miss, I won't think you're crazy," said Hopanga patiently. "What happened?"

"His . . . his eyes turned red! And he grew fangs! And he looked at me like he was going to tear my throat out! I thought he was going to kill me! So I screamed!"

Hopanga nodded. "Have you been drinking, miss?"

"A little," the rat said defensively. "But we only had one drink together before . . . before we . . ."

At that moment, another police officer burst into the room, a fox named Wilder. The rat pulled the covers up over her body, blushing bright red in her leaf-like ears. Hopanga went over to Wilder and led him out into the living room.

"What's the story?" the fox asked. "Domestic squabble?"

"Doesn't look like it," Hopanga replied. "She claims she wasn't assaulted."

Wilder smirked. "They always say that."

"It's weird, though," Hopanga continued. "She brought a hedgehog up here to have sex with him, and when he couldn't perform, she says his eyes turned red and he grew fangs!"

Wilder raised an eyebrow. "Has she been drinking?"

"She says she just had one drink. But here's the thing. I saw him jump from her bedroom window!"

Wilder stared at her. "From the third floor?"

"Yeah, he fell three stories, then ran away."

"That's impossible!"

"I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes!"

Wilder thought for a moment. "You think he might have super powers?"

"I can't think of any other explanation," Hopanga replied. "Anyway, right now he's running around without any clothes on, and even though he didn't hurt this girl, that doesn't mean he's not dangerous. We should try to apprehend him."

"After you," said Wilder, gesturing at the door.

Hopanga and Wilder left the apartment and went down to the street. "He went that way," Hopanga said, pointing.

Wilder nodded. "You take the north side of the street, I'll take the south."

They separated, taking out their flashlights and playing the beams around into the alleys between the buildings. There was no sign of the hedgehog anywhere. Then Wilder spotted an empty lot where a building had recently been torn down, and went to investigate it. Shining his light over the debris, he heard movement and spun, his light stabbing in that direction. It was only a lizard scampering across a pile of bricks. Wilder sighed with relief, turned, and found himself staring into a pair of blazing red eyes.

It was the last thing he ever saw.

Cyacit sat in the broken-down easy chair in his apartment, listening to the radio as his mind wandered backward in time, back to his happy childhood, growing up on his parents' farm and playing with his friends. Then his memories continued to high school, where his good looks had led to his first tumble with a girl. What had her name been? And then, with her sister, herd lizards grazing around them, unconcerned. Then on to the Maritime Academy, where he'd met the white tiger girl Roazor, the first mammal he'd ever slept with, and with whom he'd fallen in love. And then, to that night on the Delphinia, when her first officer, a bison named Sekos Kichora, had murdered him, sinking his fangs into his feathered throat. The ensuing blackness of death had been lifted, and he'd found himself reborn as a nos—a creature neither alive nor dead, with a thirst for blood.

Cyacit was roused from his thoughts by the sound of someone pounding on the door of the apartment, and immediately became tense. Sparks wouldn't have needed to knock, since he had a key, and almost any caller was likely to be bad news.

"Cyacit, open up!" came Sparks's frantic voice through the door.

The blue jay rose from his chair, went to the door, and opened it. In the hallway stood Sparks, naked and covered in blood. Cyacit stared at him as the hedgehog ran inside, and closed the door behind him.

"Sparks, what have you done?" Cyacit asked.

The hedgehog looked up at him, trembling. "I didn't mean to kill him! I couldn't help myself!"

"Didn't mean to kill who?" Cyacit demanded.

Sparks whimpered. "Some cop."

Cyacit's eyes went wide, and his beak fell open. "You killed a cop? You idiot! Do you have any idea what this means?"

"I'm sorry!" Sparks said miserably. "I didn't mean to!"

"It doesn't matter if you meant to or not!" Cyacit yelled at him. "The police will tear this town apart looking for you! Looking for us!" Then it finally registered that the hedgehog was naked. "What happened to your clothes?"

Sparks swallowed. "I . . . I left them in Tedija's apartment."

"Who the hell is Tedija?"

"A girl at the station whose transmitter I fixed today. I went to her place, and things started off okay, but then I changed, and she screamed, and the cops came, and I killed one!"

Cyacit groaned. "So the cops have your name and your phone number. That's just great!"

"I just wanted to have sex!" Sparks whined. "I thought maybe since I just fed I could . . ."

Cyacit pointed at the bathroom. "Clean yourself up! We have to get out of here, fast!"

"I'm sorry!" Sparks whimpered, and ran into the bathroom.

As the hedgehog washed the blood off himself, Cyacit went into the bedroom, pulled a strongbox out from under the bed, and opened it. Inside was what little money he and Sparks had managed to save up. He hurriedly began stuffing it into his pockets. Sparks emerged from the bathroom, drying himself off with a towel. Then they both froze at the sound of police sirens—a sound that was quickly getting louder. Cyacit ran to the window and looked down as Sparks pulled on some clothes. Two patrol cars pulled up in front of the building, lights flashing.

"Shit!" Cyacit swore.

"What are we gonna do?" Sparks asked, quaking in fear.

"Head to the roof!"

They dashed out of the apartment to the stairway. Beneath them, they could hear the police running up the stairs, since the elevator was out of order. The two nos climbed the four flights to the roof, burst out onto it, and ran to the edge of the building. There was roughly a thirty foot gap between them and the roof of the next building.

"Think you can make it? Cyacit asked Sparks.

The hedgehog nodded. "No problem."

They both backed up to give themselves a chance to build up speed. As they began running, a yak, a prairie dog, a mouse, and a sheep wearing police uniforms emerged from the stairway, holding revolvers. "Freeze!" the yak bellowed, as all four aimed their guns at the two nos, who continued running. The revolvers spat bullets, and Cyacit felt one strike his back, but he ignored it, as he no longer felt pain. He leaped into space at the edge of the roof and sailed across the gap, his clawed feet landing on the adjacent roof. A moment later, Sparks landed beside him. The hedgehog looked up at him, grinning, and they both ran for the stairwell, leaving the police officers standing atop the adjacent building staring after them, dumbfounded.

Europa and Keref Zibaeri lay together on the bed in her apartment, satin sheets wrapped around their bodies. The panda gently stroked the otter's furry chest, eliciting a happy growl from him.

"That was amazing," Zibaeri said. "It was like you always knew what I wanted, every moment."

Europa giggled. "Of course I did, you silly otter. I'm a telepath."

"Oh, right," said Zibaeri. "I forgot."

"Normally, I have a strict policy against reading my friends' minds," said Europa, "but in this case, I decided to make an exception." She looked pensive. "You see, I have never done this before."

Zibaeri blinked. "Really? A beautiful woman like you?"

"As I said, in Janvia there is a cultural proscription against mating outside one's species. Male pandas are scarce. You may have also noticed that I tend to be somewhat . . . reserved."

Zibaeri smiled. "Well, you're certainly no Firefox."

Europa nodded. "Ever since I was a child, I have had to build walls around myself to keep other people's thoughts out. That limited my ability to form relationships. I have been accused of being cold and aloof, lacking compassion, and I suppose to some extent, that is true." She sighed. "When Firefox and I were waiting to board the Delphinia, just before we first met you, there were two street urchins selling apples to the people in line. I refused to buy any, because I could see in their minds that the apples were stolen. Datura bought one from each of them. When I criticized her for rewarding their criminal behavior, she told me she knew what it was like to be poor. Looking back on that incident now, I feel ashamed for being such a prig."

Zibaeri gazed into her eyes. "Gemma, if there's one thing you don't lack, it's compassion. When we were fighting those nos creatures on the Delphinia, all you cared about was saving the people on that ship. Your own life meant nothing to you. That sounds pretty compassionate to me."

Europa smiled. "That is very kind of you to say, Keref."

Zibaeri shrugged. "Just calling 'em like I see 'em." He stroked behind her head and smiled back at her. "Thanks for letting me past your defenses."

"You are welcome," said Europa. She snuggled up next to him, and they kissed and held each other close.

Outside the window, there was a flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder, and raindrops began pattering on the glass. "Looks like a storm's starting," Zibaeri remarked.

Europa nodded. "They are common this time of year. Let it rain. I do not care." She snuggled closer.

The tranquility of the moment was broken by a harsh, electronic buzzing noise that Europa knew all too well. She groaned and let go of the otter, picked up her wrist communicator from where it lay on the nightstand beside the bed, and switched it on. "Yes?" she asked, sounding more than a little annoyed.

"Gemma," came Firefox's tinny voice through the speaker, "I just got a call from Commissioner Vrudd. It sounds like there's a couple of nos loose in the city."

Europa sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. "Nos?" The word caused Zibaeri to sit up immediately as well.

"A blue jay and a hedgehog," added Firefox.

"Cyacit!" Europa gasped. Zibaeri bit his lip.

"It makes sense," said Firefox. "He and the hedgehog radio operator, Sparks, were the only nos unaccounted for when they were all taken off the ship in Nexasho. Well, except for that squirrel, Ortrum, but who knows where he ended up after getting tossed into the fourth dimension. Anyway, Sparks apparently killed a police officer. The cops tried to nab them both at their apartment, but they escaped."

"I shall head to police headquarters at once," said Europa. "Is Omega Mouse back yet?"

"No, he's still helping out with the earthquake relief efforts in Endken. You're in charge."

"I see. Have the rest of the team meet me at police headquarters. We will coordinate with Commissioner Vrudd."

"Roger. Firefox out."

Europa threw aside the covers, got out of bed, and began putting on her costume, which consisted of a sky-blue leotard and boots with a matching cape, while Zibaeri donned his uniform. "I'm going with you," the otter said.

"This is not your concern, Keref," Europa replied sternly.

"The hell it isn't! Cadet Cyacit was my friend!" Then his voice dropped. "And what happened to him was my fault."

"You must not blame yourself for that," said Europa.

"I sent him to tell the captain!" Zibaeri insisted.

"You could not have known that Kichora would kill him," Europa countered, "or that he would be resurrected as a nos. None of us knew what was happening at that point. You made the most sensible, logical decision you could based on the facts available to you at the time."

Zibaeri nodded. "And it got a good man killed—a kind, decent man with a girl who loved him. Killed and then turned into one of those . . . things!"

Europa went over and put her arms around him. "I am sorry," she said quietly. Her mind touched his, and then she let go of him and stepped back. He did not move. His black eyes remained staring straight ahead, unseeing. She turned and left the room.

Several minutes later, Zibaeri came out of his trance. He looked around the room, blinking in confusion, then snarled. "Damn it, Gemma!"

Heads turned and conversations stopped as Europa walked through the squad room of police headquarters to Commissioner Vrudd's office, her cape flowing behind her. She opened the door to find Firefox, Ken-Jo, Slash, and Volthawk waiting for her. Behind a desk sat a mole wearing a white shirt, a yellow-and-black striped tie, and red suspenders. A pair of spectacles perched atop his long, pointed snout, and his large, long-clawed hands were folded over a file on the blotter. The window behind him was streaked with rain and occasionally lit up by lightning.

"Good evening, Commissioner," said Europa, nodding to the mole.

"Good evening, Europa," Vrudd replied, in a thin, nasal voice. "Firefox tells me you can explain what killed one of my men tonight."

"That is correct," Europa replied. "You remember the incident on the ocean liner Delphinia several months ago?"

"The papers said that members of a fanatical cult murdered a number of passengers and crew on that vessel," said Vrudd. "It was my understanding that the cultists had all been rounded up and incarcerated and that the matter was closed."

"That is only part of the truth, Commissioner," said Europa. "Those cultists were in fact creatures called nos—dead bodies magically reanimated by the cult's leader, Dr. Mari Kallia, who styled herself after the ancient Elinian cat goddess, Ba-vast."

Vrudd's enormously magnified eyes blinked. "Magically reanimated corpses? Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious, Commissioner. Firefox, Ken-Jo, and I witnessed the process personally. Dr. Kallia employed a magical artifact called the Eye of Destiny. She ended up committing suicide, her nos servants were captured, and we thought that was the end of it. Unfortunately, two of them apparently managed to sneak off the ship and enter the city—a blue jay cadet named Cyacit, and the Delphinia's radio operator, a hedgehog called Sparks."

Vrudd frowned. "Why wasn't I told that two of these creatures might be loose in the city?"

"Cyacit and Sparks disappeared while the Delphinia was in the midst of a violent storm at sea," Europa replied. "It was assumed that they had been killed and their bodies washed overboard."

"Well, that assumption was wrong!" growled Vrudd, picking up the file from his desk with his long-clawed fingers and opening it. "Cyacit and Sparks have been living in an apartment in the north slums. Sparks—whose real name is Ososi Dosco, incidentally—has been working as a freelance radio technician, and Cyacit has been serving as a crewman on a tugboat. Tonight, Officer Hopanga saw Dosco fleeing the apartment of one Tedija Saethen, a receptionist at station PYBR. Apparently, he had gone there for a romantic liaison. Saethan claims that while they were in bed together, Dosco's eyes began to glow red and he grew fangs. When she screamed, he jumped from a third-floor window to the street and ran away uninjured."

"Wait!" said Firefox. "He didn't kill her?"

Vrudd shook his head. "No, he left her alive and unharmed."

"That's odd," said Firefox. "Nos are generally pretty vicious."

"As attested to by the fact that while searching for Dosco, Officer Wilder was attacked and his throat torn out," said Vrudd.

"Nos feed on blood," said Europa. "They are also far stronger than a normal person, possibly as strong as Slash."

"Well, that explains why the officers who went to Cyacit and Dosco's apartment couldn't stop them from escaping," said Vrudd. "One insists that he shot Cyacit but he and Dosco still jumped thirty feet to the next roof."

"As nos are no longer truly alive," said Europa, "bullets have little effect on them. There are only two known ways of killing them—burning and beheading. Commissioner, I humbly submit that we are better qualified to deal with these creatures than the police are."

Vrudd chuckled grimly. "If you think these nos are out for blood, you should see my men! Officer Wilder was respected, well-liked, and had a family. I doubt I could stop them from hunting down Cyacit and Dosco if I tried."

"Any police officer who encounters them is likely to become their next victim," said Ken-Jo.

Vrudd peered at the armadillo coldly. "Then you had better find them fast, hadn't you?"

"There is another thing you should know, Commissioner," said Europa. "Since nos were created to serve a cat goddess, they are naturally subservient to cats. If any cat gives them a command, they are compelled to obey it. You might want to tell your men this."

"Noted," said Vrudd.

"Commissioner," said Firefox, "have there been a lot of unsolved murders in that area since the incident aboard the Delphinia?"

"No more than usual," Vrudd replied. "If there had been a sudden increase in the homicide rate, we'd be looking into it."

Firefox smirked. "As I recall, the police didn't much care what went on in the northern slums. At least, they didn't when I lived there."

Vrudd's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "I resent the implication that we regard crimes there as less important than in any other part of the city. My officers—who are both overworked and underpaid—patrol that area constantly, and one was just killed by creatures that you, by your own admission, let slip through your fingers!"

Firefox bristled and was about to reply when Europa motioned her to be silent. "Your criticism is well taken, Commissioner," the panda said. "Rest assured, we shall do everything in our power to apprehend these creatures. May we have the address where they lived, please?" After he gave it to her, she turned to her teammates. "Let us be off, Heroes." She left the office, the others following her.

As they walked through the squad room, Europa spoke telepathically to Firefox. "That was not helpful, Datura."

"No, but it was true," Firefox thought back. "I grew up in that neighborhood."

"I know you did, but we may need the commissioner's assistance, and antagonizing him is not the way to get it."

They exited the front doors of police headquarters and descended the steps to the sidewalk in the pouring rain. In the street before them sat the Ark, a thirty-foot streamlined silver vehicle with eight wheels, a blunt rounded nose, a tapering tail, and a sleek fin along its back. Slash pressed a button on a remote control he was holding, and a door flipped down from the side, forming a ramp.

"Smile for the camera, Heroes!" came a grating voice from beside the steps. They all whirled in that direction, and were momentarily blinded by a flash of light. Then, a green duck wearing a scruffy trenchcoat and fedora and holding a camera faded into view. In a sudden blur, Ken-Jo's sword was against the duck's throat.

"Hey, watch it, pal!" the duck protested, swallowing as he looked down at the shining silver blade.

"Stand down, Ken-Jo!" ordered Europa. "What are you doing here, Nebus Zemake?"

"What do you think?" Zemake replied, relaxing as Ken-Jo sheathed his sword. "I'm a reporter. I go where the news is, and you people are news."

"Get lost, you creep!" snarled Firefox.

"Aw, Datura," Zemake said with mock sympathy, "still upset about those pictures I took of you and Ken-Jo smooching in that movie theater?"

"You had no right to do that!" the armadillo growled at him.

"Hey, if you're gonna make out in a public place, you gotta accept the consequences. So, rumor has it Officer Wilder's murder is connected to that incident on the Delphinia a few months back. Any comment?"

"We have no time for you, Zemake," Europa replied, "and even if we did, we could not comment on an ongoing police investigation." She turned and began walking toward the Ark.

Zemake shrugged. "Fine, I'll just go have a chat with your otter boyfriend, then."

Europa whirled on him, eyes blazing. "Leave Keref out of this, you leech!"

"Then give me an exclusive!" Zemake demanded.

"Go to hell!" Europa turned and ascended the ramp into the Ark. Zemake moved to follow, but Slash seized his shoulders and held him firmly while the other Heroes filed into the Ark, each of them glaring at the duck in disgust as they passed.

"Let go of me, you green-furred freak!" Zemake shouted, struggling against the boar's iron grip. When everyone else was aboard, Slash turned him around, seized his camera, and crushed it between his hands. Then he ascended the ramp, and it rose behind him until it was flush with the Ark's silver hull.

"This isn't over, Heroes!" Zemake yelled, shaking his fist at the Ark. "The people have a right to know!" He watched, fuming, as it rolled silently away. Then he took a pad from a pocket of his trenchcoat and began reviewing his notes as he stood there in the rain.

A moment later, a taxicab pulled up to the curb, soaking the duck in the process. As Zemake cursed angrily, an otter in a white uniform and cap got out and strode past him toward the entrance to police headquarters.

"Keref Zibaeri?" Zemake asked.

The otter stopped and looked at him. "Who wants to know?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nebus Zemake, Nexasho Tribune."

"I haven't got time to talk to you right now," said Zibaeri, turning and heading for the door.

"If you're looking for Europa," said Zemake, "you just missed her." When Zibaeri turned toward him, the duck added, "She and her friends left in the Ark a minute ago."

"Damn it!" the otter swore, stamping a webbed foot on the gleaming sidewalk.

"Was there something you wanted to tell her?" Zemake asked.

Zibaeri looked disappointed. "I just thought I might be able to help."

"How much do you know about what's going on?"

"Not much. Only that a police officer was killed."

Zemake nodded. "Do the names Cyacit and Ososi Dosco, a.k.a. Sparks, mean anything to you?"

"No, why should they?" Zibaeri asked, but the look on his face said otherwise.

"The police have issued an APB for a blue jay and a hedgehog by those names in connection with the murder of an Officer Wilder," said Zemake. "Does this have anything to do with the incident aboard the Delphinia a few months ago?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about that," said Zibaeri. "Especially to a reporter."

"I spoke with some of the passengers who were aboard that ship," said Zemake. "They mentioned red-eyed monsters and blood sacrifices. Lately, there've been rumors of red-eyed monsters preying on Nexasho's hobo population. Everyone laughs it off as the delirious ravings of a bunch of drunken bums, but I think there may be more to it. If you know anything about this, it could save lives. You'd be a hero." The duck looked at him hopefully.

Zibaeri hesitated a moment. "I think I may know where Cyacit and Sparks are hiding out," he said at last.

Zemake smiled. "Tell me more."

Digby Rasklin walked along through northern Nexasho as the torrential downpour covered the streets in gray fuzz, filled his ears with static, and made the dull, dreary buildings shiny and bright. The rain didn't bother him, as platypuses are naturally aquatic, but his suit was probably ruined. Ah well, he thought, easy come, easy go.

He spied a squat, rotund figure lying curled up in the doorway of an abandoned building and went over to it. It was a wombat in a dirty overcoat, apparently asleep, a half-empty bottle lying on its side next to him. Digby crouched down beside the man and shook his shoulder gently. "Hey, are you all right?" he asked.

The wombat's eyes snapped open, and he flailed wildly, screaming, "Get away! Get away from me!" His fist caught Digby on the bill, knocking the platypus back against the wall and stunning him, the wombat remarkably strong for a wino. Then the wombat scrabbled back into a corner of the doorway, looking around frantically, his small black eyes wide. "Where are they? Where are they?"

"Where's who?" Digby asked, rubbing his bruised bill.

"The blood-sucking demons!" the wombat cried.

"They're gone," said Digby. "I'm a friend. My name is Digby. These demons attacked you?"

The wombat rubbed his nearly spherical brown-furred head, whimpering. "Why are you even asking? You don't believe me. No one believes us. We're all just a bunch of dirty, drunken bums."

"I believe you," Digby said.

The wombat looked at him as if he were the answer to a prayer. "You do?"

Digby nodded. "It happened to me once, too."

The wombat seized the platypus's webbed hand and squeezed it, causing Digby to wince with pain. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," said Digby, pulling his hand free and flexing it. "Why don't you tell me about them?"

"There's two of them—a blue jay and a hedgehog," the wombat said. "They've been preying on us like cattle. Most of my friends have been attacked, some more than once. It started with that coyote, Zignish. We found him dead in the city dump with his throat ripped out. The cops wrote it off as a misdemeanor killing."

Digby blinked. "A misdemeanor killing?"

"Yeah, one bum kills another bum. Cops treat it like a misdemeanor. They don't care what happens to us. We're an embarrassment to them, a nuisance. They wish we'd all just disappear. After that, almost every night, someone else would be attacked."

"But . . . there couldn't have been a murder a night!" Digby protested. "The cops would have done something, even if all the victims were just bums. Look at you. You're alive."

The wombat nodded. "They usually don't kill their victims, just drink their blood." He put his hand to his neck, feeling it. "And the wounds they make heal fast. Mine are already gone. That's why no one believes us when we tell them. They think we just hallucinated it. But they're real, I swear! I saw them tonight! They beat up some young toughs, and then they grabbed me. They were so strong, I couldn't move! They covered my mouth so I couldn't call for help. Then the hedgehog sank his fangs into my throat, and the blue jay plunged in his beak, and they drank!" The wombat broke down, covering his face with his hands, sobbing and shaking, and Digby reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder, his heart aching for the poor man, remembering when he had been in the same situation.

"There've been other things, too," the wombat continued, when he'd managed to compose himself. "Disappearences."

"Hobos disappear all the time," said Digby. "They drift on to other places. It's their nature."

"Not without telling their friends, they don't!" the wombat countered. "At least a dozen of us have just vanished into thin air, without a word to anyone!"

Digby nodded. "That does sound suspicious." At that moment, the long silver shape of the Ark sped by, twin veils of water spreading out to either side behind it. Digby watched it glide past, then turned back to the wombat. "I have to go. Thanks for the help." He took out his wallet and handed the wombat some money. As the wombat sat staring at it, Digby took a glass vial from inside his jacket, opened it, poured the contents into his mouth, and then bolted down the street after the Ark.

"I don't think we're gonna find any clues here to tell us where they went," said Volthawk as he walked from the bedroom into the living room of the seedy apartment Cyacit and Sparks had been renting.

Europa looked up from paging through the radio magazine she had found lying on the couch. "I fear you are correct, Raoim." She gazed back down at the magazine and at the worn leather satchel full of radio-fixing tools on the table. "All these tell us is that Sparks is a radio bug, which we already knew."

Ken-Jo emerged from the bathroom. "The bloody footprints we found in the hall lead to the bathtub, which still contains traces of blood. It must be from the late Officer Wilder."

Volthawk nodded. "According to Officer Hopanga's report, Sparks left his clothes in Tedija Saethen's apartment. He must have come home naked and washed Wilder's blood off before the cops arrived. Those footprints are about the size and shape a hedgehog would make."

Firefox chuckled as she leaned against the wall of the living room. "Looks like those detective magazines you're always reading are finally paying off, Raoim."

Volthawk shrugged. "When you fight crime for a living, it's a good idea to be familiar with the habits of criminals, and proper investigative procedures."

Firefox grinned. "And of course, all those lurid pictures of scantily-clad women on the covers have nothing to do with it."

Volthawk smirked at her. "Like you're one to talk, Miss Ex-Music Hall Dancer."

Firefox shrugged. "I'm not ashamed of where I come from."

Ken-Jo smiled. "Shame is not a word in your vocabulary, Datura." She stuck her tongue out at the armadillo.

Slash entered the living room from the kitchen. "N-n-no f-f-food," he said.

"Of course," said Europa. "What use would nos have for food?"

"There's an open, empty strongbox in the bedroom," said Volthawk. "Must have been where they kept their money. Nothing else of interest—just some old clothes, more radio magazines, and a few books of stories about adventure on the high seas."

"They must miss being able to sail the open sea," Europa mused. "With their dependence on blood, extended sea voyages would no longer be possible."

"You think that might give us some clue to their whereabouts?" asked Firefox.

Europa sighed. "I do not know. I wish Nightmunk were still here. He was good at this sort of thing."

Firefox grinned. "Well, we don't need him, not with Junior Detective Raoim Coromek on the case!"

Volthawk glared at her from behind his red goggles. "I am not a junior detective! I'm a full-fledged member of the Heroes of Zoolok! Stop treating me like a kid, Datura!"

The exchange was interrupted when a well-dressed and extremely wet platypus appeared in the open doorway to the hall. They all turned and stared at him.

"Digby?" Europa asked, astonished. "What are you doing here?"

"Making a big puddle," Firefox observed.

"Hello, Europa, Firefox, Ken-Jo," said Digby, looking at each of them.

"You all know this guy?" Volthawk asked.

Europa nodded. "His name is Digby Rasklin, and he was a stoker aboard the Delphinia."

"He sure dresses good for a stoker," Volthawk commented.

"I got a rich friend," the platypus said.

"You've still not explained your presence here, Digby," said Europa.

"I heard there were two nos in the city preying on winos," Digby said, "so I decided to track them down. I saw the Ark go by, and I thought you might be able to help me, so I followed it here."

"What are you, some kind of nos hunter?" Volthawk asked.

"No," said Digby. "I want to help them."

Volthawk's beak fell open. "Help them do what, kill more people?"

Digby blinked. "Who've they killed?"

"A police officer, unfortunately," Europa replied.

Digby sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Son of a bitch!" He looked at the panda. "I know one of them is Cyacit. Who's the hedgehog?"

"Sparks, the radio operator," said Europa.

"I don't understand!" said Volthawk. "Why do you want to help them?" Then a thought struck him and his eyes widened. "Are you a nos?"

"No," said Firefox, "but his rich friend is."

"Who's that?" asked Volthawk.

"The Contessa Batori."

"Oh, the bat who helped you fight Ba-vast."

Digby gestured at Volthawk. "Can this kid be trusted?"

Volthawk glared at the platypus. "I am not a kid!"

"He is a Hero of Zoolok," said Europa. "You can rely on his discretion."

"Good," said Digby, "'cause the Contessa doesn't want the whole world to know what she is." He looked around at the apartment. "So, they were living in this dump?"

"Until tonight," said Europa. "We do not know where they are now."

"Well, if they have any sense," said Digby, "they'll find someplace to lie low until the heat dies down."

"That may prove difficult," said Europa. "They need blood. And the police now know they exist and are searching for them. Plus, Cyacit is disfigured, which will make him easy to spot."

"Disfigured?" asked Digby.

Volthawk nodded. "His landlady said his face looked like someone hit it with a sledgehammer."

"Huh," said Digby. "Wonder when that happened. Last time I saw him, he looked fine."

Firefox spoke up. "Didn't Fedis Tirale mention he sent Cyacit and Sparks to chase down that squirrel nos?"

Europa nodded. "Second Officer Kialo Ortrum, yes. That was the last time anyone saw them. Ortrum showed up later on Castaway Island with Ba-vast and all the other nos, but Cyacit and Sparks were not among them."

"Yeah," said Firefox, "we suspected Ortrum killed them both, but we never got a chance to ask him, since Ba-vast threw him into the fourth dimension, along with the Eye of Destiny."

"Well, at least with that thing gone, nobody can create any more nos," said Digby.

"Let us hope," said Europa.

Beneath Pier 12 on the Nexasho waterfront lay a series of small shacks. They were not free-standing structures, but part of the pier itself, its planking serving as their roofs. They had been built back in the days of sail, as places where sailors too poor to afford an inn or a hotel could stay between sea voyages or while they sought employment. Nowadays, they were seldom used, as they were rough, drafty, damp, smelly, and thoroughly uncomfortable.

"You really think they'd hide out in one of those waterfront shacks?" asked Nebus Zemake dubiously, beads of rain rolling down the sides of his beak.

"Well, I remember Cyacit mentioning once when we were walking along that pier together that they'd make great hideouts," Keref Zibaeri replied, his uniform now completely soaked through. "After all, hardly anyone uses them anymore."

Behind them, a tabby cat named Itak Mowett shivered and pulled his raincoat tighter around himself, wishing he were back at the warm, dry offices of the Nexasho Tribune. Unlike the duck and the otter, he did not belong to an aquatic species and disliked being wet. "I still don't understand why you asked me to come along," he said miserably.

Zemake glanced at him in annoyance. "Because Officer Zibaeri said we needed a cat."

"But why?" Mowett pressed.

"Call it insurance," said Zibaeri. "I'm not sure how much of the Cyacit I knew is still there, and I hardly knew Sparks at all."

"But what's so special about me being a cat?" Mowett asked, water dripping from his whiskers.

"Because they'll have to do as you say," replied Zibaeri.

Mowett stared at him. "Why?"

"Because that's how it works, okay?" Zemake growled. "Besides, you wanna be a go-fer all your life, or do you wanna help break a big story that could land you a job as a real reporter?" He glanced over at Zibaeri. "Ready?"

The otter nodded. "Ready." They all headed down the ramp that led to the shacks.

In Shack 23, Cyacit and Sparks sat facing each other as rain dripped down on them from the gaps between the planks above.

"You couldn't have screwed up worse if you tried," Cyacit said disgustedly. "We were trying to build new lives for ourselves. We went out of our way not to kill anyone. Now, we've got the whole city after us. And why? Because you had to get laid!"

"I'm sorry, Cyacit," the hedgehog whimpered, squirming beneath the blue jay's implacable gaze. "I just wanted to feel something!"

"You think I don't?" Cyacit exploded. "You think I like being this way? I had a girl who loved me! We were even talking about getting married! And I had a face that didn't scare people!" The blue jay covered his mutilated face with his scaley black hands and screeched in frustration.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" Sparks asked desperately.

Cyacit uncovered his face and looked at his companion. "Sparks, I've been thinking. It would be best if we split up."

Sparks stared at him. "What?"

"The cops are after a blue jay and a hedgehog. If we're seen together, we'll be nailed for sure. Plus, I'm a liability to you. There's a thousand hedgehogs in this city, but there's only one blue jay with a face like this, and every cop in Nexasho is looking for him!"

Sparks swallowed. "Cyacit, no, please, don't leave me! You're the only friend I have in the world! I don't want to spend forever alone!" He stood up, went over to the blue jay, and put his arms around him, hugging him. "Please, don't go." Cyacit sighed and put his arms around the little hedgehog, gently patting his spiny back.

A knock on the wood plank door jerked both their heads up. "Cyacit? Sparks?" came Zibaeri's voice. "You in there?"

"What do we do?" Sparks whispered. Cyacit rose, went to the door, and opened it a crack.

"Ye gods, man!" Zibaeri exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "What happened to your face?"

The blue jay ignored the question, looking past him at Zemake and Mowett. His eyes widened when he saw the latter. "You brought a cat along?"

"Only as a precaution," said Zibaeri. "You can hardly blame us. After all, you two are wanted for the murder of a policeman."

"That was an accident," Cyacit growled. "Sparks lost control."

The hedgehog came up beside him. "Who are these guys?" he asked, gesturing at Zemake and Mowett.

"These are Nebus Zemake and Itak Mowett, from the Nexasho Tribune," Zibaeri replied. "Can we come in out of the rain? I promise, we won't try anything if you don't."

Cyacit hesitated, then opened the door, and he and Sparks stepped back. Zibaeri, Zemake, and Mowett entered the shack, the two nos watching the cat warily.

"Damn it!" said Zemake. "I wish that stupid pig hadn't wrecked my camera!"

"So, I guess you remembered me saying that these shacks would make great hideouts," Cyacit muttered, glowering at Zibaeri.

The otter shrugged. "I took a gamble, and it paid off."

"Well, now that you've found us, what do you want?"

"Cyacit," Zibaeri said, "we used to be friends. You know I'd never double-cross you."

"Things change," Cyacit said sullenly.

"Obviously. But I don't turn my back on my friends just because they've suffered a mishap. That's why I've come to ask you to turn yourselves in."

The blue jay laughed harshly. "Oh yeah, I'm sure the cops will be very understanding!"

"I'll vouch for you," Zibaeri pressed. "You said Officer Wilder's death was an accident."

"No one will believe that!" Cyacit protested. "They'll destroy us!"

"Europa, Firefox, and Omega Mouse persuaded the authorities to spare the other nos," said Zibaeri. "They'll do the same for you."

"What's a nos?" Mowett asked Zemake.

"Later!" the duck said urgently.

"Where are the other nos?" Cyacit asked Zibaeri.

"They've been interned," the otter replied.

"Which is another way of saying 'locked away forever'!"

"Not forever. Just until they prove they can be trusted."

Cyacit pointed at Sparks. "You really think they're ever going to trust him after he killed a cop?"

Zibaeri sighed. "I don't know. But at least you'd be giving them a reason to think they could trust you. Use your head, Cyacit. You can't go on running and hiding indefinitely."

The blue jay shrugged. "The Contessa Batori managed it."

"She isn't wanted by the police for murder!"

"The Contessa Batori is a nos?" Zemake asked, eyes wide, his beak hanging open.

Zibaeri groaned. "Oh, for pity's sake!"

"What's a nos?" Mowett asked again.

Suddenly, the door to the shack flew open to reveal two figures: a slim marten and a huge gorilla, both wearing black coats and hats. The others inside the shack all stared at them in surprise as the new arrivals stood there in the rain, lightning flashing behind them.

"Who the hell are you?" Zemake demanded angrily.

"Pardon the intrusion, gentlemen," the marten said, in a soft voice. "My employer wishes to speak to Mr. Cyacit and Mr. Dosco."

"And who's your employer?" Cyacit asked, glaring at the marten suspiciously.

"All I'm at liberty to say is that he has a proposition for you both," the marten replied. "One that I promise you will find very rewarding."

Zemake looked at Zibaeri. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

The otter shook his head. "Not a clue."

Cyacit scowled at the marten. "I don't know who you are or what you're selling, but we're not interested. Get lost!"

The marten gave a small smile. "I'm afraid I must insist." He glanced up at the gorilla. "Rondo?" The hulking ape began lumbering forward.

"Oh, I'm so scared!" said Sparks, smirking and smacking his fist into his palm as he advanced toward the tremendously larger gorilla. Rondo swept one enormous hand toward the little hedgehog and effortlessly swatted him aside. Sparks crashed through the wall of the shack and into the adjacent one, leaving a splintered hole in his wake. At the same time, Rondo's eyes began glowing bright red.

"He's a nos!" Zibaeri gasped, eyes wide.

"What's a nos?" Mowett shrieked, staring at the gorilla in terror.

Cyacit lunged at Rondo, throwing a punch at his face. The gorilla caught the blue jay's scaley fist in his massive hand. Cyacit tried to pull free, but the ape held him fast.

"Don't kill him, Rondo," the marten ordered. "The boss wants them alive."

"Okay, enough of this," snorted Zemake. "Itak, tell 'em to knock it off!"

Mowett swallowed and nodded. "Stop fighting, you two!" Immediately, Rondo and Cyacit became completely passive, the gorilla releasing his grip on the blue jay's hand as Mowett stared at them in amazement. The marten sighed. In a single fluid motion, he drew a switchblade from his coat, flicked it open, and expertly thrust it up under Mowett's ribcage and into his heart.

"Itak!" Zemake cried in horror, as the marten withdrew his knife and the young feline fell to his knees and slumped forward to lie prone on the filthy floor of the shack, a pool of blood spreading beneath him, his eyes wide and sightless.

"You son of a bitch!" Zibaeri shouted at the marten, fists clenched with rage. "He was just a kid!" But then he shrank back as the marten took a step toward him, with the blood-stained knife in his hand and no emotion on his face.

"Wait!" cried Cyacit, causing the marten to stop and glance at the blue jay. "We'll come, on the condition that you don't hurt either of them." He gestured at the duck and the otter.

"We can't leave behind any witnesses," the marten said quietly.

"Then take them along," said Cyacit. "Otherwise, your friend here will have to kill us, and I know your boss doesn't want that."

The marten nodded and closed his blade. "Agreed." Then the wall beside him burst apart as Sparks crashed through it a second time, the hedgehog glaring at him, eyes blazing crimson, fangs protruding from his pointed snout. Zemake, who was closest to the door, took advantage of the distraction to dash out of the shack and dive into the water. The marten moved to follow, then stopped as he realized the futility of trying to outswim a duck.

"Calm down, Sparks," said Cyacit. "We're going to see their boss." Sparks looked up at the towering black shape of Rondo, swallowed, and nodded, his fangs retracting and his eyes returning to normal.

Zibaeri knelt down beside Mowett's body and put his webbed hand on the cat's back. "I'm so sorry," he said, tears staining his furry cheeks.

"Let's go," said the marten. Zibaeri nodded and rose, and he, Cyacit, and Sparks let the marten and his large companion escort them away.

Nebus Zemake surfaced beside a wood piling that had once been part of a pier that had long ago crumbled into the harbor, its ancient, rotten timber shrouded in seaweed, encrusted with barnacles, and shot through with shipworms. He now wore only his shirt, tie, and trousers, having lost his hat and coat while swimming. He watched through curtains of rain as Zibaeri, Cyacit, Sparks, Rondo, and the marten went to a sedan parked beneath a streetlamp at the base of the pier, got in, and drove away. Then he began swimming toward shore.

He found a ladder, hauled himself up out of the water, and then climbed it to the boardwalk. His webbed feet slapped against the wet wooden planks as he trudged along to where he'd parked his car. He took out his keys, unlocked the car, got inside, closed the door, and grasped the steering wheel with both hands, sitting there as raindrops drummed on the roof. The image came into his head of Mowett lying on the dirty floor of the shack in a puddle of blood, his glassy eyes staring at nothing, like a discarded doll. He remembered all the times he had yelled at the boy, berated him, insulted him, made jokes at his expense. He shivered, lowered his head, and began pounding on the steering wheel, screaming at the top of his lungs, until his hands and throat were sore. Then he stuck his key in the ignition, fired up the car's steam engine, and drove off.

Keref Zibaeri watched the rain-drenched streets of Nexasho slide by from the back seat of a sedan, Rondo sitting between himself and Sparks, the marten driving while Cyacit rode shotgun. His heart was sick with guilt as he thought about Mowett lying murdered on the floor of that waterfront shack. He looked up at Rondo. The gorilla was sitting motionless, eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking. Nos never blinked. It was one way they could be identified when they were simulating normal people.

"Where did Rondo come from?" Zibaeri asked. The marten continued driving in silence.

"He must be from the Delphinia," said Sparks.

The otter shook his head. "None of the nos on the Delphinia were gorillas."

Sparks looked over at him. "You sure about that?"

"You and Cyacit were the only ones who didn't show up with Ba-vast on Castaway Island. Where were you, anyway?"

"Officer Tirale sent us to stop Ortrum from telling Ba-vast that he'd turned against her," said Cyacit.

"Is that how your face got messed up?" Zibaeri asked.

Cyacit nodded. "Yeah, Ortrum wiped the floor with us and smashed my face in. Since we didn't have any more orders, and we didn't want spend eternity as Ba-vast's slaves, we decided to jump ship when the Delphinia docked in Nexasho and disappear into the city. We were lying low in an apartment in the north slums, and doing okay, until this guy," he glared at Sparks, "had to go and kill a cop!"

"I've said 'I'm sorry' a dozen times!" Sparks whined.

Cyacit growled at the hedgehog. "If you had to kill someone, why didn't you kill that girl you were with?"

Sparks bit his lip. "She was nice to me," he said meekly. Cyacit groaned and shook his head.

"Wait a minute," said Zibaeri, turning his gaze on the marten. "How did you know they were hiding out in those waterfront shacks?"

"Yeah," said Cyacit, looking at the marten as well, "how did you know where to find us?"

"My boss told me where you were," the marten replied.

"And how did he know?" Cyacit demanded.

"You can ask him yourself in a few minutes."

The marten pulled the car into the parking lot of a large brick building and killed the engine, and he and Cyacit got out. Rondo put one huge arm around Sparks and the other around Zibaeri and got out as well, his weight making the car rock as he exited. The marten walked to a door, unlocked it, and went inside, the others following. He led them down a corridor to a spiral stairway, and they all descended it to the building's basement. Immediately, their nostrils were filled with the cloying aroma of incense, a scent that Zibaeri, Cyacit, and Sparks had all smelled before, aboard the Delphinia, in the cabin of Dr. Mari Kallia, the archaeologist whose body had served as host for the spirit of the ancient cat goddess Ba-vast.

Before them lay a large room that appeared to be a laboratory of some sort. It was lined with bookshelves containing hundreds of tomes, some of which looked very old. There were tables holding many objects: ceramic bowls, wooden boxes, glass jars containing dried plants and organs and animals floating in preservatives, candles dripping wax, knives, mortars and pestles, measuring scales, all manner of chemical apparatus, and small statues of wood, stone, and clay. In the center of the room was a clear area where a strange design had been traced on the floor—a design that had also been on the floor of Dr. Kallia's cabin on the Delphinia. Facing the design was an easy chair in which a red squirrel sat, reading a book. He had a stocky, muscular build and wore an ornate jeweled necklace that covered much of his furry chest and shoulders, gold bands on his wrists, biceps, and ankles, and nothing else. He looked up from the book as the group entered, and he grinned, buck teeth gleaming. "Oh, good!" he said. "You found them!" Then his grin faded as his large black eyes fixed on Zibaeri. "Keref? What are you doing here?"

"Kialo!" said Zibaeri, staring at the squirrel. "So, you managed to find your way back from the fourth dimension!"

"I was only there for a moment," Kialo Ortrum said, closing the book and setting it aside, then rising to his clawed feet. "Ba-vast hurled me through it to get me and the Eye of Destiny away from your friends, the Heroes of Zoolok. I popped out in a garbage dump on the outskirts of Nexasho."

"Sounds like the perfect place for you," said Zibaeri, smirking. "I take it you're the 'boss' who sent these two goons to collect us?"

"I sent them to get Cyacit and Sparks. I had no idea you'd be there."

"And how did you know we'd be there?" Cyacit asked.

The squirrel grinned. "That's my little secret, for now. So, here we are, four former crewmen of the Delphinia, reunited!"

Zibaeri scowled. "I don't suppose you'd be interested to know that your torpedo here," he gestured at the marten, "murdered a boy who was with us."

Ortrum looked at the marten. "Did you do that, Avic?"

Avic nodded. "He was a cat."

"Ah, I see," said Ortrum. "Well, I guess it had to be done, then. Pity."

"Pity?" Zibaeri snarled. "Is that all you have to say? That poor kid is dead!"

Ortrum shrugged. "I didn't put him in harm's way. You did."

The otter clenched his fists, glaring at him.

"Ortrum," said Cyacit, "seeing you naked is making me uncomfortable. Could you put some clothes on?"

The squirrel sighed. "No, I can't."

Cyacit stared at him. "Why not?"

"Because Ba-vast said she wanted me naked as a symbol of my subservience," Ortrum said irritably.

"But Ba-vast is dead!" said Zibaeri.

"No, her avatar, Dr. Kallia, is dead. Ba-vast's essence still exists in the ring she wore."

Sparks giggled. "You mean, you can't wear any clothes, ever?"

Ortrum glared at the hedgehog. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I do, actually!" said Sparks, grinning. Then he shrank back in fear as the squirrel took a menacing step toward him.

Cyacit moved to get between Ortrum and Sparks. "Avic said you had a proposition for me and Sparks. What is it?"

"Simple," said Ortrum. "I want you to join me."

"Join you?" the blue jay asked, incredulous. "After what you did to me?" He pointed at his ruined face.

Ortrum sighed. "I was following orders, just as you were. Neither of us had a choice in the matter, so don't blame me for something I had no control over. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I broke your face."

"Sorry doesn't change my looks!" snapped Cyacit.

"No," said Ortrum, grinning, "but I know something that can."

Zibaeri stared at him. "The Eye? You still have it?"

"Of course I still have it! Where do you think he came from?" The squirrel pointed at Rondo, who had been standing there as still and silent as a mountain since they'd come in.

"You're using it to create new nos?" Zibaeri asked, mouth agape.

Ortrum looked embarrassed. "Yes and no."

"What do you mean?" Cyacit demanded.

The squirrel threw up his hands and walked in a circle, his question mark of a tail flicking behind him. "I'm still trying to figure out how it works! It's not like it came with an owner's manual. That's what all this is for." He gestured at the contents of the room. "I've been teaching myself about magic. Unfortunately, it's something of a lost art, and wading through all the garbage to find the real stuff takes a lot of time. On the plus side, time is something I've got plenty of. I've tried creating new nos, but so far the results have been, shall we say, less than ideal. Rondo there is my greatest success. You should have seen my earlier attempts—flopping around on the floor, no muscle coordination at all. I doubt they had any brain function, just a jumble of reflexes."

"But you can use the Eye to fix my face?" Cyacit pressed.

"Oh, sure, no problem. Fixing a nos is a lot easier than making new ones."

"So I agree to join you and you fix my face, is that the deal?" Cyacit asked.

"In a nutshell," said the squirrel, grinning.

Zibaeri looked at Cyacit. "Wasn't the whole reason you and Sparks jumped ship so that you wouldn't be slaves? What do you think he'll make you?"

Ortrum glared at Zibaeri. "You're starting to piss me off, Keref. I've been nice so far because we used to be shipmates. Don't push it!" He turned his gaze back to Cyacit. "So, what's your answer? A safe place to live and your face restored, or out there on your own as a disfigured fugitive?"

Cyacit looked torn. "What would I have to do?"

Ortrum smiled. "I have a partner. He pays the bills, in exchange for which I do occasional favors for him—favors only a nos can do."

"Like killing people?" Zibaeri asked accusingly.

"Sometimes. I've been helping him consolidate his power by eliminating threats and rivals. As his fortunes rise, so do mine. Pretty soon, we're going to own this town. And you can be a part of that." He grinned at the blue jay.

"Don't do this, Cyacit," Zibaeri urged. "Don't let him destroy your soul!"

The blue jay smirked at the otter. "What makes you think there's anything left to destroy?"

"You were willing to go up against Rondo to save me. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Ortrum scowled. "What are you, his conscience? Let him make up his own mind!"

Cyacit was silent for a long moment as everyone except Rondo looked at him. Finally, he spoke, and his voice was weary and desolate. "I don't want to kill people, and I don't want to own this town. I just want my life back."

Ortrum growled, and his eyes turned scarlet as his incisors changed into needle-like fangs. "Look at us, Cyacit! We're nos! We're immortal! And we have power!" He slammed his fist down on a table beside him and broke it in half, the ends tilting upward as the objects on it crashed together in the middle. "We're better than normal people! What was so great about your old life that you want to go back to it?"

"I was in love," said Cyacit.

"And I had a wife and three kids! You think I don't miss them? But once I've mastered the Eye, I can turn them into nos. Then we'll all be together, forever!"

"Are you insane?" asked Zibaeri, aghast. "Listen to what you're saying, man! You're talking about murdering your own family and condemning them to this . . . half-life!"

"I'm talking about saving them from death!" Ortrum shot back. "Being a nos isn't a curse, it's a blessing!" He looked at Cyacit. "I can do the same for Roazor. You can be with her for all eternity!"

Cyacit shook his head. "I couldn't do that to her."

Ortrum snarled and turned his attention to Sparks. "What about you? You're wanted for killing a police officer. You have no future out there. But you can have one with me."

The hedgehog took Cyacit's scaley black hand and squeezed it. "Cyacit's my friend," he said. "Where he goes, I go."

Ortrum smirked at him. "According to the evening paper, you were spotted fleeing a girl's apartment. I'm guessing things didn't go too well?"

"That's none of your business!" Sparks growled.

The squirrel grinned, fangs gleaming. "The Eye can temporarily energize your body so it functions like it did when you were alive. You could have sex again."

Sparks stared at him, open-mouthed. "Does it really work?"

Ortrum nodded. "Sure, it does. I've done it myself!"

Sparks looked up at Cyacit, then let go of the blue jay's hand and trudged over to stand beside the squirrel. "I'm sorry, Cyacit," he said, looking ashamed.

"It's okay," Cyacit said quietly.

Ortrum looked down at the hedgehog, grinning. "How appropriate. After all, you'd have never become a nos if I hadn't killed you."

Sparks nodded. He'd been at his post in the Delphinia's radio room when the squirrel had walked in and, without a word, sunk his fangs into his neck.

Ortrum scratched his chin as he regarded Cyacit and Zibaeri. "So, what am I going to do with you?" He looked at the otter. "Seems a shame to waste a potential test subject. And turning you into a nos would certainly be a blow to that bitch, Europa. Oh yes, I read the society page, and I haven't forgotten the role she played in Ba-vast's defeat." He switched his gaze to Cyacit. "And as for you, there's always the possibility you may reconsider and accept my offer. Rondo, take them to a cell and lock them in." The gorilla shambled over to Cyacit and Zibaeri, his long arms wrapping around the blue jay and the otter as he lifted them off their feet and carried them out of the room while Sparks watched, biting his lip.

"Boss," said Avic softly, "there's something you should know."

"What's that?" Ortrum asked, turning toward him.

"There was someone else at the shack—that duck reporter for the Tribune, Nebus Zemake. He escaped by diving into the water."

The squirrel's crimson eyes widened. "Did he get a look at you?"

"Yeah, he got a good look at me."

"Hmm," Ortrum said. "You better get rid of him, then. I'll locate him for you." Then he looked down at Sparks and smiled. "In the meantime, find Sparks a girl."

"Actually, boss," said Sparks, squirming, "I'm not really in the mood right now."

The lobby of Heroes of Zoolok Headquarters was a spacious room with a high ceiling and a tiled floor painted with the team's emblem, which consisted of a stylized letter H and Z. It was entered from the street through a revolving door, which was never locked. Facing the door was a reception desk behind which sat a uniformed security guard. The desk was manned 24 hours a day and had a telephone through which the guard could communicate with those inside the building. To the left of the desk was a large steel door, which was electronically locked and could not be opened by the guard. The desk and door were monitored by closed-circuit television cameras.

The current security guard, a quagga, glanced up from the magazine she was reading as the revolving door rotated and a bedraggled-looking green duck, wearing a shirt, tie, and trousers but no coat or hat, staggered into the lobby. The duck's clothes were soaking wet and dripping water on the floor, but that was hardly surprising, considering the storm outside. It was unusual for the Heroes to have a visitor so late, but not unheard of. The guard was more surprised that he had braved the storm to come here. Then again, she reflected, he was a duck, and rain didn't bother them much. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked, putting down her magazine.

"Are they here?" the duck asked hoarsely. His expression was anxious and desperate, as if he were extremely worried about something.

"Yes, the Heroes are presently in," the quagga replied.

"I need to see them," the duck said. "Now!"

"Certainly, sir." She reached for the telephone. "Who should I say is calling?"

"Nebus Zemake, Nexasho Tribune."

The quagga paused, frowning. "If you're after an interview—"

"No, I'm not after a damned interview!" Zemake shouted. "I have information of vital importance to them, especially Europa! Now buzz me through!"

The quagga picked up the phone and pressed a button. "A Mr. Nebus Zemake from the Tribune is here. He claims to have information of vital importance, especially to Europa." She listened for a moment, then addressed Zemake. "What sort of information?"

"Her boyfriend is in danger!" Zemake yelled.

The quagga calmly relayed this and listened to the response. "You're to proceed through," she said, hanging up the phone.

There was a loud click from the steel door. Zemake ran to it, pushed it open, and went through. The door swung shut and locked automatically behind him. Beyond the door was a short, blank corridor ending in a second door. This one clicked as well, and Zemake went through it, emerging into the Heroes of Zoolok conference room, a large room with a domed ceiling, containing a circular table bearing the group's emblem and surrounded by chairs. Seated at the table were Europa, Slash, Volthawk, Firefox, Ken-Jo, Digby, and a beaver wearing thick round glasses and a lab coat. This was Dr. Maklin Teshobi, the Heroes' science advisor.

"So, Zemake," said Europa, standing up and looking at him sternly, "what's this about Keref being in danger? And be warned, I will know if you are lying."

"Zibaeri showed up at police headquarters just after you left," the duck said. "He told me he remembered Cyacit mentioning that some waterfront shacks under Pier 12 would make good hideouts, so we checked them out, and Cyacit and Sparks were in Shack 23."

"Why would he tell you that?" asked Firefox suspiciously.

Zemake swallowed. "I told him it would make him a hero."

Europa's eyes widened, and then she looked down, remembering Zibaeri standing there in her bedroom, paralyzed, as she'd left. She looked back up at Zemake. "Proceed," she said, thickly.

"Zibaeri told me about nos and said we needed a cat along," Zemake continued, "so I brought a kid named Mowett from the Tribune with us. We were trying to persuade Cyacit and Sparks to give themselves up when these two goons arrived—a marten and a gorilla. They said their boss had an offer for the nos. Then a fight broke out, and the gorilla turned out to be a nos, and the marten—" The duck stopped as his throat tightened, and his body started to tremble.

"The marten what?" asked Europa tensely.

Zemake struggled for a moment to get the words out, then finally succeeded. "He killed Mowett! Stabbed him dead, without batting an eye! And it's my fault! He didn't want to come! I made him! He's dead, and it's all my fault! That poor kid!" The duck broke down, sobbing and shaking, hugging himself. The others all ran to him, and Slash gently guided him to a chair and sat him down.

"Nebus," said Europa, crouching down and keeping her voice steady, "what about Keref?"

"They took him," Zemake whimpered, rubbing his forehead. "Him and the nos. They drove off in a car. I got away by diving into the water. I don't know where they went."

The others all looked at each other.

"What the hell is going on?" Digby asked.

"I do not know," said Europa, looking worried.

"Can you locate Keref telepathically?" Ken-Jo asked.

The panda shook her head. "Not in the city. There are too many minds, too much mental static."

"Then how are we going to find him?" asked Firefox.

"There's one possibility," Volthawk said, and everyone looked at him. "That marten sounds like he could be a professional killer. The police might have a line on him."

Europa nodded and turned to Zemake. "Nebus, try to remember what the marten looked like. Form an image of him in your mind." She waited, watching the mental image come into focus. "Thank you, Nebus. Now sleep." She touched the duck's mind, and he slumped in his chair, unconscious. Then she turned to Firefox. "I need you to take me to police headquarters as fast as you can so I can share that marten's likeness with the officers there. Slash, you are in charge." The boar nodded as Firefox and Europa headed for the lobby.

"There is something about this that troubles me," said Teshobi after they left.

"What's that, Doc?" Volthawk asked.

"Zemake said the gorilla was a nos. If memory serves, there were no gorillas among the nos taken off the Delphinia."

"No," said Digby, "there weren't."

"Then where did this gorilla nos come from?"

"I do not know," said Ken-Jo, "but the thought of a gorilla with the strength of a nos is truly terrifying."

Sparks stood looking up at Rondo with a kind of repulsed fascination. The gorilla seemed almost robot-like, obeying orders that were put to him, but lacking any volition of his own. When not following orders, he became completely inert, standing silent and motionless, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. Sparks frowned. Since becoming a nos, he'd reveled in the strength he'd lacked in life. Yet he'd been no match for Ortrum when they'd fought aboard the Delphinia; prior to that, Europa had flattened him with a single mind blast; and a half hour ago, Rondo had casually pitched him through a wall. It was maddening that despite his newfound strength, he still kept getting his tail kicked.

He looked over at Ortrum, who was seated crosslegged before the design on the floor, chanting softly, eyes closed, while Avic stood nearby. "Who was he?" Sparks asked.

The squirrel opened his eyes and looked back at the hedgehog. "Who was who?"

"Rondo."

Ortrum shrugged. "Just a bum. I've been kidnapping them for use in reanimation experiments. No one misses them."

Sparks looked back up at the huge gorilla. "Why doesn't he talk?"

"I'm pretty sure he's brain damaged. Maybe I'll be able to fix him once I've mastered the Eye. Now, if you don't mind?" Ortrum closed his eyes and resumed chanting. After a minute, an image containing several figures began to shimmer in the air before him, the figures blurry at first but gradually becoming sharper. They soon resolved themselves into Nebus Zemake, Europa, Firefox, Slash, Volthawk, Ken-Jo, Digby, and Teshobi.

"That's the conference room in Heroes Headquarters!" Sparks exclaimed. "I recognize it from a picture I saw once!"

"I can see that," Ortrum growled. "Now shut up!"

They listened as Europa told Firefox to take her to police headquarters and the pair left, and a grin formed on Ortrum's muzzle as Ken-Jo commented on how terrified he was by the prospect of a gorilla nos. "Oh, you have no idea, my friend," he said. "This is perfect. The Heroes are split up. We'll never have a better chance."

"To do what?" asked Sparks.

"To recover Ba-vast's ring."

The hedgehog stared at him open-mouthed. "You want to bring her back?"

"Of course!" said Ortrum. "She's our goddess!"

"What about Omega Mouse?" Avic asked.

"According to the newspapers, he's off helping earthquake victims," Ortrum replied. "With Europa and Firefox over at police headquarters, that just leaves Slash, Volthawk, and Ken-Jo. We should be able to handle them."

"What about the beaver and the platypus?" asked Sparks.

"They don't matter," said Ortrum. The image faded as the squirrel rose to his feet and turned to Avic. "Meet me at the car with Rondo in five minutes."

The marten nodded. "Will do, boss."

Ortrum fixed his gaze on Sparks. "This is your chance to prove your loyalty. Cross me, and I'll have Rondo rip your arms and legs off, understand?"

Sparks swallowed and nodded. "Understood!"

Ortrum left the room, and Avic addressed Rondo. "Rondo. Follow." The gorilla turned and began lumbering after the marten as he headed for the car. "You too, shrimp," Avic added, glancing at Sparks.

Sparks obeyed, glaring at the marten's back.

Keref Zibaeri pounded on the unyielding door of the small, barren steel cell as Cyacit sat silently in a corner, staring at nothing. After a minute, the otter stopped and turned around, panting, and leaned with his back against the door, his fists aching. "Some help would be appreciated," he said.

Cyacit looked up at him with his uneven black eyes. "What's the point? Ortrum isn't stupid. I'm sure this cell is nos-proof."

"So you're not even going to try?"

Cyacit sighed, rose to his feet, walked over to the door, raised a fist, bapped it lightly, then went back to his corner and sat down. "Happy now?"

Zibaeri shook his head. "Roazor wouldn't give up."

The blue jay glared at him, eyes burning crimson. "That was low, Keref." Then his eyes returned to normal. "How is she?"

"She misses you. She doesn't talk about it, but I can tell."

"I wish she wouldn't," said Cyacit. "I wish she'd just forget me and move on."

"She'll move on, eventually," said Zibaeri. "But she'll never forget. She'll always love you, just as you'll always love her."

"You know," said Cyacit, "when Ortrum offered to make her a nos for me, for a moment I was really tempted to take him up on it."

Zibaeri nodded. "Love can be selfish. But I'm glad you didn't. I don't think he's very good at that yet. Rondo doesn't seem to have much going on upstairs."

"Maybe he'll have better luck with you."

"I hope not. No offense, but if I have to be a nos, I'd rather be like Rondo than like you."

"So would I." Cyacit sighed. "You don't know what it's like, Keref, having everything you love so close and being unable to touch it. Every time I watch the Delphinia sail into the harbor, it tears my heart out. I used to dream of being her captain someday, sailing the seas with Roazor at my side."

Zibaeri nodded. "That's a nice dream."

"I don't have dreams anymore. Nos don't sleep, so we don't dream. We just . . . exist." Cyacit looked up at the otter sadly. "I envy you."

Zibaeri went over to the blue jay, crouched down, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I wish there was something I could do."

Cyacit shrugged. "Not unless you know a way to bring dead things back to life."

"I'm afraid not."

"Then I guess I'm stuck like this forever."

Zibaeri sat down beside him. "Maybe you'll find some kind of happiness, eventually. After all, forever is a long time."

"Is the Contessa happy?" Cyacit asked.

"I don't know. She seemed . . . content with what she is. Then again, she's had thousands of years to get used to it. Digby's been living with her in Tatrolozu, by the way."

"Has he?" Cyacit asked, sounding surprised.

"I don't know if they're lovers, though."

"If female nos are anything like male nos, my guess would be no."

"I guess she just likes his company, then."

"Loneliness isn't restricted to the living," said Cyacit. "Why do you think I put up with Sparks? It's not as if we have a lot in common, apart from being nos."

"Well, you're both sailors."

"I'm a sailor. All he cares about is radios."

Zibaeri snorted. "And sex. That's what got us into this jam. And made him switch sides, the lecherous little bastard."

"Speaking of sex," said Cyacit, "do you think we can count on your girlfriend to rescue us?"

"I know she'll try," said Zibaeri. "I just don't know if she'll be in time."

They both sat and waited. There was nothing else to do.

The driving rain pelted Europa as Firefox carried her across town to police headquarters, the fox sheathed in her flaming aura. The aura was a necessary by-product of the combustion process that enabled her to fly, a process that had first manifested when she had fouled up during a dance number in a low-end music hall, eliciting laughter from the audience. Her burning anger and embarrassment had erupted into flames, which had consumed her garments. Since then, she had gained enough control of her power that she could extinguish the flames on her arms, enabling her to carry people without harming them. As a result, the fox remained warm and dry as they flew through the storm, only her arms exposed to the elements, while the unfortunate panda was soaked to the skin.

They landed at police headquarters, went inside, and headed straight for Commissioner Vrudd's office, Europa's cape hanging limp and dripping behind her. The mole looked up from a file he'd been reading as they entered. "What can I do for you, Heroes?" he asked.

"We need to find this man," Europa replied, projecting the image of the marten who had killed Mowett into his mind.

Vrudd blinked behind his glasses, and his mouth fell open, revealing sharp, tiny teeth. "That's Avic Kleets!"

"You know him, then," said Europa.

Vrudd nodded. "He's a hitman. We've brought him in several times on suspicion of murder, but we've never been able to pin anything on him. Guy has ice water in his veins. We interrogated him for hours and he never said a word."

"Who does he work for?" asked Firefox.

"We suspect he's connected with Neroth Skido, otherwise known as Blackbeak."

Europa's eyes widened. "Blackbeak is a big man in Nexasho's criminal underworld!"

"And getting bigger. A number of his rivals have turned up dead over the past few months."

"How were they killed?" Firefox asked.

"The murders were remarkable for their savagery," said Vrudd. "The victims' throats were torn out and their bodies drained of blood."

Firefox glanced at Europa. "Sounds like a nos."

"You think Cyacit and Sparks were behind them?" Vrudd asked.

"It seems unlikely," said Europa. "If they were working as assassins for Blackbeak, they would hardly have been living in the place they were, nor would they require regular jobs. And Blackbeak would certainly keep them supplied with blood, so they would not have to hunt for it."

Firefox nodded. "And when they got in trouble, they wouldn't hide out in some waterfront shack. They'd go straight to him."

Vrudd looked puzzled. "Waterfront shack?"

"Yes," said Europa. "A friend of ours tracked them to a waterfront shack under Pier 12, from which Kleets and a gorilla nos abducted them. You will find the body of a young cat in Shack 23. He was named Mowett, and he worked for the Tribune. Kleets killed him."

"And who exactly is this friend of yours?" asked Vrudd.

"Keref Zibaeri, First Officer on the Delphinia," Europa replied.

"Ah, your boyfriend," said Vrudd. "I'd like to have a talk with him."

Europa's mouth tightened. "Unfortunately, he was abducted as well."

Vrudd blinked. "Then how do you know all this?"

"Nebus Zemake told us," said Firefox.

"That sleazy reporter? I wouldn't believe him if he told me the sky was blue!"

"And you would be wise not to," said Europa. "But one cannot lie to a telepath. The image of Kleets I showed you came from his mind."

"And what about this gorilla nos you mentioned?"

"I do not know who he is or where he came from," said Europa. "He is not from the Delphinia. There were no gorillas among the nos there."

"Do you have an image of him?" Vrudd asked.

"Sadly, I neglected to obtain one. My mind was . . . preoccupied."

"I'm not surprised," said Vrudd. "I doubt it would help much anyway." He pressed a button on his desk intercom. "Ajoa? Would you come in here, please?" A moment later, the door to the office opened and a female aoudad came in, wearing a yellow blouse and a green pleated skirt, a shaggy beard on her throat, her horns curving first back and then forward and inward. "This is Lt. Ajoa Furith," Vrudd said. "She's been investigating Blackbeak's organization. If there's any chance of finding out where Zibaeri, Cyacit, and Sparks were taken, it's with her."

Firefox and Europa both nodded to Furith. "Hello, Lieutenant," Europa said.

Furith smiled at them. "Honored to be working with you both. Let's go into my office and talk."

As they left, Vrudd added, "Oh, and I'll send some uniforms to recover Mowett's body."

"Thank you, Commissioner," said Europa.

The quagga security guard in the lobby of Heroes Headquarters glanced up from her magazine as the revolving door began to turn for the second time in less than an hour. Things certainly were busy tonight, which was doubly unusual considering how late it was and how fierce the storm blowing outside was. Through the door came, in quick succession, a marten in a black coat and hat; a gorilla, also in a black coat and hat; a hedgehog in a white dress shirt and brown trousers, both soaking wet; and, finally and most surprisingly, a squirrel who was both soaking wet and completely naked, his russet fur plastered against his stocky, muscular body, his tail hanging dripping behind him like a wet flag. In his right hand, he held an ornate golden scepter with a glowing green gem at one end.

As the quagga stood up and opened her mouth to speak, the squirrel aimed the scepter at her. A bolt of green light shot from the gem, striking her in the chest and blasting straight through her, painting the wall behind her with her blood. She slumped forward over her desk, eyes blank and empty.

"Rondo, open that door," Ortrum said, as he walked up to the dead security guard. He dipped a finger in the blood spreading across her desk and stuck it in his mouth, making a pleased, contented sound, as if he were tasting honey. The gorilla plodded up to the steel door, raised his massive black fists, and smashed them against it, producing a metallic clang that caused the other three to wince and cover their ears. Two deep dents were left behind in the door when he withdrew his fists. He pounded twice more, and the door collapsed inward, clattering on the floor with a thunderously loud noise. Rondo moved into the corridor beyond, Sparks and Ortrum following, with Kleets bringing up the rear.

In the conference room, Slash, Volthawk, Ken-Jo, Digby, and Dr. Teshobi all started as the warning alarm went off concurrently with the enormous crash of Rondo's fists striking the outer door, while Zemake remained slumped in his chair, unconscious. Volthawk ran to the security console to check the closed-circuit television screens. "We've got incoming!" he shouted. "A gorilla, a hedgehog, a marten, and a squirrel!"

"G-g-guard?" asked Slash.

"Dead," said Volthawk, over a second crash. "The squirrel's naked and holding some kind of wand."

Ken-Jo ran to the console and peered at the screen. "It's Ortrum! And he has the Eye!"

"So, that explains the gorilla!" said Teshobi. "He's using it to create new nos!"

"He could raise an army that way!" said Digby.

Slash pointed at Digby and Teshobi, then at Zemake, then at a nearby elevator. The platypus picked up the duck in a fireman's carry as Teshobi ran to the elevator. "Come with me!" the beaver said. There was a third crash followed by a loud boom as the outer security door gave way.

"The defense system will flood the corridor with sleep gas automatically," said Volthawk.

Ken-Jo shook his head. "That will not have any effect on nos!" He tapped his wrist communicator. "Firefox! Europa! Return to Heroes Headquarters immediately! We are under attack by nos led by Ortrum, and he has the Eye!"

Slash donned his titanium steel fighting claws and moved up to stand a dozen feet from the inner door, motioning for Volthawk and Ken-Jo to get behind him. The hawk and the armadillo moved to stand just behind the green boar, Ken-Jo drawing his sword while Volthawk crackled with electricity, and the three Heroes waited silently for the invaders to breach the inner door.

In Ajoa Furith's office, the aoudad was in the process of describing the structure and assets of Blackbeak's criminal empire to Europa and Firefox when the two Heroes' wrist communicators buzzed with an emergency signal. They both switched them on and heard Ken-Jo's urgent message. The panda and the fox looked at each other, then at Furith.

"We have to go," said Europa, tightly.

Furith nodded. "Of course! I'll inform the Commissioner!"

Firefox ran to the window, threw it open, and took Europa by the hand, and they flew off together into the stormy night.

Slash, Volthawk, and Ken-Jo stood facing the inner door, tense and poised for action. There was a tremendous impact that made their ears ring, and the steel door bulged outward. Then a second, and a third, and the door fell forward, hitting the floor with a loud, dull thud. Before them stood Rondo, eyes blazing like hot coals beneath his hat, fangs extending down from his simian muzzle.

Ken-Jo charged, his sword raised above his head, and hacked into the gorilla's chest. There was no spray of blood, and the ape gave no indication that he even felt it. Slash plunged his claws into Rondo's chest a second later, achieving exactly the same result. Then there was a sound like a thousand sheets of paper tearing as a bolt of lightning flew from Volthawk's outstretched hands, striking Rondo dead center and burning a smoking hole in his chest while flooding the room with the choking reek of ozone. The gorilla swatted out the flames on his burning shirt, then swung a treetrunk arm, striking Ken-Jo and sending him flying across the room. The armadillo twisted in midair, striking the wall feet first, and bounded off, landing in a crouch and glaring at his opponent.

A second later, Sparks came running up from behind Rondo, fangs bared, eyes blazing crimson, and threw a punch at Slash. The boar took it, grunting, and struck back with a claw, three razor-sharp titanium blades cutting into the little hedgehog's chest and shredding his shirt. Sparks looked down at the wound in surprise. Had he still been alive, it would have been instantly fatal. While he felt no pain, he'd never been injured this badly since becoming a nos, and unlike Slash, he wasn't a trained fighter. He was just a guy who liked radios. He swallowed, hesitating. Then a bolt of green light hit Slash in the chest, knocking him away. The hedgehog turned to see Ortrum scowling at him.

"Make yourself useful, Sparks!" the squirrel snarled. Then he turned and fired another bolt at Ken-Jo as the armadillo charged at Rondo, knocking him back again, though not hurting him, as he was presently invulnerable. Rondo roared and barreled into Ken-Jo, pounding on him with his huge fists.

Sparks turned to Volthawk and saw that the bird was building up another big lightning bolt, fingers of electricity snaking across his body, his hands aimed at Ortrum. The hedgehog grinned. Electricity was something he understood well. He seized the edge of the steel door Rondo had caved in. It must have weighed half a ton, but he could manage that. Holding the door before him like a shield, he moved to block Volthawk's shot at Ortrum, carefully keeping the bottom edge in contact with the floor. The hawk discharged his lightning bolt, but the electricity flowed through the steel door and into the floor, where it dissipated harmlessly. Volthawk cursed, and then his eyes widened behind his goggles as Sparks lifted the heavy steel door above his head and hurled it at him. The bird screeched as it struck, knocking him down and pinning him beneath it.

Meanwhile, Slash charged at Ortrum. The squirrel fired at him with the Eye of Destiny, and the boar nimbly dodged the bolt and seized the Eye with both hands, trying to wrench it away. Ortrum snarled as they struggled for control of the scepter, their strengths roughly equal. The squirrel lunged with his fangs, trying to bury them in Slash's neck, only to discover that the boar's skin was impossible to pierce. Belatedly, he remembered reading somewhere that Slash had been biochemically enhanced to increase his strength and toughness, though the process had also turned him green and impaired his ability to speak.

Sparks walked toward Volthawk, pulling off what was left of his shirt as he grinned down at him. "You'll make a fine nos," the hedgehog said, crimson eyes blazing as he licked his fangs.

Volthawk struggled beneath the heavy steel door, barely able to breathe. The insulated costume he wore that prevented him from accidentally electrocuting people had cushioned the impact somewhat, preventing his frail avian body from being crushed, but he was still in considerable pain and also virtually helpless, his arms pinned beneath the door. "Touch me and I'll fry you like an egg!" he gasped.

Sparks chuckled. "With this big metal door on top of you? No, I don't think so. I'm an electrical engineer, boy, and electricity always follows the path of least resistance." He jumped atop the door, making Volthawk groan as the hedgehog's additional weight pressed down on him, and lowered his fangs to the bird's feathered throat as Volthawk squirmed and cried out desperately for help.

Realizing his friend's peril, Slash hurled Ortrum away from him, the squirrel still holding the Eye, and ran toward Volthawk, barreling into Sparks and sending the hedgehog skidding across the floor. The boar grabbed the edge of the door and heaved it off Volthawk, freeing him. "Y-y-you h-h-hurt?" he asked.

"I'll live," the bird wheezed. "Thanks, buddy!"

Slash nodded, and then saw that Rondo had Ken-Jo pinned to the wall. The armadillo was invulnerable, but his strength was no match for the gorilla's, and his invulnerablity wouldn't last long. "H-h-help K-k-ken-Jo," he said. Volthawk nodded, and Slash looked around for Ortrum, only to find that the squirrel had disappeared. He frowned, furrowing his brow.

Ken-Jo strained uselessly against Rondo's grip, the gorilla holding him firmly and keeping his sword arm pinned. Rondo tried to bite Ken-Jo's neck but met with no more success than Ortrum had had with Slash. Then he jerked as a bolt of lightning hit him from behind, burning a hole in his back and setting his coat ablaze. Ken-Jo managed to get his sword arm free and hacked, cutting through the gorilla's left arm, which fell to the floor with a thud. Rondo swatted the armadillo away with his right arm and whirled on Volthawk. He bellowed with rage, eyes glowing crimson, and charged.

Volthawk backed away, firing bolt after bolt as the huge gorilla bore down on him like a locomotive, leaving a trail of smoke behind him, his massive right arm raised to strike. Nothing the hawk threw at him was even slowing him down. Volthawk looked around frantically for Slash, but the boar was gone. He looked up and swallowed as death loomed above him in the form of a one-armed gorilla, flames rising behind him, eyes burning, fangs gleaming. Then, those eyes and fangs separated from the rest of him as a bright silver arc sliced through Rondo's neck. The gorilla's head thudded to the floor and rolled toward Volthawk, nudging one of the bird's boots, as Rondo's body slumped forward and fell, the flames on his back slowly spreading. Ken-Jo landed in a crouch beside the burning corpse and stood up, sword shining in his clawed hand.

"Thanks!" said Volthawk, breathing a sigh of relief, which hurt like hell.

"Do not mention it," Ken-Jo replied. Then he looked around. The conference room was empty save for themselves. "Where has everyone gone?"

Volthawk looked around as well. "I don't know. Slash was just here a minute ago." He lifted his wrist communicator to call him, then frowned. Dr. Teshobi had specially insulated it so his powers wouldn't short it out, but that hadn't kept it from being smashed when Sparks had thrown that door at him. "My communicator's busted. How's yours?"

Ken-Jo looked down at his wrist. "That gorilla destroyed mine as well. Teshobi really needs to make them stronger."

"Well, there's only so much punishment vacuum tubes can take," said Volthawk.

Ken-Jo nodded. "So, what now?"

Volthawk thought for a moment. "Ortrum had to have a reason for coming here. It wasn't just to fight us. There's something he wants. But he already has the Eye of Destiny, so what could it be?"

Ken-Jo's small eyes widened. "Ba-vast's ring!"

Volthawk gasped. "Then he's headed for the vault! Come on!"

They ran out of the room while Rondo's body continued to burn. Once they had gone, Sparks crawled out from under the conference table, where Slash had knocked him, and stood up. He gazed at Rondo's burning corpse for a moment, watching the flames slowly consume it. He didn't care about Ortrum's plan to resurrect Ba-vast. In fact, there was really only one thing he did care about. He turned and ran back toward the lobby.

Kialo Ortrum ran down the hallway from the conference room, his claws clicking on the black-and-white tiled floor, his tail streaming behind him, the Eye of Destiny clutched in his right hand. Avic Kleets stood ahead of him before the elevator, having slipped through the conference room unnoticed during the battle.

"The elevator's locked at the basement level," said the marten, standing before the folding metal lattice door.

"No problem," said Ortrum, heaving the door open. Before them, the elevator cable stretched down the shaft into darkness.

"So, how are we getting down there?" Kleets asked.

The squirrel grinned, huge eyes glowing scarlet, fangs gleaming. "We climb down."

The marten blinked. "It's eight stories!"

Ortrum shrugged his furry shoulders. "So what? I'm a squirrel; you're a marten. Our ancestors could do this with their eyes closed!"

"The last time I was in a tree, I was six years old! And I fell and broke my arm!"

Ortrum smirked. "Coward!" Putting the Eye in his mouth, he leaped into the shaft, grabbing the steel cable with his hands and feet. Then he rotated himself until his head was pointing downward, and began scurrying down the shaft.

Kleets watched the squirrel descend effortlessly, and swallowed. Proud of his reputation for having a cool head, the marten had been too embarrassed to mention that that childhood misadventure had left him with a crippling fear of heights. When traveling, he never flew; he always drove or took the train. The thought of all that space yawning beneath him filled him with terror. On top of that, while Ortrum was a nos and virtually invulnerable, Kleets was just an ordinary mortal. Trembling, he leaned out into the shaft, holding the edge of the doorway with one leather-gloved hand for support and grasping the cable with the other. It was covered with a thick layer of grease, and his grip felt perilously insecure. Then he jumped and wrapped his arms and legs around the cable, clinging to it for dear life. He began climbing down as swiftly as he dared.

Slash came running down the hall toward the elevator, and stopped in front of it. The door was open, and the indicator light showed that the elevator was at the basement level. No doubt Teshobi had locked it there when he'd gone down. He could also see that the cable was vibrating, indicating that someone was climbing down it. He briefly considered cutting the cable with his claws, but discarded that idea, as it would leave him without a way down and Ortrum probably wouldn't be harmed by the fall anyway. He jumped onto the grease-covered cable and began sliding down it.

Feeling the cable vibrate when Slash got on, Kleets looked up and saw the boar above him, his green, hairy body illuminated by the light from the doorway. The marten swallowed, his mind struggling to cut through his gnawing fear of having several stories of open elevator shaft beneath him. While he was no match for Slash physically, it was unlikely that the boar could see him in the darkness. Kleets, on the other hand, could see quite well, a gift from his nocturnal ancestors. There was a thick bundle of electrical wires running down one side of the shaft. He tore off his gloves with his teeth, wincing at the acrid petroleum taste of the grease. Taking a deep breath, he sprang at the bundle, seizing it with both hands. He experienced a moment of sheer terror as he nearly lost his grip and fell, but he managed to hold on. He watched Slash slide past, the boar failing to notice him in the dark shaft as Kleets hung there shivering.

Ortrum reached the bottom of the shaft where the elevator car sat, opened the ceiling hatch, and jumped down through it. At once, a bolt of electricity struck his chest, raising a stream of smoke from the fur there and causing his body to convulse, his jaw clenching.

"Get the Eye, Digby!" shouted Dr. Teshobi, holding what looked like a rifle with silver coils wrapped around the barrel and heavily insulated wires flowing out of the stock. The platypus nodded and charged at Ortrum, seizing the golden scepter and trying to wrest it away from him.

The squirrel narrowed his glowing red eyes as Digby very nearly succeeded in tearing the Eye loose from his grasp. He snarled, tail flicking, and forced the platypus back a step. Digby gave ground but kept his grip on the scepter, preventing Ortrum from pointing it at Teshobi.

"How can you be this strong?" Ortrum grunted. "You were like this on the island, too!"

"Call it a gift from a friend," Digby replied, smiling as he tried to move the scepter so that the head was aimed at Ortrum's face.

"Yeah, get 'em, Digby!" shouted Zemake, who was standing next to Teshobi, making punching movements with his fists. Meanwhile, the beaver could only watch anxiously, unable to fire his weapon without hitting the platypus.

Digby lifted Ortrum off his feet and slammed the squirrel against the concrete wall of Dr. Teshobi's basement laboratory. Ortrum planted one clawed foot on the platypus's chest and thrust him away, causing Digby to lose his hold on the Eye and go flying backward. Before Teshobi could fire another electrical bolt, Ortrum spun and aimed the scepter at Zemake. "Drop your weapon, Doctor!" After Teshobi did so, he added, "Now, give me Ba-vast's ring!"

The beaver shook his head. "Never. It stays locked in the vault."

Ortrum advanced, keeping the Eye trained on the terrified duck. He glanced over at Digby, who was getting to his feet. "Try anything and he's dead!" He glared at Teshobi, fangs gleaming, tail twitching. "I mean it, Doctor. Give me the ring or I'll kill him!"

Teshobi shrugged. "Kill him, kill us all. It doesn't matter. You'll not have it."

The squirrel growled and shifted his aim to Teshobi. "Fine. Then you'll die first!"

Digby took a deep breath as he prepared to charge at Ortrum. He didn't know if he could survive a blast from the Eye of Destiny, but he certainly stood a better chance than Teshobi did. Then he noticed the stocky green form of Slash drop down through the ceiling hatch of the elevator and begin stealthily creeping up on the squirrel from behind, titanium claws gleaming. Teshobi and Zemake saw him too, but kept silent.

"Last chance, Doctor," Ortrum warned, his blazing scarlet eyes and the glowing green gem in the scepter's head making his fanged face look diabolic. Then he started as his swishing tail brushed against Slash. The boar lunged, taking a swipe at Ortrum's head, but he hadn't gotten quite close enough, and his claws only scored the left side of the squirrel's face, leaving three bloodless gashes across it. Ortrum spun and fired a blast from the Eye, hitting Slash square in the chest and knocking him back. Taking advantage of the distraction, Digby barreled into Ortrum, slamming him to the floor, and once again the pair grappled for control of the Eye. Slash kipped up and ran toward them, claws raised to strike.

"Stop right there!" said a soft but firm voice, causing Slash, Digby, and Ortrum to freeze and look in its direction. Behind Teshobi now stood Avic Kleets, one hand holding his switchblade to the beaver's throat, his other arm around Teshobi's waist. "Let him go!" Kleets ordered. Digby reluctantly did so, and Ortrum got to his feet.

At that moment, Ken-Jo and Volthawk dropped down through the elevator's ceiling hatch and entered the lab. Seeing how things stood, they both halted, and Volthawk's body began crackling with electricity.

"Ah ah ah," said Ortrum, wagging a finger at the bird, and Volthawk's sparks faded. "Now, one of you gentlemen open the vault, or my associate here will cut the good doctor a new smile."

"They can't," said Teshobi through clenched teeth. "I'm the only one who knows the combination."

"You really expect me to believe that?" asked Ortrum sharply.

Teshobi shrugged. "Believe what you like. It doesn't change anything."

Ortrum snarled and aimed the Eye at Volthawk. "I'll kill your young friend here!"

Volthawk spoke up. "I wouldn't be a Hero of Zoolok if I wasn't prepared to die in the line of duty. So if you're gonna kill me, go ahead and do it."

"The boy speaks for all of us," said Ken-Jo.

Ortrum glanced at Digby and Zemake. "They aren't Heroes."

Teshobi sighed. "I already told you, it doesn't matter. You're not getting the ring."

Ortrum looked around the room, seeing the same resolve in every eye. Growling, tail twitching angrily, he stalked over to the door of the vault. It was a gleaming circle of steel twice his height. He leveled the Eye and fired a full-power blast. It didn't even scratch the surface. The squirrel screeched in frustration. "All right, fine! But I'm not leaving here empty-handed!" He turned to Kleets. "Bring the doctor!"

"Let's go, Doc," said Kleets quietly. Teshobi obeyed, and the marten began moving him toward the elevator, keeping his knife to the beaver's throat.

"Can you get him?" Ken-Jo whispered to Volthawk.

The hawk shook his head. "I haven't got a shot."

Kleets backed into the elevator, holding Teshobi before him, and Ortrum entered as well. "We'll be in touch, Heroes," the squirrel said. He pulled the folding metal lattice door closed and pressed a button, and they rose out of sight.

Instantly, Slash and Ken-Jo charged at the elevator, the armadillo pulling the door open and the boar seizing the cable beneath the car, letting it carry him upward. Ken-Jo jumped on right beneath him, and they both ascended into darkness.

Inside the car, Kleets noticed that Ortrum had pressed the top button. "Why are we heading for the roof?" he asked.

"So we can escape," the squirrel replied.

Panic began creeping up the marten's spine. "And how are we going to escape from up there?"

Ortrum looked at him and grinned, fangs gleaming. "I've been planning this for a while, Avic. I've done my homework."

"If you intend to use me as a bargaining chip," said Teshobi, "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. The Heroes won't trade the ring for me. They know I'd rather die."

Ortrum chuckled. "We'll see, Doctor." He spoke an incantation in the long-dead Elinian language, the Eye glowed brightly, and the gashes on his face healed.

The elevator car reached the roof of Heroes Headquarters, and Ortrum locked it and opened the door. Before them, on a raised platform on the glistening, rain-swept roof, sat a curious contraption. In general appearance it resembled an ordinary low-wing monoplane, but forward of the cockpit four struts rose up to form a pyramid, at the apex of which sat a large, horizontal rotor, its four blades vibrating in the wind as water dripped from them.

"What the hell is that?" asked Kleets, eyes going wide.

"I call it an autogyro," Teshobi explained. "It's like an airplane, except it can take off and land vertically." He turned to Ortrum. "And just how do you expect to fly this highly experimental aircraft?"

"I'm not going to fly it, Doctor," Ortrum replied. "You are."

Teshobi took off his rain-spattered glasses and rubbed them on the collar of his lab coat. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want to die."

"Better that than let you escape to cause more death and suffering."

Ortrum chuckled. "I'm going to escape anyway, Doctor. I'm a squirrel and a nos. I can climb down the side of this building as easily as crossing the street. But if you're not going to be of any further use to me, I have no reason to keep you alive. This way, you at least have a chance, and some chance is better than none."

Teshobi indicated Kleets with a tilt of his head. "You'd abandon your companion?"

Ortrum regarded the marten. "He's a professional. He understands."

Kleets glared back at him from beneath his hat, water dripping from the brim.

"Come on, Doctor," said Ortrum, grinning. "Don't you want to show off your amazing invention?"

Teshobi regarded the autogyro hesitantly. "It wasn't designed to be flown in such high winds."

Ortrum shrugged. "Then perhaps we'll crash and be killed, in which case your troubles will be over."

Teshobi sighed. "Very well. Undo the tethers."

Ortrum and Kleets went over to the autogyro and began untying the ropes that were holding it down, while Teshobi climbed into the cockpit and fired up the engine. Kleets's hands trembled as he worked. The thought of flying in this rickety-looking machine in the middle of a raging storm terrified him beyond words. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if he stayed, he would certainly end up taking a seat in the electric chair for the murder of that cat newsboy.

Teshobi hit a switch and the large horizontal rotor above them began to turn—slowly at first, then quickly picking up speed. At the same time, the vertical forward propeller coughed to life and began buzzing like that of a normal airplane. Kleets climbed into the passenger seat behind Teshobi and strapped himself in, while Ortrum perched on top of the fuselage just behind the marten, holding the Eye in his mouth while gripping the back edge of the cockpit with both hands, the great strength and endurance of his nos body ensuring that he would not lose his hold. The rotor sped faster and faster until it became a blur, and the autogyro rose from the pad. Immediately, a gust of wind caught it and it lurched violently, eliciting a cry of terror from Kleets. It careened sideways, tilted at a forty-five-degree angle, the rotor blades coming perilously close to the roof, until Teshobi managed to regain control and stabilize it. Ortrum laughed around the scepter in his mouth, clearly enjoying himself, his naked, furry body soaked to the skin, his tail a wet mop, while Kleets whimpered miserably.

Slash and Ken-Jo emerged from the elevator onto the roof, after climbing up through a hole that the boar had cut in the floor of the car. They stood looking up in disbelief as the autogyro hovered above them, its flimsy shape buffeted by the wind. A blast from the Eye of Destiny hit the roof in front of them, spraying gravel and causing them to back up. Fortunately, the combination of firing from a highly unstable platform and having to aim with his mouth made Ortrum a very bad shot, and the blast came nowhere near them. Unfortunately, there was nothing either of them could do but watch as the autogyro fluttered off into the stormy night.

Keref Zibaeri was roused to wakefulness by Cyacit shaking his shoulder. His black eyes blinked open as he sat with his back against the wall. "What? What's going on?" he asked.

"We have company," the blue jay replied. They both stood up and faced the steel door of their cell.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open to reveal four people. There was a lynx, an opossum, an aardvark, and a reindeer, all wearing hats and trenchcoats that were shiny and dripping wet. The lynx was rather slight, while the other three were considerably tougher-looking. Zibaeri's heart sank at the sight of the lynx. He'd been entertaining the idea that Cyacit might help him escape, but that was clearly not going to happen with a cat present.

"Gentlemen, if you'll accompany me, please?" the lynx asked politely. Cyacit came over and stood obediently beside him.

Zibaeri growled, annoyed at being kidnaped two times in the same night. "Who are you and where are you taking us?"

"All in good time, Officer Zibaeri," the lynx replied, smiling. "Come along."

Sighing, the otter left the cell, the three toughs surrounding him. They all walked down the corridor and up the stairs to the ground floor, then out of the building and into the pouring rain. There was a sedan parked in the street under a lamp. The lynx got in the back and instructed Zibaeri and Cyacit to join him, the otter first so that he would be sandwiched between the lynx and the blue jay. The aardvark took the driver's seat. With the reindeer and the opossum sitting in the front beside him, he started the car and drove off, its tires spraying water to either side.

In an alley across the street, Sparks watched from the driver's seat of Kleets's car, having stolen it from where the marten had parked it in front of Heroes Headquarters. Lacking a key hadn't been a problem for the hedgehog, who had learned how to hotwire a car during his electrician's training. He had arrived just in time to see the four men enter the building, and seeing that one was a cat, had decided it would be safer to hang back and observe. He switched on the lights of his own vehicle, fired up the engine, and began tailing the other car at a discreet distance.

Avic Kleets was trapped in a nightmare. The wind whipped the autogyro around like a kite, the rain ripping across its fabric-covered wings and fuselage like bullets from a machine gun, while the huge rotor whirled overhead. Normally calm, cool, and controlled, the marten was more terrified than he had ever been in his life, and the flimsy craft's wild pitching and rocking had already caused him to heave the contents of his stomach over the side. He sat huddled in his seat, cold and drenched to the bone, arms wrapped tight around himself, knees pulled up against his chest, his body jerking against the seat straps, as part of him prayed that the thing would just crash and end this.

"Where am I going?" Dr. Teshobi yelled over his shoulder from the cockpit.

"12th and Green!" Ortrum shouted back, briefly taking the gold scepter out his mouth.

"Do you really imagine I can tell one street from another from up here?" the beaver asked. "It's all I can do to keep us in the air!"

"I have faith in you, Doctor!" Ortrum yelled.

Teshobi scowled and reviewed his mental map of the city. The Tassock building—a skyscraper with a distinctive pointed profile—was at the intersection of 8th and Cherry. He squinted through the water droplets peppering his glasses. There it was! So, 12th would be four streets north of it, and Cherry was six streets east of Green, if memory served. He fought with the controls to urge the plane in that direction.

After several minutes of being tossed about by the wind, the autogyro arrived at the desired address. Teshobi brought it in over a mostly empty parking lot, and it touched down, bouncing a few times as he killed the engine, the propeller stopped, and the rotor began to slow. Kleets frantically unstrapped himself and scrambled out of the plane, falling to his hands and knees on the asphalt, trembling, as Ortrum hopped down to join him.

"That was fun!" Ortrum said, grinning.

Kleets glared up at him with murder in his eyes. If only the squirrel weren't already dead.

Ortrum turned to Teshobi as the beaver climbed down from the cockpit. "Excellent flying, Doctor!"

"Thank you," Teshobi replied, taking off his glasses and wiping them with a handkerchief. "I'd been meaning to make a test flight under inclement conditions. I can see several adjustments that need to be made. The rudder controls are far too sluggish, and the overall balance of the machine—"

Ortrum interrupted him. "Doctor, as fascinating as this is, I didn't bring you here for a lecture on aerodynamics."

"No," said Teshobi, putting his glasses back on. "You brought me here to turn me into a creature like yourself."

"Shall we discuss this out of the rain?" Ortrum asked, gesturing at a nearby doorway. Teshobi sighed and nodded, and they walked toward the door, Kleets following and glowering at the squirrel.

"The truth is, I haven't fully mastered the art of creating nos yet," Ortrum said as they walked. "And make no mistake, it is an art. You see, when I first began studying magic, I was like you, a child of technology. And why shouldn't I be? After all, I used to be second officer on the most advanced ship in the world. But I've learned that magic is as much a matter of emotion as of technique. Casting a spell is like painting a picture. The result depends on how much of yourself you put into it."

"Fascinating," Teshobi commented.

"Isn't it? No doubt that's why my first attempts at creating nos were failures. I could reanimate the bodies, but they were useless piles of flesh. It was as if I was applying paint to a canvas without any feeling. But, just as a painter improves with each canvas, I got better with each attempt. Rondo—the gorilla—had complete physical functionality. Still, he was only a mindless automaton. But now I have a new subject to practice on—my old shipmate, Keref Zibaeri. Hopefully, with him, I can figure out how to keep the subject's mind and memories intact before—" He stopped before the door, staring at it. It was partway open. He turned to Kleets. "Didn't you close and lock this before we left, Avic?"

The marten nodded. "I sure did, boss."

Ortrum frowned. "Then someone's been here while we were out." He pushed open the door and went inside, Teshobi and Kleets following.

They descended the stairs, Ortrum holding the Eye level before him, and entered the laboratory. Teshobi surveyed the room curiously as the squirrel checked each point of the compass. "Boss, look!" said Kleets, pointing at the floor. Several sets of wet footprints led into a side corridor. Ortrum ran, following them.

"Damn it!" he snarled. "Cyacit and Zibaeri are gone!"

"How did they escape?" Kleets asked.

"They didn't. The door to their cell is undamaged. Someone came and got them!" He narrowed his eyes at Kleets. "Did you tell Blackbeak they were here?"

The marten swallowed. "Well, yeah, wasn't I supposed to? I mean, you and he are partners, right?"

Teshobi chuckled. "It sounds as though your partnership has become problematic, Ortrum."

The squirrel growled. "We'll just have to see about that!"

Europa and Firefox arrived at Heroes Headquarters, entering through the lobby. Immediately, they saw that the security door had been broken down and the quagga security guard was lying slumped across her bloodstained desk. They both ran to the quagga, and the panda checked her pulse. "Dead," she announced bitterly.

"Something blew right through her!" Firefox observed.

Europa nodded. "No doubt the Eye of Destiny." She did a quick mental scan of the building. "I sense the minds of Slash, Volthawk, Ken-Jo, Digby, and Zemake."

"What about Dr. Teshobi?" asked Firefox.

"He is not here."

The fox spoke into her wrist communicator. "Dr. Teshobi, come in, please!"

For a moment, there was no response. Then Slash's voice came over the device. "G-g-gone," the boar said.

"What do you mean, gone?" asked Firefox anxiously.

Europa established a psychic link with Slash. Freed from his stutter in mental contact, the boar quickly explained the situation to her. "Ortrum came to get Ba-vast's ring," she told Firefox. "Fortunately, he failed, but he did kidnap Dr. Teshobi, using the autogyro."

Firefox blinked. "Can that thing even fly in a storm like this?"

"Let us hope," said Europa grimly.

As she spoke, a police car pulled up outside, siren wailing, lights flashing. Two officers—a parakeet and an okapi—rushed through the revolving door, guns drawn. The panda turned to face them. "The criminals have come and gone," she said. "Call the morgue. There has been a fatality." With that, she strode across the fallen security door, Firefox right behind her. They emerged into the conference room, and wrinkled their noses at the smell of burning flesh. Rondo's charred, headless corpse lay on the floor, smoking.

"That must be the gorilla nos Zemake mentioned," said Firefox. "At least we don't have to deal with him anymore."

Europa nodded. "Unfortunately, Ortrum can make more nos using the Eye."

They both turned as Slash and Ken-Jo entered the room. Firefox ran to the armadillo and threw her arms around his glistening, wet body, holding him tight and kissing him, and he responded in kind. Europa went over to Slash and put her hand on the boar's shoulder as he looked at her, ashamed. "I'm sure you did all you could, Slash," she said gently. The boar simply nodded, uncomforted.

A minute later, Volthawk, Digby, and Zemake joined them. Europa noted that the hawk was moving stiffly. "Are you injured, Raoim?" she asked.

"I'm all right," Volthawk replied, grimacing. "Sparks threw one of the security doors at me. Hey, where is he, anyway? He wasn't down in the lab with Ortrum and that marten."

"We have not seen him," said Europa. "He must have run off. We can deal with him later, however. Right now, we have more important things to worry about. Ortrum kidnapped Dr. Teshobi and escaped in the autogyro."

"The what?" Digby asked.

Volthawk turned to the platypus. "It's an experimental aircraft that can take off and land vertically. It was parked on the roof."

"Then how are you going to find him?" asked Digby. "A machine like that could land anywhere!"

"Finding him should not pose a problem," said Europa. "Dr. Teshobi wears a wrist communicator, and they all contain transponders, enabling the interferometer to locate them." She went over to a device on one side of the room and began fiddling with some knobs.

As she worked, Slash tapped Digby on the shoulder. "H-h-how a-a-are y-y-you s-s-so s-s-strong?" the boar asked him.

"Yeah," said Zemake. "Ortrum asked you about that too. You said something about it being a gift from a friend."

The platypus hesitated, then reached into his jacket, took out his cigarette case, opened it, and removed a glass vial containing a clear liquid. "It's because of this."

The duck squinted at it. "What is it?"

"A special chemical. When I drink it, it boosts my strength and stamina for a few hours. I also heal fast."

Zemake stared at him. "Where does it come from?"

"Like I said, it's a gift from a friend. That's all I'm gonna say." He put the vial back in the case.

"I have a fix on Dr. Teshobi's position," Europa announced. "He does not appear to be moving."

Firefox came over to her. "Do you suppose they could have crashed?" she asked anxiously.

"Unlikely. If they had crashed, his communicator would almost certainly have been destroyed, in which case we would not be getting a signal from it." The interferometer projected a map of Nexasho on a screen, with a bright dot showing Teshobi's location. "A building at the intersection of 12th and Green."

"I'll warm up the Ark!" said Volthawk, dashing out of the room.

"Mind if I come along?" Digby asked Europa.

"At this point, I would not refuse any help," the panda replied. As she spoke, the two police officers entered the conference room from the lobby. "Officers, this man witnessed a murder," she said, indicating Zemake. "I imagine you will want to take his statement."

"Yeah," said Zemake, sighing. Then he looked at Europa. "Promise me you'll nail the scum who killed Mowett."

"We shall do our best, Nebus, " Europa said. With that, she turned and headed for the garage, the others following her.

Simparion Tower was a sixty-story skyscraper, the second tallest in Nexasho after the Tassock building a few blocks away. While it was primarily an office building, its top floor boasted a luxurious penthouse apartment, complete with a landscaped terrace, fountain, and swimming pool. It had recently gained a new occupant after the sudden and violent death of the previous one.

Keref Zibaeri looked up at the soaring structure as he stood on the rain-soaked sidewalk at its foot with Cyacit, the lynx, the aardvark, the opossum, and the reindeer, beside the car that had brought them there. The lynx led the group through one of the revolving front doors, through the marble lobby, and into an elevator, which was open and waiting for them. Once they were all inside, he removed a key from his coat pocket and inserted it into a slot beside a letter P at the top of the line of fifty-nine lighted buttons. The doors slid shut, and all in the elevator felt their stomachs sink into their groins as it rocketed upward.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a short corridor. There was a door on each side and one at the far end. One side of the corridor was made up of glass panes looking out on the terrace and the swimming pool. The lynx walked toward the door at the far end, opened it, and went through. The others followed him, entering a large room with a carpeted floor, wood-paneled walls, and a fireplace in which a log crackled as it burned. There was a large, ornately carved wooden desk with four high-backed chairs in front of it. Behind the desk sat a fat raven in a white suit, smoking a cigar, a red carnation in the lapel of his jacket. "I'd say 'good evening,' gentlemen," the raven said in a cracked, growling voice as he glanced at a rain-streaked window. "but it doesn't much look like one." Eyes like polished onyx focused on Cyacit. "What happened to your face?"

"Ortrum happened to it," the blue jay replied sourly.

"Does it hurt?"

Cyacit shook his head. "Nos don't feel pain."

"Lucky for you. Do you know who I am?"

"I imagine you're the partner Ortrum mentioned," said Zibaeri, "the one he's been committing murders for."

The raven nodded. "My name is Neroth Skido, but I'm better known as Blackbeak." He gestured at the lynx. "This is Vergil Talbar, my financial advisor. I've had him and my boys liberate you because I think we may be able to help each other."

Zibaeri smirked. "Funny, for someone who's been liberated, I don't feel particularly free."

"Would you rather be back in that cell?" Blackbeak asked.

"No, I'd rather be home in bed."

"With a certain panda, no doubt."

The otter shrugged. "Better her than you."

"What do you want from us?" asked Cyacit.

Blackbeak rose and began moving toward them, walking with the aid of a cane topped with a brass handle. "I've begun to, shall we say, reassess my partnership with Kialo Ortrum. I'm starting to suspect he may be a little crazy."

"You think so?" Zibaeri deadpanned.

"Did you know he attacked Heroes of Zoolok headquarters tonight?" Blackbeak asked.

The otter and the blue jay stared at him. "What?" Zibaeri asked, astonished.

The raven glanced at Cyacit. "Your hedgehog buddy was with him. The question is, why would he do something like that? Any ideas?"

Zibaeri and Cyacit looked at each other. "Ba-vast's ring!" said Zibaeri, his eyes wide.

Cyacit nodded. "That has to be it."

"Whose ring?" asked Blackbeak, looking confused.

"Didn't Ortrum ever tell you how he came to be the way he is?" Zibaeri asked.

Blackbeak shook his head. "No, he never talked about it, and I never asked. I assumed he was just another super-powered freak."

"Ba-vast was a goddess who ruled the Elin river valley thousands of years ago," Cyacit explained. "Her spirit is contained in a ring. If any cat puts it on, her spirit possesses them. That happened to the archaeologist who found it, Dr. Mari Kallia. She raised me, Sparks, and Ortrum from the dead, turning us into nos, before the Heroes of Zoolok defeated her."

"Are you serious?" Talbar asked disdainfully before turning to Blackbeak. "Boss, this sounds like the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard!"

"Normally, I'd agree with you, Vergil," said Blackbeak, "except that we've got the evidence it's true standing right in front of us." He gestured at Cyacit.

"Ortrum's been playing you for a sap, Blackbeak," Zibaeri said. "He's been killing for you so you'd supply him with the resources he needed to create new nos soldiers to help him get Ba-vast's ring. That's all he's ever really cared about. And if he's succeeded, you can kiss the world you know goodbye. You'll become her slave, just like everyone else who isn't a cat.""

Cyacit shook his head. "Ba-vast isn't back yet."

The otter looked at him. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm a nos. I felt it when she died. It stands to reason I would have felt it if she was alive again."

"Well, even if Ortrum didn't get the ring," said Blackbeak, "he did kidnap the Heroes' science guy, Dr. Teshobi. The cops have an APB out on him."

"You think he might come here?" asked Talbar, looking nervous.

"I'd say it's pretty likely," Blackbeak replied, "once he figures out it was me who took these two away from him." Then he smiled at the lynx. "Fortunately, he can't come near me with you around."

"You're forgetting something, Blackbeak," said Zibaeri.

"What's that?" the raven asked.

The otter never got a chance to reply. At that moment, a bolt of green light shot through a window, shattering it, and struck Talbar, tearing through the lynx's chest and spraying crimson across the carpet behind him. Ortrum sprang into the broken window and crouched there with his fur dripping wet, the Eye of Destiny in his clawed hands, eyes glowing scarlet, fangs descending from his muzzle. "Double cross me, will you, Blackbeak?" he asked, flicking his tail. "After all I've done for you? That's just rude!"

"Kill him!" Blackbeak screeched. The three thugs drew pistols and opened fire. Several bullets struck the squirrel, but he took no notice of them. He pointed the Eye at the reindeer and fired, scattering venison across the room. Their guns empty, the opossum and the aardvark broke and ran for the door. Ortrum ignored them, jumping down from the window and striding toward Blackbeak, who was backing away in terror.

"Stay away from me!" the raven cried, pulling out a pistol and firing shot after shot into the squirrel's furry chest. Ortrum continued to advance, his muzzle split in a fiendish grin.

Out in the corridor, the opossum and the aardvark ran to the elevator, only to find to their dismay that it wasn't at the penthouse level. The indicator lights showed that it was at the 23rd floor and ascending. They waited impatiently, casting nervous glances back at the door to Blackbeak's office and hitting the call button over and over in a futile effort to make the elevator come sooner.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. In it stood Avic Kleets and Dr. Teshobi. The marten blinked in surprise upon seeing the panic on the faces of the opossum and the aardvark. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Ortrum killed Vergil and Rolf, and he's gonna kill Blackbeak!" the aardvark cried.

"Get outta the way!" shouted the opossum, pushing Kleets aside and hitting the button for the lobby. The marten hesitated a moment, then grabbed Teshobi's arm and stepped out of the elevator, pulling the beaver along with him as the doors slid shut behind them.

"Are you certain it's wise to stay?" Teshobi asked.

Kleets shrugged. "I haven't done anything to piss him off. Besides, it sounds like Ortrum might be running things soon."

Teshobi smirked. "Your loyalty is awe-inspiring."

The marten regarded him indifferently. "I'm only loyal to one person: me."

The beaver nodded. "It's nice to know you can be trusted."

"Trust is for suckers. Come on."

He led Teshobi toward Blackbeak's office.

"Stop him!" Zibaeri urged Cyacit as Ortrum advanced on Blackbeak.

"How?" the blue jay asked. "I couldn't beat him on the Delphinia with Sparks helping me, and he didn't have the Eye then!"

"You can't just stand by and let him commit murder!"

Ortrum chuckled. "Sure he can. He's a coward. Always was. I never understood what Roazor saw in him. She was twice the man he'll ever be."

Blackbeak had dropped his spent pistol and backed up against the wall, trembling with fear. Ortrum seized the collar of Blackbeak's jacket and lifted his wide form up the wall with one hand, the raven's black, clawed feet tearing frantically at the squirrel's legs. "You and your petty ambitions," Ortrum sneered. "Biggest crime boss in Nexasho. You're nothing compared to me! Just a cheap crook! I'm the herald of a goddess!" His fanged mouth opened wide before Blackbeak's feathered throat.

Cyacit charged, tackling the squirrel and bearing him and Blackbeak to the carpet. Ortrum let go of the raven and turned his attention to Cyacit, slugging the blue jay across his face as Blackbeak struggled to his feet and ran for the door. "You don't learn, do you, Cadet?" Ortrum snarled, punching him again. "Last time, I broke your face. This time, I'll break every bone in your body! Won't that be a fun way to spend eternity?"

The blue jay writhed as the squirrel's fist came down on his right arm, fracturing it.

In the corridor, Kleets and Teshobi stopped as Blackbeak came pounding out of his office. The raven barged past them without a word, then stopped before the elevator. "Why is it going down?" he demanded breathlessly.

"Cerb and Pogg are using it," Kleets replied calmly.

Blackbeak screeched and pounded on the doors in frustration. Then he looked through the glass panes at the rooftop terrace, and an idea formed in his mind. He opened the glass door. "Quick, onto the terrace!"

"What for?" Kleets asked.

"Ortrum will assume it's me in the elevator! He won't look for me out there!"

Teshobi nodded. "A clever idea."

"I have a better one," said Kleets. He drew his switchblade and thrust it into Blackbeak's chest. Blood drooling from his beak, the raven gasped, fell to his knees, and pitched over like a sack of potatoes.

"Good heavens!" Teshobi gasped, staring down at Blackbeak's corpse, then at Kleets. "How could you do such a thing?"

The marten shrugged and gave a little smile. "Practice."

Zibarei winced as Ortrum slammed his fist into Cyacit again and again, making bone after bone in the bird's fragile avian skeleton snap. He desperately wanted to help, but he had no idea what he could do against a nos. Then he noticed someone standing in the broken window. It was Sparks, dripping wet and wearing only trousers, several deep gashes across his bare chest. The hedgehog growled when he saw Cyacit being pulverized, and his beady eyes began glowing bright red as fangs extended from his pointed snout. He leaped through the air, sailing across the room and landing on Ortrum's back, and then sank his fangs into the squirrel's throat. Ortrum gurgled and dropped the Eye, reaching around behind him with both hands and clawing at Sparks. Seeing the Eye lying on the carpet untended, Zibaeri darted in and grabbed it just as Ortrum tore Sparks off him and hurled the hedgehog against a wall. Sparks struck with a loud, crunching thud and slid to the floor.

As Ortrum got to his feet, Zibaeri frantically tried to remember the incantation the Contessa Batori had taught him that activated the Eye of Destiny's blast power. The squirrel turned and glared at him, hissing, his vocal cords cut by Sparks's fangs. The otter tried several variations, shouting them out and backing away as Ortrum advanced. As the squirrel's clawed hands reached for him, the Eye fired, a bolt of green light hitting Ortrum in the chest and knocking him back across the room. Zibaeri turned and ran from the office.

Entering the corridor that led to the elevator, he stopped when he saw Kleets, Blackbeak's dead body, and a beaver in a lab coat. While he'd never seen a photo of Dr. Teshobi, as the scientist tended to shun the limelight, he remembered Blackbeak saying that Ortrum had kidnapped the Heroes's science advisor, and Europa had mentioned that he was a beaver. "Dr. Teshobi?" Zibaeri asked.

Teshobi nodded. "Yes, that's correct, Officer Zibaeri. Ah, you have the Eye. A pity the elevator is in use."

Zibaeri pointed the Eye at Kleets. "Let him go!"

Kleets moved behind Teshobi and held his knife to the beaver's throat. "Drop the Eye."

"Don't listen to him!" Teshobi shouted. "They need me alive!"

Zibaeri heard movement behind him and spun to see Ortrum standing in the doorway to the office, crimson eyes blazing with hate. The otter fired a blast from the Eye at the squirrel, forcing him to duck aside, and then ran out onto the terrace through the door Blackbeak had opened, into the wind and rain. Ortrum hissed and followed.

"You okay, Sparks?" Cyacit asked in a weak, wheezing voice, lying spread-eagled on his back on the floor of Blackbeak's office.

"No," the hedgehog replied, lying in a heap against the wall. "I think my back is broken. I can't move my legs. You?"

"I can't move at all," Cyacit said. "Ortrum really did a number on me this time. Nothing works anymore."

Sparks sighed. "Well, I guess we've had it, then."

"Eh, we've both died once already. Second time shouldn't be too bad."

Sparks nodded. "At least there won't be any pain this time." He dragged himself over to Cyacit, digging his claws into the carpet. He could see that the blue jay's beak was fractured, making speech difficult. "I'm sorry things turned out this way, Cyacit. It's all my fault. Thanks for putting up with me. I know I'm not the best company."

Cyacit chuckled hoarsely. "I haven't exactly been a bundle of joy myself, with all my bitching and moaning. But you came back for me, and you didn't have to. I appreciate that."

"What else was I gonna do?" Sparks asked. "You're the only friend I have." He dragged himself up beside Cyacit and threw an arm across the blue jay's chest. Cyacit slowly managed to turn his head, and laid his broken beak against the hedgehog's shoulder.

They lay there together, awaiting whatever fate had in store for them.

In the lobby, the elevator doors slid open and Cerb and Pogg burst out, only to stop dead in their tracks. Before them stood Europa, Slash, Firefox, Volthawk, Ken-Jo, Digby Rasklin, Nebus Zemake, Commissioner Vrudd, Lt. Ajoa Furith, and a dozen uniformed police officers, including Officer Hopanga. The aardvark and the opossum looked at each other and raised their hands.

"Smile, boys!" said Zemake, holding a camera he'd borrowed from the police forensics lab. The pair flinched as the flash went off. Then they found themselves surrounded by police, pressed against a wall, and frisked.

"Where is Dr. Teshobi?" Europa demanded, striding up to them.

"Who?" Cerb asked, blinking the spots from his eyes.

"He's a beaver," Volthawk told the aardvark, "probably wearing glasses and a lab coat."

"Oh, he's up in the penthouse. Avic Kleets is with him."

"And Keref Zibaeri?" Europa pressed.

"He's up there, too."

"Look, we didn't do nothin'!" Pogg protested. "We was just tryin' to get away! Ortrum's gone crazy! He's killin' everyone with that magic wand o' his!"

Cerb nodded. "If you wanna save your friends, you better get up there, pronto!" He took a key from his coat pocket and held it out to Europa. "This'll get you to the penthouse."

Europa snatched the key from the aardvark's hand and whirled to face Firefox. "Go to the roof, fast! Take Slash with you!"

Firefox nodded, and she and Slash ran back out through a revolving door. On the sidewalk, the fox burst into flames and rocketed skyward, carrying the boar with her. Europa entered the elevator, along with Volthawk, Ken-Jo, Digby, Vrudd, Furith, Hopanga, and three more of the police officers. Vrudd pointed a long-clawed finger at Cerb and Pogg. "Hold those two!" he ordered the remaining officers. Zemake snapped another picture just before the elevator doors slid shut.

"Mind if I smoke?" Dr. Teshobi asked Avic Kleets as they stood together in the corridor before the elevator.

"Be my guest," the marten replied. "Just don't try anything funny, unless you want to end up like him." He gestured down at Blackbeak's corpse.

"Certainly not," said Teshobi, removing a pipe from a pocket of his lab coat and filling it with tobacco from a small pouch. "Do you like killing, Avic?"

Kleets shrugged. "I don't like it or dislike it. It's just something I do."

Teshobi nodded as he struck a match and lit his pipe. "You're quite good at it." He puffed on his pipe, a plume of smoke rising from it. "Ortrum said you were a professional. What did he mean by that, I wonder?"

"A professional is someone who does his job without complaining," said Kleets, "and doesn't take things personally."

Teshobi nodded again. "I'm something of a professional man myself. I have degrees in biology, chemistry, physics, medicine, engineering . . ."

"Yeah, I heard you were a smart guy," Kleets said.

"And I don't take it personally that you kidnaped me and held me hostage. Twice."

Kleets smiled. "You're a good sport, Doc."

Teshobi continued puffing away on his pipe, his head now wreathed in smoke. "However, unlike you, I am committed to the preservation and betterment of life. Therefore, I cannot permit Ortrum to win."

Kleets chuckled softly. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Teshobi smiled back. "I've already done it."

Kleets blinked, realizing that his vision was becoming blurry. He drew his switchblade and flicked it open, but there were now four Dr. Teshobis standing before him, and he couldn't seem to focus on any of them. He tried to take a step forward and stab one, but his feet felt like lead, and his arm was as limp as an overcooked noodle.

The Teshobis spoke, their voices sounding distorted and distant, as if they were speaking from the bottom of a very deep well. "That tobacco was laced with a chemical that has a soporific effect on the nervous system when inhaled, unless the person breathing it has taken an antidote in the form of a small tablet that can be slipped into the mouth, usually without anyone noticing."

Kleets groaned, the switchblade falling from his nerveless fingers to clatter on the floor. A moment later, the marten followed it. Teshobi removed his pipe from his mouth, emptied its contents into a sand-filled ash stand beside the elevator, and covered them up.

"Nothing personal," the beaver said.

Keref Zibaeri reflected bitterly that if one were trying to avoid being seen, wearing a white uniform and holding a scepter with a glowing green gem in the head was not the best way of doing it. He tucked the Eye of Destiny under his jacket to hide the glow as he crouched behind a large planter containing several small trees. Rain beating down on him as water dripped from his whiskers, he cautiously peeked around the edge of the planter, trying to spot his hunter.

Ortrum was stalking through the rooftop garden, the squirrel's lack of clothing making him look as if he'd gone completely feral, his eyes burning bright red, his fangs gleaming. His narrow head turned slowly as he scanned the garden for any sign of his prey. Above him, the sky was periodically split by forks of lightning that briefly lit up the whole garden, accompanied by crashes of thunder. Zibaeri knew squirrels couldn't see well in the dark, but he didn't know if nos could. Erring on the side of caution, he backed away from the edge of the planter and sought a route that would take him back to the penthouse without exposing him. His only chance was to get to the elevator while Ortrum was still searching for him. Of course, there would still be Kleets to deal with, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

The otter picked his way through the trees and shrubs of the rooftop garden, running hunched over, trying to stay behind what cover there was. Ortrum was taking no chances, though, making sure he always had the door to the penthouse in his line of sight. To make matters worse, the hallway behind the glass panels looking out on the garden was brightly lit inside, so anyone trying to leave would be silhouetted against it. There was simply no way of getting to the elevator without Ortrum seeing him.

Zibaeri decided to use Ortrum's desire to keep the door in sight to his advantage. He would circle the raised penthouse apartment and come around the other side. Ortrum would never see him with the apartment between them. If nothing else, it would buy him some time. He began moving in that direction.

Once he was out of Ortrum's sight, Zibaeri abandoned stealth and ran as fast as he could, his webbed feet smacking the wet concrete. As he crossed an open area beside the swimming pool, a lightning bolt tore across the night-darkened sky, illuminating the entire roof. To his horror, he saw Ortrum's glistening, red-furred form crouched atop the roof of the apartment like a gargoyle, his scarlet eyes looking straight at him.

"I am really falling in love with today!" Zibaeri cried. He pulled the Eye out from under his jacket and fired as Ortrum jumped down to the terrace. The bolt missed, striking the limestone wall of the apartment and punching a hole in it. The otter fled around the swimming pool as the squirrel charged toward him. From where they were, there was nowhere to go but sixty stories straight down. That might not be such a bad choice, Zibaeri thought as he ran.

As he approached the edge of the roof, trying hard not to think about what he was doing, a flaming figure rose into view, bathing the area in a warm glow. Firefox hovered in the air above him, holding Slash by his armpits. The green boar jumped down, landing in a crouch between Ortrum and Zibaeri, his titanium claws reflecting Firefox's glow. Ortrum hissed and lunged at Slash, and the boar thrust his claws into the squirrel's furry chest. Ortrum took no notice, seizing Slash in a clinch and hurling them both into the swimming pool.

Firefox flew down and landed beside Zibaeri. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I've been better," the otter replied, panting. He looked down at the two shapes writhing beneath the churning water. It was difficult to make anything out. "Do you think he can take him?"

"Slash is the best fighter I've ever known," Firefox replied, but there was a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"Only he needs to breathe, and Ortrum doesn't!" Zibaeri pointed out. Firefox nodded, looking concerned.

The elevator stopped and dinged, the doors to the penthouse opened, and Europa and the other occupants emerged. Dr. Teshobi was standing in the hallway with the prone forms of Avic Kleets and Blackbeak. The beaver broke into a bucktoothed grin. "Ah, there you are! I was just about to call."

"The interferometer on the Ark tracked your communicator to this address," said Europa. She glanced down at the raven and the marten. "I take it these are Blackbeak and Avic Kleets."

"Yes. I'm afraid Kleets murdered Blackbeak."

"Killed by his own henchman," said Lt. Furith, nodding. "A fitting end for him."

"What happened to Kleets?" asked Commissioner Vrudd.

"I took care of him," Teshobi replied. "Officer Zibaeri is out on the terrace, with Ortrum chasing him. He could probably use some help."

Europa ran out the door onto the stormswept terrace, Volthawk, Ken-Jo, and Digby following her.

"Well," said Officer Hopanga, looking down at Blackbeak with satisfaction, "that's one less crime boss!"

Vrudd lit himself a cigarette, took a drag on it, and expelled the smoke. "Crime bosses are like weeds. Cut one down and another pops up to take its place. All that changes are the faces and the names."

The rabbit looked at him. "Doesn't that make what we do kind of pointless, sir?"

The mole shook his head. "No. It makes it even more important."

Zibaeri and Firefox watched from the edge of the swimming pool as Slash and Ortrum struggled beneath the surface. They had been submerged for nearly a full minute now, and Slash had to be running out of air. Unable to help him, as her powers didn't work underwater, Firefox called her team-mates on her wrist communicator. Finally, Zibaeri couldn't stand being idle any longer. Holding the Eye of Destiny in one hand, the otter dove into the pool and swam toward the two writhing figures.

Immediately, he saw that Slash was in trouble. Ortrum had him in a choke hold from behind, one arm locked around his neck, and was trying to drown him as the boar grew weaker by the second from lack of air. Zibaeri swam around behind them, took careful aim with the Eye, and fired a green bolt that struck Ortrum squarely in the back. The squirrel glared at him, then released Slash and began swimming toward the otter, who quickly swam backward away from him. Unfortunately, while Zibaeri's aquatic heritage gave him superior speed and agility in the water, the pool wasn't all that big, and he once again found himself cornered. He fired again, but missed, and like a furry red shark, Ortrum closed in for the kill.

A thick, brown shape plunged into the water above Ortrum, seizing the squirrel as his clawed hands were reaching for Zibaeri. It was Digby, the platypus now wearing only trousers. He locked his arms around Ortrum's torso and wrestled the squirrel toward the edge of the pool as Ortrum hissed and thrashed. With the squirrel's clawed fingers tearing at his bill and face, Digby heaved him up out of the water and onto the concrete poolside, right in front of Firefox.

"Burn, you bastard!" Firefox growled, and unleashed a torrent of flame that engulfed the wet squirrel. Ortrum hissed, his body wreathed in fire, and ran blindly toward the edge of the roof. Europa, Ken-Jo, and Volthawk arrived just in time to see him go over. They ran to the edge and looked down, watching the burning figure shrink smaller and smaller as it fell toward the street sixty stories below and finally vanished.

Europa whirled to face Firefox. "Go down there and make sure he's dead!" Firefox nodded, rose into the air, and dove over the side, following Ortrum's path down to the street. Europa turned toward the pool and saw Ken-Jo and Volthawk helping Slash out of the water, the boar coughing and sputtering. Then she went over to where Digby and Zibaeri were climbing out of the pool, threw her arms around the otter, and kissed him. Zibaeri responded in kind, and they stood that way for a long moment.

"Nice to see you, too," said Zibaeri, smiling.

"I am . . . unaccustomed to having this level of personal involvement in things," Europa said, looking embarrassed.

Zibaeri chuckled. "I guess I should take that as a compliment." Then he looked at Digby. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The platypus shrugged. "I just thought I'd drop by and save your life. You're welcome."

"Much obliged," said Zibaeri, grinning.

"Indeed," said Europa. Then her wrist communicator buzzed. She answered it. "Yes?"

"Firefox here," came Firefox's tinny voice. "You're not going to believe this. He landed on a parked car. Caved it in. But there's no body!"

Europa blinked. "How is that possible? You were only a few seconds behind him!"

"My guess is he rolled off the car, fell into the gutter, and was swept down a drain into the sewer. The streets are like rivers from all this rain."

Europa sighed. "Very well. Rejoin us on the roof."

"After falling sixty stories while on fire, he must be in pretty bad shape," Zibaeri commented.

Europa nodded. "Even so, I will not feel comfortable until I am certain he has been destroyed."

Zibaeri stared at her. "That's unusually bloodthirsty for you!"

"Kialo Ortrum has become death incarnate," the panda said. "Come, let us rejoin the others." They began walking back toward the penthouse.

Entering Blackbeak's office, the group found that the police officers had Cyacit and Sparks surrounded, guns pointing at the two nos as they lay together on the carpet, while Nebus Zemake, who had come up with the other officers from the lobby, took pictures.

"That's the scum who killed Officer Wilder!" said Hopanga, glaring at Sparks, her violet eyes blazing with hatred.

Sparks looked up at the rabbit wearily. "Lady, that thing won't work on me," he said, nodding to her gun. "Anyway, we're both broken. We're no threat to anyone."

Zibaeri came over and knelt down beside Cyacit, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, buddy. I wish there was something I could do."

"Under the circumstances," the blue jay rasped, "it might be best if your friend with the sword there just finished us both off." He indicated Ken-Jo with his beak.

Sparks nodded. "Yeah, dead bodies don't heal, and it's not gonna be much fun spending eternity with a broken back."

Ken-Jo glanced at Vrudd. "What say you, Commissioner?"

The mole shook his head. "I don't have the authority to order anyone executed. Only a judge can do that."

"There is an alternative, Commissioner," said Dr. Teshobi. He gestured at the Eye of Destiny Zibaeri was holding. "That has the power to restore them."

"Why the hell would we want to do that?" Hopanga demanded.

Teshobi regarded the angry rabbit mildly. "Because it would be the humane thing to do."

"Yeah, and he was so humane to Wilder!" Hopanga shot back.

"I didn't mean to kill him!" Sparks whimpered. "I lost control! I'm sorry!"

"Tell that to his wife and kids!" Hopanga snarled.

"Calm down, Officer," Vrudd said quietly but firmly. Hopanga flattened her ears but fell silent.

Zibaeri regarded the Eye. "The problem is, I don't know how to use it that way."

"I think I do," said Teshobi. He looked at Vrudd. "With your permission?"

Vrudd nodded. "Be my guest, Doctor."

Zibaeri handed the Eye to Teshobi, and the beaver closed his eyes, recalling the words Ortrum had uttered in the elevator in Heroes Headquarters when he had used the Eye to heal himself. Trying to remember something in a foreign language is normally very difficult unless you've heard it many times, but Teshobi had a photographic memory. He recited the ancient Elinian incantation, the Eye glowed, and tendrils of green light snaked from the gem in its head to the bodies of Cyacit and Sparks. Immediately, they were both healed, Cyacit's smashed face returning to its original appearance. The blue jay got to his feet, felt his face with his clawed hands, and looked at Teshobi, swallowing. "Thank you so much, Doctor."

"Yeah, thanks a lot!" said Sparks, grinning.

"You're both quite welcome," said Teshobi.

"I'm afraid you're both also under arrest," Vrudd said to the two nos.

"Of course," said Cyacit. "We'll come quietly. We don't want any trouble." Sparks nodded in agreement.

Vrudd turned to Furith. "Take custody of these two until we can hand them over to the proper authorities." Then, to Hopanga, he said, "Call the coroner's office and have them send a meat wagon to collect all these bodies." Then he turned to Europa. "What's the score on Ortrum?"

The panda sighed. "Unfortunately, he appears to have escaped."

The mole groaned. "Oh, that's great!"

"However," Europa added, "without the Eye of Destiny, he cannot create any more nos, nor can he heal himself. And after being immolated and falling sixty stories, he is unlikely to be in any condition to do anyone much harm."

"Here's hoping," Vrudd muttered. He addressed the room. "Folks, I know this has been a long night and you're all tired. If it's any consolation, so am I. But I need statements from everyone about what happened tonight, so if you'll accompany me back to the station, I'll try to make this as quick and painless as possible."

As they began to leave, Volthawk paused beside Zemake. "Well, you got your exclusive after all, Nebus," he said. "Those pictures will make you the most famous reporter in Nexasho."

The duck sighed. "Stop trying to make me feel better."

"I wasn't," Volthawk said, and left.

"You have a visitor," said a calico cat wearing a soldier's uniform.

Cyacit looked up from a book of adventures on the high seas. "Who is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," the cat replied. "I was just told to come and get you."

The blue jay sighed, closed the book, and stood up. "Let's go, then."

They exited Cyacit's bungalow and walked across the old army base that had been converted into a nos internment camp. It was a bright, sunny day, and six nos were playing volleyball in the compound—a rabbit, a weasel, a goat, a koala, a skunk, and an anteater, all wearing tank tops and shorts. The ball they were using was made of an extremely tough materal to prevent their great strength from destroying it. They paused their game and gazed at Cyacit, crimson eyes glowing. They didn't bother concealing their true natures here. There was no reason to. Then, the rabbit stomped toward the blue jay, glaring at him. "Thanks a lot, Cyacit!" he snarled. "Now I'll never get out of here!"

The blue jay didn't look back at him. Keviano had every right to be angry. He was one of several nos who had been petitioning for release, claiming that they were safe to be allowed to reenter society, but the death of Officer Wilder had put all such proceedings on hold indefinitely. Many were convinced that they would remain locked up forever, and even though Cyacit hadn't been responsible for Wilder's death, most nos still connected him with it and blamed him for their continued confinement.

"Keep back, Keviano," the cat soldier warned, and the rabbit lowered his ears meekly and withdrew. His red eyes remained fixed upon Cyacit, however, simmering with resentment. His instinctive obedience to felines couldn't quell the anger in his unbeating heart. Cyacit and the cat soldier moved on.

They passed another bungalow, and their ears were assaulted by electronic squeals and whines issuing from the open window. Cyacit glanced inside to see Sparks sitting at a table, working on a partially disassembled radio. Since their arrival here two weeks ago, the hedgehog had taken out advertisements in a number of radio magazines and started his own mail-order repair business. It kept him busy and happy, which was good, since none of the other nos would speak to him and he had no expectation that he would ever be allowed to leave.

The cat soldier led Cyacit into the visitation room, and the blue jay stopped in his tracks and gasped at the familiar figure waiting for him. She was a white tiger, taller than himself and considerably more muscular, with beautiful blue eyes, wearing a white uniform and sailor's cap. She smiled when she saw him, and stood up. "Hello, Cyacit."

"Hello, Roazor," the blue jay replied, walking over to her. They both sat down at the table, facing each other, while the cat soldier watched. His presence wasn't strictly necessary, since Roazor was a cat, but regulations required it.

"It's good to see you again," said Roazor. "You're looking well."

"Thanks," Cyacit replied quietly. "Dr. Teshobi fixed my face."

She nodded. "I heard Ortrum messed it up pretty bad. I'm glad I never got a chance to see it. You were always so handsome." She smiled.

The blue jay tilted his head. "Isn't the Delphinia sailing today? Even if you catch the next train back to Nexasho, you're going to miss her."

"I'm not serving on her anymore," Roazor replied. "I've transferred to the Camunda."

"Ah," said Cyacit. "She's a fine ship."

"Yes, she is. Not as nice as the Delphinia, of course, but there are too many bad memories there."

"You mean like the time I tried to bury my beak in your throat?"

Roazor sighed. "You were doing what Ba-vast told you to do. You didn't have a choice."

"She didn't tell me to kill you," Cyacit said, leaning forward. "In fact, she stopped me from doing it. I wanted you dead, me! I wanted her to make you a nos so we could be together forever. And if you hadn't been a cat, she would have let me do it, and you'd now be one of us walking corpses."

Roazor waved her hand. "That's all in the past. Listen, I've been talking to people. Thanks to Keref's testimony, there's a good chance you could be released if you asked!"

Cyacit stared at her. "I'm guilty of multiple counts of assault!"

"Yes, but you never killed anyone, and you didn't cause anyone any lasting harm! Hell, you probably actually helped those winos you drank from, injecting them with that healing stuff you guys make. The lawyers I spoke with said they might be able to get a judge to grant you parole!"

Cyacit shook his head. "None of us are leaving here after what Sparks did."

Roazor grinned. "Don't be so sure. Nebus Zemake said he'd be willing to write an article in the Tribune praising your heroism! That could sway public opinion to your side! Anyway, it's worth a try."

"No," said Cyacit. "It isn't."

The tigress blinked. "Why not? Don't you want to get out of here?"

"Don't do this, Roazor. Don't make me your cause."

"But . . . I love you!"

"You love who I used to be. But that person is dead."

Roazor leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "That's not true! You're still you inside! You remember what we meant to each other!"

Cyacit gazed into her lovely blue eyes, remembering happy times they'd had together, remembering making love with her and how wonderful it had been. Her furred body against his feathered one. His scaly black hands caressing her striped back. Her whiskers brushing his beak. He stood up. "When I look at you, all I see is a bag of blood. Go away, Roazor, and stay away. I don't want to see you again." He turned and walked to the cat soldier, feeling her eyes on his back. "I'm done here."

The cat soldier led him from the room. As they walked back across the compound together, the cat said, "I thought nos didn't have any compassion. I guess I was wrong."

"It's easier this way," Cyacit said. "For both of us."

The cat nodded. "So, what's it like being dead?"

Cyacit shrugged. "It has its benefits, it has its drawbacks."

The funeral over, the mourners had departed, and Nebus Zemake now stood before Itak Mowett's grave, holding his hat in his hands as he gazed down at the freshly turned earth. Behind him stood Europa and Keref Zibaeri, the panda in a black dress with a veil, the otter in his crisp, white uniform, his cap in his webbed hands.

Europa moved up behind the duck and touched his shoulder. He looked back at her, and his eyes were bright with tears. "That was a lovely eulogy you gave," Europa said. "Very eloquent and moving. I never knew you could write like that."

"I don't usually have a reason to," Zemake said, his voice tight.

Europa nodded. "I wish I could ease your pain, but that is not within my power. Only you can do that. You are in a position to do a great deal of good in the world, Nebus Zemake. If you would have Mowett's death mean something, use it to become a better man."

Zemake returned to gazing down at the grave. Europa let go of his shoulder and went back to Zibaeri, and together they began walking across the cemetery.

"That was a very kind thing to say," Zibaeri commented as they passed among the headstones, "considering what he's written about you in the past."

"The blame for Mowett's death does not lie with him alone," Europa replied.

The otter bit his lip. "You mean because I led them both to that shack."

"I mean because had I given him the exclusive he wanted, he would have had no reason to seek out Cyacit and Sparks. And had I not treated you so high-handedly, you would not have felt the need to prove your heroism by leading him to them. Both decisions contributed to Mowett's death, and both were made by me."

"You can't blame yourself for that!" Zibaeri protested. "You couldn't have possibly foreseen how events would play out!"

Europa glanced back at him. "I seem to remember you blaming yourself for Cyacit's death—something you could not have foreseen, either."

Zibaeri sighed. "Touché."

"None of us can anticipate all the possible consequences of our actions," said Europa. "We must simply learn to live with them."

They arrived at Europa's car, where Digby Rasklin stood waiting for them, the platypus once again dressed in a very expensive suit. He climbed into the back seat, Europa got behind the wheel, and Zibaeri rode shotgun. She started up the car and they left the cemetery.

They drove to the waterfront, parked, and got out. Before them, the sleek, enormous form of the Delphinia sat at one of the piers, reflections from the water dancing upon her black hull, smoke drifting from the three scarlet funnels rising from her white superstructure.

"Next stop, Tatrolozu," said Zibaeri. "It'll be good to be at sea again. Not that the past two weeks on land have been completely unbearable." He smiled at Europa.

The panda smiled back and went around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. "I have something for you, Digby." She handed the surprised platypus a trumpet case.

"But I don't play the trumpet," Digby protested.

"Open it."

Digby did so, and his eyes widened at the sight of the golden scepter with the glowing green gem lying in the case. He snapped it shut at once.

"The authorities gave us the Eye of Destiny for safekeeping," said Europa. "We decided to give it to someone who can use it to do the most good."

"Ortrum said it can energize a nos so their body functions the way it did when they were alive," said Zibaeri.

Digby nodded. "Thank you. The Contessa will really appreciate this."

Zibaeri grinned. "Hopefully, not just her."

Digby bit his lip. Then a thought struck him. "But what about Ba-vast's ring? Ortrum's still out there somewhere, and he's already tried to steal it once."

"We have taken measures to ensure that neither he nor anyone else can ever touch it again," said Europa.

Digby nodded again, wondering what such measures might be but deciding it was best that he didn't know.

Omega Mouse floated above a desolate, gray, rock-strewn plain beneath a night-black sky. The stars were hard, unflickering points of light. He drifted along slowly, searching until he came upon a boulder taller than himself. That would do nicely. Floating down to the boulder, he grasped it with his scarlet-gloved hands and lifted it off the ground, revealing a shallow depression in the fine dust beneath it. Holding the boulder above his head with one hand, he reached down with his other hand and flipped open a compartment in his belt buckle. Normally, it contained a radium pill he used to recharge his powers in an emergency, but today it contained instead a golden ring bearing a cat's head with two tiny emeralds for eyes. He dropped the ring into the depression, then replaced the boulder, careful not to disturb the surrounding dust. He drifted backward to examine his handiwork. There was nothing to distinguish the boulder from thousands of others strewn about the plain. Satisfied, he turned and shot away, heading back toward the swirled blue-and-white sphere that hovered forever motionless in the night-black sky.