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Chapter 3: Cultists and Pragmatism

The cage was too small to lie down in. Therefore, Rita was obliged to either crouch or sit

in the dome-shaped prison. Her triangular ears brushed the top when she shifted positions. It

was terribly cramped to say the least. Leaning against the narrow brass bars themselves was

extremely uncomfortable, and Rita hadn't been able to sleep since the puma had shoved her

inside early that morning. It had given her plenty of time to think. Unfortunately, she kept

returning to the last images of Wolfgang and Boots: Wolfgang shot, lying in a pool of his own

blood; Boots' twisted frame at the bottom of the dark staircase. Rita tried to divert her mind to

her own situation. There was nothing she could do for her servants now. She needed to figure

out how to deal with these cultists.

The cheerfully painted clock on the wall of what, until recently, had been the Maplesburg

Mayor's office indicated that it was now late afternoon. Rita's muscles ached from being stuck in

the cramped position. She tried shifting her weight but to little avail. Anxiously, she watched as

the black minute hand again passed over the depiction of the sun that shone down on the

flower-filled meadow of the clock's face. When were her captors going to return? The puma had

made it clear he wanted her as a hostage to convince the King to suspend prey rights. Hence,

keeping her locked up made sense, but Rita didn't see what this level of confinement would

accomplish. Besides, she was hungry, and she really needed to pee.

Finally, at 4:27, the puma strode into the office followed by a gray female timber wolf.

Both were wearing black utility vests, and the wolf also had a black belt with a long, curved knife

and handgun looped around her hips. Rita noticed their vests had red insignias depicting a

deer's head over crisscrossed knife and fork in the upper left corner. The puma sat nonchalantly

at the large oak desk where Rita's cage had been placed.

"Now what's all this nonsense you wanted to talk with me about, Judith?" he growled.

The wolf shifted uncomfortably on her feet, "I just think we need to be more careful, think

about the long term. You can't keep dragging prey out of their houses. No one is going to stand

for that."

The puma nudged Rita's cage, "We have our trump card. What are they going to do

while she's in our custody?"

"The King might be reluctant to act, but what about the prey?" the wolf pressed.

He scoffed, "The prey? You don't really think-"

"Or the other predators. Most of them don't agree with us, and they might be willing to

sacrifice one fox for the safety of their prey friends."

"We have other hostages," the puma rejoined.

"Fewer today than we did last night! Do you think letting our members eat them will

increase our leverage?!"

"They were prey, weren't they? What else are prey for?"

"They were supposed to be leverage to get the citizens to cooperate! Voices of authority

we could use to pacify the populace! They can't do that post-digestion!"

The puma waved his hand dismissively before patting Rita's cage, "This is the only

hostage we need," he replied confidently. "The perfect voice of authority to 'pacify the populace'

as you say."

The wolf looked like she was about to respond, but Rita cut in, "I'll endeavor to do my

utmost. However, would one of you be so kind as to escort me to the restroom? It's been quite a

long day, and it is rather urgent."

The puma glanced at her, looking annoyed at the interruption, "Pee in there. I'll have

someone hose you off later."

"Joshua! You can't make her sit in her own urine! Haven't you taken her out all day?" the

wolf remonstrated irritatedly.

The puma snarled, "Don't take that tone with me, Judith! And shut it with your idiotic

worrying! You know who got us where we are! We'd never have half the membership let alone

control of Maplesburg if it weren't for my vision!"

The wolf cowered back, "I'm sorry, Joshua. You're right. I ought to have faith in your

plan. Can, may I take the Duchess to the restroom?"

The puma snorted. "Do what you want with her. So long as we have her in our custody,

there's nothing the King can do."

The wolf slunk up to the desk and examined the cage and the locked door. She held out

her hand, "May I have the key?"

The puma sat up in his seat with a grunt and yanked open the middle drawer of the

desk, noisily sifting through its contents until he found the brass key. He slapped it into the

wolf's hand. She unlocked Rita's cage and reached inside to grab her scruff.

"I can manage myself!" Rita protested. "I'm not going to try to run away!"

The wolf gave her a dubious look.

"On my honor as a predator," Rita swore.

"What does that mean for some prissy fox who's never slain prey in her life?" the puma

mocked.

"I'll have you know I've killed plenty of prey! Simply because I don't subscribe to your

ideology doesn't mean I can't experience the thrill of the kill!"

"Prove it," the puma growled.

"How do you intend for me to do that?"

He stood, "I'll go get you one."

"Fair enough, but I'd appreciate it if you'd withhold that test until after I use the restroom

and have a bite to eat, preferably."

"Eat? I'll be brining you prey! What else would you need to eat? Asparagus? Take your

trip to the bathroom."

"Thank you." Rita turned her eyes toward the wolf, who was still holding her by the

scruff.

She let Rita go and beckoned for her to follow, "I'll show you to the bathroom."

Rita scrambled out of the cage and briefly stretched her sore muscles. However,

stretching only upset her bladder further, and she quickly hopped down from the desk and

speedily followed the much larger canid out of the office and down the hall.

The wolf insisted on coming into the restroom with her, but at least Rita had the stall to

herself. She sighed in relief as she emptied her swollen bladder. Once she was finished, she

trotted out to the sink. The wolf eyed her cautiously as she washed her hands.

"Have you really killed prey before?" the wolf asked.

"I have," Rita answered casually, scrubbing her hands diligently. She rinsed the soap off

and gave them a shake.

The wolf motioned toward the blow drier, but Rita shook her head.

"Those are unsanitary," Rita told her.

The wolf rolled her eyes. "So what did you do? Step on a mouse by accident?"

"Have you heard about the killer who's been displaying their works around Maplesburg?"

"You mean the serial killer who likes to cut his victims into little pieces?"

"That's me," Rita stated smugly.

The wolf gave her a distasteful look, "We kill prey for food. We don't torture them."

"You can't tell me you don't enjoy the thrill of seeing the fear in their eyes before you kill

them," Rita countered.

"That's not the point. The point is they're our food, not that slop they make us eat."

"Is that why you're doing this? You dislike the lab meat? I think it tastes rather nice."

"Have you ever had the real thing?" she pressed.

"No," Rita answered mildly.

The wolf shook her head and growled, "All of those kills, and you didn't even bother to

taste it. What a waste."

"And you've never taken the time to have some fun before your dinner. I say that's the

waste!" Rita shot back.

The wolf rolled her eyes again but then chuckled lightly, "Heheh, well, I guess no one

can accuse you of being a prey-lover. You'll have to eat the one Joshua gives you to kill

though."

"No problem, I'm famished."

The wolf escorted her back to the office. The puma was waiting with a white and brown

rabbit whose hands were tied behind his back. The puma shoved him toward Rita with his foot

as she entered.

"There you go. I expect you know what to do," the puma growled.

"That's not another of our hostages, is it?" the wolf inquired.

"No, I took him from one of our men," he replied. "I expect this will be worth taking food

out of the mouths of our members," he added warningly.

Rita eyed the rabbit disconcertedly. Not that he looked much like her, but his white and

brown fur reminded her of Ellie. Rita was surprised to find that the idea he might be related

disturbed her quite a bit. She trotted up to him and put a hand on his cheek: it was damp, and

his puffy eyes showed that he'd been crying.

"What's your name, Dear?" she crooned soothingly.

"Jeremiah," he whined.

"Jeremiah what?"

"Jeremiah Baker."

"You wouldn't know an Ellie Bennett, would you?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. What do you do for a living, Jeremiah?"

"Get on with it!" the puma roared.

The rabbit shot into the air, and Rita caught him as he landed, steadying him so he

wouldn't fall.

"I'm merely getting to know my guest!" Rita protested.

The puma growled, "I knew you didn't have the stomach for it. Shove her back in her

cage, Judith."

The wolf stepped toward her, and Rita yelped, "Wait! I'll do it in a minute. What's the

rush?"

"I have better things to do," the puma growled.

"W-what are you going to do?" the rabbit whined.

"I'm going to have to kill you, Dear. I would have liked to spend some time chatting first,

but we're in a terrible hurry, it seems. I apologize for the abruptness." Still holding him by the

shoulders, she bent down to reach her jaws for his throat.

"N-no! I-I have a wife and kids!" he cried.

Rita clamped her jaws around his throat, and he sobbed. Sorry, Dear. Biting down hard,

Rita jerked her head to open his throat with her dagger-sharp canines. Blood sprayed out of the

ragged wound, peppering Rita's front. The rabbit jerked twice before falling still. Rita lay the

body down onto the floor where blood continued to seep into the tannish blue carpet around it.

She looked up at the puma: he was watching with an amused expression.

"That's one way to do it," he jested. "Messy though. Go ahead and eat. I'll let Judith

figure out where to put you if she thinks the cage is unacceptable." He sauntered out of the

room, stepping over the body and blood-soaked carpet on his way.

Rita eyed the rabbit's body uncomfortably: he still didn't look like dinner. What am I

supposed to do about all the fur? "Do you do anything to prepare it, or do you dig right in?" Rita

queried awkwardly.

"I'll show you how to skin and clean it," the wolf muttered.

She stepped forward from where she was watching by the door and picked the rabbit's

body up by the legs. It swung limply, residual blood dripping from the neck wound.

She gestured to Rita with a jerk of her head, "Come on."

The wolf led Rita out of the office area into the wider City Hall. Standing, Rita came to

the wolf's hip, and as she followed the wolf's bushy gray tail, she might have rushed forward

and easily ducked to dart between her legs. In addition to being at least three times her height,

the wolf was several times her weight. However, unlike the massive puma--who stood almost

fifty percent taller than the wolf and was probably two and a half times her weight--she was still

smaller than Boots; although, Boots was much less fierce, had been much less fierce. Rita

forced away the image of the human's broken body; she needed to focus on her current

situation.

They crossed a balconied walkway over the front entry hall. Peering down, Rita saw

around two score of the cultists, primarily larger cats and dogs, milling about on the ground

level. Some had set up tents, and others were utilizing gas camping stoves. The aroma of

roasting meat wafted up to Rita's nose: it certainly smelled good. Maybe she should have tried

eating her victims before now. She glanced at the dangling rabbit gruesomely swinging in front

of her as the wolf strode through the hall. On the other hand, maybe not.

"Do you usually live in camps?" Rita inquired.

The wolf glanced back at her, "We're not exactly welcome in broader society," she

growled.

"Do you think this will change that?"

The wolf nodded, but then hesitated before she went on, "Joshua thinks so."

"And you think differently?"

"He's brought us this far. He's an inspiring leader," she answered.

"Inspiring people to follow you is all well and good, but now you're in charge of a city.

You have to deal with the realities of managing those who don't agree or even violently oppose

what you're doing."

The wolf sighed and shook her head, "I know. Joshua doesn't seem to understand the

difference. He thinks a few high-ranking hostages are enough to cow people while he harvests

their neighbors, and half of those he doesn't even care about. It's like he doesn't understand

that other people don't view prey the way we do. I actually had to stop one of our members from

eating the Mayor this morning! All because she's a bird and not a raptor, our most important

hostage!" She glanced back at Rita, "Aside from you anyway."

"Probably more important where the people of Maplesburg are concerned," Rita

admitted. "Your leader is right that the King won't want to put me in danger, but I've had little

interaction with the general populace."

The wolf glanced back at her again with a frown, "That's what I assumed. I'd hardly even

heard of you before I joined our group. No offense."

"None taken," Rita dismissed. "Honestly, I'm sympathetic to your cause. Prey have

gotten far too uppity since they realized they could win elections by sheer numbers. Not that that

means anything really, but they've gotten self-important. I can deal with any who offend me as I

see fit, but it must be frustrating for predators who don't have the status to put them in their

place."

"It all started with that slop they make us eat," the wolf replied darkly. "Damn whoever

invented that!"

"It was less the inventor's doing and more the monarchy's," Rita corrected. "Philip the

Third, I think it was. He realized the potential for unification lab meat offered us. It was much

trickier keeping the country together before that. It took all of our wits and guile to convince the

prey they were better off united than attempting a revolt. Why do you think foxes are in charge?"

The wolf stopped and turned around to glare at her through suspicious, narrowed amber

eyes, "I thought you said you sympathized. What you call unification, I call subjugation. Maybe it

protected your precious monarchy but only at the cost of predators' freedom."

"I understand the logic behind Philip's decision. That doesn't mean I think he was right or

that I agree with everything that's happened since. I'm sure there's a middle ground between

pulling people out of their houses and forcing you to eat what you consider slop," Rita explained.

"My idea was to make them pay tribute, so they can decide who gets eaten as long as

they cooperate."

"Hmm, I'm not sure how well that would work either. I doubt they'd cooperate for long, if

at all."

The wolf snorted derisively. "Then what do you think we should do? Beg them to let us

have their violent criminals and be satisfied with a taste of proper meat once every few years?"

"There must be plenty of prey who die every day, not only from disease but also in

accidents. If we gave you a right to their dead and there was a slight uptick in the number of

accidents, well, there's plausible deniability at least. Enough that, if we fix the numbers, most of

them will accept the official narrative, assuming your group doesn't explode in size."

"We'd mostly be eating the old and diseased then," the wolf grumbled. She didn't sound

as though she liked the idea, but she seemed to see the pragmatism of the suggestion.

"That depends on the increase in the number of accidents, but yes, I suppose it would

tend that way. I suppose it depends on whether you prefer something sustainable or a really

good run before you're deposed and executed."

"If we're deposed, you're going with us," the wolf growled warningly. "Especially if it's the

King who deposes us."

"I'm well aware. That's why I'm trying to help you. Besides, I don't relish the idea of

having to be rescued. I prefer to negotiate a solution, show Frederick he can count on me."

The wolf nodded, "Makes sense." She sighed, "Unfortunately, I don't think you'll be able

to get through to Joshua. He might prefer to go down fighting than to accept any compromise."

"Do you think many of your members agree with him?"

"It doesn't matter. He's their leader; they'll do what he says."

"How is that determined?"

"Loyalty," she stated bluntly.

"No, I mean, who the leader is. You seem to have some authority; at least, he feels he

has to consider your view. How is your leadership determined?"

"We put it to a vote. Unfortunately, there are more cats in our group than dogs. Every

time I get enough support for a vote, he wins."

"So the group is split along feline-canine lines?"

"We're united," she insisted. "But you know cats; they don't want a dog in charge."

"They can be very arrogant," Rita agreed.

The wolf eyed her suspiciously, "Almost as arrogant as foxes. Be careful, 'Your Grace';

whether you're really sympathetic to our cause or not, don't think I'm stupid enough to let a fox

trick me."

"Noted," Rita chirped cheerfully. "We can discuss how to convince Joshua to

compromise later. For the moment, let's focus on dinner. Maybe I'll be converted to your way of

thinking when I taste 'proper meat' for the first time."

The wolf smirked and lifted up the dangling rabbit, "Maybe. Come on." She turned and

continued to lead Rita to another office on the other side of the entry hall.

Rita watched curiously as the wolf gutted and skinned the rabbit. The gutting wasn't so

different from what she'd done when extracting organs; although, her forays with a scalpel had

been more delicate than the wolf's work with the long, curved knife she took from her belt. On

the other hand, Rita had never skinned someone. Perhaps I ought to have a go at that

sometime.

"Do you think I could try that?" Rita inquired.

The wolf glanced at her and then the wickedly sharp knife. "I don't think so," she

answered dryly.

When the wolf finished skinning the rabbit, she cut it into pieces, skewered them, and

then began roasting them on a portable gas grill.

"You don't eat it raw then," Rita remarked.

The wolf glared at her, "We're not savages."

When it was done and had cooled enough to eat, the wolf handed Rita one of the

wooden-handled skewers. Rita took a delicate, experimental bite of the meat: warm, savory

juices flowed over her tongue. The rabbit was unlike anything she'd tasted before, including lab-

grown rabbit meat: it was more herbal, fresher, more complex. The tender, savory flavors

danced over Rita's tongue until she gulped down the bite. She tore off a larger bite with a little

more effort than she was used to; it was also tougher than the lab-grown meat. Rita attempted

to keep her expression neutral, but she noticed the wolf grinning at her.

"Good, isn't it?" the wolf teased. "Are you converted?"

"It's tasty, but I'm not sure I'd characterize the alternative as 'slop' in comparison. Gustav

can do wonders in the kitchen with any cut you give him. It's merely a matter of preparing it

properly. Of course, if you're only going to eat unseasoned chunks of it, then this is nicer."

The wolf snorted contemptuously. "'Gustav?' Not everyone can afford their own personal

chef, 'Your Grace'," she drawled.

"I'm sure they can afford to look up a recipe or two online," Rita dismissed.

The wolf frowned, "It takes more than some spices to make up the difference."

"It hardly seems worth living as outcasts from society."

"Maybe not to you. Besides, that's what we're correcting."

"Quite. Well, we'll see what we can do about that. I think some solution can be reached

so long as we're committed to attaining a reasonable compromise."

Rita finished eating what the wolf had prepared for her, and the wolf finished off the rest

of the rabbit.

"Right, now we just need to figure out what I'm going to do with you," the wolf mused. "I

think that cage Joshua got was a little bit ridiculous, but obviously, I need to restrain you

somehow." She picked up a tan backpack from the desk of the office and began to rummage

through it. She extracted a pair of handcuffs. "I picked these up when we raided the pigs," she

noted. She scanned the room, her eyes finally settling on the swivel chair behind the desk.

The black cushioned chair had wheels on a metal ring at the bottom. The wolf dragged

the chair over to where Rita was seated and locked one cuff around her right wrist and the other

around the bottom of the chair.

"I don't think you'll get far dragging that," she commented. "Don't try anything though, or

you're going back in the cage."

Rita nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate your civility. That cage wasn't comfortable in the

slightest."

"Like I said, we're not savages. If you need to use the restroom, ask, and I'll escort you.

Are you alright for now?"

Rita nodded.

"I'm going to go find more dinner then. Don't leave the office while I'm gone."

"As you say. I'm quite sleepy anyway. I couldn't rest at all before."

The wolf nodded, seeming satisfied. "There's a bedroll over there," she nodded toward a

tightly rolled up black sleeping bag on the floor in front of the desk. "I'll see if I can find you your

own."

The wolf left, closing and locking the door behind her. The door locked by a latch on the

inside, so Rita easily could have left. However, as the wolf had said, she wouldn't likely get far

dragging the chair before someone stopped her. Rita dragged the chair over to the sleeping

bag. She was obliged to proceed on all fours as her attachment to the bottom of the chair didn't

allow her to stand properly. She gave the bedding a cautious sniff: it smelled strongly of the

wolf's sour musk. Canine scent didn't bother Rita much, but the idea of sleeping in bedding so

inundated with someone else's bodily oils did. I hope she finds me a cleaner one. Rita unrolled

the bag and lay on top of it, her right hand resting on the ring at the bottom of the chair. She

needed to consider how she was really going to deal with these cultists; allowing them to

continue to terrorize Maplesburg simply wasn't a tenable option, and even if they were willing to

compromise, Rita had no intention of actually negotiating a permanent change to the current

order. No, terrorists such as these needed to be crushed, completely. Otherwise, the ruling

class would seem impotent and others might begin to question the vulpine hegemony.

Fortunately, they seemed divided. Rita could work with that. For now, however, she was

exhausted, having only slept a few hours last night and not at all since. Rita soon slipped into

needed slumber.

* * *

Rita awoke the next morning. The pale dawn light filtered through the window. A bit early

for Boots to bring my coffee yet. Rita pulled the covers up to block the light. They smelled

strongly of cat. The strong feline tang wasn't something Rita was used to even after holding

Jason the past couple weeks; on him, the scent was lighter. So why did her bed smell like a cat

had been lying in it for weeks? Rita's eyes popped open, and she noticed the desk as well as

the office chair she was chained to. She noticed she was lying in a bag on the floor. Oh, right.

She was in the custody of the cultists now, and Boots wouldn't be bringing her coffee because

he was- The gruesome image of his twisted body flashed through her mind. Rita let out a cry of

distress. Not Boots!

"Are you awake then?" the wolf sounded slightly annoyed.

Rita shoved aside the disturbing images and sat up to look at her. The wolf was sitting

up in her own sleeping bag, her elbows resting on her knees as she watched Rita.

"I have business to attend to, so as soon as you eat and do whatever you need to do, I

want to get on with it."

"What's for breakfast?"

The wolf nodded to a hunk of meat on top of the unlighted gas grill, "You can finish that

off. I'll find something fresh."

Rita eyed the leftover meat disconcertedly, "What is it?"

"Mutton."

Rita decided not to ask any more about the sheep who the mutton had been. "Did you

move me last night? I don't remember getting in this bag."

"You were on top of my bed. I decided not to wake you."

Rita didn't like the idea of the wolf handling her in her sleep, but rather than say so she

replied, "That was considerate."

"I don't know how I ended up being your nanny, but I suppose someone had to do it," the

wolf commented dryly. "I'm sure you're used to being waited on and pampered. Well, this might

not be as luxurious as you're used to," she gestured to the surrounding office with a sweep of

her arm. "But a hostage isn't much good if she starves."

"I appreciate that you're doing your best to make me comfortable."

"Like I said, you're not much use dead."

"But you certainly could be treating me worse. You could have left me in the cage, for

example."

"There's such a thing as basic respect," she declared.

"True, and you're going to need that if you plan to stay in power. You have to have some

consideration for what others need, even those outside your group. There's a limit to what

people will endure, and therefore, a limit to what thinking only of your own desires will get you."

The wolf grunted in acknowledgment before asking, "Do you need to go to the bathroom

before you eat?"

Rita nodded, and the wolf got up and took the key for the handcuffs out of the pocket of

her vest, which she was still wearing. Rita noticed the wolf also had kept the belt with her gun

and knife close at hand. She unlocked Rita's handcuff then retrieved her belt and looped it

around her hips. Rita stood and stretched; it was good to stand up after being stuck close to the

floor.

The wolf jerked her head toward the door, "Come on."

Rita noticed that the wolf had to unlock the door as they exited. "Do all of your members

have their own room?" she inquired.

"Most of them are camped in the entry hall."

"I'm sorry for dragging you away from your friends."

"I like my privacy," the wolf responded tersely.

"Then I'm sorry for intruding."

The wolf grunted ambiguously.

They both used the restroom and washed their hands--the wolf also used the blow

drier--before returning to the office. The wolf sat in the chair, which she barely fit in, and

watched Rita contemplatively while she ate.

"Do you really think your solution would be sustainable?" the wolf muttered.

Rita paused her eating, "I believe so."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I believe I can sell it to Frederick. He won't like it, but I can make him see reason."

"And then everyone else will accept it?"

"They don't have much of a choice really. Of course, like I said, we'll want plausible

deniability to limit any protests, but ultimately, I'm in charge unless the King says otherwise."

The wolf stood, rolled the chair over to Rita, and locked the handcuff around her left

wrist. "If you're okay, I'll be back in a few hours."

Rita nodded. "Good luck with Joshua."

The wolf didn't look hopeful about convincing the puma, but she nodded. She exited the

office, again locking Rita in. Maybe the intention is to keep someone else out. Rita supposed the

wolf could see holding their most important hostage as a source of leverage in the cult's

hierarchy. So far, the wolf had treated her well enough, so Rita wasn't anxious to be under the

paw of someone who might be crueler, like the puma. Rita could always let someone in if she

wanted to anyway.

Rita spent the next few hours boredly sitting next to the chair on the thin, ugly blue

carpet. She briefly explored the room but found nothing interesting. She was almost pleased

when the wolf returned.

"Any luck?"

The wolf shook her head, frowning darkly. "Just like I said, he'd rather die and take the

rest of us with him."

Rita frowned, "Do you think it would help if I talked to him?"

"I doubt it."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Hope Joshua is right and things will work out," she grumbled.

"He isn't right," Rita emphasized. "If you go down this path, you'll all be killed. You'd

have been better off staying where you were."

"What do you think I should do?" she asked annoyedly.

"You need to show him there's support for compromise, get enough of your members on

your side that, even if you can't take control, he'll see that he has to listen."

The wolf nodded slowly, "I suppose I can talk with the others, try to get them to see that

Joshua's position is suicidal. Even most cats can't want to die when there's an alternative."

Rita nodded. "At any rate, we have to try! I'm sure most of them will see reason!"

The wolf didn't seem convinced, but she nodded anyway. "It's worth a shot. Do you need

to use the restroom before I go back out?"

Rita nodded. After the wolf took her to the restroom, she locked her back to the chair

and in the office. Rita hoped the cultists wouldn't be too reasonable. She wanted the puma to

feel there was a threat to his power but not for him to be overwhelmingly out-voted. She needed

conflict within the cult, and this issue was the most promising source she had.

Rita napped through most of the afternoon until she was awakened by someone yanking

on the door. She shot up and watched the noisily wiggling handle nervously. The wiggling

stopped, and Rita held her breath, hoping whoever it was would give up and leave. I doubt

they've come to rescue me! Instead, she heard the sound of metal scraping inside the lock.

After a few minutes, the lock clicked open, and the door slowly swung in. Rita tensed as she

saw the puma standing in the door. He grinned at her toothily before shutting the door behind

him. He sauntered across the room and crouched down in front of her, still towering over her.

His tail flipped as he glared down at her.

"C-can I help you?" Rita queried. She tried to keep the fear out of her voice but wasn't

successful.

The puma grinned dangerously, "So, you think you have a better idea of how we should

go about things," he stated softly, menacingly.

"I was merely trying to offer a solution. Judith said she wanted to reach a stable

compromise, but I didn't think her plan sounded feasible."

"There isn't going to be any compromise," the puma growled. "The prey belong to us.

The other predators will accept that, and there's nothing the prey can do to resist."

"I think you'll find things a bit more difficult than that," Rita returned.

The puma's hand shot out, and he grabbed Rita by the neck. She struggled to pry his

hand away with her free right hand, but he was far too strong.

"If I didn't need you alive, I'd kill you right here," he snarled. "You foxes are the ones who

got us into this mess with your 'compromises'. There's only liberty or slavery. I won't be the

slave."

He let her go, and Rita gasped a breath.

"M-maybe there's some other way I can help you. I can help give your cause legitimacy

with my support," she suggested nervously.

He snorted contemptuously. "We don't need your legitimacy. We're creating a new order

without prissy foxes trying to tell us what to do."

"You're starting a conflict you can't possibly win. If the stability of Vulpineva is on the

line, the King will sacrifice me. You'll all be hunted down and killed," she urged.

"Then you'll die too," he growled.

"I know! That's why I'm trying to help! If my original solution isn't acceptable, then we'll

think of another one!"

He narrowed his golden eyes dangerously, "Like what?"

Rita thought quickly, "The police! I-"

"We already dealt with them."

"No, I mean, I can appoint anyone I want; they work for me!"

He gave her a bemused look, "Really?"

"Yes! It, it might be tricky to pull off unnoticed, but I could appoint your people. Then you

could get away with whatever you wanted!"

He looked dubious, "What's the difference? You really think it won't be obvious what's

happening if we wear badges while we 'arrest' prey?"

"We-ell, that might be too obvious, but if prey continue to disappear at a similar or even

slightly higher rate, we can deny it has anything to do with your group."

"And you think that will fool them?" he asked skeptically. "It's not like when no one

believed we existed; we're here now. We can't go back into hiding."

The wheels of Rita's mind were spinning rapidly. Her suggestion about the police had

been desperate, but she could find a way to turn it toward her advantage. She maintained a

nervous tone, "We, we'd probably have to convince them you'd been dealt with."

He narrowed his eyes and growled, "How?"

"P-perhaps we can round up some predators and pretend they were responsible, make

a show of having them tried and executed. Then we could proceed as if the problem was

solved."

He tapped his chin with a razor-sharp claw, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, "That could

work. It might be even more convincing if we arrested predators known to be involved with us,

predators who were observed ransacking the police station, for example," he mused.

Rita had to hold back her glee at his treacherous suggestion, "I wouldn't think you'd want

to sacrifice your own people."

"There are a few who've been causing more than their share of trouble," he growled

darkly.

"If we really wanted it to be convincing, we'd have to sacrifice quite a few, maybe about

half of your group. I doubt anyone knows how many of you there really are, but they probably

think it's at least a dozen."

"About half," he murmured thoughtfully. "I think we can withstand that. We can make up

for the loss in numbers later. When predators see that they don't need to be slaves to prey,

they'll be joining us in droves."

"It's a lot of your loyal members. Maybe using other predators is better."

He shook his head, "No, if this is going to work, it needs to be people who've been seen

harvesting prey."

"Do you have an idea about who to choose, or will you do it by lottery?"

He grinned, "I have an idea."

Rita had a good idea who would be included. "Well, let's think about it for a little while. It

seems extreme, but this may be the only solution."

He nodded slowly. Rita didn't think the treacherous cat needed any time at all to

consider it. It was exactly what she'd hoped: fragile authoritarians needed to purge their

opposition to stay in power, even when that opposition was overwhelmingly on their side. He

stood and turned toward the door but then turned back to look at her contemplatively.

"If I take you with me, Judith will know I was here, but if I leave you, you might tell her

what we've discussed," he mused out loud.

"On my honor as a predator, I won't breathe a word of this to her," Rita swore.

"Dogs tend to stick together," he stated.

"Foxes aren't really dogs. Canids, yes, but I've always thought we had more in common

with cats. We rely more on our wits like you, and anatomically, well," she displayed her

retractable claws. "At the very least, we're neutral where cats and dogs are concerned. Clearly,

you're in charge. I'm on the side of whoever finds a path that keeps me alive."

He nodded, "I'll leave you here then."

He proceeded out the door, and then Rita heard him working to get it locked for a few

minutes before the lock slid back into place. Rita stayed silent several minutes, listening

carefully. He seemed to be gone. She snorted but restrained herself from bursting into raucous

laughter. Her shoulders shook in silent mirth. What an idiot! It had been child's play to trick the

overconfident puma! Half of his members! Rita knew exactly which half it would be, the same

half who would likely agree with the wolf about the need to compromise. There's a reason foxes

are in charge!

About six o'clock, the wolf finally returned. She sighed grumpily as she stepped through

the door, locking it behind her.

"Do you need to use the restroom?" she grumbled.

"I do, but first I'd like to hear how it went. Were you able to convince many of your

members?"

"Not enough," she answered tersely.

"Oh dear, I thought they'd see reason," Rita replied, doing her best to sound worried.

"They all want to die rather than compromise?"

"Not all. Most of the dogs, almost all of the dogs, understood what I said. They weren't

happy about the idea of mostly eating the old and diseased, but they saw that it's the only way.

Most of the others understood too, except the cats."

Rita shook her head somberly, "I can't believe they wouldn't see reason, all because of

species. It's incredible."

"Species among other things," she grumbled resignedly. "I accidentally let it slip that I'd

been discussing the issue with you, and then they didn't want to listen. They're upset about a

lynx who died during the raid on your manor."

"Oh no, I'm terribly sorry about that. We were only defending ourselves though."

"I know, and she knew the risks. It's a ridiculous reason to ignore what you had to say.

One cat died, so now they all want to die? And they accuse us of being loyal to a slavish

degree!"

"So what fraction of your members did see reason?"

"About half."

Rita stroked her chin, pretending to consider the problem carefully, "I think you should

keep at it. Keep trying to convince them, and meanwhile, let Joshua know how much support

you've garnered in only one day. It's far from hopeless. If you can only convince a few more,

he'll have to listen, or you can call an election and depose him, giving the same result."

The wolf nodded, "You're right. Almost fifty percent in one day--one afternoon really--is

nothing to give up on. I'll remind them what's at stake, that Lucy knew what's at stake and gave

her life for us. They can't throw away her sacrifice by letting her die for nothing."

Rita assumed Lucy was the lynx, the one who'd killed Wolfgang and wounded Boots.

She and her cause could rot in Tartarus for all Rita cared, but she smiled pleasantly. All that

mattered was that the wolf continued to make herself obnoxious to the puma, make him feel

threatened if possible. "Excellent point. Reason and sentiment, you'll be certain to convince a

good fraction with incisive argumentation like that."

The wolf appeared hopeful. Rita had to restrain herself from giggling. After the wolf took

her to the restroom, she led her downstairs to the entry hall. Several of the cultists gave Rita

curious looks as she walked by. Several of the feline cultists glared at her. The wolf stopped

beside the carcass of an enormous hog. A jaguar was busy slicing hunks of bloody meat and

gelatinous fat off of the hog. Like all of the cultists, he wore a black utility vest with the deer

head insignia and a belt carrying a gun, in this case an Uzi, and the empty sheath for his knife.

"Big piece for me, smaller piece for her," the wolf ordered.

The jaguar turned to eye the two of them and glared at Rita. "Are you sure she wouldn't

prefer some of that slop from the store or a nice head of broccoli?" he sneered.

"She'll eat what I say she does, Rico!" the wolf barked.

The jaguar scowled. "Yes, Ma'am," he muttered.

He carved off two chunks of flesh, and the wolf accepted them. She took Rita over to a

large, black charcoal grill where several other pieces of the pig were roasting. Rita sniffed the

savory sweet aroma, and her mouth watered. Even if these terrorists threatened the Vulpinevan

way of life, they had a point about the quality of meat to be had from prey. A wolverine was

busily poking and turning the grilling meat with a pair of tongs. His brown face reminded Rita of

Johann, and she blinked back a tear. This wasn't the time for sentiment.

"These are ours," the wolf stated as she set the pieces of meat in an empty spot on the

grill.

The wolverine glanced at the meat and then them, nodded, and went back to work.

"He'll let us know when it's done," the wolf told her.

She led Rita a short distance away and sat on the white marble floor. Rita sat beside

her. The wolf looked down at her and gave her a small smile.

"Not so bad, is it, Your Grace?"

"It has a quaint charm. I imagine it's even more atmospheric out in the woods than in this

gaudy hall."

The wolf glanced around at the marble staircases and columns, the rows of windows in

the front extending up the four stories to the vaulted ceiling, and the walkways overlooking the

hall on the upper floors behind. "It looks nice to me."

"The columns and floor are mismatched. The windows are too small, and that awful

carpet on the floor upstairs completely ruins everything," Rita criticized.

The wolf snorted in amusement. "If you say so."

At length, their pork was cooked. The wolverine deposited it on a platter, and the wolf led

Rita over to retrieve it.

"Thank you!" Rita chirped. "I don't think I caught your name."

The wolverine glanced at her, "Simon."

"Pleased to meet you, Simon."

"I guess," he muttered.

"If you ever think about changing professions, I might have an opening for you."

He gave her a funny look, "Uh, okay."

The wolf led her back over to their spot on the floor. "What was that about?"

Rita paused, a bit embarrassed by the silliness of her answer, "Um, he just reminded me

of one of my bodyguards, Johann. He, Wolfgang told me he was killed in the attack, and now

he's dead too, and Boots." Rita quickly brought her left arm up to wipe her eyes. "Sorry, I know

you lost someone too."

The wolf put her hand on Rita's closer (left) shoulder. "I'm sorry you lost people you

cared about. I wish it didn't have to be this way. Predators shouldn't be fighting over prey. We

should be united, sharing in the bounty nature gave us, like this," she gestured around the room

to the cultists feasting on the hog.

Rita didn't point out the irony of appealing to unity while eating another Vulpinevan

citizen. She didn't tell the wolf that Boots had been an ape, and while the human could eat

meat, no proper carnivore would have viewed him as anything other than prey, least of all these

carnivores. No, Boots would have been another prey for the slaughter. Suddenly, Rita didn't

have much of an appetite for the hunk of grilled pig she was holding. These terrorists weren't

only a threat to the Vulpinevan way of life and ruling order; they were utterly wrong. Rita may

have found Frederick's talk of unity and harmony naive, but that didn't mean the opposite was

true. There are exceptions; not all prey are for killing. Ellie's angry visage flashed through her

mind, "Maybe I'm not an exception at all! Maybe you'd see that we're all people if you took the

time and were open-minded. No one deserves to be killed!" the rabbit rebuked her. Thinking of

her lost pet dropped another stone into Rita's stomach; she didn't even know if Ellie was still

alive. One of these cultists might have devoured her without a second thought, leaving no trace

of the feisty bunny she'd grown to adore. No, there was no place for people like Boots or Ellie in

these cultists' unity.

The wolf patted her back, mistaking the nature of Rita's contemplation. "If you need to

talk about it, I'm here."

Rita looked up at the wolf, noting the sincerity in her expression. For a moment, she felt

sorry for the wolf; she wasn't evil, only brainwashed. But her sincere belief is precisely what

makes her dangerous. She looked back at the hunk of flesh in her hands. She needed to be

stoic, to harden her resolve for what had to be done. Even if the wolf was kind to her, she had to

die, just like the rest of them. Meanwhile, Rita had to keep up her strength, to nourish her brain

so that her wits wouldn't fail her. She took a bite of the grilled hog.