《Hooves and Whiskers》


 The Forest

    Trees.


    More trees.


    Althea was getting very tired of the boring old trees.


    It had been a week since she left the last remaining village on the outskirts of this forest. Surely the village had some kind of name, but to Althea, it didn¡¯t matter much. All it marked was the last vestige of civilization before heading into this forsaken forest. The locals didn¡¯t seem surprised to see an adventurer heading into the forest. What was worrying is that they didn¡¯t seem to expect her to come back out¡­


    So far, nothing seemed special about the forest. In the early morning, the light flickered through the trees. So far, the forest seemed ordinary¡ªtoo ordinary. No monsters, no rabid packs of wolves, no mysterious enchanters or fae trickery. No towering beasts ¨C at least, not to her eight-foot perspective. What was the deal with this forest? The only real danger so far seems to be wandering, lost, until dying of starvation. She had provisions for another week and at least some hunting skills.


    She occasionally came across signs of previous travelers. Long-forgotten campfires, old machete marks on the trees, and the occasional trash were all that remained. Trails seemed to fade in and out of existence as if they were tired of the forest as well. Althea¡¯s marking on trees to keep herself from going in circles dishearteningly were added to similar marks from those past travelers.


    For months, Althea has been traveling to this far edge of the world. Crossing the ocean, plains, mountains, and less annoying forests, all to get here. Here she might be able to start finding answers. Marcus had told her of an old wizard¡¯s keep, lost to time, deep in these woods. Whatever reason there was for it, or why it was out here so far, or even what wizard order it had belonged to, was lost to time.


    Althea¡¯s tail swished gently, thinking about her old friend Marcus. Ever since she was found in that ¡°orphanage¡± so many years ago, he''s been a mentor to her. He took her in, brought her to his mage hall, and raised her almost as a daughter. Even when her magical ability was non-existent, he still guided her. Studies in language, the arts, and the new sciences (which she admittedly struggled in), all to make her as well-rounded as possible. Althea always felt in the back of her mind that she needed to catch up for those lost years¡­


    A twig snapped. Althea¡¯s ears swiveled to the source of the sound, alert. Althea looked around, hand ready on her sword hilt, ready to face whatever danger was present. But she couldn¡¯t see anything.


    "Hey, hooves! Is there a height requirement to get your attention?"


    Looking down, she saw a red fox sitting smugly beside the twig he had snapped, his tail swishing like he owned the place. Red fur, a big bushy tail tipped with white, and black paws. She seemed to see a touch of gray around his muzzle.


    A talking fox?


    What kind of fae mess is this?


    Althea took her hand off her sword and peered down. "Sorry, I didn¡¯t realize squirrels started talking now."


    ¡°Squirrel? This squirrel has been following your stomping-ness for half an hour now without you noticing. What kind of adventurer are you? Those big pointy ears couldn¡¯t hear me?¡±


    Althea¡¯s face flushed mad red. Her ears were a sore subject. Centaurs all have human ears ¨C except her, and she didn¡¯t know why. ¡°Maybe I was testing you to see what you would do, thinking I was oblivious? To see what kind of cur you really are?¡± she bluffed.


    The fox snorted. ¡°Since you only jumped at the third twig I broke, I doubt that. What is a rookie like you doing lost out in my woods?¡±


    ¡°Your woods? If these are your woods, you¡¯ve got some bland taste.¡±


    Althea wondered ¨C what was this talking fox? She¡¯d been warned about fae taking animal form, trying to trick travelers into giving their names for some kind of magic contract. On the other hand, this loudmouth doesn¡¯t seem very fairy-like. She racked her brain, trying to remember her biology classes. Talking animals existed, but they were exceedingly rare and mostly found on the other side of the ocean. And she¡¯d certainly never heard of rude talking foxes in her travels.


    ¡°These woods are perfectly fine ¨C they¡¯re just not made for all that horsepower. No offense lady, but you¡¯re about as subtle as a rockslide.¡±


    Althea gritted her teeth. I know I¡¯m big, even for a centaur. At least he called me a lady¡­ ¡°Well, at least a rockslide makes an impression. What do you do, charm the trees to death? What do you want, fuzz face?¡±


    ¡°Careful horsey - this fuzzy face has sharp teeth.¡± He said, baring his teeth. Then the fox sighed. ¡°I want my perfectly lovely forest to not get stomped into a meadow by those hooves of yours. If I can help you find what you¡¯re looking for, then maybe some of my underbrush and hunting grounds can survive. What are you looking for?¡±


    Althea considered her options. She thought to herself - was this a trick? Is this annoying fuzzball a fae in disguise trying to catch her soul, or whatever it is fae do? She really regretted skipping that magical creature class now¡­ The fact is, I¡¯m lost. This stupid fox knows I¡¯m lost as well. Why bluff? What is he going to do, gnaw my ankles?


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a lost wizard¡¯s keep. There¡¯s something there that will help my quest.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He knew it. Yet another adventurer looking for the lost keep. He sighed to himself, a little disappointed. He thought this one might be different, not looking for treasure and magical loot. She¡¯s even a bit cute, he shocked himself thinking, in an eight-foot-tall, bulking behemoth horse creature kind of way. ¡°Ah yes, the keep! I can show you right away. We¡¯re only a couple hours from there. I do ask something in return, though¡±. The fox¡¯s eyes sparkled as his tone seemed to change


    Althea groaned. How long had she been circling right next to the blasted keep? ¡°Fine, what do you want, bushy-butt?¡±


    The fox feigned hurt, putting on airs. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I have a quite lovely bushy tail, the envy of many! I just wanted to know the name of the young lady I¡¯ll be escorting to her objective.¡±


    Althea considered the request. Is this a fae, or just an annoying fox? Names are important to the fae. True names, at least¡­ True names give fae some kind of power over you. Oh well, I should be safe, she thought. ¡°Althea¡¯s the name.¡±


    ¡°Just one name? An illustrious lady like yourself surely has more.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you if you tell me yours.¡±


    The fox was surprised. Adventurers never seemed to ask much about him. Use him, yes, try to catch him even, use spells to charm him as a pet, but they never asked his name. He thought for a moment.


    He stood up on his hind legs and bowed, surprising Althea. ¡°Foxey Loxey is the name, and these woods are my game.¡± He fell back to all fours, feeling that old twinge in his back. I¡¯m getting old, he thought. Too old for this game.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fox named Foxey? Really?¡± Althea laughed. ¡°Sure, why not? The way this week is going, why not meet Foxey the Fox? I probably ate some bad berries back there and I¡¯m hallucinating now. Wait, how did you just stand up like that?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯m a talking fox! Of course, I can stand up straight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a talking animal before, let alone a talking fox, in my travels.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t?¡± Foxey now suddenly seemed crestfallen. Althea sensed some despair, even, in him. Interesting, she thought¡­


    He perked back up, putting the act back on. ¡°You still haven¡¯t given me your last name, your horsey-ness. What proud family, or clan, or whatever it is centaurs have, do you come from?¡±


    Althea got shy for a moment. ¡°Stonehoof¡± she mumbled.


    ¡°Athea Stonehoof? A mighty warrior name indeed! Come now, let''s get moving on to the keep before it¡¯s too late in the day.¡± The fox waved her on. Althea followed, carefully, watching out for whatever other surprises the forest may give her.


    The fox led on, trotting through the underbrush and under low branches. Althea swatted away the branches trying to keep up with the little fox. The fox kept prattling on about his forest and how beautiful it was in the spring, occasionally asking Althea about herself. Althea deflected, not trusting this fox. She thought he was up to something and guarded herself, looking all around for an ambush. As she thought this, she turned her head and walked straight into a branch, letting out an impressive series of curses.


    ¡°Trouble up there, rockslide? Is the air too thin up that high up?¡±


    ¡°Shut up yip-yap. I¡¯d rather have the air up here than be down in the mud like you.¡± Athea shot back belatedly.


    ¡°Yip yap? I¡¯ll have you know that a noble creature of my stature does not ¡®yip¡¯¡±.


    ¡°Stature? I¡¯d say two feet if I¡¯m generous.¡± she retorted. I don¡¯t trust this fox, she thought, but at least he¡¯s amusing. Althea had been on the road alone for a while now. At least this fox was more entertaining than some dull villager or a bureaucrat trying to shake her down.


    ¡°How about we stop for some water? There¡¯s a nice stream nearby before we get to the keep.¡±


    Althea hesitated, still wary of trickery. ¡°Lead on, little one.¡±


    ¡°Little? I¡¯m not little, you¡¯re just too big!¡± Foxey protested. ¡°But, even if I was anywhere near your size, I¡¯m sure I wouldn¡¯t stomp around making such a racket.¡±


    ¡°Too bad we¡¯ll never find out,¡± Althea said with a smile. This little fox is feisty, she thought. That could be useful outside this blasted forest.


    Foxey led her to a small stream, running clear and cold. He knelt, lapping up water from the surface. Althea unclipped her canteen from her pack harness. Marcus had given it to her as a gift before she left on this journey. It was the latest thing, far sturdier and more convenient than a skin. She drank the water she had, then looked for a good place to approach the stream. She carefully walked down, gently stepping with her hooves to test how firm the bank was. The stream bubbled gently over smooth stones, its cold, clear water reflecting shards of sunlight that danced like fireflies. Althea knelt cautiously, the damp earth cool under her hooves.


    Just as she dipped the canteen in the water, there was a furry blur in front of her.


    ¡°Are you mad?¡±


    Foxey had spotted a fish and darted for it. He looked up at Althea with a fix in his mouth with a funny look on his face. He took it to the streamside and made short work of the fish, tearing it open and gulping it down. Althea froze, her mind wrestling with the image of the eloquent, almost arrogant fox now reduced to a primal hunter. For a moment, he didn¡¯t seem like a talking animal at all¡ªjust a beast. It was unsettling. She had just started getting used to the idea of a talking, possibly civilized fox. This was not what she expected.


    Foxey, done with his meal, looked up and shook his head. Did I just tear a fish apart and eat it in front of the centaur? Where are my wits? What would Mom say if she was still around? He remembered her old warnings of what could happen to him. He frightened himself, knowing he was losing control again. He washed himself of the blood in the stream and gathered his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did you want one? The carp are quite nice this time of year.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good, fish breath. I prefer my food to be a bit more, you know, cooked. Maybe some celery salt and dill.¡± Althea pondered this little fox some more. What is going on in his fuzzy head? There seems to be far more going on with this fox than meets the eye. Althea filled her canteen while eyeing Foxey. ¡°Let¡¯s get on to the keep.¡±


    Foxey led the way again, looking back at Althea. ¡°About half an hour to go now. What are you looking for, anyway? I¡¯ve never had much interest in the place. It¡¯s just a bunch of old two-legs junk in there anyways.¡±


    ¡°Two-legs?¡± Althea questioned, unsure of the term.


    ¡°You know, you people walking around, always wanting to build things and tear down trees. Always in a rush, making messes.¡±


    ¡°You know I have four legs, right?¡±


    ¡°Details, details. You¡¯re still half two-legs where it counts¡ªup top. All brain, no sense! You only get a slight pass for your majestic hooves.¡±


    Althea thought about this as they walked. She never thought that animals might have a different view of people and their ways. Come to think of it, wouldn¡¯t this fox be a ¡°people¡±? She pondered this as they continued.


    Foxey knew they were getting near the keep. He glanced back at her, his usual spark dimmed. For once, he wasn¡¯t sure if leading her there was the right thing to do.

 The Keep

    Althea followed, fighting through underbrush and low hanging branches. Ahead of her, Foxey slipped through the underbrush with ease, while Althea wrestled with thorns that snagged on her armor and long, braided brown hair like wandering hands. She¡¯s certainly not one of the stealthier ones, he thought.


    He turned his head to look back at her, watching her struggles.  He choked back a laugh.  ¡°It¡¯s not much further now.  What are you looking for in this old ruin, anyways?  I take it this isn¡¯t just a sightseeing trip to trample my lovely forest with your big hooves.¡±  Treasure, enchanted trinkets, battles with fearsome opponents ¨C that¡¯s all these adventurers ever want.


    ¡°I have my reasons.  It¡¯s of no concern to you¡± she said guardedly.


    Foxey scoffed.  ¡°It is my concern if you cause some kind of chaos or unleash some ancient magical nonsense or start getting more two-legs coming out here messing up my forest.¡±


    She stopped, her hands clenched at her sides, glaring down at the fox. The weight of the journey pressed on her shoulders, but she wasn¡¯t about to let this infuriating creature see her doubt.  ¡°I have no desire to do any such thing...  I¡¯m just looking for some information I need and then you can have ¡®your¡¯ damn forest to yourself.  I¡¯m headed back to civilization as fast as I can to get out of this wretched green hell of yours.¡±


    Interesting, he thought.  He knew that everything of value had been long cleaned out of the keep.  Sometimes bands of adventurers came out seeking a dungeon ¨C what¡¯d they call it down there, a lich? ¨C that used to be below the keep.  Solo adventurers were usually looking for loot, but all that was left was cursed.  These wizard people that used to be here must have been unpleasant, but so many people want their old junk.  This is the third adventurer since Fall!  What information could be worth coming all the way out here without treasure or fame?  Maybe I do need to move¡­


    ¡°Well?¡±


    Foxey snapped out of his wandering thoughts as he realized she was still staring at him.  Keep it together, it¡¯s almost game time.  ¡°I apologize, my fair equine lady!  Let¡¯s get you that information so you can escape this ¡®green hell¡¯ I call home.¡±


    The fox continued forward, slipping through a dense blackberry hedge in their path.  Althea fought through it, using her sword as a machete to hack through.  Once on the other side, she found herself on a clear trail with the keep just a hundred yards away.


    ¡°@#$%!¡± she cursed out of exasperation.  ¡°Are you telling me there was a trail here the whole time?¡± Her voice was low, dangerously so.


    ¡°Always has been.  I was wondering why you were so far from it.¡± he chuckled softly, then thought better of it.  ¡°I figured you were enjoying the sights and sounds of nature.¡±  Dreadfully lost, Foxey thought.  There¡¯s no way she¡¯s a professional adventurer.  At least their guild sends them with maps at least ¨C I¡¯ve found enough to know.


    Althea sighed and shook her head.  ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±  She trotted down the trail past Foxey to the ruined open gate of the keep.  Foxey silently watched as she went by, her chainmail and tack jingling on her relatively new looking armor, tail swishing at flies trying to get under her barding.  She looked proud, but not arrogant.  Not malicious like the usual lot that came through.


    Who is this? he thought.  Not a professional adventurer, not a looter, yet well equipped.  She¡¯s even put up with my schtick.  She¡¯s young, but not particularly na?ve.  She probably would just leave when she finds whatever she¡¯s looking for.  That¡¯s not my choice though¡­


    Foxey sprinted down the trail to catch up with her.  ¡°Wait up!  I want to help you with your quest.¡±


    ¡°Why? To get me out of your fluff faster?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wandering around this old dump for years.  I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve seen whatever is you¡¯re looking for.¡±  Foxey thought for a moment, ¡°And you seem like an alright kind of person to help out.¡±


    Althea¡¯s face relaxed, looking at the fox with her soft brown eyes.  ¡°Thank you.  And¡­ I¡¯m sorry for calling you¡¯re home a ¡®green hell¡¯.¡±  Then smirking, she continued ¡°It¡¯s probably all a fuzzball like you knows.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right ¨C I¡¯ve never left the forest,¡± he said wistfully, looking away from her.


    ¡°Never?¡±


    In a somber tone he remarked, ¡°Born and raised right here.¡±  Althea thought he seemed lost in memories, then he perked himself up.  ¡°Why would I ever leave?  This forest is great!  The world outside surely can¡¯t compare.¡±


    Althea wasn¡¯t so convinced.  Guardedly, she says ¡°Sounds like you at least have a family to keep you company.¡±


    That got a response from the fox, looking back up at her with slitted eyes.  ¡°No, not anymore,¡± he said through clenched teeth.


    Althea decided to leave that alone.  There¡¯s nothing out here but trees.  I¡¯d be bored to madness out here alone.  How long has he been out here?


    The two strode onward, up to the gate of the keep.  The keep had seen far better centuries.  In its prime, the structure wasn¡¯t particularly grand, but solid, serving whatever purpose it had in the past.  The broken ramparts loomed like teeth with a questionable dental history.  The crumbling walls and twisted vines, looking like varicose veins, opened into a ruined, rotted old gate.  The air was thick with the smell of dampness and mold.


    ¡°Looks like this saw fireballs in the past,¡± she said, looking up as they went under the archway.  ¡°You can still see the scorches where it¡¯s been protected from the weather.¡±


    She knows what wizard fireball scorches look like, but doesn¡¯t see the tracks on the ground?  the fox wondered.  Those footprints are from today. They¡¯re nearby.


    Walking into the courtyard, her horseshoes scraped on the ancient flagstones making an unpleasant noise, putting the fox¡¯s ears back.  ¡°Are those always so loud?  Is there an off switch for those clompers, or do we just embrace the fact that everything in a mile radius knows you¡¯re here?¡±


    Thinking about this, Althea dug into her pack, pulling out what looked like rubber hooves.  She set them on the stone of the courtyard, then stepped each hoof into one.  Lifting one hoof again, she stomped it down in an exaggerated clop.  With the rubber overshoes, there was barely any noise at all.  ¡°Is that better for those sensitive ears, fuzz-face?  We wouldn¡¯t want the rats to hear me stomp-stomping around¡± she said, rolling her eyes.


    Foxey was impressed.  She came prepared at least; he mused.  Physically, if not quite mentally.  Putting his ears back again, he said with an exaggerated grimace ¡°That is a lot better, Rockslide.  If you¡¯ll excuse me for a moment, though, I have something to attend to.  That carp isn¡¯t sitting too well if you know what I mean.  I¡¯ll catch back up ¨C the library is on the left, through that second archway.  If you want information, that¡¯s where it would be.¡±


    He scurried off, up treacherous old stairs leading to the ramparts.  ¡°Serves you right for gobbling that carp down, fish breath!¡± she yelled as he ran off.


    Looking around, Althea took in the sight.  Old, worn flagstones wound paths through the courtyard.  Remnants of an old stone fountain stood in the center, with collapsed benches around.  The paths surrounding the fountain wound in curious loops, tracing what looked like a sigil.  Marcus would know what this meant, she sighed.  She wished her mentor could be with her.  So far, the only company she¡¯s had on this journey is hassle from tax collectors, unwanted inept flirting in taverns, and now a rude, colicky critter.  Thinking of Marcus helped to focus her on her quest.  He said there should be valuable information here.  The old order that built this place were meticulous with record keeping.  Seeing the archway the fox described, she carefully walked on the flagstones across the courtyard, avoiding the tall grass.  There are probably snakes in the grass, knowing how this has gone so far.


    Foxey watched from the ramparts as she stepped her hooves high around the grass between the flagstones, right hand on her sword hilt.  Fine muscles she has, he thought absentmindedly.  Too bad that armor covers so much.  I wonder what¡¯s under there¡­ He shook his head, remembering what he was up there to do.  Once he was sure she wasn¡¯t looking towards him, he carefully gripped an old beam with his paws, muscles struggling to raise it into the designated position like so many times before.  He silently padded down back into the courtyard, then made more noise as he crossed the square as she approached the doorway.


    ¡°Back from your carp cramps already?¡±


    ¡°Um, yeah, feeling a lot better now¡± speaking uneasily, rubbing his ear and neck with his right paw.  ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re right about taking the time to cook.¡±


    Althea stooped down under the arch, peering into the dark doorway.  The door had undoubtedly been smashed long ago.  ¡°Short humans, never building things tall enough,¡± she muttered, carefully walking inside the corridor.  As she stepped through, she banged her head on a beam as she straightened back up.  Unpublishable curses followed.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Having problems up there, tall stuff?¡± he laughed, flicking his tail.


    Rubbing her head gingerly, she snapped at the fox ¡°You call it bumping my head. I call it a perspective problem you¡¯ll never have.¡±


    Looking down the corridor, Althea could see several doorways on each side before it all faded to darkness.  Rummaging through yet another pack on her side, she found a candle in a holder.  At least being a centaur gives you lots of cargo capacity.  Using a sulfur match she lit the candle, providing some flickering illumination in the gloom.


    Foxey was already further down the corridor, past where Althea could see, even with the candle.  He turned to look at her with his now glowing eyes.  ¡°From my perspective, there¡¯s plenty of light.  You can¡¯t see in a little dark?¡±  Shaking her head wordlessly, she followed him, wary of whatever dangers ¨C or ceiling beams ¨C may lie in her path.


    Faded exhibits still hung in places on the wall, along with mostly empty nooks inset in the stone.  Some of the displays seemed to warn of workplace safety ¨C one read ¡®PRAY THEE CAST FIRE WITHIN THE DESIGNATED ZONES!  Lest thy flame mar the tapestries or roast thy fellows.¡¯  Another read ¡®If thy potion goeth awry, let the logbook tell thee why!¡®  Intact doors blocked off mysteries she didn¡¯t want to explore.  Being taken in and raised by wizards taught her a solid appreciation to not muck about with the refuse they left behind.  Losing your eyebrows for a month from an explosion makes an impact on a teenage girl.


    Around the corner, the corridor widened to a set of double doors, one barely hanging from ancient hinges.  Foxey turned, standing up on his hind legs again, and pointed his ¨C thumb!? ¨C at the entranceway.  ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of dusty old boring dry books in there.  Be careful with that candle, thunder hooves ¨C we don¡¯t want to burn the place down.¡±


    ¡°Hold up,¡± said Althea, bending down to take a closer look at the fox in the dim candlelight.  ¡°You have thumbs?¡±


    Foxey wiggled his right paw, showing off far greater flexibility and dexterity than a paw had any right to have.  It was like a little furry hand that looked like a normal fox paw when not being flexed.  ¡°*sigh* I¡¯m just that amazing.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± she muttered.  ¡°Here I am trying to find this book and do my quest while being distracted by a cursed fox.  Going great, Althea.¡±  Ducking her head, she entered the library, peering at the dusty shelves in the dim light.  Old, filthy windows let in light from far above, supplemented by an ominous soft glow coming from some of the books, pulsing like heartbeats.  One of the books, chained to a pedestal, gave a slight rattle as she carefully stepped by, placing each hoof with care watching for signs of traps.  Althea felt like the glowing books were watching her.  The air in the library was thick with the scent of mildew and faint traces of burning oil as if the ghosts of old lanterns still lingered. Shadows flickered oddly in the dim light, playing tricks on her eyes.


    Cursed fox, he thought to himself sadly as he followed, back on four legs.  He rubbed his back in that old spot that always knotted up when he stood on his hind legs.  Dad told me stories of the old days when our kitsune ancestors were feared and adored. All that history, and here I am - just a ¡®cursed¡¯ fox alone in a forest no one cares about.  The only reason anyone ever comes here is this blasted keep.  Why am I trying to show off for this girl?  She¡¯s just another adventurer looking for fame or fortune.  She¡¯s probably about to get herself cursed in here messing with some magic tome.  She¡¯ll be frozen into a statue, transformed into a bug, or locked in some parallel dimension like that dwarf last year.  He was so lost in thought that he walked straight into her hind left leg.


    ¡°So much for that dark vision, fuzz brain.¡±


    He looked up at her, her body towering above him as she looked back and down at him, stepping her hoof forward, away from him.  Her tail swished slowly in annoyance, one ear swiveled backward, the other staying forward¡ªan unsubtle hint that Foxey had crossed a line.  ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever heard of personal space?  Do they not teach that in the woods?¡±


    Foxey¡¯s ears drooped, folding against his head as he glanced away, tail tucked between his legs. ¡°I was lost in thought.  I didn¡¯t mean to upset you,¡± he mumbled.


    Shaking her head, she looked back at the shelves.  Foxey noticed that they were deep into the library, past all the tantalizing magic tomes.  The air was permeated with the smell of mildew and old paper.  A sign hung overhead; its surface worn smooth over time. The words ''Scholarly Treatises and Research Periodicals'' glimmered faintly, written in the precise, meticulous strokes of a long-dead scribe.


    Foxey blinked in surprise as Althea reached for a thick journal, its leather binding cracked but intact, with pages brimming with diagrams and tightly packed text. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, watching as she blew a cloud of dust off the cover.


    ¡°Looking for answers,¡± she said simply, flipping through the annotated pages with a practiced hand, squinting at the text.  ¡°Not everything worth finding glows or hums, you know.¡±


    Frowning, she put the book down.  Reaching back into her pack, she pulls out a set of spectacles with a clip in the middle. I hate wearing these things.  Such a fierce centaur warrior with nearsightedness?  Placing them on her nose, she gives another sharp look at Foxey.  ¡°Not a word¡±, she hissed.


    Foxey stood silent, taking a step back, tail twitching.  Ignoring the obvious (albeit cursed) loot?  What kind of adventurer is this?  I¡¯ve seen dozens of treasure-seekers scour this place, their eyes gleaming at glowing orbs and cursed trinkets. None of them had ever given these dusty tomes a second glance. What kind of adventurer wastes time with boring old books? He continued to watch, laying down in a comfortable position, as she combed the shelves.  Althea muttered to herself, frustrated, as she went from book to book, not finding what she was looking for.  He noticed that she seemed to be ignoring the lower shelves.  With her impressive height, centaur physiology seemed to be a challenge when reaching the bottom shelves.


    ¡°Need a shorter perspective? I could save you the trouble of crushing those shelves under those hooves.¡± said the fox.


    Annoyed, she started to respond curtly, then paused to reconsider, glaring down at him, spectacles slipping slightly. ¡°Can you even read, fuzzy?¡±


    ¡°How rude!  Of course, I can read.  What do you think I am, some ignorant animal?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied.


    Foxey¡¯s ears flattened, his pride clearly wounded. ¡°For your information, I¡¯ve read more books than most two-legs have hairs on their heads.¡± He sat up straighter, tail flicking, chest puffed up. ¡°I¡¯m practically a scholar."


    ¡°Then put that scholarly nose to use and find me some useful research,¡± she said, exasperated.


    ¡°Research about what?  Stereotypes and discrimination against the small?¡±


    ¡°About centaurs.¡±


    Puzzled, the fox tilted his head.  ¡°You are a centaur.  Don¡¯t centaurs know about centaurs?¡±


    ¡°Not about my kind of centaur.¡±


    ¡°Your kind of centaur?  The rude kind?  I¡¯m sure your parents could explain that¡± said the fox, looking at her amusedly.


    Even more annoyed now, Althea takes a deep breath, then starts again, staring at the aggravating fuzzball. ¡°You¡¯re assuming I ever had parents.  Either help or get out of my way.¡±


    With that cryptic answer, Foxey decided to not push any further.  Never had parents.  How can someone not ever have had parents?  She didn¡¯t say they were gone ¨C but that they didn¡¯t exist.  No parents and centaurs don¡¯t know what ¡®kind¡¯ she is. Foxey¡¯s tail twitched uncomfortably. There¡¯s more to this centaur than she was letting on.  Or that she even knows.  Foxey started down the shelves, looking for any books that seemed promising.  As he found books that seemed promising, he would work them out of the shelf with his paws onto the floor so he could flip through the pages.  The big tomes were difficult for him to move around, but he was determined to not get jokes from the centaur.


    As they searched, Althea exclaimed ¡°Aha!  Found it!¡±  She held up a decayed old volume for Foxey to see - ¡®The Convergence of Forms: Preliminary Studies in the Synthesis of Living and Other Essences¡¯.  Her fingers traced the faded title. The air felt heavier, her chest tightening with both hope and dread. What if this book had answers she wasn¡¯t ready for?  Or if it was just another dead end?  Hoppe and fear of disappointment battled in her chest.


    Althea¡¯s heart pounded as she stared at the title. This was it¡ªa step closer to understanding my origin.  Taking the book to a nearby table, she opens it, looking to find some details to help her on the way.  The fox left the book he was going through ¨C ¡®The Bestiary of Enigmatic Entities ¨C and hopped up on the table to see what she was looking at.  As Althea went through the book, she found densely packed pages, filled with diagrams and handwritten notes in a meticulous script. The illustrations were strange¡ªtwisting, almost grotesque depictions of creatures that seemed to straddle the line between human and animal.


    The book ended abruptly with the line: ¡®Conclusive experiments moved to ***REDACTED*** under the directive of the Research Committee.  All further research is classified to be stored at ***REDACTED***.   This volume contains only preliminary findings.¡¯  The redacted letters had a faint glow, showing there was more than just some ink involved.


    ¡°Son of a @#$%!¡± she cried.  Why did these damn old wizards have to be so secretive?  Why is it trying to find where I come from so difficult?  What were those old bastards doing?  Calming down, she says aloud ¡°This will get me closer.  I¡¯ll have to get help from Marcus about this.¡±  Marcus had always been the one to guide me, to help me make sense of the world. If anyone could unravel these mysteries, it was him.  She wraps the old book in some cloth and carefully puts it in her pack.  The sun outside the dirt-stained windows is getting low in the sky.  I don¡¯t want to be around this keep when night falls.  Who knows what might come out of the shadows?  Putting away her glasses and grabbing her candle, she looks at Foxey perched on the table.  ¡°You¡¯ll be rid of me now.  You can have your glorious forest to yourself and scarf down as many fish as you want in peace.¡±


    As Althea excitedly trotted off down the aisle towards the exit, Foxey watched with growing panic.  She¡¯s harmless.  She isn¡¯t like all the others.  He wanted to turn away, to pretend she was just another adventurer passing through. But the look in her eyes when she found that book¡ªshe wasn¡¯t here for glory. And that was what scared him most.  But how can I stop this?  Foxey scurried after her, ignoring the twinge in his back.  ¡°Wait up!  I¡¯ll escort you out.  I¡¯ve got to make sure you don¡¯t bumble around and get lost again.¡±


    Giving him some side-eye, Althea said ¡°Sure¡­ little fuzzball¡¯s going to keep me safe.  Fine. Tag along if you want, fuzzball. Just don¡¯t slow me down.¡±  She was going too quickly in the dark corridor, overconfident.  Foxey struggled to keep up.


    ¡°You sure you¡¯re in such a rush to leave?  There might be more useful information here.¡±


    ¡°Marcus told me that this was the best I could hope to find here.  Everything else that¡¯s left of value by now would be booby-trapped or cursed.  I¡¯ve got to get this to him to find out the next clue.  He can figure out what¡¯s under that redacted line!¡±


    She¡¯s excited, too eager.  So young and hopeful he thinks mournfully.  She sure puts a lot of stock in this Marcus guy.  Wherever he is, he can¡¯t help her now.  Approaching the sunlit doorway to the courtyard, the smell hit him first¡ªacrid, pungent, unmistakable. Foxey¡¯s fur bristled as he glanced ahead, ears twitching, hearing the faint sound she was not paying attention to.  His paws were itching with the need to act.  Centaurs must have just as bad a sense of smell as the two-legs.  His stomach is churning, but not from the low-quality fish.  She wasn¡¯t like the others. She wasn¡¯t here for greed or fame. Foxey shook his head. No, he couldn¡¯t let this happen¡ªnot again.  I can¡¯t let this happen!


    As she trotted along, she turned towards the fox.  ¡°So, let me get this straight.  Are you sticking with the story that you¡¯re a fox named Foxey?  Foxey the Fox?  You¡¯d have to have the most unimaginative parents in the history, of, well ¨C ¡°


    As Althea ducked down to get through the arch to the courtyard, he knew it was now or never.


    ¡°Althea - watch out!¡±