Lucky Rabbit

It took a long time for Thaniel to fall asleep, and Pandy kept waiting for whatever sign was supposed to tell her it was time to go, but none came. It was nearly eleven by the time the boy’s lashes fell to curl along his cheek, and even his fitful tossing stilled into the silence of deep sleep. Only a few minutes later, the door swung open.

Pandy almost didn’t notice it, tucked as she was beneath Thaniel’s arm, but some subtle change in the way the faint light fell drew her gaze. Then she wiggled free and hopped down, squeezing through the small gap. Once she was in the hall, the door clicked closed behind her, bumping her rear as it did so, and Pandy looked up and down the dim hallway.

Nothing moved, but unless Pandy counted the secret passage, there was only one way out of the hall, so she headed right and hopped down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. As she reached the first floor, something creaked softly to her left, and she turned to see that the door between the hall and the foyer had opened just like the one to Thaniel’s room.

Again, she hopped forward, and again received a rather rude bump to her behind as she passed through. Was someone trying to tell her to hurry up, or were they just laughing at her? If it was Beeswick, the answer was probably all of the above.

The front door was open as well, and this time Pandy avoided the posterior prod by leaping through, only to find herself snatched from midair by two taloned feet that latched around her middle. Pandy squealed in surprise, and the talons spasmed, but fortunately did not release her, since they were already a good fifteen feet above the ground.

Once again, Rabbit Vision saved the day, because even though the thing that had hold of her was almost directly overhead, Pandy’s wide-spaced eyes allowed her to make out bat-like wings flapping to either side, and a long neck leading to a reptilian head stretched out in front. The thing carrying her was one of the elementals Professor Beeswick had called Skyrils, and in the deep darkness of full night, its rich, gray-blue coloring would make it all but invisible.

They flew long enough that Pandy actually started to relax and enjoy the experience. It was really pleasant watching the city pass by beneath her, and feeling the wind blow through her fur – though she could have done without her ears flapping in the breeze. Now that she knew Thaniel was safe, with people watching out for him, and he wouldn’t worry too much while she was gone, she needed to start using Wings of Glory to get far enough from the school so she could grind some of her larger, more obvious skills. Maybe she could even-

The Skyril dropped her. One minute they were flying along, the wind creating a soothing white noise in her ears, and the next she was falling. she thought, limbs flailing. Nothing happened except that she landed on something that gave beneath her, stretched, then flung her back upwards. Pandy fell, bounced, fell, bounced, until she finally came to a halt, quivering and terrified, in the center of whatever it was the horrible, nasty little elemental had dumped her onto. She supposed she should be glad it hadn’t just let her go splat, but somehow gratitude wasn’t the first emotion she felt when thinking of it.

Slowly, she crawled forward, every step feeling like whatever she was on would finally give way beneath her. It didn’t, though, and eventually she came to the edge and peered over. She was on top of an awning, and several people sat beneath it, including one man who was staring straight up at her.

Pandy jerked away, nearly tumbling over as the awning dipped, rolling her backwards. A guffaw came from below, followed by a slurred sentence, not a single word of which was intelligible. She crept forward again, and this time when she looked, the man gave her a huge, goofy grin, flicking his fingers in a very wobbly sort of salute. He said something, but it was just gibberish, and she finally noticed the large tankard sitting on the table in front of him.

He was drunk, which was good, because not only was it unlikely that anyone would listen to him, he probably wouldn’t believe himself, even if he remembered this in the morning. Pandy lifted a paw, waving back, then moved a little further forward and made a ‘come here’ gesture with her paws. The man’s brows shot up, and he pointed to himself in a universal, ‘who me?’

Pandy nodded, and he looked around, probably wondering if other people were seeing this. Realizing that no one was paying attention, he shrugged and stood, staggering closer. Pandy waited until he was almost directly beneath her before attempting to jump down, using him as an intermediate step between the awning and the ground.

Of course, it was only an attempt, because first, he moved, and second, Pandy no longer had thirty points of Agility. Rather than executing a graceful leap using his head as a landing pad, Pandy found her back paw caught in the awning, and she tumbled ears over tail to land on the drunken man’s face. One paw went in his mouth, which was probably open in order to utter a surprised yell at finding himself with a faceful of hare, and she felt her toes squish against his tongue. With a disgusted squeal, Pandy threw herself away from him, landing on something hard, wooden, and covered in more tankards.

Masculine yells surrounded her as beer sloshed and chairs were shoved away from the table. Pandy found herself soaked in liquid and dodging grasping hands. One man managed to grab her ear, but it squelched from his fingers, and she was on the ground and running, bouncing off people and objects alike as she darted for a hole in a nearby fence. Something tugged at her tail as she slipped through like a greased pig, complete with high-pitched squealing, and what sounded like fists striking wood came from behind her.

Pandy found herself in what had probably once been an alley, but was now closed off on each end by high fences. A few crates were stacked by one door, covered by what looked like a blanket, which presumably had some water-resistant functionality. On each side were doors, and each door had a very large, very serious-looking keyhole beneath the handle.

She huddled against the far wall, staring wide-eyed at the shuddering fence, until the banging stopped, the shouting died down, and the grumbling faded. Beyond the barrier, wood scraped over stone again, and someone called for more beer. It seemed that a bungling, booze-befouled bunny wasn’t worth their time when there was real drinking to be done.

Reminded, Pandy wrinkled her nose, smelling the sour, hoppy stench of beer practically radiating off of her. She was completely drenched, and the mud left behind by a day of drizzle now covered her in a thick brown muck. Tentatively, she tried to lick her paw, but immediately stopped. She had once ingested a potion made of mud and blood, but somehow this was even more vile. Worse, the only benefit she’d get was becoming ever so slightly cleaner, and it just wasn’t worth it.

Resolutely, Pandy ignored the condition of her fur and looked around, hoping to figure out where she was. It would help if she knew she’d been dropped here intentionally, but there was always the possibility that she’d simply slipped from the Skyril’s claws, and she was still far from where she needed to be.

Then the door to her left opened, and a hand extended into the alley. It lifted the cloth covering the crates with the familiarity of long practice, and pulled out a sack that puffed white dust as the lid fell back down on top of it. An irritated voice said, “I got the flour, Alfie! Get back to those dishes. Dunno what those fools were talking about, sayin’ a rabbit fell from the sky, but now we need a full round of clean mugs.”

“Why they gotta be clean?” another voice whined. “Just-”

The door closed, leaving Pandy to wonder what option the speaker was about to offer, but honestly just as glad not to know. She was well aware that the things that happened in restaurant kitchens should stay in restaurant kitchens. The important thing was what had been revealed when the cloth covering the stack of wooden boxes was moved. Words. Specifically, what looked like a sort of packing label.

Pandy hopped forward, stretching up so she could nose aside the fabric. Yes, there were definitely words there, actually burned into the wood, though not very deeply. The marks were only slightly darker than the rest of the rain-dampened wood, but by getting up close and reading very slowly, Pandy was able to make out what she thought were a D, an E, and an N. Den. As in Rabbit’s Den? As in, the white powder now smeared down the side of the crate was flour, used to make the tavern’s famous rolls, which went along with their sour beer, which now covered Pandy from ears to tail?

If so, then the Skyril had done a remarkably good job of getting Pandy exactly where she needed to go. She would have preferred if it had landed, or at least brought her closer to the ground before dropping her, but frankly, this was a real improvement on her usual luck. Now, how did she get into the tavern without being noticed? She doubted if they’d need another bag of flour anytime soon, which meant that door would probably remain closed for the foreseeable future.

Closed, yes, but was it locked? Pandy hadn’t heard a click after it shut, and it sounded like the flour-fetcher was distracted, to say the least. Given that this courtyard was fully enclosed, and the fences on each end were high enough that none of the men whose beer Pandy had inadvertently spilled were able to see over it, what were the odds that the people who worked at the Rabbit’s Den always remembered to lock the door? Having worked at more than one small, busy shop, Pandy was willing to bet that the answer was ‘very low’.

Now, if this was indeed a hideout for the Shadow Exchange, that would probably shift those odds rather significantly, but Pandy was guessing that if it was a hideout, the regular workers like Alfie – and possibly the bag-bearer – were peripherally involved at most. Which meant that Pandy might be in luck.

Just thinking the words made her wince, but Pandy gathered herself and thought, Her hind legs bunched, propelling her upwards…straight past the handle and beyond, until she reached the summit of her leap just above the roof of the single-story building, and over the fence, her eyes met those of the same man who’d seen her when she landed on the awning.

Pandy’s ears went up, the rest of her went down, and she was utterly unable to resist the urge to wave at the man as she fell. His slack-jawed expression was still burned into her mind as she dropped below the rooftop, barely remembering to grab for the handle as she went by. Her paws slipped right off again, but it turned, and the angle of her descent tugged the door open ever so slightly.

That definitely wasn’t a level one Hop, but Pandy didn’t have time to think about that as she pushed the door open with her nose and scurried into the hot, humid environs of the kitchen. The scent of yeast – from both beer and bread – assaulted her nose, threatening to make her sneeze, but through a valiant effort she managed to suppress it.

People bustled around, amazingly awake and busy, given that it was probably close to midnight. Pandy had worked more than one night-shift job, since those were the least popular hours among workers who had more seniority than two days, but she inevitably fell asleep, sometimes while standing up. All of these people looked as conscious and functional as if it were ten AM on a Tuesday, but thankfully they were all focused on their tasks, and not on the rabbit that was creeping around the edges of the room.

At least, they weren’t until one flour-dusted and apple-cheeked girl shrieked, “Rat!” and swatted Pandy with a broom.