The Prisoner's Release and Other Stories (27 page)

When he burst through the door, the cool air felt so good that he stopped, sank to his knees, and panted. It was only when he looked up through blurry eyes and saw the watery shapes of the rabbit and others holding back that he realized he was still closer to the fire than he should be. He staggered to his feet and lurched forwards. The rush of adrenalin had left him, and his legs shook suddenly. He felt exhausted.

Arms surrounded him, then, taking Mikka gently from his arms and wiping his fur. He collapsed again, taking in huge shuddering breaths of the cool evening air. When his throat allowed him to speak, he rasped, “Is he alive?”

Nobody answered. He asked the question again, searching the muzzles around him. “Is he alive?”

A female goat patted his shoulder. “I’ll go look.”

“
That was very brave,” another female voice said. He smelled fox and leaned in that direction, and was met by soft paws that held him up. “Do you want to lie down?” the voice said again.

“
My throat hurts,” he said, coughing.

“
Someone’s gone for the surgeon,” the fox told him.

“
Mikka needs it more.” It was important to make them understand that.

“
Shh, it’s okay. Don’t hurt your throat.” The fox patted his ears and smoothed them back.

A moment later, the female goat was back. “They think he’s alive.”

Think?

“
There’s the surgeon,” someone else called. “This way, this way!”

“
Go to Mikka first,” Jonas said, swallowing against the fire in his throat.

“
He is. Shh.” The fox smoothed his ears again.

He tried opening his eyes, and blinked away enough water to see around him. The arms holding him belonged to a petite red fox. The goat, seeing his eyes open, was holding up a cloth to wipe them. He allowed her to, just as he heard a crash amidst the roar behind him. Someone said, “There goes the window.”

Black and white loomed behind the goat. “What happened?” Hazel said. “Was there a fox inside?”

“
Over there,” the vixen said just as Jonas waved.

“
I’ll be right back,” Hazel said, bending down to Jonas. “You just relax.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the pain in his throat and lungs.

The smell of skunk returned some minutes later. “He’s okay,” she said. “They’re taking him to my place. Can you walk?”

Jonas nodded. He got to his feet with the help of the fox and Hazel, and wiped his eyes again. “I can make it.” He found if he whispered, it didn’t hurt his throat as much.

“
Don’t talk.” Doctor Hewill was there at his side. “Let your throat rest.”

He started to say “okay,” then just nodded. With gestures, he made them understand that he wanted to see Mikka, and they slowed until the three people carrying the fox caught up with them. Ash drifted down from the fox’s fur onto the blanket they were using to carry him. Someone had draped a shirt over his midsection, for modesty. Jonas looked at the unconscious fox’s muzzle.

Hewill followed his gaze. “I think he’ll be all right. He’ll need rest for a while and he might have breathing problems. Depends how much smoke got into him. But he’ll survive. Thanks to you.”

By the time they reached the house, two guards had joined them and were asking questions of some of the people in their group. The rabbit who’d first talked to Jonas had smelled the fire, but hadn’t seen anything suspicious. When Jonas heard the guards asking questions, he waved Hazel over from where she was serving cakes to the people who’d come into the house.

“
Oh,” she said when she saw the guards, “Jonas here surprised a thief breaking into the house. He said the thief set the fire.”

“
Can you describe the thief?” the stag guard asked.

Jonas nodded. “Raccoon,” he rasped. “Thin. Smelled…smoke.” He mimed the raccoon’s height.

“
Okay.” The stag took a note. “And why d’you think there’s a connection to the clothes shop?”

“
Lunch,” he said, and coughed. “Saw him...following Mikka.”

“
Why didn’t you do something then?”

Jonas shrugged, and Hazel said, “No reason to do anything then, was there?” Jonas shook his head.

“
All right. Anything else?”

Jonas and Hazel exchanged looks, and Jonas could see that Hazel wanted to accuse Dixan of this. He did too, more than anything, but they had no proof. She shook her head minutely, and he nodded agreement. “That’s all,” Hazel said.

The other guard, a bobcat, piped up. “What was he after here?”

“
Jonas has a lot of money upstairs. Any of his clients could have known that.” Hazel put a thick paw on Jonas’s shoulder.

“
Clients?”

“
I’ll tell you later,” the stag said to the bobcat, but there was no scorn in his voice. “I think that’s all we can do. We’ll keep an eye out.”

“
Thanks,” Jonas rasped, and Hazel clamped a paw around his muzzle.

“
Quiet. No more talking! You want to ruin your voice forever?”

“
Mm-mmm.” He shook his head and smiled at her.

“
Okay. Get to bed then.”

Mikka was to stay in Selia’s chambers, at her insistence. She had stayed behind to look after Selish, but still apologized over and over again for not coming to help, and nothing would satisfy her but giving up her bed to the convalescent. She and Jonas spent the next day setting up his apartment to return to their previous arrangement, while Mikka rested in Hazel’s main room.

At an hour after sunrise, Mikka woke up. Jonas was sitting with him, as Hazel had been up most of the night. Jonas was just preparing to drip some water into his muzzle, as the doctor had instructed them to do, when the fox’s amber eyes opened and looked up at his.

“
Wh--?” Mikka tried to form a question, but the words came out as a guttural croak.

“
Shh.” Jonas touched a paw to the fox’s lips and offered him the cup of water. While Mikka was drinking, Jonas walked quickly to get Hazel.

He couldn’t stay through the whole story. Mikka didn’t remember anything, so Hazel told him as much as she knew, which unfortunately included glowing accounts of Jonas’s heroism. Jonas stepped into the other room to take a drink—he’d been ordered to drink plenty of water as well—but he could still hear Hazel going on about how brave he’d been. He sighed and let the cool water run down his throat. How could he tell Mikka that he hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been particularly brave at all? That his action didn’t mean anything except that he didn’t want any more lives on his conscience?

And, more importantly, was that all it meant?

He sighed. Hazel was making it sound like he was one of those heroes from the old stories, rescuing the poor helpless maiden from the clutches of the evil wizards. Thing was, in those stories, the hero always married the maiden. He looked out the window and brooded over how to dispel that expectation, if Mikka showed any signs of holding it.

Hazel called him into the back room again. He gulped more water and then padded back in.

“
I need to go finish the baking and the chores,” she said. “I’ll postpone your appointments. You’ll stay back here?”

He nodded. Mikka wasn’t looking at him. He sat down next to the fox as Hazel left the room, and didn’t say anything.

Mikka turned, saw him, and looked like he was forcing a smile. He reached out and squeezed Jonas’s paw, then closed his eyes and sighed.

If Jonas had expected adulation, clearly he was not going to get it. For a moment, he resented the fox’s detachment. Hadn’t he risked his life? Wasn’t that worth more than a forced smile? It took him a moment to realize that Mikka had just been told that his shop—his designs, his clothes, all his personal possessions; in fact, his whole life—had been destroyed. Jonas felt deeply ashamed of his selfishness.

“
Sorry,” he croaked.

Mikka opened his eyes and managed another smile. He put a finger to his lips, and nodded.

But Jonas couldn’t stop thinking about it, wondering what Mikka would do next, what he
could
do next. He remembered that feeling of not knowing that he’d had not so long ago, and how Mikka had helped him out.

“
I’ll help,” he whispered, and took the fox’s paw.

Mikka opened his eyes, smiled, and squeezed back.

That made two things he had to do, Jonas reflected later that day, while Selia was sitting with Mikka. He had to help Mikka get back on his feet, and he had to put a stop to the lawyer’s threat.

He wished he had any idea of how to do either of those.

He thought about that all day and evening, and all through dinner. His throat gave him a convenient excuse to remain quiet, so he half-listened to the others’ conversation. And every so often, he looked at Mikka, who had gotten up in the afternoon and spent the entire meal staring down at his plate.

The next day, Jonas resumed taking clients, and sat with Mikka when he could. The grey fox was quiet most of the time, remaining in his bed and only getting up to eat. Hazel and Jonas talked quietly about him that night.

“
We have to do something to help him,” Jonas said.

“
You’re right,” Hazel said. “A few months ago, I wouldn’ have said so.”

“
Why?”

She shrugged. “We drifted apart. He came to my parties, but no more’n that. Didn’t come to more than one dinner a year. ’Til you moved in.”

“
We’re just friends,” he said automatically, then flicked his ears at the look on Hazel’s muzzle. “What?”

She pointed at him. “You pulled him outta that burnin’ building. You saved his life. Ain’t no gettin’ around that.”

“
I would’ve done that for any of my friends. I’d do it for you. If I could lift you.”

“
Don’t change the subject. You’re responsible for him.”

“
Responsible?” For a tense moment he thought she was going to bring up Dixan, rubbing salt in his guilt.

“
For his life. That’s what Cougar would tell you.”

“
Oh.” He shifted in his seat. Adding responsibility didn’t make his guilt any less. “Maybe he can stay here. Take Tapha’s apartment when he leaves.”

Hazel nodded. “He’s sure welcome to, but how will he pay rent?”

“
Well…he’ll start working on designs again. Won’t he?”

“
He lost all his tools, all his materials,” Hazel said. “An’ he sure don’t look like he wants to start working again.”

“
Give him a couple days.”

“
Maybe.” She shrugged. “He’s takin’ it pretty hard.”

“
So what can we do for him?”

“
We gotta be good friends,” she gave him just a hint of a smile as she emphasized the word, “show him that he’s still got breath in him. Take him to services, maybe that’ll help.” She looked as doubtful as Jonas felt at the idea of Mikka being inspired by religion.

“
That doesn’t sound like very much.”

“
May not sound like it,” Hazel said, “but love can be pretty powerful.”

Jonas felt his fur prickle. “I—”

“
Oh, hush,” Hazel interrupted. “Friends can love each other too. I love that fox just like I love you and that mouse and her kit.”

“
All right.” Jonas grinned.

“’
Sides, that’s about all we can do for Mikka. Can’t get his store back.”

Jonas shook his head, and went off to sleep. He didn’t sleep right away, though. Replaying the conversation in his head, he thought about his problem, and Mikka’s, and slowly nurtured an idea that would, if it worked, allow him to do a little more for Mikka than just be his friend. He was determined not to make things worse by rushing into it this time.

After two days of thinking and going over his plan, Jonas had an idea of what he wanted to do, but he held off, half hoping that Mikka would regain his spirits. Every day when he looked in on the grey fox, Mikka was lying in bed, sometimes looking out the window, sometimes up at the ceiling, sometimes at nothing at all. With every day, guilt squeezed Jonas’s heart a little more tightly; after all, all this trouble was because of him. Hazel was right, no matter what she’d meant: he was responsible.