The Darkening King

“I don’t know why I’m doing this. I’m not even sure I’ve forgiven you yet,” started Ned.

Benissimo flinched, very slightly, before flitting back to his old bravado. “Oh, come on, pup, you think I’m brilliant.”

“No, no, I don’t.”

Annoyingly Ned did think Benissimo was brilliant, completely and utterly, but he wasn’t about to let him know.

“You’ll see – you Armstrongs always come round in the end,” grinned Benissimo, which was quite possibly the worst thing he could have said.

“Bene, Mum and Dad had every right to be furious. It’s going to take a lot to gain their trust again and this isn’t the best way to do it. You broke a lot of hearts when you disappeared, mine included.”

“I regret that more than you know.”

Ned stopped. “Then help me understand. This isn’t your personal fight, Bene. You had no right abandoning us like that, not after everything Mum and Dad have had to go through.”

“But it is personal, Ned – extremely. When there’s time I’ll explain, I promise.”

It was then that Ned remembered what Barbarossa had told him on the Daedalus. According to the butcher, it was not just any Demon but the Darkening King himself that had cursed the two brothers and given them their immortality. What Ned still didn’t understand was why. Was that what the Ringmaster meant? Either way, their mission came first. There would be time to talk when they returned. Ned had had the foresight not only to bring his trusty sidekicks but also the Tinker’s perometer. From the look on the Ringmaster’s face, there was little doubt that they would need it where they were going. Finally, at the end of one of the corridors, they came to a staging room lined with several mirrors. Great, thought Ned as Benissimo passed him his gear – a fur-lined coat, goggles and what looked like a small metal stick.

“One of the Tinker’s modifications to BBB tech. It’s a retractable Taser. It’ll give whatever we run into enough of a shock for you to get away. Just twist the top to activate it. And make sure you button up the coat properly – it’s still freezing where we’re going this time of year.”

“Dangerous and cold; Mum and Dad are going to kill me for this.”

“I should think they’ll try me first. If we’re lucky, I’ll get us home before they wake up.”

“If we’re lucky? Bene, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Indeed, Mr B., are you sure?” said a voice from behind them.

They turned to see Mr Fox, dressed from head to toe in winter gear, sitting on a bench at the back of the room. Next to him was the bulbous-eyed Mr Spider, in his regular grey suit.

“Sneaking off in the dead of night without telling anyone? Well, it doesn’t exactly glow with team spirit, does it?”

“Where did you come from?!” spat Benissimo.

“Actually, we were just behind the door when you walked in. I thought it might be a good idea if I tagged along.”

“Mr Fox, you and I have done some great things in our short time together and I am very grateful to your organisation, but I think it might be better if you remained in the Nest.”

The wording was polite enough, the coiled whip unfurling in Benissimo’s hand far less so.

“Mr Spider, go and get some sleep,” said Mr Fox.

“Sir?” said the thin-limbed agent. “I’m fine, thank you, sir.”

Mr Fox’s eyes rolled very slightly but he remained completely calm. “You are many things, Mr Spider, none of which is ‘fine’.”

Mr Spider grinned thinly, before excusing himself.

“Mr Spider has taken it upon himself to follow me of late and I’m not sure that I enjoy it very much. Now trust me when I say this, Mr B – I really don’t want to come with you.”

Ned watched Benissimo’s whip closely. It was wavering to and fro and he was quite sure that it was almost ready to snap.

“You are a confoundingly difficult man to work with,” Mr Fox went on. “Hot-headed, obtuse and with no regard for protocol. I hope you’ll agree that I have tried to be accommodating. But here’s the thing: for this partnership to work, for this entire operation to work, I need some ‘certainties’. You can’t, it seems, be killed, and for that I am – ‘we’ are – relieved. You can, however, be captured and being that you’re the only one who knows ‘the plan’, well, if you’re captured then we lose. I am not going to demand you tell me everything, but I’m afraid I must insist on making sure you return.”

Mr Fox said all this with a calm, almost apologetic voice. He also seemed strangely certain that Benissimo would agree. The Ringmaster, however, got that stubborn look. His cheeks became flushed and his whip now rose threateningly between them.

“Mr Fox, I’m not sure that I like it when people ‘insist’.”

Mr Fox smiled, but remained seated and spoke into his wrist.

“Mr Badger, are you ready to wake Mum and Dad?”

“On your order, sir,” crackled back his wrist.

“You wouldn’t dare!” gasped Benissimo.

“Actually, it would be quite in character,” smiled Mr Fox.

Ned flinched. If his parents found out before they left there would be trouble – bags of the stuff. “Err, Bene, maybe we should hear him out?”

“Nonsense, pup, I won’t be blackmailed and I won’t delay our mission.”

“And besides –” Mr Fox pulled a sliver of mirrored glass from his sleeve – “you won’t get very far without this.”

It was a mirror key and no doubt the very one that they needed from the shelves to their left. Benissimo appeared to be in something of a checkmate, and all three of them knew it.

An angry twitch of a moustache later, and a powerless Ned made ready to step through the glass. He may well have lost his powers, but he had a mouse, a slovenly shadow, a Ringmaster and now a fox to help him on his way.

Ned pushed his face through the mirror and, a cool but clean tug later, found himself several thousand miles away, in a frozen and lightless wood.

The Forest

he sun had yet to rise on a freezing Siberian morning. Benissimo got down on one knee and peered through the wood. Ned could feel the tiny hairs on his arms prickle and Mr Fox reached into his pocket.

“Soft mint, anyone?”

Despite where they were, the enigma that was Mr Fox seemed completely at ease.

“They’re not standard issue, but I do allow myself small luxuries from time to time.”

Benissimo’s moustache twitched. “Mr Fox, considering our circumstances, I would appreciate you enjoying the ‘small luxury’ of keeping ruddy quiet.”

Mr Fox stopped mid-chew. “I don’t take orders from you, Mr B. I’d remember that if I were you.”

“Actually, my unwelcome accomplice, right now I’m trying to forget you exist.”

Mr Fox put away his mints and squared up to Benissimo. In his own clipped way he looked rather intimidating and was not about to give an inch to the Ringmaster.

“Well, like it or not, here I am.”

“I think I’ve made it quite clear that I don’t—”

Ned’s eyes rolled. Clearly Benissimo and Mr Fox’s alliance was being tested.

“Will you two belt up! I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but being that we are and it’s freezing, can we just get on with it?!”

Both men suddenly looked quite sheepish.

“Zeus’s crown, you’re right, Ned. I’m sorry and so is Mr Fox.”

Mr Fox nodded reluctantly.

“Now, pup, would you be so kind as to summon your familiar?”

“Gorrn, sure, but what for?”

“Because between us and the folk I’m trying to get us to is the most dangerous stretch of forest anywhere on earth. Needless to say, I expect Gorrn will be about the only thing to keep us from being brutally savaged.”

The worst part of Benissimo’s explanation was that he wasn’t smiling and Ned still didn’t know what they were doing there.

“I’d feel a lot better about all this if I knew who we were trying to meet.”

Benissimo frowned. “If we’re separated and you or Mr Fox get caught, our contact must remain a secret no matter how long you’re tortured for.”

“Tortured? You didn’t say anything about being tortured!” spat Ned.

Ned eyed the mirror nervously. Between the two men’s face-off and the talk of torture, he was already regretting his decision to come.

“Keep your voice down! It won’t come to that if you follow my lead. Now would you please get on with it.”

Given their surroundings and the fact that he really had no choice, Ned did as he was told.

“Well, you heard him, Gorrn …”

Both of his sidekicks were uncommonly jittery at their surroundings and Gorrn at first pretended not to hear.

“Gorrn, you know I know you’re there. I can see you oozing behind my leg.” Which wasn’t actually true.

Nothing.

“Please, Gorrn, oh great and dear protector, would you kindly and in your own sweet time stop us from being brutally savaged or tortured, or even just a bit hurt?”

There was a tense moment when Ned thought Gorrn had actually fled, before he heard a low and unenthusiastic “Arr” from his foot. Inch by inch, the slovenly blob that was Gorrn began rising up from the cold forest floor, till their gloomy little spot became even gloomier.

“Thank you, Gorrn. Bene, Mr Fox, it works better if you’re ‘in’ him.”

Ned watched Mr Fox closely as he stepped into Gorrn’s ooze.

“Well, this will be different,” was all he said, though Ned noticed it was said with something of a tremor.

“We won’t be invisible exactly, but Gorrn will make us blend in. We’ll look more like a moving shadow than anything else.”

Whiskers was unnaturally quiet even for a mouse, and Ned popped the little bundle of furred metal in by his neck. Even with just his faint tick rather than a real heartbeat, his mostly faithful companion was still a comfort.

The going was painfully slow. They had to make completely sure that no part of them was outside Gorrn’s oozy embrace, which as well as making them look like a shadow, also made it harder to see. Benissimo led the strange group in total silence as Mr Fox covered their rear. The deeper into the forest they went, the more crooked and wild the trees grew. Their bark was as hard as stone and they rose up from the ground now, crowding and vast, like great armoured giants. Through the little light that made its way down here, Ned could see a wet blackness amongst the leaves and moss, as though some sickness was creeping into the forest or growing up from its roots. He had rarely visited a more foreboding place, made only worse because of its silence.

Slowly he began to notice, where long-dead trees had fallen and their bark had rotted, the telltale glint of slithering. Small creatures at first – worm, grub and beetle; then larger and more strange, black and scaly, or soft and with lidded eyes. He couldn’t see them clearly enough to tell whether they were Darklings or not, and only prayed that they couldn’t see him.

The ground began to slope downwards and Whiskers’ fur stiffened at his neck. The little rodent was worried.

“You all right, boy?” Ned whispered.

Tick.

“Whiskers?”

Tick.

Ned didn’t need to pull the perometer from his pocket. He could already feel its metal needle twitching.

Tick, tick, tick.

Finally he realised: the ticking did not just belong to his mouse.

We Have Company

enissimo slowed and pointed above their heads to the branches. Ned could quite clearly see all manner of winged birds. Pigeons, eagles, hawks and owls – and each and every one was scouring the forest with their beady ticker eyes.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tinks’s Big Brother was right – the Twelve’s eyes and ears had been plucked and now kept watch over Barbarossa’s forest.

“Grr.”

Ahead of them they heard several grunts and snarls, followed closely by a piercing howl. Gorrn’s oozing form wobbled nervously and Mr Fox pulled the silenced pistol from his side as Benissimo edged forward.

The trees began to thin out and through the twilight Ned could see that up ahead a small river crossed their path, and on its banks, a little upstream, sat a group of huddled, powerful creatures: four weirs, from the wolf-pack. Before the world had gone mad, their kind had been tasked with keeping the reserve’s borders, but it was well known now that they had sided with Barbarossa and his cabal. Ned had been chased by a weir on Benissimo’s flagship and had met others in St Albertsburg. They were gruff, violent creatures and their muscly torsos were covered in matted fur. Their combination of claws and fangs made them look terrifying, more so because their kind had quite forgotten what it was to be human. These were wolf-men and they lived for the hunt.

Benissimo put a finger to his lips and indicated in the opposite direction, downstream. Ned saw two more weirs coming to join the others. They were between both sets of creatures now and would be found before long unless they crossed the river. They had no choice. As quietly as they could, Ned and his party waded into the water.

Though the river wasn’t wide, it was ice-cold, waist-deep, and its rocks underfoot were slimy and loose. As the water rose around him, Ned breathed in painfully. Step by tentative step they moved, Ned’s heart and chest pounding, the river’s cold current biting at his skin. There was now less than twenty feet between them and the second group of wolf-men. There was a flap of wings above them and a small kestrel swooped down low, first one then another. Was it one of Barba’s tickers? Had they been spotted? One of the wolf-pack noticed, its keen ears pinned back and its slack jaw loose and wide as it sniffed at the air. The other three’s fur bristled and they growled deep and low, scanning the riverbank for movement.

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