The Rise of the Raccoon Queen
Or The Big Grey Fluffy Butt Matter

A Story of Faerie
© 2020 by M. Mitchell Marmel

(Additional characters by E.O. Costello and W.D. Reimer.)
Thumbnail art by  tegerio, color by  Major Matt Mason


Part Twenty-one.



Tessie:

While the celebration was going on, I stepped away to be alone for a moment and went into the little house that the villagers had set aside for me and Ooo-er. I mean, the Regalia had encouraged me to dance around and make a fool of myself to get this bauble.

I’d also killed Evil Reg for it. By the Lady, that still made me feel a little sick, even though the Regalia assured me that I was doing the Right Thing, and it was plainly the Elf-ly and Seelie thing to do, and that the Lady Herself countenanced it. Still, I wasn’t a warrior or a great soldier like the Master, so I was really uneasy deep down about it.

But I had to it that I was curious about the ring.

As soon as I was sure that there was no one around I took the ring out of my Elfintory. “Okay,” I said, “what is so all-fired important about this?”

Glad you asked, said the Regalia. This is the Ring of Brightwater. The band was silver-steel, with a round stone that looked like a cat’s eye. Put it on.

“It’s too big.” It was; the thing might have fit Evil Reg, but not me.

Go ahead, the armor urged. I shrugged and put it on, and to my surprise it shrank to fit my finger. See? It was old even in the Long Ago, when the Wolf Queen first put it on.

“Well, it is pretty,” I itted. “So it’s a very old magickal object. What does it do?”

If the Regalia had been an Elf, its laughter would have been heard all over the village. It enables you to see great distances, while hiding you from eyes that might spy on you.

Ooh. That sounded really useful.

“How do I use it?” I asked, looking at the thing as it sat on my finger.

Simple. Close your eyes and put your paw to your forehead, with the ring facing out and resting between your eyes. I did as the Regalia asked, feeling a little silly. Now, think of a person – anyone – and you’ll see them and what they’re doing right now.

I thought of my father, and by the Lady, I could see him as clearly as if I was in the same room! He was at our family’s restaurant, bustling around and talking with his friends. Wow! Sure, I heard the Master talking about scrying, but I never knew what it was like! I looked for Mother, and there she was in the kitchen.

Then I looked for someone else, and the Regalia said, Oho! Nice!

I took my paw away from my face. “Hush, you.”

“Who are you talking to?” and I turned as Ooo-er poked her head in the doorway. “The armor?”

“Yeah,” and I held up the Ring of Brightwater. “The Regalia says that this will help me see people far away. Sort of like scrying.”

The otter’s eyes went big and she seized one of my paws in both of hers. “So you’ll be able to see her? My love?”

“Sure, I guess,” I said. “Let me try.” I put my paw to my face and closed my eyes.

And failed at first.

Not as you see her, girl, the Regalia said, but as she actually is. No wolfess looks like that.

I felt myself frown, and tried again.

The Master’s told me what it’s like to fly, and Eala! It felt exactly like I was flying, rising above the village and heading out over Route Sixty and Six for a league or two before turning widdershins and heading toward a big city. I then dove and I could feel my tail bottle out because it felt like I was going to crash into the side of a building.

But it was like I flew through the walls of the building. I have to it, once I got over the fright, this was fun!

I flew through another wall, and –

Hmmph.

Yeah, she was just fine.

So was that cat who had been poking into the Master’s library – Telly or Taffy or something like that.

How do I know she was just fine? Elves don’t lie, so I’m telling the truth when I say they were doing some of the things the Master and I do when he takes me to bed. I say some of the things, because neither of the two femmes are equipped like the Master – or any mel – is.

I took my paw from my face and blinked. Hey, the Regalia said, I was watching that.

“Did you see her?” Ooo-er asked, and I looked at her. She was so hopeful; how could I tell her that her wife was in a comfortable bed, busy snogging away?

“Yes, I saw her and she’s okay,” I said, and she clapped her paws in joy. “What’s more, I know where she is and how we can get there.”

She gave a squeal of pure happiness and hugged me. No, she didn’t need to know that her wife was having venery.

Until it was the right time to tell her, that is.


***


Ooo-er:

You have no idea how happy I was!

I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to dance! I hugged Tessie so hard she started gasping for air, and when it was time to go to bed I could scarcely get to sleep. I did manage it, though, eventually; it had been an exhausting day.

As I fell asleep, I could still hear music and singing. I recall thinking it was no wonder that Evil Reg made the villagers sing for him; these folk all had wonderful voices. Not as good as the Deep Voices I used to hear in the wide ocean near our lost island, but good enough for the dryfooted.

I woke up to more singing, this time a hymn of greeting to Fuma and thanking Her for the new day. Here and there I started hearing snatches of something new, and I started giggling. Whether Tessie liked it or not, there would soon be a Ballad of the Raccoon Queen spreading through Faerie.

Tessie woke up to the chorus:

Sprawled in his Unseelie seat, Evil Reg
Felt her weapon’s sharp keen edge
And his head fell loose, and so it rolled
To rest before the Raccoon Queen bold!

Shakestoat, it wasn’t, but the singer was trying hard. I had to give him points for that.

Tessie pushed her tiara back into position (it had slipped a bit over her eyes during the night). “G’morning,” she yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “They sound happy,” she remarked, flicking her ears. She finally caught onto what was being sung. “Oh no . . . “

“I’m afraid so,” I said, grinning as the singer faltered on trying to find a word that rhymed with ‘silver.’ “Do you recall which direction we have to go?”

She nodded. “It’s about ten leagues or so east-northwest, then slightly widdershins.” Her stomach rumbled and she looked a little embarrassed. “Breakfast?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

They had fish! And it was delicious!

After we ate, and of course thanked everyone for their hospitality, Tessie gently brought up the fact that we had to be going. Only a few were disappointed that we wouldn’t be staying forever, but the village hean nodded understandingly.

“The Raccoon Queen and her companion,” the jowly canine said with a gracious smile to me, “are on an Adventure. Anyone can see that, and while we are grateful, we won’t detain them. SIX!” he shouted, and a smaller, slimmer copy of him perked his ears. “See to their needs and get their cart harnessed.”

“Yes, Two,” and the canine loped off to the stables.

With me and Tessie pitching in to help, we soon had Kora and Veyt harnessed up, and supplies for about a week were loaded up. By the time we were finished, I couldn’t resist any longer.

“Why ‘Six?’”

The terrier glanced at me, and gave a soft chuckle. “Mother and Father had ten kids.”

“I should have guessed,” and I laughed with him. “Are your parents - ?”

He nodded. “And One. I’m very glad that you killed Evil Reg and his gang,” he said to Tessie. “I’ll never forget either of you, especially how the Raccoon Queen distracted them all.”

“It’s the oldest trick in the book,” Tessie said, in that flat tone that told me that the Regalia had stuck its oar in.

As we mounted up and got ready to leave the village, Six did a curious thing. He made a circle of his thumb and forefinger, put it to his eye, and then tipped his paw down with the words, “Be seeing you.” The gesture and words were repeated by quite a few of his fellow villagers.

We said our farewells, Tessie twitched the reins and we left the village behind.


***


Jhonni:

Expense addendum: one star, for an infusion of ginger and willow from Needle & Sons, Apothecary.

When I hit the bricks after leaving Geffert’s, I immediately slipped into my other home, the shadows. Of course, I’m not the only one who lives there, a truism proven when I had to do a sudden sidestep to avoid tripping over a guy who my nose told me was feline. “Hey, watch it,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” I said, and started down the alley.

I’m not certain how I knew it. I don’t recall hearing anything; it was more like a sense that I needed to step aside, and fast.

So I did.

I half-jumped to the left, driving one shoulder into the wall, and stuck my right foot out like I was taking a step. The feline who I’d nearly tripped over instead tripped over my outstretched foot, the knout in his paw going flying across the grimy cobbles. He recovered quickly, getting to his feet.

Did you know that giraffes have horns? No? We do, of a sort; I swung my neck and hit him dead in the face with both of them.

Ow . . .

I was going to be feeling that in the morning.

I put my paws on my hips, my knees in tight, just in case the guy wanted to get up and try for Round Two, but he was just lying there knocked out cold.

After taking a long look up the alley in one direction, and another in the other direction, and still another in the third direction, I crouched down by the guy and started searching for his Elfintory. Don’t look at me like that; an Elf’s Elfintory is his castle, but right now he had the drawbridge down.

I found a few things in there (he kept the entrance to it behind his back) that I put into the pockets of my overcoat. And yes, I went through his pockets and took his money as well. His knout I kicked into a sewer, and I slipped down the alley before anyone happened by.

No one stopped me, so the getaway was clean, and I didn’t stop moving until I was back on my side of town and in my rooms. I locked the door, drew the curtains, and lit a few candles before I dumped the contents of my pockets to see what I’d found.

First, the money, and I felt my eyebrows trying to get as high as my horns. This guy was pretty well-off for someone who apparently wanted to mug me. He had five gold suns, ten stars and seven dusks, all told, along with what looked like a religious medal. The medal was round, looked like brass, and had a silhouette of a fox on it. I couldn’t read the inscription on it.

The items from his Elfintory included a light, narrow wooden paddle with a handle and a thinner piece of wood hinged to the larger piece a finger’s width or so above the handle. I swung it, and the smaller piece of wood hit the larger, causing a slapping sound. Huh, quite an interesting noisemaker; I know I hadn’t seen one before.

Another mystery was a small round thing like a fat coin. The obverse side had a ring on it, and there was a small cone-shaped protrusion on the other side. I put the ring on, and touched my finger to the cone.

Zap!

“OW!”

I took the Darkness-damned thing off and nearly threw it out the window, but stopped myself in time and instead slipped it into my own Elfintory. It hadn’t stung me while I was carrying it, so I thought that it would be safe in there. The gold coins went in there too, and I started to get ready for bed. It’d been a long day for Mrs. Dinar’s son Jhonni.

I woke up needing a headache remedy, so some of the cat’s money helped make me feel better. He did a good deed, then, in spite of himself.


***


Winterbough:

It was over breakfast the next morning that I realized that I’d been stupid.

[Note appended to manuscript: “About time. The rest of us have known that for years.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap, wolfess.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: "Probably when you tried to eat grapefruit with your nose, again."]

[Note appended to manuscript: “I reiterate - shaddap, Wolfess. Your table manners are cause for comment, too.”]

The central gem on the Wolf Queen’s tiara was still imbued with a scrying-spell of my own devising, and while the Wolf Queen herself was still missing along with Miss Hartoh-Mason, I knew that Tessie was wearing it the last time I saw her. And with Ooo-er hopefully still with her, I could locate at least part of my household.

I finished my tea in the inn’s common area and went back to my room. I got my scrying-sphere out of my Elfintory, sat back comfortably and held the sphere up to my eyes while murmuring, “Open Channel D.”

AGH!

It felt like someone kicked me in the head.

From inside. My field of vision tore open as a wave of what I could only describe as dazzling lights swept across my closed eyelids, faded away and was replaced by a low, dull throbbing in the right side of my head. The experience left me feeling nauseous and dizzy.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Dizzy? You mean, more than usual?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “You’ve never had a headache, wolfess?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “I don’t think people need a history of how I feel about you, Master.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Not right this moment, at any rate.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Did I tell you to shaddap?”]

It took a cantrip and a short trip to an apothecary to get my headache under control. My traveling companions sympathized, but we were soon out on the streets and looking around.

I had gotten over the shock of seeing the Wolf Queen immortalized in granite, marble, and bronze in most of the city squares, so I started looking beyond that. Hard to do, really, considering the way the sculptors had emphasized her arse and upperworks.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Hey!”]

Surprisingly, there was a statue of the late and unlamented King Alistair near a crossroads. The royal and Unseelie osprey was a little hard to spot, as he was almost covered with scraps of papyrus and parchment. At my urging, we stopped so I could get out and read through a few of them. Fred and Michael got out as well.

WHO COVERED THE SPREAD?

THAT'S A FURSONAL QUESTION

“Cor, I likes ‘em big, I do,” Fred remarked to himself.

BLINK 182

WHEN I'M HUNGOVER, I'M ______ LUCKY IF I CAN BLINK 2

“How much can an Elf drink to be blind in the morning, Corporal?” Michael asked.

“Quite a bit,” I replied, “but I’ve never stopped to figure out exactly how much.”

The mink nodded. “Might be worth experimenting after this mission. Nothing like empirical data.”

I spotted one much-yellowed piece of paper, hanging almost apologetically from the front of Alistair’s tros, that gave me some grounds for disquiet:

BRING BACK THE OSPREYS

Really, I didn’t have to worry, because underneath it someone had scrawled: THE MILITIA NEED MORE TARGET PRACTICE

Painted on the side of a nearby building were a few signs that answered a question I hadn’t asked yet.

THE OSPREYS ARE GONE - BUT OUR TEAM STILL STINKS!

And the obligatory: FOR FURTHER JOKES, SEE WALL OPPOSITE, upon which was written MADE YOU LOOK!

“Hmm,” Fred said, “Come look at this, Master.”

I did so.

UP THE WOLF QUEEN

WITH WHAT?

THAT'S A FURSONAL QUESTION, INNIT?

Knowing her tastes, I refrained from comment, and Michael drew my attention to another exchange.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF SEX ON THE SCRYING SPHERE?

I KEEP FALLING OFF

“That’s an old one,” Michael remarked. “I’ve seen versions of that joke in three different alternities.”

There was an alternative joke, on a now-familiar theme:

UP THE WOLF QUEEN

WITH WHOM?

LITERATE BASTICH, AIN'T YOU?

[Note appended to manuscript: “Grr . . . ”]

And there was one that seemed to be a cry from the heart for better days: WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CRISPY BACON WE HAD BEFORE THE OSPREYS?

Those were just a few of what Fred later said were called pasquinades where he was from. There were a lot of others, mainly having to do with either ing or rubbishing various furs that were campaigning for positions on something called the State Council (“Probably a Regency of some sort,” Michael supplied, which did make sense). Judging from the tenor of one (COUNCILOR HORNE IS A SCHMENDRICK) I gathered that the campaigning was being done in a truly Elf-ly fashion, with each side about two easy steps away from a fistfight.

After having gleaned some intelligence from the statue, we piled back into the car and set off, looking for DelFurrio’s Tailor Shop.

We round a corner and headed down a street past the new Temple of the Brilliant Light, Matt having to call his two subordinates to order as a group of young femmes clad only in flowers danced before the sanctuary entrance. Managing to get past the gathering safely (and not losing anyone from the car in the process), we went around another corner.

“Is that it?” I asked, half-rising in my seat and pointing.

Matt pulled off to the side of the road and looked back at me, grinning. “Yeah, that’s it. All out for Frankford, boys.”





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