The Progeny of Able (The Burrow of London Series Book 1) Read online

  “Let's keep moving,” Roe said. “We have no idea how long it will take to find this defender.”

  Crossing the interim bridge was relatively easy but involved a short climb up the tower to reach it; a climb which Daegal needed all three foxes to help him complete. They crossed the centre walkway quickly as the crash of noisy traffic beat dizzily beneath them, causing the entire bridge to sway and bend.

  Once on the other side, Scarlett hugged the wall of the second tower and looked up. “All right. I'll climb this tower and look around. The rest of you get ready to descend the opposite suspension.” she said, calculating her route.

  “Not this time...'Shade'...,” Mercia said with a smile. “I'll see you at the top.”

  Without waiting for a response, she threw a hooked rope to a ledge above, and after a few swings holding on with her jaw, had grabbed a series of pawholds and was already half-way up.

  “Nice work,” Scarlett said, looking up at Mercia swinging a few more times to reach the top then jumping deftly from ledge to ledge in pursuit and flipping over the edge to the roof above. Roe and Daegal looked at each other, then to the vixens above.

  “I'm really not good with cartography,” Daegal said. “So best I stay here.”

  “Yeah, we'll let the vixens fight over the directions,” Roe agreed.

  “Let's get out of this rain.” Daegal said, hopping into another support tunnel.

  Waiting, looking out over the rain-sliced London, Roe had a sudden feeling of dread come over him, one which had come and gone repeatedly over the last few days.

  “Daegal, this isn't right.”

  “What, Sky?”

  “The fact that you are all risking your lives over me and some ancient rumours which may or may not be true. Do you really think I'm the one who is supposed to heal the Light?”

  Daegal considered his friend before abandoning his generally ironic tone to answer him.

  “My parents were taken from me as they were from you, Roe, but not by the regime. They were killed by a pack of starving Shadow Foxes. It is the lack of knowledge of our past, of where we come from, of how we came to be, which is killing us as much as Gremian. I'd risk a lot for some of that knowledge and if you are at the centre of it, then that is a tough reality for you. Some day, Roe, I hope some day soon, you'll realize that the sacrifice your parents made to save you was what any decent parent would do. It is sad, but there is nothing remarkable in the act itself. It was instinct. It was love. The question is why they were forced to sacrifice themselves at all. They may not have known what, but in their hearts they knew they were protecting something invaluable. Something more than their own child. We have a responsibility to find out what that was.”

  He turned away from Roe, crossing to the other side of the tunnel before turning and looking at his friend, still staring out over the city.

  “Besides, we've risked our lives countless times over the most trivial of things for each other. I think protecting your life, Sky Fighter, is an improvement on our usual suicidal crusades. A small one, but still an improvement.”

  Roe opened his mouth to laugh but rather than his voice, a violent shriek cut across the night from below. To the Hantsa the sound wasn't audible enough to rise above the muck of noises emanating from the city around them but to a fox, it was clearer than a shout in the ear. Daegal quickly bound back to Roe and both scanned the opposite bank. Mercia and Scarlett quickly dropped from above.

  “Roe, get back!” Scarlett yelled, as she fell.

  It was too late and another cry, this one a chorus of foxes, came from a group of exit guardians looking up at them from the Tower walls. Several canines appeared and a large contingent of Shadow Foxes emerged from the Traitor's Gate.

  “I knew this would happen!” Mercia said, glaring at Scarlett then shaking her head. “They must have been eyeing the bridge from under cover.”

  “We'll they've alerted us and that is their first mistake. What did you see?” Roe asked.

  “We've seen the way,” Scarlett responded “The route is slashed and halted occasionally by new roads and new buildings, but eventually it makes a run of it to a green square hugged by a tavern with a church at its centre.”

  “And you remember the way?” Daegal asked.

  “Yes, I have the map in my head,” said Scarlett.

  “So do I,” Mercia added. “Oh please. Navigating Hantsa London is easy compared to the Burrow,” she continued, under Daegal's sceptical gaze.

  Another call from below turned all four heads in unison.

  “Well, navigators, show us the way,” Roe said, pushing the two through the tunnel.

  They fell and slid more than scaled down the draping support on the south side of the river. By the time they turned to run, the Shadow Foxes behind them had started to cross the bridge from the other side. They filtered into the packed mix of foot traffic, cars and bicycles like wild animals cutting through the weeds.

  *

  Edward lounged in a pew, spreading his arms possessively across the long hardwood seat as a comatose yawn pushed his head back and forced him to irreparably shut his eyes. Gwen's pie sat comfortably in his belly and after the excitement of the day he was content to take a nap and listen to the ebb and flow of the showers outside.

  Somehow, he had managed to tear himself away from his discoveries long enough to meet Gwen for supper but hadn't put anything away or re-covered the stairs. He lazily checked his watch.

  “Eleven-thirty,” he groaned. “I still need to shut the church.”

  He lay back, swinging his legs onto the pew and stuffed his hand in his pocket, feeling the cool metal of the key. He took it out and examined it closely. Marks and grooves and a stuttering Latin text interrupted the surface below the head of the fox.

  “Foxes! Always foxes. What's with all the foxes?” he said to himself.

  Clunk.

  “Gwen?” Edward asked, sitting up on the bench, rubbing his eyes, and looking back over the seats towards the entrance to the church.

  “Sorry, I haven't closed up shop yet!” he said, chuckling at his own joke. “But I blame your cooking for my laziness.”

  “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  The gravelly whisper shocked Edward onto his feet.

  “Yes. This has to be it.”

  “There is a Hantsa over there talking to himself.”

  “I'm sorry, but the church is closed for the day,” Edward said, craning his head to see where or who the voices were coming from.

  “You should speak with him.”

  “Me? Why me? Roe should. He's the 'chosen one.'”

  “Look, if you come back tomorrow morning at ten there will be a service and you can stay for as long as you wish,” Edward said, assuming the voices had come from youths sneaking in the church, a regular occurrence when he first arrived but unusual these days.

  “Well, someone has to say something. He seems to want us to leave.”

  The voices were getting closer to Edward, but he still couldn't see them, and a slight twinge of panic tickled the back of his throat.

  “Listen, I can hear you, so please stand and let me see you. There is no reason to crawl up on me.”

  “Stand? What does that mean?”

  “I'm not sure, but he's getting a bit nervous.”

  “Yeah, well me too.”

  “You should know there is a silent alarm in the church,” Edward said, lying about the security features he had been unable to find the funds for. “The police will be here in five minutes if I push this button!”

  His voice had cracked slightly as he pointed a threatening index finger at a button on the wall which operated a ventilation fan.

  “Enough of this,” Roe said jumping onto the narrow back of a pew half-way to the alter.

  “A fox!” Edward yelled appealing to his supposed youths. “Quick! They carry disease. Help me to get it out of here.”

  He grabbed a wide bristling broom and pointed it towards the fox l
ike a rifle.

  “Shoo! Out! Shoo!,” he spat, shaking the broom at Roe.

  “Diseased? Excuse me? What do you take me for, some kind of sick feral?”

  Edward stared at Roe, his eyes widening, his hands shaking, his brain unable to process what he had just heard come from the animal standing across from him. A slight whine escaped his voice and he looked around, hoping the pews themselves might rise up to defend him against this creature.

  Then another fox joined the first.

  “Do you know where we can find the Defender...the Defender of the Foxes?” Scarlett asked, just as a flash of lighting illuminated the scar across her face.

  “Um...yes...,” Edward managed to say slumping to a seat, sure that this was the first sign of losing his mind. He cradled his head in his hands, dropping the broom to the floor with a snap.

  “It would be very helpful to us if you could tell us where we could find him or her,” Mercia said, appearing from around the corner of the central aisle.

  “Ah!” Edward yelled, pulling his legs onto the seat and cradling them in his arms. “I'm tired. I'm tired. Too much fox stuff. I should have left well enough alone. Maybe I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I must be dreaming. That pie. That pie. That pie.”

  “I wish, mate,” Daegal said, joining Mercia and inspiring another gasp from Edward.

  “Foxes don't speak. Foxes don't talk. They don't!”

  “That's true. Most don't,” Daegal continued. “But Foxes of the Great Burrow of London do.”

  “How many of you are there?” Edward yelled, trying not to look at them.

  “Just the four of us,” Scarlett said.

  “He looks scared,” Mercia added. “Come on Hantsa. You are bigger than all of us combined. You could squash even this trolley of lard,” she continued, jabbing at a slightly insulted Daegal.

  “We don't have much time. Do you know where we can find the Defender?” Roe whispered in his ear, perched next to him.

  Edward turned his head quickly, and found himself nose to nose with the fox, his soft breath joining with that of the animal, his gaze joining the blue gaze of Roe. At first he yelled but then, strangely, all fear drained from him in a gentle exhalation of breath and he found himself clear-headed, thinking of the smiling face of Reverend Haggerty holding a knife, and of himself, administering an oath. All panic left his heart.

  “I am the Defender,” Edward said, not taking his eyes from Roe. “Where have you been?”

  “We believe it has been a long time. A very long time since the Foxes of London last made contact with the Defender,” Scarlett said.

  “We only just learned about you,” Mercia added, “from a bit of paper torn out of a book.”

  “A book?” Edward yelled suddenly, causing the others to jump. “It all makes sense! Foxes who can speak and think! That is the great secret this place has been housing... hiding. I am to Defend the Foxes and more than that, to protect the Progeny of Able.”

  Roe knew what he needed to do and removed the key he had been protecting since Ursula had given it to him. He presented it to Edward and, for the first time, had the brief feeling that he was in fact the fox the others believed him to be.

  Edward presented his own key and the two joined the tarnished silver halves into a single head with a click and, contrary to the expectations of everyone, nothing happened.

  “Okay. Now what?” Mercia asked, breaking the silence that had filled the church. “That was a lot of effort to fix a broken key. Do we even know what it opens?”

  “Actually, I might.” Edward said suddenly. “You mentioned a page from a book? ”

  “Yes. We have it with us,” Scarlett answered.

  “Good,” He said, surveying the group at his feet with a smile and then a giggle. “Then follow me.”

  He turned away and disappeared down a set of steps.

  “Wow,” Daegal whispered, looking about the building, “these Hantsa sure are jittery creatures, and fickle. One minute it's 'get away or I'll smash you with my broom', the next it's 'come on let me show you my home'.”

  He followed the others after an impatient sigh and shake of the head.

  “This way,” Edward said, standing at the top of the spiral stairs. “It is a bit dark down here so be careful as you go.”

  Mercia laughed when she looked down the dim staircase. “You call this dark? If anything you should dim the lights a bit more.”

  “This staircase is Fox-made,” Scarlett commented as they descended.

  “Not only that,” Mercia asked, looking at the scarred face of the other vixen, “can you feel it?”

  Scarlett nodded her head. “The light is incredibly strong here and the deeper we go the stronger it is getting.”

  “Yes, I can feel it as well,” Roe said to the pair in front of him.

  “A tod that can feel the Light. You truly are a marvel, Roe,” Mercia said, only half joking.

  They reached the bottom and Edward had already removed the book from the alcove.

  He waved his hands towards them, excitedly turning the pages until he found the gap where a page had been torn out.

  “Quick, give me your page,” he said, removing his shirt and placing it ritualistically on the ground in order to protect the old pages.

  He spread the book open on the fabric table, gently took the page from Scarlett who had retrieved it from her satchel, and shook his hands in triumph as the page joined neatly with the jagged tear.

  He crouched on all fours and the foxes joined the man surrounding the book.

  “I'm afraid I can't read the Latin very quickly. There was a time when I could have. I need some reference material.”

  “I can read it,” Scarlett said, interrupting him.

  “Of course you can,” Mercia jabbed, rolling her eyes. “Learned from your mother, I suppose.”

  “Turn to the front of the book. Let's see if it tells us anything about who wrote it.”

  Edward complied, keeping the torn page in its home, while gently bending the spine to the cover page.

  “Here,” she said, reading to herself, as the others eagerly waited.

  “A fox that can read Latin,” Edward mumbled in amazement “Who would have thought you could read at all,” he said with a giggle. “And the fact that I just found this book today and then here you are. It seemed one caused the other. ”

  Surprisingly, it was Daegal who responded. “Not all of us can read. I mean, I can, but sadly most Light-born foxes can't. We have few books. Besides, finding food is a higher priority than finding knowledge.”

  “Anything?” Roe asked Scarlett.

  “This is basically what the first paragraph says. It's written like a letter: “Praise Able and his Progeny. May they protect us from these dire times. The last professors of the art have been slain. The king has left it to me, Deman, Captain of the Inari Guard, to seal off the skeletal passages.”

  “Hold it right there,” Daegal interrupted, “You translated that bit wrong. It's the Inari Gang not Guard. Be careful or you might send us off in completely the wrong direction!” He continued looking at the others nervously.

  “Daegal, I have been learning and reading Latin since I first opened my puppish eyes. I guarantee you it says Guard not Gang and I have to say that it makes perfect sense. Don't pretend to be so surprised,either. This is something you've known, maybe only subconsciously, maybe only in your heart, but you've known it all the same, and for a long time.”

  “That's why Orva's spear is across from Sunniva's Womb. Not because the Gang wanted to keep an eye on the wealth across the road but because the Guard was there to protect it,” Roe said looking at his friend.

  “It is also why the hide-out is so ornately built and why the burrow is called Orva's spear,” Scarlett continued. “It housed the Royal Guard.”

  “And you are the leader!” Mercia added, slapping Daegal on the back with a laugh.

  “Keep reading,” Daegal said seriously, ignoring all other comments.
/>   Scarlett continued, “'Long have the Inari protected the Royal family, the children of Able. It is the strength of our founder, dead now many centuries, that first brought the secrets of fighting from the islands on the far eastern side of the world to the Burrow of London. Yet even the strength given to us by him has proven too weak against the council of Brothers and the growing horde which is following them. What they are planning is unknown to me but they have taken over the palace and now control the cleansing. I defended the sacred relic but not before it was torn asunder. The horde overwhelmed me and I escaped with the heart and the head. The head I have given to the defender along with this account. The heart, however, lies within the library.”

  She paused and turned the page, revealing an array of horrifying imagery, hand drawn over the course of the next dozen pages: foxes being burnt alive, being decapitated or torn apart by canines. The next page with writing was the page they had brought.

  Scarlett began to translate again from the portion of text still attached to the binding of the book.

  “The eyes of Able shall live within his progeny and they will be blue as the colour of the sky and will bring the Light to London anew. The king has charged me to forge a key. The council of brothers have begun to destroy the common libraries and I do not believe they can be saved, but the collection housed in the Great Library has been moved in secret and it is this above all I seek to preserve, for it holds all knowledge of the Light, of the great Art and now must house the heart of Able himself. The blood of the progeny must meet the heart of Able and the Light shall be renewed.

  The Progeny of Able will have half of this key and the defender of London shall have its brother. These keys when combined will open the door. When the key is joined, the way to the library will be shown. This is all I can do. The horde is coming and the defender has gone to meet them leaving me in this ancient temple to write this account. I, too, shall sacrifice myself to defend the Progeny. He is here, with his friends, asleep, as I write this and I consider myself lucky to protect them at the very end. I am Deman, Captain of the Inari Guard.”

  She closed the book and sighed. The rest is filled with illuminations and talks of the glory of Able. The book is a religious text which has been added to with the account of this Deman. It was probably the only writing material he had to paw.”