Chapter 24 – Leverage

	I’d been here before.  Muddled voices dancing through my ears, fading in and out of existence.  Someone I cared for, calling my name.  I couldn’t see, but I could feel the eddies of a great storm roiling beneath me, thunder rumbling.  Water lapped at my fur. . . I was lying in it.  I tried to feel what was beneath me.
	There it was, that yawning abyss.  Beneath me, a maelstrom of spirits drawn down, clawing and crying out, as they were pulled into the cyclone of pain and fear.  I was suspended somehow, my body resting in a few inches of water.  Or was it blood?  
	I could feel a presence.  See its shadow.  I tilted my head up slowly.
	It stood there over me like a monolith.  Towering and powerful.  The Ursark from my dreams.  The two joined souls of my mighty blood parents, watching over me.  It didn’t speak, but I could feel its intentions.  My body was sinking into that roiling abyss beneath, but it wanted me to stand up.  It wasn’t time, yet.
	I was so tired.
	Stand up.
	I wasn’t sure if the command had come from the Ursark, or within.  But I felt it.  It was the first thing I really felt clearly.
	Strength.
	Time left to fight.

	“Tuli!  He’s waking up. . . .”
	Hands, on my shoulders.  Shaking me.  A palm on my cheek.
	“Harder,” I heard someone say.
	My cheek stung for a moment, and I blinked my eyes blearily open.  Everything was spinning, all the colors were blurred together.  It was too much.
	I closed my eyes again.
	“Tulimak, NO!”  A fierce voice yelled, joined soon by one I recognized better.
	“Baby, please don’t go back to sleep!”  Finn.  Begging, his voice on the edge of tears.
	I slowly opened my eyes again, fighting past the waves of dizziness and nausea.  The world was still blurry and confusing, but one face, one voice, grounded me.
	“Finn. . . .”  I mumbled.
	“Yes,” he said gratefully, and I felt his hands around one of mine.  “I’m here.  I’m here.”
	I did in fact feel water around me.  And blood.  That hadn’t just been in my vision.  I turned my head very slowly, realized I was lying in it.  The whole floor was wet, nearly an inch of water seeping into my back where I was lying, and washing into one of my ears.  The thunder was real, too.  I could vaguely see a window, not like a glass one, more of a small opening with metal bars across it.  Water and wind beat in through the small square, a storm rumbling outside.
	“We’re in some kind of holding cell,” Finn explained quietly, noting that I was looking at the window.  “I don’t know where.  They put us in wagons, I couldn’t see where we were going.”  He gave a ragged, fearful breath, squeezing my hand tighter.  “There are Priests with the City Guards from the raid.”
	The pained cries and wails were real, too.  As the world slowly solidified, I began to take stock of where we were.  It was a large cell, one half of what seemed to be an underground building, by the smell of it.  Near the pier, if the water leaking inside was any indication.  There was one hallway down the middle and another large cell like this one on the other side.  Both were full of men.
	I recognized almost all of them from the tavern.
	Including Akachi, who’d been the other man there beside me when I woke.  Now he’d moved over to another unconscious man. . . the older otter.  The canine who’d been with him was hunkered at his side, talking lowly to Akachi, while stroking the otter’s head.  He was bleeding from a split somewhere between his ears.
	So was I, I realized.  I could smell my own blood, feel the warmth of it seeping from one of my ears.  Looking around the room, a lot of the men here were injured.  Finn had been hit across the muzzle and was bleeding from the nose, but he seemed alert.  Not like me.
	“Akachi helps with the men injured in the fights,” Finn explained quietly, stroking my good ear. The other was still ringing and everything through it sounded muddy.  “I’m sorry I hit you.  He said you have to stay awake.”  He paused, gingerly forcing my muzzle to look at his.  “Are you with me?  Tuli?  Can you say something?”
	“I’m. . . here,” I said, my muzzle working slowly.
	He gave me a fragile smile that didn’t last long, crumbling into misery.  He slipped an arm around my shoulder, pressing his nose into my fur.  “I’m so, so sorry,” he said raggedly.
	A wracking sob to the left of us caught both of our attention.  It was the older canine, bent over his otter mate, his body shaking as he cried.  He was still trying to jostle the other man awake.
	Akachi moved back towards us, shaking his head.  “It is bad,” he said quietly, “very bad. . . when they are out that long.”
	I saw Finn’s expression morph from fear to anger in a matter of seconds.  He stood, squeezing my shoulder once more, then strode across the cell to the bars, grabbing at them and sticking his muzzle through, yelling at the top of his lungs.  “There is a man dying in here, you sons of bitches!  Get a Physician!  He needs help!”  
	If I looked past him, I could see a collection of guards and one man in a long black robe with gold stripes down the front, and three bars across the middle.  Those phases of the moon were emblazoned on it, too.  They all vaguely looked in Finn’s direction, but did little more.
	“God have mercy on your heartless souls, you fucking roaches!”  He continued to yell, as Akachi worked an arm underneath my shoulder, helping me sit up slowly.
	“He’s been trying that for over an hour,” he said, looking towards Finn.  “Other than battering him and the others away from the door, they’ve done nothing since they put us here.  They seem to be waiting for something.”
	I looked out towards the collection of guards and noticed something, or rather someone, I hadn’t seen out there before.  He was easy to miss, both given his size and the fact that he was sitting curled-up in a chair, diminishing his presence further.
	Rory.
	Akachi noticed where I was looking and his expression fell to sadness.  “Yes.  It seems you were followed.  Or I was.”
	“No,” I said knowingly, “I’m certain it was us.”  
	In all the time since I’d begun these travels with Finn, in all the dealings I’d had with adults, with those who wished to harm us. . . I’d never felt so betrayed as I did in that moment.  The little rat had inserted himself into our dealings since we’d gotten into the city, always hanging about or tailing us into the warehouse, gone when trouble arose and somehow back when coin was to be made.  He was charming, knowledgeable, and most importantly, a child.  I’d never minded his presence, or thought to question why he was still with us after so long.
	He’d been different over the last week, I remembered.  Quieter.  I remembered thinking he’d just been reserved and keeping his head low, because of all the tension in the air.  But he’d still stuck around us, and Grayson’s men.  Even despite the danger.
	We never would have seen, or smelled him following us.  He knew this city better than any of us and his scent blended right in with his surroundings.  And we’d been looking for canines, besides. . . .
	Metal groaned and scraped, followed by the echoing bang of a door blown in by the wind.  The sound of the storm outside intensified, a gust of cold, wet air blew down the hallway, and then many sets of purposeful footsteps joined in.  And one particular sound I’d only heard once before, but would never forget.  The leathery scrape of a heavy tail brushing over stone floors.
	I forced myself unsteadily to my feet, fighting back vertigo.  I needed to be with Finn.  Something terrible was about to happen.
	I stumbled over to his side, grabbing the bars as well, although in my case it was to steady myself.  He looked to me worriedly, but at that point the procession coming down the steps had rounded the corner, and both of us had our worst fears confirmed.
	Gezan and several of the largest Jackwalds he’d surrounded himself with last time, including the maned dog whom they’d called ‘Captain’, stopped at the end of the hallway.  They pushed back the hoods on rain-slicked greatcoats, the water beading off the leopard seal’s slick, predatory features.  He stared down the flooded hallway towards the cells, immediately catching sight of us and smiling vaguely, before turning his attention to the little rat curled up on a wooden chair, flanked on either side by two of the city guardsmen.
	“Well done, lad,” he patted the small boy none-too-gently on the back.
	“Make the men a’my home leave,” Rory said, his voice shaken, but remarkably forceful considering what he was up against.
	“In due time,” the leopard seal promised.
	“You said they’d leave!”  Incredibly, the rat raised his voice to the enormous man, his words cracking with desperation.
	“Boy, do I need to teach you some manners?”  Gezan snapped.  “’Cause clearly your whore sisters ain’t getting the job done.”
	Rory went silent at that.
	Gezan turned his attention towards us, his eyes immediately fixing on Finnegan.  “Well ain’t you just the sorriest picture I’ve ever seen,” his voice boomed off the stone walls of the decrepit prison.  He took his time making his way down the narrow hallway, his tail brushing against the bars as it swung behind him.  “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I figured I’d give you time to bury yourself, y’arrogant little bastard,” he chuckled, “but you and your father really are cut from the same damn cloth.  Slaves to your,” he glanced at me with a shake of his head, “vices.” 
	“I would have honored our deal,” Finnegan said, forcibly keeping his voice level.  “I still will.  Please, just-“
	“Well see, that’s the thing about business,” the leopard seal’s voice fell to a dark timbre as he reached us.  His eyes bored into mine.  They were like empty pits in his pale, rubbery hide.  “Always in motion.  Always changing.”  He leaned in close to the bars, inches from Finn.  “And this here?  This here changes things, wouldn’t you say?”
	Softer footsteps approached.  A thin, angular canine, the one wearing robes, hesitantly moved towards Gezan.  He was followed by several of the Jackwalds, which he seemed irritated by.  But also intimidated, so he didn’t complain.
	“That’s the man you wanted?”  He asked, leaning in to inspect Finn as well.  
	“Aye,” Gezan nodded, grinning.  “That’s the one.”
	“All alive, as promised,” the man in robes said disdainfully, looking over the rest of us.  “What exactly do you expect me to do with the rest of them?”
	“Ain’t your Order got their own ways of handling sodomites?”  The seal curled a lip.  “Workhouse?  Gallows?”
	The Priest. . . that’s what Finn had called them. . . gave a frustrated sigh.  “The workhouses and work camps I could funnel them into are all full, and a mass execution would be poor for morale in the lower districts, right now.  The Bishop’s put a stop on all public hangings until further notice.  The last time we held one, there was nearly a riot-“
	“The last one was a thievin’ streetwalker,” Gezan pointed out.  “Honestly, you Godly men are supposed to be ‘shepherds’, ain’t you?  Y’all should be cleverer than you are, manage your ‘flock’ with some sense.  It’s not hard to keep the masses from banging down your door, just make sure they don’t all starve, and don’t hang the ones that remind ‘em of their whorin’ mothers!” He gave a disgusted snort, shoving the man away from the barred door.  “No one, and I mean no one, gives a damn about sodomites.  Except other sodomites, and even they’re just looking to fuck their fellows in the ass.”
	The Priest gave a scandalized, disgusted sneer and bowed his head for a moment, murmuring to himself.  Gezan chuckled at him, then snapped at his men, two of the largest Jackwalds stepping forward.
	“Get him out, leave the rest,” he said.
	The Captain took the keys from the outstretched hand of one of the city guards and began moving towards the door.  Thinking as quickly as I could, I realized that if we were separated now, that would truly be it.  I had to do everything in my power to prevent it.
	There wasn’t much I could do except bodily block the door.  So that’s what I did.
	I pushed Finn aside, even weak though I was, he couldn’t really stop me.  My body was more than large enough to block the metal door, I would have had to turn sideways to even get in.  How they’d dragged me into this place was beyond me, but it must have taken many men.
	“Tulimak, no!”  Finn bit out.
	The door swung open and I planted myself in place as well as I could.  
	“Loyal savage you’ve got there,” Gezan said, chuckling.  “That your buck, Ambrose?”
	“Look, he’s simple, alright?”  Finn insisted, wedging an arm through at my side.  “Just leave him, I’m coming with you.  He’s nothing to me.”
	Gezan gave him a withering stare.  “That so?” he asked in a low, cold tone.
	Casually, like brushing off an insect, he reached down to his belt and pulled free a pistol, cocking the hammer and pointing it directly at my heart.
	“NO!”  Finn screamed, shoving up beneath my outstretched arm and directly in the line of fire.
	Gezan howled with laughter, and the two Jackwalds at the door took the opportunity to grab Finn and yank him out past my grip, before slamming the door back into my muzzle.  The two of them together were enough to overpower me, and just like that, I’d lost him.
	It happened so fast.  
	Gezan was still chortling as they shoved Finnegan to the ground, yanking his arms behind his back.  “Boy, you need to stop givin’ me so much to work with!” the leopard seal crowed, holstering his pistol.  “Lord above, I am almost starting to feel guilty.” He squatted slowly before the kneeling wolfdog, broad arms resting over his knees.  
	“You know, I never intended to take the bulk of this Company from your old man, either,” he shook his head, “but your blood’s just. . . weak.  You keep making it so.  Damn.  Easy.”  
	I saw it before he did.  Finn had an arm twisted, and managed to slip it out from beneath the maned dog’s grip.  His hand moved like lightning for the pistol on Gezan’s hip, and he very nearly got it.  But the other Jackwald leveled a kick at his side before he could grab it, throwing his whole body to the left.  And then they were on him again, shoving him down onto the flooded stone.
	“Damnit man, can’t you do your fuckin’ job?!”  Gezan snarled angrily at the Jackwalds.  “What the hell am I paying you for?!”  He stood, fixing his coat.  “Alright, enough of that shit.  Which is it, right or left?”
	“Right,” the maned dog said, stomping a foot down on Finnegan’s back and grabbing his right arm by the wrist, yanking it backwards.
	I watched in horror as he deftly wrapped his bicep around Finnegan’s arm, and twisted his wrist back nearly to the breaking point.
	“Where are the manifests, Ambrose?”  Gezan demanded.
	“I don’t. . . have them!”  Finn ground out between sharp whimpers.  I had almost never heard him cry out in pain.  It made my chest burn with something feral and frightening.
	Gezan merely nodded at the man, and with a final jerk of his arm, he snapped Finnegan’s wrist.  His helpless cry of pain was one I would never forget.
	“Left’s next,” Gezan warned.  “Then we move lower.”
	“We lost them,” Finnegan sobbed out between heaving breaths, “on the river!”
	“The Roseline?”  Gezan asked.
	Finn shook his head, his whole body doubled over in agony, mouth frothing.  “Up. . . north.  T-took. . . a raft. . .up-river. . .” he sucked in a breath, “it tipped!  I lost. . . everything.”
	“Then why the hell would you be in Arbordale?”  Gezan growled out.  “Don’t you think you can lie to me, boy.”
	“Papers,” Finn spat out, his voice shuddering, “Citizen. . . ship.  Papers.  That’s why we. . . we were in the. . . Immigration. . . Offices.  I didn’t know you were. . . the one. . . behind the bounty.  Thought it was m-my sire.”
	Gezan looked down at him thoughtfully for a time.  “You were just tryin’ to hide from  your old man with a new identity?”
	Finn nodded fiercely.  “I-I. . . lied. . . about. . . still having. . . the manifests. . . .”
	“Could all be bullshit,” the maned dog said.
	“It’s plausible bullshit, if it is,” Gezan said irritably.  “Alright.  Get him up, get him to the Fortune’s Favor.  And then I want your boys tearing up the pier and the lower district, until you find me something.”
	“What if we don’t?”  the maned dog asked flatly.
	“It makes a point either way,” Gezan muttered darkly.  “I don’t like Reed’s boys thinking they can just move in on me like they have.”
	“Finn. . .” I called to him as they pulled the agonized wolfdog to his feet.  My head was still spinning, my body wanted to give out beneath me.  Part of me hoped this was all still just some horrible vision.
	He turned his green eyes towards mine, despair and longing and a thousand other things passing between us in the matter of a moment.
	“Inkonuvit ek nua,” he rasped out, before they shoved him down the hall.
	“I’m coming for you,” I promised him in Nontawlik, raising my voice so I was certain he’d hear.  I wasn’t even sure he’d understood me.
	“I don’t care what you do with the rest of them,” Gezan was saying to the Priest, “but the bear?  I want him kept somewhere.  Alive.”  He glanced back at me.  “And take an ear.  Send it to the Fortune’s Favor.”
	“I-where?”  The Priest asked uncertainly.
	Gezan continued to stare back at me, then said to the man.  “Canal Street, 31st District, warehouse with the tin roof.  My man will meet yours out front.  Get it done within the day, you hear?”
	“Yes, sir,” the Priest said submissively, stepping away from the towering man.
	Gezan was silent another moment, then gave a slight smile.  “How’s your little girl?  She treating you right?”
	The robed canine was unresponsive.
	With a final chuckle, Gezan and the Jackwalds ascended the stairs, and were gone.

	 
	Keeping track of the time in the prison was impossible.  And dealing with a head injury that intermittently assailed me with waves of intense dizziness and confusion wasn’t helping.  All my mind wanted to do was stop, drift off to sleep, and take me away from this place.
	At some point, the rain stopped and I think it began to get lighter outside.  But it did nothing to give me hope.  It just meant more time was passing that Finn and I had been separated, more distance put between the two of us.
	I wasn’t even worried that Gezan had asked the Priest to disfigure me.  I wanted him to send his guards into the cell.  I wanted them to open that door.  An anger like none I’d ever known was burning inside me, the final horrific moments of Finn’s interrogation I’d borne witness to playing over and over again in my mind.  I had never experienced any feeling I could compare this to.  
	It was fury.  Anger so intense and focused, I couldn’t even feel bad for myself, or guilty over what had happened.  And I had so many reasons.
	The fact is, none of these men would be in this position if it weren’t for the fact that Finn and I had decided to visit that tavern.  And some of them- possibly all of them, might die because of it.  I don’t think most of them had been able to make sense of what had happened between Gezan and Finn, or many would likely be blaming us now.
	But I could not bring myself to feel anything but accusatory hatred for the man who’d ultimately caused all of this.  I was past blaming myself.  Finn and I hadn’t asked to be a part of this man’s corrupt web.  We hadn’t moved against him since we’d made it to the city, we hadn’t even reneged on the deal Finn had struck with him.  Everything, absolutely everything that had ever befallen us since the start of this came down to one man’s greed and cold indifference to the lives of others.
	I hadn’t believed in men like Gezan before now.  I thought nearly everyone alive must have had some redeeming value.  But monsters really did exist, and we’d fallen prey to one.  And now all I wanted was for him to die.  The world would lose nothing.
	I recognized on some level that these dark thoughts of mine were unlike me.  The way I felt right now. . . this wasn’t who I wanted to be.  But it felt right.  It felt warranted.
	Was this how Finnegan had felt, all this time?  Was this how my parents had felt, when they’d fought the Otherwolves?  This was easier.  Simpler.  I was beginning to understand it.
	Akachi and I sat with the otter and canine pair.  The otter still hadn’t woken, but he was breathing.  None of us were medicine men, or ‘Physicians’, as the Otherwolves called them, so we weren’t sure what to do for him.  All Akachi knew was that men hit in the head in the fighting ring could sometimes fall asleep and never wake, and the longer you were asleep, the worse the outcome would likely be.
	They weren’t even giving us water, save what was leaking through the building on the floor.  There was nowhere to relieve ourselves, nothing to bind our wounds.  If the Priest intended to send his men in to cut off my ear, they hadn’t tried yet.  I’d seen some of the guards in the hallway assessing us, warily, like they were calculating their odds.  But none had tried to move any of us yet.
	There were eight of us in the left cell, and we’d all decided we’d stay together, towards the back corner.  If they came for us- when they came, we’d unanimously agreed we’d fight, however we could.  The few rich canines who’d been in the tavern had either never been locked up with us, or had since bailed out.  Whatever the arrangement had been, I’m sure it’d involved money.  
	They’d put all of the remaining dogs, of various walks of life, in the right cell.  Finn I suppose hadn’t counted because of his wolfish appearance, and Akachi was a foreign canine.  The older otter’s mate looked to have coyote blood in him.  So it was us tribal peoples and foreign species together, against whatever these men chose to throw at us when the time came to wrangle us up.  We all knew, chances were, we were bound for the gallows.  Or a firing line.  But we were determined to go down fighting.
	Akachi was preaching caution, for some reason.  “We need to focus more on delaying them as long as possible,” he insisted.  “Make ourselves difficult to take, difficult to separate.  Convince them it isn’t worth it.”
	“What good will that do?” the feline server from last night asked.  He’d also been dealing with some of the dizziness I’d been managing from a head wound, and he was clearly terrified besides, but I didn’t blame him for that.
	“How long have we been down here?”  Akachi asked, glancing at the window.  “Who’s been awake the whole while?”
	“I-I have,” the boar spoke up.  “I surrendered when they first came in, after I saw what they did to Bruce.  I think. . . ten. . . hours?  Maybe less?”
	“Half a day sounds about right,” the brown bear agreed.  “Judging by when it started getting light-“
	“Ey!”  Something loud clattered against the bars, and we all turned to the guard who’d approached our door.  He was banging his cudgel against the metal, irritably.  “What have I told you about gatherin’ up like that?!”
	“Tulimak?”  the brown bear, whose name I’d learned by this point was Archibald, looked to me.  We both rose, and rushed the door.
	The guard just about skipped backwards until he’d slammed back into the bars of the cell behind him.  Arch and I smashed into the metal door, and just like every time, it banged on its hinges but didn’t give way.  We both pressed our muzzles against the bars and roared, and the terrified guard pressed himself further back against the other bars, until-
	Bruce the bartender, who was in the other cell with the dogs, grabbed him by the collar and jerked him back, his head smacking hard into the metal bars.  He wasn’t able to grab for his keys or accomplish much more than that, but the guard stumbled off and away back down the hallway, cursing.
	“Try it again, see what happens!”  Arch roared down the hallway after him.  Then he patted my shoulder, chuckling.
	I had no room in my heart for mirth right now.  I just watched the guard retreat back down towards the others, around the corner to where there must have been another room where they all gathered.  There was a distant argument I couldn’t make much sense of following, but I could guess what they were discussing.
	“Guards, soldiers, navy men. . .” the feline said disgustedly, “they think we’re all weak like women.  They never take this many in a raid, they usually just take the workers.  I think they’ve bitten off more than they can chew, this time.”    	
	“I wish I was as strong as some of the women I’ve known,” I murmured.  “They’d know how to get us out of this place.”
	“Yes, watch your tongue,” the mink spoke up.
	Akachi turned his big ears towards the bars, then stood quickly and moved towards them.  I was already there, so when he came up alongside me, I looked to him expectantly.  I’d become attuned to a canine’s ears by this point, having spent so much time with Finn.  I’d learned to respect how acute they were.
	“About time,” he said at length, grabbing me by the arm.  “Get away from the bars.”
	“What’s going on?”  The older canine asked, clearly also hearing something I couldn’t yet.
	“We’re getting out of here,” Akachi said with certainty.  “Everyone stay back.  I don’t think they’ll use firearms, too loud, but just in case there’s a ricochet-“
	A literally blood-curdling scream echoed down the hallway, followed by many voices shouting, the distant slams of a door, or furniture?  A struggle.  Before we all fully knew what was happening, the Priest came running down the hallway, accompanied by two of the city guards who’d been with him.
	I heard Arch joining me at the bars.  Before we could reach through for any of the men or their keys, a blur of gold and black leapt into the room, knocking one of the guards fully off his feet and pinning him to the wet stone.  A flash of steel appeared in the- I realized now, familiar leopard’s hand, before he drove it down into the shocked man’s chest.  
	I’d seen men die to gunfire by this point, but I’d never seen someone stabbed repeatedly in the chest, blood choking out of their muzzle and bubbling up through the holes in their torso.  
	The remaining guard fumbled for a flintlock on his belt, and the Priest was shouting something unintelligible.  But just as the man began to raise the firearm, an axe I hadn’t seen thrown buried itself in his clavicle, and he gave little more than a whuff of surprise, stumbling back into the wall, like the pain hadn’t hit him yet.
	It took me a moment to realize the significance of the carved handle protruding from his chest, or the cross-hatched leather wrap.  My little sisters wove those leather wraps on all of our tools.
	That was my axe.  The one I’d left back at the warehouse because we hadn’t wanted to go heavily armed into the city last night.
	There was still fighting back further into the hallway and in the entranceway.  I could hear it.  But the Priest was alone now, huddled back into the corner behind his two dead or dying guards.  I stuck my muzzle out as far as I could through the bars, and that’s when I saw them.
	Odina was the first to sprint down the hallway towards us, joining Taarush as he pulled his long knife from the fallen man’s chest one last time.  Rather than going to retrieve the axe, she came straight for me, pushing her hands through the bars to cup my cheeks, frantic relief on her features.
	“Bearchild!  Thank the spirits. . .” she pressed our foreheads together through the bars for a moment, then looked past me.  “Where is Ambrose?”
	Grayson was right behind her, moving in behind her back, scimitar drawn and bloody.  He must have seen the expression on my face or else taken stock of everyone in both cells, because he cursed viciously.  “They took him already?  I’m sorry lad, it took us half the night and mosta’ the morning to find you.”
	“How did you find us at all?”  I asked, while Odina pulled away to search the guards for the keys to the cell.
	“They brought out a small army for that raid,” Taarush informed me.  “Thirty men or more and four or five wagons?  People notice.  Half of Debriss knew of it by morning.”
	“They really dug deep for an archaic, out-of-the-way jailhouse to stash you lot in, though,” Grayson said, whistling at his men further down the hallway.  “Took some digging to find the right one.  Akachi!”  He called through the bars.
	“Yes, sir,” the painted dog replied dutifully.
	“Apologies for the wait,” the wolf said as Odina finally fished up the keys and handed them to him.  “Yer bollocks still intact?”
	“They hadn’t quite gotten that far, sir.”
	“I owe you my life,” I told the both of them.  Then, to Odina, “Many times over, in your case.”
	“Oh, I’m just here for my Sailing Master, if anyone asks,” Grayson said, thrusting the key into the lock and turning it with an audible screech of old metal.  “D’you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to replace a good navigator?”
	The door opened.  The first thing Grayson did was pass Akachi’s blade to him, which he must have gotten from wherever they were keeping our things.  Maybe Finn’s pistol would be there, too. . . .
	Akachi gave a small smile, taking the blade first, then pulling his Admiral into a brief clap of an embrace.
	“Alright, alright,” the wolf growled, shoving him off with a toothy grin.  “Watch your own ass next time, you hear?  You’re supposed to be cleverer than me.  Tail ain’t worth getting hung for, no matter how saucy the lass,” he paused, glancing past him at the men in the room, “or. . . whichever.”
	I found myself shockingly disaffected, stepping past the blood-soaked bodies on the floor.  There’d be more on the way out too, I was certain.  This used to bother me more.
	The Priest was still alive, though.  He’d fallen to his rear on the soaked, dirty floor, hands up over his head, shaking.  I was angry at him of course, for playing a part in all of this, but my feelings for him paled in comparison to the real target of my outrage. 
	It seemed like Grayson and his men were just going to leave him here, while we filed all of the prisoners out down the bloody hallway to presumed freedom outside.  But then he spoke.
	“Please. . . end my life as well,” the man’s voice was shuddering, and small.  But it didn’t lack conviction.  
	I’d gone over to pull my axe from the other guard, whose wound was worse than I’d first thought.  Odina may not have hit him in the chest, but she’d caught him in the neck and he’d long since spilled most of his life onto the floor.  I heard his plea and found myself frozen beside him, weapon now in hand.
	“He’ll have me tied to the pier for failing in this,” the canine said, lower jaw trembling.  “I don’t want to die that way.”
	“Not if we kill him first,” I promised in a low rumble.
	“Then the Inquisitors will come. . . to find out what happened here. . . .” he said, looking around the decrepit place.  “They’ll do worse.”
	We were all silent for a time, before Grayson stepped past Odina and pulled a curved, sharp knife from his spats.  The dark-furred wolf approached the man grimly, before casting a look towards me.  
	He gave me time.  I gripped my axe, uncertainty still gnawing at me, despite the overwhelming anger I felt.
	I still couldn’t do this?  Even when I had every reason to?  Even when someone was asking me to?
	Eventually Grayson looked back at the Priest and reached down, grabbing him by the robe and lifting him to his feet.  Before he could pull the knife back, the man blurted out, “In the Ward Street Parish house, there’s a sealed room off of my office.”  He dipped his head slowly down.  “There is a young girl.  The windows are barred, the door is locked.  She’ll starve if you don’t let her out.”
	Grayson blew out a long breath.  “If I were you,” he growled, as he drew back the blade, “I’d pray.”
	“I do, every day,” the man insisted shakily.  “God can no more remove these urges from me than he can the accursed men in this prison.  We were born demons.”
	“Fuck you,” the Admiral snarled out, driving the blade into the man’s gut, instead of his chest.  He twisted it once, then pulled it out, leaving the shocked canine to slump against the wall.  Then he turned, disgustedly, and stormed back down the hallway.
 	I looked down on the dying man, horrified.  Not by the cruel manner in which he was dying, but. . . because of what he’d said.
	“Is that really what they think of us?”  I asked, aghast.  
	Odina put her hand on my arm, urging me away.  “Come on,” she insisted.  “We need to go.  Men like that do not matter.  Their words do not matter.”
	“They have Finn,” I said quietly.  “What are they going to do with him, when they’ve gotten all they need from him?”
	She looked at me, pain in her every feature.  “I’m. . . I’m sorry, Tulimak.  We will try to find him.” 
	I closed my eyes, releasing a long breath.  “I know where he is,” I said.