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

A Story of Faerie
© 2021 by M. Mitchell Marmel

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


Part Twenty-nine.



Jhonni:

Expense account addendum: one star two dusks, for a round at Geffert’s Pub.

Winterbough and that wolfess looked and acted like the real deal, and here they were telling me that the whispers I’d heard about a ‘Cabal’ were more substance than shadow. After I left, I kept to the shadows as I thought things through. By the time I reached the other side of town, I figured that one of these foxes must have been part of the crew that had killed poor Strangely, and had sent someone to put me down for a nap I might not have woke up from.

I’m usually a live and let live sort, but trying to kill me? They’ll find I object to that.

Strenuously.

So I headed back to Geffert’s. What that whippet doesn’t know in his part of town isn’t worth knowing.

I breeze on into the pub. “Hi Geffert.”

His head whips around like his wife just smacked him again and he’s staring at me. “Um, h-hi, Jhonni,” he managed to say after I take a seat at a corner table. “Y-your usual?” I give him a nod and he pulls a pint of Boncebasher Second Best. He tried calling it ‘Best’ but his customers reminded him that Elves Don’t Lie.

He brings the tankard over to me, and almost flinches when I put a couple dusks down for the drink. “Jumpy today, Geffert?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah! My nerves are getting to me, Jhonni. Might decide to retire and go someplace.”

Geffert’s usually a little nervous. Darkness, I think most of us who were born and lived through the Ospreys have some sort of nervous problem, but Geffert . . .

He acted like he hadn’t expected to see me again, ever.

I decide to see where this goes. “Pity about Strangely, isn’t it?”

The whippet’s tail starts twitching, trying to tuck between his legs. “Y-Yeah, it’s a pity, Jh-Jhonni. J-Jumped out a window, I hear.”

“Heard that from Quill?” He nods. “Quill accused me of murthering him. You pointed me out to him.” I took a long pull at my beer. “I pay you extra for privacy, Geffert. Why’d you do it?”

“W-Well, h-he’s City G-Guard – “

“So I’ll give you a pass on that.” I emptied my mug and waved him over for a refill. As he reached out to take it, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him to me, which ended up with him sprawled across the table. “But I won’t give you a pass over the attempt to kill me.”

“Wh-Whaat?”

“Someone tried to either kill me or lay me out of action,” I hissed. “You know more about what goes on around here than you let on, and if someone’s looking for some second-story work, they know you know who might be up for the job.” I jabbed a finger behind the angle of his jaw, which made him yelp. “So, talk to me, Geffert.”

He whined because I had his arm extended in an awkward way. There were a few other people in the bar, but Geffert gets all the best people. No one offered to help, and most just looked the other way.

“M- Jhonni, m-my arm – “

“Elves Don’t Lie, Geffert. You’ll still have it when I let go.” I leaned close to the whippet’s left ear. “I can’t say what condition it’ll be in, so talk.”

He gulped and whispered, “Guy comes in, looking for someone – to do a job, see?” I saw, so I nodded and he said, “So I let him meet this one guy.”

“Who’s ‘this one guy?’”

“Feline, good for what he does – b-but I didn’t think he’d kill Strangely,” he whimpered.

“So, you think he sent Strangely to the Light, huh?” He gives me a nod. “Did you think he would do the same to me?” A violent shake of his head. “Two more questions, Geffert: Who was the guy?”

“Huh?”

“Who was guy who came in looking for someone?” I applied a little pressure. Just being judicious, you know.

The whippet squirmed, and I could feel his mind touching mine. I opened up in time to hear him say, “He . . . he was a fox. Talked funny.”

“Oh? Funny as in ha-ha, or funny peculiar?”

“F-Funny p-p-peculiar, Jhonni! He wasn’t from around here.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“N-No, but he told me he was st-stayin’ in town.”

“Where?” Again, just a little judicious pressure. I’m not a hard-hearted giraffe.

“M-M-Mrs. M-M-M-Miggins’.”

I released his arm. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard now, was it, Geffert?” He just lay there across the table, whimpering and clutching at his arm.

I stood up, fished a star from my pocket and dropped it into my tankard. “See you around, Geffert. Been really nice talking with you.” The others in the room never saw me leave, and Elves Don’t Lie – they all looked in any direction but mine.

So, Mrs. Miggins’, eh? Back on my side of the city.

Might be a good idea to hunt up Winterbough and his sergeant. This whole thing was starting to smell, and not in a pleasant way, either.


***


Tessie:

As the Master’s maid, I usually have to wake up early in order to get things around the house started. Me, Nippy and [Little Toy] try to get as much done as possible before the Master and his wife come downstairs for breakfast.

So I guess that’s why I woke up before sunrise the next morning. Habit.

I wondered where Ooo-er was and what she might be doing, but then I heard a noise from the next room. I put my ear to the wall and heard the tell-tale squeak of bedsprings, and a breathy sound in her voice.

I settled back into bed with a smile. Ooo-er might not be a good Mephitist like me, but she was right to honor the Lady. And it was just fitting that she’d want to get a little of her own back after what the Wolf Queen did to her.

“She’s not the Wolf Queen.”

I sighed. “I know, but I don’t know what else to call her,” I said to the Regalia. “You know, I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?”

I waggled a paw. “All this hero thing. Sleeping rough, living from day to day – “

“Did the Wolf Queen not sleep at the Master’s house?”

“Good point, but she’d also go out wandering around, sometimes for a while. That’s how she found the Gypsy Wolves.” The Regalia was silent, and I added, “And I like mels, thank you.”

I ‘heard’ a chuckle. “Honey, I’ve been around a very, very long time, and not all of my Bearers have preferred femmes over mels. In fact, one of the women who wore me saved a Mephitist bishop from brigands, and they were married for a time.”

“Really?” I was pretty surprised and pleased that I didn’t have to stop liking boys. I’m sure the Master wouldn’t have liked it much, either.

Well, I hope so.

After Ooo-er came back and we’d cleaned up, we had breakfast (oatcakes with honey, smoked fish and tea – really good!) and she asked me what we should do today.

So I told her, quietly, about the shadow that I’d seen, and how the Regalia had reacted to it. When I finished I looked at her.

Ooo-er looked thoughtful. “I suppose we could ask the Master. He’ll obviously have a plan.”

I nodded.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Him? Have a plan? He usually makes it up as he goes along.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “As opposed to the way you operate, wolfess?”]

So we settled the bill and Ooo-er thanked Arnie, while I thanked Alice for the hospitality and great food. We then headed across the Onoob in search of the Master and You-Know-Who.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Hey!”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “I didn’t know your name at the time, so there.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Keep that tongue in your mouth, or so help me I’ll - ”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Wolfess? Tessie? Can we PLEASE get on with this?”]

“DelFurrio’s Tailor Shop,” Ooo-er read aloud, and she looked at me. “Are you sure they went in here?”

I nodded. “And as far as the Regalia knows, they’re still in there.”

So we went on in, and this anteater girl said, “Good morn – um, can we help you?”

I decided that a little taste of Raccoon Queen was called for. “I am the Raccoon Queen,” I said, “and this is Princess Ooo-er. We demand to speak with the Master of Elfhame.”

The reindeer femme blinked and goggled at me. She’d been eyeing Ooo-er and sketching something on a piece of paper. “Who?”

“The Master of Elfhame. Roebuck, this tall, one antler bent out of shape?”

“He’s here,” the anteater said.

“In the back,” the reindeer added.

“But you can’t go in there,” the anteater summed up.

Sun-and-Moon was suddenly in my paws.

“Oh, really?” I asked.


***


Tali:

I was, to put it mildly, completely gobsmacked.

That door was a Corps Type 70, ordinarily proof against any force up to a 120-millimeter high-explosive shell, and a slightly chubby raccoon femme with a medieval polearm had left it in pieces.

[Note appended to manuscript: "Slightly?!"]

[Note appended to manuscript: "Don't go there, wolfess."]

A rather surprised reindeer and anteater peered around the wrecked doorframe. Lisbet muttered to Dorotea, "Better call Support and order a Type 80." Specialist Duarte just nodded.

"Scuse me, I don't know my own strength," the raccoon femme said. “I had a good night’s sleep.” Her features hardened into a scowl and she leveled the larger Sun-blade at Winterbough. "You have seen the darkness that hides in this city, Master of Elfhame. Know that the Raccoon Queen will not allow this to stand."

The roebuck didn’t seem very perturbed by a blade that looked fully capable of bisecting him if the raccoon sneezed.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Did . . . did I act like that?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Yes. Yes, you did. And as for the number of times I've had Sun-blade waved under my nose for various infractions, real or imagined..."]

Missy locked eyes with the otter femme, only for the wolfess to start pouting as Ooo-er put her nose in the air and found a seat on the other side of the room from her mate.

Oy, the drama. Something we didn’t need right now, but so far they were keeping it low-key.

Winterbough nodded judiciously. He just sat there and looked up at the Raccoon Queen and said, "Good, you and Ooo-er are here. Put Sun-and-Moon away, Tessie, and have a seat."

Tessie blinked. "Oh. Um . . . what are you planning, Master?"

"That's what we were doing, before you chopped the door down, Tessie." The roebuck smiled and gestured at the food on the table. “Tea? Oatmeal with honey? The bacon’s already been sliced.”

A sniff, followed by a wide and appreciative smile. Pretty. “We had breakfast at the inn, Master, but I . . . “ Her voice trailed off as she winced and her right ear twitched. “On second thought,” she said, “I’ll just have a cup of tea.” Ooo-er was already helping herself to the bacon, and Missy was looking at her thoughtfully.

There was an awkward pause, you know the kind, before Matt asked gently, "And?"

The raccoon’s ears perked. “Hm?”

Matt pointed his ursine muzzle at the door that wasn’t there. “And?” he asked, this time in a more insinuating tone.

“Huh? Oh! Um, I apologize.”

“For?”

“For destroying your door?”

“No need to apologize,” and Fred breezed in. “Doors are just an invitation to open them, after all.” He poured a cup of tea and got a bowl of oatmeal. He sneaked a few pieces of bacon from Ooo-er and started eating.

I felt my head starting to hurt. Matt must have picked up on it. “Fred,” he said.

“Hm?”

I really have to give it to my mate; he seems to have an almost inexhaustible supply of patience. “Have fun?” That got an enthusiastic nod from the canine, and Matt asked, “Do you have anything to report?”

Fred nodded, swallowing a mouthful of oatmeal and washing it down with tea before replying, “The girls at the Hetaira’s Union have this little trick they do – “ He caught Matt’s eye and swiftly switched gears. “Yes, Colonel, I did. There’s an outside force here in town seeking to influence the election.”

I blinked. “And the women told you?”

“Sure!” Fred replied. “I didn’t get any names, but I was told that they were foxes.”

We all looked at each other.

“So,” Winterbough said as he nibbled at a slice of toast, “suspicions confirmed all around. Now, what do we do about it?”





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